POLITICAL VENOM.
On the Monday Mr. Turnbull opened the ball by declaring his reasons
for going into the same lobby with Mr. Daubeny. This he did at great
length. To him all the mighty pomp and all the little squabbles of
office were, he said, as nothing. He would never allow himself to
regard the person of the Prime Minister. The measure before the House
ever had been and ever should be all in all to him. If the public
weal were more regarded in that House, and the quarrels of men less
considered, he thought that the service of the country would be
better done. He was answered by Mr. Monk, who was sitting near him,
and who intended to support Mr. Gresham. Mr. Monk was rather happy
in pulling his old friend, Mr. Turnbull, to pieces, expressing his
opinion that a difference in men meant a difference in measures. The
characters of men whose principles were known were guarantees for the
measures they would advocate. To him,--Mr. Monk,--it was matter of
very great moment who was Prime Minister of England. He was always
selfish enough to wish for a Minister with whom he himself could
agree on the main questions of the day. As he certainly could not say
that he had political confidence in the present Ministry, he should
certainly vote against them on this occasion.
In the course of the evening Phineas found a letter addressed to
himself from Mr. Bonteen. It was as follows:--
House of Commons, April 5th, 18--.
DEAR MR. FINN,
I never accused you of dishonesty. You must have misheard
or misunderstood me if you thought so. I did say that you
had scuttled the ship;--and as you most undoubtedly did
scuttle it,--you and Mr. Monk between you,--I cannot
retract my words.
I do not want to go to any one for testimony as to your
merits on the occasion. I accused you of having done
nothing dishonourable or disgraceful. I think I said that
there was danger in the practice of scuttling. I think
so still, though I know that many fancy that those who
scuttle do a fine thing. I don't deny that it's fine, and
therefore you can have no cause of complaint against me.
Yours truly,
J. BONTEEN.
He had brought a copy of his own letter in his pocket to the House,
and he showed the correspondence to Mr. Monk. "I would not have
noticed it, had I been you," said he.
"You can have no idea of the offensive nature of the remark when it
was made."
"It's as offensive to me as to you, but I should not think of moving
in such a matter. When a man annoys you, keep out of his way. It is
generally the best thing you can do."
"If a man were to call you a liar?"
"But men don't call each other liars. Bonteen understands the world
much too well to commit himself by using any word which common
opinion would force him to retract. He says we scuttled the ship.
Well;--we did. Of all the political acts of my life it is the one
of which I am most proud. The manner in which you helped me has
entitled you to my affectionate esteem. But we did scuttle the ship.
Before you can quarrel with Bonteen you must be able to show that a
metaphorical scuttling of a ship must necessarily be a disgraceful
act. You see how he at once retreats behind the fact that it need not
be so."
"You wouldn't answer his letter."
"I think not. You can do yourself no good by a correspondence in
which you cannot get a hold of him. And if you did get a hold of him
you would injure yourself much more than him. Just drop it." This
added much to our friend's misery, and made him feel that the weight
of it was almost more than he could bear. His enemy had got the
better of him at every turn. He had now rushed into a correspondence
as to which he would have to own by his silence that he had been
confuted. And yet he was sure that Mr. Bonteen had at the club
insulted him most unjustifiably, and that if the actual truth were
known, no man, certainly not Mr. Monk, would hesitate to say that
reparation was due to him. And yet what could he do? He thought that
he would consult Lord Cantrip, and endeavour to get from his late
Chief some advice more palatable than that which had been tendered to
him by Mr. Monk.
