“I understand then,” I said, “that the Lord Lieutenant with the purely ornamental part of the Viceregal staff is to be allowed to remain on the condition that he gives—shall we say eight balls and eight dinner-parties every year?—and that every other Englishman leaves the country at once. Those are your terms.”
“And no more talk about Home Rule,” said the Dean firmly.
“Very well,” I said, “I’ll start at once.”
Bob Power was waiting for me in Conroy’s motor when I had packed my bag. The streets were very crowded as we drove through them, and the people cheered us tremendously. It was the first time I had ever been cheered, and I found the sensation agreeable. Besides cheering, the crowd sang a great deal. Some one had composed a song especially for the occasion, which had caught the fancy of the Belfast people, and spread among them with wonderful rapidity. The tune, I am told, dates from the days of the eighteenth-century volunteer movement.
“Do you think I’m a fool
To put up with Home Rule?
For I’m not, as you’ll quickly discover, discover.
For soldier and rebel
I’m equally able;
I’ll neither have one nor the t’other, the t’other.”
As poetry this is scarcely equal to Dr. Isaac Watts’ version of the ninetieth of David’s psalms. The rhyme of “rebel” with “able” is defective, and “discover” and “other” jar rather badly; but poets of high reputation have done worse in times of patriotic excitement, and the thing expressed the feelings of the Belfast people with perfect accuracy. A better poet might very well have failed to understand them.
Bob and I made the sea-passage as short as possible by steaming to Port Patrick. I spent an anxious half-hour while we passed through the squadron of warships. Bob assured me that they would not do anything to us. When I complained that they had a truculent and angry look about them he said that that was nothing out of the common. All warships look truculent. I dare say they do. Warfare has become much more civilized and scientific than it used to be; but we cannot any of us afford as yet to neglect the wisdom of the mediæval Chinese. They wore masks in order to terrify their foes. Our battleships are evidently designed with the same object.
I reached London next morning, and at once sent word to the Prime Minister that I was ready to make a treaty with him. He sent Sir Samuel Clithering to act as an intermediary. We met in the library of Moyne House, which was neutral ground. Lady Moyne had been one of the original syndicate which, so to speak, placed our insurrection on the market. Her house was therefore friendly soil for me. She had afterwards disassociated herself, more or less, from Conroy and McNeice; while Moyne had been trying for two days to surrender himself. The Prime Minister’s ambassador could therefore go to Moyne House without loss of dignity.
Clithering brought my nephew Godfrey with him.
“Mr. D’Aubigny,” he said, “is acting for the present as one of my private secretaries.”