An Old Friend Goes to Windsor
"And what are they going to make you now?"
This question was asked of her husband by a lady with whom perhaps
the readers of this volume may have already formed some acquaintance.
Chronicles of her early life have been written, at any rate
copiously. The lady was the Duchess of Omnium, and her husband was of
course the Duke. In order that the nature of the question asked by
the duchess may be explained, it must be stated that just at this
time the political affairs of the nation had got themselves tied up
into one of those truly desperate knots from which even the wisdom
and experience of septuagenarian statesmen can see no unravelment.
The heads of parties were at a standstill. In the House of Commons
there was, so to say, no majority on either side. The minds of
members were so astray that, according to the best calculation that
could be made, there would be a majority of about ten against any
possible Cabinet. There would certainly be a majority against either
of those well-tried but, at this moment, little-trusted Prime
Ministers, Mr. Gresham and Mr. Daubeny. There were certain men,
nominally belonging to this or to the other party, who would
certainly within a week of the nomination of a Cabinet in the House,
oppose the Cabinet which they ought to support. Mr. Daubeny had
been in power,--nay, was in power, though he had twice resigned. Mr.
Gresham had been twice sent for to Windsor, and had on one occasion
undertaken and on another had refused to undertake to form a
Ministry. Mr. Daubeny had tried two or three combinations, and had
been at his wits' end. He was no doubt still in power,--could appoint
bishops, and make peers, and give away ribbons. But he couldn't pass
a law, and certainly continued to hold his present uncomfortable
position by no will of his own. But a Prime Minister cannot escape
till he has succeeded in finding a successor; and though the
successor be found and consents to make an attempt, the old
unfortunate cannot be allowed to go free when that attempt is shown
to be a failure. He has not absolutely given up the keys of his
boxes, and no one will take them from him. Even a sovereign can
abdicate; but the Prime Minister of a constitutional government
is in bonds. The reader may therefore understand that the Duchess
was asking her husband what place among the political rulers of
the country had been offered to him by the last aspirant to the
leadership of the Government.
But the reader should understand more than this, and may perhaps do
so, if he has ever seen those former chronicles to which allusion
has been made. The Duke, before he became a duke, had held very
high office, having been Chancellor of the Exchequer. When he was
transferred, perforce, to the House of Lords, he had,--as is not
uncommon in such cases,--accepted a lower political station. This had
displeased the Duchess, who was ambitious both on her own behalf and
that of her lord,--and who thought that a Duke of Omnium should be
nothing in the Government if not at any rate near the top. But after
that, with the simple and single object of doing some special piece
of work for the nation,--something which he fancied that nobody else
would do if he didn't do it,--his Grace, of his own motion, at his
own solicitation, had encountered further official degradation, very
much to the disgust of the Duchess. And it was not the way with her
Grace to hide such sorrows in the depth of her bosom. When affronted
she would speak out, whether to her husband, or to another,--using
irony rather than argument to support her cause and to vindicate her
ways. The shafts of ridicule hurled by her against her husband in
regard to his voluntary abasement had been many and sharp. They stung
him, but never for a moment influenced him. And though they stung
him, they did not even anger him. It was her nature to say such
things,--and he knew that they came rather from her uncontrolled
spirit than from any malice. She was his wife too, and he had an
idea that of little injuries of that sort there should be no end of
bearing on the part of a husband. Sometimes he would endeavour to
explain to her the motives which actuated him; but he had come to
fear that they were and must ever be unintelligible to her. But he
credited her with less than her real intelligence. She did understand
the nature of his work and his reasons for doing it; and, after
her own fashion, did what she conceived to be her own work in
endeavouring to create within his bosom a desire for higher things.
"Surely," she said to herself, "if a man of his rank is to be a
minister he should be a great minister;--at any rate as great as his
circumstances will make him. A man never can save his country by
degrading himself." In this he would probably have agreed; but his
idea of degradation and hers hardly tallied.
