MEMBER FOR WOODSTOCK
Minutely trace man’s life; year after year,
Through all his days let all his deeds appear,
And then, though some may in that life be strange,
Yet there appears no vast nor sudden change;
The links that bind those various deeds are seen,
And no mysterious void is left between.
CRABBE, _The Parting Hour_.
A profound tranquillity brooded over the early years of the Parliament
of 1874. Mr. Gladstone was in retirement. A young Irishman, Charles
Stewart Parnell, had been beaten at the General Election in his Dublin
candidature and did not enter the House of Commons or make a nervous
maiden speech till the spring of 1875. Mr. Chamberlain, a new though
already formidable English politician, had, as a Radical, vainly
attacked Mr. Roebuck, the Liberal member for Sheffield, and was not
returned as a representative of Birmingham till 1876. The Irish party
was led sedately along the uncongenial paths of constitutional agitation
by Mr. Butt; Radicalism was without a spokesman; and the Liberals
reposed under the leadership of Lord Hartington and the ascendency of
the Whigs. For the first time since the schism of 1846 a Conservative
Administration was founded upon a Conservative majority. The fiscal
period had closed. All those questions of trade and navigation, of the
incidence of taxation and of public economy, which had occupied almost
the whole lives of political leaders on both sides, were settled. New
strains, new problems, new perils approached--but at a distance; and in
the meanwhile the Conservative party, relieved from the necessity of
defending untenable positions, freed from controversies which had proved
to them so utterly disastrous, received again the confidence of the
nation and the substantial gift of power.
The reasons which had induced, or perhaps compelled Mr. Disraeli to
refuse to form a Government on the defeat of Mr. Gladstone’s Irish
University Bill early in 1873, seemed conclusive at the time. They were
certainly vindicated by the subsequent course of events. The Liberal
Ministry never recovered its credit. Nonconformist wrath at the
Education Act and Radical disdain continued fierce and enduring. Harsh
demands for social reforms began to come from Birmingham and grated on
the ears of the Whigs. The dissensions in the governing party cast their
shadows upon the Cabinet. Vexatious quarrels broke out among Ministers.
No reconstruction availed. Not even the return of Mr. Bright to the
Administration could revive its falling fortunes: by-elections were
adverse and the House of Commons was apathetic. The Government of 1868
had been in its day very powerful. Scarcely any Prime Minister had
enjoyed the support of such distinguished colleagues as Mr. Gladstone
had commanded in the noonday of his strength. Few Administrations had
more punctually and faithfully discharged the pledges under which they
had assumed office. The statute-book, the Army, and the finances bore
forcible testimony to their reforming zeal. But their usefulness and
their welcome were alike exhausted and the nation listened with morose
approval to the charges which Mr. Disraeli preferred. ‘For nearly five
years,’ he wrote to Lord Grey de Wilton, October 3, 1873, on the eve of
the by-election at Bath, ‘the present Ministers have harassed every
trade, worried every profession, and assailed or menaced every class,
institution, and species of property in the country. Occasionally they
have varied this state of civil warfare by perpetrating some job which
outraged public opinion, or by stumbling into mistakes which have been
always discreditable and sometimes ruinous.’
Yet it is alleged that a cause much more personal than political
precipitated the dissolution. Mr. Gladstone had at the late
reconstruction become Chancellor of the Exchequer as well as First Lord
of the Treasury. Had he therefore vacated his seat by accepting an
office of profit under the Crown? The Opposition was alert; the law
officers were as doubtful in their published opinion as the constituency
of Greenwich in its temper. The question lay outside the control of the
Government and their supporters. If Mr. Gladstone sat and voted when the
session opened, he could be sued in the courts for substantial
penalties; and none could forecast the decision. On the other hand, the
defeat of the Prime Minister, as the culmination of a long series of
ill-fated by-elections, would be at once a personal humiliation and a
political disaster. It must therefore be reckoned almost a fortunate
coincidence that the Estimates both of the Admiralty and the War Office
to some degree exceeded the limits within which Mr. Gladstone had hoped
to confine them and that the Ministers responsible for those departments
should have been reluctant to reduce them. Who shall pronounce upon the
motives of men--in what obscure and varying relations they combine or
conflict, in what proportion they are mingled? Something of the vanity
of a great man irritated by a personal difficulty, something of the
weariness that waits on generous effort not acknowledged, something of
physical revolt from the interminable wrangles and compromises of a
Cabinet, much consideration, let it be said, for the proud dignity of
which the British Government should never be divested, induced Mr.
Gladstone in the first days of 1874 to advise the dissolution of
Parliament.
The Conservatives reaped the advantage of their leader’s self-restraint.
A year before they had rejected office. They now appealed for power.
Instead of coming hat in hand, a defeated, discredited, and degraded
Ministry who had held their places for a few months in order to wind up
a session at the contemptuous toleration of a hostile majority, they
presented themselves with authority and reserve to the good opinion of
the public. The result was decisive. In vain Mr. Gladstone promised the
abolition of the income-tax, the diminution of local taxation, and the
reduction of burdens upon articles of general consumption. In vain the
financial and administrative triumphs of Liberalism were paraded. The
elections resulted in a Tory majority of fifty--‘really,’ according to
Mr. Gladstone, ‘of much greater strength’; and that strange prophet of
Israel who for thirty years had wandered in the wilderness of fiscal
heresy, led his astonished or doubtful followers back to the land of
place and promise.
Liberal recriminations occupied the morrow of disaster. Mr. Gladstone
was blamed for an impulsive and precipitate dissolution. Mr. Chamberlain
described his address and its financial allurements as ‘the meanest
public document that had ever, in like circumstances, proceeded from the
pen of a statesman of the first rank.’[3] Other critics asserted that
all would have been well had he waited till after the Budget with its
noble surplus, or till the genial weather of the summer-time, or till
some period still more remote. Under all ran a current of satire and
suggestion about the double office, the Greenwich election, and their
influence upon greater decisions. Mr. Gladstone for his part was not
backward in rejoinder. ‘Not from anger, but because it is absolutely
necessary to party action to learn that all the duties and
responsibilities do not rest on the leaders, but that followers have
their obligations too,’ he announced his retirement from the Liberal
leadership and his determination to secure some interval of private life
‘between Parliament and the grave.’ From this intention not the
consternation of his party, nor the appeals of his friends, nor the
taunts of his detractors could move him further than to promise a
limited and occasional leadership, which in the course of a session was
found to mean no leadership at all.
Notwithstanding the risk of being forced to form a future
Administration, several eminent men stepped forward to the gap; but the
issue quickly narrowed itself to a contest between Mr. Forster and Lord
Hartington. Mr. Forster had, it seemed, the advantage in talent and
authority and the gift of speech. He may be described as the first of
the Liberal-Imperialists and on more than one occasion--notably the
Crimean War, the Volunteer movement, and the prosecution of Governor
Eyre--he had come into sharp conflict with the Manchester school.
Although at heart one of the kindliest and most benevolent of men, his
personal independence, a certain Yorkshire roughness of manner and an
ill-concealed dislike of doctrinaire Radicalism had made him many
enemies; and not even the Ballot Act, which he had carried in the teeth
of Conservative opposition, could redeem the mortal offence his
Education compromise had caused the Nonconformists. His enemies
prevailed; and in the early days of 1875 Lord Hartington was duly
installed in the vacant place.
If the Opposition in 1874 were without a leader, the Government they
confronted was without a policy. The Conservatives owed their success at
the polls to the divisions and exhaustion of their opponents rather than
to any action or even to any promises of their own. The new Prime
Minister did not allow the violent attacks he had lately made upon the
conduct of his predecessors to lead him into any reversal of their
measures. The composition of the Cabinet was suited to a policy of
‘honest humdrum.’ With the exceptions of Lord Salisbury and Mr.
Gathorne-Hardy, Mr. Disraeli’s old colleagues were regarded as ‘safe’
rather than brilliant; and the one new man who joined them, Mr. Assheton
Cross, did not seriously alter the prevailing impression.
At the head of a victorious party, with a substantial majority and an
overflowing Exchequer, Mr. Disraeli could afford to be generous and was
inclined to be conciliatory. He took occasion on the Address to pay a
handsome tribute to Mr. Gladstone’s long public service and personal
fame. The Queen’s Speech announced little more than a continuance of the
non-contentious part of the programme of the late Liberal Government.
The administration of the Irish Viceroy and Lord Northbrook’s policy in
India were praised and endorsed. The Chancellors, new and old, consulted
together upon the reform of legal procedure. Sir Stafford Northcote bore
witness, in terms almost of panegyric, to the accuracy of Mr.
Gladstone’s financial anticipations; and Mr. Gathorne-Hardy accepted in
their entirety Lord Cardwell’s arrangements for the Army.
In this last instance at least some disappointment was caused to their
supporters by the complaisance of the new Ministers. The proposal to
make Oxford one of the new territorial military centres had agitated the
University ever since the adoption of the Cardwell scheme of Army reform
in 1872. In October of that year a memorial, signed by nearly the whole
of the teaching staff, had vigorously protested against a plan which it
was somewhat fancifully alleged would prove detrimental by example to
University discipline and undergraduate morality. Lord Salisbury, as
Chancellor, had initiated a debate in the House of Lords in June 1873;
and in May Mr. Auberon Herbert had moved in the Commons for a select
committee. Mr. Cardwell, however, explained that the site was to be two
miles from Oxford, that the number of officers and men to be stationed
there was small, and that other University towns contained garrisons;
and Mr. Auberon Herbert’s motion was defeated (May 23, 1873) by 134 to
90.
Upon the accession of a Conservative Government and especially of a War
Minister who had himself strongly supported Mr. Herbert only a year
before, the motion was renewed on May 22 by Mr. Beresford Hope--not
unreasonably, as it would seem--with greater expectations of success.
Lord Randolph Churchill, who had taken the oath and his seat at the
beginning of the session (March 6), seized the opportunity to deliver
his maiden speech. Unlike the usual form of such productions, it was
prepared at very short notice and was a rather crude debating effort.
