It was a very painful scene that I witnessed on Wednesday in

Downing Street. I had never happened to see anyone die before--and

therefore, even apart from the circumstances, the suddenness of

this unexpected death would have been shocking. But here was, in

addition, the thought of our thirty years’ companionship in

political life; and the reflection that now, just before this

sudden parting, by some strange misunderstanding which it is

hopeless to explain, I had, I believe for the first time in my

life, seriously wounded his feelings. As I looked upon the dead

body stretched before me I felt that politics was a cursed

profession.

I have received very kind and considerate letters from his family.

Thanking you again for the thoughtfulness of your letter,

Believe me

Yours very truly,

SALISBURY.

As the time for the meeting of Parliament drew near, it was necessary

for Lord Randolph to think very carefully upon the explanation he would

offer for the unexpected events of the Recess. Circumstances complex and

adverse made his position one of extreme disadvantage. It was hardly

possible for him to move in any direction without estranging friends or

exposing himself to enemies.

The spirit of his differences with Ministers was vital, but the actual

matter in dispute could only be regarded as trivial. Two courses

therefore presented themselves at the outset: either to fight on the

large ground of the unsatisfied aspirations of Tory Democracy, as set

forth in his letter to Mr. Akers-Douglas, or upon the small ground of

the Estimates. The first involved a downright assault upon the

Conservative Government, an irreparable breach with its leaders, and the

breaking of many old friendships and associations. The second whittled

the difference down to a question of not very important figures, on

which Parliament must soon decide. The one promised a chance of

successful strife, the other offered a prospect of reconciliation; the

one led soon into very deep waters, the other lay among the shallows.

But, in all respects save one, the first was the path of courage, of

consistency and perhaps of prudence also. It suited his nature. It freed

his hands. It justified and explained his action in a manner which the

people could easily understand. ‘I fondly hoped to make the Conservative

party the instrument of Tory Democracy. It was “an idle schoolboy’s

dream.” I must look elsewhere.’

No doubt that was the road to tread. It might have ended in Liberalism;

but from that he would not at a later date have shrunk. Chamberlain and

Rosebery were better friends to him personally and politically than

Smith or Hamilton or Balfour could ever be. To act with the Conservative

party meant political paralysis, perhaps for years. To stand

independently, or upon a moderate Liberal platform, putting away once

and for all any thought of reconciliation, meant usefulness, support and

growing power. But one great barrier interposed. The Union was a cause

to which he was pledged, not only by memorable votes and speeches, but

by profound and unalterable conviction.

So this first course, with its various chances, was forbidden. The

second was scarcely more satisfactory and far less congenial. In

whatever proportion he restricted the dispute to a mere question of

expenditure, he deprived himself of the power of defending his

resignation, and therefore weakened his position with the country. To

fight on finance alone, when the other differences were known to his

late colleagues, looked like repentance and admission of error. It was a

course which counted on generosity where generosity was lacking; which

counted on gratitude for past services, while in politics present and

proximate utility is mainly considered; and it was a course requiring in

an unusual degree patience and restraint. But, so far as outside

influences could avail, this course was made easy for him. His friends

and his family besought him not to break with his party. Ministers

addressed him in terms uniformly friendly and considerate. ‘The subject

on which he parted from us,’ wrote Lord Salisbury to the Duchess of

Marlborough on January 11, ‘is one which the House of Commons must

decide one way or the other very shortly, and no one would dispute that

its decision, once gained, must be accepted. After that it will be quite

open to Randolph to rejoin this or any other Conservative Ministry as

soon as opportunity occurs.’

And Mr. Smith on the 13th:--

You have a perfect right to hold the views you expressed to me in

my room. I differed then and now from you, but it may turn out that

you are right and that I am wrong, and I shall accept a

demonstration of that fact without the very slightest personal

annoyance.

But, however that may be, all that has happened is an incident in

the career of a young politician of quite a temporary character,

and, unless my life is cut short as Northcote’s has been, I look

forward with confidence to a future--and the sooner it comes the

better--when I shall be in the retirement I long for, and you will

be leading a great party with prudence and firmness and courage.

Lord Randolph chose to follow the second course; he avowed himself an

independent supporter of the Government, and his formal request for

permission to explain made no allusion to differences on foreign policy

or legislation.

_Lord Randolph Churchill to Lord Salisbury._

2 Connaught Place, W.: January 18, 1887.

Dear Lord Salisbury,--May I ask you to be so kind as to obtain for

me Her Majesty’s permission to make to the House of Commons the

necessary explanation of my reasons for quitting the Government? I

propose, if this permission is granted, to state briefly the nature

and amount of the expenditure to which I objected, to answer with

equal brevity certain precipitate criticisms on that resignation to

which many Members of Parliament and much of the Press are

committed, and to conclude by reading the three letters which

passed between us, viz. mine of the 20th, yours of the 22nd, and my

reply of the same date.

Believe me to be

Very truly yours,

RANDOLPH S. CHURCHILL.

_Lord Salisbury to Lord Randolph Churchill._

10 Downing Street, Whitehall: January 19, 1887.

My dear Randolph,--In pursuance of a message I got from you through

Douglas I asked and obtained the requisite permission when I was at

Osborne the other day. The form in which you propose to give your

explanation seems to me quite correct.

Believe me

Yours very sincerely,

SALISBURY.

Mr. Goschen having failed to secure election at Liverpool, Parliament

met upon January 27 without a Chancellor of the Exchequer. The Speaker

had indicated the proper time for explanation; and when Lord Randolph

Churchill rose, immediately after the notices of motion, from the second

bench above the gangway, the appearance of the House was a proof of the

interest with which that explanation was awaited. He followed

punctiliously the course he had indicated in his letter to the Prime

Minister; and his tone, though a little sarcastic, was not at all

unfriendly to the Government. As a statement his speech was

unexceptionable in all respects; as an explanation it was necessarily

inadequate. Little was added to the knowledge of the public; and

although the calm antagonism of the letters on both sides was not

without its effect upon the House, the general feeling when he sat down

was of disappointment. This impression, which was deepened by a most

dreary fog which invaded the chamber, found abundant record in the

prints of next day.

He spoke again three days later in the debate on the Address, following,

as it happened, in succession to Mr. Bradlaugh. Preserving throughout a

jaunty air of independence, he nevertheless made it perfectly clear that

he intended to remain a supporter of the Union and of the Conservative

Administration. He derided the Plan of Campaign, and defended and

eulogised, with humour and effect, the policy of the Chief Secretary,

who had been, as usual, assailed by the violence of one Irish party and

by the suspicions of the other, and who was, moreover, suffering from

the severe affection of the eyes which was soon to necessitate his

retirement. He pointed out that the Procedure proposals, for which he

had been personally so much attacked, were in precisely the same form as

when he resigned, and that the legislative programme of the gracious

Speech ‘bore a strong family resemblance to that set forth in a certain

speech made in Kent not long ago.’ He noticed the revival of the old

paragraph that the Estimates had been framed _with due regard to economy

and efficiency_. ‘They must have been greatly altered,’ he observed,

‘since I left the Cabinet.’ He spoke, in characteristic words--the truth

of which has not been unpaired by time--of the difficulties which the

House of Commons encounters in any attempt to control or even criticise

expenditure.

But the passage of greatest significance referred to the Chamberlain

overtures and negotiations with the Gladstonian Liberals, which were at

that time taking the form of the celebrated Round Table Conference. ‘I

notice,’ he said, ‘a tendency of the party of the Union to attach too

much importance to precarious Parliamentary alliances, which are as

transient and uncertain as the shifting wind, and too little to the far

more important question how to keep the English people at the back of

the party of the Union. When I was in the Government I made it my

constant thought and desire to make things as easy as possible for the

Liberal Unionists, to introduce such measures as they might

conscientiously support as being in accordance with their general

principles, and to make such electoral arrangements as might enable them

to preserve their seats. But I frankly admit that I regarded the Liberal

Unionists as a useful kind of crutch, and I looked forward to the time,

and no distant time, when the Tory party might walk alone, strong in its

own strength and conscious of its own merits; and it is to the Tory

party, and solely to the Tory party, that I looked for the maintenance

of the Union.’ He went on to say that Mr. Chamberlain, in these

negotiations, was pursuing ‘an erroneous and mistaken course.’ ‘The Tory

party will, I think, never follow a line of policy which by any

reasonable construction can create in Dublin anything in the nature of

an Irish Parliament. That is our clear position, from which, under no

pretence of local self-government, shall we depart; and it would be well

for the right honourable gentleman the Member for Birmingham, who is now

indulging in such extraordinary gyrations, to recognise that, whatever

schemes of Home Rule for Ireland may commend themselves to him, they are

not, under any circumstances, likely to commend themselves to members on

this side of the House.’

These somewhat discursive observations were in themselves brilliantly

successful and were heard by the House with keen pleasure and attention.

‘Very many thanks for last night,’ wrote Beach; ‘you are a good friend.’

But in spite of this, and although the intervention attracted so much

notice from subsequent speakers as to excite the remark that the debate

proceeded less upon the Queen’s Speech than upon Lord Randolph

Churchill’s, it cannot be called well conceived. The weak, and at the

same time the strong, point was the ‘crutch.’ Those who were independent

of such support laughed and laughed again; but the Liberal-Unionist

members, and those who owed their seats to Liberal-Unionist votes, were

at once offended and alarmed. Although intended in a spirit of sober

candour, it had about it a suspicion of reckless mischief, which his

many opponents were not slow to turn to profit. Mr. Chaplin belaboured

him vigorously in reply. The Unionist newspapers adopted uniformly an

attitude of solemn rebuke; and while Government speakers in a long

succession denounced or deplored such disrespect of loyal allies, Mr.

Jennings alone among his friends was able to offer an effective defence.

Moreover, the Liberal Unionists at this stage of their transition were

the natural and legitimate associates of a Democratic Tory. They looked

to the progressive elements in the Conservative party to make the

Unionist alliance easy in Parliament and to give them countenance in the

constituencies. Their leaders were far from being unsympathetic to the

cause of economy; and Chamberlain especially, who had shown himself

willing and anxious to co-operate in various ways, and whose position at

this time was difficult, delicate and insecure, had, it must be

admitted, good grounds for his complaint.

_Mr. Chamberlain to Lord Randolph Churchill._

_Private._

40 Prince’s Gardens, S.W.: February 2, 1887.

My dear Churchill,--Why will you insist on being an Ishmael--your

hand against every man? Why did you go out of your way on Monday to

attack me?

You know that I am the mildest of men, but I have a strong

inclination to hit out at those who strike me, and my experience

teaches me that no private friendship can long resist the effect of

public contest.

You and I have plenty of enemies. Is it not possible for us each

to pursue his own way without coming into personal conflict?

Surely we shall have our hands fully occupied without tearing out

each other’s eyes.

Yours sincerely,

J. CHAMBERLAIN.

Lord Randolph seems to have realised that there was for the moment

nothing that he could usefully do; and on the morrow of his speech he

came suddenly to a decision.

_To his Mother._

2 Connaught Place, W.: February 2, 1887.

After great reflection and balancing of everything I have decided

upon a little holiday abroad and am off to-morrow night. I shall be

away, I expect, about six weeks, and H. Tyrwhitt and I contemplate

going to Algiers, Tunis, Malta, Palermo, Naples, and so home. It

will, I think, be a grand rest for me, and good for the nerves. I

don’t see that I can do any good by hanging on here day after day.

