active in her ministrations there were no motor-cars, and indeed no
quick and convenient communication between the west end of London and
the Whitechapel Road, and it is marvellous how she found time to do
all she did. She mostly went down to Whitechapel by omnibus and train,
travelling third class. On one occasion there was a lady in the train
with whom Mrs. Gladstone entered into conversation and who confided
her troubles. It seemed her husband had an appointment in Australia,
but she could not accompany him as they had not money enough to pay
the passage for both. In talking Mrs. Gladstone passed the station
at which she should have got out, and on looking in her purse found
she had no money, having expended what she had on her return ticket.
Thereupon she borrowed some from the lady, giving her name and address,
and told her if she would call next day she would in the meanwhile see
what could be done to help her. When the lady told her husband of the
adventure, he said, “Well, you must be green. As if Mrs. Gladstone
would travel third class and be without any money!” He insisted on
accompanying his wife next day, fearing some hoax. To his surprise she
was let in to the house, and he walked up and down till she came out
in a great state of joy. Mrs. Gladstone had been at a dinner-party the
night before and had collected £70, a sum she had just handed to her
for her journey!
But Mrs. Gladstone’s charities were not confined to the east end of
London. She established an orphanage and an asylum for aged women at
Hawarden, and during the distress that prevailed among the cotton
operatives in Lancashire at the time of the American Civil War, Mr.
Gladstone gave employment to some of the men in making footpaths in
Hawarden park and woods, an improvement of the property that had been
long meditated. Mrs. Gladstone invited the men to bring with them
their unemployed daughters, asked her brother to give her the use of
an old house--a former dower-house--situated in the courtyard of the
castle, fitted it up as a house for the girls, and had them trained in
domestic work; as soon as they attained some degree of efficiency she
found them situations. Others then came from Lancashire to take their
places at the Home.
Later on, after the cholera outbreak in London, she brought to Hawarden
some of the orphans[75] she had taken charge of at Clapton and lodged
them in a smaller house; they attended the village school and were
taught trades. When the Lancashire trouble was past, and the hands
had returned to the mills, the orphans were transferred to the larger
house, where thirty children could be accommodated. It has only lately
been given up. The smaller house then became a Home for aged women.
When Mrs. Gladstone was at Hawarden, she paid frequent visits to the
Orphanage and Home, accompanied generally by her daughters and any lady
who chanced to be staying with them.
In the forties of last century the only political work in which women
took any part was in canvassing, and even that was done individually
without any sort of organisation. Women did not speak on public
platforms, did not form political associations, and although the wives
of the great politicians in or out of office talked freely of all that
was going on, and undoubtedly had through their husbands and their men
friends great influence on affairs in many ways, it never occurred to
them to band themselves into an organisation or to demand the Vote. Yet
women had managed to effect important social reforms. Elizabeth Fry as
early as 1813 brought the conditions of prison life into notice, and
reforms were instituted. Elizabeth Barrett Browning helped to better
the conditions of the children who worked in mines and factories,[76]
and Helen Taylor through her public spirit brought about drastic
reforms in the industrial schools of London, to mention only a few
instances that, were this a suitable place, might easily be multiplied.
Mrs. Gladstone did her share of canvassing, and especially helped her
husband in the Oxford election of 1847. She was said to be very skilful
at the work and hard to resist. But it was not until Gladstone’s
Midlothian Campaign of 1879 that there arose any thought of political
organisation among women. A presentation was made to him and Mrs.
