Mr. Gladstone. I have no intention of charging the right honorable gentleman with anything which is not true in fact. I am glad he has contradicted me. I did not recollect, for I did not hear it. But it was totally and absolutely untrue. (Opposition cheers.) Either he had not read what I said, or if he has read it, and the same applies to the honorable and gallant member for North Armagh, they have absolutely misrepresented the purport of the speech they professed to quote. I never named Whelehan except to deplore his death, and to express the hope that his murderers would be punished. In my reference to that speech, there is not a word to show that Whelehan was the man who was the unhappy organ of the police in ministering pecuniary payment to the infamous informer, nor is there one word in all that reference of blame to her Majesty's Government. On the contrary, there is an express declaration that I laid no blame upon her Majesty's Government with reference to the case of Whelehan. Why, then, did I refer to it? On this account: The honorable and gallant gentleman, in the careless way in which he refers to these things, said I must be cognizant of the fact that prices were paid for obtaining information I said at Nottingham; I made no reference at all to the rather difficult question of payment of prices for obtaining information: but what I referred to was the payment of prices, not for obtaining information, but for concocting and concerting crimes. (Cheers.) After the gradual revelations that were made to us of the mode in which Ireland is administered, according to the traditions of that country, it is perfectly possible that such things may have been done, though I have never heard of them. But when I did learn in that particular instance of that foul and loathsome practice of paying money for such a purpose to a man, as far as we are yet informed, who was to attend a meeting of the criminals for the purpose of putting a hand to the arrangement and the execution of it (loud cheers), then I did think it was time to protest in the name of the Liberal party, if not of the whole country, against the practice which, in my opinion, is in itself odious to the last degree, which would not be for a moment tolerated in England, and in reference to which I thought it wise and right to point out that it was dangerous as well as odious, that when in a similar case the population of England had become cognizant of similar practices, they themselves had resorted to the commission of crime for the purpose of marking the detestation with which they regarded it. ("Hear, hear.")
I pass on to the remarks of the right honorable gentleman the Chief Secretary for Ireland, and I feel bound to refer to the observation he made during the general debate on the address last week, to what he called the practice of members on this side of the House of making statements outside this House which they would not repeat within it, and especially to his adverse and rather angry comments on tne pacific tone of the speech which I had just delivered. The right honorable gentleman overflows with pugnacious matter. He is young and inexperienced in debate, and bold and able as I confess him to be, I think that when he has been fifty-six years in the service of his country, it is possible that his stock of contentious eagerness may be a little abated. (Laughter and cheers.) I have many reasons, but if I must give a reason why I was particularly anxious to avoid the needless introduction of contentious or polemical or accusatory matter in speaking on the opening debate on the address. I felt that an Irish debate was pending; and in the second place, the great object I had in view was to assist and to promote the purpose of the Government,—to promote, I will also say, the honor, dignity, and efficiency of this House, by giving what I may call in homely language a good start to the business of the session, by detaching it from everything like controversy. But if the right honorable gentleman laments the uncombative character of that discussion, I think he will derive probably ample satisfaction in the future. There is no fear, I believe, that Irish debate will be wanting in animation, possibly in animosity, so long as the right honorable gentleman continues to be Chief Secretary. (Opposition cheers and laughter.) The right honorable gentleman even on that occasion found in my pacific speech matter deserving of indignant rebuke. I repeat my lamentations that some of the most difficult and the nicest parts of the law are removed by the operation of the Coercion Act of last year from judges and juries to men whom I termed of an inferior stamp. That was the observation I ventured to make, and the right honorable gentleman was rather wrathful over it. I fully admit that he is a perfect master of tu quoque. He said, "Whoever they are, they are the men whom Lord Spencer appointed." In the first place, that is quite inaccurate; and in the second place, if inaccurate, it was totally irrelevant. It is perfectly inaccurate.
Mr. Balfour. I said that sixty out of seventy-three were appointed mostly by Lord Spencer, or else were the appointments of previous Governments revived by him.
Mr. Gladstone. And so the right honorable gentleman thinks that what he calls reviving—that is to say not dismissing—is the same thing as appointing. ("Hear, hear," and laughter.)
