IN CASTLE AND COURT HOUSE: BEING REMINISCENCES OF 3o YEARS IN IRELAND BY RAMSAY COLLE.S THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES A A V IN CASTLE , AND * " COURT HOUSE THE SERVIAN PEOPLE: Their Past Glory and Their Destiny By PRINCE LAZAROVICH-HREBELIANO- OVICH in collaboration with PRINCESS LAZAROVICH-HREBELIANOVICH (Eleanor Calhoun). Fully illustrated. 900 pages. 2 vols. 245. net. " OFF THE MAIN TRACK" By STANLEY PORTAL HYATT, Author of "The Diary of a Soldier of Fortune/' Demy 8vo. I2s.6d.net. Illustrated. THE MYSTIC BRIDE: A Study of the Life of Catherine of Siena By MRS AUBREY RICHARDSON, Author of "The Lover of Queen Elizabeth." Demy 8vo. Illustrated. I2S. 6d. net. HEROINES OF GENOA By EDGCUMBE STALEY Author of "Tragedies of the Medici." Demy 8vo. Illustrated. I2s. 6d. net. FRANCE UNDER THE REPUBLIC By PROFESSOR JEAN CHARLEMAGNE BRAca, Litt.D. 75. 6d. net. RAMSAY COLLES. (From the painting by Mr. J. Colin Forbes, R.C.A ) IN CASTLE AND COURT HOUSE BEING REMINISCENCES OF 30 YEARS IN IRELAND BY RAMSAY COLLES "The world's a stage," a stage without a light, Whereon the actors blindly grope their way; Happy are they whom Fortune guides aright: For them she doth not, sorry is the play! LONDON T. WERNER LAURIE CLIFFORD'S INN DA To J. E. EVANS-JACKSON ("ONE OF THE BEST. THERE ARK VBRY FEW OF US LEFT ") 979220 Contents Chap. Page I. Charles Stewart Parnell's Last Fight , . u II. The Irish Literary Movement . . .19 III. Lecky's Candidature for T.C.D. . . .28 IV. Social Life in Dublin . .... 39 V. Queen Victoria's Visit . . . .48 VI. Some Actors and Actresses . . . -57 VII. Law and Some Lawyers . . .66 VIII. Algernon Charles Swinburne . . -75 IX. A. C. Swinburne (Continued) . . .84. X. A. C. Swinburne (Concluded) . . .94 XI. Oscar Wilde and Others . . . .105 XII. Edward Dowden . . . . .118 XIII. Some Dublin Characters . . . .129 XIV. Public Entertainers ..... 138 XV. Some Medical Men and Others . . .147 XVI. Musicians I Have Met .... 154 XVII. Noctes Ambrosianse . . . . . 162 XVIII. Some Literary Correspondence . . . 170 XIX. Masonic Memories ..... 179 XX. An Irish Humorist . . . . . 188 XXI. Two Irish Historians ..... 202 XXII. " Far-Off Things " 210 | XXIII. Another Dublin Humorist J. M. Lowry . 217 XXIV. Some American Men of Letters . . . 225 7 Contents Chap. XXV. More American Men of Letters XXVI. Edgar Saltus: Publicist XXVII. A Chapter of Accidents XXVIII. The Family of Colles in Ireland XXIX. The Family of Colles in England XXX. The Family of Colles in the United States XXXI. Kings and Coronations . . XXXII. "The Provost and Fellows of Trinity" XXXIII. Omnium Gatherum Page 234 244 254 265 273 283 292 300 307 List of Illustrations Ramsay Colles (1909) Ramsay Colles (1896) .' Miss Maud Gonne Mrs Brown-Potter . . Lord Ashbourne Algernon Charles Swinburne The Baroness de Bazus Irene Osgood Professor Dowden . Walt Whitman George Pellew William Colles (1702-1770) William Colles (1648-1719) Richard Colles (1748-1816) . Monuments in Leigh Church Abraham Colles (1773-1843) Christopher Colles (1739-1816) Frontispiece facing page 32 50 60 72 98 108 116 124 224 224 . t 266 266 274 274 288 288 In Castle and Court House CHAPTER I CHARLES STEWART PARNELL's LAST FIGHT Parnell's Last Fight Election in Carlow The Priest: In Politics Hammond v. Kettle I am Presiding Officer Sworn in at Carlow Drive to Clonegall Midnight Visitors A Personating Agent Scenes in Polling Booth Illiterates Innumerable I Frustrate the Game Expostulation A Drive to Carlow Our Armed Guard Result of Election Parnell's Atti- tude His Return to Dublin My Sonnet to Him His Death Father Skerrett. AN unknown Greek philosopher remarked " Know Thyself " ; the modern philosopher says : " Let the Public Know ! " Acting on this excellent advice, I proceed, as is now fashionable, to jot down what I remember, before I am fifty, and have possibly forgotten these " Footnotes to History." My entry into public life commenced with my being appointed Presiding officer at Clonegall, Co. Carlow, when the struggle commenced between Parnell's nominee, the late Mr Andrew Kettle, and ii In Castle and Court House the late Mr Thomas Hammond, who had the support of the Priests. It will be remembered that in 1891, Parnell's private life had been very dramatically exposed to the public gaze, and the Irish Priesthood saw their chance to free themselves from his autocratic rule, and threw themselves into the arena with a zest which eventually secured for the Church the victory ; their war-cry being, " Purity in private as in public life." In working to this end the priests fought to the death. They knew no such terms as compromise. I myself heard a young priest in the main street of Carlow, say to a voter, " You must either vote for this (holding out a crucifix) and Hammond, or vote for the Devil and Parnell." Such tactics employed by their spiritual guides had, of course, an immense weight with an ignorant and superstitious peasantry. I was sworn in at 3 o'clock on Monday, 6th July, 1891, by Mr John Alexander, the Sheriff, and drove to Clonegall, and was put up at a small house for the night. As my clerk, who accompanied me, was a thirsty soul, and as I was myself very dubious as to the resources of Clonegall, I purchased a couple of bottles of whisky, and lucky it was that I did so, for when, in order to be fresh for the duties of the morrow, I retired early to bed, I was so mercilessly persecuted by midnight visitors in the shape of agile agitators " from whom is derived the verb to flee," that in despair I arose, poured all the whisky into the 12 Charles Stewart ParnelPs Last Fight wash basin, and proceeded to soak my pyjamas in the pure spirit! I then wrung the garments out thoroughly, into the basin, and putting them on, sprang into bed, with the happy result of a total rout of the foe and the sleep of the just for myself! When my clerk, who had slept at the house of the local clergyman, a teetotaller, turned up in the morning at 7 o'clock, I was still asleep. As the polling booth had to open at 8, he awoke me, and I explained the reason of the heavy aroma of alcohol in the room. Looking into the basin, he said, " Begorra! some poor fellah might like to have that, I'll just cork what remains of the blessed liquor up again." I expostulated in vain. He reminded me that when a big whisky fire at Roe's Distillery took place in Dublin, the crowd in the street drank the ignited fluid as it poured down the channels, taking their shoes off to serve them as drinking vessels. " I'll just put the bottle in my outside pocket," he said, " and some poor fellah '11 be glad enough to steal it out of it! " This was exactly what happened tliat very night in the crowded streets of Carlow. Polling commenced sharp at 8 o'clock, many men hanging around for the polling booth to open. I shall not give the names of the personating agents, but one of them was a priest. As a resident in Dublin, and knowing little or nothing of Carlow, I was astonished at the number of illiterates. In order to make my statement clear to the general reader, I must explain the method of procedure. 13 In Castle and Court House If Pat Murphy, on being handed his voting paper, says he cannot read or write, the Presiding Officer fills a form of solemn declaration to that effect, and having read it aloud to him, witnesses Murphy's mark on the form. Murphy then declares aloud that he votes either for Hammond or Kettle, as the case may be ; but the ballot being no longer secret, the personating agents know how he votes, and the priest being a personating agent, becomes aware that Pat has done as he was told to do. As nearly every voter in the district appeared to be illiterate, I became suspicious, and after a little reflection, I handed the next illiterate his voting paper upside down. He confirmed my suspicions by turning it round, the while declaring himself unable to read ! This was too much for me. I said to him " Are you prepared to make a solemn declara- tion that you can neither read nor write ? " " I am, sir," he replied. A happy thought struck me, " Are you prepared to take your oath that you can neither read nor write ?" He hesitated. I continued, " See here," I said, producing the familiar, so-called " Swearing Book " (a New Testament with a cross painted on it in white enamel). " Are you prepared to kiss that Book ? " handing it to him, and pointing to the cross ; " are you prepared to kiss that and swear that you cannot read? Remember there is such a thing as perjury, and that you can be severely punished for swearing what is false !" Charles Stewart ParnelPs Last Fight The priest here sought to interfere. He saw that things were looking very blue. He could absolve Pat for making a solemn declaration which, though it was false, his spiritual adviser approved of his making; he could not shield poor Pat from the punishment the law awards to perjurers. I silenced his Reverence by holding up my hand, while I continued, addressing the voter: " Why did you turn that paper round ? " " Och, shure ! I was only twisting it," said Pat. ; ' Well," I said, " either swear that you can't read, or ' twist ' into that corner (pointing to it) where you will find a pencil, and put your mark against the name of the candidate for whom you intend to vote. Then fold the paper in two, and put it into this box," pointing to the ballot-box, which stood on the table ; " and remember the ballot is secret." From this time on, my course was clear. In only one case, from that hour, about 2 o'clock, until the polling booth closed at 8 p.m., did anyone take the oath. One and all of the so-called illiterates were eager to make the solemn declaration, but shirked the consequences of the oath. The priest expostulated, but I was firm. " Reverend Sir," I said, " You must really keep quiet. I will take the consequences of my conduct, and if you interfere with me any more, I shall, with great reluctance, have you removed." This had the desired effect, and I parted the best of friends with all present. Later I wrote to Mr In Castle and Court House A. J. Balfour, who was then Chief Secretary for Ireland, on this subject. At twenty minutes past eight that evening all Clonegall had assembled to see us depart. First an Irish jaunting car with four armed policemen. Then the ballot-box placed in a conspicuous position on the well of the car, with my clerk on one side with a policeman, and a policeman with me on the other side. Then a third car, like the car in front, with four policemen, and in this order we drove along the country roads, on a lovely July night, with the golden sickle of a new moon on high ; drove between hedgerows which were prodigal homes of unmarketable beauty, and which glistened with the shaken silver of a recent summer shower. Carlow was reached at five minutes to eleven, and the ballot-box handed over to be dealt with by those to whom the counting of the votes had been entrusted. Our task was ended. The result of the poll was declared at 1.20 next day, in favour of Hammond. Parnell was very cool. He spoke, as usual, with much deliberation, and even with the defeat at Kilkenny fresh in his memory, declared that this was not the end. Parnell was always a speaker who impressed me as one who thought first and spoke afterwards. He did not merely talk for the sake of talking. His voice had a fine, sonorous ring in it, and carried conviction with it. We returned by the same train to Dublin. Parnell hardly spoke a word all the way. As a proof of the kindliness of the man, I may mention the fact 16 Charles Stewart ParnelPs Last Fight that the first thing he did on reaching Dublin, was to drive to a private hospital in Harcourt Street to inquire about one of his followers who had been injured at the previous Election in Kilkenny. Although nominally a Conservative, I had great sympathy with Charles Stewart Parnell, especially in his struggle against the interference of the priests in politics, and I addressed the following sonnet to him, submitting it first to that severe critic, Dr George Sigerson, who approved of it, and gratified me by saying that he considered it very good. | To CHARLES STEWART PARNELL, M.P. * He is not vanquish'd who renews the fight* And open-breasted bids the foe again Defiance, while alert he waits the rain Of blows that fall, and, meeting might with might, Is conscious of his strength, as of his right. He is not vanquish'd who erect doth stand, And holdeth fortune in his own right hand, With face uplifted and with eyes alight. Nay, rather, though his foes plant many a blow, And mock his silence with untimely mirth; Tho' marr'd his visage be beyond recall Yea, though his blood should as a river flow Hail him we victor, who from every fall Riseth, Antaeus-like, from Mother Earth I The polling day in Clonegall was the 7th July, 1891, and on the 7th October, exactly three months later, Charles Stewart Parnell was dead! Dead? Has anyone who has seen Charles Stewart Parneii alive seen him after death? The Rev. Father Skerret, a dignitary of the Roman Catholic Church, 17 B In Castle and Court House assured me that he did his best, as a Priest, to see the corpse, but was refused. Father Skerret impressed me as being a lover of truth. He died very suddenly himself. On the last occasion on which I saw him, an occasion made memorable to me by a disgraceful assault upon myself, the story of which I tell later, he said, " I declare solemnly that though I have searched high and low, I have never met anyone, man or woman, even his nearest and dearest, who saw the dead Parnell." There we may leave the matter. We may not agree with his methods. As William Ernest Henley pointed out, in that brilliant but short-lived paper The Scot's Observer, Parnell had all the qualifications to militate against his being a Leader of the Irish Parliamentary Party. He was a Landowner, a Protestant, and a Gentleman, and surely when we look at " The apes whose ancestors were men," we must solemnly admit this statement. He was a man, take him for all in all; We ne'er shall look upon his like again. 