The protest had, of course, nothing but a moral value, minimised as much as possible by a slashing leading article in the Times, followed by a double dose of "Parnellism and Crime." But, in the September of that year, Mr. Labouchere, in company with four other members of Parliament (Mr. T. E. Ellis, Mr. Brunner, Mr. Dillon, and Mr. John O'Connor), went over to Ireland, in order to address the historic meeting at Michelstown.
Everybody knows the outline of what occurred—how the police, escorting a Government reporter, tried to force a passage through a hostile crowd to the speaker's platform, and how they were eventually driven back into their barracks, through the windows of which they fired at random, killing three men and mortally wounding two others. The meeting occurred on September 9, and on the 12th the matter was discussed during the debate in the House of Commons. Mr. Balfour pronounced instant and peremptory judgment, although his information on the subject must have been obtained with incredible rapidity.[4] He told the House that he was of opinion, "looking at the matter in the most impartial spirit, that the police were in no way to blame, and that no responsibility rested upon any one except upon those who convened the meeting under circumstances which they knew would lead to excitement and might lead to outrage."[5] Mr. Labouchere, following Sir William Harcourt and Mr. Balfour, made a characteristic speech, in the course of which he gave an inimitable account of what actually did happen at Michelstown.
"Now, sir," he said, "I was there. I was in a position which enabled me to see very clearly what took place. I am not a novice in these matters. I have been in a great many ententes on the continent. I have been a reporter in some cases, and I have not only been in a position to see, but I have also been in the habit of chronicling what I did see.... We went down, and the train arrived at Fermoy. This is about fifteen miles from Michelstown, and when we were within a mile of the latter place, we were met by a procession with flags and trumpets, and a certain crowd accompanying it.... We entered the town with this procession, and pulled up in the market-place. Michelstown is a very small provincial town with very wide streets and few of them. In the midst of the town there is this marketplace, which is perhaps as large as Trafalgar Square. The market-place slopes, and at the top, is the main street of the village, and—I ask the House to remember this—there are two police barracks. One is the permanent police station ... and the other a temporary police station, used by the police on this occasion, and faces the market-place. When we arrived there we got into a brake, which formed one part of the procession. This brake was mainly tenanted by priests, the Mayors of Cork and Clonmel, and a few other gentlemen. Mr. M'Carthy, a parish priest of the neighbourhood, was appointed chairman, and the crowd naturally gathered around. Mr. Dillon said to me: 'Let us cut this as short as possible: they will send the police and military into the town. They will attempt something, and something may occur if we go on long. I suggest we say a few words and ask the crowd to disperse.' I at once assented. Dillon then got up on the front side of the brake to say a few words, and at that time, or perhaps a few minutes before, I saw a body of police drawn up in a line in the lower part of the market-place. They had a reporter with them, and they pushed their way to within a short distance of the platform.... They could get no further. The people were so tightly packed. I will give an instance of this. When we got there we got out of our carriage, and we were all going on to the brake, which was, I suppose, five yards away. I was delayed a moment, and I was delayed at least two moments trying to get through these five yards, the people being so crowded that it was almost impossible to push through them. How then was it possible for the police, three abreast, without great violence, to push their way through such a dense mass as this? Our brake was at the top of the market-place, the people were all in front. Why on earth did not the reporter go to the outside of the meeting, and down the other side? He could easily have got in that way, and we should have been glad to welcome him there. But the police deliberately tried to force their way right in front where the people were wedged in as much as possible. I then saw these dozen policemen, with the reporter in their midst, stop. I supposed then they were satisfied and saw they could get no further. Dillon made one or two observations, and then the police fell back, and I thought perhaps they were going round. Let me observe we did not see the Resident Magistrate at all. If the Resident Magistrate had shown himself, and said he wanted the reporter to pass, one would have let him pass. The difficulty was that the reporter did not come alone, but with this body of police. Dillon went on speaking, and the horsemen—not this wonderful regiment I see mentioned in the Times, but some twenty horsemen—closed round outside the meeting in order to hear. Suddenly, after the advance guard had fallen back, and joined the other police, they (the police) all rushed forward. I am told they came to where these horsemen were, and one of the policemen drew his sword, and wounded one of the horses. I believe Mr. Brunner saw this done. Immediately there was a scrimmage.... The police commenced and continued it. The next thing that happened was that the police ran away. Captain Seagrove may have been amongst them, but it appears he deserted them on this occasion, and went to a neighbouring inn on the right of the market-place.... The police ran into the barracks.... Brunner and Ellis got on the brake, and joined the Mayor of Cork in urging the people to clear the streets for fear of further bloodshed, and I remained on the brake, because I was anxious to see what would take place." He continued his speech, urging with great ability the futility of pursuing in Ireland such tactics, which amounted to nothing in the world but the forcing upon a weaker country the tyranny of a stronger. "The Chief Secretary tells us," he continued, "that, by these means, he hopes to create a Union between England and Ireland. What sort of a Union does he expect to create? Does he expect to create a Union of hearts and affections? Does he hope to create an affection for the English Government? I am happy to see that in Ireland the people are making a wide distinction between the people of England and the Government of England. They know their troubles are only temporary, that a new alliance exists between the democracies of England and Ireland, and that the classes will not be able to hold their own against such an alliance. I hold that the right hon. gentleman (Mr. Balfour) is indirectly responsible for what has occurred at Michelstown, and that those who are directly responsible are R. M. Seagrove and Inspector Brownrigg. I accuse these men of gross and deliberate murder."[6]
After Mr. Labouchere sat down, there was really very little to be said on the other side. Lord Randolph Churchill, however, endeavoured to do his duty by his party, and commented thus on Labouchere's speech, craftily criticising its style and ignoring its substance: "And then, Sir, we had the statement of the member for Northampton, which seems to me to resemble in its nature certain newspapers which are now current, and, to some extent, popular in the metropolis, which convey their news to the public in paragraphs. The statement of the hon. gentleman did not seem to me to be altogether connected. It was really a series of paragraphs, which succeeded each other without much connection as far as I could make out. I put aside the statement of the hon. member for Northampton, because I have difficulty in regarding him as altogether serious in this matter."[7]
It is difficult to see why Lord Randolph Churchill did not regard Mr. Labouchere's statement on the subject as serious. Had he been commenting on Mr. Balfour's speech on the occasion, one might have understood a certain amount of scepticism as to the speaker's good faith.