Gladstone at Dalkeith[77] of an album of photographic views of Scottish
scenery from the ladies of the county, and a velvet tablecover from the
women workers at a carpet factory at Lasswade. In acknowledging the
gifts, Mr. Gladstone spoke of those political interests which appealed
more especially to women, and pointed out how women might assist in the
regeneration of the world. Addressing the women present he said:
“The harder and sterner and drier lessons of political economy are
little to your taste. You do not concern yourselves with abstract
propositions. It is that side of politics that is associated with the
heart of man that I must call your side of politics.” He then pointed
out how “peace” was the one thing that must make a strong appeal
to women, and how they could do much to influence its preservation
among the nations; and to prevent the “mischief, indescribable and
unredeemable, of causeless and unnecessary war.” At the same time
Gladstone made it clear that he knew that the state of society did
not permit a vow of universal peace and the renunciation in all cases
of the alternative of war. He concluded his address by an appeal to
women to bear their part in the crisis, and thought that he was making
no inappropriate demand but was asking them as women “to perform a
duty which belongs to you, which, so far from involving any departure
from your character as woman, is associated with the fulfilment of
that character and the performance of its duties, and the neglect
of which would in some future time be to you a source of pain, but
the accomplishment of which will serve to build your future years
with sweet remembrances, and which will warrant you in hoping that
each of you, within your own place and sphere, has raised your voice
for justice, and striven to mitigate the sorrows and misfortunes of
mankind.”
The appeal was to bear great fruit. Towards the end of 1880, after
the General Election of that year placed the Liberal party in power,
small associations of women Liberals began to be formed in London and
the Provinces, and by the spring of 1886 there were about fifteen of
such associations in existence. But it was not until 1887 that the
central organisation of the Women’s Liberal Federation was formed,
with Mrs. Gladstone as president. The inaugural meeting was held, 25th
February 1887, with Mrs. Gladstone in the chair. Thus Mrs. Gladstone
was seventy-five years of age before she took any really active part
in politics, or made any speeches from a public platform. Her voice,
though very sweet, was not strong, and she could only be heard by those
seated in her immediate neighbourhood; her ingrained lack of method
prevented her ever properly grasping the technical routine of a public
meeting. But others more efficient in such matters were always ready
to help her through, and there is no question that her acceptance of
the presidency made for the strength of the Federation, and caused
it to count in the political world. Her record as wife, mother, and
philanthropist was a fine one, and it was felt that, combining in
perfection as she did the new and the old ideal of woman’s mission and
work, she was eminently the right person in the right place. In her
inaugural address she said that she understood there were a number of
women anxious to work for the Liberal cause and able to do so with
advantage. Such work on the part of women should be open and clear
and carried on by direct not by backstairs influence. She herself
held rather old-fashioned views regarding the part to be taken by
women in the world’s work, but they could all, without in any way
impairing their efficiency as women, help the Liberal cause, which had
always been one of progress and justice. She was present at meetings
wherever she could manage it, most often arranged in conjunction
with some speech of her husband, as at Nottingham in October 1887,
or at Birmingham in November 1888, where, in referring to the Irish
question, she pointed out how women could do great things for the cause
with gentleness, patience, kindness, and charity, by tenderly and
quietly educating and not quarrelling with their opponents. “We must
persevere, combining our efforts, reassuring the doubtful, stimulating
the weak, working and waiting with courage and with faith.” In May
1889 the annual meeting of the Federation was held in London during
the sittings, as it chanced, of the Parnell Commission, at which Mrs.
Gladstone was a regular attendant. The forty associations of 1887 had
increased to 133, with over 43,000 women members in 1890, and in that
year the question of their attitude towards woman suffrage had to be
considered. It led to a split in the camp, but contrary to expectation
Mrs. Gladstone continued her presidency of the old society, which
now put the Parliamentary enfranchisement of women in the forefront
of its objects; but while she did not feel keen about it, and had no
inclination personally to advocate it, she saw that it had become a
question of the hour, and the fact that the Federation supported it did
not seem to her a sufficient reason for resigning, especially as the
party were straining every nerve to bring Mr. Gladstone back to power,
and the Whips desired to retain the influence that was wielded by her
position as president. But when Mr. Gladstone became Prime Minister
again in 1892, there was no longer a special reason for the continuance
of the office, and in October she signified her intention of resigning:
“I have already on my hands,” she wrote to Lady Aberdeen, “as much as I
can do, and every year makes it more necessary for me to be free from
any extra cares and responsibilities.”