18 CHAPTER II THE IRISH LITERARY MOVEMENT Irish Literary Movement Sir Walter Besant and " The Author " The Poets and Poetry of Young Ireland A Literary Pilgrimage Miss Katharine Tynan W. B. Yeats Rev. Father Russell, S.J. Rosa Mulholland (Lady Gilbert) John O'Leary the Fenian Leader Some Visitors to Whitehall George Pellew Some American Writers Richard Ashe King Anecdote of James Payn Dr Douglas Hyde " A. E." Russell- Charlotte Grace O'Brien Dr Sigerson. I SANDWICH between the description of Parnell's last fight, and my account of Lecky's candidature for the representation of T. C. D. in Parliament, an account of some of the representatives of literature in Ireland at a time when many who are now well known were starting their careers. When " The Author " was founded by Sir Walter Besant in July, 1890, he wrote to me, asking me to contribute an article on "Literature in Ireland." I did so to the best of my ability, but like many another well meant effort, my attempt to catalogue the names of my contemporaries was not altogether well received. This was not my fault, for the article was mutilated in an extraordinary manner, not, I am certain by Sir Walter; and, as an instance of the 19 In Castle and Court House stupidity with which the excisions were made, I may point to the fact that my references to a young and rising poet who had fully justified the praise with which his work was greeted (Mr W. B. Yeats), were cut completely out. Professor Dowden had laughingly remarked, on his deciding to decline the offer of the Chair of Literature in an American University : " I suppose I make take out a perpetuity in Mount Jerome now." Mount Jerome is the Protestant burial ground, and I had used Dowden's remark without acknowledg- ing its source, and was naturally accused of bad taste in consequence. These were some of the troubles that afflicted the just, but I was not much worried by the strictures passed upon me, for I was conscious of the fact that I never spoke a word or wrote a line with the object of paining anyone. Swinburne paid me the compliment of writing to me, " I am sure you cannot have written anything to offend a sensible reader." I mention this lest there should be any- thing in this book that may be mis-interpreted. The Irish Literary Movement, as it has since been called, was started about 1886. Poets who have since won world-wide reputations, were then either writing verses for circulation amongst their friends, or sending the poems to " The Irish Fireside/' edited, I believe, by Miss Rose Kavanagh, a charming young woman, herself a writer of graceful verse, who, alas! was laid in a few years in an early grave, the victim of consumption. An attempt had been made, in 1886, to resusci- 20 The Irish Literary Movement tate " The Dublin University Magazine," which was in 1840 a publication of which Ireland might be proud; and to this later issue, contributions were sent by all who aspired to be literary. Mr Yeats sent some of his earlier work to this magazine, and in it appeared his finest dramatic poem, " Mosada." Those were the days when pilgrimages were made, every Sunday, to Whitehall, Clondalkin, where Miss Katharine Tynan (now Mrs H. A. Hinkson) lived in a delightful old farmhouse. Miss Tynan, who has since contributed very largely both in prose and verse, to the delight of her readers, had at that time only a slender little volume bearing her name: " Louise de la Valliere." It was, however, a little book full of promise, and was followed by another in which a great advance in her art was discernible, " Shamrocks," for which I suggested the motto chosen from a poem by Richard Hengist Home, " ' Tis always morning somewhere in the world." At the time of which I write, there was no steam- tram to help pilgrims on their way to this literary Mecca. Four miles, at least, of country road had to be walked or cycled, but to young hearts full of enthusiasm, young heads full of glorious projects, and to the springy step of youth, what are four miles? I used to think it was most appropriate that the glass panels of the hall door at Whitehall were couleur de rose, for the young writer's view of her friends was always " kindly Irish of the Irish," making the most of their virtues, and quite blind to their faults, whatever they might be. 21 In Castle and Court House In the delightful low, thatched farmhouse under the Dublin Mountains, with its tangled orchard at the back, its garden with a sundial, its labyrinth of little flower-beds with box borders, and its great walnut tree, all sorts and conditions of men and women might be met. Here a Protestant Home Ruler hob-a-nobbed fraternally with an enthusiastic Conservative, or a Fenian leader. All politics were forgotten as well as were all creeds. Here I met, amongst others, Father Russell of the Society of Jesus, Editor of " The Irish Monthly," an old estab- lished and ably conducted magazine, in which the literary tone predominated. To this magazine Oscar Wilde contributed some of his earlier verses ; for it M. E. Francis (Mrs Blundell) wrote her first novel " Whither? " and some of her best work. Father Russell, a brother of Lord Russell of Kill- owen, has a fine catholic taste in literature, and " The Irish Monthly " represented some of the best pro- ductions of the literary party in Ireland. Miss Tynan, of course, was a contributor, as were also Miss Rosa Mulholland, now Lady Gilbert, Miss Ellen O'Leary, sister of John O'Leary (the old Fenian chief) and Miss Dora Sigerson (now Mrs Clement Shorter) and her sister Hester (now Mrs Piatt). Not the least noticeable person in Whitehall was Miss Tynan's father, a fine old man, not unlike Walter Savage Landor in that old lion's most com- bative moods. Mr Tynan expressed himself in vigorous terms, and always won an audience who listened to him with more than ordinary pleasure. 22 The Irish Literary Movement " Amongst the guests star-scattered o'er the grass " on the afternoon of a summer's day, I found Miss Frances Wynne, the author of a very beautiful little book of verse, entitled " Whisper." Yeats also was there and recited to me on the road home his musical verses on the old fisherman, with its refrain " When I was a boy with never a crack in my heart." Frederick Gregg, now an author and journalist in New York, was a constant visitor, as were also W. S. Pyper and Pococke, who wrote a clever parody on Browning, and was joint author with my old school- fellow, Henry Stewart Macran, of a paper entitled Signs of the Times, which, though it did not contain a word of sense, was read before the Philo- sophical Society in T.C.D., and gained the Gold Medal for composition ; a medal which the authors refused, under the circumstances, to accept. Macran is now a Fellow of T.C.D., and the author of an important work on Greek music. Few men combine, as does Macran, a knowledge of Greek and Music. It is to Miss Tynan that I owe my knowledge of George Pellew, of Katonah, New York. He was then collecting the materials of his book " In Castle and Cabin, or Talks in Ireland in 1887," which on its appearance Lord Morley of Blackburn declared in " The Nineteenth Century," to be one of the most important contributions towards the solution af the Irish problem. A mad dog was in the neighbourhood of Clon- dalkin at the time and many people carried revolvers. 23 In Castle and Court House Pellew had to pass through a lonely stretch of road to reach " Belgard " where Sir Henry Hayes Laurence, Bart., a descendant of the great Indian hero, lived, and on whom he proposed to call, but he refused the loan of any weapon whatsoever. Pellew and I were driven into Dublin that evening and spent the greater part of the night at the Imperial Hotel, discussing literature. I remember he was enthusiastic about Wilfrid Scawen Blunt's " Love Sonnets of Proteus," and he was the only man I ever met, save Mr Watts- Dunton who appre- ciated the poems of Ebenezer Jones, the author of " Studies in Sensation and Event." I can hear him, after this lapse of time, reciting " When the World is Burning," a truly extraordinary poem which, like Wordsworth's Lucy There were none to praise And very few to love. Pellew it was who sent me novels by Edgar Saltus, whose work I collected with enthusiasm, and on whom, years after, I wrote an article in The Westminster Review, gaining a letter thereby from Saltus, signed " Yours attentively." Pellew also called my attention to the verse of Edgar Fawcett, especially to a poem entitled " Dei Gratia." He gave me an introduction to Thomas Sergeant Perry, of Boston, author of " From Opitz to Lessing " ; "A Study in Neo-Classicism " ; " The Evolution of the Snob " ; and a Study of " Greek Literature," an exhaustive treatise on the subject. Mrs Perry is an artist and the author of some beautiful translations 24 The Irish Literary Movement from the Greek Anthology entitled " From the Garden of Hellas." She published anonymously a charming little volume of poems, " The Heart of the Weed," a title explained by a quotation from James Russell Lowell, " to win the secret of the weed's plain heart." This little book contains a sonnet on Swin- burne's poems to children, a copy of which I sent to the author of " A Dark Month." Another friend I owe to Pellew was Richard Hovey, the American poet, author of some beautiful verse. But I must reserve my recollections of American poets for the section to be devoted to Walt Whitman and other representatives of litera- ture in America. I have always admired Miss Katharine Tynan's poems. One of her poems contributed to " The Dublin University Magazine," she has, I believe, never reprinted, but the following, which I quote from memory is, I think, exquisite in many of its expressions ; for instance, " Her eyes are starring the happy shadows." O my swallows ! hasten up from the South, For young May walks knee-deep in the Irish meadows, And living gold is her hair, and the breath of her mouth Is delight, and her eyes are starring the happy shadows. The honey-heart of the cowslip lies at her feet, The faint fresh buds of the hawthorn trail o'er her bosom, And the garment that covers her, fragrant and sweet, Is the mingled rose and snow of the apple blossom. In another poem which won my admiration she writes of the dawn All the East, a rose uncurled, Grows golden at the heart. 25 In Castle and Court House There is nothing from " the gossamer spun on the dewy lea " to the " dawn's rose leaves shed on a yellow sea " that she has not rendered dearer to us by virtue of poetic association. Mr H. A. Hinkson, a distinguished graduate of T.C.D., I also met at Whitehall. He is the author of one or two law books and of many capital novels, and is a Prince of Good Fellows. He married Miss Tynan in 1892. Another writer I met at Whitehall was Mr Richard Ashe King, author of " The Wearing of the Green." I am indebted to him for the following story told him by James Payn, the novelist. It appears that Payn received a letter from an unknown person praising his works. " I liked to hear my books called ' works '," said Payn, " and I replied. He wrote me again, and I wrote in return a jocose letter. He replied in like terms. I again wrote telling him a funny story. He sent me a funny story. I capped it, and in a short time I got a Roland for my Oliver. I got a rather blue story in his next, and I wrote him one to match it, finally I got an indignant letter, com- mencing ' Sir, are you aware that I am a woman ! ' I often," said Payn, " blush under the bedclothes when I think of the stories I told that woman ! " Others who used to visit Whitehall were : Dr Douglas Hyde, very learned in the Irish tongue, of which he compiled a dictionary ; George Russell, the poet, better known as " A. E.," the author of much mystical verse ; Dr Sigerson, who wrote on many subjects, including poets and poetry; Edwin 26 The Irish Literary Movement Hamilton, the Aristophanes of Ireland ; Mr James Bowker, an official in the G.P.O., a lover of old books and a contributor to " The Irish Monthly " ; and Charles Johnson and his sister, the son and daughter of that fine old fire-eater, Johnson of Bally- kilbeg. I have also a dim recollection of a very charming personality, that of the late Charlotte Grace O'Brien, daughter of Smith O'Brien, the Irish rebel, whose statue, arrayed in a perfect frock coat, ornaments an approach to O'Connell Bridge. CHAPTER III LECKY'S CANDIDATURE FOR T.C.D. W. E. H. Lecky the great Historian Michael Hickie, a well-known Dublin Bookseller An Amusing Inci- dent Vacancy in Parliamentary Representation of T.C.D. Electioneering Arguments Professor Mahaffy's Comment My Lucky Discovery Lecky's Early Book " The Religious Tendencies of the Age " Irish Times v. Dublin Daily Express Lecky and the Church Extracts from a very scarce Book Lecky on Christianity The Church Militant My Interview with Lecky Why I hold Unpublished Letters His Triumphant Return for T.C.D. His Personal Kindness to Myself. THE first time I saw W. E. H. Lecky, the historian, was in 1891, in a second-hand book shop kept by one Michael Hickie. I remember Lecky, " angular and profound," with his hands clasped behind him, gazing at the titles of books far beyond the range of my vision. He seemed to my fancy let me say it with all reverence for a great man and a great writer like an inspired giraffe browsing upon the foliage on the topmost boughs of the tree of know- ledge ! Hickie stood in the centre of his shop piled up with stacks of books on every subject. A man Lecky's Candidature for T.C.D. came in with a volume he had picked up off the improvised shelf outside the shop, and asked : "What do you want for that?" It was a shabby looking copy of the Bible. Hickie pulled his beard meditatively, and said " one shilling." " It's not worth a shilling," said the man, emphati- cally, " I'll give you sixpence for it." Upon this Hickie awoke, and shouted " Get out of my shop! Any man who says that the word of God is not worth a shilling won't stop here ! " Hickie was not religious, he told me afterwards that he had mistaken Lecky for a clergyman! When, in the latter part of 1895, a vacancy was created in the Parliamentary representation of Dublin University by the Right Hon. David Plunket being raised to the Upper House as Lord Rathmore, the candidates were George Wright, Q.C., and Lecky. The fight raged hot, for both were well known men, the one on account of his personality, and his skill and eminence as a lawyer, the other on account of his world-wide celebrity as an historian. All's fair in love and war, and it is not surprising that Lecky's opponents used as a weapon against him his heterodox opinions as expressed in his works, especially in " The Rise of Rationalism in Europe," and " History of European Morals." A very large number of the electors were clergy- men, and it was held that if by any possibility they were ignorant of Lecky's works, they should be made 29 In Castle and Court House aware of his having called an unfortunate class of women, " The High Priestesses of Purity " ; and consequently everything was done that could be done, to intensify his supposed hostile attitude towards Christianity in general, and the Church in particular. He was branded not alone as an agnostic, but as an out and out atheist, and the simple, kindly-hearted gentleman was painted as a very devil incarnate. Elections in Ireland are perhaps no worse than in England, but the absurdity of the arguments on both sides may be gauged from the fact that one of Mr Lecky's supporters wrote to the daily papers pointing out that Lecky paid pew rent! This was followed by a letter from an opponent who demon- strated clearly that the historian, notwithstanding his payment of pew rent, never went to church. Another correspondent rushed into print stating that he knew for a fact that Mr George Wright was a devout attendant every Sunday at such and such a church! Finally Professor Mahaffy wittily remarked that the electors were called upon to face the problem as to whether they would prefer to support a candidate who paid pew rent but did not go to church, or a candidate who went regularly to church, but did not pay pew rent. However laughable, at this time and distance, such arguments may appear to be, there is no doubt what- ever that heavy artillery was being used against Lecky, the weapons being somewhat antiquated and, as students of American history may remember, the 30 Lecky's Candidature for T.C.D. ammunition consisted of theology as it did actually consist on one occasion in the American War of Watt's hymn books. After all, orthodoxy carries weight, and the church which, as I shall prove, leant towards Lecky's side, began to have doubts about the wisdom of its choice. At this critical time I was, one Saturday, wander- ing along the quays in Dublin (almost as famous as those in Paris, and for the same reason) in search of old books. Seeing me passing, and knowing my keen interest in such things, a second-hand book- seller, Mr George Webb, of 5, Crampton Quay, asked me in to see a book by Lecky. I entered the shop in a most sceptical mood, for I had studied Lecky's books, including his " Leaders of Public Opinion in Ireland " ; judge then my astonishment when Mr Webb produced a little volume bound in blue cloth, entitled " The Religious Tendencies of the Age," published by Messrs Otley and Saunders in 1860. The book did not bear the author's name on the title page, and there was no reference to previous work by the same hand in its 320 pages, but an advertisement at the end of the volume stated that by the same author was written " Leaders of Public Opinion in Ireland." In addition to the book, which I eagerly acquired, was an autograph letter from the author, written from 14, Onslow Gardens, his residence in London, and addressed to a correspondent in Dublin, in which Mr Lecky evidently replied to a question with regard to his authorship, by admitting the fact. In Castle and Court House Never did I pay fifteen shillings more willingly than to Mr Webb, the bookseller, on that occasion! I now possessed materials from which to manufacture a bomb to throw into the camp of the enemy ! The Irish Times, the most powerful organ in Ireland, and a supporter of Lecky, was then edited by the late Mr Scott. " Promising Scott " he was called, because he had a habit of promising any- thing; and such I found him to be when later I called upon him. The Dublin Daily Express was owned by my friend, James Poole Maunsell, who died all too soon. I had been connected, off and on, with the Express as a reviewer, occasional leader writer, etc., and accordingly to the Express I went, and saw the late Dr Patton, who at once saw the force of my argument, and, he having promised me the space I required, I repaired to the offices of The Irish Times and saw Mr Scott, who promised me the same amount of space a full column. The