During these years I had many opportunities of getting a knowledge of Pigott's true character. From time to time money had been subscribed through Pigott's papers for various national funds. Michael Davitt told me that when the political prisoners were released the committee appointed to raise a fund for them, to give them a start in life, applied for what had been sent through the "Irishman" and "Flag," that the whole of the funds subscribed through the various channels might be publicly presented to the men. There was considerable difficulty in getting this money from Pigott, but ultimately it was squeezed out of him.
An employe of the "Irishman," David Murphy, was shot—he survived his wound—in a mysterious manner. This was ascribed, and from all we know of the man, correctly, to Pigott, who, it was thought, fearing that Murphy might know too much about the sums coming into his hands and the sources whence they came, had tried to get him put out of the way. There was a still more serious aspect of this attempted assassination. The revelations of the "Times" Forgeries Commission afterwards proved that all this time Pigott was giving information to the police and getting paid for it. To my own personal knowledge David Murphy held an important position in the advanced organisation, for I once brought a young friend of mine, a printer, a sterling Irishman I had known from his early boyhood in Liverpool, from Wexford, where he was at the time employed, specially to introduce him to Murphy.
From the information given to the police by Pigott, it would soon be found there was some leakage, which would, no doubt, be traced to the "Irishman" office. It would, of course, be Pigott's cue to put the blame on the shoulders of Murphy, hence probably his attempted assassination.
It was not unreasonable, then, in looking round for the actual forger of the famous fac simile letter, that I and others who knew him should single out a man with such a bad record as Richard Pigott as the actual criminal.
The collapse of the conspiracy against the Irish leaders, and the suicide of the wretched Pigott on the 1st of March, 1889, are matters of history.
For the complete way in which the conspiracy was smashed up great credit was due to the distinguished Irish advocate, Sir Charles Russell. In his early days I knew him well, and was often thrown into contact with him, when he was a young barrister practising on the Northern circuit, and making Liverpool his headquarters. He was a member of the Liverpool Catholic Club when I was secretary of that body. The Club, before the Home Rule organisation superseded it in Liverpool, generally supported the Liberals in Parliamentary elections, but on one occasion there was, from a Catholic point of view, a very undesirable Liberal candidate, whom it was determined not to support. Pressure had, therefore, to be put upon the Liberals to withdraw this man. They were obstinate, though they had not the ghost of a chance without the Irish and Catholic vote, which formed fully half the strength they could generally count upon. On the other hand, we could not carry the seat by our own unaided vote. But, to show the Liberals that we would not have their man under any circumstances, it was arranged that if he were willing we should put Charles Russell forward as our candidate. As secretary it became my duty to ask him to place himself in our hands. He agreed, on the understanding that he was to be withdrawn if our action had the effect of forcing the Liberals to get a candidate more acceptable to us. We succeeded, and, of course, withdrew our man.
When we started the Home Rule organisation in Liverpool, we asked Charles Russell to be chairman of our inaugural public meeting. He had been contesting Dundalk as a Home Ruler, so we thought he was the very man to preside at our meeting, and gave that as our reason for asking him. He received the deputation—my friend, Alfred Crilly and myself—with that geniality and courtesy which were so characteristic of him. As it happened that the three of us were County Down men, who are somewhat clannish, we soon got talking about the people "at home." He knew both our families in Ireland, and had served his time with a solicitor of my name in Newry, Cornelius Denvir, before he had entered the other branch of the legal profession. We also got talking of the barony of Lecale, which he, as well as my own people, had sprung from, and how it had been the only Norman colony in Ulster; how many of the descendants of De Courcy's followers were still there, as might be seen from their names—Russells, Savages, Mandevilles. Dorrians, Denvirs, and others, whose fathers, intermarrying with the original Celtic population, MacCartans, Magennises, MacRorys, and so on, had become like the Burkes, Fitzgeralds, and other Norman clans, "More Irish than the Irish themselves."
This was all very well, and very interesting, but it did not get us our chairman. Charles Russell was too wary, and, perhaps, too far-seeing, who can tell? for that. It was quite true, he said, he had contested Dundalk as a Home Ruler, and, of course, he was a Home Ruler, but he advised us to ask Dr. Commins to be our chairman, as being so much better known than himself. We did ask "The Doctor," and, kindly and genial as we ever found him, he at once consented.
Nearly forty years have passed since then, and I really believe that these two, then comparatively young men, practically made choice of their respective after-careers on that occasion.
Dr. Commins, who, like Charles Russell, was a practising barrister on the Northern circuit, held for some years the highest position his fellow-countrymen could give him as President of the Home Rule Confederation of Great Britain, and became a member of the Irish Parliamentary Party.