_Leader Perforce_
DURING the first six weeks of this famous committee the attendance
of its members was not very regular, and its labours attracted little
attention. The evidence on the East-India part of the question was
closed and reported to the House by the end of February; after that
period the evidence was reported to the House every week or ten
days. Towards the end of March, rumours began to circulate of the
extraordinary vigour and ability with which this investigation was
pursued, and of the novel, authentic, and striking evidence that had
been elicited. The proceedings were talked of in the House of Commons
and on the Royal Exchange; the City men who were examined went back
to their companions with wondrous tales of the energy and acuteness
of Harcourt House, and the order, method, and discipline of the
committee-room at Westminster. As time elapsed, the hopes of the
colonial interest again revived. It was generally felt that Lord George
had succeeded in establishing an irresistible case. It was rumoured that
the government could not withstand it. Those who had originally murmured
at the course which he had adopted of moving for a committee of inquiry,
instead of proposing a specific measure of relief, and had treated an
investigation as a mere means of securing inaction, now recanted their
rash criticism, and did justice to his prescience and superior judgment,
as well as to his vast information and indefatigable exertions. The week
during which the committee sat on their report was a very anxious
one; the divisions were known every day in the House of Commons; the
alternations of success and discomfiture, and the balanced numbers that
so often called for the interposition of the chairman, were calculated
to sustain the excitement; and when, on the 29th of May, it was known
that the report was at length agreed to, and that a committee of free
traders had absolutely recommended a differential duty of 10s. in favour
of our own produce, one might have fancied from the effect visibly
produced, that a government was changed.
A few days before--it was the day after the Derby, May 25th--the writer
met Lord George Ben-tinck in the library of the House of Commons. He
was standing before the book-shelves, with a volume in his hand, and
his countenance was greatly disturbed. His resolutions in favour of
the colonial interest after all his labours had been negatived by the
committee on the 22nd, and on the 24th, his horse Surplice, whom he
had parted with among the rest of his stud, solely that he might pursue
without distraction his labours on behalf of the great interests of the
country, had won that paramount and Olympian stake, to gain which had
been the object of his life. He had nothing to console him, and nothing
to sustain him except his pride. Even that deserted him before a heart
which he knew at least could yield him sympathy. He gave a sort of
superb groan:--
‘All my life I have been trying for this, and for what have I sacrificed
it!’ he murmured.
It was in vain to offer solace.
‘You do not know what the Derby is,’ he moaned out.
‘Yes, I do; it is the blue ribbon of the turf.’
‘It is the blue ribbon of the turf,’ he slowly repeated to himself, and
sitting down at the table, he buried himself in a folio of statistics.
But on Monday, the 29th, when the resolution in favour of a 10s.
differential duty for the colonies had at the last moment been carried,
and carried by his casting vote, ‘the blue ribbons of the turf were all
forgotten. Not for all the honours and successes of all the meetings,
spring or autumn, Newmarket, Epsom, Goodwood, Doncaster, would he have
exchanged that hour of rapture. His eye sparkled with fire, his nostril
dilated with triumph, his brow was elate like a conqueror, his sanguine
spirit saw a future of continued and illimitable success.
‘We have saved the colonies,’ he said,--‘saved the colonies. I knew it
must be so. It is the knell of free trade.’
Notwithstanding the formal renunciation of the leadership of the
Protectionist party by Lord George Bentinck, it was soon evident to the
House and the country that that renunciation was merely formal. In these
days of labour, the leader of a party must be the man who does the work,
and that work cannot now be accomplished without the devotion of a life.
Whenever a great question arose, the people out of doors went to Lord
George Bentinck, and when the discussion commenced, he was always found
to be the man armed with the authority of knowledge. There was, however,
no organized debate and no party discipline. No one was requested to
take a part, and no attendance was ever summoned. The vast majority
sitting on the Protectionist benches always followed Bentinck, who,
whatever might be his numbers in the lobby, always made a redoubtable
stand in the House. The situation however, it cannot be denied, was a
dangerous one for a great party to persevere in, but no permanent damage
accrued, because almost every one hoped that before the session was
over, the difficulty would find a natural solution in the virtual chief
resuming his formal and responsible post. Notwithstanding his labours on
the two great committees of the year--those on colonial and commercial
distress,--Lord George Bentinck found time to master the case of the
shipping interest when the navigation laws were attacked, to impugn in
a formal motion the whole of the commercial policy of Sir Robert Peel,
even while the sugar and coffee planting committee was still sitting,
and to produce, early in March, a rival budget. It was mainly through
the prolonged resistance which he organized against the repeal of the
navigation laws, that the government, in 1848, was forced to abandon
their project. The resistance was led with great ability by Mr. Herries,
and the whole party put forward their utmost strength to support him.
But it is very difficult to convey a complete picture of the laborious
life of Lord George Bentinck during the sitting of Parliament.