The Address will go on for a long time; then will come Procedure,

then Coercion; so that when I come back they will not be much

further ahead than they are now. I think my speech last night did a

lot of good, and H. Chaplin’s violent attack shows how much the

enemy is alarmed. I am told H. C. did not go down very well, and

Jennings answered him capitally. George[61] will watch after my

interests, and I shall ask him to take charge of my correspondence.

I have no information as to what is passing inside Ministerial

circles, but I have an instinctive feeling that all is not right

and that they will come to grief. Beach was very grateful to me for

what I said about him.

I wish I could have seen you before going, for a farewell talk over

everything. I have a lot to do to put things in order and to get

ready.

To Chamberlain he wrote (February 3) in amicable terms, not withdrawing

in any way from his discouragement of the Round Table Conference, but

indicating his difficulties and announcing his project. ‘I do not think

I said anything which ought even to ruffle our private friendship,

which--though it may seem a paradox to say so--is one of the chief and

few remaining attractions of political life. For the moment I am quite

tired and worn out. “Many dogs have come about me, and the council of

the wicked layeth siege against me.” Therefore I seek a temporary refuge

and repose in a flight to the south and to the sun.’

His friends, for the most part, thought him right to go. ‘Be of good

cheer,’ wrote the warm-hearted Jennings; ‘you are by no means alone. As

for the men whom you have put into office, or who would not be in office

but for you, their conduct makes me sick. I am very glad you are going

away for rest and change. It will give time for events to shape

themselves; and when you are gone, you will be missed, and kinder

feelings will enter into the consideration of your position. You could

not do much good just now, and anything that went wrong would be laid on

your shoulders. You will come back in time to save both party and

Ministry from the consequences of their own incapacity. My deepest

sympathies will always be with you in your unequal, but just and

honourable, struggle. I would stake my life upon your ultimate

success.’ Sometimes, perhaps, these wagers are accepted.

The next night--February 3--Lord Randolph left England, and I shall not

offer to the reader other accounts of his wanderings than his own.

_To his Wife._

February 9, 1887: Hôtel Régence, Algiers.

...It is certainly very pleasant getting away from the cold and

worry of London. I have hardly given two thoughts to politics since

I left; but I wonder whether there is still much carping going on

against me, or whether my flight has disarmed my enemies.

_To his Mother._

Biskra: February 15, 1887.

I suppose this will find you back in London. I was so glad to get

your letter, long and interesting, from the Castle. I expect you

must have found it pleasant there on the whole. If anything could

remove any lingering doubts I may have had as to the prudence of

leaving the Government, it would be the charm of this place, which

I should not have experienced except for that rather strong

proceeding.

The weather is beautiful--the air quite cold, and the sun not too

hot. We shall remain here till the end of the week. Harry Tyrwhitt

is a most amiable companion, and possesses the additional

qualification of being fond of chess, so we are never at a loss to

pass the time.

We had a long drive from Batna, twelve hours, but through an

attractive and varied country. This place is right in the true

desert, and is a great grove of palm-trees of all sorts, shapes and

sizes, difficult to get to, but well worth the trouble. In another

two years they will have finished the railway right up to here,

and then the quiet of the place will probably be spoilt.

We shall leave Friday or Saturday for Constantine, and then on to

Tunis. I saw in a French paper that Goschen had got in, but it did

not give the numbers. However, I confess I do not think much of

politics, and rejoice over my freedom and idleness--which I hope

will not shock you.

_To his Mother._

Constantine: February 21, 1887.

I was so glad to find here, on arrival last night, your two letters

of the 10th and 12th. I read and pondered very carefully all you

wrote about what Ashbourne said. But I do not think there will ever

be any question of my rejoining the present Government. When the

old gang with their ideas are quite played out and proved to be

utter failures, then, perhaps, people will turn to the young lot.

Till this time comes, and I do not think it is far off, I must wait

patiently. I consider my position a very good one, and, though it

may seem a strange thing to say, better than if I was in my old

place in the Government. I am not mixed up or responsible for their

policy or their proceedings, which are, I think, faulty and feeble

and hopelessly inadequate to what the times require. I am very glad

Dunraven resigned. He is a man of considerable importance, and has

made a position for himself with the working men.

I am so glad you liked Ireland, and I delight to hear of

Castlereagh’s success. I always felt sure he was admirably fitted

for the post. George writes me invaluable reports on House of

Commons affairs. I should like to form a Government, if only to

give him a real good place; his letters are most able. If you are

giving any little dinners, I wish you would ask Jennings, M.P. He

is a very clever man, and would interest you.

This is certainly a pleasant and amusing country to travel in, if

only the hotels were a little better. The weather, though bright,

is not warm, and I wear thick clothes, as in England.

We go to Tunis to-morrow. I am feeling very well, I am thankful to

say, and keep blessing my stars I am not in the House of Commons.

If people only knew how little official life really attracts me,

they would judge one’s actions differently.

_To his Wife._

Tunis: February 25, 1887.

We have decided to go on to Palermo to-night, for there is no other

boat till to-day week; and if it was stormy weather then, we should

have to cross whether we liked it or no--whereas now the weather is

beautiful and calm, so we take advantage of it to get over the

Mediterranean and hope to arrive at Palermo Saturday evening....

This is a more interesting place than any we have yet seen--much

more truly Eastern. The old native bazaar is delightfully curious.

I bought you a few pieces of stuff which will serve to cover

cushions or to make portières. Having once seen the town, there is

nothing much more to see, and I do not know how we should pass a

week here.... We passed through much beautiful country coming here

from Constantine; it is all well worth seeing. Last night we went

to see Aïss Sawa, an extraordinary troop of fanatic Arabs who dance

and yell, cut themselves with swords, and eat nails, broken glass

and scorpions. I think there is a good deal of humbug and trickery

in it; but it was very curious and very barbarous, and for noise a

pandemonium....

_To his Wife._

Palermo: March 2, 1887.

I have to-day got hold of a whole week’s file of the Times, down to

the 25th, which has posted me up in political matters. I think the

Government are earning a rather second-rate kind of _succès

d’estime_, but I fancy I detect signs of feebleness and

inefficiency, which will become obvious when real difficulty

arises. I own W. H. Smith has done better than I expected, for I

expected a complete breakdown; but, having made that admission, his

speeches read to me most commonplace, and I think before long the

House and the party will get much bored with him. I am amused at

the Government surrender about my Army and Navy Estimates Committee

in reply to a question from George C.[62] I expect the Burnley

election quickened their sluggish economic impulses. The election I

look upon as very significant, and as bearing out what I wrote to

A. Douglas. They may plod on in Parliament, but they are losing

their hold on the imagination and enthusiasm of the country

generally. However, all this is speculation. In any case, I am in

no hurry to come home--and am, too, thankful I went away. Really I

have had a nice time hitherto....

_To his Mother._

Messina: March 9.

Here we are, caught like rats in a trap. Just as we were packing up

yesterday to leave for Naples it was announced that on account of

cholera at Catania quarantine had been imposed in Sicily, and that

we could not leave. This is a great blow, for we do not know how

long we may be detained here. There is nothing to see or do, and

the hotel is dirty and uncomfortable. We are in despair....

_To his Wife._

Naples: March 12, 1887.

I send you the enclosed under what the Foreign Office calls ‘Flying

Seal,’ which means you are to read it and send it on; it will tell

you of our proceedings. At last we have got here, but without

either servants or luggage; goodness knows when they will come.

Harry T. and I made up our minds we would not stand being detained

prisoners indefinitely at Messina. We made a fruitless application

to the Ambassador at Rome to be exempted from quarantine; all

regular steamboats had been taken off, and even if we had got a

passage we should have had to do five days’ quarantine at Gaeta--a

horrible prospect. So we went to the Consul--a character he is! He

introduced us to a man who knew a man who knew some Sicilian

fishermen who for a consideration would put us across the Straits.

_Nous n’avons fait ni un ni deux_, but pursued the project. We

embarked in an open boat at eight o’clock on Wednesday evening in

Messina harbour, with nothing but a tiny bag and a rug, with a

dissolute sort of half-bred Englishman and Sicilian, to act as

interpreter and guide, and six wild, singing, chattering Sicilian

fishermen. We reached the Calabrian coast about 9.30; but the

difficulty was to find a landing-place where there were no

gendarmes or coastguards or inhabitants awake. The last danger was

the greatest, for the peasantry are awfully superstitious about

cholera, and are a wild, savage people; and we might have had rough

treatment if any number of them happened to see us.

At last we found a little fishing village where all was quiet. In

we ran, out we jumped, and off went the boat like lightning. After

clambering up some precipitous rocks, fortunately without waking

anyone or breaking our necks, we found temporary shelter in a

miserable inn, where we represented ourselves as having come by

boat from Reggio, and being unable to get back on account of the

strong Sirocco wind which was blowing. We had to wait about an hour

here all alone, with two wild men and a wild woman, while our guide

was quietly endeavouring to find a conveyance. At last he got a

common cart, and about eleven o’clock we started for the house of

an Englishman at San Giovanni who has a silk mill, and to whom we

had a letter from the Consul. The innkeeper and his companions

asked a lot of tiresome questions and seemed very suspicious, but

in the end let us go quietly. Just after starting we met two

gendarmes, and afterwards two coastguards, but fortunately, they

asked no questions; so everything went well for some four or five

miles, except for the awful jolting of the cart, which exceeded

anything in the way of shaking you ever dreamt of. All of a sudden

the peasant who was driving the mule ran the cart against a great

stone, and sent us all flying into the road. I never saw such a

sprawling spill. Fortunately we were only shaken and dirty, but the

driver was much hurt, which served him right, and he groaned and

moaned terribly for the remainder of the journey; being a big fat

man, he had fallen heavily, and I should not be surprised if he had

since died.

At last, at one in the morning, we reached the house we were

looking for, and had a great business to awaken the people; nor did

we know how we should be received, arriving in so strange a manner.

The Englishman, however, was very good, took us in, gave us supper,

and we lay quiet until the evening of the following day, when we

slipped into the direct train for this place, which we reached

without further trouble. But what a thing it is to have an evil

conscience! I kept thinking that every station-master and gendarme

on the road scrutinised us unnecessarily; and what a trouble and

scandal it would have made if we had been arrested and put in

prison! However, all is well that ends well, and I had the delight

of finding an immense bundle of letters from you and others at the

post here. We had to buy shirts and socks and everything, for we

were without change of any kind; and what the hotel people here

thought of us I cannot imagine. But they were civil and made no

remark. Our quarters are very comfortable after the filth of

Messina, and I think that our journey was adventurous enough to

have taken place a hundred years ago.

I can quite understand the political situation, having read all you

and Curzon and Jennings wrote. For me it is not unsatisfactory; but

for the general Tory prospects it is most gloomy. What a fool Lord

S. was to let me go so easily!

Give Winston the enclosed Mexican stamp.

_To his Mother._

Naples: March 14, 1887.

I was very glad to get your letter of the 7th the day before

yesterday. We are very comfortable and happy here. The weather is

lovely and the hotel most comfortable.

We have heard nothing yet of our servants and luggage, and conclude

they are still at Messina, unable to get away. How fortunate it was

for us that we made the bolt we did! I have not seen anyone here I

know, except one of the FitzGeorges. We have been to the opera and

the circus; both very good. We amuse ourselves by contemplating

excursions to Pompeii and even Vesuvius; but we are both such lazy

sightseers that I doubt whether we shall ever go there. Sitting in

the gardens listening to the band, or driving along the coast, is

more our line.

