CHAPTER XI

(1905-1908)

A MINISTER

“If they take part in public life, the effect is never

indifferent. They either appear like ministers of divine

vengeance, and their course through the world is marked by

desolation and oppression, by poverty and servitude, or they are

the guardian angels of the country they inhabit, busy to avert

even the most distant evil, and to maintain and procure peace,

plenty, and the greatest of human blessings,

liberty.”—BOLINGBROKE in _The Patriot King_ on his “Chosen

Men.”

THE Department which fell to the control of Mr. Lloyd George on the

formation of the 1905 Liberal Administration presented no easy or simple

task. The Board of Trade stood at a moment which comes to every great

office of State—a moment when it may either increase or decrease,

gather power or lose it. Its official name gave little clue to the

distracting combination of powers varying from complete control at one

end to vague influence at the other. British Departments are like

wild-flowers—they grow and spread without plan or scheme, just as the

chance caprice of Parliament or some fugitive Ministry may decide. It is

often just a throw of the dice as to what new powers or functions may be

laid upon them.

The Board of Trade had withered under the shadow of the great fiscal

deadlock of the previous three years (1903-6). Poised between two

theories of commerce, it had lingered in the “doldrums,” like a ship

waiting for a wind.

Thus there awaited in the pigeon-holes of the office a great number of

untouched and unfinished projects, loose ends of legislation, belated

steps towards giving method and authority to the powers of that great

Department.

For the Board of Trade reflected in every branch of its administrative

powers the spirit of the age in which it had grown up—the timid,

tentative, apologetic touch of the nineteenth-century administrator. The

scope of its powers, indeed, bulked vast and tremendous—extending from

bankrupt firms at one end to shipping, railways, and labour at the

other; but over all these branches of national life its sway was mild

and illusive. The very Consuls who control our trade abroad were

appointed and controlled by another Department.[50]

The Labour Department, founded in a spasm of progress, was still mainly

advisory. British railways had to be supplicated rather than controlled.

The great shipping interests had discovered new sea-ways through

obsolete laws.

Mr. Lloyd George soon realised the opportunity that lay to his hand. The

time had come to give to the Board of Trade a new grasp and stretch of

authority. New laws must be passed. But also, and even more important,

there must be a new spirit in the administration of the laws that

existed.

He did not act in a hurry. He spent his first weeks in a thorough study

of the work of the Board. He appeared little in Parliament. He took the

sensible course of first learning from the able officials of the Board

the general outlines of its functions and problems.

Then, after some months, he began to legislate; but, before bringing in

his Bills, he developed what was then a new system of preparation and

anticipation.

It had been too often the custom of Ministers in such Departments as the

Board of Trade to frame Bills without consulting the interests

concerned. Here was the truly “bureaucratic” spirit of the olden

days—to assume that the Civil Service must of necessity know better

than the public about their own business—to enforce on great private

interests measures as to which they had never been asked their opinions,

to wait for the inevitable complaints and grievances until it was too

late to remedy them without public confessions of ignorance and folly.

Such methods have been responsible for many bad laws and for many

parliamentary disasters.

Mr. Lloyd George changed all that. Take the first question in which he

decided to legislate—the control of merchant shipping. Here he found

things in a very bad mess. The British merchant sailor was still far

behind most British land-workers both in comfort and in wages. While

fabulous fortunes were being made by shipowners, sailors were still

badly fed, badly housed, irregularly paid, often cheated of their pay

altogether. The result was that the more prosperous classes of British

wage-earners were refusing to go to sea or leaving the sea as soon as

possible. Our gigantic merchant fleet, the pride of the British Empire,

was already half manned by foreign seamen, whose ignorance of the

English language often put English ships and lives in grievous peril.

Many efforts had been made to remedy these things—one by Mr.

Chamberlain, still remembered at the Board of Trade as the best

administrator up to that time. Mr. Lloyd George proposed to carry Mr.

Chamberlain’s efforts to completion.

What had defeated all efforts up to the present moment was the powerful

resistance of the shipowners in the House of Commons, where the rights

of the many too often escheat to the bold and flagrant championship of

the few.

Mr. Lloyd George determined to call the shipowners together and to

consult them before he introduced his Bill into the House. But, if he

was to consult the shipowners, he must also consult the sailors. So he

ended by consulting both interests outside the House; and this sensible

method proved so successful in the case of shipping that it soon became

his favourite method in preparing all his Bills, and has now been

adopted by many Ministers as the obvious and necessary preliminary to

legislation.

In the Merchant Shipping Act of 1906, indeed, he carried this process a

step further. Not only did he, by agreement, establish for the British

sailor a new charter of rights,[51] but he also effected a new

load-waterline agreement with foreign Governments. Thereby he

established a new precedent for international legislation.