result of my perusal of " The Religious Ten- dencies of the Age " appeared on the following Monday morning, when my full column appeared in The Dublin Daily Express, and not one word was to be found in THe Irish Times! The immediate effect of my signed letter on the subject of the con- tents of the book, was the trebling of the circulation of the Express, which was quoted by all the papers in the kingdom, and was made much use of by Lecky 's committee. Readers of Mrs Lecky's beautiful life of her husband, may wonder that there is no reference to 32 Photo, Lafayette. RAMSAY COLLES (1896). Lecky's Candidature for T.C.D. these matters to be found in her pages. The fact is that when Mrs Lecky was advertising for letters written by the great historian, I was in Germany, and my attention not being drawn to the advertise- ment, I did not forward the letters written to me by Mr Lecky, to his biographer for inspection. Readers of that life will remember that Lecky intended to enter the Church, and only abandoned the idea after devoting some years to the study of theology. The tone, therefore, of " The Religious Tendencies of the Age," his first book, is not to be wondered at. As the book had so great an effect in connection with Dublin University Election, and as it has been quite out of print for years, and is indeed very scarce, the following quotation may not be out of place, and may give the reader an idea of the contents, as well as a picture of what Lecky considered the profession which he intended to follow to be " The position," he wrote, " of the Protestant clergyman is, in theory at least, one of the most beautiful that can be conceived. It forms, as Goethe remarked, the one idyll of modern civilisation. Our reformers, by abolishing compulsory celibacy would remove religion from an unamiable and compara- tively unproductive isolation and transfuse it through society as an ameliorating and harmonizing influence. They would blend it with every scene of domestic joy, with the ineffable love, and the open sympathy, and the unclouded confidence of the 33 c In Castle and Court House family circle, with the ringing laugh of children and the soaring hopes of youth. They would exhibit in a single man the model Christian and the model citizen ; the lights of heaven and of earth mingling and intensifying each other. He who aspires to so high a position should seek, in every way to make religion in his person attractive, and to gain the respect and the affection of those around him. Youth should find him a participator in its pleasures, and a cordial sympathiser with its hopes ; manhood, a sagacious counsellor in secular matters as well as in religion ; age, a patient listener and an unwearied minister to its wants. He should endeavour, by varied studies, by the cultivation of every grace, by the ascendancy in society as would secure a respectful attention to his statements. If he has wit, it should coruscate with a bright, though innocuous flame. If he possesses conversational powers he should employ them in allaying discord and promoting charity and adorning truth. In the pulpit he should make his many studies converge to a single object, deriving illustrations from the most varied sources, culling pregnant thoughts from the most dissimilar writers, borrowing examples from every page of history and biography. Untenable arguments and exaggerated assertions should find no place in his discourses. Virulent controversy should never be introduced into his pulpit. He should combat error by the enforcement of truth, and dwell rather on doctrines that are generally admitted than on those that are questioned. Above 34 Lecky's Candidature for T.C.D. all, he should represent Christianity as an ennobling and harmonizing principle, promoting human happi- ness and developing human capacities, a principle designed to reform society, not to subvert it, and to purify the enjoyments of life, not to destroy them." Such, I wrote in my letter to the Ex-press, is the picture drawn by Mr Lecky of the modern " man of God," and who shall say that his brush is tinged with either agnosticism or atheism ? " There lives no record of reply," to quote Tenny- son's " In Memoriam," and I drove my argument home with but one more extract with which I shall trouble my readers, an extract trebly valuable at the time, as can be readily understood, for I alone possessed the book, and I alone could quote from it! In reference to a future life, the so-called atheist had written " But as finite things can never satisfy the longing of man after the infinite, as a canker lurks in every pleasure, and time withers life's noblest works, as imagination creates aspirations for higher existences and more perfect forms of enjoyment than earth can afford, there is an object of ambition offered to us grander than any of those things that are seen, a state of life is revealed where the capacities of man may be developed to the fullest extent, where his affections may find worthy objects, his intellect an ample range, his hopes a full completion. This life is supplemented by death ; earth is made the portal to heaven, and ambition finds in the future world its noblest and its final object." 35 In Castle and Court House The effect of my letter, which contained other extracts, and closed with the words, " I have dwelt thus long on this book, because it exhibits an attitude towards Christianity on the part of the great historian with which his opponents do not credit him," was undoubtedly very great, and I was much gratified by a letter of thanks from Mr Lecky, in which he pathetically refers to the fact that the book was pub- lished so long ago as 1 860. " Who would have thought," he wrote, " that a book dead and buried so long should arise from the tomb to confront me now," and concluded by inviting me to call to see him at a private hotel in Molesworth Street. I had received another letter on the same subject. This was from a high dignitary of the Church, and an old friend of mine, also asking me to call. I did so, and was much amused to find the Church was largely represented on the occasion. I laughingly inquired of my friend why he had summoned a spirit like myself to face such an assembly, and the reply was that the Church, as represented by those present, had read the letter in the Express with much satis- faction, but were anxious, if possible, that I should prove from " The Religious Tendencies of the Age " that Lecky believed in the Divinity of Christ. Remembering the sentence given above, " Unten- able arguments and exaggerated assertions should find no place in the discourses of the clergy," I felt at once the difficulty of such a task, but promised to do my best, with which unsatisfactory assurance I left my audience, happy in the main, and, on dipping 36 Lecky's Candidature for T.C.D. further into the book, managed to write a second letter, which occupied two columns in The Daily Express, besides appearing in The Belfast News- letter and Th,e Cork Constitution. In the meantime The Irish Times remained silent on the subject, and aroused the ire of its opponent, which had the following: "THE UNIVERSITY ELECTION It is only right to state that the complete refu- tation of Mr Lecky's critics, supplied in Mr Ramsay Colles's extracts from Mr Lecky's ' Religious Tendencies of the Age,' was deliberately withheld from the readers of a newspaper purporting to support Mr Wright. This is a fair sample of the way in which Mr Lecky's opponents are economising truth to serve their own ends." I called to see Mr Lecky on the afternoon of Friday, 29th November, and found him as serene as if no storm were sweeping around him. He asked me where I had found the book, and thanked me most graciously for the good use I had made of it. I felt sorry to be worrying him on the afternoon of a busy day, and said so, but he replied that his speech made during the day had not wearied him in the least, though he had been frequently inter- rupted. He said, " I take a pleasure in the exuber- ance of youth." I thought of his reference to the " ringing laughter of children " in the little book. He referred to his forthcoming " Liberty and Democracy," which reminded me of a promise made 37 In Castle and Court House to a friend, and I asked him to sign for me one or two copies of his little volume of poems; which he asked me to leave with him for the purpose. These he kindly signed and sent me. He sat in a low armchair, his massive head sway- ing occasionally from side to side, and his hands clasped in front of him. I did not stay long, for he had a public dinner to attend in an hour or so, a function at which I also had to be present. I said in leaving, " I feel certain of your success, Mr Lecky ! " but he merely replied " Thank you," and added " and thank you for all you have done in the matter." Lecky's return as representative of T.C.D. was received with great enthusiasm, and how ably and energetically he acted in that capacity is a matter of history. He never forgot the humble but effective part I played at that period of his career, and when, many years later, I was a candidate for a commissionership in West Africa, he was one of my most ardent supporters ; and it was through his influ- ence that I was appointed in 1896 a Justice of the Peace for the Borough of Dublin. I may add that, notwithstanding the machinations of many enemies, political and social, I still retain my Commission of the Peace. CHAPTER IV SOCIAL LIFE IN DUBLIN The Two Sections of Society in Dublin Castle v. Mansion House Sir George Moyers Same Division in Literary as in Social Life People v. Professors Thomas Moore Centenary Amusing Incidents Ter- centenary of T.C.D. Aloofness of " the Silent Sister " Some Young Poets A Don's Luncheon Party The Poet and the Bee Lionel Johnson W. A. Craig What happened at " The Professor's Love Story " The Corinthian Club Some Members Martin Harvey and Edward Terry Miss Irene Van- brugh Chancellor Tisdall Shakespeare and Bacon George Alexander W. S. Penley A Unique Recita- tion The Scientific Beggar Man. SOCIETY in Dublin may be said to be divided into two sections composed of those who attend recep- tions at the Mansion House and those who go to Drawing Rooms at Dublin Castle. Very few, indeed, are those who go to functions at both. This used not to be so. At one time it was customary for the Lord Lieutenant to be present at civic banquets given by the Lord Mayor, and for the Lord Mayor of Dublin to attend His Excellency's levees and be present at St Patrick's ball, given on the iyth March in each year. 39 In Castle and Court House All this, however, is changed, owing chiefly to " the great divide " made by the political feeling which has been allowed to create distrust on both sides, and has fixed such an immeasurable gulf between the Castle and the Mansion House ; between the Representative of the Crown and Representative of the City, as is not likely to be bridged over in our time. Sir George Moyers, LL.D., when Lord Mayor of Dublin in 1881, entertained the Lord Lieutenant and Countess Cowper. This was the last occasion on which the representatives of the sovereign were received at the Mansion House. This division of the body Social in Dublin is also seen in the cleft between the representatives of the Literary Movement in younger Ireland, and those who represent the traditions of Trinity College. Never, indeed, has there been a popular movement in connection with the literary life of Ireland, that has had the whole-hearted sympathy of those con- nected with Dublin University. As an example, I may point to the Thomas Moore Centenary, which got no countenance from T.C.D., though Oliver Wendell Holmes, from the far United States, sent a poem specially written for the occasion, and Moore's genius received recognition from all parts of the world. This spirit of aloofness from the life of the people is the great mistake made by " the Silent Sister." In all great popular movements there are bound to be mistakes and fiascoes, and the Moore Cen- 40 Social Life in Dublin tenary was not without its laughable incidents; the chief of which was that the late Dennis Florence MacCarthy, himself a gifted translator of Calderon, and a poet whose verses on " Waiting for the May " are as musical as any in our language, was no after- dinner speaker, and although expected to deliver an oration, could get no further than " Ladies and Gentleman," despite which fact, the oration duly appeared in the morrow's papers! Another whim- sical occurrence was that the laurel wreath designed for MacCarthy's brows, when placed upon his head, fell down to his shoulders, making a necklet instead of a crown! The Centenary committee would have been worthy of all admiration and true applause, if the result of its labours had been the removal of a hideous statue to Moore, which stands in College Street. Professor Dowden had a good humoured jest on this, and said that the new one to take its place should represent the Muse giving a sound castigation to " Our Western Bul-Bul, half Cupid, half Tom-Tit " for his many peccadillos. Be that as it may, Moore was a true singer, his songs are singable, and although Professor Yelver- ton Tyrrell in his admirable book on " Latin Poetry " has likened his work to Horace at its worst, and has laughed at Fill the bumper fair; Every drop we sprinkle, From the brow of care, Wipes away a wrinkle, there are still left some to whom Wendell Holmes's In Castle and Court House poem on the Centenary will appeal. I quote from memory a couple of stanzas, as the poem has not been reprinted. She is seated before the Clementi piano; There were six of us then there are two of us now. She is singing, the girl with the silver soprano, How the Lord of the Valley was false to his vow. " Let Erin remember," the echoes are calling, Through the Vale of Avoca the waters are rolled, The Exile laments while the night-dews are falling The Morning of Life dawns again as of old. But if T.C.D. was indifferent to a popular move- ment like the Moore Centenary, the vast body of the people were equally indifferent to subjects which greatly moved the University, as, for instance, the Tercentenary Celebrations, which were strictly academic in tone and environment, and of which the most noteworthy were, a garden party given in the Fellows' garden, when a mulberry tree was planted by Miss Salmon, daughter of the Provost; the per- formance in the Leinster Hall of an ode specially composed for the occasion by Sir Robert Stewart, and the production of a play by Undergraduates at the Gaiety Theatre. But though the University, as a body, remained indifferent to the Irish Literary Movement, individual professors took a kindly interest in some of the youthful poets. Thus I met two of these young men at luncheon one Sunday. For policy's sake I shall call them Bates and Thompson. I arrived earlier than the bards and was shown into the Professor's study. I found him busy reading the 42 Social Life in Dublin poems of Bates. He handed me a volume by Thompson, and said: " I think it would be well if you memorised a line or so, to fire off at the author, during luncheon. I am choosing a line from Bates, with the same view." The line I chose was " How much of pain it takes to purify the world." The day was an unclouded one in July, and when we reached the dining-room with its French windows opening on the garden full of summer spice and humming air, I wondered if I had chosen my quota- tion wisely. The Professor got in his quotation very aptly and I was in despair. However, Provi- dence came to my aid. A blundering bee came buzzing in and, taking Thompson's nose for a red, red rose, which it closely resembled, was brushed away, only to return and bury its sting in the poet's preface! Then there was a hub-bub, and blue-bags and other forms of consolation were administered. " When the tumult dwindled to a calm," I quietly observed, " How much of pain it takes to purify the world." Poets are strange things whom we must not judge harshly. One of the poets I met at this period was the late Lionel Johnson, author of " The Art of Thomas Hardy." I was introduced to him by a local bard, W. A. Craig, who wrote a volume of ballads and poems, and of whom more anon. We dined at the hotel, and repaired to the Gaiety Theatre, where we were shown into a small box. 43 In Castle and Court House Johnson, who was quite sober, was no sooner seated than he went to sleep, and snored very