In the following February Mr. Labouchere, in a speech on Mr. Parnell's amendment in answer to the Address from the Throne, referred again to Mr. Balfour's airy dismissal of any serious consideration of the Michelstown affray: "What the Chief Secretary had stated in the House about the matter was absolutely incorrect. He had always thought that the right hon. gentleman would be especially careful in matters of evidence, for, as a philosopher, he was his (Labouchere's) favourite philosopher. He had sat at the feet of that Gamaliel, he had read his Defence of Philosophic Doubt, until he had almost doubted of his own existence. Yet, when the right hon. gentleman became Irish Chief Secretary, he forgot all his philosophy. The reason was that there were exigencies required of an Irish Secretary that were not to be found in the calm fields of philosophy. It was a melancholy thing for a philosopher to be plunged by the exigencies of his position into matters like this—to have vile instruments to carry out his orders, and to believe them or rather to pretend to believe them...."[8]
The note of persiflage contained in all Labouchere's speeches on the Michelstown affair may have deceived his hearers as to the profoundness of his feelings of indignation, but his measured, well-considered utterances in Truth were for all who read them a sufficient guarantee of his good faith. Immediately after the affray, he wrote thus of the head of the constabulary force in Co. Cork: "I came across a person of the name of Brownrigg the other day. The ferocity, the insolence, the brutality of this man never were exceeded and rarely equalled by Cossack or Uhlan in a country occupied by Russian or German. I strongly recommend him for promotion. He is a man after the heart of our Tory despots, for he seemed to me to unite in his person every characteristic that goes to make up an official ruffian, armed with a little brief authority. On this man the responsibility of the Michelstown murders rests. He caused them, either deliberately, or from stupidity and brutality combined. If he has furnished Mr. Balfour with an account of what took place there, he adds to his other virtues the capacity of being one of the best liars that the world has ever produced, for the statement of Mr. Balfour in the House of Commons of the Michelstown affair, from 'official information,' is one long tissue of deliberate falsehoods."[9]
At the inquest which was held upon the victims, the jury returned a verdict of wilful murder against the chief police officer and five of his men. Truth pronounced as follows upon the inquest: "Immediately after the Michelstown meeting I had occasion to call attention to the conduct of Brownrigg, the chief of the constabulary there. This ruffian has given evidence, and his evidence is one long tissue of lies, so impudent that Mr. Irwin, the District Police Inspector, has borne testimony against him. When Mr. Irwin stated what the nature of his evidence must be, Brownrigg, it would appear, called his men together and tried to drill them into perjury, in order to obtain confirmation of his mendacity. I am not surprised at anything which this man may do, for I found him vain, irascible, insolent, and muddleheaded beyond all conception."
Mr. Labouchere's article, called "The Michelstown Murders, "giving in more detail than he had been able to do in the House, the real facts of the affray, is a masterpiece of judicial summing up. It is too long to quote in full, but the following extract will show how close was his reasoning, and how unanswerable his arguments:
Three men were killed, and two were wounded. Two of the men killed received each two bullets. This proves two things: 1. That the police deliberately aimed. 2. That there could not have been a crowd. Never yet was a crowd fired into, and, of the three men killed by the discharge, two each be struck twice. Any one can see that this is mathematically so improbable as to be impossible.
Station No. 1 is a house with an iron door, and iron shutters to the windows. Even if it had been attacked, an unarmed crowd could not have got into it; all the more as there were military within call ready to act, and Captain Seagrove was not in the station, and consequently could have at once called up the soldiers. It is admitted that there are 160 panes of glass in the windows, and that only six of these panes were broken by stones. The police therefore were not in danger of their lives, nor in any danger.[10]
The verdict of the inquest was afterwards quashed (Feb. 10, 1888) in the Queen's Bench on the ground that the coroner had perpetrated certain irregularities of form, and, as Lord Morley remarks, "the slaughter of the three men was finally left just as if it had been the slaughter of three dogs." No other incident of Irish administration stirred deeper feelings of disgust in Ireland, or of misgiving and indignation in England.[11] Meanwhile the Times articles "Parnellism and Crime" seemed to have been forgotten, except by Mr. Labouchere, who had in Truth chaffingly suggested to the Times the appointment of Mr. Brownrigg to write a few instalments of the sensational serial pamphlet. The poison, however, had worked, and goodwill towards Ireland had nearly died in English breasts. Parnell had declared in the House of Commons on the day of its publication that the facsimile letter was a clumsy fabrication. "Politics are come to a pretty pass," he said, "in this country when a leader of a party of eighty-six members has to stand up at ten minutes past one in the House of Commons in order to defend himself from an anonymous fabrication such as that which is contained in the Times of this morning."[12]
Nobody except his Radical friends believed him, and the affair would probably have sunk into oblivion if a former member of the party, a Mr. F. H. O'Donnell, had not, after mature reflection, conceived that he had been libelled in the famous articles. In the summer of 1888 he prosecuted the Times for damages, and lost his case, for, as a matter of fact, Mr. O'Donnell had not been mentioned in the articles, and it almost appeared that something like a guilty conscience had prompted him to bring the action. But the prosecuting counsel's method of presenting the case not only compelled Sir Richard Webster to reproduce and exhaustively comment upon the "Parnellism and Crime" articles, but furnished him with the opportunity of startling London and the world with a long series of other letters, some of them more damning even than the facsimile letter, five purporting to be from Pat. Egan, the former treasurer of the Land League, addressed to various agitators and felons including James Carey, the informer, and three supposed to be from Parnell. It is only necessary to this narrative to quote one which was read out on July 4, 1888, by the Attorney-General in his address to the jury. It ran as follows:
9/1/82.
DEAR E.,—What are these fellows waiting for? This inaction is inexcusable, our best men are in prison and nothing is being done. Let there be an end of this hesitancy. Prompt action is called for. You undertook to make it hot for old Forster and Co. Let us have some evidence of your power to do so. My health is good, thanks.—Yours very truly,
CHAS. S. PARNELL.