When therefore she asked him what they were going to make him, it
was as though some sarcastic housekeeper in a great establishment
should ask the butler,--some butler too prone to yield in such
matters,--whether the master had appointed him lately to the cleaning
of shoes or the carrying of coals. Since these knots had become so
very tight, and since the journeys to Windsor had become so very
frequent, her Grace had asked many such questions, and had received
but very indifferent replies. The Duke had sometimes declared that
the matter was not ripe enough to allow him to make any answer. "Of
course," said the Duchess, "you should keep the secret. The editors
of the evening papers haven't known it for above an hour." At
another time he told her that he had undertaken to give Mr. Gresham
his assistance in any way in which it might be asked. "Joint
Under-Secretary with Lord Fawn, I should say," answered the Duchess.
Then he told her that he believed an attempt would be made at a mixed
ministry, but that he did not in the least know to whom the work of
doing so would be confided. "You will be about the last man who will
be told," replied the Duchess. Now, at this moment, he had, as she
knew, come direct from the house of Mr. Gresham, and she asked her
question in her usual spirit. "And what are they going to make you
now?"
But he did not answer the question in his usual manner. He would
customarily smile gently at her badinage, and perhaps say a word
intended to show that he was not in the least moved by her raillery.
But in this instance he was very grave, and stood before her a moment
making no answer at all, looking at her in a sad and almost solemn
manner. "They have told you that they can do without you," she said,
breaking out almost into a passion. "I knew how it would be. Men are
always valued by others as they value themselves."
"I wish it were so," he replied. "I should sleep easier to-night."
"What is it, Plantagenet?" she exclaimed, jumping up from her chair.
"I never cared for your ridicule hitherto, Cora; but now I feel that
I want your sympathy."
"If you are going to do anything,--to do really anything, you shall
have it. Oh, how you shall have it!"
"I have received her Majesty's orders to go down to Windsor at once.
I must start within half-an-hour."
"You are going to be Prime Minister!" she exclaimed. As she spoke
she threw her arms up, and then rushed into his embrace. Never since
their first union had she been so demonstrative either of love or
admiration. "Oh, Plantagenet," she said, "if I can only do anything
I will slave for you." As he put his arm round her waist he already
felt the pleasantness of her altered way to him. She had never
worshipped him yet, and therefore her worship when it did come had
all the delight to him which it ordinarily has to the newly married
hero.
"Stop a moment, Cora. I do not know how it may be yet. But this I
know, that if without cowardice I could avoid this task, I would
certainly avoid it."
"Oh no! And there would be cowardice; of course there would," said
the Duchess, not much caring what might be the bonds which bound him
to the task so long as he should certainly feel himself to be bound.
"He has told me that he thinks it my duty to make the attempt."
"Who is he?"
"Mr. Gresham. I do not know that I should have felt myself bound by
him, but the Duke said so also." This duke was our duke's old friend,
the Duke of St. Bungay.
"Was he there? And who else?"
"No one else. It is no case for exultation, Cora, for the chances are
that I shall fail. The Duke has promised to help me, on condition
that one or two he has named are included, and that one or two whom
he has also named are not. In each case I should myself have done
exactly as he proposes."
"And Mr. Gresham?"
"He will retire. That is a matter of course. He will intend to
support us; but all that is veiled in the obscurity which is always,
I think, darker as to the future of politics than any other future.
Clouds arise, one knows not why or whence, and create darkness when
one expected light. But as yet, you must understand, nothing is
settled. I cannot even say what answer I may make to her Majesty,
till I know what commands her Majesty may lay upon me."
"You must keep a hold of it now, Plantagenet," said the Duchess,
clenching her own fist.
"I will not even close a finger on it with any personal ambition,"
said the Duke. "If I could be relieved from the burden this moment
it would be an ease to my heart. I remember once," he said,--and as
he spoke he again put his arm around her waist, "when I was debarred
from taking office by a domestic circumstance."
"I remember that too," she said, speaking very gently and looking up
at him.
"It was a grief to me at the time, though it turned out so
well,--because the office then suggested to me was one which I
thought I could fill with credit to the country. I believed in myself
then as far as that work went. But for this attempt I have no belief
in myself. I doubt whether I have any gift for governing men."
"It will come."