The Secretary of State, Mr. Gathorne-Hardy, explained that, since the
land had been bought and the contractor was at work, he could not now
reverse the decision to which his predecessor had come. He was supported
by Mr. A. W. Hall, one of the members for Oxford City, who enlarged on
the advantages of the place as a military centre, and complained that
the University had already succeeded in keeping away the Great Western
main line and the railway works.
Lord Randolph spoke from the University point of view. The proposal, he
declared, amounted to the turning of an ancient University into
something like a modern garrison town, the mingling of learned
professors and thoughtful students with ‘roystering soldiers and
licentious camp followers.’ If it were adopted, Oxford might take the
place of Aldershot. The opinion of the City ought not to override that
of the University. The University of Oxford had made the City of Oxford.
The City depended for its very existence upon the University; and while
it could forget, it could not forgive, that fact. To save 52,000_l._ the
reputation and the future of the University were to be sold. What
comparison could be made between the University of Oxford and the
Universities of London, Dublin, and Edinburgh? Dublin was full of
soldiers ‘from the notorious disaffection and insubordination of the
Irish people’; London because it was the Metropolis of the United
Kingdom; and Edinburgh because it was the capital of Scotland. But the
Universities of Oxford and Cambridge were founded before standing armies
were known or garrison towns existed. The ablest and the most
experienced leaders of the University had boldly said that, if they
could prevent it, they would not have Oxford turned into a manufacturing
town; they had protested against the town being overrun with railway
roughs and navvies; they now objected to its being converted into a
military station crowded with disorderly soldiers. Leave their quiet
cloisters undisturbed and Oxford would remain the greatest University
city in the world.
Sir William Harcourt, who followed, complimented the new member upon the
ability of his speech. He professed himself greatly shocked that one who
bore a name so inseparably associated with the glories of the British
Army should have permitted himself to speak of ‘roystering soldiers,’ or
that one who was elected to the House by a majority all of whom did not
belong to the upper classes, should have spoken of ‘railway roughs.’ The
Lord Mayor of Dublin, who spoke later, complained of what he described
as an unfounded slander upon his constituents conveyed in the suggestion
that a large army was stationed in Dublin for the purpose of keeping
down a disloyal and disaffected population; and another member, a
graduate of Trinity College, protested against the sneers at Dublin
University which he said Lord Randolph’s speech had contained. The
motion was rejected by 170 to 91; and it is fair to say that none of the
evils anticipated have yet occurred. The barracks have proved too far
from Oxford to interfere practically with its life, though their
presence is a convenience to University candidates for the Army, and the
officers form a valuable addition to academic society.
Although it had chanced that Lord Randolph’s first speech was against
the Government, Mr. Disraeli hastened to write a friendly account of it
to the Duchess of Marlborough:--
2 Whitehall Gardens, S.W.: May 23, 1874.
Dear Duchess,--You will be pleased to hear that Lord R. last night
made a very successful _début_ in the House of Commons. He said
some imprudent things, which was of no consequence in the maiden
speech of a young man, but he spoke with fire and fluency; and
showed energy of thought and character, with evidence of resource.
With self-control and assiduity he may obtain a position worthy of
his name, and mount. He replied to the new Conservative member for
Oxford City, who also is a man of promise. I am going to Hughenden
this morning, and am very busy, or I would have tried to have told
you all this in person.
Yours sincerely,
D.
[Sidenote: 1875 ÆT. 26]
But the course of the session and of the years that followed offered few
opportunities to young members for winning Parliamentary distinction.
The waters of politics flowed smoothly and even sluggishly. The Public
Worship Regulation Bill brought Mr. Gladstone promptly from his
retirement with six resolutions and much moving eloquence. During its
passage political leaders were thrown into novel combinations and
discords and the ordinary lines of party cleavage altogether
disappeared. The House of Commons, with an unconscious disregard of its
own rules, wrangled over the debates in the House of Lords. The Prime
Minister described the Secretary of State for India as a ‘master of
gibes and flouts and jeers.’ Mr. Gladstone and Lord Salisbury on the one
hand confronted Sir William Harcourt and Mr. Disraeli on the other. But
with this exception the sessions were dull and formal. Now and then an
incident or a scene, like Mr. Plimsoll’s outburst or Mr. Biggar’s
four-hour speech, excited a momentary interest or irritation. The
purchase of the Suez Canal shares or the Royal Titles Bill or an
academic debate upon Home Rule produced from time to time interesting
discussions. The mild dissipation of Mr. Gladstone’s surplus by his
successor at the Treasury provoked a spurt of censure; but the
temperature of public life continued low and its pulse languid.
Even in a period of political activity there is small scope for the
supporter of a Government. The Whips do not want speeches, but votes.
The Ministers regard an oration in their praise or defence as only one
degree less tiresome than an attack. The earnest party man becomes a
silent drudge, tramping at intervals through lobbies to record his vote
and wondering why he came to Westminster at all. Ambitious youth
diverges into criticism and even hostility, or seeks an outlet for its
energies elsewhere. Lord Randolph took scarcely any part in the
Parliament of 1874. During its first three years he did not occupy more
than an hour and a half of its time or attention. If he spoke at all, it
was usually on matters connected with Woodstock. A question here and
there, a few uncontroversial words during the debates on the Public
Worship Regulation Bill, a sharp little impromptu speech on a motion for
the release of Irish State prisoners in protest against an unkind
comparison drawn by Mr. O’Connor Power between the soldiers who had
become Fenians and the conduct of the first Duke of Marlborough in
deserting William of Orange--these are almost the only references to his
existence that ‘Hansard’ contains.
At the end of May 1875 Sir Charles Dilke moved for a return of the
unreformed Corporations of England, making special reference to the
circumstances and behaviour of the excessively unreformed borough of
Woodstock. He attacked its self-elected corporation, which gave no
account of its dealings with its property and contributed apparently
only a small proportion to public purposes. He denounced its Mayor--the
landlord of a small public-house, let to him at an absurdly low rate by
the Corporation--who, having been summoned and convicted under pressure
from the inhabitants for permitting drinking on his premises after
hours, had said: ‘I have always had a great respect for the police, but
I shall never have again.’ This cruel indictment brought Lord Randolph
to the rescue in an amusing speech, in which he exhibited such
unexpected debating powers that it was alleged, and I dare say not
without some truth, that he did not hear Sir Charles Dilke’s speech for
the first time in the House of Commons. He explained that the Foresters
had met at the King’s Arms and that ‘their business had been so
important as to last beyond closing time.’ The application for the
summons, he said, had been delayed because the police had been kept busy
by the Shipton-on-Cherwell railway accident; the fines imposed had been
trifling, and the Mayor had really said, ‘I have always thought highly
of the police of Woodstock, and shall henceforth think more highly of
them than ever’--a version of his remarks which, it must be admitted,
would seem to have indicated a very high degree of civic virtue. Lord
Randolph then justified the expenditure of the Corporation, and
deprecated ‘the vivisection of an unfortunate Mayor and the persecution
of a few poor Aldermen.’ ‘The great beauty of this speech,’ said Sir
William Harcourt, in reply, ‘was that the noble lord, having admitted
all the most damaging facts against himself, persuaded the House that
they were of no importance whatever.’ But at any rate Lord Randolph was
successful in saving his constituents from inquiry, and the debate ended
amid much good-humour on all sides. Indeed, when Sir Charles Dilke
renewed his motion in the following year, there was quite a considerable
attendance of members who had laughed at the first dispute and wanted to
hear another sparring match.
For the first year after Lord Randolph’s marriage he and Lady Randolph
lived in a small house in Curzon Street and indulged in all the gaieties
and festivities of the London season, which in those days was much
fuller and more prolonged than it is now. Balls and parties at great
houses long since closed; Newmarket, Ascot, Goodwood, Cowes, and
Trouville; filled the lives of a young couple in merry succession.
Little else was thought of but enjoyment; and though the member for
Woodstock liked discussing politics and took an intelligent interest in
affairs, his attendances at the House were fitful and fleeting. The
winter at Blenheim was occupied in hunting with the Heythrop Hounds and
varied by occasional visits to Paris, where Lady Randolph’s family was
living. There he mixed in French society and met politicians and
writers, and it was at this time that he formed a friendship with M. de
Breteuil, which, like most of his intimate friendships, lasted the rest
of his life. It was also during these days that he cultivated a taste
for French novels, which ended by making him a fair French scholar, with
that comprehensive, peculiar, and correct knowledge of the subtleties
and idioms of the language which is often to be noticed in his letters.
[Illustration: _Lady Randolph Churchill_]
In the spring of 1875 Lord and Lady Randolph installed themselves in a
larger house in Charles Street, where they continued their gay life on a
somewhat more generous scale than their income warranted. Fortified by
an excellent French cook, they entertained with discrimination. The
Prince of Wales, who had from the beginning shown them much kindness,
dined sometimes with them. Lord Randolph’s college friend, Lord
Rosebery, was a frequent visitor. One night Mr. Disraeli was among their
guests, and an anecdote of his visit may be preserved. ‘I think,’ said
Lord Randolph, discussing with his wife their party after it had broken
up, ‘that Dizzy enjoyed himself. But how flowery and exaggerated is his
language! When I asked him if he would have any more wine, he replied:
“My dear Randolph, I have sipped your excellent champagne; I have drunk
your good claret; I have tasted your delicious port--I will have no
more”!’ ‘Well,’ said Lady Randolph, laughing, ‘he sat next to me, and I
particularly remarked that he drank nothing but a little weak
brandy-and-water.’ In August 1875, Lord Randolph went with his wife to
America to spend ten bustling days at the Philadelphia Exhibition; and
in the United States, as in Paris, he made the acquaintance of many
politicians and persons of public note.
Thus for two years his days were filled with social amusements and
domestic happiness.
