Physically, Arthur Griffith was a small man. His poor eyesight necessitated thick glasses but, despite this, he was an avid reader, and spent his life working with the written word. Although his Achilles tendons were contracted, which caused him to walk with an odd gait, some of his favourite pastimes involved vigorous physical activity: handball, swimming, cycling and hill-walking.
He had a circle of close friends, some of whom, like Henry Kenny, Oliver St John Gogarty, Seamus O'Sullivan and James Stephens, have left behind eloquent testimonies of their regard for him. He liked to sit with his friends in a pub - the Bailey was his favourite - and listen to their scintillating conversation. He attracted as contributors to his papers some of the foremost creative writers of his day, such as W.B. Yeats, George Russell (AE), O'Sullivan, Stephens, Padraic Colum, Robert Lynd, George Bermingham and George Moore. As activists on behalf of his various organisations he attracted a similarly impressive list: William Bulfin, The O'Rahilly, P.S. O'Hegarty, Bulmer Hobson, Sean MacDermott, Eamon Ceannt, Edward Martyn, Maud Gonne, Countess Markievicz, Jennie Wyse Power, Sean T. O'Kelly, Denis McCullough, George Gavan Duffy and W.T. Cosgrave.
Griffith counted a large number of women among his friends, acquaintances and co-workers. Gonne, Markievicz and Wyse Power have already been mentioned. What is especially noteworthy is the number of women from unionist and landed-gentry background who were converted to Irish nationalism by his writings and some, at least, by his personality. The Williams sisters, Sydney Gifford and Maire de Buitleir are the names that immediately spring to mind.
What must have helped was that his attitude to women was well in advance of his time. They could join his organisations on equal terms with men and he fully supported the vote for women.
Brief glimpses may be gleaned into the tenderness of his marriage to Maud Sheehan. Their courtship lasted 10 years and they waited a further six years after their engagement before they were in a position to marry. By then, Griffith was almost 40. Their married life was short and, for the last half of it, because of his active political involvement, he must have been away from home for long periods. His widow deeply regretted how little time he had to spend with their two children.
Maud Sheehan came from a musical family and this was the main interest the couple shared (she had absolutely no time for politics). A lover of his native city, one of his favourite pursuits as a boy was to listen to street-singers, and he had a wealth of knowledge of Dublin street ballads. In fact, he knew an enormous amount about Irish patriotic ballads and his Ballad History of Ireland, which ran in the United Irishman for more than a year, reflects this passion and knowledge. There was no doubt in his mind about the power of song, because he once declared that a good song was worth a dozen pamphlets.
Griffith was shy and retiring and appeared reserved to those who knew him only slightly. This aspect of his personality disappeared when he found himself in the company of children. That he had such little time to enjoy his own children's company is all the sadder as a result. His manner was imperturbable and he kept his emotions firmly under control. There was no fanaticism and he distrusted empty oratory.
He was modest and self-effacing with no desire to lead the organisations he brought into existence. No sense of social superiority ever tainted him. Determination, strength of will and patient tenacity in the face of setbacks seem to have been at his core. He was prepared for the slow, gradual slog in order to bring his policies to fruition, and not impatient for an instant solution. He was unswerving in pursuit of a course he believed to be right. A strong individualism caused him to be sceptical about organisations. Integrity and generosity were further features of his personality.
Inevitably, he displayed some negative traits. He could be assertive and narrow-minded, and has been accused of being prone to strong dislikes. Those who found him reserved complained about his taciturnity. No doubt he was obdurate at times and unreceptive to advice. He may well also have been a poor judge of character. Some with little sympathy for him have described him as aggressive, harsh, pugnacious and suspicious.
He has been accused of lacking in humour, but anyone who reads his work or what some who knew him well have written about him, will soon be disabused of this notion. Jokes, skits and whimsical stories are scattered throughout his newspapers. He composed many satirical pieces on some of the controversial issues of his time which still make amusing reading.
The literary quality of his output is impressive. This is all the more striking when one considers how little formal schooling he had. Granted he read widely, but this cannot fully explain his ability to write well, which must have been an innate gift. Many of the characteristics of the finest prose writers can be found in Griffith's articles and editorials. Jonathan Swift's savage indignation and John Mitchel's biting tone are evident in these, but he was capable of moving, lyrical composition as well. Some of the passages about his time in South Africa reveal the variety of mood and style he could achieve in his writing. Emily Bronte might well have had Griffith in mind when she wrote: "Riches I hold in light esteem". Nothing, and least of all money, could divert him from the task he had set himself. His life of impoverished integrity is incomprehensible except in that context. He ran his newspapers on a shoestring, and even tried to mortgage the house, given to his wife and himself as a wedding present, to keep his papers going. Despite the time spent on his Dail work in his last years he refused to draw a salary.
Although he had nurtured Sinn Fein through its darkest period, from 1911 to 1916, to see it become a nation-wide organisation in 1917, he readily made way for de Valera as leader. To quote Emily Bronte again: And lust of fame was but a dream That vanished with the morn.
Dr Johnson rather unkindly dismissed patriotism as "the last refuge of a scoundrel". Awful deeds have been done in the name of patriotism, but for Griffith it was a case of "my country first, last and always".
It was a tragedy that he died when he did. He had promised his wife that she would get her wish, in that he would retire from politics in August 1922. His promise came true in a way he had certainly not intended or envisaged.
But, in a sense, his life-work was done. Ireland had achieved independence, not in the form, and certainly not in the circumstances that Griffith would have wished.
But the foundation had been laid, and the way was left clear for others to build on it.
Brian Maye's biography of Arthur Griffith will be published in September.