"It may be that I must try;--and it may be that I must break my heart
because I fail. But I shall make the attempt if I am directed to do
so in any manner that shall seem feasible. I must be off now. The
Duke is to be here this evening. They had better have dinner ready
for me whenever I may be able to eat it." Then he took his departure
before she could say another word.
When the Duchess was alone she took to thinking of the whole thing in
a manner which they who best knew her would have thought to be very
unusual with her. She already possessed all that rank and wealth
could give her, and together with those good things a peculiar
position of her own, of which she was proud, and which she had made
her own not by her wealth or rank, but by a certain fearless energy
and power of raillery which never deserted her. Many feared her
and she was afraid of none, and many also loved her,--whom she also
loved, for her nature was affectionate. She was happy with her
children, happy with her friends, in the enjoyment of perfect health,
and capable of taking an exaggerated interest in anything that might
come uppermost for the moment. One would have been inclined to say
that politics were altogether unnecessary to her, and that as Duchess
of Omnium, lately known as Lady Glencora Palliser, she had a wider
and a pleasanter influence than could belong to any woman as wife
of a Prime Minister. And she was essentially one of those women who
are not contented to be known simply as the wives of their husbands.
She had a celebrity of her own, quite independent of his position,
and which could not be enhanced by any glory or any power added to
him. Nevertheless, when he left her to go down to the Queen with
the prospect of being called upon to act as chief of the incoming
ministry, her heart throbbed with excitement. It had come at last,
and he would be, to her thinking, the leading man in the greatest
kingdom in the world.
But she felt in regard to him somewhat as did Lady Macbeth towards
her lord.
"What thou would'st highly,
That would'st thou holily."
She knew him to be full of scruples, unable to bend when aught was to
be got by bending, unwilling to domineer when men might be brought to
subjection only by domination. The first duty never could be taught
to him. To win support by smiles when his heart was bitter within him
would never be within the power of her husband. He could never be
brought to buy an enemy by political gifts,--would never be prone to
silence his keenest opponent by making him his right hand supporter.
But the other lesson was easier and might she thought be learned.
Power is so pleasant that men quickly learn to be greedy in the
enjoyment of it, and to flatter themselves that patriotism requires
them to be imperious. She would be constant with him day and night to
make him understand that his duty to his country required him to be
in very truth its chief ruler. And then with some knowledge of things
as they are,--and also with much ignorance,--she reflected that he
had at his command a means of obtaining popularity and securing
power, which had not belonged to his immediate predecessors, and had
perhaps never to the same extent been at the command of any minister
in England. His wealth as Duke of Omnium had been great; but hers,
as available for immediate purposes, had been greater even than his.
After some fashion, of which she was profoundly ignorant, her own
property was separated from his and reserved to herself and her
children. Since her marriage she had never said a word to him about
her money,--unless it were to ask that something out of the common
course might be spent on some, generally absurd, object. But now had
come the time for squandering money. She was not only rich but she
had a popularity that was exclusively her own. The new Prime Minister
and the new Prime Minister's wife should entertain after a fashion
that had never yet been known even among the nobility of England.
Both in town and country those great mansions should be kept open
which were now rarely much used because she had found them dull,
cold, and comfortless. In London there should not be a Member
of Parliament whom she would not herself know and influence by
her flattery and grace,--or if there were men whom she could not
influence, they should live as men tabooed and unfortunate. Money
mattered nothing. Their income was enormous, and for a series of
years,--for half-a-dozen years if the game could be kept up so
long,--they could spend treble what they called their income without
real injury to their children. Visions passed through her brain of
wondrous things which might be done,--if only her husband would be
true to his own greatness.
The Duke had left her about two. She did not stir out of the house
that day, but in the course of the afternoon she wrote a line to a
friend who lived not very far from her. The Duchess dwelt in Carlton
Terrace, and her friend in Park Lane. The note was as follows:--
DEAR M.,
Come to me at once. I am too excited to go to you.
Yours,
G.
This was addressed to one Mrs. Finn, a lady as to whom chronicles
also have been written, and who has been known to the readers of such
chronicles as a friend dearly loved by the Duchess. As quickly as she
could put on her carriage garments and get herself taken to Carlton
Terrace, Mrs. Finn was there. "Well, my dear, how do you think it's
all settled at last?" said the Duchess. It will probably be felt that
the new Prime Minister's wife was indiscreet, and hardly worthy of
the confidence placed in her by her husband. But surely we all have
some one friend to whom we tell everything, and with the Duchess Mrs.