"Dear E." meant Patrick Egan. In January, four months before the Phœnix Park murders, Mr. Parnell was in Kilmainham Prison. Well might the Attorney-General say, as he solemnly read out the letter in Court: "If it was signed by Mr. Parnell, I need not comment upon it." He also made the announcement that the "facsimile letter," as the first one published in the Times has always been called, as well as the ones he had produced in Court that day, had been for some time in the possession of the Times. Presumably the Times had kept them in the hopes that the Irish leaders would sooner or later bring an action for libel against the paper, when they would triumphantly have produced the letters and so confounded the whole party. As it turned out, their production at that moment rather resembled the killing of a fly with a sledge-hammer, for Mr. O'Donnell's case was one of such palpable insignificance. An important reason may be mentioned here, for explaining what may seem to be an extraordinary lack of initiative on Mr. Parnell's part. He had not been willing to prosecute the Times because he was firmly convinced that Captain O'Shea had been concerned in the production of the letters, and, to add to his unwillingness, his friends in England had pointed out to him the immense improbability of a jury of twelve Middlesex men, being, at that moment, sufficiently without racial prejudice, to pronounce a verdict in his favour. After the Attorney-General's declaration that the Times would retract nothing, and the implied challenge in his admission that, if false, no grosser libels were ever written, Mr. Parnell took action. On the day of the delivery of the verdict in the case of O'Donnell v. Walter, he formally denied the authenticity of the letters, and asked for a Select Committee of the House to enquire into the matter. His request was refused, but finally it was suggested from the Treasury Bench that the enquiry should be entrusted to a Commission of Judges appointed by Act of Parliament. A Bill embodying this suggestion was read for the second time on July 24, and the names of the Commissioners were added in the Committee stage. Sir James Hannen was chosen as President of the Commission, and with him were associated Sir Charles Day, an Orangeman, and Sir Archibald Levin Smith. Mr. H. Cunynghame, a junior barrister (now Sir Henry Cunynghame), was appointed Secretary to the Commission.[13]
Mr. Labouchere had, of course, scented in the whole business a chapter of chronigues scandaleuses after his own heart. He set to work to study it at once con amore, and very soon came to the conclusion that all the letters had been forged by one Richard Pigott, the story of whose chequered career was soon to become the property of a marvelling public. "Immediately on the Egan letters being produced in the O'Donnell v. Walter case," he writes in his own account of the affair, "Mr. Egan telegraphed to me that he was sending over Carey's letters to him. (Mr. Egan was then in America.) These letters followed. They referred to a municipal election, and, being written at the same time as a forged letter of Mr. Egan to Carey, they proved conclusively that the latter could not be genuine. Whilst the discussion was taking place in Parliament about the Royal Commission, Mr. Egan again telegraphed that he had been comparing the letters ascribed to him in the O'Donnell trial with the drafts of certain letters which he had written to Pigott about the purchase of the Irishman,[14] and the letters ascribed to Mr. Parnell, with the copies of two letters written by that gentleman to Pigott in relation to the sale, which copies were in his (Egan's) possession. He said that he had found such a similarity of phrase in the genuine letters and in the forged letters that he was certain that the latter were fabricated from the former. An emissary soon after came over with the Egan drafts and with Pigott's letters (one of which contained that blessed word 'hesitancy'), to which the former were replies, and with the copies of Mr. Parnell's letters. One of the drafts had been published previously as a part of a correspondence between Egan and Pigott in the Freeman's Journal, and the copies of Mr. Parnell's letters were in the handwriting of Mr. Campbell.[15] Now it was utterly impossible that the similarities, amounting in one case to three consecutive lines, could be a mere chance. It was, therefore, a mathematical certainty that Pigott had forged the letters, while it was obvious that Mr. Egan's drafts were genuine, for they could have been at once disproved, if incorrect, by Pigott producing, at the investigation, the original of them, which, it was to be presumed, he had in his possession. I showed the Carey letters to Mr. Parnell alone, and the Egan correspondence with Pigott to Sir Charles Russell and Mr. Parnell alone, and then locked them up. On Mr. George Lewis being retained, I handed them over to him, and he proceeded to get up Pigott's 'record,' only a portion of which came before the Court, but a portion amply sufficient to show that he had lived for years on blackmailing, forgery, and treachery."[16]
Mr. Labouchere then went off to Germany for his summer holiday, and, while abroad, a chance conversation revealed to him that the incriminating letters had been already shown by Mr. Houston, the Secretary of the Loyal and Patriotic Association, to Lord Hartington. Houston was therefore immediately subpœnaed, and it later transpired that he had offered them to the Pall Matt Gazette before he sold them to the Times. "Two facts were consequently certain," said Mr. Labouchere. "Houston had sold the letters, and Pigott had forged them. Although we were ourselves certain of the latter fact, it was possible that, as we had only the drafts of the Egan letters, it might be said (as indeed it was said, by Pigott in the witness-box) that Egan had written his drafts from the Times letters, instead of the Times letters having been fabricated from the Egan letters.
"About the middle of October," continued Mr. Labouchere, "Mr. Egan sent over here a trusty emissary, with orders to report to me, and to see whether it would not be possible to buy of Pigott the original of the Egan drafts, for he knew his man, and believed (rightly) that he would have no objection to sell anything that he possessed for a consideration. I sent this emissary to Kingstown, where Pigott was residing. The emissary told him that Egan wanted these originals. Pigott declined to deal with the emissary, and said that he must be put in communication with some one whom he could trust. On this I told the emissary that Pigott could see me at my house on a certain evening. I went down to the Commission which was sitting on that day, and informed Mr. Parnell and Mr. Lewis of what had been arranged. It was agreed that they should both be present."
Mr. Labouchere's letter to Pigott making the appointment for this interview has, with its hint to come "by the underground," been so often referred to that it is worth while giving it here in full:
24 GROSVENOR GARDENS, S.W., Oct. 25, 1888.
DEAR SIR,—-I shall be here at 10 o'clock to-morrow morning, and shall be happy to see you for a confidential conversation, which, as you say, can do no harm, if it does no good. I will return you your letter when you come. I think this house would be the best place, for it certainly is not watched, and it would be as easy to throw off any one coming here as going elsewhere. Your best plan would be, I should think, to take the underground, and get out at Victoria Station. The house is close by.—Yours faithfully,
H. LABOUCHERE.
It may be mentioned in parenthesis that Mr. Labouchere had misdated his letter. It was really written, as was proved by the postmark on the envelope, on October 24, and the interview took place on that evening at 10 o'clock, as he changed the time of the appointment by telegram.
Both Mr. Labouchere and Pigott were very well aware that 24 Grosvenor Gardens, if not being watched at the moment when the above letter was penned, would be so as soon as Pigott was inside it, for the unhappy forger was dogged in all his footsteps by the Times agents. Mr. Labouchere had, however, nothing to fear, and poor Pigott had very little to lose, and a vague expectation of something to gain. The upshot of the interview was that, in the presence of Mr. Parnell and Mr. Lewis, Pigott confessed that he had forged the letters and suggested that he would give a full confession, and write to the Attorney-General and to the Times that he was the forger, if Mr. Lewis would withdraw his subpœna and let him go to Australia. But it was not Pigott's confession that Mr. Lewis and Mr. Labouchere wanted. It was the originals of the drafts of the Egan letters. Mr. Parnell and Mr. Labouchere withdrew to another room, leaving Mr. Lewis to do what he could with the slippery Richard. "Soon," to continue the narrative in Mr. Labouchere's own words, "Mr. Lewis came into the dining-room, and said to me, 'Pigott wants to come to me to-morrow and give me a full statement. He is going away and wants to speak to you'; adding, 'Mind, whatever you do, don't give him any money; if you do he will bolt.' I left Mr. Lewis with Mr. Parnell, and went back to Pigott.