The working of the famous “Load-line”—so dramatically secured by that

fervent and determined man, Mr. Samuel Plimsoll, a generation

before—had undoubtedly saved thousands of innocent lives. It had given

the seamen a new guarantee of security. There was always the fact that a

ship could not be weighted down below a certain depth. But meanwhile a

new evil had arisen. Foreign ships, without the British “Load-line,”

were using British ports to snatch British trade. Deeply laden

“foreigners” could afford to carry goods at lower freights; and Great

Britain was penalised for her humanity.

Mr. Lloyd George determined to stop this. He compromised the

“Load-line”—raising it slightly for British ships, but enforcing this

modified line on all ships that came to British ports. There were

protests from foreign Powers. Mr. Lloyd George proceeded to negotiate.

He bargained with the right of entry to British ports, and finally he

came to an agreement with most of the great seafaring nations which

enforced the new “Load-line” on all ships trading to Great Britain.

Such was the first of the new measures which came from the Board of

Trade under his presidency and passed through the House of Commons in

October of 1906. Now for the first time piloting his own measures from

the Treasury Bench, Mr. Lloyd George showed new parliamentary powers

that astonished the critics. The wiseacres had shaken their heads. “Too

much of a rebel to govern!” they had said. “So accustomed to

obstruction, that he will obstruct himself!” said others, scoffing. But

they were wrong. He developed new powers of adroit persuasiveness that

surprised lookers-on. He was patient and conciliatory. He could be firm

when necessary; but at other times he seemed all open-mindedness. He had

won his way very often just when every one else thought that he had lost

it. He knew when to sacrifice details in order to win principles.

Now that the Board of Trade found that they had secured a good

law-maker, the progressive officials who distinguish that Department

pressed on him other tasks. There was, for instance, the question of the

law of patents, crying for consolidation and amendment. There, too,

legislation was long overdue.

Consolidation was easy. But, in looking into the state of the law, Mr.

Lloyd George soon discovered that there was one glaring British

grievance which no Minister had yet dared to touch. Mr. Lloyd George

refused to be paralysed by the terrorism of the Protection controversy.

He has never admitted the view that Free Trade means discrimination

against your own country.

And yet that was how the existing patent law worked.

For he found that a custom had grown up by which foreign firms would

employ a British citizen to take out a British patent with the

deliberate intention to work it abroad. In that case it could not be

worked in Great Britain. For there was actually nothing in British law

to prevent this British privilege from becoming a direct cause of loss

to British trade.

This seemed to him intolerable. Accordingly, he introduced into the

Patents Bill which he brought into the House in 1907 the following

clause:[52]

“At any time, not less than four years after the date of a

patent, and not less than one year after the passing of this

Act, any person may apply to the Comptroller for the revocation

of the patent on the ground that the patented article or process

is manufactured or carried on exclusively or mainly outside the

United Kingdom.”

Looking back on this clause now, with all the excellent results that

have flowed from it,[53] it is clear that it represented the merest

justice to the British trader. The Tariff Reformers congratulated Mr.

Lloyd George on conversion; the Free Traders reproached him for

desertion. Neither had any leg to stand on. The mere fact of granting

patents is, in a sense, a form of protection for the patentee. But to

ask that a nation should grant so great a privilege in order that it

should be used against its own citizens is surely the very ecstasy of

“freedom.”

Then, just before leaving the Board of Trade, he finally settled up the

Port of London by buying out the Dock Companies. There again he arranged

the terms of purchase by bargaining before he brought in his Bill.

One company stood out. He went straight on without that company. It was

awkward; but it would have been fatal to show weakness. He was just

about to move the Second Reading of the Bill, leaving that company out,

when the announcement of its agreement to his terms was brought to him

in his room at the House of Commons before he went in to the Committee.

Thus a problem was settled which had defied several Governments and

paralysed London as a port.

“Not an ideal way of legislating,” it will be said. Certainly not. Nor

was then our Parliament an ideal legislative machine.

In a speech made at Liverpool on May 24th, 1906, Mr. Lloyd George

described how the menace of the Lords then threw its shadow over all

Liberal policy. He told how, in framing every Bill, the Cabinet, even

before the Bill was drafted, had to take the attitude of the Upper

Chamber into consideration.

This was, in fact, still his own governing consideration in these Board

of Trade measures. He was soon to show that he was quite ready to fight

the Lords when it seemed to him a necessary stroke of high policy. But

he did not believe in half-defiances. So he modelled these Board of

Trade Bills to pass by agreement.