loudly. In order to smother the sound I pulled one of the cur- tains which draped the box around him. This only intensified the mystery, and we were, in consequence, the observed of all observers. The play was " The Professor's Love Story," and to the fact that the stage was strewn with hay, and its aroma filling the house, I attribute Johnson's somnolescence. The box was a small one and just held three, but such was Craig's courtesy that he invited a lady to join us. This lady was surprised on seeing the snoring bard. Craig said, apologetically, " He's a very nice fellow when he's awake." " Oh, don't waken him on any account," cried the lady, as she took my seat in front, and I prepared to gaze at the back of her head during the rest of the performance. While I stood with my back to the door I felt an inrush of cold air and, turning round, saw the door quickly close. Thinking someone had made a mistake, I faced about and once more gazed at the coiffure of the lady in front of me. Once again an inrush of cold air, and again a sudden closing of the door. This time I did not turn round. When the door opened again, I saw a man I had never seen before, and whispered, " Do you know anyone here ? " He did not reply, but kept pushing past me. I repeated my query, but he remained silent, and pushed more vigorously, whereupon I smote him, and he fell into the passage. Craig, hearing the 44 Social Life in Dublin commotion, turned as he fell, and cried " Oh my God, my guest, Jack Moloney," or some such a name. We, of course, rushed to the prostrate figure and lifted him in, whereupon Craig, with superfluous politeness, formally introduced us! Then followed mutual recriminations, apologies and regrets, and in the end we all went to supper, and parted the best of friends. Craig was Treasurer to the Corinthian Club, a club run on much the same lines as the Savage. It was founded by Sir Charles Cameron, C.B., the City Analyst, who is, I believe, also a member of the Savage Club. The Corinthians make a point of entertaining people of note who visit Dublin. The membership is large and includes such citizens as Mr Justice Ross, Sir Andrew Reed, Sir George Moyers, and Sir John Ross of Bladenburg. The guests have been many, and have included men and women of all ranks and professions. On one occasion an invitation to supper for Saturday night had been sent to Mr Martin Harvey who was at the Theatre Royal, and to Mr Edward Terry who was at the Gaiety. Both the distinguished actors declined, on the plea that they were leaving for England on the night of the proposed supper, but they accepted an invitation to luncheon which was substituted for supper. As a rule the menus were adorned with verses written by the members, and Craig's, I remember, were exceedingly appropriate. They included the 45 In Castle and Court House following, which I quote, as indeed I do throughout this book, from memory For when " Sweet Lavender " perfumed the air, We knew that Edward Terry must be there ; A compliment we also wished to pay To Martin Harvey and his tragic play, And found this luncheon was " The Only Way." Miss Irene Vanbrugh made a fascinating speech at the Corinthians, when she was a guest at a luncheon given in her honour. If ever women sit in Parliament, Miss Irene Vanbrugh should lead the Opposition. An amusing incident at the Club luncheon referred to, was the recital by the Rev. Chancellor Tisdall of a poem on the Shakespeare-Bacon controversy, written by Sir Francis Brady. Chancellor Tisdall was a picturesque figure, and he recited with vigour the following lines from the poem " If Shakespeare had eaten of rashers well-dressed, Then a glass of 'John Jameson' taken, We all would have said that his plays, at their best, Were largely indebted to Bacon. 'Tis the banner of Matterson flies o'er the world " Here the elocutionist was interrupted by shouts of laughter, caused by the fact that he alone was ignorant of the fact that his vis-a-vis at the luncheon table was Mr Matterson, head of the celebrated firm of bacon curers of Limerick! On one occasion Mr George Alexander and Mr W. S. Penley were both playing at Dublin, and were both invited to supper by the Corinthian Club. Mr Alexander accepted. Mr Penley, for some reason 46 Social Life in Dublin or other declined, and gave a supper himself at a well-known restaurant. I attended both functions, and when I was the guest of Penley, I asked the impersonator of " Charley's Aunt " if I might recite. Everyone was disgusted, and Penley gave a very reluctant consent. I recited the following lines by my friend Edwin Hamilton " 'Twas a scientific beggar-man who said, ' Of starvation I am very nearly dead; Grant a cube of butter, please, And a cylinder of cheese, And a parallelopipedon of bread.' ' and then sat down. " Have you forgotten the rest ? " asked the chairman. " There is no more," I replied. Never was the conclusion of a recitation received with such rapturous applause and with such evident relief ! 47 CHAPTER V QUEEN VICTORIA'S VISIT Queen Victoria visits Ireland Reception at Dublin Castle A Curious Accident Miss Maud Gonne Her Strange Statements Can a Liar be called a Lady ? I am Assaulted The Fate of the Assaulter The Old Guards' Union or The Blackguards' Union Colles's Fracture Mr John Mallon, J.P. Kilmain- ham Memories Miss Gonne carries a Dog-whip I carry Firearms " A Kiss for a Blow " I am Misinformed Miss Gonne's Action for Criminal Libel The Result I am Out on my Own " An all-Gonne Feeling " Friends to the Rescue I Apologise The Irish Joan of Arc. IN March, 1900, Queen Victoria paid her memorable visit to Ireland. The announcement of the Queen's approaching visit was made at a Reception given at Dublin Castle on the i6th, a Reception which took the place of St. Patrick's Ball, which is usually given annually on the I7th of March. The reason for this change I forget, although I was present on the occasion. My recollection of that particular night is very vivid on account of a singular misfortune that befel me. On account of my not having grown thinner during the twelve months preceding, I had sent my 48 Queen Victoria's Visit Court suit to my tailors to be, if possible, enlarged, and had promised to call and have it tried on. I forgot all about my promise, and on the afternoon of the Reception I was particularly busy, so I did not call, but sent for the suit in which I arrayed myself in due course, and set out for the function in the best conveyance I could procure, a heavy brougham of the old type, drawn by two horses. Not being a Cabinet Minister, I had the usual weary wait in a long line of vehicles, and as I neared the Lower Castle Yard I thought I would look out of the window and see how matters were progressing. With considerable exertion I managed to open the window, and in doing so, heard a sound as of ripping of stitches giving way! My suspicions were, alas! confirmed when I sat down and found nothing between myself and the carriage cushions. " Here's a how-do-ye-do ! " said I to myself, as I endeavoured ineffectually to discover if the " rent " were as great as that attributed to Cassius. The friend who accompanied me, an Army Captain, endeavoured to console me by saying it was " all right " and he would get me " pinned up " if I drove back to the Club. Seeing that there was nothing for it, I consented, stipulating, however, that the gallant Captain was to wait until the entrance to the Castle was reached, and then leave me to my fate. This he declined to do, and accordingly we got out of line and drove to the Club, where my garments were pinned together, including the tails of my coat, and we returned in time to arrive at the tail end 49 D In Castle and Court House of the long line of carriages. With the skilful manipulation of my hat, which I held behind me with both hands I bowed to Their Excellencies, Lord and Lady Cadogan, and passed on, but I could not help reflecting that my condition was representa- tive of the condition of the country generally! Of a land of old renown, of which the inhabitants claim to be the descendants of kings, while they them- selves are content to career about in battered hats and with no seats in their nether garments! Of course, Queen Victoria's visit was the cause of not a little political agitation. In the City Hall long and loud were the debates as to whether or not an address of welcome should be presented to Her Majesty, and I am glad to say that my old friend Sir Thomas Devereux Pile, Bart., then Lord Mayor of Dublin carried the day and duly read the address to the Queen. One of the most active of the agitators at this period was Miss Maud Gonne, " a daughter of the gods, divinely tall and most divinely fair." I met Miss Gonne some years earlier in the studio of Miss Sarah Purser, A.R.H.A., who painted a portrait of Miss Gonne and of Mr Michael Davitt, M.P. I also sat, at her request, to Miss Purser, and as the hour at which I did so came between those of the other two sitters, I used to complain of being placed between Beauty and the Beast. Miss Gonne was at this time publishing statements in two papers, one published in Paris, called Ulrelande Libre ; the other published in Dublin So Photo, Chancellor.] MISS MAUD GOXNE. Queen Victoria's Visit and entitled The United Irishman. She wrote for the French paper, articles which were translated fof the Irish one. In one of these articles she stated that the Irish soldiers ordered to the front in the South African War were put on board the transports with manacled wrists. I took exception to such statements, and even went so far as to state in print in a paper of which I was then proprietor and editor, that she was a liar. This led to much unpleasant- ness, as will be seen. The Queen arrived on Wednesday, the 4th of March, and entered the city about one o'clock. I spent the Saturday following in acting as one of the stewards in the Phoenix Park, when Her Majesty inspected some 50,000 children, and on Monday I invited several people to view, from the windows of my office, the Royal procession, as it passed through Grafton Street. At about half past one o'clock I found a man wait- ing to see me. He had on a top coat, and had his arms folded in quite a Napoleonic fashion. I asked him what he wanted. He replied by asking me if I were Mr Ramsay Colles. On my saying " Yes," he struck my silk hat off my head, saying " then take that." I was completely surprised, but I at once grappled with him and found that the stick he carried was a South African jambok (made of hide) and that therefore I could not break it. There were round the walls of my office a number of short swords which I had purchased at a sale. I took off my frock coat and placed it and my silk hat in a place In Castle and Court House of safety, locked the door, and offering one of the swords to the man, I said, " defend yourself, or you will not leave this place alive ! " He made no offer of resistance, whereupon I assumed the airs of a maniac, and chased him round and round the board- room table which stood in the centre of the large room. Finally he tripped over something and fell, and I said to him, " If Her Majesty were not passing through this street under these very windows, I would throw you out of them." I then opened the door, and said, " Get out." He said " I won't." I settled the matter by taking him by the back of the neck and handing him over to the constable on duty at the corner of the street. He was taken to the police station and brought up before Mr Byrne, a divisional magistrate, by whom he was fined one pound or fourteen days, and ordered to find two sureties of five pounds each to keep the peace towards me. This he refused to do, and was sentenced to another fourteen days, exclaiming as he left the dock, " I'll not enter into any bail to keep the peace towards Mr Colles." The report of this case caused some agitation, and a body of men entitled " The Old Guards' Union," sent me a report of the proceedings of their august corporation, in the course of which it was resolved that I should be summarily dealt with for having slandered a lady. I replied in my paper that I cared little for either the Old Guards' Union or the Blackguards' Union, and if any of their number visited my office they might bring the City Ambulance with 52 Queen Victoria's Visit them as I should give them Colles's fracture, referring thereby to the double fracture of the radius known by that name. I was visited by some of these " boys " a little later. One evening, when talking in my office to a friend, a man shuffled in and asked random questions about the paper and some of its contents, and pretended lo look over the file. My friend being suspicious, suddenly opened the office door and three men who were waiting outside cleared off at once, only to be hastily followed by the one in the office. It is not astonishing that under these circum- stances that Mr John Mallon, J.P., Assistant-Com- missioner of Police wrote to me, warning me to carry firearms, and telling me that " Miss Gonne has landed; she carries a dog whip." Mr Mallon also added that I was shadowed by the police. In reply I wrote: " DEAR MR MALLON, Thanks for your letter. Did you ever in your youth read a little book called ' A Kiss for a Blow ' ? There is no knowing what may happen to Miss Gonne if she hits me." I called to see Mr Mallon, whose name is well known in connection with the Phoenix Park murders, the story of which he told in his book " Kilmainham Memories." All the time I was seated with Mr Mallon, police constables kept coming into the room and saluting and then stating such a fact as " Her Majesty is just past the South Circular Road now," and Mr Mallon would look at his watch and take a 53 In Castle and Court House note of the fact. At last he said, with a sigh, " I wish to God she was out of the country." " Why? " I asked, " do you fear any trouble? " " No, no," he replied, " but I've got some informa- tion that Maud Gonne intends to make herself a nuisance by organising a row of some kind or another." I was much interested, and doubly so when Mr Mallon said, on parting, " and, of course, you know that Miss Gonne has ^300 a year pension." I did not know, but thought it would do some good to call public attention to the fact, which I did in the next issue of my paper, The Irish Figaro, printing on the poster " Maud Gonne's Pension." In the paper I pointed out that Miss Gonne, if she con- tinued to agitate as she was then doing, ought to drop her pension. The result was that Miss Gonne took an action against me for criminal libel. The action was based, not on what I had written in the paper, but solely on the contents of the poster. The case presented one curious feature, viz., that the Crown Prosecutor, Mr J. H. Campbell, K.C., M.P., instead of prosecuting me, was defending me! Of course the National Press commented on the fact. The case was heard by Mr Swifte in the Southern Police Court. When Miss Gonne appeared leaning on the arm of the late John O'Leary, the old Fenian leader, she was loudly cheered, whilst I was greeted with hisses! There is no use in raking up the ashes of the dead unhappy past, but in order to understand my 54 Queen Victoria's Visit case, I may refer to the fact that Miss Gonne's language with regard to Queen Victoria was in the very worst of bad taste, and the lengths to which her absurd opinions drove her can be seen in the fact, that she, the daughter of a Colonel in the British Army, wrote advising the Irish soldiers in South Africa to shoot their officers. Sergeant Dodd, Q.C., now Mr Justice Dodd, and the late John F. Taylor, Q.C., appeared for Miss Gonne. Mr Campbell (ex- Solicitor General for Ireland), made an eloquent and able defence, but Mr Swifte had no option but to return the case for trial, my own bail being accepted. If I could have stated from whom I got the information, there would have been much foment, and I deemed it best to be silent. In certain quarters I asked for assistance, and even went so far as to beg that a question might be asked in the House, but I was told not to harass the Government, who had decided not to prosecute. Under these circum- stances, and as I had no personal grudge whatever against Miss Gonne, whom I had met in social circles in Dublin, on several occasions, I followed the advice of my Counsel, and apologised. On my way back from Court, where we appeared before the late Sir Frederick Falkiner, now succeeded as Recorder of