At half-past nine o’clock there called upon him the commercial
representatives of the question of the day; after these conferences came
his elaborate and methodical correspondence, all of which he carried
on himself in a handwriting clear as print, and never employing a
secretary; at twelve or one o’clock he was at a committee, and he only
left the committee-room to take his seat in the House of Commons, which
he never quitted till the House adjourned, always long past midnight,
and often at two o’clock in the morning. Here he was ready for all
comers, never omitting an opportunity to vindicate his opinions, or
watching with lynx-like vigilance the conduct of a public office. What
was not his least remarkable trait is, that although he only breakfasted
on dry toast, he took no sustenance all this time, dining at White’s
at half-past two o’clock in the morning. After his severe attack of
the influenza he broke through this habit a little during the last
few months of his life, moved by the advice of his physician and the
instance of his friends. The writer of these observations prevailed
upon him a little the last year to fall into the easy habit of dining
at Bellamy’s, which saves much time, and permits the transaction of
business in conversation with a congenial friend. But he grudged it:
he always thought that something would be said or done in his absence,
which would not have occurred had he been there; some motion whisked
through, or some return altered. His principle was that a member should
never be absent from his seat.
The session of ‘48 had been one of unexampled length, having lasted ten
months, and, as usual under such circumstances, the obstacles to the
transaction of public business were sought everywhere except in the
real quarter. The forms of the House and the propensity to unnecessary
discussion among its members were chiefly denounced. Lord George
Bentinck did not agree in the justness of these criminations; they were
eagerly caught by the thoughtless and the superficial, but it was his
habit to investigate and analyze everything, and he found that these
charges had no basis. The forms of the House of Commons are the
result of accumulated experience and have rarely been tampered with
successfully, while on the other hand a parliamentary government is by
name and nature essentially a government of discussion. It is not at all
difficult to conceive a mode of governing a country more expeditious
than by a parliament; but where truth as well as strength is held to
be an essential element of legislation, opinion must be secured an
unrestricted organ. Superfluity of debate may often be inconvenient to
a minister, and sometimes perhaps even distasteful to the community;
but criticizing such a security for justice and liberty as a free-spoken
parliament is like quarrelling with the weather because there is too
much rain or too much sunshine. The casual inconvenience should be
forgotten in the permanent blessing. Acting upon these false imputations
a committee was even appointed, two years ago, of the most eminent
members of the House of Commons, to investigate the subject and suggest
remedies, and some votaries of the Transatlantic type recommended the
adoption of the rules of Congress where each speaker is limited to
an hour. But an hour from an uninteresting speaker would be a great
infliction. The good sense and the good taste of the House of Commons
will be found on the whole to be the best regulators of the duration of
a debate.
The truth is that the delay in the conduct of parliamentary business
which has been much complained of during the last few years, murmurs of
which were especially rife in 1848, is attributable to the fact that the
ministry, though formed of men inferior in point of ability to none who
could be reasonably intrusted with administration, had not
sufficient parliamentary strength. After all their deliberations and
foresight,--after all their observations of the times and study of the
public interest, their measures when launched from the cabinet into the
House were not received by a confiding majority, firm in their faith
in the statesmanlike qualities of the authors of these measures and in
their sympathy with the general political system of which the ministry
was the representative. On the contrary, the success of the measures
depended on a* variety of sections who in their aggregate exceeded in
number and influence the party of the ministers. These became critics
and took the ministerial measures in hand; the measures became, the
measures, not of the cabinet, but of the House of Commons; and a purely
legislative assembly became, in consequence of the weakness of the
government, yearly more administrative. This was undoubtedly a great
evil, and occasioned, besides great delay, many crude enactments, as
will be the case where all are constructors and none are responsible,
but the evil was not occasioned by the forms of the House or the
length of the speeches. Sir Robert Peel was unquestionably a very able
administrator, but if he had not had a majority of ninety he would
have fallen in as ill repute as has been too often the lot of Lord John
Russell.
Lord George Bentinck was very anxious that there should be a
parliamentary summary of this enormous and eventful session of ‘48, that
the conduct of business by the ministry should be traced and criticized
and the character of the House of Commons vindicated, and he appealed to
the writer of these observations to undertake the task. But the writer
was unwilling to accede to this suggestion, not only because at the end
of August he shrank from a laborious effort, but principally because he
did not hold that his position in the House of Commons warranted on his
part such an interference, since, after all, he was only the comrade in
arms of one who chose to be only an independent member of the House. He
therefore unaffectedly stated that he thought the office was somewhat
above his measure. But Lord George Bentinck would not listen to these
representations. ‘I don’t pretend to know much,’ he said, ‘but I can
judge of men and horses.’ It is difficult to refuse those who are
themselves setting a constant example of self-sacrifice, and therefore,
so far as the labour was concerned, the writer would not have shrunk
from the exertion even on the last day of the month of August, and when
the particular wish of Lord George was found to be more general than the
writer presumed to suppose, he accordingly endeavoured to accomplish the
intention.