"That worthy at once came to business, and said that the Times had promised him £5000 to go into the box, and asked what I would give for him not to do so. I replied that I would give nothing, but that Egan's emissary had already told him that, acting for Egan, I wanted the original of the Egan drafts, as these would prove the forgery up to the hilt, and that if he had them and they were satisfactory, I would pay for them. He asked whether I would give £5000 for them. When I declined, he asked whether I would give £1000. I said it would be more like one thousand than five, but that I must first see the documents. I then asked whether the signature of the Parnell letters, which is at the top of a page, was forged, or whether it was an autograph which had fallen into his hands, and he had written the letter on the other side. 'Why do you want to know this?' he asked. 'Mere curiosity,' I replied. On which he said that it was forged. He then left."
Nothing definite as to the original Egan letters was obtained by Mr. Lewis when he called the next day, and neither did he obtain the promised statement. The interview with Messrs. Labouchere, Lewis, and Parnell at Grosvenor Gardens, and the subsequent private one with Mr. Lewis, were reported to the Times agents by Pigott with a fanciful account of what took place at each. He shortly afterwards returned to Ireland, and Mr. Labouchere continued his efforts to procure all possible evidence on behalf of his Irish friends. He was considerably helped by his acquaintances in America, who were able to furnish him with invaluable details and scraps of knowledge about the various witnesses for the Times, which came in appositely more than once in Sir Charles Russell's masterly cross-examinations. It is interesting to notice, in perusing many of the curious letters received by Mr. Labouchere at this period from Irish patriots living beyond the Atlantic (what Mr. Labouchere had so often heard from the lips of Mr. Parnell himself),[17] how far from popular Parnell was with most of them. He was too meek and mild for them, and they could not understand his patience under injury and abuse. In one of these letters occurs the following anecdote about the intrepid Irish leader: "I want to tell you," says the writer, "something about Parnell in 1883—ask him: two men called on him when he was in Cork and said (recollect the two were extremists), 'Mr. Parnell, unless you give us £1000 for extreme measures we will shoot you before we leave Cork.' Parnell simply replied, 'Well, I certainly have a choice, for which I am obliged—to be shot now or to be hung afterwards. I prefer the former. You will never get £1000 from me for the purpose you mention.' One and all of these patriots, however, at this crisis of Parnell's career were determined to uphold him, and to allow whatever grievances they had against him to stand over until after his political character had been vindicated in the eyes of the hated English.
Mr. Labouchere remained in communication with Pigott throughout the winter. Pigott dangled before him the possibility of further important communications, and on November 29 Mr. Labouchere wrote to him as follows:
As I understand the position it is this—Mr. Lewis holds that we can prove our case against the Times in regard to the letters conclusively, and this, you will remember, Mr. Parnell told you. We prove it in a certain way. You say that you wish to be kept out of it, and not be called as a witness. If such a course can strengthen our case, and prove it still more conclusively, I do not see why it should not be adopted, for the object is to prove irrespective of individuals. Evidently, some one must know how you propose to do what you want, and what you say you can do. If you like to confide in me, I will tell you what I think, and, if I agree with you, it will be then time for you either to assent or dissent to Mr. Parnell or Mr. Lewis being informed. But you are a practical man—so am I. Mere assertion, neither you nor I attach much importance to, without documentary or some other clear confirmation.
Pigott answered as follows:
ANDERTON'S HOTEL,
FLEET STREET, E.C., Dec. 4, 1888.
DEAR SIR,—I have arrived here, and write a line to ask you to make an appointment, as I know that your house is watched—as is also Mr. Lewis's Office—and as I am "shadowed" wherever I go outside a certain limit, perhaps you could kindly arrange that we should meet somewhere else to-morrow afternoon or Thursday, or in fact any other day you choose.—Faithfuly yours, RD. PIGGOTT.
What occurred at the meeting which took place as the result of the above correspondence is best told in Mr. Labouchere's own words: "Pigott came about ten and stayed till one A.M. Again he explained that he had forged, and gave me a good many details about the way in which he had done it, telling me, amongst other things, that he had given Houston three names as the sources of the letters, two of which were efforts of his imagination, and the third a real person. He seemed rather proud of his skill, and by encouraging this weakness I got everything out of him. I asked him how Houston could have been so easily fooled, and whether he was an absolute idiot? He replied that he was clever up to a certain point, but thought himself twice as clever as he was, and that these sort of persons are easily trapped. In this I agreed with him, and he told me that Houston had told him that he wanted letters, because it was intended to publish a pamphlet, and that the letters were to be held in reserve to be sprung upon the Court if there was an action for libel, adding that such an action would be certain not to be brought. Again and again, with weary iteration, he came back to his plan to confess in writing, and then to go to Australia. I told him that he surely must be sharp enough to see to what accusations this would subject me, and how hurtful it would be to our case, which I assured him was of such strength that it would smash him, quite irrespective of anything he might say or do. 'Why, then, do you want documents?' he said. 'Because,' I replied, 'the issue is a political one. We have to deal with prejudiced Tories who have already compromised themselves by pinning themselves to the genuineness of the letters, and consequently our case cannot be too much strengthened. With such people you must put butter upon bacon.' 'What documents do you want?' he said. 'Egan's letters, the original signatures from which you traced those of Egan and Parnell, and a few letters forged in my presence,' I said. 'I have not got Egan's letters: I destroyed them. I have not got the signatures. I gave Houston the letter of Parnell from which I took his signature. I will, if you like, forge the letters in your presence. I will give you the names of the three men from whom I told Houston I got the letters, and I will give you the letters that Houston wrote to me,' he answered. I said that I would not give sixpence for these without the two items that I had mentioned, and he reiterated that he had not got them. 'Why,' I suddenly said to him,' did you write to Archbishop Walsh about the letters?' 'The Archbishop,' he replied, 'has not got my letters; he sent them all back; to reveal anything concerning them would be to violate the confidence between a priest and a penitent.' 'Well,' I finished by saying, 'think it over. I am going out of town. When I return, come and see me again, and in the meanwhile try and find the originals of Egan's letters. I will let you know when I come back.' He said that he would think it over, and, on wishing him good-night, I asked him what he contemplated doing? He said that he was in a terrible mess, but that he saw no other course open for him but to go into the box and swear that he had bought the letters, and that if they were forgeries he had been deceived. 'You will be a fool if you do,' I said, 'but that is your affair, not mine. If I were in your place I should tell the truth, and ask for the indemnity.' 'That is all very well,' he said, 'but on what am I to live?' And so we parted." Mr. Labouchere did not see Pigott again until he saw him in the witness-box more than two months later. Pigott returned to Ireland about the middle of December and the Commission adjourned until January 15. Patrick Egan had written to Mr. Labouchere on December 2 from Lincoln, Massachusetts saying: "I hope you will be able to squeeze the truth out of Pigott in the way you say, as I should dislike terribly to see him profit in any way by his villainy. I do not believe there is a single thing in the suspicion against O'Shea.... The fellow is incapable of playing the role of heavy villain. I am quite convinced that the forgery part of the scheme was the sole work of Pigott. You will perceive that all your injunctions with regard to secrecy have been observed on this side, but everything gets out from London and Dublin. Yesterday we had on one of our Lincoln evening papers a cable (probably a copy of a New York Herald cable) giving all particulars about the watch that is being kept on Pigott and the discovery that C. is doing detective work for the Times, that F. was mixed up with the forgeries and other matters."
