_HENRY CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN_
"He put his country first, his party next, and himself last." This,
the noblest eulogy which can be pronounced upon a politician, was
strikingly applicable to my old and honoured friend whose name
stands at the head of this page. And yet, when applied to him,
it might require a certain modification, for, in his view, the
interests of his country and the interests of his party were almost
synonymous terms--so profoundly was he convinced that freedom is
the best security for national welfare. When he was entertained at
dinner by the Reform Club on his accession to the Premiership, he
happened to catch my eye while he was speaking, and he interjected
this remark: "I see George Russell there. He is by birth, descent,
and training a Whig; but he is a little more than a Whig." Thus
describing me he described himself. He was a Whig who had marched
with the times from Whiggery to Liberalism; who had never lagged
an inch behind his party, but who did not, as a rule, outstep it.
His place was, so to speak, in the front line of the main body,
and every forward movement found him ready and eager to take his
place in it. His chosen form of patriotism was a quiet adhesion to
the Liberal party, with a resolute and even contemptuous avoidance
of sects and schisms.
He was born in 1836, of a mercantile family which had long flourished
in Glasgow, and in 1872 he inherited additional wealth, which
transformed his name from Campbell to Campbell-Bannerman--the familiar
"C.-B." of more recent times. Having graduated from Trinity College,
Cambridge, he entered Parliament as Member for the Stirling Burghs
in 1868, and was returned by the same delightful constituency till
his death, generally without a contest. He began official life in
Gladstone's first Administration as Financial Secretary to the War
Office, and returned to the same post after the Liberal victory of
1880. One of the reasons for putting him there was that his tact, good
sense, and lightness in hand enabled him to work harmoniously with
the Duke of Cambridge--a fiery chief who was not fond of Liberals,
and abhorred prigs and pedants. In 1884, when Sir George Trevelyan
was promoted to the Cabinet, Campbell-Bannerman was made Chief
Secretary for Ireland, and in that most difficult office acquitted
himself with notable success. Those were not the days of "the Union
of Hearts," and it was not thought necessary for a Liberal Chief
Secretary to slobber over murderers and outrage-mongers. On the other
hand, the iron system of coercion, which Mr. Balfour administered so
unflinchingly, had not been invented; and the Chief Secretary had
to rely chiefly on his own resources of firmness, shrewdness, and
good-humour. With these Campbell-Bannerman was abundantly endowed,
and his demeanour in the House of Commons was singularly well adapted
to the situation. When the Irish members insulted him, he turned
a deaf ear. When they pelted him with controversial questions, he
replied with brevity. When they lashed themselves into rhetorical
fury, he smiled and "sat tight" till the storm was over. He was
not a good speaker, and he had no special skill in debate; but he
invariably mastered the facts of his case. He neither overstated
nor understated, and he was blessed with a shrewd and sarcastic
humour which befitted his comfortable aspect, and spoke in his
twinkling eyes even when he restrained his tongue.
The Liberal Government came to an end in June, 1885. The "Home
Rule split" was now nigh at hand, and not even Campbell-Bannerman's
closest friends could have predicted the side which he would take.
On the one hand, there was his congenital dislike of rant and gush,
of mock-heroics and mock-pathetics; there was his strong sense
for firm government, and there was his recent experience of Irish
disaffection. These things might have tended to make him a Unionist,
and he had none of those personal idolatries which carried men
over because Mr. Gladstone, or Lord Spencer, or Mr. Morley had
made the transition. On the other hand, there was his profound
conviction--which is indeed the very root of Whiggery--that each
nation has the right to choose its own rulers, and that no government
is legitimate unless it rests on the consent of the governed.
This conviction prevailed over all doubts and difficulties, and
before long it became known that Campbell-Bannerman had, in his own
phrase, "found salvation." There were those who were scandalized
when they heard the language of Revivalism thus applied, but it
exactly hit the truth as regards a great many of the converts to
Home Rule. In a very few cases--_e.g._, in Gladstone's own--there
had peen a gradual approximation to the idea of Irish autonomy,
and the crisis of December, 1885, gave the opportunity of avowing
convictions which had long been forming. But in the great majority
of cases the conversion was instantaneous. Men, perplexed by the
chronic darkness of the Irish situation, suddenly saw, or thought
they saw, a light from heaven, and were converted as suddenly as
St. Paul himself. I remember asking the late Lord Ripon the reason
which had governed his decision. He answered: "I always have been
for the most advanced thing in the Liberal programme, and Home Rule
is the most advanced thing just now, so I'm for it." I should not
wonder if a similar sentiment had some influence in the decision,
arrived at by Campbell-Bannerman, who, when Gladstone formed his
Home Rule Cabinet in 1886, entered it as Secretary of State for
War. He went out with his chief in the following August, and in
the incessant clamour for and against Home Rule which occupied
the next six years he took a very moderate part.
