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Transcribed from the 1898 T. Fisher Unwin edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf.org
THE REAL GLADSTONE.
* * * * *
An Anecdotal Biography.
* * * * *
BY
J. EWING RITCHIE
(CHRISTOPHER CRAYON),
AUTHOR OF 'CITIES OF THE DAWN,' 'CRYING FOR THE LIGHT,' ETC.
* * * * *
LONDON:
T. FISHER UNWIN,
PATERNOSTER SQUARE.
NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS.
1898.
PREFACE.
In this little work I have aimed to write, not a history or a biography,
not a criticism or a eulogy, but merely to give a few scattered notes,
gathered from many quarters, for the general public, rather than for the
professional politician. Lord Rosebery is reported to have said that it
will require many writers to give a complete biography of Mr. Gladstone.
He may be right; but the evil of it will be, the work, if exhaustive,
will be exhausting. Especially will it be so in these busy times, when
yesterday's biographies become stale to a public forgetful of the past,
caring only for the present, oblivious of the morrow. It is almost an
impertinence to speak of the many claims Mr. Gladstone has on a people
whom he has served so long. All I claim to do is to give a few data
which may help them to estimate the
'Heroic mind
Expressed in action, in endurance proved'--
in short, more or less imperfectly, 'The Real Gladstone.'
Clacton,
_May_, 1898.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. BIRTH AND SCHOOLDAYS 1
II. GLADSTONE AT OXFORD 9
III. ENTERS PARLIAMENT 16
IV. M.P. FOR OXFORD UNIVERSITY 38
V. MR. GLADSTONE'S ECCLESIASTICAL OPINIONS 47
VI. MR. GLADSTONE AND THE DIVORCE BILL 67
VII. POLITICS AGAIN 75
VIII. POLITICS AND THE IRISH CHURCH 92
IX. EDUCATION AND IRELAND 116
X. IRELAND UNDER MR. FORSTER 126
XI. HOME RULE 140
XII. MR. GLADSTONE'S SPEECHES 154
XIII. MR. GLADSTONE'S PUBLICATIONS 170
XIV. ANECDOTAL AND CHARACTERISTIC 191
XV. MR. GLADSTONE'S LETTERS 213
XVI. MR. GLADSTONE AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES 235
XVII. AT HOME 273
CHAPTER I.
BIRTH AND SCHOOLDAYS.
Many, many years ago England's foremost statesman, as George Canning then
was, distrusted by the multitude, feared by his colleagues, regarded with
suspicion by the First Gentleman of the Age--as it was the fashion to
term George the Magnificent, who was then seated on the British
throne--wearied of the strife and turmoil of party, spent a short time at
Seaforth House, bidding what he deemed his farewell to his Liverpool
correspondents. His custom, we are told, was to sit for hours gazing on
the wide expanse of waters before him. His had been a marvellous career.
Born out of the circle of the ruling classes, by his indomitable energy,
the greatness of his intellectual gifts, his brilliant eloquence, he had
lifted himself up above his contemporaries, and had become their leader;
and here he was about to quit the scene of his triumphs--to reign as
Viceroy in a far-off land. Canning, however, did not retire from the
Parliamentary arena, but stopped at home to be Premier of Great Britain
and Ireland, and to let all Europe know that this country had done with
the Holy Alliance; that a new and better spirit was walking the earth;
that the dark night of bigotry was past, and that the dawn of a better
day had come. As he sat there looking out over the waters, a little one
was to be seen playing below upon the sand. That little lad was the son
of Canning's host and friend, and his name was William Ewart Gladstone.
Does it not seem as if the little one playing on the sand had
unconsciously caught something of the genius, of the individuality, of
the eloquence, of the loftiness of aim, of the statesman who sat above
him overlooking the sea? Circumstances have much to do with the
formation of character. To the youthful Gladstone, Canning was a light,
a glory, and a star.