I have just received a long and most interesting letter from

George. I cannot think for what political reasons anyone should

wish me to return; I could do no good. I make out from the papers

that since I left the Government the Estimates--Army and Navy,

supplementary and annual--have been reduced by over 700,000_l._ If

this is so, some friend in the House should proclaim it. If George

looks at two letters from Jackson[63] just after I went out, among

my papers, and at my speech on resignation, and compares them with

the Estimates actually produced, he will find out if I am right in

my supposition. He might ask Jackson, privately, as a friend, the

truth of the matter. You see, the Government have adopted my

suggestions as to the printed statements of Estimates and as to

Parliamentary Committee; so altogether my action is not unjustified

by events.

Smith seems to make a poor Leader as far as debate goes. He seems

to leave the management of procedure to Raikes and Ritchie and to

be unable to take any part himself. I think they were very foolish

to accept that amendment of Hartington’s; it makes them look more

than ever like a patronised and protected Government. Coercion will

be very difficult for them in view of the reported evidence of the

Cowper Commission. Many Tory M.P.s are pledged against Coercion,

and fear to lose their seats. Beach is a great loss to them in

respect of this question. However, all these things do not interest

me much. _Che sarà sarà._

I shall probably stop a few days in Paris, so as to let the House

rise for the Easter holidays, before I get back. I suppose I must

make a speech in Paddington in the holidays. George might ascertain

from Fardell what would be a good day.

How men may for a time prosper continually, whatever they do, and then

for a time fail continually, whatever they do, is a theme in support of

which history and romance supply innumerable examples. This chapter

marks such a change in the character of the story I have to tell.

Hitherto the life of Lord Randolph Churchill has been attended by almost

unvarying success. His most powerful enemies had become his friends. His

instinct when to strike and when to stay was unerring. Fortune seemed to

shape circumstances to his moods. The forces which should have

controlled him became obedient in his service. The frowns of age and

authority melted at his advance, and rebuke and envy pursued him idly.

All this was now to be changed. During the rest of his public life he

encountered nothing but disappointment and failure. First, while his

health lasted, the political situation was so unfavourable that,

although his talents shone all the brighter, he could effect nothing.

Then, when circumstances offered again a promising aspect, the physical

apparatus broke down. When he had the strength, he had not the

opportunity. When opportunity returned, strength had fled. So that at

first, by sensible gradations, his political influence steadily

diminished; and afterwards, by a more rapid progress, he declined to

disease and death.

When a politician dwells upon the fact that he is thankful to be rid of

public cares, and finds serene contentment in private life, it may

usually be concluded that he is extremely unhappy. Although Lord

Randolph’s letters to his mother, to give her pleasure, were written in

a cheery and optimistic vein, there is no doubt that he felt very

bitterly the sudden reversal of his fortunes and the arrest of his

career. During this voyage, of which he gives so gay an account, he was

afflicted by fits of profound depression and would often sit by himself

for hours plunged in gloomy thought. And I think he had good reason to

be dejected; for although he had parted from his colleagues under all

guise of courtesy and good-will, he knew well that enormous barriers

were building themselves against him, and that no talents, no services,

no needs--short of the bluntest compulsion--would induce them to share

their power with him.

Lord Randolph Churchill procured by his resignation almost every point

of detail for which he had struggled in vain in the Cabinet. The

reductions of 700,000_l._ in the Navy Estimates, which had been conceded

to his insistence, were ratified and maintained by his successor. The

Estimates for the Army, which had been declared utterly irreducible,

were reduced by 170,000_l._ after his resignation. The Supplementary

Estimate of 500,000_l._ for the defences of the Egyptian frontier, to

which he had long demurred, was promptly rejected by Mr. Goschen as an

unauthorised charge on British funds. He might therefore claim with

perfect truth that he had saved the taxpayers 1,400,000_l._; and

although our sense of financial proportion has been largely modified by

time, this was considered in those days a not insignificant sum. It is

not necessary here to examine the policy of these economies. It is

sufficient that they were strongly resisted, in spite of his advocacy,

while he was a member of the Government, and admitted on their merits

after he had resigned.

The coaling stations--of such vital urgency in December 1886--were left

untouched by additional expenditure until 1888, and strengthened then

only to an inconsiderable extent. Seven coaling stations which figured

in the estimates presented to Lord Randolph Churchill--namely, Halifax,

Jamaica, St. Lucia, Esquimault, Ascension, Trincomalee and Sierra Leone,

have been in the light of modern experience reduced (1905) by

Conservative Ministers, the heirs of the Government of 1886, to

‘skeletons,’ on which no money is to be spent in peace time.

The objections which Lord Randolph had entertained to the Eastern policy

which Lord Iddesleigh seemed inclined to pursue, were justified by Lord

Salisbury’s action at the Foreign Office. All idea of interference in

the internal affairs of the Balkan States vanished so completely from

the minds of Conservative statesmen that it was held libellous to assert

that it had ever existed; and the instructions that were sent by the new

Foreign Minister to Sir William White, were of such a nature that Lord

Randolph could say of them, ‘the English people may now be certain that

they are not likely to be involved in any European struggle arising out

of Bulgarian complications.’ The new Procedure rules, which he had been

accused of forcing upon unwilling colleagues, were presented to

Parliament unaltered; the Local Government Bill took the extensive form

he had desired; the introduction of a Whig element into the Cabinet was

secured; and the Dartford programme, for which he had been condemned as

a Radical in disguise, became the prosperous and successful policy of

the Conservative party. The spirit of the Administration and the aims

which it pursued--at home, in Ireland, and abroad--in policy and in

administration, were indeed widely different from those of any

Government he would have guided; but in so far as the special points in

conflict were concerned, Lord Randolph Churchill’s resignation was

vindicated in the most definite and tangible manner by the actions of

those who had most strenuously opposed him.

All this availed him nothing. Ministers in plenty had quitted English

Governments before without dissociating themselves from the party to

which they belonged; but whether their course was inspired by honest

principle or dictated by unworthy motives, whether it was marked by

support of their successors or by intrigues and assaults to procure

their overthrow, scarcely one was more relentlessly assailed than Lord

Randolph Churchill. Even more pertinent and remarkable than the

resignation of Lord Palmerston in 1853 is the case of Lord Salisbury

himself. The Derby-Disraeli Ministry was in 1867 in a minority in the

House of Commons and their position was highly insecure. The question of

Reform pressed upon them, urgent and inevitable. A failure to deal with

it effectively, still more an attempt to shirk it, might have inflicted

enduring injury upon the Conservative party. Lord Salisbury met the Bill

with uncompromising opposition. When Mr. Disraeli stood firm, he

immediately resigned--and not alone; for by his personal influence he

carried with him both Lord Carnarvon and General Peel. In this crisis

nothing but the determination of Disraeli sustained the Government. Yet

Lord Salisbury by writings, by vigorous and even violent attacks, by

co-operation in Parliament with Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Bright, did not

hesitate to compass its defeat. And he was wrong! But how was he

treated? His good faith was never challenged; his disinterested

abandonment of great office was admired; his error was condoned. When

Disraeli returned to power in 1874 he allowed no prejudice or

consideration of former hostility to separate him from the man who had

dubbed him a ‘political adventurer,’ and it was upon that

association--stamped into the imagination of the people by the Congress

of Berlin, that Lord Salisbury’s chief claim to leadership afterwards

rested.

Why, then, was Lord Randolph Churchill so hardly used by the party which

owed so much to his efforts up till the year 1887, and might have often

been grateful for support, and more often still for silences,

afterwards? Why was such unusual and uncompromising advantage taken of

the false step he had made? No doubt much must be set down to the

animosities he had excited; much to the alarm of a Cabinet at so

impulsive and imperious a colleague; something to Lord Salisbury’s

desire that the leadership of the House of Commons and all that might

follow therefrom should be secured to Mr. Balfour. Perhaps, too, they

felt less compunction in dealing with him than with an older man, and

thought with Smith that all this was ‘only an incident in the life of a

young politician’; that ten years later, or twenty years even, he might

serve with his own contemporaries or lead a younger generation. Time

would cool the blood of the Reformer, and the experience of adversity

might temper an impatience born of extraordinary success. Little did

they know how short was the span, or at what a cost in life and strength

the immense exertions of the struggle had been made. That frail body,

driven forward by its nervous energies, had all these last five years

been at the utmost strain. Good fortune had sustained it; but disaster,

obloquy and inaction now suddenly descended with crushing force, and the

hurt was mortal.

CHAPTER XVIII

ECONOMY

When I consider life, ’tis all a cheat;

Yet, fool’d with hope, men favour the deceit;

Trust on and think to-morrow will repay.

To-morrow’s falser than the former day;

Lies worse; and while it says we shall be blessed

With some new joys, cuts off what we possest.

Strange cozenage! none would live past years again;

Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain;

And from the dregs of life think to receive

What the first sprightly running could not give.

DRYDEN, _Aurung-Zebe_.

The position of a Minister who has withdrawn from a Cabinet is always

difficult and peculiar. If for the sake of some principle which he

considers vital he is prepared openly to attempt to wreck the Government

and inflict upon the party a defeat at the polls, and if the issue is

one which must soon be decided, the course, however painful, is plain.

He has only to drive steadfastly on through the storm, like Lord

Salisbury in 1867 or Lord Hartington in 1886, careless of consequences

so long as he does his duty, disdainful of the anger of friends, if he

holds them mistaken, and looking for vindication to the calm, just

judgments of the after-time. But if the question on which he has

separated from his colleagues is not paramount or urgent, and if, while

differing strongly from the Government, he is yet determined not to

injure the party from which that Government is drawn, his position

becomes impossible. The more powerful he has been, the more powerless he

becomes; the higher his office, the greater his fall.

From his place in Parliament he is bound, in common-sense and

consistency, to uphold and justify his immediate contention. It may be

economy; it may be Free Trade. Whenever that subject is raised he must

be in his place, alike for his own defence and for the sake of his

cause, to show that there was good reason for his action and that the

public interest was at stake. If he feels strongly, he will speak

strongly. Convictions harden and grow, and differences magnify and

ossify as the controversy progresses. His party and his former

colleagues are embarrassed by his proceedings, however legitimate or

honest they may admit them to be. The more effective his advocacy, and

weighty his charges, the more they are resented. The Opposition are

naturally pleased. They take from the ex-Minister’s statements whatever

they may consider useful to themselves and they employ his phrases and

arguments to belabour in the House and in the country the party and the

Government they are seeking to overthrow. Thus assailed, the Ministerial

press and the party machine--with all its scribes, agents, orators and

small fry--retaliate after their kind. In a hundred newspapers, from a

hundred platforms, hitherto voluble in his praise, the ex-Minister

becomes the object of depreciation and censure, expressed in varying

degrees of vulgar and untruthful imputation. And all the while, since he

will not declare general war upon his party, he is prevented from

defeating calumny by vigorous action or answering malice by attack.

When Lord Randolph Churchill pressed his charges of extravagance and

inefficiency against the public departments, the party which happened to

be responsible at the time were themselves offended. When the

ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer urged the need of economy and spoke his

mind, in all courteous moderation, upon the financial policy of his

successor, the Government Whips whispered that it was only his jealousy

and spite. If, on the other hand, he had remained silent, the judgment

of the nation on the great question for which he had sacrificed so much

would have gone by default. To do nothing was to abandon his cause; to

move was to quarrel with his party.

These embarrassments are only aggravated when the resigning Minister has

been exercising in the Cabinet a general authority over the whole field

of policy. As Leader of the House of Commons Lord Randolph had become

acquainted with almost every question which was likely at that time to

come before Parliament. On many of these he had formed strong views of

his own. He knew exactly how he had intended to handle them when they

became subjects of debate. When therefore he heard them mishandled, or

a course adopted at variance with Cabinet decisions he had previously

obtained, it was natural that he should wish to criticise or demur. Such

conditions pointed inevitably, if the tension were prolonged, to a total

rupture between the most patient ex-Minister and the most generous

Government; and Lord Randolph was not the most patient of men, nor the

Government the most generous of Governments.

