But that is an aside, meant only to introduce an old friend in a new
place. I was going to explain how it came about that, in the
mid-February issue of THE STRAND MAGAZINE, the name of Sir
Walter Barttelot should appear in the list of members of the present
House of Commons who had seats in the House in 1873, and that another
number of the Magazine has been issued without the correction, widely
made elsewhere, being noted. It is due simply to the fact of the
phenomenal circulation of a magazine which, in order to be out to date,
requires its contributors to send in their copy some two months in
advance.
It is not too late to say a word about the late member for Sussex, a
type rapidly disappearing from the Parliamentary stage. He entered the
House thirty-three years ago, when Lord Palmerston was Premier, Mr.
Gladstone was Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir George Cornewall Lewis
was at the Home Office, and Lord John Russell looked after Foreign
Affairs.
The House of Commons was a different place in those days, the heritage
of the classes, a closed door against any son of the masses. Sir Walter
was born a country gentleman, his natural prejudices not being smoothed
down by a term of service in the Dragoon Guards. He was not a brilliant
man, nor, beyond the level attainments of a county magistrate, an able
one. But he was thoroughly honest; suspected himself of ingrained
prejudice, and always fought against it. He suffered and learnt much
during his long Parliamentary life.
One of the earliest shocks dealt him was the appearance in the House of
Mr. Chamberlain, newly elected for Birmingham. It is difficult at this
time of day to realize the attitude in which the gentlemen of England
sixteen years ago stood towards the statesman who is now proudly
numbered in their ranks. When he presented himself to be sworn in, it
was one of the jokes of the day that Sir Walter Barttelot expected he
would approach the Table making "a cart-wheel" down the floor, as ragged
little boys disport themselves along the pavement when a drag or omnibus
passes. Sir Walter was genuinely surprised to find in the fearsome
Birmingham Radical a quietly-dressed, well-mannered, almost
boyish-looking man, who spoke in a clear, admirably pitched voice, and
opposed the Prisons Bill, then under discussion, on the very lines from
which Sir Walter had himself attacked it when it was brought in during
the previous Session.
[Illustration: "ANTICIPATION."]
It was characteristic of this fine old English gentleman that, having
done a man an injustice by unconsciously forming a wrong opinion about
him, he hastened forthwith to make amends.
[Illustration: "REALITY."]
"If," he said, when Mr. Chamberlain had resumed his seat, "the hon.
member for Birmingham will always address the House with the same
quietness, and with the same intelligence displayed on this occasion, I
can assure him the House of Commons will always be ready to listen to
him."
This is delicious, looking back over the years, watching Mr.
Chamberlain's soaring flight, and thinking of the good county member
thus loftily patronizing him. But it was a bold thing to be said at that
time of Mr. Chamberlain by Sir Walter Barttelot, and some friends who
sat near him thought his charity had led him a little too far.
The Sussex squire was of a fine nature--simple, ever ready to be moved
by generous impulses. There were two men coming across the moonlight
orbit of his Parliamentary life whose conduct he detested, and whose
influence he feared. One was Mr. Parnell, the other Mr. Bradlaugh. Yet
when the Commission acquitted Mr. Parnell of the charges brought against
him by the forged letters, Sir Walter Barttelot sought him out in the
Lobby, publicly shook hands with him, and congratulated him upon the
result of the inquiry. When Mr. Bradlaugh lay on his death-bed, on the
very night the House of Commons was debating the resolution to expunge
from the Order Book the dictum that stood there through eleven years,
declaring him ineligible either to take the oath or to make affirmation,
Sir Walter Barttelot appealed to the House unanimously to pass the
motion, concluding his remarks with emphatic expression of the hope that
"God would spare Mr. Bradlaugh's life."
[Illustration: "SHADOWS."]
Sir Walter never recovered from the blow dealt by the death of his son
in Africa, aggravated as the sorrow was by the controversy which
followed. Of late years he spoke very little; but in the Parliaments of
1874-80 and 1880-85 he was a frequent participator in debate. He was no
orator, nor did he contribute original ideas to current discussion.
Moreover, what he had to say was so tortured by the style of delivery
that it lost something of whatever force naturally belonged to it.
I have a verbatim note taken fifteen years ago of a speech delivered in
the House of Commons by Sir Walter, which faintly echoes an oratorical
style whose master is no longer with us. It lacks the inconsequential
emphasis, the terrific vigour of the gesture, and the impression
conveyed by the speaker's intense earnestness, that really, by-and-by,
he would say something, which compelled the attention of new members and
strangers in the gallery. But if the reader imagines portentous pauses
represented by the hyphens, and the deepening to tragic tones of the
words marked in italics, he may in some measure realize the effect.
The speech from which this passage was taken was delivered in debate
upon a resolution moved by Mr. Forster on the Cattle Plague Orders.
Whenever in the passage Mr. Forster is personally alluded to it is
necessary, in order to full realization of the scene, to picture Sir
Walter shaking a minatory forefinger, sideways, at the right hon.
gentleman, not looking at him, but pointing him out to the scorn of
mankind and the reprobation of country gentlemen: "Yet _he knows_ [here
the finger wags]--and--_knows full well_--in the--position he
occupies--making a proposal of this kind--must be one--which--must
be--fatal--to--the Bill. _No one knows better_ than the right hon.
gentleman--that when--he--raises a great question _of this kind_--upon a
Bill _of this sort_--_namely_ upon the second reading--of--this
Bill--that that proposal--that he makes--is absolutely against the
principle--of--the Bill. Now, I--de--ny that the principle--of--this
Bill--is confined--and _is to be found_--in the 5th Schedule--of--the
Bill."
A few minutes later an illustration occurred to the inspired orator, and
was thus brought under the notice of the entranced House:--
"Now, Denmark--it is a _remark_--able country, is _Den_--mark--for--we
have little--or no--dis--ease from _Den_--mark. The importation--from
_Den_--mark--is something like fifty-six--thousand--cattle--_and the_
curious part of it is this, that _nine_teen--thousand--of
these--were--cows--and _these cows_ came--to--this country--and--had
been allowed to go--_all over_--this country--and--I have never yet
heard--that these cows that--have so--gone over _this country_--have
spread any disease--in this country--."
This was a mannerism which amused the House at the time, but did nothing
to obscure the genuine qualities of Sir Walter, or lessen the esteem in
which he was held. It cannot be said that the House of Commons was
habitually moved by his argument in debate. But he was held in its
warmest esteem, and his memory will long be cherished as linked with the
highest type of English country gentleman.