It must be borne in mind that, when the Commission adjourned in the middle of December, the all-important question of the letters had not yet been touched upon. "The objects of the accusers," says Lord Morley, "was to show the complicity of the accused with crime by tracing crime to the League, and making every member of the League constructively liable for every act of which the League was constructively guilty. Witnesses were produced, in a series that seemed interminable, to tell the story of five-and-twenty outrages in Mayo, of as many in Cork, of forty-two in Galway, of sixty-five in Kerry, one after another, and all with immeasurable detail. Some of the witnesses spoke no English, and the English of others was hardly more intelligible than Erse. Long extracts were read out from four hundred and forty speeches. The counsel on one side produced a passage that made against the Speaker, and then the counsel on the other side found and read some qualifying passage that made as strongly for him. The three judges groaned. They had already, they said plaintively, ploughed through the speeches in the solitude of their own rooms. Could they not be taken as read? 'No,' said the prosecuting counsel, 'we are building up an argument, and it cannot be built up in a silent manner.' In truth it was designed for the public outside the court, and not a touch was spared that might deepen the odium. Week after week the ugly tale went on—a squalid ogre let loose among a population demoralised by ages of wicked neglect, misery, and oppression. One side strove to show that the ogre had been wantonly raised by the Land League for political objects of their own; the other, that it was the progeny of distress and wrong, that the League had rather controlled than' kindled its ferocity, and that crime and outrage were due to local animosities for which neither League nor parliamentary leaders were responsible."[18] The Nationalists were impatient for the real business to begin, for it was felt by every one that, if the letters were proved to be genuine, the case was practically won all round for the Times, whereas, if they proved to be forgeries, public opinion on the subject could have but one bias. Indeed, Mr. Chamberlain himself had said: "To lead the inquiry off into subsidiary and unimportant matters would be ... fatal to the reputation of the Times—fatal to its success." And again, "If the Times fails to maintain its principal charges, I do not think much attention will be attached to other charges. Any attempt, as it appears to all, on the part of the Times to put aside those principal charges or not to put them in the forefront will redound to their discredit."[19] The delay, however, gave this advantage to the Nationalist side—they had more time in which to accumulate confirmatory evidence against the forger, and the forger was given more time in which to further involve himself, in the net which his fowler had spread for him, by writing foolish letters and telling needless lies. Pigott had promised Mr. Labouchere to return to London whenever he sent for him. Parnell wrote to Mr. Labouchere during the Christmas vacation of the Commissioners:
HOUSE OF COMMONS, Jan. 14, 1889.
MY DEAR LABOUCHERE,—I am anxious to see you before your Irish friend returns to London. Kindly give me an appointment, and let it be if possible after four o'clock.—Yours sincerely,
CHAS. S. PARNELL.
He wrote again as follows on the 21st:
I do not think you need send for your Dublin friend this time, as the Times will probably do that for you, and you will hear when he is in London. Another forged letter of Egan's was produced in Court last week, and sworn to by Delaney, evidently one of the Pigott series. I am laid up with a cold, but hope to be out tomorrow, when I will try and call to see you in the afternoon.—Yours very truly,
CHAS. S. PARNELL.
The Irish friend was, of course, Pigott, and Delaney was a convict—a witness for the Times. He was one of the Phœnix Park criminals, and was described by the Daily News reporter, present in court, as of "over middle height, stoutish in build, reddish-yellow haired, and with features which were more of a Russian than an Irish cast. He wore a short jacket of check tweed, and a big white cravat about his neck." He had been brought up from Maryborough prison, where he was doing his life sentence. His brother was hanged for the Phœnix Park murders, and so would he have been himself if he had not confessed, and, in consequence, had his sentence changed from execution to penal servitude for life. He had sworn to the handwriting of Patrick Egan on one of the letters produced in court. "Are you an expert?" asked Sir Charles Russell carelessly. No, Mr. Delaney was not an expert, but he remembered the signature after so many years, and he identified it when he was shown it "yesterday evening" by the Times agent. He was able to identify it because Carey, seven or eight years ago, showed him three of Mr. Egan's letters.[20]
Pigott had been subpœnaed by the Times as a witness early in December. On January 24, Mr. Labouchere wrote to him saying: "I see that Sir R. Webster talks about soon getting to the letters. When are you likely to be over? If you wish it, I will send your expenses to come over." At the end of the month he sent Pigott £10. Labouchere's letter and the £10 note were confided at once by Pigott to Mr. Houston, who handed them over to Mr. Soames, and, of course, they were produced in court and a rather different interpretation put upon them to the one the recipient knew was warranted.