Dublin by that very able lawyer, Mr Thomas L. O'Shaughnessy, K.C., I told my friend Mr J. F. Taylor, Miss Gonne's Counsel, that I would apolo- gise to her not alone in the Figaro itself, but also on the offending poster, which accordingly was done. 55 In Castle and Court House My friends rallied round me, a subscription list was opened and a handsome sum subscribed to pay my law expenses, and relieve me of what I described at the time as " an all-Gonne feeling." I have never seen Miss Gonne since I sat opposite to her at the Solicitor's table in Green Street Court House, but I learnt that the reason why she took this action, was because Michael Davitt accused her of being a spy. I never deemed her to be a spy. My belief was that a special grant was made to her and her sister as daughters of a distinguished officer, who had died very suddenly of scarlatina by being housed in insanitary barracks at Kilmainham, but I never had an opportunity to explain this to my fair prosecutor, who has been designated " The Irish Joan of Arc." All I can say is that if Joan of Arc was half as beautiful as Miss Maud Gonne, no man could possibly have been found willing to burn her! CHAPTER VI SOME ACTORS AND ACTRESSES Mrs Brown-Potter and Kyrle-Bellew I appear with Mrs Brown-Potter in "La Dame Aux Camelias " " Armand has Won! " " There's Gold! Gold! ! Gold !!! "Consternation of Kyrle Bellew No Gold! Sir Frederick Falkiner's "At Home "Mr Hugh Fleming "Mr and Mrs Brown-Potter! " Mrs Brown-Potter as an After-dinner Speaker Amateur Actors I appear as "My Blue-eyed Boy" The Hero and the Lancet Sir Henry Irving T.C.D. Historical Society's Banquet " My dear fellow- worker Ellen Terry " Anecdote of Irving John Fergus O'Hea Herman Vezin Romola Tynte The Split Infinitives Sir Herbert Tree May Fortescue Helen Ferrers Bram Stoker Frankfort Moore Surgeon Parke. I HAVE had the pleasure of meeting many actors and actresses, not a few of whom I count among my very good friends. In connection with the Corinthian Club I have already mentioned some notable names. I sometimes amuse myself startling people by telling them that I have appeared on the stage with Mrs Brown-Potter! The facts are these: When Mrs Brown-Potter and Kyrle Bellew were playing at the Theatre Royal, Dublin, in " La Dame Aux Camelias " ; they wanted 57 In Castle and Court House two or three ladies and gentlemen in evening dress to walk on the stage in the gambling scene. All that these amateur actors and actresses had to do, was to watch the play at the tables and pretend to play, and for this purpose they were provided with imitation banknotes and gold coin. At a certain cue they were to cry out " Armand has Won ! " and when supper was announced, to say " Ah, Supper ! " Wilfred Cotton, whose name is familiar as late manager for Forbes Robertson, and whose wife, Ada Reeve, is even better known in the theatrical world than he is himself; was then the Resident Manager of the Theatre Royal. He did not think a rehearsal necessary, but introduced the amateurs to Mr Mus- grave's manager, who was running the company, and he, considering the few words that had to be spoken, contented himself with giving verbal instructions. All went well. " Armand has Won ! " was given at the proper time, as was also " Ah, Supper ! " ; but to the annoyance of Kyrle Bellew, all the amateurs cleared off to " supper," leaving the gold and notes with which they had been provided, on the gaming tables in full view of the audience! Those who remember " La Dame Aux Camelias," will recollect that the heroine returns almost imme- diately to the front to be pelted by the hero with gold, who, as he flings it in handfuls at her, cries " There's Gold ! Gold ! ! Gold ! ! ! " Mr Kyrle Bellew had little or no gold to fling, and asked hurriedly for it. I had all my coins to hand him, and had noticed that little heaps of sovereigns had been left on the 58 Some Actors and Actresses tables, but did not dare to touch them, lest the audience should notice the fact, and take me for a thief! The last time I had the pleasure of a chat with Kyrle Bellew was in the Lyric Theatre when my friend Baroness Orczy's play ' The Sin of William Jackson " was produced. The Recorder of Dublin, at that time Sir Frederick Falkiner, gave an " At Home " for Mrs Brown-Potter. Mr Hugh Fleming, her advance manager, will forgive me for recalling the amusing incident which occurred on that occasion, when the servant, noticing the attention paid by Mr Fleming to Mrs Brown-Potter as she entered, flung open the drawing-room door with the announcement " Mr and Mrs Brown-Potter ! " Mrs Brown- Potter is one of the most beautiful of women, and most versatile and graceful of actresses. I am glad to think that through my suggestion she was asked quite recently by Mr Evans-Jackson, Honorary Secretary of the Imperial Industries Club, to respond to the toast of " The Ladies." Her speech was so remarkably fine, and the delivery so admir- able, that I will be forgiven for quoting the most noticeable passage in it. " We women occupy a great place in the field of work to-day. We go shoulder to shoulder with men; you cannot better yourselves without helping us; you cannot help us without bettering yourselves. I know and feel our power, our influence increases with yours. It matters really not much whether you agree to let us cast a paper into a ballot-box or not, without voting we 59 In Castle and Court House influence politics, science, and art. Who trains and develops the future statesman, scientist, artist, and merchant prince the future unknown ruler? his Mother; who stimulates the man within his own home and inspires him to plant the flag of his ambition on some high hill in life ? his Sweetheart ; who helps the man perplexed and worried with the stress and cares of life ? his Wife ; who delights and charms existence for the old, and makes him prize the evening of his life? his Daughter. Men and women go hand in hand and heart to heart through this life we have gained through our work a position of great importance in the world of toilers which no one can take away." Apropos of amateur actors, I once played the part of the hero of Jerome K. Jerome's pretty little curtain raiser " Sunset," under somewhat trying circum- stances. The heroine was a very charming young girl, since happily married, but at that time engaged to a very jealous young man, a medical student. As readers of " Sunset " will remember, the heroine sinks into an armchair, exclaiming: " He is coming, my own dear love, my Blue-eyed Boy, my King, my Darling" ! This was the cue for my appearance! The first night of the performance I merely played in the same manner as that in which Miss and I had rehearsed it. But I had to moderate the Blue-eyed Boy's transports at meeting his Beloved on all later occasions, for the medical student, who was an 60 Photo, Huber, Edinburgh. MRS. BROWN=POTTER. Some Actors and Actresses athletic youth, watched the proceedings on the stage from the wings with a " lancet " in his hand, prepared to let out the hero's gore if he should exhibit any symptoms of warm bloodedness! The play ran for three nights, and at the closing performance the heroine had to make love to a very nervous hero ! One of the best amateur performances I ever saw in my life, was that of " The Ballad-Monger," given by a very youthful company of amateurs at " Win- stead," Upper Rathmines, when Professor Dowden lived there. Some of my readers may care to see the following which I wrote on the occasion The " Ballad-Monger " once I saw them play (That merry, youthful company I knew); The starving poet weighed a ton or two, And poor Loyse wept like a rainy day When he would supplicate the stars, and pray To them for bread, as he was wont to do. The fair Juliette, with hair of ebon hue, The king, the page, the barber all were gay. And as I gazed I yearned that I might see What Fate for each might in the future hold. Shall Gringoire win as fair a maid ? Shall she Homage receive from poet half as bold ? Who'll shave the barber? Who will Juliette gain? The Sphinx is silent, and I ask in vain ! I met Sir Henry Irving on many occasions, the last being at the Inaugural Supper of the College Historical Society, given at the Shelbourne Hotel on 22nd November, 1894. He was the guest of the evening, and attended the function after appear- ing in " Nance Oldfield " and " The Bells " and was very warmly received. His health was proposed by 61 In Castle and Court House the late Senior Fellow, Dr George Ferdinand Shaw, and, in responding, Irving paid a graceful compli- ment to his " dear fellow-worker, Ellen Terry." Mr Richard Tweedy contributed a recitation to which Irving listened with evident pleasure. My friend, John Fergus O'Hea, the artist, told me a rather amusing story of Irving. When Irving paid his first visit to Ireland, he was called upon by O'Hea who wished to make some lightning sketches of the great actor. Having made a few thumbnail portraits, O'Hea said : " May I ask, Mr Irving, if you can give me a photograph? It may assist me in completing these sketches." " Certainly," replied Irving, producing a couple of dozen photographs of himself, " you can have which you like." O'Hea chose a photograph, and then as he was taking leave, said, " Will you add to your kindness, Mr Irving, by signing this photograph ? " " With pleasure," said Irving, and, taking up a pen he wrote across the foot of the photograph : " To my very dear friend " he paused, and turn- ing to O'Hea, asked in the charming manner, which all lovers of Irving will recall with a sigh, " What name did you say ? " I saw that grand old man, Herman Vezin first, when many years ago he appeared at a recital given by him and Miss Romola Tynte. I must say I greatly admired Miss Tynte's recitations. And her portrait by Sant inspired the following sonnet 62 Some Actors and Actresses addressed to her, and published in The Dublin Evening Mail in 1887, when I was twenty-five flower-like form! fairer than fairest flowers A Dante's rose aflame with Heaven's clear light Thou glowest, star-like, tremulously bright, Breathing effulgence on the soul's dark hours; E'en brightening with thy light the cloud that lowers, And hides from human eyes life's utmost bound; For when thou standest with mild beauty crown 'd. Under no weight the spirit longer cowers, But turneth, like the sunflower, to the sun The sun : the Truth : to which the soul aspires. So shall it be until all days be done When Beauty speaks when, as by lightning's fires, We see that Truth and Beauty are as one To move the soul up never-ending gyres ! 1 wrote a dramatic poem for Miss Romola Tynte, which Herman Vezin wrote her was very good, and advised her to recite it, saying " I would do it if I were you." Never have I heard any recitation to equal in force and fidelity, Herman Vezin's recital of Edgar Allan Foe's " The Raven," which was the interpreta- tion by a magician of the work of an artist in words. The last time I met the great actor was at the now defunct Pharos Club when Lady Warwick and other advocates of so-called " Rational Dress " for women were present. I asked Vezin " Why, what brings you here ? " He replied, " To see the Split Infinitives ! " Sir Herbert Tree and Lady Tree I have met at Professor Dowden's. Mr Beerbohm Tree, as he was then, appeared with Julia Neilson in " The Dancing 63 In Castle and Court House Girl." Miss Neilson won all hearts by her beauty and her impersonation of the heroine. Mr Tree as his scapegrace the duke, was most impressive, especially in the final act before the play was altered to suit the playgoers who want a happy ending, and I was particularly struck by Mrs Tree's quiet force- fulness as Sybil the cripple girl. Another actor who won not a little praise for his dignified conduct on the stage, was Sir Herbert's bull-dog, now deceased. I wrote a leading article in The Dublin Evening Mail on the performance, and had a letter from Mr Beerbohm Tree thanking me for my appreciation of the play. This letter I showed to the Editor of the paper referred to, whereupon he sent me one of his inimitable sketches showing Tree on one side and myself on the other of the following duologue Says Ramsay C. to Beerbohm Tree, "Your acting doth o'erpower me." Says Beerbohm Tree to Ramsay C., " You are a critic, Sir, I see." Tears of appreciation were falling from my eyes, which Tree was depicted as catching in his hat! At Dr John Knott's I met the Garthornes and Miss Helen Ferrers, the gifted sister of that charm- ing actress, Miss May Fortescue, whom I first met at Mrs Orr William's house at Blackrock. Miss Fortescue made a decided hit in the dramatic version of Ouida's " Moths," in which Miss Ferrers appeared as the Countess. Mrs Knott's sisters were married to Mr Bram Stoker (for many years Sir Henry Jrving's manager, and eventually his biographer), and 64 Some Actors and Actresses Mr Frankfort Moore, the author of many delightful novels. Mr Bram Stoker's " Dracula " and other weird tales are very powerful. With this connection with the stage it is not sur- prising that Mrs Knott frequently entertained leading actors and actresses as well as the representatives of other professions, for Dr John Knott is a specialist, of whom more anon ; and it was in 34, York Street, that I was introduced to the late Surgeon Parke, of South African fame, to whom a monument was erected in the grounds of Leinster House. Surgeon Parke was a very remarkable man who died quite young, the result of an arduous life in a very trying climate. His book on Stanley's work has had a big circulation. His sister is married to Mr Herbert Malley, the well-known solicitor. On one occasion someone looking at Mrs Malley, asked me, " Is she a professional beauty ? " " No," I replied, " Mrs Malley is content to be an amateur." Another representative of the stage whom I met was the beautiful and gifted Lily Hanbury (Mrs Herbert Guedalla), whom I had the pleasure of taking in to supper on an occasion when the late Provost of T.C.D., Dr Edward Salmon, the great mathematician, took in Mrs Tree. Miss Hanbury, I remember, talked chiefly of Canada, under the impression that I had been there. I never have ! CHAPTER VII LAW AND SOME LAWYERS Some Eminent Lawyers Lord Ashbourne Sir Edmund Bewley John Mayne Colles, LL.D., J.P. Sir Edward Carson J. H. M. Campbell, K.C., M.P.. ex-Solicitor-General for Ireland John Gordon, K.C., M.P. for Londonderry The Dublin Boundaries Bill, 1900 The Added Area The Area not Added Drumcondra and Clontarf Sir John Atkinson (now Lord Atkinson), Attorney-General for Ireland, and the Boundaries Bill Drumcondra Petty Sessions I sit at Drumcondra Mr James Brady, T.C. Messrs Ennis and Hanmore Amusing Proceedings Gilbertian Situation I give Costs against the Crown Proclamation by the Lord Lieutenant A Case in London I am Receiver Robinson Printing Company v. Chic Limited Mr Justice Warrington decides against me An Appeal Lords Justices Vaughan Williams Romer and Cozens Hardy Re-trial I emerge Triumphant A Precedent in English Law George Dames Burtchaell, Athlone Pursuivant. THERE are very few eminent representatives of the law in Dublin whom I have not met inside the Courts, if not outside. Lord Ashbourne, Lord Chancellor for Ireland, 1885-1892, 1895-1906, married a Miss Colles, herself the daughter of a lawyer, the late H. J. Cope Colles, Principal Taxing 66 Law and Some Lawyers Master for Ireland. The late Judge, Sir Edmund Bewley married her sister. Their brother, John Mayne Colles, LL.D., J.P., Registrar in Lunacy, edited a very interesting diary kept by his grand- father, John Mayne, in 1814, and is author of one or two legal handbooks. Mr Lecky, the historian, gave me a letter to Sir Edward Carson when I was appli- cant for a Commissionership in Western Africa, a post for which I was recommended by, amongst other lawyers, Mr J. H. M. Campbell, K.C., M.P., ex-Solicitor General for Ireland, and Mr John Gordon, K.C., M.P., South Londonderry. I have always had a great respect for the law, and a great reverence for lawyers, although some of the incidents in my career may seem to prove the con- trary, as, for instance, my conduct in connection with the Dublin Boundaries Bill of 1900. The facts are these. The Act of 1874, section 12, lays it down that every spirit dealer must have his license renewed at a licensing petty sessions. Now the Boundaries Bill detaches Clontarf and Drumcondra (two suburbs of Dublin) from the County for