Parnell’s was undoubtedly a strange inscrutable character. He was imperfectly understood even by the party he so imperiously controlled: he had, I think, but little desire to be understood. Power used to tell me that on the occasion of an important debate his closest associates never knew with any certainty whether he would be present; and yet once present they knew beyond all question that his will would dominate them all.
It was indeed impossible to be in his company without being sensible of the strength of his personality. His reserve was impenetrable, and yet he could yield to sudden gusts of emotion which revealed as by a lightning flash the strong nervous tension by means of which his self-possession was held and preserved. I think he himself was always conscious of the degree of secrecy, almost, one might say, of mystery, that cloaked his life even in matters where secrecy could have no purpose or significance. He told me once that if he had occasion to consult a doctor, even for the most trifling ailment, he always withheld his name, and such was the habit of reserve that had grafted itself upon his life, that he seemed almost surprised the custom was not common to all the world.
Some of the American ambassadors sent to this country have been notable speakers, amongst them Mr. James Russell Lowell and Mr. Choate. Mr. Bayard also, though not perhaps possessed of an equal natural gift, could on occasion be deeply impressive.
I remember at a dinner of the Actors’ Benevolent Fund, in 1895, he extricated himself with considerable grace and tact from a somewhat awkward predicament. The dinner was held on the 18th of December, and it had been arranged that I should propose the toast of “Friends across the Sea,” to which Mr. Bayard was to respond. But it so happened on that very day had come President Cleveland’s unhappy message to Congress about Venezuela, a message so entirely unexpected: and at the same time so warlike and menacing in its tone, that the tenor of it created something like consternation in the mind of the English public.
When I arrived Mr. Bayard was pacing alone, among the assembled guests in the anteroom, and I ventured to suggest to Sir Francis Jeune, who was to take the chair, that it might be wiser, in view of the circumstances, to omit this particular toast. Sir Francis Jeune, however, was firm in the opinion that the situation must be faced. As he observed to me, “I hear that as a speaker you can skate over thin ice, and to-night you have your opportunity.”
All the correspondents of the chief American newspapers were present, and all were in eager expectation to see how a difficult and delicate situation would be handled by the ambassador. I confess, for my own part, that I felt a little nervous in regard to the task assigned me, and I remember my dear friend, Sir Frank Lockwood, coming to me just before we sat down to dinner and imploring me to say something that might tend to soothe the irritated feeling which the unfortunate despatch had aroused.
I think I must have steered my course successfully, for at the end of my speech Mr. Bayard, rising to respond, was received with genuine enthusiasm by the assembled company. He was evidently deeply moved, for his words came slowly; but he contrived also to move and impress his audience. His opening sentences, earnestly delivered, seemed to still the menace of war and to relieve the feeling of tension that President Cleveland’s actions had created.
“To-night,” he said, “we stand upon common ground. Mr. Comyns Carr’s remarks have affected me deeply. There is no sea between us now.” And at the close he added, “There is a headline used by Mr. Gladstone in the article, ‘Our Kith and Kin beyond the Seas,’ which I would gladly recall at this moment. In that article he used this couplet—
When love unites, wide space divides in vain,
And hands may clasp across the spreading main.
I think it is time to repeat those words. No profession can speak them so well as yours, and none can speak them so well, in the name of your country or my country, as the profession that is domiciled in both countries, and I therefore ask you to join with me in wishing that ‘hands may clasp across the spreading main.’”