On that date the Grand Committee met to take stock informally of the position, especially in regard to the procedure of the more detailed sub-committees, and to face the fact that a grave misfortune had befallen us. Sir Alexander McDowell had been prevented by illness from attending any of the meetings. He had no further part in the Convention’s work, and died before it ended.
Redmond in a confidential talk spoke of his absence as lamentable. The two had arranged—on the Belfast man’s proposal—to meet for private interviews before the Nine came together. Neither had control of the forces for which he spoke; but both stood out, by everyone’s consent, from the rest of the assembly. It is impossible to say how much they might have achieved had they come to an understanding; but assuredly no other representative of the North spoke with the same self-confidence or the same weight of personality as Sir Alexander McDowell. My own feeling about him—if it be worth while to record a personal impression—was that he was a man with the instinct for carrying big things through—that the problem tempted him, as a task which called for the exertion of powers which he was conscious of possessing. In losing him we lost certainly the strongest will in his group, perhaps the strongest in the Convention; and it was a will for settlement. It was, too, a will less hampered by regard for public opinion than that of any popularly elected representative man can be. He had, I think, also eminently the persuasive gift which is not only inclined to give and take but can impart that disposition to others.
Mr. Pollock, who replaced him, was an able man, but singularly lacking in this quality. He held his own views clearly and strongly, but his method of exposition accentuated differences: it had always a note of asperity, though this was certainly not deliberate. One of the pleasant memories which remains with me is of a day when debate grew acrimonious and hot words were used. Mr. Pollock refused to reply to some phrases which might have been regarded as taunts, because, he said, “I have made friendships here which I never expected to make, and I value them too much to risk the loss of them.” That friendly temper, combined with his ability, made him a valuable member of this Convention: but for the critical work of bringing men’s minds together, of sifting the essential from the unessential, he was a bad exchange for Sir Alexander McDowell.
Redmond said to me that he had found Mr. Barrie much more conciliatory than in the earlier and public stages. He was delighted with Lord Midleton, who was, he said, “showing an Irish spirit which I never expected";—standing up for the claims of an Irish Parliament if there was to be one. In the discussion, however, one man, Bishop O’Donnell, had been “head and shoulders above everyone else.”
Argument had ranged about the question of customs and excise. This was the dividing line. But when at last a deadlock was definitely reached, the Ulster position was stated in a letter which refused to concede to an Irish Parliament the control of either direct or indirect taxation. It was to be a Parliament with no taxing power at all.