all criminal and civil business and expressly declares that County Dublin Magistrates shall cease to have jurisdiction. Under aii Act of George III. the Dublin City magistrates received more than usual powers, and the area of their jurisdiction was defined. Clontarf and Drum- condra were not included, and the Boundaries Bill, which was, I believe, framed by the then Attorney- General for Ireland, Sir John Atkinson (now Baron Atkinson, K.C., P.C., Lord of Appeal), did not clear 67 In Castle and Court House the matter up. Hence the crux ; the tangle which I resolved to set straight. Under the Boundaries Act, the County magis- trates were unable to sit at Drumcondra, and, of course, the Divisional magistrates refused to go out- side their recognised sphere of jurisdiction. There was nothing for me to do but to go as a borough magistrate and hold Petty Sessions in the neglected area! Accordingly, on the morning of Friday, i8th January, 1901, I appeared at the small Court House at Drumcondra, on one of the windows of which had been pasted the following: " NOTICE. Drumcondra Petty Sessions will not be held here in future for the hearing of cases which have arisen since the I4th inst. Cases arising in the Drumcondra Petty Sessions District, County Dublin, will be heard at the Gymnasium, Claremont, Glasnevin, on i;th January, 1901. H. DUFFY, Clerk of the Petty Sessions." Entering the Court House I asked to see the Petty Sessions Clerk, to whom I presented the great Parchment Document issued in February, 1896 (just five years earlier) when Her Majesty's Commission of the Peace had been assigned to me. Mr Duffy was dumfounded! He had never anticipated such a turn of events. While very respectful, he declined to produce the Petty Sessions Book, and remained as far in the background as possible. The legal gentlemen present were the late E. A. 68 Law and Some Lawyers Ennis, a barrister (instructed by Messrs Ennis and Machen), and two well-known solicitors, each with a large practice, Mr James Brady, T.C., and the late Michael Hanmore. But, strange to say, there were no persons present to represent the prosecutors! The Royal Irish Constabulary, who are usually very much in evidence at such proceedings, were con- spicuous by their absence! Only one sergeant and he in what may be styled " undress " uniform after first casting furtive glances from outside the door and windows of the Court, at last entered with a tread as noiseless as one on the track of a burglar. Thus, as The Dublin Evening Telegraph wittily put it, there was presented, perhaps for the first time in the history of Ireland, the spectacle of a Court with a magistrate eager to dispense justice, advocates armed cap-a-pie, panting to enter the lists for their clients, but no police constable willing to prosecute, not even deigning to put his foot inside the Court. I shall not weary my readers with an account of the proceedings, which were very amusing and lasted for over an hour, but will content myself with an extract from Mr Ennis's speech, in the course of which he said : " We have been invited to nothing less than a burlesque here to-day. The action of the authorities was like that of a person who put an advertisement into a newspaper, ' Lodgings to Let,' and then when someone went down to engage the lodgings they found that the bill had disappeared off the window. Evidently law is to be administered no longer in 69 In Castle and Court House Drumcondra, and the inhabitants of the district will find themselves face to face with the fact that ' the enterprising burglar ' who loves to hear ' the little brook a-gurgling, or listen to the pleasant village chime/ may burgle with impunity; the cut-throat pursue unmolested his career in crime, and the coster indulge without molestation in his favourite pastime of jumping on his mother." Mr Ennis also referred, in mock grandiloquent language, to what he facetiously called " The lapsus lingua of the law ! " The Dublin Boundaries Bill had been advocated by the Lord Mayor, Sir Thomas Devereux Pile, Bart., and Mr Ennis's remarks included one to the effect that Lord Mayor Pile might be censured and opposed on account of attaching to the City of Dublin a new area in which crime can be committed with impunity! Ennis familiarly known as Gasparo Ennis had a pretty wit. Addressing the Bench, he said: " You give me one pound costs against Constable O'Shea, your Worship ? " His Worship Certainly. Mr Ennis (to Sergeant Joyce) What is the name of the new Inspector General ? Sergeant Joyce Colonel Neville Chamberlain. Mr Ennis I'll apply to him for this money if Constable O'Shea does not pay up. The proceedings ended by my endorsing the summonses on which defendants attended ; " No appearance, costs awarded 2os."; thus giving costs against the Crown ! The matter was ended, months 70 Law and Some Lawyers later by a Proclamation by the Lord Lieutenant, Earl Cadogan, K.G., including the disputed areas within the new area. What Sir John Atkinson or Sir Patrick Coll, chief crown solicitor for Ireland, thought of the affair, I never ascertained, but Sir Thomas Pile told me, with a smile, that he thought I ought to be transported. Gasparo Ennis's love of a practical joke got me into trouble with the late Michael Hanmore. Ennis produced a letter from Mr Spencer Lyttleton, at one time secretary to Mr W. E. Gladstone, in which it was stated that Mr Gladstone was glad to hear that Mr Philip Keogh, B.L. was engaged on a life of Mr Hanmore, but that with regard to the book being dedicated to him (W.E.G.) he preferred to leave the matter to his own discretion. Hanmore took an action for libel and, of course, I had no defence, but he eventually forgave me for my part in the matter, and was quite friendly when he appeared at Drumcondra on the unique occasion to which I have referred. Years later I created a precedent in English law which is frequently cited ; and will be found in the " Yearly Practice." In 1904 I was receiver for the Debenture Holders of Chic Limited, and in order to keep the paper going I assigned to the Printers, the Robinson Printing Company, of Brighton, a portion of the book debts. To this action the Debenture Holders, Mr William O'Malley, M.P., and Mr John Cansfield, then Manager of Pearkes Limited, objected. An In Castle and Court House action was taken by Robinson against Chic and came before Mr Justice Warrington, who said I had far exceeded my powers as Receiver, and held that " the Receiver had no power to give a charge or lien on the Company's property." The Robinson Printing Company appealed, and on 24th November, 1904, the case came before Lord Justice Vaughan Williams, Lord Justice Romer and Lord Justice Cozens-Hardy, who sent the case for re-trial, with the result that Mr Justice Warrington gave judgment in favour of the Plaintiffs, as reported in nearly a column of The Times, iyth April, 1905. In delivering judgment with personal liability against the defendants, I was (I presume inadver- tently) referred to as " the Defendant, Colles," and accordingly, I wrote to The Times from The Royal Colonial Institute of which I was at the time a Fellow: " My attention has been drawn to a statement in your issue of the i;th inst, in which I am referred to in the above trial (Robinson v. Chic) by Mr Justice Warrington as ' the Defendant, Colles.' As his Lordship's judgment was given with costs and personal liability against the defendants, I shall be much obliged by your insertion of my statement to the effect that I was no party to the trial. My acts as Receiver for the Debenture Holders were ratified by the decision of the learned judge, which creates a very important precedent in law." This letter was given a conspicuous position in The Times. 72 Photo, Laf.iyitte ] RIGHT HON. EDWARD GIBSON, LORD ASHBOURNE, P.C., Lord High Chancellor of Ireland, 1885-6, 1886-1892, 1895-1906. Law and Some Lawyers This has, I fear, been a dull chapter, but, after all, it is not every man who has driven a coach-and- four through an Act of Parliament and created a precedent in English Law. Apropos of the law, I once had the pleasure of dis- covering in the original MS. " The Laws of England " of Henry de Bracton, translated word for w rd and line for line by Richard Colles, who was called to the English Bar in 1842, and died Sheriff of Castlemaine, Victoria, in 1883. This volume I had strongly bound, and I then presented it to the Royal Irish Academy, of which I was at the time a Member, and in the library of which it now reposes. When a boy at Bective College, a school referred to by Thackeray in his " Irish Sketch Book " as one in which there were more prizes given than there were pupils, I was ground in English Literature by Mr John Ross (now Mr Justice Ross) who had a very brilliant career at T.C.D., and has had the almost unprecedented good fortune of being made a judge at forty years of age. Mr Seymour Bushe, K.C., and Mr Richard Meredith (now the Master of the Rolls) acted as my counsel on more than one occasion. Mr T. M. Healy, M.P., has also appeared on my behalf, and won my case for me. One of the most brilliant lawyers I ever met was Constantine Molloy, Q.C., a criminal lawyer of remarkable acumen. Molloy was a friend of Neilson Hancock, Clerk of the Crown and Hanaper, a post ably filled later by J. Nugent Lentaigne. Hancock's sister married Professor James Thompson, a brother of 73 In Castle and Court House Lord Kelvin. I knew Hancock's nephew, W. J. Hancock, who used, when we were boys, to tell me stories of his illustrious uncle's doings. Young Hancock went to Perth, Western Australia. He was a remarkable boy, perhaps the most remarkable I ever met, save only young Bell, the inventor of the Edison- Bell phonograph. I must not forget my friend George Dames Burtchaell, who is a specialist in Genealogies and Registrar of the Office of Arms, Ireland, and Inspec- tor of Historical MSS., and Athlone Pursuivant, and has more than once been summoned before the Com- mittee of Privileges of the House of Lords in cases of disputed titles, notably in the late case of the Claims of the Countess of Yarborough and the Countess of Powis to the Baronies of Fauconberg, Darcy de Knayth and Mcinill. Burtchaell was successful as to the first two Baronies, and conse- quently the Barony of Fauconberg was allowed to the Countess of Yarborough and the Barony of Darcy de Knayth to the Countess of Powis. George Dames Burtchaell was also engaged in the case of the claim of Lord Mowbray Segrave and Stourton to the Earldom of Norfolk, created in 1312. This was not successful, but the main point at issue has not been decided. These are the only two instances of a member of the Irish Bar only being engaged in purely English cases. 74 CHAPTER VIII ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE Algernon Charles Swinburne Ralph Waldo Emerson William Wordsworth My Visit to the Lake Dis- trict Keswick I stay in Coleridge's Cottage next Greta Hall I wind Wordsworth's Clock! Canon Rawnsley Mrs Lynn Linton " Her Autobiography of Christopher Kirkland " Robert Southey Gras- mere I sleep all night at the foot of Wordsworth's Grave Professor Dowden on " Intimations of Immortality " Thomas Gray Swinburne and Wordsworth. IN his " English Traits," Ralph Waldo Emerson in describing his visit to Walter Savage Landor, wrote "He pestered me with Southey, but who is Southey ? " This statement so roused Swinburne's ire that he referred to Emerson as an " impudent and foulmouthed Yankee Philosophaster." Although I trust I have never been guilty of being impudent or foulmouthed, I must confess that in my sixteenth and seventeenth years I " pestered " a great many people with Swinburne. Until 1878, or thereabouts, my " great poet " was Wordsworth, and I diligently read all the Lake Poets and studied the writings of De 75 In Castle and Court House Quincey. So great was my enthusiasm that I paid a visit to Lake Land, tramping over the whole of that beautiful country on foot. In order to more closely follow the career of Wordsworth, I, in my enthusiasm first visited Cockermouth, the birthplace of the poet, and then repaired to Keswick, where I had the happiness to stay for a week under the hospitable roof of Miss Christopherson who resided in the cottage next to, and in the same grounds as Southey's house, Greta Hall. In this cottage Samuel Taylor Coleridge lived for some time. It was the residence of Southey's model landlord. Miss Christopherson had purchased at a sale a large grandfather's clock, once the property of Wordsworth, and this clock she, to my great delight, permitted me to wind ! It was one of the old-fashioned kind which told the day of the week and of the month, and the changes of the moon. During my short sojourn in Keswick, I had the pleasure of being introduced to the Rev. Canon Rawnsley, who has written well and wisely on the Lake Poets, and is a poet himself of no mean powers, his forte being " the weaving of the sonnet." Canon Rawnsley is related to the Tennysons, and is thus a link between two Poets Laureate. Mrs Lynn Linton was expected to arrive shortly, but I could not await the day of her arrival and did not see her, though later she invited me to what she facetiously called her " mansion in the skies," referring thereby to her flat in Queen Anne's Mansions. I bought in Keswick a three volume copy of " The Autobiography 76 Algernon Charles Swinburne of Christopher Kirkland," in which those who read between the lines discover the autobiography of Mrs Lynn Linton, and I had one or two letters from her during my stay in her beloved Keswick. On a Sunday I walked beside the Greta and attended the church in which Lough's monument of Southey recalls a great and gracious memory to his forgetful country; and heard Canon Rawnsley preach. I visited the graveyard at the side of the church and read on the tomb in which Southey's ashes repose, the injunction Not to the grave, not to the grave, My soul descend to contemplate The form that once was dear. I was young and impressionable, and I must con- fess I burst into tears, for Southey, thanks to my friend Edward Dowden, is to me no mere name. He is a living presence, and this humble tribute to the fine monograph on Southey in " The Englishmen of Letters " series, is the lowest stone on the cairn of praise erected by many readers, the apex being the judgment pronounced by Sir Henry Taylor, who knew and loved Southey, and who said of Professor Dowden's book that for him it made Southey live once more. Higher praise than this could not be given. But I could not stay long in Keswick, and one evening in July I determined to push on to Grasmere. I started at 8 p.m., and walked along the dusty road 77 In Castle and Court House through the beautiful Vale of St. John, looking out for the cottage described by De Quincey, who gives a humorous account of seeing at midnight in December, when the frost was keen as it can be in the Lake District, a mammoth in shirt-sleeves sitting smoking in the front garden! When I visited the district the mammoth, no doubt, had long ago departed to those regions where the good mammoths go, and I passed his cottage as silent as my shadow cast by the full moon. Walking beside the shore of Lake Thirlmere, I came upon a group of workmen whose daily work was, like old Kaspar's, done ; and who were enjoying their pipes before turning in. They were engaged, I learned, on the works, just then in full swing, for the carrying of the waters of Thirlmere to Man- chester. I was invited by the foreman to inspect some of the machinery, and I readily consented to do so, though it was nearly eleven o'clock, and when, having followed the many windings of the tunnel into which I was taken, and having listened to elaborate descriptions of the machinery employed, I emerged a wearied though a wiser man, I found it was midnight. I had intended to put up at the Old Swan Inn, about a mile nearer Grasmere, but when I reached it, the Inn was closed and evidently untenanted. This was the Inn, it will be remembered, at which Scott used to call daily for a glass of beer, when staying with Wordsworth, who was a teetotaller, and how the Inn-keeper disconcerted Scott by inquiring 78 Algernon Charles Swinburne one day as he passed with his host, whether he would have his glass as usual! I also was disconcerted to find the Inn closed, but I pushed on into Grasmere passing the little church on my right and walked up to the door of the modern hotel, the Rothsay. It also was closed. They keep early hours in Lake Land. Not a twinkle from the fly, Not a glimmer from the worm. Windows fast and obdurate ! How the garden grudged me grass ! Where I stood the iron gate Ground its teeth to let me pass! I did not like to be selfish. There was evidently no hall porter, and I did not wish to disturb the rest of the sojourners in the hotel. There was also another good reason for my not applying my hand to the knocker or the bell, and that was a huge mastiff who, unlike the gate, " ground its teeth " but would not " let me pass." Every movement I made was to the accompaniment of a growl from this Cerberus, I therefore beat a retreat without enquiring with Coleridge " What is it ails the mastiff bitch ? " I was like Browning's serenader at the villa " So wore night; the East was grey, White the broad-faced hemlock flowers : There would be another day. 