Parnell expressed a desire that Gladstone should have his (Parnell's) views distinctly put before him by me—not in writing. This did not suit Gladstone. He had no intention of giving away his hand in regard to the Crimes Bill, and, in the then temper of his own Party and of the Conservatives, was not at all desirous of making any further private concession that would certainly place him in a too favourable light (as regards this Bill) in the eyes of the Irishmen.
He was determined not to see me again with reference to the Crimes Bill, and on June 23 he wrote me to that effect. It was obvious from the tone of his letter that he was annoyed by the continued opposition of the Irish Party, which, from his point of view, only served to impede the progress of the Arrears Bill.
On one of my visits to Downing Street I told Gladstone of the inner working of the Ladies' Land League, about which he was curious. I mentioned to him the enormous sum these Lady Leaguers had expended and the great difficulty Parnell had had in suppressing them. When he heard the sum of their estimated weekly expenditure a grim smile flitted over his face. "Very satisfactory," he remarked, "as the ladies have evidently put these large sums beyond the power of—of the Land League's expenditure!"
Gladstone would not sit still when he talked to me, but liked to pace up and down the long room with me. On my entry he would rise from his desk to greet me and, solemnly handing me a chair, would walk down the room to the door at the end, which was always open when I entered, close it firmly and, pacing back to the door of my entry, push it. These preparations always made me smile—a smile in which he joined as, coming up to me and offering me his arm, he said: "Do you mind walking up and down the room, I talk better so." So we paced up and down while I voiced Parnell's instructions and listened to the G.O.M.'s views, intentions, and tentative suggestions, always on my part keeping to "It is considered that, etc.," in giving Parnell's point, and always receiving "your friend should, etc.," or "I am prepared to concede to your friend, etc., in return."
He was so careful in this regard that one day I said: "What is it you shut up in that room, Mr. Gladstone, when I come to see you?"
"Persons, or a person, you do not come to see, Mrs. O'Shea. Only a secretary or so, and occasionally, in these times of foolish panic, detectives. No," in answer to my look of inquiry, "no one can overhear a word we say when we pace up and down like this, and, as you do not mind it, it refreshes me."
Always as I stood face to face with this Grand Old Man on leaving, and looked into his slate-coloured eyes, so like those of an eagle, I experienced a sudden uneasy feeling, in spite of his gracious courtesy, of how like to a beautiful bird of prey this old man was: with the piercing, cruel eyes belying the tender, courteous smile, and how, relentless as an eagle, men like this had struck and torn their victims. But to me, personally, he always showed the marvellous charm of manner which sent me away feeling that I was at least a compelling force in the great game of politics and worthy of the place I held.
The political history of this time has been written many times, and from various points of view, and in this book I do not propose to repeat it, but only to record such point or detail as at the time affected my King in his home life.
[[1]] Gladstone.