Finn was that one friend.
"Is the Duke to be Prime Minister?"
"How on earth should you have guessed that?"
"What else could make you so excited? Besides, it is by no means
strange. I understand that they have gone on trying the two old
stagers till it is useless to try them any longer; and if there is to
be a fresh man, no one would be more likely than the Duke."
"Do you think so?"
"Certainly. Why not?"
"He has frittered away his political position by such meaningless
concessions. And then he had never done anything to put himself
forward,--at any rate since he left the House of Commons. Perhaps
I haven't read things right,--but I was surprised, very much
surprised."
"And gratified?"
"Oh yes. I can tell you everything, because you will neither
misunderstand me nor tell tales of me. Yes,--I shall like him to be
Prime Minister, though I know that I shall have a bad time of it
myself."
"Why a bad time?"
"He is so hard to manage. Of course I don't mean about politics. Of
course it must be a mixed kind of thing at first, and I don't care
a straw whether it run to Radicalism or Toryism. The country goes
on its own way, either for better or for worse, whichever of them
are in. I don't think it makes any difference as to what sort of
laws are passed. But among ourselves, in our set, it makes a deal
of difference who gets the garters, and the counties, who are
made barons and then earls, and whose name stands at the head of
everything."
"That is your way of looking at politics?"
"I own it to you;--and I must teach it to him."
"You never will do that, Lady Glen."
"Never is a long word. I mean to try. For look back and tell me of
any Prime Minister who has become sick of his power. They become sick
of the want of power when it's falling away from them,--and then they
affect to disdain and put aside the thing they can no longer enjoy.
Love of power is a kind of feeling which comes to a man as he grows
older."
"Politics with the Duke have been simple patriotism," said Mrs. Finn.
"The patriotism may remain, my dear, but not the simplicity. I don't
want him to sell his country to Germany, or to turn it into an
American republic in order that he may be president. But when he gets
the reins in his hands, I want him to keep them there. If he's so
much honester than other people, of course he's the best man for
the place. We must make him believe that the very existence of the
country depends on his firmness."
"To tell you the truth, Lady Glen, I don't think you'll ever make the
Duke believe anything. What he believes, he believes either from very
old habit, or from the working of his own mind."
"You're always singing his praises, Marie."
"I don't know that there is any special praise in what I say; but as
far as I can see, it is the man's character."
"Mr. Finn will come in, of course," said the Duchess.
"Mr. Finn will be like the Duke in one thing. He'll take his own way
as to being in or out quite independently of his wife."
"You'd like him to be in office?"
"No, indeed! Why should I? He would be more often at the House,
and keep later hours, and be always away all the morning into the
bargain. But I shall like him to do as he likes himself."
"Fancy thinking of all that. I'd sit up all night every night of
my life.--I'd listen to every debate in the House myself,--to have
Plantagenet Prime Minister. I like to be busy. Well now, if it does
come off--"
"It isn't settled, then?"
"How can one hope that a single journey will settle it, when those
other men have been going backwards and forwards between Windsor and
London, like buckets in a well, for the last three weeks? But if it
is settled, I mean to have a cabinet of my own, and I mean that you
shall do the foreign affairs."
"You'd better let me be at the exchequer. I'm very good at accounts."
"I'll do that myself. The accounts that I intend to set a-going
would frighten any one less audacious. And I mean to be my own home
secretary, and to keep my own conscience,--and to be my own master of
the ceremonies certainly. I think a small cabinet gets on best. Do
you know,--I should like to put the Queen down."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"No treason; nothing of that kind. But I should like to make
Buckingham Palace second-rate; and I'm not quite sure but I can. I
dare say you don't quite understand me."
"I don't think that I do, Lady Glen."
"You will some of these days. Come in to-morrow before lunch. I
suppose I shall know all about it then, and shall have found that my
basket of crockery has been kicked over and every thing smashed."