Pigott was not called into the witness-box, the ordeal which he so justly dreaded, until the fifty-fourth day of the Commission's sittings. He at once gave an account of the way he had obtained the first batch of incriminating letters. It read like a romance, as indeed, it was in every sense of the word—how Mr. Houston had begged him, if possible, to find some authentic documents to substantiate accusations against the Irish leaders, how he had set forth for Lausanne, all his expenses handsomely paid, and had met there an old friend who had told him about a letter written by Parnell which was in Paris, and might be obtained; how he had then proceeded to Paris and by a marvellous stroke of good luck had run up against an Irishman in the street who was able to give him more details about the Parnell letter, and other documents of a similar kind, which had been found in a black bag in a Paris lodging-house. He had not immediately bought the bag and its contents, because there were many difficulties in the way, but he had gone back to London and told Mr. Houston the whole story, and returned to Paris ready to clinch the bargain. But the Irish friend was not easy to bring to terms. He said Pigott must, before he could get possession of the letters, go to America and obtain the permission to buy them from the Fenians there. To America he accordingly went, and returned with a letter from John Breslin to the Irish friend authorising the sale of the Parnell letter (afterwards known as the "facsimile letter") and the rest of the papers. Houston came over to Paris and paid him £500 for the contents of the black bag, and gave him £105 for his own trouble. It must be remembered that all his travelling expenses had been paid, as well as £1 a day for hotels—not a bad remuneration for a needy man such as Pigott was, who, it turned out later, was making what living he could by the sale of indecent photographs and books to all who cared to buy them. Doubtless the black bag was useful to him in his book and picture business, which was why he did not sell it with its temporary contents to Mr. Houston. The said contents, as bought by Houston, were as follows: Five letters of Mr. Parnell's, six of Patrick Egan's, some scraps of paper, and the torn-out leaves of an old account-book. The black bag was supposed to have been left in Paris by an Irish patriot (Frank Byrne or James O'Kelly) and had been taken possession of by the Clan-na-Gael. Subsequently two other batches of letters were obtained by Pigott in Paris, and likewise sold to the Times.
The Attorney-General, in the course of his examination of Pigott, drew from him the following remarkable account of his visit to Mr. Labouchere's house on October 24:
The Attorney-General. Tell us, as nearly as you can, what passed between you, Mr. Labouchere, and Mr. Parnell, and if, at any part of it, Mr. Parnell was not present, just tell us and draw the distinction—what passed as nearly as you can: how did the conversation begin?
Pigott. I think, as well as I recollect, Mr. Parnell commenced the conversation, and what he said was to the effect that they held proofs in their hands that would convict me of the forgery of all the letters, and he asked me, with reference to my statement to the effect that I wished if possible to avoid giving evidence at all, how I proposed to do that. I explained that I had not been subpœnaed by the Times up to that date, that the only subpœna I received was the one Mr. Lewis had served me with, and it occurred to me then that probably, if I could induce Mr. Lewis to withdraw his subpœna, I might avoid in that way coming forward at all. Mr. Parnell was of opinion that that could not be done, that Mr. Lewis could not withdraw his subpœna, that I would be obliged to appear. Then, I think, Mr. Labouchere took up the running, and he was rather facetious.
The Attorney-General. What did he say, please?
Pigott. He made a proposition to me right out, that I should appear in the witness-box and swear that I had forged the letters, thereby ensuing—entitling myself to receive from the Commissioners a certificate of immunity from any proceedings, legal or criminal. He said that was his reading of the law, and Mr. Parnell agreed with him that such was the case, that it was an extremely simple matter; it was merely going into the box, taking an oath, and walking out free.
The Attorney-General. I want just to get this: did the suggestion that if you went into the witness-box, and said that you forged the letters, that you would get your certificate, come from Mr. Labouchere?
Pigott. Distinctly.
The Attorney-General. What else, please?
Pigott. He urged me, as a further inducement to do this, that I would become immensely popular in Ireland, the fact that I had swindled the Times would be sufficient of itself to secure me a seat in Parliament to begin with, and then, if at any time I wished to go to the United States, he would undertake that I should be received with a torchlight procession from all the organisations there. Of course, I could scarcely believe that he was serious, but still——[21]
Here almost uncontrolled merriment burst out all over the court, in which Mr. Labouchere himself joined more heartily than any one.
The President of the Court. I must say, whether this is true or not, it is not a fit subject for laughter.
But whether the President would or no, it was impossible to prevent constant ripples of laughter from breaking out all over the court while Pigott was narrating his version of the first meeting at Mr. Labouchere's house. Pigott told how Mr. Lewis had arrived on the scene, and had also denounced him as the forger of the letters—"Mr. Lewis assumed his severest manner," said Pigott. He continued his evidence after some further questions from the Attorney-General.
Pigott. Mr. Labouchere beckoned me outside the door into the hall, and he there said—I forgot to mention that in the course of conversation I stated that I had—I do not know exactly whether I said I had been promised £5000 by the Times or that I had demanded it.
The Attorney-General. One or the other?
Pigott. One or the other. So referring to that Mr. Labouchere said that they were prepared to pay me £1000—that he himself was prepared to pay me £1000, but, of course, I was not to mention anything about it to Mr. Parnell or to Mr. Lewis.
The President. One moment before you go further. "He beckoned me outside"—where was he then?
Pigott. That was at Labouchere's house.
The President. I know, but where was it?
Pigott. Outside into the hall.
The President. Was it a whole house or was it a flat?
Pigott. It is a whole house. He took me into the entrance hall, the room that we were in was the front room.
The President. A dining-room or library or what?
Pigott. A library.
The Attorney-General. Is that the end of the conversation that then took place?
Pigott. Up to that time, yes.
The Attorney-General. What did you say to Mr. Labouchere when he said he was prepared to pay you £1000?
Pigott. I said I thought it was a very handsome sum; I did not say whether I would take it or not. As well as I can recollect, however, I raised no objection. I took it that he understood me to agree to that sum. Then, on returning to the room, I said distinctly—very distinctly—that nothing under heaven would induce me to go into the witness-box and swear a lie—nothing would. Then Mr. Lewis explained to me the necessity for my going into the witness-box might be avoided by the course that he suggested: that is that I was to write to the Times to state that I believed the letters were forgeries, or that I had forged them myself, if I preferred it. At all events I was to acquaint the Manager of the Times with the fact that the letters were actual forgeries, and that thereupon the Times would naturally withdraw the letters, and the thing would drop, and of course Mr. Labouchere's offer would stand. Well, Mr. Lewis did not say that, but of course I understood it.
Pigott proceeded to give his account of his interview with Mr. Lewis on the following morning. He said that Mr. Lewis had taken notes of what he (Pigott) said, and he (Pigott) had told Mr. Lewis all he had told Mr. Soames with reference to the hunt for and discovery of the incriminating letters in Paris. Mr. Soames's evidence, given in court on February 15, of what Pigott had told him on this subject differed very considerably from what, according to Mr. Lewis's notes, he had told the latter. For instance, Mr. Pigott told Mr. Lewis on October 25 that he had sold the letters to Mr. Houston, never believing for a moment himself that they were genuine. In court, on February 21, Pigott denied the accuracy of Mr. Lewis's notes, made during his conversation with him at Anderton's Hotel on October 25.
All Pigott's correspondence with Mr. Lewis and Mr. Labouchere was then read out in court, with the replies of the two gentlemen to Mr. Pigott. The Attorney-General ended his examination as follows:
The Attorney-General. The only other matter I want to put to you is this: these gentlemen told you—Mr. Parnell and Mr. Labouchere—that they had copies of letters, which they had written to you?
