Lord Winchilsea sat in this same Parliament as Mr. Finch-Hatton. He
early made his mark by a maiden speech delivered on one of the
interminable debates on Egypt. He was content to leave it there, never,
as far as I remember, again taking part in set debate. His appearance
was striking. Many years after, when he had succeeded to the earldom, I
happened to be present when he rose from the luncheon-table at
Haverholme Priory to acknowledge the toast of his health. By accident or
design he stood under a contemporary portrait of his great ancestor,
Christopher Hatton, Queen Elizabeth's Lord Chancellor. The likeness
between the founder of the family and a scion separated by the space of
more than three hundred years was almost startling.
Lord Winchilsea aged rapidly. When he made his maiden speech in the
House of Commons he had not advanced beyond the stage of the young
dandy. His face was a shade of ivory, the pallor made more striking by
the coal-black hair. His attitude, like his dress and everything about
him, was carefully studied. His left hand, rigidly extended, lightly
rested behind his back. His right hand, when not in action, hid his
finger-tips in the breast of a closely-buttoned frock-coat.
Occasionally, he withdrew his hand and made stiff gestures in the air as
if he were writing hieroglyphs. Occasionally, he emphasized a point by
slightly bowing to the amused audience.
The matter of his speech was excellent, its form, occasionally, as
extravagant as his getup. The House roared with laughter when Mr.
Finch-Hatton, pointing stiff finger-tips at Mr. Gladstone smiling on the
Treasury Bench, invited members to visit the Premier on his uneasy couch
and watch him moaning and tossing as the long procession of his pallid
victims passed before him. This reminiscence of a scene from "Richard
III." was a great success, though not quite in the manner Mr. Hatton,
working it out in his study, had forecast.
A man of great natural capacity, wide culture, and, as was shown in his
later connection with agriculture, of indomitable industry, he would,
having lived down his extravagancies, have made a career in the Commons.
Called thence by early doom he went to the Lords, and was promptly and
finally extinguished.