’ ...All the world looked kind
(As it will look sometimes with the first stare
Which youth would not act ill to keep in mind).’[4]
[Sidenote: 1876 ÆT. 27]
He was embarrassed chiefly by the necessity, which time imposed, of
having to select from a superfluity of pleasures. The House of Commons
was but one among various diversions. His occasional attendances
contributed an element of seriousness to his life, good in itself,
attractive by contrast, that provided, moreover, a justification (very
soothing to the conscience) for not engaging in more laborious work. But
for the recurring ailments to which his delicate constitution was
subject and the want of money which so often teases a young married
couple, his horizon had been without a cloud, his career without a care.
But in the year 1876 an event happened which altered, darkened, and
strengthened his whole life and character. Engaging in his brother’s
quarrels with fierce and reckless partisanship, Lord Randolph incurred
the deep displeasure of a great personage. The fashionable world no
longer smiled. Powerful enemies were anxious to humiliate him. His own
sensitiveness and pride magnified every coldness into an affront. London
became odious to him. The breach was not repaired for more than eight
years, and in the interval a nature originally genial and gay contracted
a stern and bitter quality, a harsh contempt for what is called
‘Society,’ and an abiding antagonism to rank and authority. If this
misfortune produced in Lord Randolph characteristics which afterwards
hindered or injured his public work, it was also his spur. Without it he
might have wasted a dozen years in the frivolous and expensive pursuits
of the silly world of fashion; without it he would probably never have
developed popular sympathies or the courage to champion democratic
causes.
When Mr. Disraeli formed his Government, he had asked the Duke of
Marlborough to go to Ireland as Viceroy. But the Duke, whose income
could ill support such pretended magnificence, and who was quite content
at Blenheim, declined. In 1876 the Prime Minister renewed his offer, and
urged the special argument that if the Duke took his younger son with
him the resentment in London would the sooner blow over in Lord
Randolph’s absence. Thus urged, the Duke reluctantly consented. Blenheim
was handed over to housekeepers and agents and its household was bodily
transported to the Viceregal Lodge. His father hoped that Lord Randolph
could become the regular private secretary to the Lord-Lieutenant; but
various difficulties interposed, and in the end it was decided that the
appointment must be unofficial and unpaid. It was certain that his
acceptance of ‘an office of profit’ would involve the expense of another
election at Woodstock. It was uncertain whether, even after being
re-elected, that particular post could be held jointly with a seat in
the House of Commons.
_Sir Michael Hicks-Beach (Chief Secretary
to the Lord-Lieutenant) to the Duke of Marlborough_
Chief Secretary’s Lodge, Phœnix Park: Tuesday.
My dear Lord Duke,--The Irish Lord Chancellor is _very doubtful_
whether the office of Private Secretary to the Lord-Lieutenant is,
or is not, a ‘new office.’ I believe it appears from old almanacks
that Lord-Lieutenants had private secretaries before the date of
the Act, as one would naturally suppose. But in one case a _Bishop_
appears to have held the appointment; and the Lord Chancellor
thinks that since that time there may have been such changes made,
either in the duties of the office or in the mode in which its
holder is paid, as technically to make it a ‘new office.’ This,
however, is to a great extent a question of fact; and I have
therefore asked Sir Bernard Burke, who is _the_ authority here upon
such things, to look into the point and let me have his views in
the shape of a memorandum, which I will forward to you.
Please let me know whether you have _quite_ settled to come over on
Monday night, 11th, reaching Dublin on Tuesday morning; as I must,
in that event, summon a Privy Council for Tuesday. And I hope you
have got the ‘Queen’s letter’ and your patent, or will have them by
that time.
Your Grace’s very truly,
M. E. HICKS-BEACH.
And again:--
Rockingham, Boyle: November 28, 1876.
My dear Lord Duke,--I fear you will think my letters a decided
nuisance; but it is not my fault if I have to convey unpleasant
intelligence.
At my request Lord Chancellor Ball has given me the enclosed
opinion as to Lord Randolph’s position. You will see that it does
not in so many words touch the question whether Lord Randolph, if
re-elected, could hold the office of your private secretary
together with a seat in Parliament; but it rather implies that he
could. I will, however, on my return to Dublin on Friday next, ask
the Lord Chancellor to look into this point also.
I am bound to say that I attach great importance to any view which
the Lord Chancellor may take on such a subject. Perhaps the only
lawyer in Ireland whose opinion on it might be more valuable is,
oddly enough, Mr. Butt. But his opinion could only be formally
taken, and it would be hardly wise to do this.
Believe me
Your Grace’s very sincerely,
M. E. HICKS-BEACH.
[Sidenote: 1877 ÆT. 28]
The state entry of the new Viceroy was conducted with its usual ceremony
on December 11, 1876. Lord Randolph, who with his wife and child
followed in the procession, made, amid the bustle and discomfort of this
day, a life-long friend. Mr. FitzGibbon filled in 1877 the peculiar
office of ‘Law Adviser’ at the Castle. The proper duty of the ‘Adviser’
was to answer legal questions put by justices of the peace all over
Ireland, but he had also to give advice and opinions to all and sundry
at the Castle, in the constabulary, lunacy, valuation, and a dozen other
of the queerly-conceived and oddly-entangled departments through which
the Government of Ireland is administered. ‘After the Duke’s public
entry,’ writes Lord Justice FitzGibbon, ‘the legal maid-of-all-work
attended with the rest of the officials in the throne room, to be
presented. When I had made my bow I went back to my “files.” Presently
the door opened, and Kaye, the Assistant Under-Secretary, came in with a
young man whom he introduced as “the Lord-Lieutenant’s son,” who “wanted
to ask the Law Adviser a question.” So he left us. A footman had
jibbed--I suppose he did not like the look of Dublin Castle--and Lord
Randolph wanted to know whether he could “sack” him without paying his
fare back to London. He wanted to do this “as a lesson.” I told him
that, whatever the law was, the Lord-Lieutenant’s son couldn’t do it;
and so began an acquaintance which ripened soon into a friendship that,
full though it was of almost constant anxiety and apprehension, is one
of the dearest memories of my life. How it grew so fast I can hardly
tell. I suppose electricity came in somewhere....’
Five minutes’ walk from the Viceregal Lodge, on the road to the
Phœnix Park, there stands, amid clustering trees, a little, long,
low, white house with a green verandah and a tiny lawn and garden. This
is the ‘Little Lodge’ and the appointed abode of the private secretary
to the Lord-Lieutenant. By a friendly arrangement with that gentleman
Lord Randolph was permitted to occupy it; and here, for the next four
years, his life was mainly lived. He studied reflectively the jerky
course of administration at the Castle. He played chess with Steinitz,
who was living in Dublin at this time; he explored Donegal in pursuit of
snipe; he fished the lakes and streams of Ireland, wandering about where
fancy took him; but wherever he went, and for whatever purpose, he
interested himself in the people and studied the questions of the
country. Disdaining the Ward Stag-hounds as not true sport, he hunted
earnestly each winter with the Meath and Kildare. Often on a summer’s
afternoon he would repair to Howth, where the east coast cliffs rise up
into bold headlands which would not be unworthy of the Atlantic waves.
Here in good company he would make the ‘periplus,’ as he called it--or,
in other words, sail round ‘Ireland’s Eye’--in the 16-foot boat of
FitzGibbon’s mate, Frank Lynch (the ‘Admiral’ of his letters), catch
lobsters, and cook and eat them on the rocks of the island. In the
evenings he played half-crown whist in Trinity College or at the
University Club or dined and argued with FitzGibbon and his friends. ‘He
was,’ writes FitzGibbon, ‘always on the move. He had the reputation of
an “_enfant terrible_.” Before long he had been in Donegal, in
Connemara, and all over the place--“Hail fellow, well met” with
everybody except the aristocrats and the old Tories; for he showed
symptoms of independence of view and of likings for the company of “the
Boys,” which led to some friction with the staunch Conservatives and
strong Protestants who regarded themselves as the salt of the earth.’
FitzGibbon’s Christmas parties at Howth--an institution justly
celebrated since, but misunderstood by many, as a gathering of notable
men--had begun in the bivouac of six close friends in a half-finished
house on Innocents’ Day, 1875. The number grew as the years passed by.
Lord Randolph came first in 1877 and was accepted as its youngest member
into a circle which included David Plunket, Edward Gibson, Baillie-Gage,
Webb-Williamson, Professor Mahaffy, Morris Gibson, Father James Healy,
Dr. Nedley, and other wise and merry Irishmen. The nights were consumed
with whist, chaff, and tobacco; and the intervening days spent in
climbing the Hill of Howth or listening to the ‘words of wisdom from
Morris’ which became one of the constant features of the entertainment.
These parties were always a great delight to Lord Randolph and during
the rest of his life nothing, which could by any effort be thrust aside,
was ever allowed to stand in the way of his visit.
Lord Randolph had not been very long in Dublin when he was invited to
move a resolution at the annual meeting of the Historical Society of
Trinity College. This was a function of no little importance. The
Historical Society may be said to correspond to the Oxford Union and
members of the one are honorary members of the other. But it is the
custom of the Irish body to inaugurate the session of each year with
special ceremony. The President of the year, the Auditor, as he is
called, presents and reads an address which he has himself prepared, and
this then forms the subject of the speeches, in which various
resolutions are moved. A distinguished company assembles. The platform
is occupied by the leading figures of the Irish Church, Bench and Bar,
and the body of the great dining-hall is filled to overflowing with
keen-witted and usually uproarious undergraduates. Before this
audience--the most critical outside the House of Commons he had yet
ventured to address--Lord Randolph was now called.
The Auditor of the year, Mr. C. A. O’Connor, had chosen for his address
‘The Relation of Philosophy to Politics,’ a subject not inappropriate in
a University that, as it proudly asserts, had ‘nurtured the philosophic
mind of Burke and cradled the patriotism of Grattan.’ The first
resolution, of which the Attorney-General had charge, was one of thanks
to the Auditor, and Lord Randolph was required to propose the second:
‘That the Auditor’s address be printed and preserved in the archives of
the society.’ He began by suitable acknowledgments of the honour of the
invitation and in praise of the address. The Auditor, he said, had
deprecated the slenderness of the connection between politics and
philosophy at the present day and looked forward to a time when politics
would be subservient to philosophy. Well, but philosophy was a very
comprehensive word, and one would like to know to what system of
philosophy the Auditor referred. There had been in the ancient world
three principal schools of philosophy: there was the school of the
Stoics--a most disagreeable school; the school of the Platonists--a most
unintelligible school; and the school of the Epicureans--a most
attractive school.