Pigott. Yes.
The Attorney-General. From which it was alleged that you had copied these documents?
Pigott. Yes.
The Attorney-General. Did they produce any to you?
Pigott. No.
The Attorney-General. Did they at any time, either at Mr. Lewis's office or at Mr. Labouchere's, offer to show you any of them?
Pigott. No.
As the Attorney-General, rearranging his gown, was slowly resuming his seat, a loud murmur of conversation broke out over the court. It stopped suddenly. Scarcely was the Attorney-General seated when Sir Charles Russell stood bolt upright. He had a clean sheet of paper in his hand. There was such a silence in the court that even the fall of a pin would have been heard. Pigott's little day of peace was over. Poor fellow! He had done his best to keep his share of the business in the black shadows where such deeds are wont to skulk, but the gloom was about to be dispelled by the light of truth.
[1] Lord Eversley, Gladstone and Ireland.
[2] The Land League founded by Parnell in 1879 for the purpose of bringing about a reduction of rack rents, and facilitating the creation of a peasant proprietary. Egan was the treasurer of the Land League.
[3] Hansard, April 14, 1887, vol. 313.
[4] Morley, Life of Gladstone, vol. iii.
[5] Hansard, September 12, 1887, vol. 321.
[6] Hansard, September 12, 1887, vol. 321.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Hansard, February 14, 1888, vol. 322.
[9] Truth, September 15, 1887.
[10] Truth, September 22, 1887.
[11] Morley, Life of Gladstone, vol. iii.
[12] Hansard, April 18, 1887, vol. 313.
[13] The Counsel for the Times were Sir Richard Webster, the Attorney-General, Sir Henry James, Mr. Murphy, Mr. W. Graham, Mr. Atkinson, and Mr. Ronan; Sir Charles Russell and Mr. Asquith, M.P., appeared for Mr. Parnell.
[14] The Irishman was a Fenian newspaper owned by Pigott, and sold by him to Parnell in 1881.
[15] Mr. Parnell's secretary.
[16] Truth.
[17] See letters to Chamberlain in Chapter IX.
[18] Morley, Life of Gladstone, vol. iii.
[19] Macdonald, Diary of the Parnell Commission, July 6, 1887.
[20] Macdonald, Diary of the Parnell Commission.
[21] Special Commission Act, 1888, vol. v.
Sir Charles Russell's cross-examination of Pigott on the fifty-fourth and fifty-fifth days of the Commission's sittings is generally considered to be one of the finest things of the kind, from a technical point of view, ever heard. A friend who was much with him at that time relates that, on the day the cross-examination commenced, he was irritable and depressed and unable to eat, and that he could not have been more nervous had he been a junior with his first brief instead of the most formidable advocate at the Bar. But, as he stood facing the forger, his whole appearance changed. He was a picture of calmness, self-possession, and strength, there was no sign of impatience or irritability, not a trace of anxiety or care.[1] In the profound silence that had fallen upon the court he began, in tones of great courtesy:
Mr. Pigott, would you be good enough, with my Lord's permission, to write some words on that sheet of paper for me. Perhaps you will sit down in order to do it. [He gave him the sheet of paper he had in his hand.] Would you like to sit down?
Pigott. Oh no, thanks.
The President. Well, but I think that it is better that you should sit down. Here is a table upon which you can write in the ordinary way, the course you always pursue.
Sir Charles Russell. Will you write the word "livelihood"? Just leave a space. Will you write the word "likelihood"? Will you write your own name, leaving a space between each? Will you write the word "proselytism," and finally, I think I will not trouble you any more at present, "Patrick Egan" and "P. Egan" underneath it—"Patrick Egan" first and "P. Egan" underneath it? There is one word more I had forgotten. Lower down, please, leaving spaces, write the word "hesitancy" with a small "h."
Pigott, after he had written what he was told, handed back the sheet of paper, and, as soon as Sir Charles Russell had glanced at it, he knew that he had scored a great point for Mr. Parnell. The word that he had told Pigott to write last, and with a small "h," as if that were the significant part of the experiment, was the word which Pigott had misspelt in one of the letters supposed to be from Parnell to Egan which the Attorney-General had produced at the O'Donnell v. Walter trial. Pigott had again spelt it wrong. Hesitancy on the piece of paper which he handed back to Sir Charles Russell was spelt "hesitency."
The cross-examination of Pigott occupied the rest of that day, and before the end of it the wretched man had fallen into hopeless confusion. The production of some of his correspondence with the Archbishop of Dublin (Dr. Walsh), in which he offered, for a consideration of course, to avert the possibility of a blow which was about to fall upon the Nationalist party (presumably the publication of the facsimile letter), almost finished his brazen self-command. The day's sitting ended in a roar of laughter, for Pigott's silly, aimless reflections, elicited by the advocate's remorseless, persistent questions, were ludicrous, and it was easy to see what the climax of the affair would be. The next day things went worse and worse for Pigott. A correspondence which he had with Egan in 1881 was produced, in which he had misspelt the word "hesitancy" as he had done the day before in court. Egan's answers to Pigott were not forthcoming, for reasons which the forger made known later on, but the drafts of these answers, produced by Mr. Lewis (who had got them direct from Mr. Egan through Mr. Labouchere), bearing a remarkable similarity to the Egan letters produced by the Times, were read by Sir Charles Russell. Copies of letters written by Mr. Parnell to Pigott in 1881 were also read out, coinciding word for word in parts with the "facsimile letter" and the others put in by the accusers of the Nationalist party. Then Pigott was made to acknowledge how he had blackmailed Mr. Forster, and Mr. Wemyss Reid produced the Pigott-Forster correspondence in court. Before the reading of this correspondence was finished, the densely packed audience in the court, according to the Daily News reporter, was wrought up to the highest pitch of amusement and excitement. The court usher had long since ceased to cry out "Silence!" The merriment was almost continuous. The judges themselves were unable to repress their feelings. A loud ringing roar of laughter broke forth as Sir Charles Russell read one letter containing Pigott's application for £200 to enable him to proceed to Sydney, and some hints as to the pressure which was brought to bear upon him to publish the Forster letters. Mr. Justice Day, bending forward, reddened and shook with laughter. In this letter Pigott wrote: "I feel this is my last chance, and if that fails only the workhouse and the grave remains." Poor Pigott looked as if he would prefer even the grave to the witness-box. He changed colour; the helpless, foolish smile flickered about the weak heavy mouth; his hands moved about restlessly, nervously. Then came the climax—Pigott's letter to Mr. Forster, saying that he felt tempted to reveal to the world how he had been bribed by Mr. Forster to write against the interests of Ireland. The notion of Pigott's appearing in the character of injured innocence sent the audience off once more into a fit of laughter. It was now four o'clock, and, in the uproar and confusion, Pigott descended from the box, smiling foolishly.[2] That he had forged the letters no one now doubted for a moment. The way he had actually done it was not yet absolutely clear, but the ingenuous Pigott was not going to leave any mysteries unsolved. The court was adjourned until the following Tuesday.
