His gestures and attitude were of endless variety. He had a trick of stretching out his neck and making wry faces at the Speaker. The next moment his arms were raised above his head, his fists firmly clenched as he declaimed a passionate passage of denunciation. He wore a wig, which suffered greatly in the course of a busy session. He would suddenly seize it with both hands as if about to tear it to pieces. He was merely half-consciously intent upon adjusting it. During a memorable speech advocating the repeal of the Union in 1834 he amazed the House by untying his cravat, taking it off, and laying it on the bench beside him. In the height of oratorical happiness he felt incommoded by the tightening of his neckcloth, and the simplest thing to do obviously was to remove it.
Among Irish members of this epoch Sheil ranked next to O’Connell. His eloquence commanded attention on both sides of the House. It was, however, hampered by several eccentricities. Mr. Gladstone, who preserved to the last a vivid impression of him, told me that when addressing the House he started on a loud key and rather screeched than spoke. Another tradition coming down to modern Parliaments describes him as bending down to scrape the floor with his thumbnail and thanking God he had no gestures. This reads like fable, but it is confirmed from Q’s personal observation.
‘Sometimes,’ he wrote, ‘Mr. Sheil bends his body to such a degree that you are not without fear he may lose his equilibrium and fall head prostrate on the floor. At other times he advances to the table, gives three or four lusty strokes on the box, and then suddenly retreats backwards four or five steps. In a few seconds we see him by another sudden bound leaning over the table, stretching out his neck as if trying to reach some hon. member opposite. In addition to an unmelodious voice, Sheil’s articulation is indistinct, his utterance reaching a stage of amazing rapidity.’
Feargus O’Connor, best known in connection with the Chartist movement, by favour of O’Connell represented County Cork in the session of 1834. Among stories told in the smoking-room of the House of Commons during the Parliament of 1874-80 was one that does not seem to have reached Q’s ear. It ran to the effect that, strolling about behind the Speaker’s Chair in the old House of Commons, O’Connor observed through the open door of the Speaker’s private room preparations for the right hon. gentleman’s early evening meal. Feargus, so the story ran, whether in a moment of absence of mind or in a preliminary state of mental defection that some years later necessitated incarceration in an asylum for the insane, seated himself at the table and ate the Speaker’s chop.
Differing in all ways from these illustrious unconventional Irishmen was Edward Bulwer Lytton, who sat in the session of 1835 as Member for Lincoln. Q describes him as
‘Artificial throughout, the mere creature of self-discipline. A fine-looking man, tall and handsome, he always dressed in the extreme of fashion. His manner of speaking, like his manner in all other respects, was affected. He wrote his speeches out, learned them off by heart, and delivered them with great rapidity in a weak voice, made more difficult to follow by reason of affected pronunciation. He did not often speak, and was rewarded for his moderation in this respect by finding the benches crowded when he interposed in debate.’
LADY CONNIE.
BY MRS. HUMPHRY WARD.
Copyright, 1915, by Mrs. Humphry Ward, in the United States of America.