In 1876 Mr. Chamberlain was elected a member of Parliament for
Birmingham, and his municipal career shortly came to an end. It may be
remembered that he made an unsuccessful attempt to represent Sheffield
some little time before he aspired to become a candidate for Birmingham.
He made a very plucky fight in the cutler constituency, and the
Sheffield blades were hardly so sharp as they might have been in
rejecting such an able and rising politician. Probably, if they could
have peered a little into the future, Mr. Chamberlain's first seat in
Parliament would not have been as a representative of Birmingham.
Mr. Chamberlain, however, was elected as one of the members of his
adopted town in the year mentioned, and, as I have said, he retired more
or less from municipal life. It may further be said that he relinquished
his local position at the right moment. He was lucky as to the time in
which he took up public life in Birmingham, and he was equally fortunate
in regard to the period at which he quitted it. He had set afloat great
local schemes, he had laboured assiduously for the good of the town, he
had attained the acme of his local popularity, he was admired even by
his opponents, and an imposing memorial was erected in his honour. After
this, anything that might have happened would have been in the nature of
an anti-climax so far as his local career was concerned.
When at some future day Mr. Chamberlain's life comes to be fully
written, it will probably be noted as something remarkable that he
should have done so much, and achieved such a position, while yet only a
young man. For be it remembered, that after he had been for three
successive years Mayor of Birmingham, had carried out the large and
important schemes associated with his name, and had become one of the
representatives of the town in Parliament, he was only forty years of
age. It will also be noted that very soon after making his appearance in
the House of Commons he quickly got his foot on the ladder and rapidly
mounted the rungs that lead to pre-eminence, and in a very few years
attained the position of Cabinet Minister.
What more he might have done for Birmingham it is impossible to
conjecture had he remained longer our local leader. But he was called up
higher. Perhaps this was lucky for him. The great enterprises, or at
least some of them, were only fairly started when he relinquished his
grasp of them, and it remained to be seen whether they were to prove all
they had been painted. If they succeeded, nothing could deprive him of
the honour and glory of having inaugurated them. If they failed, it was
in his power to say that had he remained to carry them out the results
would have been altogether different.
The working-out of some of his larger schemes and undertakings created,
as I have already intimated, considerable soreness and friction in
various quarters. They brought hardship on many persons and produced, at
any rate for a time, considerable ill-feeling and discontent. The piper
had to be paid for the great enterprises he had set afloat. With regard
to the gas and water purchases, the former has returned a profit to the
tune of £35,000 to £40,000 a year, and is now (in 1899) realising about
£50,000 per annum. The profits of the water scheme are still more or
less prospective, whilst the gains to be realised by his great
Improvement Scheme are in the dim and distant future.
Any adverse criticisms on these undertakings do not now directly affect
their author. He has taken up national in place of local work, and he
has left others in Birmingham to carry out more or less ably what he so
successfully began. Some of us are occasionally inclined to think that
his brilliant example and career have inflamed some of our remaining
public men with a desire to do heroics, and to follow his lofty lead in
the way of promoting large schemes.
For instance, the city is now committed to a huge expenditure for the
purpose of bringing a supply of water from Mid-Wales. There was
considerable opposition to this very costly project, but it was at last
carried, though only the future can decide whether it will prove to be
an altogether wise and prudent, not to say profitable, undertaking.
Experts and some far-seeing men are confident as to its future benefits.
We are to have a good supply of excellent water, and we are to save a
great many thousands a year in soap. Further, we shall be independent of
merely local supplies, which, we are told, will be quite inadequate for
our needs in future days. I am not in a position to controvert what has
been said in favour of the project, nor have I reason to doubt that the
scheme--especially under certain conditions--will be of great benefit
and value to the community in the coming by and by.
At the same time it may, perhaps, be doubted whether the undertaking,
like the Improvement Scheme, was fully comprehended in all its bearings
when it was decided to apply for an Act of Parliament to carry out the
Welsh water project. But its promoters having made up their minds upon
the question bustled, I won't say rushed, the proposal along, and before
many of the inhabitants were fairly awakened to what was being done, the
initial part of the business was accomplished.
When, however, the matter was brought out more into the open in the
Parliamentary Committee Rooms many of our townsmen opened their eyes and
their mouths and pressed for a little time for the further consideration
of this gigantic scheme. But the opposition was not strong enough to
procure any delay; the advocates of the proposal had our most
influential public men on their side, so the bill passed through
Parliament.
Occasionally now mutterings of doubt and dissatisfaction are heard, and
there are still those who prophesy evil in the future in consequence of
the enormous outlay to which the city is committed. If, however,
Birmingham grows and prospers all will be well. If otherwise--and the
last census did seem to indicate that our progress, as measured by
increasing population, was inclined to steady down--Birmingham will have
a huge debt in the future which even a large supply of good wholesome
water will not altogether liquidate.
Returning, however, to make a few further observations respecting Mr.
Chamberlain, it may be said now that the voices of those who had any
grudge against him for the daring innovations he made, and the bold
undertakings he promoted, have become nearly mute. There are, however,
some who speak disparagingly of him, partly, perhaps, because they are
envious of him, and cannot complacently realise his rapid rise to the
position of eminence he has attained.
Some of his former Radical friends and associates especially denounce in
no measured terms his unpardonable heresy in departing from what they
consider was his old political path. Vituperation is almost too mild a
term to describe their expressed disgust when they see one who was, they
believed, a man of the people consorting with royal dukes, belted earls,
and even with the Sovereign herself. This is too much for some of the
old full-blooded Radicals who are still found in our midst.
