MORE MUNITIONS OF PEACE.
(An Episode in the Camp of the Nationalist Volunteers.)
Several further months had elapsed in the history of the scheme for the "better government of Ireland." The Home Rule Bill had been read for the third time in the Inferior Chamber, but, apart from this conciliatory action, no effective attempt had been made to avert the horrors of Civil War.
Meanwhile two coups had been planned, of which the one failed and the other succeeded. And during the arrangements for the first coup (for it got no further than the preparatory stage—and even this was denied) it was revealed that British officers were not very greatly inclined to shoot down their fellow-countrymen for the sake of the beaux jeux of a political party. And for this the politicians of that party, selecting the worst name they could think of, described these officers as politicians. And the cry of "The Army v. the People," started by a Labour Member (who wore a large hat), and supported by the First Lord of the Admiralty (who wore a small one), was raised very high and then dropped, as likely to prove inexpedient.
But the other coup (which succeeded) was a very clever feat of gun-running on the part of the Ulster Volunteers. And, the law having been broken, the Government, as its guardian, determined to take no punitive measures—an attitude that was repellent both to Sir William Byles and to Mr. Neil Primrose.
And now there grew up in each political party a body of rebellion. For on the Liberal side there were those, notorious at other seasons for their advocacy of peace at whatever charges, who gave out that there were worse things than Civil War, and one of the worse things was the stultification of their own projects, or, as they put it, of the Will of the People; though they showed no strong anxiety to discover, by the usual tests, what the Will of the People might actually be in the matter.
And on the Unionist side there were those who said that they would do nothing to provoke Civil War, but that, since it took two sides to conduct a Civil or any other kind of War, and the British Army was apparently not available, there was no fear of Civil War, and they (the Unionist Party) could well afford to stiffen themselves about the lips.
And all this tended to embarrass the labours (if any) of those leaders who were still supposed to be holding communion together for the furtherance of a compromise.
Now, among the Ulster Volunteers, though perfect sobriety was exhorted and maintained, it was excusably felt that it would be a pity if so fine a force should have been raised and armed at such expense and sacrifice and then have no chance of showing what it could do. And this feeling evoked sympathy in the breasts of the Irish of the South and West; and they said to them of Ulster, "Rather than see your army wasted we will ourselves raise one for you to shoot at." And this they did, in part for sheer joy of the chance of a fight, and in part for admiration of the sportsmanship of a people that had defied a British Government. And though some joined the new Volunteers for love of Home Rule, and with the object of offering themselves as substitutes for the British Army, yet the promoters were content to allege, vaguely and inoffensively, that their object was just the protection of Irish liberty, whatever that might be taken to mean. And, being Irish, no exact logic was asked of them.
But at first Mr. Redmond, as a supporter of the law, and scandalised by its breach in Ulster, declined to approve this illegal development, which for the rest he regarded as negligible. But later, when it had grown too large to be ignored, he generously consented to overlook its illegality and to place it under official patronage. But his offer was received in a spirit of very regrettable independence. On reflection, however, this attitude was exchanged for one of sullen submission.
Now a private army is a dangerous thing when you know what it is for; but it is a very dangerous thing when you don't. And there were cynics—not too frivolous—who held that the best course for the Government would be to withdraw from Ireland for the time being and leave Ulster and the Rest to come to an agreement of their own, either with or without a bloody prelude. And there were other critics—not much more frivolous—who replied that, if we walked out of Ireland and left Ulster and the Rest to come to terms, they might get to understand one another to such good purpose that we should never have the opportunity of walking in again.
And the Government's only consolation lay in the thought that the Rest of Ireland lacked the munitions of war owing to the vigilant precautions taken to prevent the importation of arms into Ulster.
A thrill of emotion rippled over the tented plain. Into the camp of the Nationalist Volunteers had dashed a motor-car which was taken to be the forerunner of a great consignment of smuggled arms, for it contained a bulky wooden case with the label "Munitions of Peace" pasted upon its façade—a superscription that might well have been designed to mislead the wariest of coastguards and patrols. Its sole convoy was an old gentleman—evidently selected for the part, for by his air of simple benevolence you would have judged him the last man in the world to be suspected of nefarious practices.
A cry of bitter disappointment broke out on the discovery that the "munitions" consisted of nothing but books. But the uproar died down as the old gentleman was seen to assume the attitude of an orator. His words were at first received in courteous silence; then with sympathetic approval; finally with deafening applause.
"Nationalist Volunteers!" he said: "I come from performing a similar mission of camaraderie among the hosts of Ulster. I am no partisan. I am like a certain philanthropist of whom I have heard who purveyed sherbet to the rival camps of the Sultan of Morocco and the Pretender. I trust that my fate may not be his, for he was the sole person killed in one of the noisiest battles ever fought in the environs of Fez.
"This tome, identical with the rest of my munitions of peace, embodies (for I made the contents myself, and so ought to know) the highest wisdom mingled with the purest material for mirth. Its contemporaneous perusal in both camps should encourage a common ideal of humour and so promote mutual respect and affection.
"I would go even further and express the hope that here may be found a spirit of genial tolerance which, if assimilated by all parties, will infallibly lead to a solution of the Irish Question without the inconvenience of bloodshed. Gentlemen, permit me!" And thereupon he presented to the admiring gaze of his audience Mr. Punch's