But, after all, it was not in law-making so much as in administration

that he was destined to make his highest reputation at the Board of

Trade. It was not only that he sent into every tentacle of the great

organism a new vigour and intensity of purpose; it was also that he

showed in a very high degree a genius for conciliation in great labour

disputes.

It was in the late autumn of 1907 that there came to him the great test

of the threatened Railway Strike. He had just achieved in October a very

surprising triumph of peace-making at the Welsh Convention summoned at

Cardiff to denounce him for some supposed weakening on Welsh

Disestablishment. They were just preparing to sacrifice him with his own

borrowed weapons when he appeared in the midst of them, claimed to

speak, and won them over to spare him.

But all Englishmen always took it for granted that Mr. Lloyd George

could manage Welshmen. English railwaymen and English railway directors

seemed a very different affair. For both parties seemed very resolute;

and the powers of the Board of Trade seemed remarkably weak.

But the crisis was too grave to consider legal powers. The country was

faced with a paralysis of transport. Such an event might prove a

national danger.

Mr. Lloyd George swiftly acted for the nation. With no power to enforce

his summons, he boldly called directors and men to the Board of Trade to

discuss the situation. There he held them for days, prolonging the

discussion by every resource of persuasion until the moods of both

parties were cooled to a more reasonable temperature. Then he made his

proposal—the famous Conciliation Boards—and he won both parties to

agreement.

Those who, like myself, saw much of him from day to day during that

struggle could not but be amazed at his resourcefulness and persistence.

He appeared never to contemplate the possibility of a breakdown. He

seemed one of that rare band of whom the Roman poet said—“They can

because they think they can.” It was impossible to dream of failure in

his presence. Infected by his magic faith, weak men grew strong and

sceptics radiated with faith. He appeared one of those of whom, in a

famous poem, a great English singer has said[54]—

“Languor is not in your heart,

Weakness is not in your word,

Weariness not on your brow.

Ye alight in our van! at your voice,

Panic, despair, flee away.”

Here was a tangle of time-worn hatreds: the men were suspicious and

resentful, the directors dogged and prejudiced. How bring together human

beings so divided? How bridge such a gulf?

Well, first he brought into the conferences those men who stood between

the quarrelling parties—the railway managers. Here he found a

remarkable body of Englishmen—alert, resourceful, self-made,

unprejudiced.

How often he used to praise those railway managers! Ten years after, in

a still greater emergency, his mind went back to those men; and in the

gravest crisis of the Great War he called them in to aid the

hard-pressed British lines in France.

What is it that has made Mr. Lloyd George so great a conciliator?

It is not merely his power of using speech for purposes of persuasion.

“Speakers attack too much,” he often used to say. “They ought to aim at

persuasion.” That has always been his own central aim in the use of

speech.

There is also in him an even greater power—the power of making two

conflicting parties see one another’s point of view. That is partly

because they learn to see it through his eyes. It is like some

arrangement of looking-glasses in which men see one another’s faces at a

new and more attractive angle. There, again, he works on a theory. “Men

quarrel too much,” I have heard him say. “They become slaves to words

and phrases. They miss the reality.”

It was such beliefs and perceptions that have so often made him

persevere in peace-making when all others have given up hope.

In this case of the Railway Strike of 1907 it earned him the universal

applause of the nation, voiced by King Edward, who always entertained a

keen and subtle admiration for good peace-making. For a few brief months

Mr. Lloyd George was the hero of the nation. He seemed almost a case for

the warning—“Beware when all men speak well of thee!”

But in the career of this man of storm it is always fated that no

peaceful interval lasts long. On November 6th he settled the railway

strike; on November 30th he lost his eldest daughter Mair, the apple of

his eye. While still bowed with that bitter grief, in December he was

called to stop a threatened strike in the cotton trade. He is wont to

say that it was the only thing that saved him. But there was clearly to

be no peace for him.

Then, four months later, in April 1908, Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman,

broken by work and domestic sorrow, resigned the Premiership, and Mr.

Asquith stepped into his place. Mr. John (now Lord) Morley was offered

the Chancellorship of the Exchequer, but he refused it, and that high

post was now allotted to Mr. Lloyd George.

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[50] The Foreign Office, which still (1920) appoints them.

[51] A fixed standard of food and ship accommodation, a certificated

cook on board ship, a guarantee that distressed seamen should be looked

after and abandoned seamen paid, a restriction on the scandalous

practices of overloading and under-manning, and on the employment of

foreign sailors.

[52] Clause 27, Patents Act of 1907.

[53] Many patents are now being worked in England which were previously

worked abroad.

[54] Matthew Arnold in “Rugby Chapel.”

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