Looking back on the circumstances and events of those years in the light

of after-knowledge, there may be some who will find it easy to say what

Lord Randolph should have done after his resignation. He should have

stated the whole grounds of his difference with the Tory Cabinet,

minimising nothing, keeping nothing back. In two or three speeches in

Parliament and in the country he should broadly have outlined his

general political conception of the course the Conservative party should

follow, and then, unless he was prepared to wage relentless war upon the

Government for the purpose of compelling them to adopt that course, he

should forthwith have withdrawn himself entirely from public life.

Leaving his party in the place of power to which he had raised them,

with all the glamour of three years of cumulative and unexampled success

still untarnished, he might well have been content to stand for a season

apart from the floundering progress of the Administration, leaving to

others to muddle away the majority he had made. And he could have

counted, not without reason, upon the continued affection of the

Conservative working classes. The party press would have been silent or

even conciliatory. The relentless irritation of the machine would have

been prevented. As the years passed by and the discredit of the

Government increased, the Tory Democracy would have turned again to the

lost leader by whom the victories of the past had been won.

Lord Randolph Churchill chose otherwise. He did not lay deep or long

plans. His nature prompted him to speak as he felt, and to deal with the

incident of the hour as it occurred. He was solemnly in earnest about

economy and departmental mismanagement. He wanted to curb expenditure;

and, while at that business, he was not at all concerned with his

‘prestige’ or his ‘career.’ Deeply injurious to himself and to his

influence with the Conservative party as his course ultimately proved,

it was at any rate perfectly simple and straightforward. He returned to

England at the end of March, and plunged at once into the vortex of

politics. In three speeches which he delivered during the month of April

to public audiences at Paddington (where he defended particularly his

resignation), at Birmingham, and at Nottingham, he made clear what his

attitude towards Lord Salisbury’s Government would be. He was entirely

independent of that Government. He had resigned from it on important

grounds of difference. He desired a liberal and progressive policy in

domestic affairs, and he was determined to wage war on extravagance and

expenditure. But in the main lines of their policy he was a supporter of

the Government; and to the cause of the Union, as to the large and

permanent interests of the Conservative party, he remained perfectly

loyal. From these intentions he never in any degree varied or departed

in the years that followed. ‘You are quite right,’ he wrote to

FitzGibbon (November 5, 1887), ‘in supposing that mere returning to

office has never been in my mind. I fight for a policy and not for

place; and when I go back to office (if ever) I shall have secured my

policy.’ A Tory Democratic policy could only be furthered from within

the Conservative party, and to that party he faithfully adhered. Besides

Mr. Jennings, Lord Randolph had two good friends among the younger men

in the House of Commons--his brother-in-law, Lord Curzon, and Mr. Ernest

Beckett, the member for Whitby. These gentlemen stood by him, worked

with him, and rendered him many political services in the years that

followed his resignation, for which they were not extravagantly beloved

in the high places of their party.

With these three exceptions the late Leader of the House of Commons was

entirely alone. To do him justice he made no effort to increase his

following and discouraged several who would have willingly worked with

him. Profoundly as he disagreed with much that the Government did, and

disliked the temper that inspired it, fiercely as he resented the Lobby

slanders and the steady detraction of the party press, never in the five

years that followed--the last five years, as they were fated to be, of

his physical strength--did he contemplate alliance of any sort with the

Liberal party or seek to cause cave, clique or faction in the

Conservative ranks.

The introduction of the Budget on April 21 afforded Lord Randolph his

first opportunity of opening his ‘economy’ campaign. Mr. Goschen’s

ingenious Budget differed widely from the ambitious proposals of his

predecessor. The reductions in the Estimates for which Lord Randolph had

fought were, indeed, maintained--and even increased. The result was a

surplus of 776,000_l._ This Mr. Goschen now increased by an addition to

the stamp duties, yielding 100,000_l._, and by a reduction of the

Sinking Fund and Debt Charge from 28 millions to 26 millions. The total

sum, amounting in the balance to a surplus of 2,779,000_l._, was to be

expended in taking a penny off the income-tax, at a cost of

1,560,000_l._; in reducing the duties on tobacco by 600,000_l._; and by

granting 330,000_l._ in aid of the local rates, leaving a final

estimated surplus of 289,000_l._

The Budget was, on the whole, applauded. The Conservative party, whose

consciences were a little uneasy on financial questions, were delighted.

The very questionable resort to the Sinking Fund--not for any special

emergency nor general scheme of fiscal revision, but simply for the

purpose of courting popularity by inconsiderable reductions of

taxation--was sustained by Mr. Goschen’s financial record. ‘Great,’

exclaimed Lord Randolph Churchill, ‘is the worldly worth of a

reputation!’ In complete good-humour, albeit with a sharp edge, he

rallied the Chancellor of the Exchequer--‘the canonised saint of the

financial purists’--on his lapse from the austere principles he had

formerly professed; and both on the night of the Budget’s introduction

and four days later when he spoke next after Mr. Gladstone, he addressed

to the Government and to the Conservative party earnest counsels of

retrenchment and departmental reform. He added:--

It is not necessary to touch the Sinking Fund. The Chancellor of

the Exchequer has ample resources at his disposal. If he leaves the

Sinking Fund alone, and remits a penny of the income-tax, he will

still have a balance of 400,000_l._ If he does not reduce the

income-tax, and prefers to take off the tobacco duty, he will have

a balance of 800,000_l._ If he touches neither of these, and

relieves the rates, he will have a balance of 300,000_l._ He can do

any of these things if he will only leave the Sinking Fund alone;

and he is touching it for a purpose so paltry and frivolous that I

fail to understand why it entered his mind. I pray the Chancellor

of the Exchequer to believe that I only make these remarks because

of my intense and earnest desire that the present Government--whose

career, I hope, is going to be a long one--may enter upon the paths

of financial stability.

On this Mr. Gladstone enters in his diary: ‘R. Churchill excellent.’

The Parliamentary Committee on Army and Navy Estimates, for which Lord

Randolph had asked at the beginning of the year, had been promised by

the Government in reply to a question, put during his absence, by Lord

Curzon. But weeks and even months were allowed to slip by without the

necessary motion being made. When at length it was put on the paper it

was immediately blocked; and thus it would have probably remained. But

one day, when the first business happened to be the vote for the

decoration of Westminster Abbey, Lord Randolph asked abruptly if the

Government really meant to say that they considered the decoration of

Westminster Abbey more important than a Parliamentary inquiry into the

naval and military expenditure. After this the motion was put down at a

reasonable hour, and it passed by general consent. On May 14 Mr. Smith

wrote:--

10 Downing Street, Whitehall: May 14, 1887.

My dear R. C.,--Before we proceed to nominate the Committee on Army

and Navy Estimates I should be glad to know if you would take a

leading place upon it.

I cannot, of course, nominate the Chairman; but, so far as I am

concerned, I should be very glad indeed if you would take the

Chair, and I should say so to my friends, as I have complete

confidence that your influence would be exercised with absolute

impartiality and for the good of the public service.

Believe me

Yours very sincerely,

W. H. SMITH.

Lord Randolph replied at once in the affirmative; but the delay in

nominating the members continued, and his patience broke again:--

2 Connaught Place, W.: May 24, 1887.

My dear Smith,--I must ask you to excuse me from having the honour

of dining with you to-night. The dinner is, of course, an official

one, and the names of the guests will be in the papers, and it will

be assumed by the public that those who dine with the Leader of

the House are thoroughly satisfied with the policy and conduct of

the Government.

As far as I am concerned such an assumption would be entirely

unfounded. I have watched a great deal in the action of the

Government which I deplore more than I can say; but I cannot pass

over without notice your neglect to nominate the Army and Navy

Estimates Committee last night, or rather this morning, and your

postponing of that most important matter till after Whitsuntide.

The delay in appointing that Committee is scandalous and

inexcusable. It might long ago have commenced its work had the

Government been in earnest about the matter; but last night you

gave me a positive promise that you would nominate it without

further delay, and, relying on that, I spent the evening till 12.30

in examination of the Estimates with two other gentlemen, and,

being then very tired, did not return to the House. I dare say you

are all right in thinking that you can afford to indulge in this

kind of treatment of one of your supporters, but you cannot expect

me to show publicly pleasure or satisfaction. _Hodie tibi, cras

mihi._

Yours very truly,

RANDOLPH S. CHURCHILL.

Smith replied softly:--

3 Grosvenor Place, London, S.W.: May 24, 1887.

My Dear R. C.,--I am very sorry you do not dine with me this

evening, and still more for the cause.

At half-past five this morning I moved that the Committee be

nominated, but I was met by cries from the other side of the House

that it was opposed, and by murmurs from our own benches, and I

felt it was impossible to proceed further at that hour with a jaded

and heated house.

I am sure you would have done as I did if you had been in my place.

Yours very sincerely,

W. H. SMITH.

But the Committee was appointed without further delay.

Meanwhile Lord Randolph had been industriously preparing his general

indictment of War Office and Admiralty maladministration. To the

intricate and detailed information which he had acquired at the

Treasury, he added a mass of material accumulated with the greatest care

and trouble by Mr. Jennings and amplified and checked by various expert

authorities, with whom he was in communication. Basing himself on this

and on the papers presented to Parliament he formulated his charges at

Wolverhampton on June 3. He seems to have believed sincerely that it

would be possible for him to effect a large reduction in the cost of

government. He recalled to his mind the fact that the Government of 1860

was determined on a retrenchment policy, and the Army and Navy Estimates

were in five years reduced from 27½ millions to 22½ millions; and

that whereas in 1868 the estimates were 25 millions, by 1871 they had

been reduced to 21 millions. Such examples may prove the possibility of

retrenchment, but they were the achievements of a giant Minister working

year by year from inside the Cabinet, and using the whole leverage of

the great department over which he presided; and we have since learned

from Mr. Morley’s pages that even in Liberal Cabinets elected on the

famous watchwords of ‘Peace, Retrenchment and Reform’ Mr. Gladstone had

to fight for his economies at the constant peril of his official life.

It is instructive to study the course of an agitation for naval and

military economy directed by anyone outside the circle of the Government

of the day and without the aid of the machinery of State. It may begin

in all undivided earnestness in a simple demand for a reduction of

expenditure. The Government and its official advisers will reply that

they, too, are the zealous advocates of such a policy, if only they can

be shown how to effect it; and they invite suggestions of a specific

character. That is the first stage. Thus challenged, the economist

leaves for the moment the enunciation of great principles of finance and

national policy and descends to grapple with masses of technical

details. He discovers a quantity of muddles and jobs, and arrays

imposing instances of waste and inefficiency. His statements are, of

course, contradicted, and his charges are wrangled over _seriatim_.

Expert is set against expert, and assertion against assertion. The

reformer is accused--not, generally, without some justice--of

exaggeration; and he is in part and in detail inevitably betrayed into

inaccuracy. But in the issue enough is proved to awaken public anxiety

and even indignation. Certain main facts of discreditable and

disquieting character are clearly established. Many weaknesses,

neglects, incompetencies are revealed. There are guns without

ammunition. There are fortresses without provisions. There are regiments

without reserves. There are ships imperfectly constructed. There are

weapons which are obsolete or bad. But in the process of the controversy

the movement has been insensibly and irresistibly deflected from its

original object. It began in a cry for economy; it has become a cry for

efficiency. That is the second stage. The Government and their official

advisers at the proper moment now shift their ground with an adroitness

born of past experience. They admit the damaging facts which can no

longer be denied. The politicians explain that they arise from the

neglect or incapacity of their predecessors. They recognise the public

demand for more perfect instruments of war. They declare that they will

not flinch from their plain duty (whatever others may have done); they

will repair the deficiencies which clearly exist; they will correct the

abuses which have been exposed; and in due course they will send in the

bill to the Chancellor of the Exchequer. So that the third stage of an

unofficial agitation in favour of a reduction of expenditure and a more

modest establishment becomes an agitation in favour of an increase of

expenditure and a more lavish establishment.