‘Perhaps,’ he continued, ‘I may be permitted to think that there is a
connection, almost an intimate connection, between the philosophy of the
Epicurean school and what is known as Conservative politics. To let
things alone as much as we can; to accustom ourselves to look always at
the brightest side; to legislate rather for the moment than for the dim
and distant future, gratefully leaving that job to posterity, and thus
making all classes comfortable--these are, as I understand them, the
maxims of what we know as Conservative politics.’ He went on to speak of
Ireland in 1877 and to praise ‘New Ireland,’ a book by Mr. A. M.
Sullivan, then lately published, which had excited much attention. All
this and more, delivered with much grace and humour, made a most
favourable impression on the assembly. The newspapers in their articles
and accounts the next day were flattering to the orator and the
confidence, which his Irish friends were beginning to feel in his
abilities, was sensibly increased.
Before Lord Randolph had been many months in Ireland he began to form
strong opinions of his own on Irish questions and to take a keen
interest in politics. He was soon in touch with all classes and parties.
He watched Irish administration from the inside, and heard what was said
about it out-of-doors. All the official circle were quite ready to
impart their information to the son of the Lord-Lieutenant. At Howth and
in FitzGibbon’s company he met all that was best in the Dublin world. He
became an active member of the Dublin University Club and a frequent
guest at the Fellows’ Table in Trinity College. His relations in
Ireland, the Londonderrys and Portarlingtons, impressed him with the
high Tory view. He became very friendly with Mr. Butt, who with Father
Healy often dined at the Little Lodge and laboured genially to convert
Lady Randolph to Home Rule. Indeed, he saw a good deal more of
Nationalist politicians than his elders thought prudent or proper. The
fruits of this varied education were not long concealed by its green
leaves.
A sentence at the end of a speech which he made during the session of
1877 on some small matter of Irish administration reveals the general
current of his mind. He expressed his regret for having said--in his
maiden speech three years before--that Dublin was ‘a seditious capital.’
‘I have since learned to know Ireland better.’ It was time indeed that
some Englishman should ‘learn to know Ireland better.’ Under a glassy
surface forces were gathering for a violent upheaval. Mr. Butt’s
leadership of the Irish party gave no pleasure to his countrymen. He had
united the various sections of Irish members in a policy of conciliatory
agitation for Home Rule. He had, indeed, invented the name ‘Home
Rule’--since become the very war-cry of prejudice--to soothe and
reassure British minds likely to be offended by the word ‘Repeal.’ His
authority was now to be seized by a young man of very different temper.
Parnell was a squire, reared upon the land, with all those qualities of
pride, mettle, and strength which often spring from the hereditary
ownership of land. Butt was a lawyer, and his world was a world of
words--fine words, good words, wise words--woven together in happy
combinations, adroitly conceived, attractively presented; but only
words. Butt cherished and honoured the House of Commons. Its great
traditions warmed his heart. He was proud to be a member of the most
ancient and illustrious representative assembly in the world. He was
fitted by his gifts to adorn it. Parnell cared nothing for the House of
Commons, except to hate it as a British institution. He disliked
speeches. He despised rhetoric. Butt trusted in argument; Parnell in
force. Butt was a constitutionalist and a man of peace and order;
Parnell was the very spirit of revolution, the instrument of hatred, the
agent of relentless war.
The conduct of English parties did not strengthen the position of Mr.
Butt. They listened to his arguments with great good-humour, and voted
against him when he had quite finished. He was regarded as an exemplary
politician and his Parliamentary methods were considered most
respectable. Ministers paid him many compliments. They and their
followers and their Liberal opponents contributed cogent and interesting
speeches to the Home Rule debates which he inaugurated year after year.
Mr. Disraeli in particular made a very brilliant and witty speech upon
the subject in 1874. But they conceded him nothing. No British
Government could have desired a more temperate, courteous, or reasonable
opponent. Never were courtesy and reason more poorly served. The Irish
legislation for which Mr. Butt pressed was neglected by the Government
and disdained by the House. Session after session proved barren. At
every meeting of Parliament Mr. Butt was ready with his programme. At
every prorogation he departed empty-handed. The debates on Wednesday
afternoons were so largely occupied with his proposals that the Cabinet
and the Conservative party were wearied with perpetual Irish
discussions. ‘What am I to say to this?’ asked the Law Officer, on one
of these occasions, of the Prime Minister. ‘Speak,’ replied Disraeli,
‘for fourteen minutes and say nothing’--a modest request well within the
compass of a semi-legal, semi-political functionary. This was typical of
the attitude of power towards Irish affairs.
In the session of 1876 nine Bills dealing with land, education, rating,
electoral reform, Parliamentary reform, judicial and municipal
reform--all burning Irish questions--were introduced by the Irish party.
Few were considered. All, except two of minor importance, were cast out.
The claims of Ireland upon Parliament were real and urgent. The Chief
Secretary pressed upon the Cabinet earnestly, but in vain, the necessity
for land legislation. Neither the Parliamentary force nor time could be
found. Mr. Butt introduced a Land Bill of his own--very tame by
comparison with subsequent enactments. It was rejected by 290 votes to
56. Nearly thirty measures dealing with the land question alone, brought
forward by Irish members between 1870 and 1880, perished in the
wilderness.
It should not be inferred that no Irish Bills were carried by the
Government. Indeed, some of the measures passed during this Parliament
are still the law on the matters to which they relate. But the Chief
Secretary was the youngest member of the Cabinet, and the Irish Tories
in the House, led by Mr. Kavanagh, being more numerous and even more
powerful than in our own time, were able to make anyone who displayed a
liking for change sensible of their severe displeasure. On one occasion
indeed, when Sir Michael Hicks-Beach had extended Government support to
the ‘Municipal Privileges Bill’ and to a Bill for assimilating the Irish
municipal franchise to the English, they lost no time in sending a
round-robin to the head of the Government requesting him to dismiss the
delinquent Minister. Disraeli returned a suitable reply to this; but the
Chief Secretary was forced to refuse the concessions he had desired to
make. And although from year to year he succeeded in passing a series of
Bills dealing with such subjects as Licensing, Public Health, Lunacy,
Jury Qualifications, Prisons, County Courts, and Intermediate Education,
he could not free Irish Parliamentary action from discredit in Irish
eyes.
Mr. Butt was patient; he believed in patience; he counselled patience to
his followers. The majority of them were willing to accept his views. He
was opposed to ‘a policy of exasperation.’ He thought that reason would
prevail and that violence of any kind would estrange ‘our best friends
in England.’ He believed, not without foundation, that to injure a
representative institution was to strike democracy at its heart.
‘Gentlemen first, patriots afterwards’ was the motto of his followers.
And in return they received that form of respect which, being devoid of
the element of fear, is closely akin to contempt. Had the Government of
Mr. Disraeli been gifted with foresight beyond the scope of ordinary
British Administrations they would by timely concessions, by some few
substantial gifts, have vindicated constitutional agitation. But they
went their way, living from hand to mouth and from week to week, meeting
their daily troubles with such expedients as came to hand. ‘If pure
advocacy--able, earnest, courteous--could have won the Irish cause,’
writes Parnell’s biographer, ‘Mr. Butt would have succeeded. It could
not, and he failed hopelessly.’[5] A new leader with new weapons was at
hand.
Judged by all the available standards, Mr. Butt’s position as leader of
the Irish party at the beginning of 1877 was secure. He was the most
brilliant Irishman in Parliament. He had defended, at much personal
sacrifice and with immense ability, the Fenian prisoners of the
‘sixties. He was the founder of the Home Rule League and apparently its
perennial president. The whole Irish party in the House of Commons was
at his back. Whatever of Parliamentary prestige can be enjoyed without
executive power supported him. Moreover, in all the personal relations
of life he had great advantages. He was genial, tolerant, and kindly,
with a smile and a handshake for all, and generous to a fault with his
personal friends. Parnell had nothing to offer. He was almost unknown
and, even so, distrusted as a landlord. He was a young man with a
forbidding manner and almost inarticulate. In a nation preternaturally
eloquent he could scarcely jerk out his most familiar thoughts. No
conflict could well have appeared more unequal in conditions or more
contrarily decisive in result than the duel between these two men.
Obstruction was an ugly novelty to the Parliament of 1874. Some ominous
improprieties had marked the resistance to the Irish Church Bill, the
Ballot Bill, and the Bill for the Abolition of Purchase in the Army,
during Mr. Gladstone’s Administration; but no serious deadlock had
arisen. Suddenly the House of Commons awoke to the fact that
half-a-dozen of its members were persistently and deliberately engaged
in paralysing its business. The procedure of those days offered a virgin
field. No closure terminated the debate. No Supply rule regulated
financial business. No restriction was imposed upon the right of members
to move to adjourn the debate or the House or to report progress in
Committee. The minority was restrained only by custom and awe. It now
appeared that a few members were resolved to destroy conventions which
had been consecrated by centuries of observance.
The mutineers were so few in number that they excited almost as much
surprise as irritation. Public reprobation, newspaper abuse,
Parliamentary disgust, were directed upon them in vain. The leaders of
the Opposition vied in terms of condemnation with Her Majesty’s
Ministers. The Irish party was shocked and silent. Nothing availed
against men whose only object was to inflict an outrage upon Parliament,
and who gauged their success by the indignation and sorrow they created.
At length, during one weary sitting, in an evil hour for his own
authority, Mr. Butt was persuaded to denounce the obstructives and to
declare, amid resounding English cheers, his deep detestation of their
tactics. But the censure which was so general in England awoke its
counter-cry across St. George’s Channel. The measure of British hatred
and contempt became the measure of Irish sympathy and partisanship.
‘Parliamentarianism,’ writes Mr. Barry O’Brien drolly, ‘was apparently
becoming a respectable thing. It might be possible to touch it without
being contaminated.’ The Fenian organisations, long disdainful of Mr.
