The publication of this letter naturally made a great stir in Parliament and in the country at large. Parnell stated in the House of Commons that the letter was a forgery, and later asked for the appointment of a select committee to inquire whether the facsimile letter was a forgery. The Government refused this request, but appointed a special committee, composed of three judges, to investigate all the charges made by the Times.
The writer is indebted again to Russell's biographer, Mr. O'Brien, for the details of this celebrated case. Seldom has any legal controversy been so graphically described as this one. One seems to be living with Russell, and indeed with Mr. O'Brien himself, throughout those eventful months. We must content ourselves, however, with a reproduction of the cross-examination of Pigott as it comes from the stenographer's minutes of the trial, enlightened by the pen of Russell's facile biographer.
Mr. O'Brien speaks of it as "the event in the life of Russell—the defence of Parnell." In order to undertake this defence, Russell returned to the Times the retainer he had enjoyed from them for many previous years. It was known that the Times had bought the letter from Mr. Houston, the secretary of the Irish Loyal and Patriotic Union, and that Mr. Houston had bought it from Pigott. But how did Pigott come by it? That was the question of the hour, and people looked forward to the day when Pigott should go into the box to tell his story, and when Sir Charles Russell should rise to cross-examine him. Mr. O'Brien writes: "Pigott's evidence in chief, so far as the letter was concerned, came practically to this: he had been employed by the Irish Loyal and Patriotic Union to hunt up documents which might incriminate Parnell, and he had bought the facsimile letter, with other letters, in Paris from an agent of the Clan-na-Gael, who had no objection to injuring Parnell for a valuable consideration....
"During the whole week or more Russell had looked pale, worn, anxious, nervous, distressed. He was impatient, irritable, at times disagreeable. Even at luncheon, half an hour before, he seemed to be thoroughly out of sorts, and gave you the idea rather of a young junior with his first brief than of the most formidable advocate at the Bar. Now all was changed. As he stood facing Pigott, he was a picture of calmness, self-possession, strength; there was no sign of impatience or irritability; not a trace of illness, anxiety, or care; a slight tinge of color lighted up the face, the eyes sparkled, and a pleasant smile played about the mouth. The whole bearing and manner of the man, as he proudly turned his head toward the box, showed courage, resolution, confidence. Addressing the witness with much courtesy, while a profound silence fell upon the crowded court, he began: 'Mr. Pigott, would you be good enough, with my Lords' permission, to write some words on that sheet of paper for me? Perhaps you will sit down in order to do so?' A sheet of paper was then handed to the witness. I thought he looked for a moment surprised. This clearly was not the beginning that he had expected. He hesitated, seemed confused. Perhaps Russell observed it. At all events he added quickly:—
"'Would you like to sit down?'
"'Oh, no, thanks,' replied Pigott, a little flurried.
"The President. 'Well, but I think 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.'
"Pigott sat down and seemed to recover his equilibrium.
"Russell. 'Will you write the word "livelihood"?'
"Pigott wrote.