All this happened exactly in the case of Lord Randolph Churchill. In his

earlier speeches since his resignation he had confined himself to the

need of retrenchment, and this had been the ground on which he had

fought in the Cabinet. But at Wolverhampton he sought to show that, in

spite of the great and increasing expenditure, the services were in a

wholly unsatisfactory and even dangerous condition. And in this he was

beyond all question brilliantly successful. In a fierce speech of an

hour and forty minutes he unfolded a comprehensive catalogue of

follies. His audience, consisting of about 4,000 persons--mainly

Conservative working men--at first doubtful and apathetic, were

gradually raised, as the newspaper reports testify, to a state of

indignation. With a display of feeling unusual even at a partisan

meeting, and still more remarkable when the currents of ordinary

partisanship were running against the speaker, they interrupted him

repeatedly with cries of anger, and he ended amid a perfect tumult of

assent.

It is not necessary to this account to examine the details of his

charges. Each generation has its own jobs and scandals to confront. The

administrative follies of 1887 have passed away. Some survived, to be

dwarfed by more astonishing successors; others were corrected, but not

extirpated. All have produced a prosperous progeny, nourished in richer

pastures, and attaining proportions of which their ancestors could

hardly have dreamed. The main outlines of the indictment must, however,

be placed on record. The condition of the British Army and Navy in the

year 1887 was, in sober truth, a serious public danger. Mr. Gladstone’s

Government of 1880 had had, during their tenure of office, to deal with

all kinds of military and Colonial enterprises for the effective

execution of which a Liberal Administration is not naturally fitted.

They detested their work heartily; they executed it very badly. In truth

the Cabinet, distracted by the violence of Egyptian and Irish affairs

and the gravity of the Eastern situation, torn by the increasing

demands of Radicalism, and harassed by a relentless Opposition, was

incapable of giving to naval and military matters adequate

consideration. There had followed upon all this the two years of

political revolution with which this story has been largely concerned.

It was natural, it was inevitable, that in the interval which had

elapsed since the great Army Reform Parliament of 1868 much waste and

inefficiency should have crept into the military system; and in the same

period, from considerations altogether outside the course of British

politics, an enormous extension and complexity had affected the

responsibilities and functions of the Navy.

Lord Randolph alleged in respect of the Army that not a single fortress

was properly armed; that no reserve of heavy guns existed; that the

artillery, both horse and field, was obsolete; that the rifle of the

infantry was defective; that the swords and bayonets broke and bent

under the required tests; and that, notwithstanding these deficiencies,

the cost of the land service had increased in twelve years by over four

millions a year. He charged the Admiralty with such waste as exporting

Australian tinned meat to Australia, rum and sugar to Jamaica, flour to

Hong Kong, and rice to India; with making improvident contracts for

ships, engines, and materials of various kinds; with disarming the

Spithead and Portsmouth forts in order to arm warships. He asserted that

the whole of the 43-ton guns designed by the Ordnance Department, on

which 200,000_l._ had been spent, were worthless and liable to burst

even with reduced charges; that the Ordnance officials had been told

beforehand by the principal experts of Messrs. Armstrong that this type

of gun was imperfect; that they persisted in making them; that one of

the guns had already burst; that the others had been condemned; but that

they were nevertheless to be employed on her Majesty’s ships. The most

serious count, however, dealt with various classes of ships which had in

important particulars failed to realise the expectations of the

designers and were in consequence unfit for active service.

He instanced especially the _Ajax_ and the _Agamemnon_, the battleships

of the _Admiral_ class and the _Australia_ class of cruisers. Of the

armoured cruiser _Impérieuse_ he declared that she drew four feet more

water than was expected, with the result that the armour which should

have been above water was now below water, and in consequence the ship

was actually unprotected. ‘The result of all this is that in the last

twelve or thirteen years eighteen ships have been either completed or

designed by the Admiralty to fulfil certain purposes, and on the

strength of the Admiralty statements Parliament has faithfully voted ...

about ten millions, and it is now discovered and officially acknowledged

that in respect of the purposes for which these ships were designed, the

whole of the money has been absolutely misapplied, utterly wasted and

thrown away.’ The foundation for this somewhat sweeping statement was

supplied by the explanatory memorandum to the Navy Estimates, 1887. ‘In

one important particular,’ so this document affirmed, ‘there is a

discrepancy between ... the original design and its result which, in the

case of the _Impérieuse_ and her sister ship the _Warspite_, attracted

some attention, and which is likely to recur in the case of the belted

cruisers, seven in number, the _Warspite_ and the armoured vessels of

the _Admiral_ class.... If the whole of the 900 tons [of coal] ... be

placed on board [the _Impérieuse_] the top of the belt will, on the

ship’s first going to sea, be six inches below the water.’

The Wolverhampton speech made a considerable stir. In spite of the

pressure of Irish affairs and the general instability of the political

situation, it was for some days the principal topic of public

discussion. The powerful interests assailed, retorted at once, and the

newspapers were filled with censure and contradiction. Even those which,

like the _Times_, were forced to acknowledge Lord Randolph Churchill

‘right in his main contention,’ rebuked him ponderously for extravagance

of statement and violence of language. His strictures on naval

construction brought Sir Nathaniel Barnaby, the late chief constructor

to the Admiralty--to whom Lord Randolph had personally alluded--into

voluminous protest in the columns of the _Times_, and an acrimonious

correspondence ensued. Sir Nathaniel denied that he had been ‘dismissed’

from his post and pointed in disproof to his having been made a Knight

Commander of the Bath. Lord Randolph replied acidly ‘that K.C.B.’s and

official testimonials were the usual manner in which the country

requited long service when the intentions had been honest, no matter how

deplorably defective might have been the capacity’; and expressed

himself willing to substitute the phrase ‘allowed to retire’ for the

word ‘dismissed.’ On the main question Sir Nathaniel appealed to Lord

George Hamilton; and Lord Randolph brought up Sir Edward Reed, a rival

constructor of great repute, who confirmed and even aggravated most of

his statements. Both parties fell back upon official records, memoranda

and Blue Books; and a battle royal developed, around the outskirts of

which naval authorities of every rank and description cruised, seeking

to intervene, on the one side or the other, with masses of highly

technical information couched in highly controversial terms.

Lord Randolph’s contention that the _Ajax_ and the _Agamemnon_ were

failures was not seriously disputed, Sir Nathaniel Barnaby himself

admitting (_Times_, June 7) that he was ‘thankful they were the only

approximately circular and shallow sea-going ships we built.’ The

fiercest strife raged around the cruiser _Impérieuse_. Sir Nathaniel

Barnaby met the assertion that the money spent upon her was ‘absolutely

misapplied, utterly wasted and thrown away,’ by quoting a later

Admiralty memorandum which declared her to be, ‘if not actually the most

powerful, one of the most powerful ironclad cruisers afloat of her

tonnage.’ But Sir Edward Reed was able to show that this was not

extravagant eulogy, for that there was only one other ‘ironclad cruiser

_of her tonnage_’ in existence. He also showed that, to lighten her,

she had already been deprived of her masts and consequently of her

intended sailing powers; and that even so, to bring her to her intended

draught, it was necessary to take out the whole of her coal. When the

smoke had at length a little lifted, it was generally held that,

although Lord Randolph Churchill’s charges were sustained on almost

every substantial point, he had injured his case by over-stating it.

Full marks were also awarded to the ‘distinguished ex-public servant

cruelly assailed in his professional character.’

Lord Randolph Churchill was duly elected Chairman of the Army and Navy

Committee. Mr. Jennings, who was also a member, laboured indefatigably

to collect, sift and arrange material. The Committee met without delay,

and collected much valuable and startling evidence. They discovered, for

instance, that one branch of the War Office cost 5,000_l._ a year in

supervising an expenditure of 250_l._ a year. ‘Would it have been

possible,’ the Accountant-General was asked, ‘for any private member to

have ascertained from the Estimates laid before Parliament from 1870 to

the present year that the total increase of net ordinary Army

expenditure amounted to almost nine millions of money?--A. ‘It would

have been extremely difficult.’ Q. ’ ...or that since 1875 there had

been an increase of about five millions?’--A. ‘I do not think it would.’

‘Up to now,’ Lord Randolph suggested, ‘Parliament has never had the

smallest idea of what was the total cost of the services?’--‘Taking the

whole of the services,’ replied Mr. Knox, ‘it has not.’ It would be easy

to multiply these specimens of the evidence collected by the Select

Committee. Day by day, as it was published, it was commented on by the

press, and public and Parliamentary scrutiny was increasingly directed

towards the Estimates of the two services.

Here is a note which it is pleasant to transcribe:--

One odd effect of your Committee: [wrote Jennings July 27].

Bradlaugh came to me this afternoon--said he had been reading the

evidence--was immensely struck with it--thought you had done

enormous service already. I told him a little more about it. He

said: ‘He has done so much good that I really think I must close up

my account against him.’ ‘Well, surely,’ I said, ‘there is no use

in keeping it open any longer. It only looks like vindictiveness.’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I think I will close the ledger.’

It will be convenient to follow Lord Randolph’s economy campaign to its

conclusion. As it gradually became directed to efficiency rather than

simple economy it enlisted an increasing measure of professional

support. By May 1888, public opinion had become so vigilant that,

following upon some outspoken and not very temperate statements by Lord

Wolseley, then Adjutant-General, the Government determined--momentous

resolve!--to appoint a Royal Commission with Lord Hartington at its

head. Mr. Smith invited Lord Randolph Churchill to join it:--

10 Downing Street, Whitehall: May 18, 1888.

My dear R. C.,--You will render great service to the administrative

reform of the two great departments if you will join the Royal

Commission over which Lord Hartington will preside.

Mr. Gladstone has asked Mr. Campbell-Bannerman to represent the

Opposition; I am to go on, on behalf of the Government; and you

would represent those who believe that efficiency and economy may

result from a change of system. General Brackenbury will join as a

soldier, and Sir F. Richards, who has just returned from sea, as

the sailor. Two civilians with extensive knowledge of large

business transactions are to be added, and Sir Richard Temple will

also be asked as a capable and successful Indian Administrator.

These are the people with whom you would be associated in the

effort to improve our system, and I hope most sincerely that you

will not refuse your help.

Believe me

Yours very truly,

W. H. SMITH.

I enclose a copy of the reference.

‘To inquire into the civil and professional administration of the

Naval and Military Departments and the relation of those

Departments to each other and to the Treasury; and to report what

changes in their existing system would tend to the efficiency and

the economy of the Public Service.’

Lord Randolph, however, knowing a good deal of the ways of such bodies,

declined. He was persuaded by Lord Hartington, who wrote:--

Hôtel du Rhin, 4 Place Vendôme: May 26, 1888.

My dear Churchill,--Smith has sent me your letter declining to

serve on the Army and Navy Commission. I hope very much that if you

have not absolutely made up your mind you may be induced to

reconsider your decision, as we are both very anxious to have your

assistance.