Butt’s constitutional methods and confronted at every session with their
utter futility, turned with interest to the new man who moved with
unconcerned deliberation into the centre of the stage and dealt with
others as though it was his birthright to command and theirs to serve
him. Delicate and subterranean negotiations followed with secret
societies who were reluctant to compromise the purity of their
revolutionary creeds by any paltering with half-measures or
pseudo-constitutional agitation. Sympathetic acquiescence--if not,
indeed, actual co-operation--was at length almost unconsciously
conceded. In two years Mr. Butt was broken. The Home Rule Confederation
cast him off; his friends sorrowfully but unhesitatingly deposed him;
his followers enlisted with the conqueror. Mr. Butt’s end was
melancholy. Hunted and harassed by debt and illness, worn with prolonged
exertions and mortified by supersession and defeat, he lived only to see
his authority exercised by another and the land for which he had
laboured, not unfaithfully, darkened by famine and smouldering with
revolt. He died early in May 1879 and the usurper strode forward to
encounter many adventures and a still more tragic fate.
Lord Randolph Churchill was a silent, though not unmoved, spectator of
the early stages of this drama in the House of Commons, and in the
autumn, at the dinner of the Woodstock Agricultural and Horticultural
Show (September 18), he expressed his opinion upon them with unguarded
freedom, much to the astonishment and displeasure of his family. This
speech is the first which reveals the perfectly independent movement of
his mind and the shrewd insight which guided it. He could not vote for
Home Rule, he said, because without the Irish members more than
one-third of the life and soul of the House of Commons would be lost.
‘Who is it, but the Irish, whose eloquence so often commands our
admiration, whose irresistible humour compels our laughter, whose fiery
outbursts provoke our passions?’ Banish them, and the House of Commons,
composed only of Englishmen and Scotsmen, would sink to the condition of
a vestry. ‘I have no hesitation in saying that it is inattention to
Irish legislation that has produced obstruction. There are great and
crying Irish questions which the Government have not attended to, do not
seem to be inclined to attend to, and perhaps do not intend to attend
to--the question of intermediate and higher education, and the question
of the assimilation of the municipal and Parliamentary electoral
privileges to English privileges--and as long as these matters are
neglected, so long will the Government have to deal with obstruction
from Ireland.’ Truths, he said, were always unpalatable, and he who
spoke them very seldom got much thanks; but that did not render them
less true. England had years of wrong, years of crime, years of
tyranny, years of oppression, years of general misgovernment, to make
amends for in Ireland. The Act of Union was passed, and in the passing
of it all the arsenal of political corruption and chicanery was
exhausted, to inaugurate a series of remedial and healing measures; and
if that Act had not been productive of these effects, it would be
entitled to be unequivocally condemned by history, and would, perhaps,
be repealed by posterity. It was for these reasons that he should
propose no extreme measures against Irish members, believing as he did
that the cure for obstruction lay not in threats, not in hard words, but
in conciliatory legislation.
This speech attracted attention in various quarters. Mr. Parnell, who
spoke three days later in Paisley, alluded to it at some length and
declared that if the Government would pass certain measures dealing with
the questions mentioned, they would not be disturbed next session by
Irish obstruction. The _Morning Post_ expressed its displeasure in a
leading article. ‘This is the language of Mr. Parnell and his
colleagues, and it is the argument on which the Home Rule movement as
well as the Obstructionist movement is based.’ As to Lord Randolph’s
remarks about the Union--‘It is no exaggeration to say that neither Mr.
Parnell nor Mr. Butt could have used stronger language in support of
their respective lines of action. But it is not an Irish Rome [_sic_]
Ruler or an Irish Obstructive who has used it. It is the Conservative
representative of an English borough and the son of the Lord-Lieutenant
of Ireland.’ But it was Sir Michael Hicks-Beach who read Lord Randolph
with the greatest surprise. He lost no time in writing a remonstrance to
the Duke of Marlborough.
_The Duke of Marlborough to Sir Michael
Hicks-Beach._
Guisachan: September 25, 1877.
My dear Beach,--The only excuse I can find for Randolph is that he
must either be mad or have been singularly affected with local
champagne or claret. I can only say that the sentiments he has
indulged in are purely his own; and, more than this, I was as much
amazed as you in reading them, and had no conception that he
entertained such opinions. The conjuncture is most unfortunate and
ill-timed; but at the same time it must be remembered that though
my son, and occupying by leave P. Bernard’s house, he is not in any
way officially connected with me, and the assumption therefore that
he represented my opinions would be both unwarranted and unfair. I
quite appreciate your consideration in making no allusion to his
remarks, and perhaps, unless it should be absolutely required, the
less notice drawn to them the better. Should you, however, feel it
to be necessary to correct misapprehensions consequent on his
speech, I conceive you are perfectly entitled to do so. I can only
repeat that I am extremely annoyed at the folly of his utterance,
which I believe on reflection he will regret himself. Perhaps, if I
might suggest, a letter from yourself to him in your official
position and responsible for Irish business in Parliament might be
the best way of dealing with the occurrence.
Yours very sincerely,
MARLBOROUGH.
These chronicles do not record the explanations or rebukes which must
have followed; but Lord Randolph by no means withdrew or modified what
he had said, and is found writing a few days later to the _Morning Post_
in a most impenitent mood:--
Junior Carlton Club: September 22.
Sir,--In your article of this morning on my speech at Woodstock you
say: ‘But what is even more faulty in Lord Randolph Churchill’s
speech is the assertion, which he indirectly makes, that the Act of
Union had not been productive of those remedial measures which, as
he rightly contends, are the only justification of the means by
which it was passed.’ Owing to an omission in the report of my
remarks you have unintentionally misrepresented me. I said that the
Act of Union was intended to inaugurate, _and had inaugurated_, a
series of healing and remedial measures, and I intimated that
perseverance in a course of conciliatory legislation for Ireland
might be a sure cure for obstruction, and a still further defence
of the methods used to pass the Act of Union.
Again, you say I not only extenuated the conduct of the
obstructionists, but justified it. Nothing that I said at Woodstock
admits of this construction. I never even discussed the conduct of
the obstructionists; I merely discussed the remedies for
obstruction which had been proposed by many public men and by a
great portion of the English press. Surely you would not have said
that Liberal members, in advocating the Irish Land Act and the
Irish Church Act, were extenuating and justifying the Fenian
movement.
You remark, further, that what I called ‘unpalatable plain truths’
were certainly unpalatable, but were not true. Yet the
misgovernment of Ireland before the Act of Union, and the methods
used to pass that Act, are now matters of history. These were two
of my ‘plain truths’; and the third, that the great questions on
which Irish feeling is most deeply interested have been neglected
during the last four years, is in my opinion equally undeniable.
You accuse me of forgetting the Judicature Act, the improved
position of the National school teachers, the grant of 10,000_l._
towards the Irish fisheries. I do not for a moment forget them, but
would think it a mockery to say much of them to a people hungering
for moderate progressive reform, such as we have had in this
country, of their political, municipal, and educational
institutions.
It was because I hope that these questions may be settled by the
Conservative party, and not by the Liberal party or the Home Rule
party, that I made the remarks on which you have animadverted;
little dreaming, however, that the utterances of so obscure an
individual as myself, in the quiet rural locality of Woodstock,
would attract the attention of any portion of the Metropolitan
press. As, however, they have attracted your comments, I am
confident that you will, with your usual love of fair play, insert
this attempt of mine at explanation.
I remain, your obedient servant,
RANDOLPH S. CHURCHILL.
As the differences between Butt and Parnell widened and developed into
the supremacy of the latter, Lord Randolph seems to have been more
amenable to his father’s influence; for in 1879 he voted _against_ a
resolution for the assimilation of Irish to English privileges, and
explained that, although the theoretic argument was overwhelming, the
immediate extension of the franchise in Ireland would destroy the
moderate and constitutional Home Rulers and secure the ascendency of the
more lawless and embittered classes.
During the winter of 1877 Lord Randolph devoted himself, with the
assistance of a young Dublin graduate, to the study of Irish
intermediate education. He took the question up deliberately, as the
first step in public life and a lesson in political work. He spared no
pains. He sounded every well of information. He consulted every shade of
Irish opinion. He questioned a host of Irish pedagogues and wrote to all
the headmasters of the English public schools. An evidence of his
activities is provided by a letter from him to the _Freeman’s Journal_,
published on the last day of the year, on the extinction of the Irish
diocesan schools. These had been set up by Queen Elizabeth under the Act
of 1570. They were ‘diocesan’ only because the diocese was a more
convenient division than a county and were not meant to be under Church
control. The masters were to be appointed by the Lord-Lieutenant and the
endowment was in the form of a charge on the property of the Church. But
the system had only been partially established and the Irish Church Act
of 1869 had, by a strange blunder, treated the schools as Church
property, and, as amended in 1872, it allowed the masters to compound
like incumbents, a proportion of the commutation money accruing to the
‘Church Surplus.’ Money had therefore actually been diverted from
education and Lord Randolph was intent on reclaiming an equivalent sum
for intermediate instruction.
[Sidenote: 1878 ÆT. 29]
But the main purpose of his labours was to draw up a pamphlet taking the
form of a letter to his friend Sir J. Bernard Burke, Ulster
King-at-Arms--who, it appears, had first interested him in this
question--and dealing completely with Irish intermediate education. This
letter was finished in the beginning of 1878, was published in Dublin,
and sold at 6_d._ It showed, on the evidence of various Royal
Commissions, that intermediate education in Ireland was positively
declining, yet that a system of intermediate education had existed since
the days of Elizabeth, in the shape of Royal Free Schools, the Diocesan
Grammar Schools, and the Erasmus Smith Schools, which only required
rearrangement and development. It proposed to extend the system of Royal
Free Schools and to provide more money out of the Church surplus. The
religious difficulty was to be surmounted by appointing lay Catholic
masters in Catholic districts and Protestant masters in Protestant
districts, with a conscience clause, control by local boards (chiefly
lay) and a scholarship system, so as to enable the religious minority in
any district to get education elsewhere. This plan, admirable in itself,
would probably have been found to underrate the religious difficulty and
especially the reluctance of the Roman Catholic Church, evinced in every
country, to tolerate education that it does not absolutely control.