Mrs. Gladstone’s active political work was undertaken solely because
she thought she could thereby be useful to her husband and the causes
he had so deeply at heart. It extended only over some half-dozen
years, from her seventy-fifth to her eighty-first year. She disliked
publicity, though she was quite ready to accept the share of it
inevitable from her husband’s great position, but she had no idea of
aggrandising women as women, of setting sex against sex; she believed
that organisation would enable women to take their share of the larger
life of the world without any risk of hurting “distinctive womanhood,”
and her own life set an example of the possibility for a woman to gain
mental breadth without failing in “childward care” or losing “the
childlike in the larger mind.”
III
On 25th July 1889 Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone celebrated their golden
wedding, completing fifty years of a married life in which they had
abundantly realised “all the unclouded blessings of the home.” The year
before, on entering their fiftieth year of married life, colleagues
and personal friends presented them with their portraits, that of
Mr. Gladstone painted by Holl and of his wife by Herkomer, and three
massive silver cups. In thanking them Mr. Gladstone said that it was
difficult for him to give an adequate idea of the domestic happiness
he had enjoyed during the fifty years of his married life. Other
presentations were made on the wedding anniversary itself, both in
London and at Hawarden, and again Mr. Gladstone said that no words he
could use would ever suffice to express the debt he owed his wife in
relation to all the offices she had discharged in his behalf during the
long and happy period of their conjugal union.
Mr. Gladstone was Prime Minister for a short time in 1886. From 1892 to
1894 he again held the office, and in the latter year retired for good
from public life. Mrs. Gladstone was much disturbed by his decision and
did everything in her power to persuade him to continue in office, but
he stood firm as the rocks at Biarritz, where the discussion was held.
It had always been his belief that men ought not to go on with official
work after they had become really old. He was eighty-five, so that no
one could say he had not done his share of the work of the world.
The nature of the pains in the face from which Gladstone suffered was
recognised early in 1897. His wife went with him to Cannes in the hope
that a more genial climate might be beneficial, but when it became
certain that the malady was incurable, they returned to Hawarden.
Though there was nothing she could do for him, she sat by his bedside
till the end, only consenting with great reluctance to take a few
hours’ rest. When, on 19th May 1898, all was over, and her lifelong
companion had gone from her, even in her deep grief she thought of
others, and before the remains of her beloved husband were taken from
Hawarden to their last resting-place in the Abbey, she drove out to
offer consolation to two Hawarden women whose husband and fiancé had
been killed in a mine accident the day before. She and her sorrow
were in every one’s hearts, and Lord Rosebery, speaking in the House
of Lords, expressed in memorable words what all were feeling when he
referred to the “solitary and pathetic figure who for sixty years
shared all the sorrows and all the joys of Mr. Gladstone’s life, who
received his every confidence and every aspiration, who shared his
triumphs with him and cheered him under his defeats, and by her tender
vigilance sustained and prolonged his years.”
Mr. Gladstone’s body was brought to London for burial in the Abbey.
Mrs. Gladstone accompanied the mournful convoy, and stayed in London
at the house of her niece, Lady Frederick Cavendish. She was present
at the funeral, an impressive and touching scene, seated at the
head of the grave, the group around which included, besides children
and grandchildren, sons and daughters-in-law, princes, statesmen,
high dignitaries and functionaries of every kind. When all was over
the Prince of Wales[78] went up to the chief mourner and, bending
down, kissed her hand, and said a word or two of sympathy; Prince
George[79] did the same, thus reversing the usual attitude of sovereign
and subject. The example so greatly set was followed by the other
pall-bearers, and Mrs. Gladstone was so much revived by the wonderful
tribute the whole funeral had been to her husband’s worth, that she was
able to say to each the most suitable thing, reminding, for example,
the aged Duke of Rutland that he had been Gladstone’s colleague at
Newark when he had been returned for his first Parliamentary seat. Some
one said that Mrs. Gladstone went into the Abbey a widow and walked out
of it a bride.