William Ewart Gladstone was born on December 29, 1809, at a house which
may still be seen, 62, Rodney Street, Liverpool. He was of Scotch
extraction, his father, a Liverpool merchant, having an estate in
Scotland. Mr. Gladstone senior lived to become one of the merchant
princes of Great Britain, a Baronet, and a Member of Parliament. He
died, at the advanced age of eighty-seven, in 1851. His wife was Anne,
daughter of Andrew Robertson, of Stornoway. They had six children;
William Ewart Gladstone was the third. The family were all brought up as
debaters. The children and their parents are said to have argued upon
everything. They would debate whether the meat should be boiled or
broiled, whether a window should be shut or opened, and whether it was
likely to be fine or wet next day.
As a little boy, Gladstone went to school at Seaforth, where the late
Dean Stanley was a pupil. The latter is responsible for the following:
'There is a small school near Liverpool at which Mr. Gladstone was
brought up before he went to Eton. A few years ago, another little boy
who was sent to this school, and whose name I will not mention, called
upon the old clergyman who was the headmaster. The boy was now a young
man, and he said to the old clergyman: "There is one thing in which I
have never in the least degree improved since I was at school--the
casting up of figures." "Well," replied the master, "it is very
extraordinary that it should be so, because certainly no one could be a
more incapable arithmetician at school than you were; but I will tell you
a curious thing. When Mr. Gladstone was at the school, he was just as
incapable at addition and subtraction as you were; now you see what he
has become--he is one of the greatest of our financiers."'
William Gladstone left home for Eton after the summer holidays of 1821,
the headmaster being Dr. Keate. Sir Roderick Murchison describes him as
'the prettiest little boy that ever went to Eton.' From the first he was
a hard student and well behaved, and exercised a good influence over his
schoolfellows. 'I was a thoroughly idle boy,' said the late Bishop
Hamilton of Salisbury, 'but I was saved from worse things by getting to
know Gladstone.' Another schoolfellow remembered how he turned his glass
upside down, and refused to drink a coarse toast proposed according to
custom at an election dinner. His most intimate friend was Arthur
Hallam, of whom he wrote an article in the _Daily Telegraph_, which
created universal admiration. He had the courage of his opinions, and
when bantered by some of his associates for his interfering on behalf of
some ill-used pigs, he offered to write his reply 'in good round hand
upon their faces.' He took no delight in games, but kept a private boat
for his own use, and was a great walker with his select friends. He was
accustomed on holidays to go as far as Salt Hall, to bully the fat
waiter, eat toasted cheese, and drink egg-wine--hence he seems to have
been familiarly known as Mr. Tipple. But he soon became especially
distinguished by his editing the _Eton Miscellany_, and for his skill in
debate at what was commonly called the Pop. Its meetings were generally
held over a cook-shop, and its politics were intensely Tory, though
current politics were forbidden subjects. His maiden speech was in
favour of education. Eton at that time was not a good school, writes Sir
Francis Doyle; but he testifies strongly to the virtues of the debating
society. He continues: 'In the debating society Mr. Gladstone soon
distinguished himself. I had the privilege of listening to his maiden
speech. It began, I recollect, with these words: "Sir, in this age of
increasing and still increasing civilization . . ." After Mr.
Gladstone's arrival, the debating society doubled and trebled itself in
point of numbers, and the discussions became much fuller of interest and
animation. Hallam and Mr. Gladstone took the lead.' Not content with
the regular debating society, Mr. Gladstone and a few others, such as
Miles Gaskell and Canning, established an inner one, held on certain
summer afternoons in the garden of one Trotman. Sir Francis continues:
'It happened that my tutor, Mr. Okes, rented a small garden at the rear
of Trotman's, and by some chance found himself there on the occasion of
one of these debates. To his surprise, he heard three or four boys on
the other side of the wall sneering, shouting, and boohooing in the most
unaccountable manner. There seemed but one conclusion to him as an
experienced Eton tutor--viz., that they were what we at the Custom-House
used somewhat euphemistically to term under the influence of liquor. He
thereupon summoned Mr. Gladstone to his study, listened gloomily and
reluctantly to his explanations and excuses, and all but handed over our
illustrious Premier, with his subordinate orators, to be flogged for
drunkenness.'
Dr. Wilkinson, in his 'Reminiscences of Eton,' gives a couplet and its
translation by Mr. Gladstone, when a boy at Eton:
'Ne sis O cera mollior,
Grandiloquus et vanus;
Heus bone non es gigas tu,
Et non sum ego nanus.'