Lord Randolph’s early efforts in the cause of Irish education were not
confined to Ireland or to pamphleteering. From the day when he took it
up to the close of his life, he never ceased his endeavours to promote
progress and reform and to satisfy real wants and aspirations in that
department. In the session of 1878, with a perseverance and persistence
which disgusted the Irish Tories, he brought forward a motion (June 4)
for a Select Committee of the House of Commons to inquire into the
condition and management of the endowed schools of Ireland, with
instructions to report ‘how far those endowments are at present
promoting, or are applicable to the promotion of, intermediate education
in that country, without distinction of class or religion.’ In support
of this he delivered a considerable speech, moderate and argumentative
in tone and crowded with figures and quotations, to prove the many
abuses and anomalies of the Irish education system and the urgent need
of co-ordination and reform.
He had induced Mr. Chamberlain, with whom he was already on friendly
terms, to second the motion; and the case unfolded in these two speeches
was sufficiently strong to impress the Government and the House. The
Irish Nationalists were profuse in their expressions of pleasure that
English members should display so keen an interest in an Irish question.
The O’Conor Don expressed his deep obligation and that of all the
members connected with Ireland, to Lord Randolph for the manner in which
he had introduced the motion. The Government, through its Chief
Secretary, Mr. Lowther (Sir Michael Hicks-Beach having by this time been
transferred to the Colonial Office), offered, in lieu of a select
Committee, a small Commission specially appointed to inquire into the
condition, management, and revenues of the schools; and this being
thought generally acceptable, the motion was withdrawn. The Commission
was duly appointed, Lord Rosse being Chairman and Mr. FitzGibbon and
Lord Randolph both among its members. It laboured zealously and Lord
Randolph travelled all over Ireland--north, west, and south--collecting
information and examining schools. In what manner its researches issued
ultimately, but not until 1885, in an Act of Parliament will presently
be related.
The session of 1878 was dominated by the Eastern Question. The Russian
armies were at the gates of Constantinople. The British fleet lay at
Besika Bay. The early months of the year were passed under the shadow of
imminent war. Resignations broke the Cabinet circle; patriotic choruses
resounded in the streets; the Reserves were called out, native Indian
troops were brought to Malta, and a vote of credit of six millions was
granted by the House of Commons. The course of British diplomacy and
action in Lord Beaconsfield’s hands was tortuous and dramatic.
Absolutely supreme in the Cabinet after Lord Derby’s withdrawal, the
Prime Minister led an enthusiastic party and a puzzled nation through
the Salisbury-Schouvaloff secret agreement and the Anglo-Turkish
Convention to the Congress of Berlin, to the acquisition of Cyprus, to
‘Peace with Honour’ and the Knightsbridge banquet. It is not my purpose
to comment on this or to compare it with that other note which now began
again to resound with ever-growing vehemence and intensity through the
land, until it broke in a storm of passionate appeal and triumphant
eloquence from Midlothian. Never in their life-long conflict were Mr.
Gladstone and his great antagonist so fiercely opposed. Their
differences cut down to the roots of thought. In policy, in principle,
in feeling, in aspiration, they clashed together at every point, large
or small, of political method or morality, and behind them all Britain
was divided into two furious camps. On both sides their colleagues in
Parliament faded into insignificance. On both sides their followers in
the country were whole-hearted in their allegiance. The Conservative
majorities in the House of Commons were tremendous and inflexible on
every issue. The great newspapers, the powers of fashion and clubland,
the pledged partisans in the constituencies, had never before found a
leader so much to their temper as Lord Beaconsfield. Outside Parliament,
with its baffled and divided Opposition and triumphant Ministry, the
Liberal electors hung upon Mr. Gladstone’s words as though he were, as
he often seemed, inspired. And while the imposing array of Toryism
marched proudly and confidently forward, enormous multitudes gathered
eagerly and not less confidently to encounter them.
It is perhaps only in these great stirrings of the national mind that a
man may discover to which of the main groupings of political opinion he
naturally belongs. In all this conflict Lord Randolph Churchill took no
public part. An occasional sarcasm used at some small function, an
unadvertised abstention from some important division, might have
revealed his personal inclinations. But he did nothing to attract public
notice and it is only from his private letters that we may learn how
decided were his sympathies and by what circumstances he was prevented
from action which might easily have altered his whole career.
Parliament met in January 1878, amid conditions of the keenest
excitement and of grave crisis, and the Government forthwith demanded
their vote of credit for six millions to make special naval and military
preparations. Having listened to Ministerial explanations Mr. Forster
moved a reasoned amendment amounting to a flat refusal.[6] After a
debate extending over a week, disturbed by the wildest reports from the
East, Mr. Forster was glad to withdraw his amendment, and, upon the
motion to go into Committee the Government, obtained a majority of more
than three to one (295 to 96).
_Lord Randolph Churchill to Sir Charles Dilke._
St. James’s Club, Piccadilly: February 7, 1878.
My dear Sir Charles Dilke,--As I suppose this debate will come to a
close with an enormous and disproportionate majority for the
Government, and as I think the Opposition have made their stand on
unfortunate ground, and that another fight might yet be fought with
far greater chances of commanding sympathy in the country, I want
to know whether, if an Address to the Crown, praying Her Majesty to
use her influence at the Conference in favour of the widest
possible freedom to Bulgaria, Bosnia, Herzegovina, Thessaly, and
Epirus, and in favour of totally and finally putting an end to
direct Turkish Government in these provinces, was moved by me from
the Tory side of the House, it would be supported by the Liberal
party. I think I could almost make sure of a strong Home Rule vote
on this. I think some Conservatives would support it. If Northcote
does not give some very clear information as to what is going to be
the policy of the Government, I think a motion of this sort should
be made on the Report. The real cry for the country is--not
sympathy with Russia, still less with Turkey, but complete freedom
for the Slav and Hellenic nationalities.
I am off to Ireland to-night. I don’t care enough for the
Government to vote for them.... I shall see Butt in Dublin and
shall sound him on what I have written to you. My address is
Phœnix Park, Dublin.
Yours truly,
RANDOLPH S. CHURCHILL.
And the next day:--
The Castle, Dublin: February 8, 1878.
Many thanks for your two letters. As you say, while everything is
in such an uncertain state nothing can be done. The Government have
too great an advantage; but I think if we are led into taking any
decisive steps hostile to Russia a great effort should be made for
an authoritative declaration that the ultimate aim and object of
any move on our part is the complete freedom and independence of
the Slav nationality, as opposed to any reconstruction of the
Turkish Empire. This, I am sure, should be the line for the Liberal
party and not the ‘Peace-at-any-price’ cry, which it is evident the
country will not have. In this I shall be ready to co-operate
heartily as far as my poor efforts can be any good. It is just
possible that if any movement of this kind be made, it would be
better to originate it from the Conservative side of the House. I
regret to see so much excitement getting up among the masses. It is
dangerous material for Beaconsfield to work on. Will you think me
very foolish or visionary if I say I look for a Republican form of
government for Bulgaria, Bosnia, and Herzegovina as far more to be
preferred to setting up some Russian or German Prince as a puppet
under the name of a constitutional monarchy? Perhaps if these ideas
seem at all to your liking, and if you think they will command the
support of the Liberal party, you would advise me what would be the
most favourable moment for bringing them forward. I shall have some
conversation with Butt, and have great hope of securing a solid
Irish vote on any proposition which might seem to favour the
principle of self-government for nationalities.
A few days later, he telegraphed to Sir Charles Dilke:--
Careysville, Fermoy.
I shall be in London Monday morning. Am not ambitious of taking any
prominent part, unless it might contribute to the advantage of
ideas which we have in common, that a motion should be made from my
side of the House. I leave it absolutely to your judgment.
CHURCHILL.
On this, Sir Charles Dilke wrote to Lord Granville, who replied:--
18 Carlton House Terrace.
My dear Dilke,--Such a motion as Lord Randolph Churchill proposes,
supported by a certain number of Conservatives, might be well worth
consideration, but I doubt his getting any Conservative support,
and a contingent of Home Rulers would hardly justify us for making
another attack on Plevna just now, with the probable alternative of
a crushing defeat or withdrawal in the face of the enemy. I gather
that you are doubtful. What did Hartington think?
Yours sincerely,
GRANVILLE.
Meanwhile Lord Randolph wrote again:--
_Lord Randolph Churchill to Sir Charles Dilke._
February 15, 1878.
I have sent you a telegram which I think you will understand. I am
sure that my views, whatever they are worth, are in accordance with
your speech and Harcourt’s and Gladstone’s on the question of the
future policy of this country. I am convinced under the present
circumstances no motion should be unduly hastened on. There is lots
of time. If I were asked to move a resolution, my speech would be
an attack on Chaplin, Wolff, and the rest of the pro-Turkish party,
confidence in the Government, and an invitation to the Liberal
party to act as a whole. I feel I am awfully young to endeavour to
initiate such a motion; but I am so convinced of the soundness of
our view that I would risk a smash willingly to have that properly
brought forward. If only your party would agree as a whole to
support such a resolution moved from my side, the Government would
at the best have only a majority of 80 after 190; and that would be
a check. I shall see Butt before arriving in London and endeavour
to make him take up a position on this question. The Government
seem to be doing their level best to keep the peace, and perhaps
another debate would not be unwelcome to them.
Lord Hartington, however, agreed with Lord Granville that it would be
useless to attack again without assurance of substantial Conservative
support. Sir Charles Dilke accordingly pressed Lord Randolph as to who
might be expected to vote with him; but Lord Randolph could not be sure
even of one, though he hoped that Mr. Spencer Walpole, the ex-Home
Secretary, would do so. The question of balloting for a private
members’ night seems also to have been considered.