The gentlemen of whose conduct as resident magistrates I especially complained, were Mr. Eldon, Captain Seagrave, Mr. Cecil Roche, Mr. Meldon, and Mr. Carew. These five, and undoubtedly these are the gentlemen I had specially in view when I spoke of men of an inferior stamp, not one of these was appointed by Lord Spencer. (Cheers.) But supposing they were, the statement of the right honorable gentleman was absolutely and ludicrously irrelevant. What I was speaking of was not the discharge by the resident magistrates of their ordinary and traditionary duties, but the extraordinary duties which the right honorable gentleman and the Government have insisted in putting upon them. The right honorable gentleman was especially indignant with me, because at a given date in the recess, or before the termination of the session, I telegraphed to some correspondent the words, "Remember Mitchelstown," and that in a speech at Nottingham I had developed my meaning of that phrase with all the force I could. The right honorable gentleman thought fit to point at me the reproach that I was not disposed to maintain here what I have said elsewhere.
Now I have referred to my own statement at Nottingham about Mitchelstown, and I can only say I not only adhere to it, but I strengthen it. I never in my life uttered words, or sent words by letter or telegram, which I more rejoice to have used, and am better content to have used, than the words, "Remember Mitchelstown." (Loud Opposition cheers.) It was not done inconsiderately. It was done considerately, for the sake of Ireland and the country, and for the sake of preventing the enormous mischiefs, probable sufferings, probable bloodshed, and the consequent resistance to the law that might arise in Ireland in consequence of what had occurred at Mitchelstown, and of its adoption and appropriation by the right honorable gentleman. (Cheers.) What was it? It was this: A legal meeting ("Hear, hear") of 4,000 men assembled; the police, under the plea of the common practice of having an official reporter at the meeting, instead of prior communication with those who held it, instead of going to the platform at a point where it was open and accessible, formed a wedge of twenty men, and endeavored by force to drive that wedge into the middle of the crowd. I am here to say that a public meeting is an orderly assembly; that to observe order in a public meeting is part of the law of the land ("Hear, hear"); that the driving a wedge into the meeting was an illegality on the part of the police; and that the police who drove it into the crowd were themselves guilty of illegality, and ought to have been given into custody. (Cheers.)
On this deplorable occasion the agents of the law were the breakers of the law, and those breakers of the law, acting in the first instance under subordinate authority, were adopted and sanctioned by the right honorable gentleman, with the full authority of the Government. (Cheers.) What was the second act of the police? Their wedge was not strong enough; they were pressed back out of the crowd, and it seems to me with perfect propriety and legality, whereupon they brought a large force of police and charged the crowd, because the crowd had not concurred and co-operated in the former illegality. That was a fresh illegality committed by the police. Then violence began; then began the use of batons; then began the use of sticks and cudgels; then began the sufferings of the men in the crowd, and of individual members of the police, on which the right honorable gentleman is eloquent, and which I regret as much as he does. But the police in these two illegalities of attacking and batoning the crowd were defeated. The crowd did not pursue them. (Cheers.) According to all the information before us, the crowd were recalled, and again took their places in the square. A mere scattering and sprinkling of most probably boys, we know not how and to what extent, were in the street where the police barracks are to be found; and among them, those boys or others, succeeded in breaking three windows of the police barracks. (Laughter.) Those three windows were exalted and uplifted by the right honorable gentleman into a general attack on the barracks, compelling the police, in self-defence, to fire on the people. In one sense I must say the police did not fire on the people, for no mass of people was there to fire on. I said at Nottingham, and it is the result of all the inquiry I have made, that there was not more than twenty people in the street opposite the barracks, and under these circumstances the police actually fired into the windows of the opposite house, where there were peaceful people, women, and children; and they fired deliberately at individuals, two old men and one boy, whom they destroyed. That I do not hesitate here to denounce—I think I did not use the words at Nottingham—as cruel, wanton, and disgraceful bloodshed (Loud cheers.) It recalls the period of Lord Sidmouth, and was bloodshed which, so far as I know, has had no example in its wantonness and causelessness since the memorable occasion in Manchester, which is popularly known as the Massacre of Peterloo. (Cheers.)