The story of how the court met on February 26, and when Pigott was called upon to enter the witness-box there was no answer, and how it was subsequently elicited that he had disappeared from his hotel on the previous afternoon and not been seen again, has been graphically told by more than one writer. Who had given him the money to bolt, and who had assisted him to evade the constables who were supposed to be watching him, has never been positively revealed, but the fact remained—there was no Pigott there to tell the end of his squalid tale. The court adjourned for some thirty minutes, and then Sir Charles Russell made the startling announcement that Pigott, without an invitation from any one, had called upon Mr. Labouchere in Grosvenor Gardens on the previous Saturday, the day after his disastrous cross-examination, and had then and there dictated to him a full confession. This confession had been signed by Pigott and witnessed by Mr. George Augustus Sala. Mr. George Lewis, to whom Mr. Labouchere had communicated the confession, had refused to have anything to do with the document, and sent it back to Pigott with the following letter:
ELY PLACE, HOLBORN, Feb. 25, 1889.
SIR,—Mr. Labouchere has informed me that on Saturday you called at his house and expressed a desire to make a statement in writing, and he has handed to us the confession you have made, that you are the forger of the whole of the letters given in evidence by the Times purporting to be written respectively by Mr. Parnell, Mr. Egan, Mr. Davitt, and Mr. O'Kelly, and that, in addition, you committed perjury in support of the case of the Times. Mr. Parnell has instructed us to inform you that he declines to hold any communication directly or indirectly with you, and he further instructs us to return you the written confession which we enclose, and which for safety sake we send by hand.—We are, sir, yours obediently,
LEWIS & LEWIS.
Richard Pigott, Esq.
On the following day Sir Richard Webster made the announcement to the court that a letter had been received in Pigott's handwriting, posted in Paris, addressed to Mr. Shannon, the Dublin solicitor, who had been assisting Mr. Soames. The letter had not been opened, and he handed it to the President of the Commission, who passed it down to Mr. Cunynghame, and asked him to open and read its contents. It was Pigott's confession made to Mr. Labouchere and Mr. Lewis's letter to Pigott quoted above. The envelope contained also a note from the irrepressible Pigott as follows:
HÔTEL DE DEUX MONDES,
AVENUE DE L'OPERA, PARIS, Tuesday.
DEAR SIR,—Just before I left enclosed was handed to me. It had been left while I was out. Will write again soon.—Yours truly,
R. PIGOTT.
The confession, as far as the letters were concerned, ran as follows:
The circumstances connected with the obtaining of the letters, as I gave in evidence, are not true. No one save myself was concerned in the transaction. I told Houston that I had discovered the letters in Paris, but I grieve to have to confess that I simply myself fabricated them, using genuine letters of Messrs. Parnell and Egan in copying certain words, phrases, and general character of the handwriting. I traced some words and phrases by putting the genuine letter against the window, and placing on it the sheet of which copies have been read in court, and four or five letters of Mr. Egan, which were also read in court. I destroyed these letters after using them. Some of the signatures I traced in this manner, and some I wrote. I then wrote to Houston telling him to come to Paris for the documents. I told him that they had been placed in a black bag with some old accounts, scraps of paper, and old newspapers. On his arrival I produced to him the letters, accounts, and scraps of paper. After a brief inspection he handed me a cheque on Cook for £500, the price that I told him I had agreed to pay for them. At the same time he gave me £105 in bank-notes as my own commission. The accounts put in were leaves torn from an old account book of my own, which contained details of the expenditure of Fenian money entrusted to me from time to time, which is mainly in the handwriting of David Murphy, my cashier. The scraps I found in the bottom of an old writing-desk. I do not recollect in whose writing they are.
The second batch of letters was also written by me. Mr. Parnell's signature was imitated from that published in the Times facsimile letter. I do not now remember where I got the Egan letter from which I copied the signature.
I had no specimen of Campbell's handwriting beyond the two letters of Mr. Parnell to me, which I presumed might be in Mr. Campbell's handwriting. I wrote to Mr. Houston that this second batch was for sale in Paris, having been brought there from America. He wrote asking to see them. I forwarded them accordingly, and after keeping them three or four days, he sent me a cheque on Cook for the price demanded for them, £550. The third batch consisted of a letter imitated by me from a letter written in pencil to me by Mr. Davitt when he was in prison, and of another letter copied by me from a letter of a very early date, which I received from James O'Kelly when he was writing on my newspapers, and of a third letter ascribed to Egan, the writing of which, and some of the words, I copied from an old bill of exchange in Mr. Egan's handwriting. £200 was the price paid to me by Mr. Houston for these three letters. It was paid in bank-notes. I have stated that for the first batch I received £105 for myself, for the second batch I got £50, for the third batch I was supposed to receive nothing.
I did not see Breslin in America. This was part of the deception.
With respect to my interview with Messrs. Parnell, Labouchere, and Lewis, my sworn statement is in the main correct. I am now, however, of opinion that the offer to me by Mr. Labouchere of £1000 was not for giving evidence but for any documents in Mr. Egan's or Mr. Parnell's handwriting that I might happen to have. My statement only referred to the first interviews with these gentlemen. I had a further interview with Mr. Labouchere, on which occasion I made him acquainted with further circumstances not previously mentioned by me at the preceding interviews.
There was a pause after Mr. Cunynghame finished reading the extraordinary document. It was an awkward moment for the Attorney-General, but, in an extremely dignified speech, he informed the court that, on behalf of his clients, he asked permission to withdraw from the consideration of the Commission the question of the genuineness of the letters which had been submitted to them. On that day Mr. Parnell appeared for the first time in the witness-box, and in answer to Sir Charles Russell's questions swore to the forgery of his signature on all the letters in question. There was no attempt to cross-examine on the part of Sir Richard Webster. Mr. Labouchere entered the witness-box on March 3. He gave his evidence very slowly and realistically, rather in the style perhaps of what Lord Randolph Churchill described as newspaper paragraphs, but there was no lack of connection in his descriptions of his various interviews with Pigott. When it came to the final interview on the preceding Saturday the questions of the great advocate became very close.