_Lord Randolph Churchill to Sir Charles Dilke._
Castle Bernard, Bandon.
My dear Sir Charles,--I shall be over in London on the 26th
instant, and I think it will be time enough then to make my motion.
I should not like to make it unless it would command the support of
a large number of members. Such support could only come from your
side. I think the Conservative party are gone mad. Their speeches
are calculated to provoke war. As it is so uncertain whether we
shall go to war or a conference, I think I had better wait a little
as--though the motion should, I think, be made in any case--the
terms would vary very much according to either alternative.... I
know of no one but Forsyth whom I could ask to ballot for me. If it
commands much support, I should like to press it even to a
division. Cowen’s speech and the vociferous cheers of the
Conservative party evidently show that the idea of the integrity
and independence of the Turkish Empire is still predominant on our
side; and against that I would try to go a great way. I send a
sketch of the motion and I should of course be very glad if you
would second one of this nature.
Yours very truly,
Randolph S. Churchill.
_Draft of Motion._
That, in view of the extreme suffering so long undergone by the
Slav, Bulgarian, and Hellenic nationalities of Bosnia, Herzegovina,
Bulgaria, Thessaly, and Epirus, and considering that the Turkish
rule over these provinces has now been definitely put an end to,
the efforts of Her Majesty’s Government should in the opinion of
the House of Commons be principally directed towards the
establishment of complete freedom and independence for the
population of these provinces.
All this, however, remained unknown. The Conservative Administration
pursued their course, with the unbroken assent of their followers and
amid the acclamations of London Society, through a succession of
diplomatic sensations and Parliamentary triumphs, towards a vast
electoral disaster.
Devoted as he was to his party, Lord Randolph was by this time
thoroughly out of sympathy with them in their Irish and foreign policy.
The great Minister whose talk had fascinated him at Blenheim ten years
before inspired him no longer. He describes Lord Derby’s resignation as
‘a thunderclap.’ ‘I cannot,’ he writes to his father, ‘like the war
tactics. Calling out the Reserves is like throwing down the glove to
Russia, and I fear she will not hesitate to take it up.’ He was
irritated by the movement of Indian troops to Malta. His college friend,
Lord Rosebery--the partner of those early conversations--was now the
ardent supporter of Mr. Gladstone’s Midlothian campaign. A very little,
I think, at this time might have led Lord Randolph into open quarrel
with the Government. Indeed, it is not improbable, had he in fact moved
his resolution as he wished, that he would have been driven out of the
Conservative ranks altogether. When even Radicals and Liberals like
Cowen and Roebuck were proud and glad to swim with the stream, when
every man who stood against it, was liable to be called a ‘Russian’ or
even a traitor, a single Tory-Democrat must have been overwhelmed. Lord
Randolph no doubt realized this; for he must have felt that, unless he
could take striking and decisive action, it was useless taking any
action at all. But he seems to have looked for an occasion to strike at
the Government safely, and for a victim to appease his wrath. He found
the first in the County Government Bill and the second in Mr.
Sclater-Booth.
The rejection of this measure, which proposed to transfer county
government from Quarter Sessions to boards elected partly by the county
magistrates and partly by Boards of Guardians, was moved, upon its
coming into the Committee, by Mr. Rylands (March 7) from the Liberal
benches. Lord Randolph seconded the motion on totally different grounds
and in a different tone. Inspired by a strong hostility to the
Government, he made his attack from that quarter most dangerous to a
Conservative Minister. The Bill was contrary to Tory principles. The
Cabinet were not responsible for it. All their time had been taken up by
considering how they could possibly get the Fleet into the Dardanelles,
and now their whole time was taken up in considering how they could
possibly get the Fleet out of the Dardanelles. In these agitating
circumstances it would be highly unfair to hold them responsible for
‘the legislative freaks of a minor colleague.’
Wrath was concentrated on the President of the Local Government Board,
who would annihilate Quarter Sessions and descend in all the pomp of
Ministerial authority and ‘a double-barrelled name,’ so often associated
with mediocrity, upon some unfortunate and over-awed Board of
Guardians. A President of the Local Government Board might deal, if he
chose, with amendments to the Poor Law or with sanitary questions, or
with the salaries of inspectors of nuisances. He should not come down to
the House, with all the appearance of a great lawgiver, to reform
according to his own views and to improve in his little way the leading
features of the British Constitution. He urged the Conservative party
not to barter away the old institutions of the country for such
‘Brummagem trash.’ Lord Randolph professed himself utterly unable,
though he had ransacked the whole arsenal, to find words in which to
characterise the measure. In default he described it as ‘just the sort
of little dodge that would be proposed by a President of the Local
Government Board called upon to legislate on a great question;’ ‘another
of those futile attempts to make that impossible mixture of Radical
principles and Conservative precautions;’ and ‘to conciliate the masses
by the concession of principles dear to them, which concessions were
immediately nullified or modified by the details of the legislation.’
‘The Government think the populace will be deceived. They are themselves
the only dupes. “O infortunati nimium sua si mala norint.”’ ‘I have
raised,’ he concluded, ‘the last wail of the expiring Tory party. They
have undergone a good deal. They have swallowed an immense amount of
nastiness. They have had their banner dragged along many a muddy path.
It has been slopped in many a filthy puddle, until it is so altered that
nobody can possibly recognise it. I shall cry “No!” when this motion is
put from the Chair; and if I can only get any support--I care not whence
it comes or from what motive it is given--I should be prepared to offer
an opposition to this most Radical and democratic measure, this crowning
desertion of Tory principles, this supreme violation of political
honesty.’
Such language had not been heard in the House of Commons since Lord
Cranborne had fought the Franchise Bill, and, coming as it did from a
member who so seldom addressed the House, at a time when party
discipline was so good and the prestige of the Government so high, it
created quite a commotion. Mr. Chamberlain, in following, criticized the
Bill from the extreme Radical’s standpoint, but was markedly friendly in
his reference to Lord Randolph’s speech. By the time he had finished,
the surprise of the Ministerialists had subsided sufficiently to reveal
their wrath, and they protested at once against the attack. Mr. Chaplin,
whose political antagonism to Lord Randolph was fated to develop early,
retorted roughly that if such were his opinions he should ‘lose not a
moment in going over to the other side of the House’--advice which is
often given and sometimes accepted. The unfortunate Mr. Sclater-Booth
had hardly the spirit to reply. The Bill had passed its second reading
by a large majority. Its further progress was delayed by Nationalist
obstruction and Ministerial apathy. It was never again debated by the
House, and on July 15 was definitely dropped by the Government. The Duke
of Marlborough does not seem to have been very stern in his rebukes on
this occasion, and no doubt a large and influential section of the
Conservative party secretly rejoiced at the fate of the Bill. ‘I do not
think,’ wrote Lord Randolph to his father, ‘the Government is at all
ill-disposed towards me for my speech against them. I have found them
lately singularly civil. Nobody regrets the Bill, except Sclater-Booth,
who is unapproachable on the subject.’ Thus for the first time the House
of Commons had learned that this silent youth could bite.
[Sidenote: 1879 ÆT. 30]
[Illustration: _Member for Woodstock._]
For the rest of the Parliament Lord Randolph was mute. Scarcely a
mention of his name occurs in the ‘Debates.’ He was absent from many
important divisions. His relations and feelings towards the Government
seem somewhat to have improved as the Russian war crisis receded, and he
remained an impassive spectator of their doings in Afghanistan, in
Zululand, and the Transvaal. Meanwhile the reader may be reminded of the
swift passage of time and of the considerable period which this account
has already covered.
_To his Mother._
Ireland: April 15, 1879.
I write to wish you very many happy returns of your birthday
to-morrow, which is also, as perhaps you may remember, our
wedding-day; and having been married five years I begin to feel
highly respectable.
This weather is certainly very wintry and does not seem to lend
itself to anything congenial, while anything more odious or
unfortunate for fishing cannot be well imagined. I fished for two
days in the Suir and never moved a fish, nor did anyone else.
However, I have added another Irish county (Tipperary) to my
peregrinations in this island.
This is now the fifth birthday you have spent in Ireland and I am
sure it must be satisfactory to you to look back on the years you
have spent there. I do not think you can recollect a _contretemps_
or a cross; and I am sure, if I may say so, no one deserves a
pleasanter retrospect: and believe me, I sincerely hope next 15th
of April will find you as happy and untroubled as I hope you will
be to-morrow.
The wet summer of 1879 produced something like a ‘food and fuel famine’
in the South and West of Ireland. The potatoes failed, grain would not
ripen, and the turf could not be dried. The Government met the danger by
offering the landlords loans on easier terms than those recognised by
law, and cautioned the Irish Poor Law authorities to be ready to
administer additional relief. But official aid was wholly insufficient
without private charity and in these straits, the Duchess of Marlborough
came forward and appealed to the public. She was a woman of exceptional
capacity, energy, and decision, and she laboured earnestly and
ceaselessly to collect and administer a great fund. Its purposes were to
supply food, fuel, and clothing, especially for the aged and weak; to
provide small sums to keep the families of able-bodied men in temporary
distress out of the workhouse; and thirdly, while carefully guarding
against any kind of proselytism, to give grants to schools, so as to
secure free meals of bread and potatoes and, if possible, a little
clothing for the children attending them. The plan unfolded in her
letters to the _Times_ was welcomed not only by the Irish Conservative
press, but by the _Freeman’s Journal_, which then supported Mr. Butt’s
policy and which bore handsome testimony to the efforts made by the
Viceregal family to become acquainted with the Irish people, and to
their great popularity even in the disturbed district near
Portarlington, which was their country seat. The ultra-Nationalist
papers were less kindly, but the fund was warmly supported and grew
apace. The Queen sent 500_l._ and the Prince of Wales 250_l._ By the end
of the year 8,300_l._ had been subscribed; by March the receipts were
88,000_l._; and, before the Viceroy left Ireland (April 21) on the
change of Ministry, the fund was 117,000_l._ Although many subscriptions
were diverted to a separate fund raised by the Lord Mayor of Dublin, the
Duchess of Marlborough’s fund ultimately reached 135,000_l._ Its
administration was entirely free from sectarian or party influence,
Roman Catholics and Protestants being equally represented on the
Committee. Upwards of 80,000_l._ was distributed in relief to the local
committees, 37,000_l._ expended in seed, and 10,000_l._ upon clothing.