I think that your Committee has taken some very valuable evidence

which shows the inefficiency and defects of the present system. But

I should doubt whether you will effect much more by the examination

of minor officials or by investigating the details of the separate

votes; and I should think it might be possible for you to leave the

inquiry to be finished by some one else. My own opinion is that we

shall never get either efficiency or economy until we can find some

way of giving the professional men more power and at the same time

more responsibility; but how this can be done in combination with

our Parliamentary system is a very difficult problem which requires

bold and original treatment.

If we cannot suggest a more efficient and intelligent system of

superior administration, I think that we shall do very little good

by exposing details of maladministration in minor matters; and as

the subject-matter of our inquiry is to be the real centre of the

whole question of administrative reform, I cannot help thinking

that you would find our inquiry more interesting and important than

any which you can take up or continue on other branches of the same

question.

I remain

Yours sincerely,

HARTINGTON.

The Commission appointed on June 17, 1888, did not report till March,

1890. Lord Randolph’s separate memorandum, which will be found in the

Appendix, is well known. Its sweeping proposals were not adopted by the

majority of the Commissioners; but it has been so often quoted, and

bears so closely upon modern controversies, that the reader who is

interested in these subjects should not neglect to study it. The

indirect results of his agitation were, perhaps, more fruitful. Lord

George Hamilton, with whom he so often engaged in sharp argument when

Navy Estimates recurred, bears a generous tribute to the unseen

influence which severe public criticism exerts upon the workings of a

great department. It would seem that Lord Randolph Churchill’s belief

that considerable economies were possible on the establishments of 1886

was not without foundation.

Lord George Hamilton writes, October 4, 1904:--

During my tenure of office at the Admiralty great changes were

made, and in the foremost rank of these reforms was the

reorganisation and renovation of the Royal dockyards. These

establishments had been allowed to grow and develop without a

sufficient regard to the revolution in shipbuilding which the

substitution of iron and steel for wood had caused. Laxity in

supervision, connivance at practices neither economical nor

efficient, dawdling over work, obsolete machinery and ill-adjusted

establishments, associated with Estimates framed for political

exigence rather than naval needs, all combined to bring these great

national building yards into disrepute. The _personnel_ was

first-rate both in ability and integrity and the material used as

good as money could obtain. All that was required was a thorough

readjustment of the establishments to the work they were called

upon to do, by the reduction of the redundant and superfluous

workmen, by the dismissal of the incompetent, and an increase to

the numbers working in steel and iron. Changes such as these, if

associated with the introduction of the methods and checks in force

in the best private yards, were quite sufficient to put our

dockyards in the first rank of building establishments. But whoever

undertook the task would be subject to much obloquy, both local and

Parliamentary. The stern suppression of long-standing malpractices,

the dismissal of a large number of unnecessary and indifferent

workmen, if enforced on a large scale, required a strong current of

public opinion behind it for its consummation. This assistance I

obtained from Lord Randolph Churchill’s crusade on economy. He and

I differed on many questions of naval administration, but we were

at one as to the necessity of dockyard reform. Many economists who,

though agreeing in the abstract with Lord Randolph’s views,

hesitated to cut down the effective fighting forces of the Army and

Navy, were delighted to co-operate with him in so non-contentious

an improvement. The Labour party was not then as well organised or

represented in Parliament as they have since become, and their

opposition to dockyard dismissals was less strenuous than it would

be now.

I was thus enabled, after two years of continuous labour and

trouble, to organise the dockyards from top to bottom, to put down

establishments that were not required, to dismiss the loiterers,

and to establish, modelled on the practice of the best private

yards, a completely new system of supervision, check, and control.

The effect was electrical. The dockyards at once became the

cheapest and most economical builders of warships in the world. The

largest ironclad ever designed, up to 1889, was built, completed

and commissioned ready for sea in two years and eight months from

the date of the laying down of its keel. No large ironclad had been

previously completed within five years. Up to 1886 the average cost

of the big ships building in these yards was 40 per cent. above

their original estimate; since then the estimates have rarely been

exceeded. In the first year of the new system there was an

instantaneous saving of 400,000_l._ The continuous and satisfactory

progress of our vast and annually increasing building programme is

mainly due to those changes, and Lord Randolph could, I think,

fairly claim that, though his name was not publicly associated with

the great national gain thus achieved, it was the public opinion

which he aroused, which largely contributed to the consummation of

dockyard reform.

Lord Randolph Churchill addressed five meetings in the autumn and winter

of 1887--two at Whitby and Stockport respectively for his two friends,

Mr. Beckett and Mr. Jennings; and three in the North. The Whitby meeting

in September afforded an opportunity for a display of the hostility with

which he was regarded by the dominant section of the Conservative party,

for several prominent local worthies publicly refused to attend--a

proceeding which even the _Times_ was compelled to censure. The 7,000

persons who gathered upon the sands and around the slopes of a kind of

natural amphitheatre under the west cliff gave him a very different

welcome, and listened with delighted attention during that beautiful

afternoon to a spirited and ingenious defence of the miserable session

through which the Government had shuffled. In Yorkshire and Lancashire,

as in the earlier meetings of the year, and later in the North, his

popularity with the Conservative masses was still undimmed. He was

greeted everywhere by immense crowds. The largest halls were much too

small. Paddington was loyal and contented. His Birmingham supporters

asked no better than to fight for him at once. At Nottingham, long

before his arrival, the streets were thronged; and all the way from the

station to the Albert Hall he passed through continuous lines of

cheering people.[64] Similar scenes took place at Wolverhampton, and the

Conservative Association of that borough passed a formal resolution

supporting his policy of economy. In the North he made a regular

progress. He visited three important centres in a single week and made a

‘trilogy of speeches’--no light task for a speaker whose every word is

reported and examined. He spoke on the afternoon of October 20 at

Sunderland, at great length, in reply to a previous speech of Mr.

Gladstone, covering the whole field of domestic policy and defining the

immediate limits of the Tory Democratic programme. These proved

sufficiently comprehensive to include Free Education, Local Option in

the sale of drink, a compulsory Employer’s Liability Act, the abolition

of the power of entailing land upon unborn lives, ‘One man, one vote,’

and Parliamentary registration at the cost of local bodies. At

Newcastle, two days later, he spoke in defence of the Union, justified

the Government policy in Ireland, and vehemently attacked Mr. Gladstone

for the countenance which he showed towards lawlessness and disorder.

On the Monday he spoke at Stockton, and here he turned aside to deal

with another subject which had been thrust much upon him of late. Mr.

Jennings, like Lord Dunraven, was, as the reader is aware, a Fair

Trader, and throughout the year--from the very beginning of their

association--he had laboured tactfully, but persistently, to win Lord

Randolph to his views. He knew that although the cry of ‘Less waste and

no jobbery’ might appeal to many, ‘Economy’ was not in itself a popular

cause to submit to a Democratic electorate, and was, moreover, foreign

to the instincts and traditions of Toryism. ‘Fair Trade,’ on the

contrary, touched a very tender spot in a Conservative breast; and,

quite apart from this consideration, Mr. Jennings was an enthusiast. He

had examined the question both from an American and a British point of

view. He possessed a large and well-stored arsenal of fact and argument.

On such subjects as ‘One-sided Free Trade,’ ‘Our Ruined Industries,’

‘The Dumping of Sweated Goods,’ ‘The Commercial Union of the Empire’ or

‘Our Dwindling Exports’ he could write, as his frequent letters show,

with force and feeling. Scarcely since St. Anthony had there been such a

temptation on the one hand or such austerity on the other.

‘The main reason,’ Lord Randolph had said at Sunderland, ‘why I do not

join myself with the Protectionists is that I believe that low prices in

the necessaries of life and political stability in a democratic

Constitution are practically inseparable, and that high prices in the

necessaries of life and political instability in a democratic

Constitution are also practically inseparable.’ And this having drawn

upon him the wrath of Mr. Chaplin, he proceeded at Stockport to make his

case good. He used no economic arguments. He pointed to the supremacy of

the Conservative party as a proof of political stability under low

food-prices. He pointed to the conversion of Sir Robert Peel as a proof

of political instability, under high food-prices. To make wheat-farming

profitable a duty was required which would raise the price of corn from

28_s_. a quarter to something between 40_s_. and 45_s_. a quarter. Would

anyone propose a sufficient tax on imported corn to make it worth while

for the rural voter to pay the higher prices which Fair Trade would

secure for the manufactures of the urban voter? How did the Fair Traders

propose to deal with India? How did they propose to deal with Ireland?

Could they prove that France, Austria and Germany were more prosperous

than Great Britain? ‘It is no use saying to me, “Go to America or New

South Wales.” I will not go to America, and I will not go to New South

Wales. There is not the smallest analogy between those countries and

England. America is a self-contained country and almost everything she

requires for her people she can produce in abundance. We cannot. We have

more people than we can feed; and not only for food, but for our

manufactures, we depend upon raw material imported from abroad.

Therefore I decline to go to America or New South Wales; but I would go

to European countries--to France, Austria and Germany--and I want to

know whether the Fair Traders can prove that the people of those

countries are more prosperous than ours.’

This Stockton speech was naturally a great disappointment to Jennings.

‘I cannot deny,’ he wrote, ‘that you gave many of your followers a

bitter pill to swallow. I think I could give you satisfactory grounds

for admitting that your objections to “Fair Trade” will not stand much

investigation; but, of course, the real difficulty is that in many of

our constituencies the question is popular. We have been partly elected

on the strength of it; and when you attack it, you fire a broadside

into your own supporters and give the Radicals in our boroughs a stick

to beat us with. It is hard for us to fight against your authority,

especially when we have been drilling into the minds of the people that

yours are the views they should adopt. If you ever had half an hour to

spare, I wish you would allow me to put the facts before you. You would

soon see, for example,....’ And then follow pages of tersely stated

arguments of a kind with which most people are now only too familiar.

They produced no effect upon Lord Randolph. ‘The policy which you

advocate,’ he replied (October 30), ‘of duties on foreign imports for

revenue purposes, much attracted me at one time; but I came to the

conclusion that, although such a policy would gain the adhesion of the

manufacturing towns, it is open to such fearful attack from the Radicals

among the country population that we should lose more than we should

gain. I cannot see how you can persuade yourself that the country

population would accept a method of raising revenue which would directly

benefit the manufacturing population at their expense. The election of

‘85 made a great impression upon me. Then the defection of the rural

vote completely neutralised our great successes in the English

boroughs.’ And again on November 3, after the discussions at the

conference of Conservative Associations: ‘Do you see how the Fair

Traders have been wrangling and disputing with each other--everyone

going in a different direction--confirming all that I said at Stockton

about their not knowing their own minds?’ Late in November came an

invitation from the ‘British Union,’ a Protectionist Association having

its headquarters in Manchester--of all places--to which Lord Randolph

replied as follows:--

2 Connaught Place, W.: November 26, 1887.

I beg to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 25th inst. I

understand that your Committee are good enough to do me the honour

of asking me to preside at a meeting to be held on January 24 in

the Free Trade Hall, Manchester, in favour of Fair Trade.

You allude to the recent vote of the Conservative National Union

bearing upon this subject, and inquire as to what effect that vote

has had upon my mind. I may reply: ‘None whatever, except to

confirm me in the opinions I expressed at Stockton in the course of

last month.’ Both at the Fair Trade Conference recently held, as

well as at the conference of the delegates of the National Union, I

observed that the sentence which would best characterise those

discussions was _quot homines tot sententiæ_. There is not among

those who desire extensive fiscal reform the slightest approach to

real agreement either as to objects or to methods. I must also

point out that the delegates of the National Union do not appear to

have had any instructions from those whom they were supposed to

represent to debate and to decide on the question of Fair Trade,

neither did they in any way specially represent trade interests.