The death of her eldest son in 1891 and the retirement of Gladstone in
1894 had seemed to break her spirit, and it was clear to all for the
first time that she really showed signs of age. But after the great
testimony of the Abbey her vitality in large measure returned, and she
was almost her old self until her death, which occurred at Hawarden,
14th June 1900. A few days later she was buried near her husband in
Westminster Abbey.
Although Mrs. Gladstone was never a great social force, her grace
and charm of manner won her a large circle of attached friends. When
the occasion called for it, she could be the _grande dame_, and
could act with great dignity. Beneath her simplicity of manner lay
great cleverness. She disliked bores, and showed peculiar skill in
extricating herself from them without their perceiving her manœuvre.
With importunity, however, she had no patience; she would then summon
all her dignity, and would put the sinner in his place without ado.
She scarcely practised the social arts in the technical sense of
the term. She was indifferent in the choice of guests, and seldom
troubled to make sure that they would amalgamate. The Thursday 10 a.m.
breakfasts became deservedly famous, because they comprised most of the
celebrities of the day--a prima donna, a popular actor, an editor, Mme
de Novikoff, Canon Liddon, a great Whig peeress. Dinners would include
a mixed company of Members of Parliament and a few non-political
friends. At Hawarden the great Whig nobles of the party, like Lord
Spencer, Lord Rosebery, and Lord Aberdeen, were chiefly entertained, at
whose houses also the Gladstones stayed. Life at Hawarden, even with
visitors in the house, was simple; food was good but plain, the hours
regular and early. Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone always attended the eight
o’clock service at the parish church, a walk of three-quarters of a
mile, returning to breakfast, which was enlivened with brilliant talk.
It was with difficulty that in later years they could be persuaded to
use a pony carriage for the early attendance at church, and at last to
substitute attendance at evensong at five o’clock three times a week.
Gladstone’s library was known as the “Temple of Peace,” and when the
books overflowed into the adjoining lobby, that was christened the
“Chapel of Ease.”
Punctuality was a rule of the house for all. Dinner was at 8 p.m., and
no late-comer was waited for, unless he or she happened to be some
distinguished stranger. As soon as three were assembled Mr. Gladstone
would cry, “Quorum! Quorum!” and march into the dining-room.
Gladstone always notified where he himself wished to be entertained,
and Mrs. Gladstone showed great dexterity and tact in arranging such
invitations. She was similarly skilful in the general management of her
husband. She secured that he should enjoy all his little peculiarities,
such as eating slowly, and supplying him with the glass of good port
he liked to drink after dinner, and allowing him to see the friends he
preferred, both men and women--an excellent way, if wives in general
would only believe and practise it, to keep husbands young and fresh.
They were both fond of walking, and very often walked home after
dining out. Mrs. Gladstone was indifferent to dress, and her general
untidiness and absence of method in minor matters occasionally got
her into trouble. But she managed dexterously to escape it. Mr.
Gladstone used to say, “My wife has a marvellous faculty for getting
into scrapes, but also a marvellous faculty for getting out of them.”
She had a regal carriage, and her movements were swift and light. Her
eyes were of a deep sapphire blue, long in shape, set well apart, in
expression according to her mood, merry or tender or mischievous.
Abundant soft brown hair waved on her forehead.
After the first few years of married life, when children were born in
quick succession and her health was therefore somewhat delicate, she
enjoyed for the rest of her existence wonderfully fine health. She took
a daily cold bath until the year of her death. One winter, when she was
over eighty, a mission was held at Hawarden. As the service began at 4
a.m. she consented to sleep at the Rectory. Her son, the Rector, got up
at three, made some water hot, and took it to his mother’s room. She
opened her door fully dressed and ready, having taken her cold bath as
usual.