'Don't tip me now, you lad of wax,
Your blarney and locution;
You're not a giant yet, I hope,
Nor I a Liliputian.'
As to the _Miscellany_, with which Mr. Gladstone had so much to do, Sir
Francis continues: 'It would have fallen to the ground but for Mr.
Gladstone's energy, perseverance, and tact. I may as well remark here
that my father--as I have said elsewhere, a man of great ability as well
as of great experience in life--predicted Mr. Gladstone's future eminence
from the manner in which he handled this somewhat tiresome business. "It
is not," he remarked, "that I think his papers better than yours or
Hallam's--that is not my meaning at all; but the force of character he
has shown in managing his subordinates (insubordinates I should rather
call them), and the combination of ability and power that he has made
evident, convince me that such a young man cannot fail to distinguish
himself hereafter."' Further, Sir Francis Doyle writes: 'I cannot take
leave of Mr. Gladstone's Eton career without recording a joke of his
which, even in this distance of time, seems calculated to thrill the
heart of Midlothian with horror and dismay. He was then, I must remind
my hearers, a high Tory, and, moreover, used to criticise my passion for
the turf. One day I was steadily computing the odds for the Derby, as
they stood in a morning newspaper. Now, it happened that the Duke of
Grafton owned a colt called Hampden, who figured in the aforesaid list.
"Well," cried Mr. Gladstone, reading off the odds, "Hampden, at any rate,
I see, is in his proper place between _Zeal_ and _Lunacy_!"'
The impression Gladstone made on his schoolfellows at Eton is clearly
shown in a letter of Miles Gaskell to his mother, pleading for his going
to Oxford rather than Cambridge: 'Gladstone is no ordinary individual. .
. . If you finally decide in favour of Cambridge, my separation from
Gladstone will be a source of great sorrow to me.' And Arthur Hallam
wrote: 'Whatever may be our lot, I am very confident that he is a bud
that will blossom with a richer fragrance than almost any whose early
promise I have witnessed.'
Gladstone, as has already been shown, was one of the principal members of
the staff of the _Eton Miscellany_. He was then seventeen, and in one of
the articles signed by him he expressed his fear that he would not be
able to direct public opinion into the right channel. He was aware that
merit was always rewarded, but he asked himself if he possessed that
merit. He dared not presume that he did possess it, though he felt
within him a something which made him hope to be able, without much
hindrance, to gain public favour, and, as Virgil said, 'celerare viam
rumore secundo.' We find Gladstone the Etonian expressing similar hopes
in an article on 'Eloquence.' The young author shows us himself and his
school-colleagues fascinated by the resounding debates in the House of
Commons, and dreaming, boy-like, of making a successful Parliamentary
debut, perhaps being offered a Government berth--a Secretaryship of
State, even the post of Prime Minister. While entertaining these
ambitious views Mr. Gladstone calmed his mind by 'taking to poetry.'
Several poetical pieces, including some verses on 'Richard
Coeur-de-Lion,' and an ode to 'The Shade of Wat Tyler,' date from this
period.
As a pendant to this fragmentary sketch of Mr. Gladstone's schooldays, we
may quote the lively description of the young editor given by Sir Francis
Doyle in 'A Familiar Epistle to W. E. Gladstone, Esq., M.P.,' published
in 1841. Sir Francis paints a delightful picture of the
_redacteur-en-chef_:
'Who, in his editorial den,
Clenched grimly an eradicating pen,
Confronting frantic poets with calm eye,
And dooming hardened metaphors to die.
Who, if he found his young adherents fail,
The ode unfinished, uncommenced the tale,
With the next number bawling to be fed,
And its false feeders latitant or fled,
Sat down unflinchingly to write it all,
And kept the staggering project from a fall.'
Dr. Furnivall, president of the Maurice Rowing Club, lately sent Mr.
Gladstone a copy of his letter on 'Sculls or Oars.' The ex-Prime
Minister, in returning his thanks for the letter, says: 'When I was at
Eton, and during the season, I sculled constantly, more than almost any
other boy in the school. Our boats then were not so light as they now
are, but they went along merrily, with no fear of getting them under
water.'