When Gladstone formed his last Administration, Campbell-Bannerman
returned to the War Office, and it was on a hostile vote concerning
his Department that the Government was defeated in June, 1895.
He resented this defeat more keenly than I should have expected
from the habitual composure of his character; but it was no doubt
the more provoking because in the previous spring he had wished
to succeed Lord Peel as Speaker. He told me that the Speakership
was the one post in public life which he should have most enjoyed,
and which would best have suited his capacities. But his colleagues
declared that he could not be spared from the Cabinet, and, true to
his fine habit of self-effacement, he ceased to press his claim.
In October, 1896, Lord Rosebery, who had been Premier from 1894
to 1895, astonished his party by resigning the Liberal leadership.
Who was to succeed him? Some cried one thing and some another. Some
were for Harcourt, some for Morley, some for a leader in the House
of Lords. Presently these disputations died down; what logicians
call "the process of exhaustion" settled the question, and
Campbell-Bannerman--the least self-seeking man in public life--found
himself the accepted leader of the Liberal party. The leadership
was an uncomfortable inheritance. There was a certain section of
the Liberal party which was anxious that Lord Rosebery should return
on his own terms. There were others who wished for Lord Spencer,
and even in those early days there were some who already saw the
makings of a leader in Mr. Asquith. And, apart from these sectional
preferences, there was a crisis at hand, "sharper than any two-edged
sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit,
and of the joints and marrow."
The Eastern Question of 1876 had rent the Liberal party once; the
Irish Question of 1886 had rent it again; and now for the third
time it was rent by the South African Question. Holding that the
South African War was a wanton crime against freedom and humanity,
I wished that my leader could declare himself unequivocally against
it, but he felt bound to consider the interests of the Liberal party
as a whole rather than those of any particular section which he
might personally favour. As the campaign advanced, and the motives
with which it had been engineered became more evident, his lead
became clearer and more decisive. What we read about Concentration
Camps and burnt villages and Chinese labour provoked his emphatic
protest against "methods of barbarism," and those Liberals who
enjoyed the war and called themselves "Imperialists" openly revolted
against his leadership. He bore all attacks and slights and
impertinences with a tranquillity which nothing could disturb, but,
though he said very little, he saw very clearly. He knew exactly
the source and centre of the intrigues against his leadership,
and he knew also that those intrigues were directed to the end of
making Lord Rosebery again Prime Minister. The controversy about
Tariff Reform distracted general attention from these domestic
cabals, but they were in full operation when Mr. Balfour suddenly
resigned, and King Edward sent for Campbell-Bannerman. Then came
a critical moment.
If Mr. Balfour had dissolved, the Liberal leader would have come
back at the head of a great majority, and could have formed his
Administration as he chose; but, by resigning, Mr. Balfour compelled
his successor to form his Administration out of existing materials.
So the cabals took a new form. The Liberal Imperialists were eager
to have their share in the triumph, and had not the slightest scruple
about serving under a leader whom, when he was unpopular, they had
forsaken and traduced. Lord Rosebery put himself out of court by a
speech which even Campbell-Bannerman could not regard as friendly;
but Mr. Asquith, Mr. Haldane, and Sir Edward Grey were eager for
employment. The new Premier Was the most generous-hearted of men,
only too ready to forgive and forget. His motto was _Alors comme
alors_, and he dismissed from consideration all memories of past
intrigues. But, when some of the intriguers calmly told him that
they would not join his Government unless he consented to go to
the House of Lords and leave them to work their will in the House
of Commons, he acted with a prompt decision which completely turned
the tables.
The General Election of January, 1906, gave him an overwhelming
majority; but in one sense it came too late. His health was a good
deal impaired, and he was suffering from domestic anxieties which
doubled the burden of office. Lady Campbell-Bannerman died, after
a long illness, in August, 1906, but he struggled on bravely till
his own health rather suddenly collapsed in November, 1907. He
resigned office on the 6th of April, 1908, and died on the 22nd.
His brief Premiership had not been signalized by any legislative
triumphs. He was unfortunate in some of his colleagues, and the first
freshness of 1906 had been wasted on a quite worthless Education
Bill. But during his term of office he had two signal opportunities
of showing the faith that was in him. One was the occasion when, in
defiance of all reactionary forces, he exclaimed, "La Duma est morte!
Vive la Duma!" The other was the day when he gave self-government to
South Africa, and won the tribute thus nobly rendered by General
Smuts: "The Boer War was supplemented, and compensated for, by one
of the wisest political settlements ever made in the history of
the British Empire, and in reckoning up the list of Empire-builders
I hope the name of Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, who brought into
being a united South Africa, will never be forgotten."