In the meantime animosities in the House were waxing very furious;
and, as it happened, the debate took a turn that was peculiarly
injurious to Phineas Finn in his present state of mind. The rumour as
to the future promotion of Mr. Bonteen, which had been conveyed by
Laurence Fitzgibbon to Phineas at the Universe, had, as was natural,
spread far and wide, and had reached the ears of those who still
sat on the Ministerial benches. Now it is quite understood among
politicians in this country that no man should presume that he will
have imposed upon him the task of forming a Ministry until he has
been called upon by the Crown to undertake that great duty. Let the
Gresham or the Daubeny of the day be ever so sure that the reins of
the State chariot must come into his hands, he should not visibly
prepare himself for the seat on the box till he has actually been
summoned to place himself there. At this moment it was alleged that
Mr. Gresham had departed from the reticence and modesty usual in
such a position as his, by taking steps towards the formation of a
Cabinet, while it was as yet quite possible that he might never be
called upon to form any Cabinet. Late on this Monday night, when the
House was quite full, one of Mr. Daubeny's leading lieutenants, a
Secretary of State, Sir Orlando Drought by name,--a gentleman who if
he had any heart in the matter must have hated this Church Bill from
the very bottom of his heart, and who on that account was the more
bitter against opponents who had not ceased to throw in his teeth his
own political tergiversation,--fell foul of Mr. Gresham as to this
rumoured appointment to the Chancellorship of the Exchequer. The
reader will easily imagine the things that were said. Sir Orlando
had heard, and had been much surprised at hearing, that a certain
honourable member of that House, who had long been known to them as
a tenant of the Ministerial bench, had already been appointed to a
high office. He, Sir Orlando, had not been aware that the office had
been vacant, or that if vacant it would have been at the disposal of
the right honourable gentleman; but he believed that there was no
doubt that the place in question, with a seat in the Cabinet, had
been tendered to, and accepted by, the honourable member to whom he
alluded. Such was the rabid haste with which the right honourable
gentleman opposite, and his colleagues, were attempting, he would not
say to climb, but to rush into office, by opposing a great measure of
Reform, the wisdom of which, as was notorious to all the world, they
themselves did not dare to deny. Much more of the same kind was said,
during which Mr. Gresham pulled about his hat, shuffled his feet,
showed his annoyance to all the House, and at last jumped upon his
legs.
"If," said Sir Orlando Drought,--"if the right honourable gentleman
wishes to deny the accuracy of any statements that I have made, I
will give way to him for the moment, that he may do so."
"I deny utterly, not only the accuracy, but every detail of the
statement made by the right honourable gentleman opposite," said
Mr. Gresham, still standing and holding his hat in his hand as he
completed his denial.
"Does the right honourable gentleman mean to assure me that he has
not selected his future Chancellor of the Exchequer?"
"The right honourable gentleman is too acute not to be aware that we
on this side of the House may have made such selection, and that yet
every detail of the statement which he has been rash enough to make
to the House may be--unfounded. The word, sir, is weak; but I would
fain avoid the use of any words which, justifiable though they might
be, would offend the feelings of the House. I will explain to the
House exactly what has been done."
Then there was a great hubbub--cries of "Order," "Gresham," "Spoke,"
"Hear, hear," and the like,--during which Sir Orlando Drought and Mr.
Gresham both stood on their legs. So powerful was Mr. Gresham's voice
that, through it all, every word that he said was audible to the
reporters. His opponent hardly attempted to speak, but stood relying
upon his right. Mr. Gresham said he understood that it was the desire
of the House that he should explain the circumstances in reference
to the charge that had been made against him, and it would certainly
be for the convenience of the House that this should be done at
the moment. The Speaker of course ruled that Sir Orlando was in
possession of the floor, but suggested that it might be convenient
that he should yield to the right honourable gentleman on the
other side for a few minutes. Mr. Gresham, as a matter of course,
succeeded. Rights and rules, which are bonds of iron to a little man,
are packthread to a giant. No one in all that assembly knew the House
better than did Mr. Gresham, was better able to take it by storm, or
more obdurate in perseverance. He did make his speech, though clearly
he had no right to do so. The House, he said, was aware, that by the
most unfortunate demise of the late Duke of Omnium, a gentleman had
been removed from this House to another place, whose absence from
their counsels would long be felt as a very grievous loss. Then he
pronounced a eulogy on Plantagenet Palliser, so graceful and well
arranged, that even the bitterness of the existing opposition was
unable to demur to it. The House was well aware of the nature of the
labours which now for some years past had occupied the mind of the
noble duke; and the paramount importance which the country attached
to their conclusion. The noble duke no doubt was not absolutely
debarred from a continuance of his work by the change which had
fallen upon him; but it was essential that some gentleman, belonging
to the same party with the noble duke, versed in office, and having a
seat in that House, should endeavour to devote himself to the great
measure which had occupied so much of the attention of the late
Chancellor of the Exchequer. No doubt it must be fitting that the
gentleman so selected should be at the Exchequer, in the event of
their party coming into office. The honourable gentleman to whom
allusion had been made had acted throughout with the present noble
duke in arranging the details of the measure in question; and the
probability of his being able to fill the shoes left vacant by
the accession to the peerage of the noble duke had, indeed, been
discussed;--but the discussion had been made in reference to the
measure, and only incidentally in regard to the office. He, Mr.