Now, I have given the right honorable gentlemen my views about Mitchelstown. (Opposition cheers and derisive Ministerial cheers.) It was time that I should say, "Remember Mitchelstown." Mitchelstown might have become what in one particular class of language is termed a "prerogative instance." The Mitchelstown police, commended by the right honorable gentleman, were held up to the police in Ireland as the pattern which they were to follow. (Cheers.) They were told they had acted only in self-defence, and the measure and meaning of self-defence, as exhibited at Mitchelstown, I feared, and it was reasonable to fear, would be the meaning and the measure of self-defence on every other occasion, when, by legality or illegality, the police found an opportunity of coming into collision with the people. (Cheers.) I tell the right honorable gentleman frankly that, in my opinion, he had become, by clear implication, a breaker of the law. (Cheers.) He had given to the breaking of the law authoritative countenance and approval, and not only so, but he had done it under circumstances where that authoritative approval, conveyed to the mind of the police, would naturally, justly, and excusably, almost necessarily, have pointed out to them that that was to be the model and rule of their conduct in every example of the kind. (Cheers.) Sir, it was in the interests of law and order that I denounced the conduct of the police. (Opposition cheers and derisive Ministerial cheers, in which Mr. Balfour joined.) It will be a long time, I think, before he can discover an instance, either on this bench or among any of those who are our friends, in which the law and order of the country, and the security and the lives of the people, had been treated with such recklessness as they then were by the right honorable gentleman and his colleagues. (Cheers.) I have done my best to inform myself, and in conformity with, I believe, uncontradicted and consentient statements, I contend that the inferences I have drawn from these facts are just inferences, and that it was not only natural but necessary to adopt precautions on the part, I will say, of England, against the fatal imitations which Mitchelstown might have produced, and to take securities for law and order in Ireland, first of all, as I pointed out to the people of England, that these things ought to be watched; and secondly, by making known to the Government, and to their agents and their organs beyond the the Channel, that if such occurrences did happen, they would not pass uncensured. (Cheers.) I believe I never spoke more useful—I will go further, and say more fruitful—words than when I telegraphed, "Remember Mitchelstown." (Loud Opposition cheers and derisive Ministerial cheers.) I now come to the statistics of the right honorable gentleman, with reference to boycotting. The Government are particularly stingy in their statistics, but they have given some figures as to boycotting. I do not recollect that boycotting was ever made a portion of Government statistics before.
Mr. Balfour. We have made statistics before on boycotting.
Mr. Gladstone. Yes; but I am speaking of the ancient and traditional practice which this Conservative Government are always so indisposed to follow. (Opposition cheers and laughter.) Statistics of crime deal with facts and matter of record; statistics of boycotting, as far as I understand, are matter of opinion. ("Hear, hear.") What amounts to boycotting,—what is the test of it? There must be, and will be, cases of harsh and unreasonable persecution under the name of boycotting. It is never to be forgotten, though it is very common to forget it, that when you have a state of things that prevails in Ireland,—old and sore relations of friction between class and class, the sense of still remaining suffering or grievance, and consequent instability of social order,—the criminal elements that will always subsist in every community (though I thank God to say that I believe they subsist in Ireland more narrowly than almost anywhere else), I will find their way into social questions, and undoubtedly you will have bad, and very bad, cases exhibited in matters such as these. Therefore the exhibition of particular instances is a very unsafe and insufficient test. They ought to be quoted with great accuracy. The right honorable gentleman has been defending to-night his chosen instruments of the present year. ("Hear, hear.") Yes, but he was met immediately with point blank contradictions on matters of fact, and at present I shall enter no further into that question, which evidently must be made the subject of further examination. ("Hear, hear.") But the right honorable gentleman gave us last year a case of boycotting which was touching to the last degree,—the case of the Galway midwife. (Cheers and laughter.) Does the right honorable gentleman say that the instance he selected last year—the instance of the Galway midwife—was well founded? (Cheers.)