'Ere its first of heavy hours Found me, I had passed away." Passed away, but not to any great distance. I had 79 In Castle and Court House marked the church and the churchyard as I passed them, and I opened the little wooden gate and went to the church door, but it was, as I expected, locked. Then I explored the churchyard with the view of finding a resting-place, but there was none. I had a warm cloak in the double strap which held the tramp's outfit on my back, and wrapping this about me, I made my lodging on the cold, cold ground, agreeably cold on this lovely July night; and with the light of the moon overhead and the music of the river Rotha in my ear, wearied with my tramp from Keswick, I slept soundly. I awoke at about six o'clock and glancing round, the first object that met my eyes was a tombstone bearing the name " William Wordsworth." Rising, I sat on the low stone wall that runs round the churchyard, and read also by the increasing sunlight, the familiar name of Hartley Coleridge and also that of Jane Clough, the mother, I believe, of Arthur Hugh Clough. This incident was referred to by H. A. Hinkson, Barrister and Novelist, in a skit he published at the time of the T.C.D. Tercentenary, and was pointed out to me before I met Mr Hinkson. Referring to those who visited Professor Dowden's house on Sunday afternoons, he says " those who assemble there include all kind of students of English literature, from the youth who has just discovered that there is a difference in style between the work of Tennyson and that of Browning, to the enthusiast who sought inspiration by sleeping on the grave of Wordsworth." When I mentioned to Professor So Algernon Charles Swinburne Dowden the fact that I had slept at the foot of Wordsworth's grave, he enquired with all the gravity of the true humorist: " Had you any Intimations of Immortality'?" Years after, when I edited the poems of Hartley Coleridge for Messrs Routledge, my knowledge of the Lake District proved of immense value to me, for I knew every inch of the ground. I ascended Skiddaw when in Keswick, and admired the Cockshot Woods praised by Gray, who was, as Mr Edmund Gosse pointed out, the pioneer in praise of the Lake District. In his admirable volume " English Litera- ture in the Eighteenth Century," my friend Thomas Sergeant Perry clearly proved how up to Gray's time, any great elevation was always looked on in poetry as " horrid." Gray loved the mountains with all the love which Wordsworth afterwards displayed, and was the first to praise their grandeur, and make the reader of poetry have a true sense of their sublimity. My readers will naturally ask what has all this to do with Swinburne? The link it must be con- fessed is slight. I began with the intention of devoting the chapter to Swinburne, but the reference to Wordsworth led me off on a side track. Swin- burne, it must be remembered, was a Wordsworthian all his life, and his tributes to Wordsworth in prose and verse are many, ranging from the reference to him in the sonnet on Thomas Carlyle's " two vene- mous volumes of Reminiscences," in which he is referred to as 81 F In Castle and Court House " One whose clear spirit like an angel hung Between the mountains, hallowed by his love, And the sky, stainless as his soul, above:" to the famous essay on Wordsworth and Byron which appeared in i;< The Nineteenth Century," and is reprinted in the " Miscellanies." In the Life of the author of a little book very popular in my childhood, entitled " Amy Herbert, or the Happy Home," we are told that the writer accompanied Lady Jane Swinburne and Algernon, then a little boy, to call on Wordsworth. The old poet received his visitors courteously and, patting Algernon on the head, enquired if he knew any of his poems. Yes, Algernon knew several of them, including " We are seven," and " The Pet Lamb." Wordsworth was pleased, and remarked that a know- ledge of his poems would not do the boy any harm. So far as his readers are aware, a knowledge of Wordsworth had no ill effect on Swinburne, who praised Wordsworth with a poet's discernment in the essay referred to, pointing out the ^schylean quality of such verses as those on Peele Castle with their " trampling waves " as a phrase worthy of him who wrote irovTitov re KVfiaTwv avqpiBfiov yeXaoyia and praising in glowing language the beauty of such lines as " She is known to every star And every wind that blows," from that otherwise prosaic poem " The Thorn." 82 Algernon Charles Swinburne Swinburne cannot be discussed in this chapter, but must be referred to in the next. My readers must be content to accept, so far as this chapter is con- cerned, the lines of Landor " Pass me. I only am the rind To the rich fruit that you will find, My friends, in every leaf behind." CHAPTER IX A. C. SWINBURNE (CONTINUED) The Warden of Alexandra College Rev. R. Perceval Graves Professor Mahaffy Dr W. J. Chetwode Crawley The Life of Sir William Rowan Hamilton Professor Mahaffy on Old Age Swinburne's Prose and Poetry " Under the Microscope " I write to Swinburne His Letters to me A Forgotten Poem by Swinburne Richard Herne Shepherd Swin- burne's " Cleopatra " Swinburne and the Irish Unionist Alliance A Quick-change Artist ! THE first person I ever met who knew Swinburne personally was the Warden of Alexandra College, Dublin, the Rev. R. Perceval Graves, who wrote the " Life of Sir William Rowan Hamilton." When that book was first published I met one Sunday afternoon Professor John Pentland Mahaffy whose fame is world-wide as a scholar, and in particular in connec- tion with his books on Greece. We met as we had done before, at the house of that genial member of the Senate of T.C.D., Dr W. J. Chetwode Crawley, n, Merrion Square, at one time the residence of the Lord High Chancellor of Ireland, Lord Ash- 84 Algernon Charles Swinburne bourne who, on several occasions held levees there. Professor Mahaffy praised the book but laughingly said in the course of his remarks, " Graves has no sense of humour, he writes for instance, ' Hamilton was not much of a poet, but on one occasion after a very tempestuous crossing from Holyhead to Dublin, he threw off the following sonnet ' ! " Knowing Dr Chetwode Crawley's love of humour, I said " A pTopos of ' throwing off/ I have been read- ing some of Milton's prose works." " Are they worth reading ? " asked Mahaffy. " Oh, yes," I said, " I think they are, for instance he says, a propos of your remarks, * there are some people full of such a queasy spirit of luke-warmness that they would give a vomit to God Himself!' ' Crawley was amused when I added that Mr Alfred Austin, the Poet Laureate had a sonnet written on a cross-channel steamer, in which he exclaims: " England, I reach forth my soul to thy shores." It was on that occasion when discussing old age in general, and " De Senectute " in particular, that Professor Mahaffy said: " The most marvellous old man I ever met was after the siege of Paris. It was at a civic banquet given to celebrate our deliverance from having to eat cats and dogs and rats and mice. He was one hundred and eight and as gay as a lark ! A marvel- lous man! But I am sorry to say there were some very wicked French actresses present, and he went 85 In Castle and Court House away with the worst of them, and was found dead in his bed next morning ! " " Well," I said, " the moral is, I suppose, ' beware of wicked French actresses ! ' " Ah, yes ! " said Mahaffy, gravely, " when you are a hundred and eighth Professor Mahaffy, it will be remembered, does not confine his attention to Greece, he is also the author of a charming book on " The Principles of the Art of Conversation," a delightful volume dedicated to the Marchioness of Zetland. The Rev. Perceval Graves was a picturesque figure. He also was a Wordsworthian, and knew Wordsworth personally, as readers of Alexander Grossart's edition of the prose works of Wordsworth are aware. I first met Dr Graves at Professor Dowden's house, " Winstead," Upper Rathmines, when the visitors included a son of Louis von Ranke, the great historian. At that time the poems and prose of Swinburne were to me " a wonder and a wild delight." His " Study of Shakespeare," the first volume of his prose which I read, seemed eloquent as a poet's apprecia- tion of a poet, and the grand chorus in " Atalanta in Calydon " haunted me with the magnificence of its music, while the " Erectheus " was full of the sounds of battle and of a breaking sea. I read every scrap of printed matter to which Swinburne's name was attached, and as I had not the means to purchase everything, I transcribed from volumes in Trinity College Library, or in the National Library of 86 Algernon Charles Swinburne Ireland, all his fugitive contributions to The Athenezum, The Spectator, and other papers, besides his articles on Marlowe and Beaumont and Fletcher, which appeared in the " Encyclopaedia Britannica." Thus I possess at the present moment, the work of my youth, in the shape of a MS. volume of Swinburne which Mr Watts-Dunton has told me is unique. The contents include transcriptions of Swinburne's letters to Lord Houghton and to Sir Henry Taylor, and also a poem which appeared in '' The Contemporary Review," a most amusing parody of Tennyson's " Despair," entitled " Disgust.'' As time rolled on I acquired copies of " Once a Week " containing Swinburne's short prose story " Dead Love " with the illustration by M. J. Lawless and the first edition of " Bloody Son " which appeared later under the title of " Fratricide " in the first series of " Poems and Ballads." Thus I became word- perfect in Swinburne's poetry and prose, and have frequently been complimented by Mr Watts-Dunton on the fact that I have so faithfully memorised long passages from both. In 1886, when I was twenty-four, I became much interested in a controversy which had aroused bad blood as early as 1872, that which arose out of the publication of Robert Buchanan's " The Fleshly School of Poetry," and Swinburne's reply, entitled " Under the Microscope." I found that the latter was completely out of print, and it struck me that I ought to suggest to Swinburne to reprint it. Accord- ingly I wrote in November, 1886, to the poet, care of 87 In Castle and Court House his publishers, Messrs Chatto and Windus, and received in reply a postcard on which Swinburne wrote that he would very much like to see a copy of the pamphlet in question. I happened to mention this fact to Professor Dowden, whose Sunday after- noon receptions found me a frequent visitor at " Winstead," Temple Road, Upper Rathmines, where he then lived, and he, with the ready kindli- ness which is one of his leading characteristics, offered to lend me a copy of the pamphlet. Having secured this, I wrote to Swinburne on the subject, and he replied, saying that his friends had often advised him to reprint the pamphlet, at the same time cutting away the merely ephemeral passages of satire or controversy. My readers will naturally ask, " Where are these letters ? " My reply is that my good friend Mr Watts- Dunton, who has seen the letters and finds them quite worthy of printing, in face of his public announcement that no letters of Swinburne are to be printed, cannot see his way to allow me to print them, a decision he told me, caused him not a little regret. Mr Watts-Dunton is Swinburne's sole executor and even if I could rebel against his decision I would not do so, for his unfailing kindness to me on many occasions is counted amongst the most pleasurable experiences of my life. I have, however, received his permission to give the gist of the letters, though not their ipsissima verba. Swinburne's wishes with regard to the pamphlet 88 Algernon Charles Swinburne made me very enthusiastic, and I wrote offering to transcribe it and prepare it for the press. This offer Swinburne accepted in the most gracious way, and I spent my evenings for nearly three weeks busily engaged in making a clear and faithful transcription of the little book from cover to cover, and when com- pleted, I sent it off to " The Pines " with a letter expressing the pleasure it had given me to meet his wishes, and taking the opportunity to ask one or two questions in connection with passages and references in his poems which had puzzled me. One of my questions was as to the identity of the persons referred to in the following verses There lived a singer in France of old By the tideless, dolorous Midland Sea ; In a land of sand and ruin and gold There shone one woman, and none but she. Another inquiry was as to where I should find the verses addressed by Landor to Victor Hugo, to which reference is made in a footnote in " Essays and Studies." In his reply, Swinburne, after thanking me for the MS., which arrived safely, told me that the " Singer in France " and the lady, were Rudel and the lady of Tripoli, whom, he pointed out had been the sub- ject of one of Robert Browning's shorter lyrics ; and he informed me that Landor's lines to Hugo are on page 1 60 of his " Heroic Idylls," and added: " Lest you should not have the book by you, I transcribe them for you separately." This he did, and I give 89 In Castle and Court House the lines here with the words he wrote under them VICTOR HUGO Whether a poet yet is left In France, I know not and who knows ? But Hugo, of his home bereft, In quiet Jersey finds repose. Honour to him who dares to utter A word of truth in writ or speech; In Hugo's land the brave but mutter Half one, in dread whose ear it reach. Under these lines Swinburne wrote " Written by Walter Savage Landor, at. 88, and transcribed for Ramsay Colles by Algernon Charles Swinburne." The letter which contained these lines, which were clearly written on one side of a sheet of notepaper, concluded as follows, and I feel sure I shall be for- given for the pride with which I transcribe them : " And now, having replied to your various queries, let me thank you again very cordially for the great trouble you have taken and the great obligation you have conferred on, Yours very sincerely, A. C. SWINBURNE." During later years whenever a passage in his writings puzzled me, I ventured to write to the poet, 90 Algernon Charles Swinburne and always received a courteous answer, generally by return post. With Mr Andrew Lang I admire the verses on Cleopatra which appeared in an early issue of the " Cornhill Magazine," and I suggested to Swinburne to reprint them, but he replied that they were scribbled off to accompany Mr Frederick Sandys' " noble design," which had been used as a frontispiece to the " Cornhill," and added that he had written another set of verses to serve as an illustra- tion to the same artist's " Gentle Spring," which was printed in the " Royal Academy Catalogue." This was fresh news to me. I turned to R. Herne Shepherd's Bibliography of Swinburne and failed to find any reference to these verses, and wrote to Mr Shepherd, telling him. He replied he had looked up the lines in the catalogue, and transcribed them for me. The verses on Cleopatra were not reprinted because George Meredith had protested against their re-appearance, saying that they were a travesty of Swinburne's worst style. Nevertheless, they contain some memorable and haunting lines as, for instance, the following She holds her future close, her lips Hold fast the face of things to be; Actium, and sound of war that dips Down the blown valleys of the sea, Far sails that flee, and storms of ships. The poem was prefaced by a clipping from the first sketch of " Chastelard," which was never pub- In Castle and Court House lished, the lines being attributed to " T. Hayman, Fall of Anthony, 1655." " Her beauty might outface the jealous hours, Turn shame to love and pain to a tender sleep, And the strong nerve of hate to sloth and tears; Make Spring rebellious in the sides of frost, Thrust out lank Winter with hot August growths, Compel sweet blood into the husks of death, And from strange beasts enforce harsh courtesy." The poem of " Gentle Spring," being buried in the Catalogue of the Exhibition of the Royal Academy of Arts for 1 865 (page 20), I transcribe for the delectation of those to whom every scrap of Swinburne's verse gives pleasure O virgin mother of gentle days and nights, Spring of fresh buds and Spring of swift delights, Come, with lips kiss'd of many an amorous hour, Come, with hands heavy from the fervent flower, The fleet first flower that feels the wind and sighs, The tenderer leaf that draws the sun and dies ; Light butterflies, like flowers alive in the air, Circling and crowning thy delicious hair, And many a fruitful flower and floral fruit Born of thy breath and fragrant from thy foot. Thee, mother, all things born desire, and thee, Earth, and the fruitless hollows of the sea Praise, and thy tender winds of ungrown wing Fill heaven with murmurs of the sudden Spring. In 1893, when Gladstone's Home Rule Bill roused into being at the call of Mr Culverwell, F.T.C.D., one of the strongest political organizations in Ireland, The Irish Unionist Alliance, Swinburne was 92 Algernon Charles Swinburne appealed to for a poem, and wrote his " A Song for Unionists." In the MS. which I saw, were the lines See the ravens flock to feast Dark as robe or creed of priest. It was pointed out to the poet that on a great political question like Home Rule or Unity, the people should be united, and that the reference to priesthood in these lines might lead to disagreement and possibly disintegration of an otherwise united body, and he was asked to substitute another line, which he did by return post, as follows See the ravens flock to feast Dense as round some death-struck beast, a reading which was adhered to on the appearance of the poem in the collected edition of 1904. 