We lost the motion for a parliamentary investigation of the Maamtrasna affair. Tim had prepared a brilliant case against the trial with enough testimony from Tom Casey and Michael Casey (one of those who had been in jail and confessed to being outside during the crime) and from various people in the valley to destroy the credibility of both the witness and the approvers. Many of the Liberals, with whom the Irish Party is allied, agreed privately with Tim’s argument. The Crown had made a mess of the trial. It would be useful if somehow a new trail could be ordered. However, Parliament had no choice but to stand behind Earl Spencer. Otherwise they would seem to have repudiated the legitimacy of the rule in Dublin Castle. The issue for them was not the injustice of the Maamtrasna trial. It was the survival of Britain’s right to rule Ireland. Even the Liberals had to support that. Gladstone, the Prime Minister and a staunch supporter of Home Rule in Ireland, would dearly love to find a way out that would placate everyone. Yet, he sees himself bound to stand by Lord Spencer. We all understand that. Even if you want
Ireland to have its own parliament again, you cannot turn your back on six centuries of English imperialism.We had a grand time in the debate, however, because we had nothing to lose. Our arguments were unanswerable and the other side knew it. They had to content themselves with repeating the arguments of the Crown Counsels in the trial. Those arguments were now patently absurd. So we were free to shoot them down like wingless ducks lined up for game hunters. We made fools out of them. They knew we were making fools out of them. They had the votes but that was all they had.
A young Liberal M.P. from Manchester remarked to me, early in the morning after we had shot at them like Lord Nelson had shot at the French at Trafalgar, “You lads are having a grand time of it, aren’t you?”
“I’m an American, sir. I’m not enjoying this at all. If it’s a grand time, it’s also a waste of time.”
He sighed.
“The sooner we have Home Rule the better. Parliament will be much duller with all those witty fellows back in Dublin where they belong, but we’ll be able to get some sleep at night … . Why are you involved? You’re more than just a reporter, aren’t you?”
“I was there,” I said simply.
“At Maamtrasna.”
“The day after the murders.”
“Oh … You knew this man Myles Joyce? Good fellow, was he?”
“A royal leader.”
“Yes, so I gathered. Another martyr for Ireland, eh?”
“Someday it will all come back to haunt this country, sir.”
“I don’t doubt it. I don’t doubt it at all.”
We never had a hope of winning it. We knew we never had a hope of winning it. Yet we fought like tigers. We
had a grand drinking party the final night as though we had won a great victory. The votes were 219 against our motion, 48 in favor. An Irish victory!
Sir Randolph Churchill voted with us. There are rumors that he and Parnell will connive to bring down the Gladstone Government and thus drive Lord Spencer from Ireland. The Tories, however, will certainly never support Home Rule. I do not believe that Gladstone will ever win it either. England is not ready to let Ireland go, not in a halfway measure. Parnell, the leader of the Irish Party, is a Protestant but as fervent an Irish Nationalist as I have ever met. Some call him the uncrowned King of Ireland. Perhaps. I find it hard to like him, however.
So what will happen? If I had to guess, I’d say that within the next half century, the people of Ireland will have to take their freedom from England. The Land League tactics have stirred up the ordinary people who merely want their own land. Some day a real Irish leader, a better educated and perhaps more ruthless version of Myles Joyce, will lead Ireland to its freedom. Violently.
Why do I say that? Because I believe that the English will continue to make the same stupid mistakes they made in the Maamtrasna affair. As the Irish Catholics get more education and make a little more money, the British will make one final mistake that will be the last straw. They do not see the growing power of the Catholics.
They could avoid the total loss of Ireland by granting the meager freedom of Home Rule. Not to do that is the biggest mistake of all.
When it comes to Ireland, the English are dumb.
And blind.
Those will be the themes of the dispatch I will write after a couple of hours sleep.
Then I will return to Galway to claim my bride. My desire for her is unbearable. So too is my fear.
I ask myself whether perhaps it is cruel to fatten her up for the feast as I am doing. Then I tell myself I only want her to be healthy as she prepares for marriage and our trip to America.
Home.