Their decision in favour of Fair Trade, therefore, is not more

weighty than their decision in favour of ‘Women’s Suffrage,’ which

latter would certainly not be accepted by the Tory party as a

whole.

Under these circumstances you will see that it is not possible for

me to depart in any way from the views I have recently expressed on

Fair Trade; nor could I, as you kindly invite me to do, ‘take the

helm of a movement’ which up to the present remains altogether

vague and undefined.

So far as I have been able to discover, this was, with one exception,

his last public word on the subject.[65] His objections to Fair Trade

were not based on principle. They were entirely practical. He cared

little for theory. He hated what he used to call ‘chopping logic.’ He

was not at all concerned to vindicate Mr. Cobden, and he mocked at

‘professors’ of all kinds. But he thought that as a financial expedient

a complicated tariff would not work, and he was sure that as a party

manœuvre it would not pay. He saw no way by which the conflicting

interests of the counties and the boroughs could be reconciled and he

believed that without such reconciliation the movement would prove

disastrous to the Conservative cause. He was, no doubt, strengthened in

his views by his desire so far as possible to work in harmony with Mr.

Chamberlain and so to combine and fuse together all the Democratic

forces which supported the Union. Yet Fair Trade had much to offer to a

Conservative statesman. To him, above all other Tory leaders, the

prospect was alluring. That section of Tory Democracy which had received

the gospel of Mr. Farrer Ecroyd--and it was already important--would

have followed a Fair Trade champion through thick and thin. In every

town he would have secured faithful and active supporters. His earlier

speeches had prepared the way. His own immediate allies in Parliament,

his best friends in the press, were ardent Fair Traders. Hardly a day

passed, as he said at Stockton, without his receiving letters from all

classes of people imploring him to come forward as a Fair Trader. He had

only to raise the standard to obtain a following of his own strong

enough to defy the party machine. The National Union might still afford

the necessary organisation. And had he been, as it was the fashion to

say, willing to advance his personal position regardless of the

interests of the Conservative party, there lay ready to his hand a

weapon with which he might have torn the heart out of Lord Salisbury’s

Government.

CHAPTER XIX

THE NATIONAL PARTY

‘Love as if you should hereafter hate; and hate as if you should

hereafter love.’--BIAS (quoted by Aristotle).

‘All the politics of the moment,’ said Lord Salisbury on March 5, 1887,

to the members of the National Conservative Club, ‘are summarised in the

word “Ireland.”’ The fierce struggle in the English constituencies was

over. The Home Rulers had been totally defeated. Mr. Gladstone had been

driven from office. A Conservative Government, strong in its own

resources of discipline and class, strengthened by most of the forces of

wealth and authority which had hitherto been at the service of the

Liberal party, and supported by the energetic multitudes of Tory

Democracy, sat in the place of power. Among the ranks of the Opposition,

fortified in their midst, with leaders of their own upon their Front

Bench, was a solid band of seventy gentlemen of unusual ability actively

engaged in preventing the return of their neighbours to office. Such was

the grim aspect of the field upon the morrow of the great battle. Such

was the change of fortune which a year of Irish policy had brought to

the Liberal party. But, although the relative forces of the combatants

in the political arena had been so surprisingly altered, the question in

dispute remained utterly unsettled and ‘Ireland’ was still the vital and

dominant factor in the political situation.

So long as the Liberal Unionists adhered to Lord Salisbury’s Government

it was, of course, unshakable; for it enjoyed the double advantage of

their support and of the cleavage which they caused in the Opposition.

But the conditions under which Liberal-Unionist support would be

continued could not be definitely known; and its withdrawal meant the

immediate fall of the Administration. Forced thus to live from day to

day upon the goodwill of its allies, with few means of knowing and not

always a right to inquire when that goodwill might be impaired, the

Government was apparently deficient in real stability or power. Nor

could it be said to make up in talent what it lacked in strength. The

retirement of Sir Michael Hicks-Beach deprived the Treasury Bench of its

sole remaining Conservative Parliamentarian; Mr. Goschen’s position was,

at any rate for the first year, difficult and peculiar; Mr. Balfour had

yet his name to make; and the choice of Mr. Smith for the leadership of

the House of Commons, however justified by his courage and his

character, so far as the distinction of debate was concerned, only

revealed the nakedness of the land.

In all these circumstances it was with no little anxiety that the

Conservative party watched the progress of the negotiations which

attended the Round Table Conference and endeavoured to estimate the

effect upon those negotiations and upon the general attitude of the

Liberal-Unionist party of the growing tension of Irish affairs. Mr.

Chamberlain’s intentions were especially uncertain. His effective

co-operation with the Conservatives had been largely facilitated by his

good relations with Lord Randolph Churchill and the very considerable

agreement in political matters which existed between them. But Lord

Randolph Churchill had now left the Government; and how could a Radical

support a policy from which a progressive Tory had been forced to

separate? Moreover, Mr. Chamberlain was closely associated with Sir

George Trevelyan. They had resigned together from the Home Rule Cabinet.

They fought side by side in the election which followed. They were the

joint representatives of Liberal Unionism at the Round Table Conference.

On January 22, 1886, while the issue of that conference was still

undetermined, Mr. Chamberlain was the chief speaker at a demonstration

at Hawick in Sir George Trevelyan’s honour; and Sir George Trevelyan was

all the time known to be earnestly and eagerly labouring for the reunion

of the Liberal party. ‘It is because I believe,’ said Mr. Chamberlain on

this occasion, ‘that at all events a great approximation to peace, if

not a complete agreement, may be attained without a betrayal of the

trust which has been reposed in us that I ask you to await with hope and

confidence the result of our further deliberations.’ Lord Hartington

took, indeed, no part in these negotiations. ‘Some one,’ he said,

characteristically, ‘must stay at home to look after the camp;’ but he

proceeded to wish the Conference ‘every measure of success,’ and he was

careful not to destroy by any words of his the prospects of

reconciliation.

The whole situation--already delicate, uncertain and seemingly

critical--could not fail to be profoundly influenced by the course of

events in Ireland. The winter of 1886 was accompanied by a widespread,

though by no means general, refusal or inability to pay rents. Sir

Michael Hicks-Beach had never been too enthusiastic in his sympathy with

the Irish landowner, and during the winter he had endeavoured to

mitigate the severities of the time by the exercise of a kind of

‘dispensing power.’ Landlords were given to understand that the whole

machinery of the Executive would not necessarily be at their disposal

for the purpose of enforcing against their tenants claims which, in the

opinion of the Chief Secretary, were harsh or unjust. This

rough-and-ready method was heartily supported by Sir Redvers Buller, and

to its adoption the comparative crimelessness of the winter was largely

due. But, however satisfactory its results in practice might be, it was

easily and justly assailable in principle; and after the Lord Chief

Baron Palles had authoritatively declared that the attempt to withdraw

the police from supporting the legal claims of private persons was

altogether unjustifiable, the ‘dispensing power’ had to be abandoned,

and the law took its regular course. The consequence of the numerous

and, in some cases, ruthless evictions which followed was a formidable

agrarian conspiracy. The tenants on different estates joined themselves

together to offer to the landlord whatever rent they considered just,

and where it was refused as insufficient they deposited the whole sum

with a managing committee to be used for the purposes of resistance.

This movement, known to history as the ‘Plan of Campaign,’ was the

immediate result. The secondary, though not less direct, result was the

advent in the House of Commons of a Land Bill and a Coercion Bill, both

of which must expose to uncalculated strains the composite forces on

which the Government depended.

But now and in the years that were to come the far-seeing statecraft

with which the Conservative leaders had stimulated and sustained the

schism in the Liberal party and had dealt with the crisis of the General

Election was to be vindicated. They had built far stronger than they

knew. Underneath the smooth words of the Liberal-Unionist leaders

towards their former friends, and behind all the generous emotions of

the Round Table Conference, stubborn brute forces were at work which,

though they did not necessarily conduce to the stability of the

Conservative Government, were inevitably fatal to Liberal reunion. The

Liberal-Unionist members who had come back safely to Westminster, having

broken with their party organisations and defied the Grand Old Man, were

very particular to call themselves Liberals and to deny that they had

severed themselves in any degree from the principles and traditions of

Liberalism. They banned Tory colours and Tory clubs. When they attended

public meetings they took care that the complexion of the platform

should be Liberal Unionist. Even Mr. Goschen, after taking office in a

Conservative Government, thought it necessary to assert in his election

address his unaltered and unalterable character as a Liberal, and to

apologise to the Conservative electors for the strain put upon their

natural partisanship by his candidature. And there is no doubt that they

were perfectly honest in their belief. They were not conscious of any

abandonment of principle. They declared that they agreed with the

Liberal party on every other question except the Irish Question, and

even in regard to Ireland there was agreement on three points out of

four. The Conservatives had exacted no pledges from them. They did not

feel themselves divorced from one body of doctrine and engaged to

another. They remained in political opinion on all the great contested

questions of the day exactly where they had been when Parliament met in

January 1885, and they sat in the same places and among the same party.

But, in fact, one change had taken place in their character of more

practical importance than all the symbols and nomenclature of party, and

counting more in political warfare than any change of principles,

however sudden or sweeping: they had changed sides. Abstract principles

and party labels might be the same, but whereas in January 1886 they

wished and worked for a Liberal victory and a Conservative defeat, in

January 1887 they wanted to see the Conservatives win and the Liberals

beaten. Otherwise no change! No disagreement, outside Ireland, with the

Liberal party--except that they sought its overthrow; no difference

except the one difference which swallows up all others--the difference

between alliance and war. And this difference, be it noted, was not

founded on any passing mood of anger or caprice which smooth words and

fair offers might dispel. It was fundamental and innate. It was the

basis of the election of these seventy members. They had stood as

opponents of Mr. Gladstone and all the forces he directed. They were

elected for the very purpose of preventing his return to power by

electors nine-tenths of whom at least were Conservatives. While they

opposed Mr. Gladstone, they responded to the constituent bodies by whom

they were returned. If they made friends with him--no matter upon what

terms--they ceased to represent nine-tenths at least of their

electorates.

Moreover, few men go through the experience of an internecine quarrel,

with its taunts and charges of treachery and ingratitude exchanged

between old comrades who know each other well, and with all the

wrenching and tearing asunder of friendships and associations, without

contracting a deep and abiding antagonism for those from whom they have

broken. Sir George Trevelyan--unembarrassed by a constituency--indeed

went back; but he went back alone. The rest remained to justify, by

their consistent action, the wisdom of Conservative tactics; to prove,

as the years went by, the most trustworthy supporters of the

Conservative party, and in the end to secure the main control of its

policy. From that strange pilgrimage--‘that bitter pilgrimage,’ as Mr.

Chamberlain calls it (was it so very bitter, after all?), there could be

no turning back after the first decisive steps were taken.

All this was, however, either unknown or imperfectly appreciated in

1887; and even if the Liberal-Unionists’ mind had been thoroughly

understood, the uncertainty of the political situation would not have

been by any means concluded. For, although there never was any real

chance of Liberal reunion, there were repeated possibilities of a

Conservative collapse. The Liberal Unionists were resolved to do nothing

that would bring Mr. Gladstone back to power. Apart from imperilling the

cause of the Union, that process would probably involve the political

extinction of most of their party. But, subject to that dominant

proviso, they could not feel any particular affection for Lord

Salisbury’s Government. They disliked much of its action, they did not

agree with its general views, and they could not be impressed by the

Parliamentary exposition with which they were favoured. Their leaders

were not desirous of office for its own sake; but they were gravely

disquieted by the policy adopted towards Ireland, and more than once

drawn to the conclusion that a wide reconstruction of the Cabinet would

be necessary to maintain the reputation of the Unionist party in

Parliament and the country. In view of their evident power to change

the Government at any moment by a vote, the passage of the Irish Bills

through the House of Commons was attended with extreme danger to the

Ministry. On more than one occasion its life depended upon a single

hand, and once it was decided that that hand should be withdrawn.