Three or four days after this, the writer, about to leave London, called
at Harcourt House, to say farewell to his comrade in arms. He
passed with Lord George the whole morning, rather indulging in the
contemplation of the future than in retrospect. Lord George was serene,
cheerful, and happy. He was content with himself, which was rarely the
case, and remembered nothing of his career but its distinction, and the
ennobling sense of having done his duty.
Any misunderstandings that may have for a moment irritated him seemed
forgotten; he appeared conscious that he possessed the confidence
and cordial regard of the great majority of the Protectionist party,
although he chose to occupy a private post, and he was proud of the
consciousness. He was still more sensible of the sympathy which he had
created out of doors, which he greatly appreciated, and to which, though
with his usual modesty, he more than once recurred. ‘The thing is
to get the people out of doors with you,’ he repeated, ‘men like the
merchants; all the rest follow.’ It was evident that the success of his
colonial committee had greatly satisfied his spirit. He had received
that day the vote of thanks of the West-India body for his exertions.
He said more than once, that with a weak government, a parliamentary
committee properly worked might do wonders. He said he would have a
committee on import duties next year, and have all the merchants to show
what share the foreigners had obtained of the reductions that had been
made of late years. He maintained, that, quite irrespective of the
general arrangements of the new commercial system, Sir Robert Peel had
thrown away a great revenue on a number of articles of very inferior
importance, and he would prove this to the country. He said our colonial
empire ought to be reconstructed by a total abolition of all duties on
produce from her Majesty’s dominions abroad.
All his ideas were large, clear, and coherent. He dwelt much on the
vicissitudes which most attend all merely foreign trade, which, though
it should be encouraged, ought not to be solely relied on, as was the
fashion of this day. Looking upon war as occasionally inevitable, he
thought a commercial system based upon the presumption of perpetual
peace to be full of ruin. His policy was essentially imperial and not
cosmopolitan.
About to part probably for many months, and listening to him as he
spoke, according to his custom, with so much fervour and sincerity, one
could not refrain from musing over his singular and sudden career. It
was not three years since he had in an instant occupied the minds
of men. No series of parliamentary labours had ever produced so much
influence in the country in so short a time. Never was a reputation so
substantial built up in so brief a period. AH the questions with which
he had dealt were colossal questions: the laws that should regulate
competition between native and foreign labour; the interference of the
state in the development of the resources of Ireland; the social and
commercial condition of our tropical colonies; the principles upon which
our revenue should be raised; the laws which should regulate and protect
our navigation. But it was not that he merely expressed opinions
upon these subjects; he came forward with details in support of his
principles and policy, which it had before been believed none but a
minister could command. Instead of experiencing the usual and almost
inevitable doom of private members of Parliament, and having his
statements shattered by official information, Lord George Bentinck on
the contrary, was the assailant, and the successful assailant, of
an administration on these very heads. He often did their work more
effectually than all their artificial training enabled them to do it.
His acute research, and his peculiar sources of information, roused
the vigilance of all the public offices of the country. Since his time,
there has been more care in preparing official returns, and in arranging
the public correspondence placed on the table of the House of Commons.
When one remembered that in this room, not three years ago, he was
trying to find a lawyer who would make a speech for him in Parliament,
it was curious to remember that no one in the period had probably
addressed the House of Commons oftener. Though his manner, which was
daily improving, was not felicitous in the House, the authority of his
intellect, his knowledge, and his character, made him one of the great
personages of debate; but with the country who only read his speeches
he ranked high as an orator. It is only those who have had occasion
critically to read and examine the long series of his speeches who can
be conscious of their considerable merits. The information is always
full and often fresh, the scope large, the argument close, and the
style, though simple, never bald, but vigorous, idiomatic, and often
picturesque. He had not credit for this in his day, but the passages
which have been quoted in this sketch will prove the justness of this
criticism. As a speaker and writer, his principal need was condensation.
He could not bear that anything should remain untold. He was deficient
in taste, but he had fervour of feeling, and was by no means void of
imagination.
The writer, in his frequent communications with him of faithful and
unbounded confidence, was often reminded of the character by Mr. Burke
of my Lord Keppell.
The labours of Lord George Bentinck had been supernatural, and one ought
perhaps to have felt then that it was impossible they could be continued
on such a scale of exhaustion; but no friend could control his eager
life in this respect; he obeyed the law of his vehement and fiery
nature, being one of those men who in whatever they undertake know no
medium, but will ‘succeed or die.’
But why talk here and now of death! He goes to his native county and his
father’s proud domain, to breathe the air of his boyhood and move amid
the parks and meads of his youth. Every breeze will bear health, and the
sight of every hallowed haunt will stimulate his pulse. He is scarcely
older than Julius Cæsar when he commenced his public career, he looks as
high and brave, and he springs from a long-lived race.
He stood upon the _perron_ of Harcourt House, the last of the great
hotels of an age of stately dwellings with its wings, and court-yard,
and carriage portal, and huge outward walls. He put forth his hand to
bid farewell, and his last words were characteristic of the man--of his
warm feelings and of his ruling passion: ‘God bless you; we must work,
and the country will come round us.’