The working expenses were under 1,700_l._ In all this Lord Randolph bore
an active part. His whole time was given up to the work of organisation
and distribution and before he left Ireland in the spring of 1880 he had
visited nearly every Irish county and had come into intimate contact
with every class in Irish life. His knowledge of Ireland was soon to be
of service to him.
[Sidenote: 1880 ÆT. 31]
The Government of Lord Beaconsfield approached the election of 1880 with
some inward misgivings. Their party was united and contented. The
_Times_ declared that Mr. Gladstone’s language was extravagant and out
of proportion to any feeling that might exist in the country. The
by-elections were not especially unfavourable to Ministers. But
nevertheless there were causes for anxiety. The lustre had gradually
faded from the ‘spirited foreign policy’ and from the Imperialism of
Lord Beaconsfield and Lord Lytton. Taxation had been increased; deficits
had taken the place of surpluses; no legislative achievements could be
discovered. In India and South Africa useless bloodshed, clotted by
disaster, seemed to be the outcome of British activities. The policy of
the Government in the Near East was stridently asserted by its opponents
to be a failure, if not a fraud. Trade depression, as a reaction from
the ‘boom’ after the Franco-German war, was continuous. Revival was
delayed by the uncertainty of the European situation. Economic weakness
followed diplomatic strength and military exertion. There had been
serious strikes in 1878, and the winter of 1878-9 was marked by acute
distress. The elements of Nature were adverse. Agriculture was vexed
with wet summers and bad harvests and low prices. All Ireland was dark
with gathering storm. There was, no doubt, sufficient reason for
apprehension; but no one foresaw the extent of impending defeat.
‘Lord Beaconsfield,’ wrote Lord Randolph Churchill in 1883,[7] ‘was very
old and very worn when he got to the top of the tree, and he was but
indifferently served by some of his colleagues. Advancing years, an
enfeebled constitution, a singularly exhausting and painful form of
disease, had compelled him to give way to a disposition naturally
indolent and unsuited to the constant mastery of dry administrative
detail. He must often have thought that he had done nearly enough; that
he might with justice allow himself to seek in the distractions of
London society a pleasure and a repose to which, during most of his
life, he had been a stranger. Only the most captious mind could blame
him for this; but this it was, nevertheless, which greatly conduced to
the downfall of his Government. What time he gave to public affairs was
absorbed in studying, with the assistance of the Foreign Secretary, the
various phases of the Eastern complication. All else was neglected.
Finance was left entirely to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, in whose
unaided hands deficits and floating debts grew apace. The other heads of
departments were all allowed to go their own way, doing what seemed good
in their eyes. There was no master mind pervading and controlling every
branch of the Administration. Election affairs and organisation went to
the dogs. The care, the experience, the personal supervision which Mr.
Disraeli, assisted by a few practised hands, had bestowed upon the
preparations for the General Election of 1874 disappeared. A weak but
wide-spreading centralisation enervated the vigour of the provincial
organisation. A stupefying degree of over-confidence, a foolish contempt
for the adversary, a fatally erroneous estimate of the revived
influence of Mr. Gladstone--these causes, and these alone, all of them
preventable, slowly but surely worked the ruin.
On March 8, 1880, Sir Stafford Northcote announced to the House of
Commons its approaching dissolution. The next morning there appeared in
the papers Lord Beaconsfield’s letter to the Duke of Marlborough,
assigning to Ireland the foremost place among the perils and
embarrassments of British dominion. The memorable and prophetic words of
this celebrated document, familiar though they be, require to be
recorded here:--
‘Nevertheless, a danger, in its ultimate results scarcely less
disastrous than pestilence and famine, and which now engages your
Excellency’s anxious attention, distracts that country. A portion of its
population is attempting to sever the constitutional tie which unites it
to Great Britain in that bond which has favoured the power and
prosperity of both. It is to be hoped that all men of light and leading
will resist this destructive doctrine. The strength of this nation
depends on the unity of feeling which should pervade the United Kingdom
and its widespread Dependencies. The first duty of an English Minister
should be to consolidate that co-operation which renders irresistible a
community educated, as our own, in an equal love of liberty and law.
‘And yet there are some who challenge the expediency of the Imperial
character of this realm. Having attempted, and failed, to enfeeble our
Colonies by their policy of decomposition, they may perhaps now
recognise in the disintegration of the United Kingdom a mode which will
not only accomplish, but precipitate, their purpose.
‘The immediate dissolution of Parliament will afford an opportunity to
the nation to decide upon a course which will materially influence its
future fortunes and shape its destiny.’
Members of Parliament were forthwith scattered to defend their seats and
above the tumult and babel which arose from so many contests little was
heard except the reverberating thunders of Midlothian. Lord Randolph
hurried back to Woodstock and arrived, as we may judge from the account
he gave his mother, none too soon. The Blenheim estates had suffered
from the absence of their owner and those dependent upon them felt
acutely the diversion to Ireland and Irish purposes of that personal
sympathy and care without which the administration of landed property
becomes so often at once wasteful and harsh.
_Lord Randolph Churchill to his Mother._
Blenheim: March 21, 1880.
I have to thank you very much for your many letters, which have
been so welcome to me. I have now been round the constituency and
seen everybody, except a few people in Woodstock whom I have not
yet seen, and a few in other parts who were not at home when I
called. I shall take them all up this week, but the work will be
easier now, and I shall have some time for writing to you.
I assure you it has been hard work, and I have not spared time or
trouble; every day this last week I was out by nine and not home
till eleven at night. The results of the canvass will be arrived at
to-morrow when the Chairmen of the various Committees hand in their
reports, but I have no doubt the result will be satisfactory to
you. Every day, however, confirms what I wrote last week; the
continual expression of the labourer in Stonesfield, Coombe,
Handborough, and Bladon is, ‘Yes, I voted for you last time, but I
have been very badly served since,’ and then follows half an hour’s
complaint. The other Party admit that they would never have tried
again, had it not been for these complaints of the labouring men
and the great scarcity of employment.
I know well how difficult, almost impossible, it is to please poor
people. Nor do I blame your agent for not doing all they ask or for
not finding employment for them; that no doubt was out of his
power. What I do blame him for, and what I am sure my father and
you will blame him for, is for having provoked against himself a
great deal of ill-will, and having treated these poor people, and
farmers, with rudeness and worse than rudeness, and this, too,
during your absence, and at a time when the greatest discretion and
temper were wanted for the management of a great estate.
You cannot think how people are looking forward to your return
here; they feel quite jealous of all you are doing and have done in
Ireland. You have made for yourself a great name among the Radical
working men, several of them have spoken to me about you. Several
of them who perhaps would have gone for Hall will vote for me, or
rather for you; but at the same time I feel as I never felt before
how greatly this place and all the neighbourhood depends upon your
care and my father’s attention.
I have a public meeting, probably the last, to-morrow night in
Kidlington. The election will be on April 2, but much work is
needed for the proper preparation and organisation for polling day,
so that the Liberals may this time get their ‘quietus.’
I hope you liked my speech at Woodstock. I was prepared for a row,
but though I had no one with me to help, and although the other
Party was there in great force, helped by a preacher and stump
orator, they heard me with the greatest patience for forty minutes.
The preacher asked some questions and made some remarks, but I am
told that what I said on the Foreign Policy and Home Questions
pleased them much, and that I was considered to have had the best
of the preacher.
I feel so sorry for all this expense coming on at such a time, but
I hope things are going to mend this year. The weather has been
perfect--fine, bright, cold days, worth pounds to the farmers, who
are cleaning their fields with great activity and advantage. A good
harvest this year will do much to set things going; but the serious
part of the matter is that the farmers are so much worse off in
point of capital, and in addition the land is four years to the
bad, suffering from weeds and reduced manure. I fear that even with
good harvests the future is full of difficulties to the landlords.
The outlook here at the outset was very alarming, but it is
clearing rapidly. I think I must attend more regularly this
session. Hall hit me rather hard on account of my slack attendance.
I think the Party will keep a fair majority, but they cannot expect
to have quite so many as they had nor do I think it would be a good
thing. I am afraid you will think I have become rather Jingo, but
any lukewarmness at such a moment would be most dangerous.
The election at Woodstock took place on the second day of the polling
(April 1), and Lord Randolph Churchill was returned--in a total
electorate of 1,060--by 512 votes to the Liberal candidate’s (Mr. W.
Hall, of Lancing, Sussex) 452. Thus Woodstock was snatched from the
burning; but throughout the kingdom general disaster overwhelmed the
Conservatives. In the first four days the Conservative majority had been
destroyed by their losses in the boroughs. The counties endorsed and
even emphasised the decision. When the returns were complete, Mr.
Gladstone had obtained a Liberal majority of 54 over all other sections
in the House. The dissolved Parliament had numbered 351 Conservatives,
250 Liberals, and 51 Home Rulers. The new Parliament assembled with 353
Liberals, 237 Conservatives, and 62 Home Rulers.
In two chapters two-thirds of Lord Randolph’s life have been described.
Starting with many advantages, he was still at thirty-one obscure. Four
or five speeches in as many years had made no particular impression, and
the House of Commons had scarcely formed an opinion about him. Stirred
on the one hand by liberal and pacific sentiments and restrained on the
other by affection for the Conservative party, to which he was bound by
so many ties of friendship and tradition and above all by respect for
his father, he was prevented during those years from taking any clear or
decided action which might have enlisted sympathy or commanded
attention. Out-of-doors among the people he was unknown. Adverse social
influences denied the recognition of such ability as he had shown. His
party was now humbled in the dust. His own family borough lay under the
shadow of an approaching Reform Bill. New Ministers and new measures
occupied the public mind. Grave and violent dangers beset the State and
no one troubled to think about an undistinguished sprig of the nobility.
Nevertheless his hour had come.