About Ireland and all that concerned her Lord Randolph cared intensely.

He felt responsible in no small degree for the denial of Home Rule. As

to that he had no doubts; but he had always intended, and had been

allowed, with the full sanction of the Cabinet, to declare that the

counterpart of the assertion of the Union was a generous, sympathetic,

and liberal policy towards the Irish people in regard to religion,

self-government, and land. Intimately acquainted as he was with many

shades of Irish opinion, he was both grieved and angered at the temper

displayed by the conquerors in the years that followed their victory. To

Coercion, indeed, so far as it should be necessary to maintain the law,

he had made up his mind before he left the Cabinet, and he had no

thoughts of going back on that; but the Bill and its enforcement stirred

all the latent Liberalism in his character. He discovered, as time went

on, that special legislation was not regarded by the Government as a

hateful necessity; but as something good in itself, producing a salutary

effect upon the Irish people and raising the temper of the Ministerial

party. He was offended by the calm assumption of social and racial

superiority displayed, as a matter of course, by Ministers towards

their Irish opponents, and the studied disregard of Nationalist

sentiments and feelings which, even when no public object was to be

gained, marked these dark years of Unionist policy; and with all his

determination never in any degree weakened to maintain the Union, it was

in the conduct of Irish affairs from 1887 to 1890 that he realised most

acutely his differences with the Government, and out of which his open

quarrel with the Conservative party ultimately sprang.

The retirement of Sir Michael Hicks-Beach from the Irish office on

account of his eyesight was the first blow.

‘I waited till I got home,’ Lord Randolph wrote on March 30, ‘before

writing to you, as I did not know where a letter might find you: but I

feel sure no letter from me was needed for you to be convinced how

profoundly grieved I was at your having to give up official work, and at

the cause. I knew you had trouble before you, but was in great hopes

that it might have been for long delayed. I saw Roose yesterday, and it

was very pleasant to hear him assert with confidence that you would be

as strong and well as ever before the close of the year. Indeed, you are

a great loss to Ireland and to the party and to me. Now that you are

gone, there is no one in the Government I care a rap about.... I should

so much like to see you and have a long talk. I have as yet seen none of

my late colleagues, nor do I want to. Don’t trouble to answer this; but

believe that there is no one who more truly and earnestly wishes for

your renewed health and strength.’

The Land Bill opened various difficulties. Many of the Liberal Unionists

thought it inadequate, and both Mr. Chamberlain and Lord Randolph had

decided opinions of their own upon several of its most important

clauses. All through the summer of 1887 these two disinherited chiefs of

democracy drew closely together. They were both, as Mr. Chamberlain

describes it, ‘adrift from the regular party organisations.’ Yet each

possessed great influence in Parliament and the country. It was natural

that the idea of some Central party should present itself to their minds

in a favourable light. And, indeed, the increasing weakness of the

Government in the House of Commons and the apparently uncertain

character of its majority made such speculations very reasonable. On at

least two occasions a defeat in Committee on the Land Bill appeared

certain; and in that emergency only a coalition headed by Lord

Hartington and strengthened by both Mr. Chamberlain and Lord Randolph

Churchill could have prevented the return of the Home Rulers to power,

with a disastrous election to follow. In many letters and in several

speeches the idea of a ‘National party’ recurs. In July the situation

appeared so critical and the prospects of a collapse so imminent that

Lord Hartington himself seems to have regarded the reconstruction of the

Government as inevitable. In that event it was known that the two

democratic leaders stood together and that neither would enter any

Cabinet without the other.

The crisis passed, and with it the agreement. With the best will in the

world Mr. Chamberlain and Lord Randolph Churchill found it very

difficult to work in close accord. Their opinions were nearly alike, but

their political positions were different. They had similar aims, but

divergent antagonisms. The disputes within a party are always fiercer

than those between regular political opponents and their rage burns long

in the breast. Mr. Chamberlain had resigned from Mr. Gladstone’s

Cabinet, and his attitude tended to become mainly one of opposition to

him. All other political leaders, of whatever complexion, stood more or

less in shadow. Lord Randolph, on the other hand, had resigned from Lord

Salisbury’s Cabinet and the differences which most concerned him were

those which separated him from the ‘old gang.’ Hence that strenuous

alliance which was the necessary foundation of the National party was,

from the very outset, subjected to perilous strains. Further

difficulties arose from the topography of the House of Commons. The two

friends sat on opposite sides of the House. No intercourse in the

Chamber was possible without exciting notice and perhaps remark. On the

other hand, the shifting course of the debates made constant consultings

indispensable to harmonious action. Without them misunderstandings and

disagreements were bound to arise. Both men formed strong and immediate

opinions on every small point that arose. Both spoke with dangerous

facility. Both had sharp tongues and some readiness to use them when

provoked. During the long-drawn session of 1887 several petty

disagreements, taking the form of public expression, arose.

One of these incidents occurred during the consideration of the

bankruptcy clauses of the Irish Land Bill, August 1, 1887. The subject

was technical, and the issue mixed. Lord Randolph Churchill had made a

short argumentative speech upon an amendment which had been moved from

the Liberal-Unionist benches. Mr. Chamberlain followed, and took a

totally different line. ‘The noble lord,’ he said, ‘has not told the

Committee how he intends to vote on this amendment.’ Lord Randolph said

he would vote with the Government. ‘I confess,’ said Mr. Chamberlain, ‘I

did not come to that conclusion from his speech. I thought the noble

lord intended to support the amendment, and upon that I was going to

point out to him that the greater part of his speech was against it.’ He

then proceeded to indicate considerable differences with Lord Randolph

on the merits of the question. The House was in Committee, and both men

could therefore speak again. Lord Randolph referred to Mr. Chamberlain’s

opening remarks as ‘a characteristic sneer.’ ‘The right honourable

gentleman evidently does not understand the process of differing from

one’s party and yet supporting it. On this question of the Irish land I

hold certain opinions which I have ventured--I hope, with moderation--to

press very rarely--I think, only three times--on Her Majesty’s

Government. And then, if the Government have not altogether agreed with

these opinions, I do not think it necessary to assume that the

Government are entirely wrong or that I am infallibly right. Well, on

the whole, I adhere to my view of the case. I see nothing inconsistent

in supporting them after the remarks I have made--not in a dictatorial,

but in a pleading manner.’ Mr. Chamberlain’s retort was prompt and

sharp. He denied that he had intended a sneer of any kind. He was

sincerely in doubt as to how Lord Randolph would have voted. ‘I am

rather glad,’ he said, ‘that this incident has occurred, inasmuch as it

has enabled the noble lord to pay me a compliment; and I can assure him

that, coming from him, I very much value it. The noble lord said that I,

at any rate, am not one of those who differ from their party and yet

support it; neither am I one who speaks one way and votes another.’

There the matter dropped so far as the House of Commons was concerned.

Mr. Chamberlain wrote the next day to put matters right. ‘I hope,’ he

said, ‘that in this case it is _ira amantium redintegratio amoris_.’

Lord Randolph was not, however, easily placated. ‘I freely confess,’ he

replied, ‘that I had viewed your action last night with the greatest

possible surprise and some vexation, which I thought proper to express.

When on Clause IV. you took similar action, hostile to my views, I

refrained from any public comment. I am quite at a loss to understand

why you have thought it necessary on two occasions within a week to

express in a most marked manner your entire disagreement with me; but I

am sure you have excellent reasons for all you do.’

This ill-humour lasted only a few days. Within the week the two men were

dining and consulting with each other on personal terms as friendly as

before. Yet some scars seem to have smarted, for there are signs in Lord

Randolph’s correspondence that from this date he began to draw more

closely in matters political towards Lord Hartington, and less freely to

confide in his former ally. One morning soon after this Lord Randolph

and Mr. Chamberlain went for a walk together in Hyde Park. They

discussed the whole position in the frankest way and decided by mutual

consent to work independently and to pursue the objects they sought in

common by separate paths. Thus ended that intimate political

understanding which had united these fiery spirits during the period of

storm in a comradeship which had not been without its effects upon

public affairs. They parted, with many expressions of goodwill, to

follow after a time different roads and to face in the end contrasted

fortunes. Their alliance had been brief. Even in the few years with

which this account is concerned, they will be seen in sharp antagonism.

Yet both were accustomed to preserve, amid the inexhaustible

vicissitudes of politics, pleasant memories of those exciting and

eventful days.

With this separation the prospects of a National party fade again into

that dreamland whence so many have wished to recall them. Few, indeed,

are the politicians who have not cherished these visions at times when

ordinary party machinery is not at their disposal. To build from the

rock a great new party--free alike from vested interests and from holy

formulas, able to deal with national problems on their merits, patient

to respect the precious bequests of the past, strong to drive forward

the wheels of progress--is without doubt a worthy ideal. Alas, that the

degeneracy of man should exclude it for ever from this wicked world!

Late in August Ministers determined to put their powers under the Crimes

Act into force. All the independent men who kept them in office, seem to

have been pained and dismayed by this decision. They feared its effects

upon the majority, and doubted its necessity in Ireland.

‘I am desperately puzzled,’ wrote Lord Randolph to Lord Hartington

(August 20), ‘to know what line to take about this last action of the

Government. I disapprove of it profoundly, but distrust my own

opinion--all the more that I do not know what special information

Ministers have to support their action. There is unquestionably a smack

of vindictiveness about the proclamation, _prima facie_, which the

country will be quick to feel. This, coupled with their singular

treatment of the Land Act, cannot produce a good effect. I am anxious to

know whether, before their final decision, they secured your

concurrence, as in that case I should keep my opinions to myself and

give a silent vote in their support.

‘I have a letter from Chamberlain showing considerable irritation and

impatience at your last communication to him, and great alarm for the

future and his future; but he says he has decided to postpone any action

tending to emphasise any difference of opinion between yourself and him.

This, however, was written apparently before he was aware of the

proclamation of the League and I do not know what effect that may

produce on him.’

Lord Hartington’s measured reply makes plain the debt which the

Conservative Government owed to this grave, calm, slow-moving man:--

_Private._

Bolton Abbey, Skipton: August 21, 1887.

My dear Churchill,--The Government did not obtain or ask for my

concurrence before deciding on the proclamation of the League. They

have throughout on this question seemed disposed to take their own

course and have not consulted me, as they have done on other

subjects. The first I heard of it was from A. Balfour, who told me

some weeks ago that they would probably proclaim before the end of

the Session.

I have had several conversations with Smith, Goschen, and Balfour,

in which I have expressed my serious doubts as to the policy of the

measure, although I could not tell what information they might have

from Ireland. They seem to have felt, and I cannot complain of it,

that this was a measure rather of Executive responsibility than of

policy, and to have rather carefully abstained from asking me to

share their responsibility with them. I also have felt that, not

being able to share it with them, I could not press them very

strongly on a matter in which they had knowledge which I did not

possess.

I sent Balfour a very strong letter of remonstrance from

Chamberlain, telling him at the same time from myself that the

proclamation appeared to be open to every sort of Parliamentary

and political objection, but that I could not tell what information

they might have as to its necessity.