93 CHAPTER X A. C. SWINBURNE (CONCLUDED) Walt Whitman W. M. Rossetti I try to raise Subscrip- tion in Ireland for Whitman Correspondence with Good Gray Poet Swinburne's Earlier and Later Criticism of Walt Whitman" Under the Microscope " " Whitmania " " The Damnedest Simulacrum " Lilian Cabot Perry Her " Heart of the Weed " John Addington Symonds The King's Inns, Dublin Mr Thomas Wright I call on Swin- burne and Wafls-Dunton The Pines, Putney Hill Mr Alfred Noyes. LOOKING back at my life I appear in 1886 to have had more time at my command than I have ever had since. I had purchased early in 1879, or thereabouts, John Camden Hotten's edition of a selection from Walt Whitman, with a Preface by Mr W. M. Rossetti. In some way, possibly by lending it, I lost this book, and, on trying to get another copy, I found it was out of print. I at once wrote to Messrs Chatto and Windus and communicated with Mr Rossetti, with the gratifying result that a new and handsome edition in buckram was issued, the pub- lishers, in acknowledgment of my suggestion, sending me a copy. Mr Rossetti was the soul of courtesy and wrote 94 Algernon Charles Swinburne me several kindly letters on the subject, in his beautiful handwriting, expressing his old admiration for the author of " Leaves of Grass." I had heard that Walt Whitman was very ill and in lack of money, and I wrote to him to Mickle Street, Camden, New Jersey, suggesting the raising of a subscription in Ireland. He replied: " DEAR FRIEND, I shall gladly accept anything which you and my Irish friends care to give. Take leisure and time about it, and let it be large or small, or nought at all, if Destiny so decide. (Professor Edward Dowden must not be approached, as he has already been most generous.) I was out for two hours to-day in the sunny mid-day hours, and enjoyed them much, WALT WHITMAN." I wrote to many of my friends on the subject, but got no response. This disheartened me, and in the end I had to content myself with sending the poet 2, and telling him I would make the sum an annual subscription. To this he would not consent, and sent me for the money his two volumes, " Leaves of Grass " and ' Two Rivulets," each copy being signed. Until his death I sent the 2, and at last, having many copies of his books, I sold the auto- graphed volumes to the National Library of Ireland, on the shelves of which they now repose under the guardianship of that true lover of books, Mr Thomas W. Lyster, M.A., the Librarian, whose name is familiar to all students of German literature in con- nection with his admirable translation of Duntzer's 95 In Castle and Court House " Life of Goethe." I also sold to the then Provost of T.C.D., Dr Jellett, copies of " Leaves of Grass " and " Specimen Days." When I wrote to Swinburne about the reprint of " Under the Microscope," I ventured to ask him if his opinion of Whitman was as high as when he addressed the American poet in " Songs before Sun- rise " Send but a song oversea for us, Heart of their hearts who are free. Heart of their singer to be for us More than our singing can be; Ours in the tempest at error, With no light but the twilight of terror; Send us a song oversea! Sweet-smelling of pine leaves and grasses, And blown as a tree through and through With the winds of the keen mountain passes, And tender as sun-smitten dew; Sharp-tongued as the winter that shakes The wastes of your limitless lakes; Wide-eyed as the sea-line's blue. Swinburne replied that he still genuinely admired Walt Whitman's best earlier work, but that his indis- criminate admirers had made him " sick of the man's very name," and, he added, " I doubt whether pos- terity will have patience to pick out his plums from such a mass of indigestible dough." In my " first fine careless rapture " I had com* municated to Whitman the fact that Swinburne con- templated reprinting " Under the Microscope," in which much praise had been bestowed on Walt, who was compared to William Blake, and whose work- 96 Algernon Charles Swinburne manship was accepted without demur. Walt Whitman wrote me asking me to send him on the article when it appeared, and enclosed in his letter a card in black and silver admitting the bearer to his Lecture on the Death of Abraham Lincoln. When the article appeared in the " Fortnightly," entitled " Whitmania," I saw at once that I must not grieve the " good gray poet " by sending it to him, especially as I was the innocent cause of its having been written, but he insisted, and Mr Horace Traubel tells us that Whitman on reading it con- tented himself by asking those present, if Swinburne were " not the damnedest simulacrum," and there, so far as Walt was concerned, the matter ended. Not so in England, where John Addington Symonds rushed into print in defence of Whitman, noting especially the fact that in the verses quoted from " Songs before Sunrise," Walt Whitman is designated a " Singer." This he undoubtedly was, as well as being one of the most ardent among liberators of the human spirit from the shackles of conventionality. Addington Symonds did not clinch his argument by referring to the footnote on page 21 of " Essays and Studies," in which, while expatiating on Victor Hugo's " L'Annee Terrible," Swinburne designates Whitman " The greatest of American voices," and in concluding calls him " The first poet of American democracy." Surely higher praise than this no man could ask for or expect! In the year referred to appeared a little volume 97 G In Castle and Court House of poems entitled " The Heart of the Weed," with no author's name, but to explain the title, a quotation from James Russell Lowell " to win the secret of the weed's plain heart." This little book, the contents of which are far above the average output of poetry, was written by the wife of my friend Thomas Ser- geant Perry. Mrs Perry later did more justice to her muse in her perfect translations from the Greek Anthology, which were issued under the title of " From the Garden of Hellas." One of the poems in " The Heart of the Weed " was " On Swinburne's ' Poems to a Child,' " a sonnet which I forwarded to Swinburne, but which he did not acknowledge. I learned later that his letter to me was insufficiently addressed, and was returned to him. I give the sonnet here by kind permission of the authoress, Lilian Cabot Perry You sing of passion, freedom, of the sea, All mighty themes to touch the hearts of men, Yet scarce are past the fire and whirlwind, when We hear a still, small voice, and lovingly You lull the babe upon its mother's knee, Songs mingling with its dreams. Her bosom then Thrills to the echo of each note again That sings all childhood's joy and mystery. Small flower-like faces look out from your rhyme, And there among them smile my very own; Sweet children's voices from your measures ring Like shaken silver bells in liquid chime I hear my darlings', yet not theirs alone Since for all childhood through all time you sing. When I was a student in Dublin I spent the greater part of my time reading in the delightful 98 Photo, Elliott and Fry.} ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE. Algernon Charles Swinburne library of King's Inns, Henrietta Street, where, in a quiet recess, partitioned off from the rest of the room, furnished with " storied windows richly dight : ' shedding upon me and my book at sunset all the colours which Keats declared were thrown by the full moon upon the kneeling heroine of " St Agnes' Eve," I could scarcely realise that I was buried in " the dusty purlieus of the law." Consulting the Library Catalogue one afternoon, I discovered that the Benchers took as little interest in Swinburne as one Gamaliel is reported to have cared for the study of Sociology. I hastened to the genial librarian, my old friend James Mclvor, and laid the matter before him, and having by his advice filled the necessary space in the Suggestion Book, a complete edition of Swinburne's, works was ordered forthwith, and now adorns the shelves of the Library. Living, as I did, far from London, I had not the opportunity to see Swinburne, which I might have had, had I been resident in London. From time to time I received postcards or letters from him, one of the former I find states in reply to an enquiry regarding a sentence in " A Study of Shakespeare " that " the greatest living humorist in 1 880 " was, in the writer's opinion Thomas Carlyle, and on another postcard I am referred to the " Agricola " of Tacitus for the allusion made in the concluding stanza of the memorial verses on the death of John William Inchbold in the third series of " Poems and Ballads." In 1902 I left Ireland and came to London, en 99 In Castle and Court House route for Western Africa. I did not get further than London, for reasons which will be found in a later chapter. In August, 1903, I contributed an article on Mr Swinburne's early dramas and poems to " The Gentleman's Magazine," a copy of which I left with my card at " The Pines," Putney Hill, a delightfully situated residence which has been fully described in his graphic manner by Mr James Douglas of The Star newspaper, in his fine volume on the life-work of our greatest living critic (and as Swinburne him- self declared, possibly the greatest of all time), Mr Theodore Watts-Dunton. Both Swinburne and Watts-Dunton happened, as I learnt afterwards to be away at the time, I believe at Lancing. I called again, a little later, and found that the two poets were still away from home, and had to content my- self by taking Swinburne's favourite walk up Putney Hill to Wimbledon, a walk described by Mr Watts- Dunton in the new edition, published with an illustration, of the little volume of " Selections from Poems of Swinburne." A little later when I edited the poems of Thomas Lovell Beddoes for the excellent " Muses' Library " series of Messrs Routledge, I sent Swinburne and Mr Watts-Dunton copies of the little book, receiving gracious acknowledgments from both, and Mr Thomas Wright to whom we are indebted for lives of Pater, Edward FitzGerald, Burnaby and Sir Richard Burton, told me that calling at " The Pines " about this time, his hosts mentioned my name, and expressed some interest in my work. 100 Algernon Charles Swinburne After sending a copy of the complete poetical works of George Darley in the same Library, the pleasurable task of editing which had been under- taken by me at the suggestion of Professor Dowden, I received from both Swinburne and Watts-Dunton (as well as from other recognised leaders in litera- ture), letters full of generous praise, which gratified me greatly, coupled as they were with an invitation to call as soon as convenient, and suggesting the following Sunday afternoon. Luckily I was able to avail myself of the kindness thus extended, and four o'clock on a beautiful afternoon in May found me at " The Pines." I was shown into a room richly furnished with Chinese carved cabinets and rare old furniture, the walls being covered with oil paintings, some of them evidently the work of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Through the window could be seen a garden of larger dimensions than one is accustomed to in London, where every foot of ground is precious, having in the centre of a grassy mound a classical draped female figure in either stone or stucco. This statue, I learned later, had been in D. G. Rossetti's garden. Mr Watts-Dunton was the first to greet me, and a little later Mr Swinburne glided in. Both poets shook hands, Mr Watts-Dunton with vigour, but Swinburne's hand lay in mine with the pressure of a butterfly. The thought that flashed through me that second was, that the hand I held had once lain in that of Walter Savage Landor, a writer who was, JOI In Castle and Court House indeed " In holiest age our mightiest mind," and whose great qualities as poet and prose writer have been magnificently celebrated by Swinburne in poems written in English, Latin, and Greek. Mr Watts-Dunton, on the contrary, holds that Landor in striving to realise the characters of other men and to utter their thoughts, as he did in " The Imaginary Conversations," neglected to utter his own, and thereby swamped his own originality with a much poorer substitute, a fact to be deplored. " Landor," said Mr Watts-Dunton, " boasted that he would sup late, but that the guests would be few and select, I am afraid that Landor will never sup at all." As I am not one of those who jot down other men's utterances in order to make " copy " of them, I fear there is little I can record here of our con- versation. I noted that Swinburne's eyes kindled when I mentioned the works of Robert Landor, whose " Impious Feast " and " Faith's Fraud " and " The Ferryman " I possess in copies which at one time belonged to Anthony Trollope. Swinburne praised another play by Robert Landor, ' The Earl of Brecon," a drama in which we see (in the words of Sir Henry Taylor) " persons impassioned, not passions personified." Thinking Swinburne would be interested I presented him with a copy of " Under the Microscope," in the American edition published by Thomas B. Mosher, of Portland, Maine. Although he had gained nothing from a pecuniary 102 Algernon Charles Swinburne point of view, from this edition, he was pleased with the format of the book which is beautifully turned out. Since that memorable evening in May, I have had the honour and pleasure of dining many times at " The Pines " with both poets, and have partaken of afternoon tea on Sundays. Owing to Swinburne's deafness, not a little of what I said had to be com- municated through Mr Watts-Dunton, who also took a kindly interest in any subject which I broached, particularly in a volume of selections from living poets which I contemplated compiling, and to which both my hosts readily promised to contribute, Mr Watts-Dunton telling me I would get them all save George Meredith, which proved to be the case, Mr Meredith writing me on his last birthday thanking me for copies of Hartley Coleridge, Beddoes, and Darley which I had edited, but firmly stating that he would not allow me to include any of his poems in the projected volume. Mr Watts-Dunton was interested in the fact that I admired the writings of Ebenezer Jones, the author of " Studies in Sensation and Event," on whom he contributed three letters to The Athen