Gresham, held that he had done nothing that was indiscreet,--nothing
that his duty did not demand. If right honourable gentlemen opposite
were of a different opinion, he thought that that difference came
from the fact that they were less intimately acquainted than he
unfortunately had been with the burdens and responsibilities of
legislation.
There was very little in the dispute which seemed to be worthy of
the place in which it occurred, or of the vigour with which it was
conducted; but it served to show the temper of the parties, and to
express the bitterness of the political feelings of the day. It was
said at the time, that never within the memory of living politicians
had so violent an animosity displayed itself in the House as had
been witnessed on this night. While Mr. Gresham was giving his
explanation, Mr. Daubeny had arisen, and with a mock solemnity that
was peculiar to him on occasions such as these, had appealed to the
Speaker whether the right honourable gentleman opposite should not be
called upon to resume his seat. Mr. Gresham had put him down with a
wave of his hand. An affected stateliness cannot support itself but
for a moment; and Mr. Daubeny had been forced to sit down when the
Speaker did not at once support his appeal. But he did not forget
that wave of the hand, nor did he forgive it. He was a man who in
public life rarely forgot, and never forgave. They used to say
of him that "at home" he was kindly and forbearing, simple and
unostentatious. It may be so. Who does not remember that horrible
Turk, Jacob Asdrubal, the Old Bailey barrister, the terror of
witnesses, the bane of judges,--who was gall and wormwood to all
opponents. It was said of him that "at home" his docile amiability
was the marvel of his friends, and delight of his wife and daughters.
"At home," perhaps, Mr. Daubeny might have been waved at, and have
forgiven it; but men who saw the scene in the House of Commons knew
that he would never forgive Mr. Gresham. As for Mr. Gresham himself,
he triumphed at the moment, and exulted in his triumph.
Phineas Finn heard it all, and was disgusted to find that his enemy
thus became the hero of the hour. It was, indeed, the opinion
generally of the Liberal party that Mr. Gresham had not said much to
flatter his new Chancellor of the Exchequer. In praise of Plantagenet
Palliser he had been very loud, and he had no doubt said that which
implied the capability of Mr. Bonteen, who, as it happened, was
sitting next to him at the time; but he had implied also that the
mantle which was to be transferred from Mr. Palliser to Mr. Bonteen
would be carried by its new wearer with grace very inferior to that
which had marked all the steps of his predecessor. Ratler, and
Erle, and Fitzgibbon, and others had laughed in their sleeves at
the expression, understood by them, of Mr. Gresham's doubt as to
the qualifications of his new assistant, and Sir Orlando Drought,
in continuing his speech, remarked that the warmth of the right
honourable gentleman had been so completely expended in abusing his
enemies that he had had none left for the defence of his friend.
But to Phineas it seemed that this Bonteen, who had so grievously
injured him, and whom he so thoroughly despised, was carrying off
all the glories of the fight. A certain amount of consolation was,
however, afforded to him. Between one and two o'clock he was told
by Mr. Ratler that he might enjoy the privilege of adjourning the
debate,--by which would accrue to him the right of commencing on the
morrow,--and this he did at a few minutes before three.