One reason of Mrs. Gladstone’s ability to resist fatigue and to get
through so large an amount of work was her practice of sleeping for
short periods. She could lie down on a sofa and go to sleep at will for
ten or fifteen minutes, and awake perfectly refreshed. Sometimes, too,
in the House of Commons, during one of her husband’s long speeches, she
would take a short nap, for as she always sat with her head bent and
eyes looking down on Mr. Gladstone, her companions never detected that
she was asleep, and indeed were lost in admiration at the rapt way in
which she listened, and the manner in which she endured the fatigue of
sitting there so many hours.
Amid all her activities she found time for much letter-writing, and
corresponded with numbers of interesting people. With the slightest
materials she contrived to get an atmosphere into her letters that made
them delightful reading.
One who knew Mrs. Gladstone well writes:
“Helpfulness, that was the note of her character; in any difficulty, in
the most impossible case, Mrs. Gladstone would plan, contrive, arrange,
enlist others, and never rest until the difficulty was solved, and the
persons put in the way of helping themselves--nay more, supported,
befriended, encouraged, till they could stand alone. Perhaps few
persons were so often consulted and appealed to as was Mrs. Gladstone.
It might be young girls entering on life in the first joy of a marriage
engagement, or young beauties to whom she would gently suggest thoughts
that were unworldly. Very often it would be some hard-worked London
priest toiling single-handed amongst his thousands, and thinking no one
cared, who found in Mrs. Gladstone a listener not only sympathetic but
suggestive, one who did not forget, but would forward his plans, and
who had the rare gift of setting other people to work.
“Mrs. Gladstone had the genius of charity. _Good_ or to be helped to
be good, that was the essence of it all. Religion not forced, not
obtruded, but as natural and vital as fresh air, was, not an adjunct
of life, but life itself. In her own devotions, in the daily services
of the Church, in many a Eucharist did Catherine Gladstone renew her
soul’s life, and increase the charity and the delightful gaiety of her
temperament, and from the spirit of wisdom learn those intuitions which
so rarely failed her. It seemed but natural that her last spoken words
were, ‘I must not be late for Church.’”
In these days of storm and stress and feverish excitement and unrest
among women, it is well to recall the life of a woman like Mrs.
Gladstone who, in a period when such mechanical aids to activity as
motor-cars and telephones were non-existent, yet contrived to be
a devoted wife, smoothing her husband’s path in every direction,
accompanying him everywhere, an equally devoted mother, as well as a
charming hostess of country-house parties at Hawarden and of the more
formal entertainments in London consequent on her position as the
wife of a great Minister of State. In addition to such domestic and
social duties she engaged in philanthropic work, and in no dilettante
spirit; she visited hospitals, founded convalescent homes, and refuges
and orphanages; she played her part in the public political work then
undertaken by women. She accomplished all these things without an
idea that she was doing anything worthy of note or of record, and yet
quietly, unostentatiously, and unconsciously leaving an ineffaceable
mark on every phase of life with which she came in contact.
VII
LADY SALISBURY
Lord Salisbury was the last of Queen Victoria’s Prime Ministers, and
she has left it on record that she thought him the ablest of them
all. Lady Salisbury was Georgiana, daughter of Lord Alderson, Baron
of the Exchequer. Lord Alderson was a man of great intellect, whose
career, though honourable and useful, never quite fulfilled the
expectations of his friends. At Cambridge University he was Senior
Wrangler, Smith’s prizeman, and Senior Chancellor’s medallist, which
is almost a unique record. The Aldersons belonged to what was called
“the Norwich set,” a group of families living near that city who made
it into an intellectual centre. It is curious to learn, in connection
with the history of some of his descendants, that in his early days
Lord Alderson was a Unitarian, and was descended from Mrs. Opie, the
well-known Quaker. He himself, however, became a member of the Church
of England, and the family were well known as advanced Tractarians.
[Illustration:
_Hollyer_
LADY SALISBURY
_After the portrait by Sir W. B. Richmond_]