Very possibly some of these would do the same if they had the chance,
for your thorough-going Radical is often a curious creature. I remember
once being at a London theatre with a friend of mine who was a desperate
and despotic democrat, and who has been a leading light for years among
our advanced Radicals. Now it so happened that on the evening of our
visit the Prince of Wales was at the theatre we attended, and I was
greatly amused to notice how interested my democratic friend was in
watching the royal box. When the performance was nearing the end he
amused me still more by suggesting that we should hurry out and watch
the Prince drive off. "I do so like to see that sort of thing," he
added.
Mr. Chamberlain, however, is not the man to care what his foes or his
old political friends think or say about him. Water on a duck's back is,
I fancy, an oppressive agony compared with the right honourable
gentleman's feelings when he hears or reads the condemnatory and abusive
remarks of some of his former allies. If at any time he does perchance
feel at all stung by any of the adverse criticisms he hears or reads, he
takes care not to show that he is hurt.
Sparks will fly upwards, and Mr. Chamberlain has had his troubles, but
he does not wear his heart on his sleeve, or carry his woes into the
market place. I remember many years ago, under the stress of severe
domestic affliction, he retired into private life for a considerable
period, and it was said that during his self-imposed obscurity he sought
occupation and solace in the study of Blue Books. Anyway, when he
emerged into public life again he appeared as the author of a magazine
article of an advanced political character, which seemed to shew that he
had spent his solitude in studying and trying to solve some of the large
political problems of the day.
In contemplating Mr. Chamberlain's remarkable career and his high rise
in the political world, I am tempted to wonder whether he would have
built his large mansion near Birmingham if he could have foreseen the
immediate future. When he made up his mind to erect his house at a great
cost he perhaps scarcely dreamed he would so soon become a Cabinet
Minister. Possibly he looked forward to being little more than a local
member of Parliament--for he is not, I fancy, a dreamer of dreams--and
felt he should like to pitch his tent near to his constituency.
Anyway he built his house at Moor Green, which he called "Highbury"
after the name of the district in London where he was born. The house is
well situated, though in some respects hardly built upon a site worthy
of such a costly residence. It stands on a piece of rising ground, and
commands a good prospect. In the front of it are the Lickey and Clent
Hills some eight or ten miles away, but in the mid-distance is a
manufacturing suburb with several tall chimneys which are obtrusively
conspicuous, and which behave as factory chimneys generally do, scarcely
improving the prospect or the atmosphere. These disadvantages were, I
believe, pointed out to him before a brick was laid, but he had made up
his mind, and when it is made up I fancy it is made up very much.
The day may come when he may be able to spend but little of his time at
his Highbury home, but he has children who will keep the house inhabited
and well aired if he himself does not. His eldest son, Mr. Austen
Chamberlain, M.P. for one of the Worcestershire divisions, is in
training to walk in his father's footsteps, and to see eye to eye--or I
might say eye-glass to eye-glass--with him in matters political. What
the future of this eldest son may be it is not for me to forecast. He
has made an exceptionally good start, but he will have his work cut out
to follow successfully in the tread of such an able and distinguished
father.
When people see Mr. Chamberlain _père_ in such prosperity, flourishing
like a green bay tree, with a country house that has cost a fortune, a
town house to maintain, and plenty of money to do a fair amount of
globe-trotting, they wonder and ask how did he get such a lot of money?
Well, I cannot say, because I do not know, and if I did know I should
not tell. Doubtless he had something considerable from his father, who
must have been well off, but as there were some seven children to share
what was left by the late Mr. Chamberlain it may be assumed it was not
simply what he inherited that made him rich.
Doubtless his wealth was chiefly acquired by his shrewdness, business
capacity, and enterprise when he was a member of the firm of Nettlefold
and Chamberlain, and probably when he retired from that prosperous
business it was with a sum of money which would, perhaps, make some of
us blink with envious surprise if we knew the figure.
It is no secret that when he was engaged in business Mr. Chamberlain
adopted a policy which created much comment at one time, and was,
indeed, rather severely criticised. It was understood that he had set
his heart upon making the trade of his firm as much of a monopoly as
possible, and to this end he made it known to his local competitors that
they must sell their businesses to him or be prepared for certain
consequences if they did not.
Such a course of action was regarded as somewhat tyrannical, especially
by those directly concerned, and it made bad blood for a time between
Mr. Chamberlain and some of those with whom he was associated in public
work. After a while his trade opponents came to the idea that it would
be better to surrender at discretion than to enter into conflict with a
firm that was in such a strong position, and had such a big war chest at
its disposal.
It is hardly necessary to go into the merits of this trade question, or,
indeed, to say anything about it now, as it is all a matter of ancient
history. Indeed, I only refer to the matter because it formed an
incident in Mr. Chamberlain's Birmingham career and left its mark upon
the business that went up and the businesses that went down. Moreover,
it is a little instructive and edifying, as showing how Mr.
Chamberlain's combative nature manifested itself in his everyday life.
He recognised, as other men have done, that business is not a matter to
be played with, and that trade is in fact a commercial conflict in which
one must whip and the other be whipped, and as he felt himself in a
strong position, was on the box and had the whip in his hand, he was
resolved to drive and to choose the pace and the road.
Live and let live is, of course, a very good and proper maxim, but it
finds no place in the copy-book of sharp, smart, successful men of
business. It is their aim and purpose to get money--without harm to
others, if they can, if not, others must look out for themselves--that
is all. In one sense at all events Mr. Chamberlain's tactics were
justified. They were successful.