CHAPTER XVII THE TURN OF THE TIDE

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‘The rising unto place is laborious; ... the standing is slippery, and the regress is either a downfall or at least an eclipse which is a melancholy thing.’—Bacon.

Lord Randolph Churchill had divested himself by a single short letter of all that authority which is centred in a political chief and a Minister of the Crown. The solid array of Conservative members who had stoutly sustained him, ‘proud to follow a leader who was proud to lead them on’; the wise and busy secretaries of a great department with their hives of fact and counsel; hundreds of sharp pens, thousands of friendly voices; the vast, pervading, persisting machinery of party, all hitherto obedient in his service, now in a moment fell away. He was only the representative of a Metropolitan constituency who possessed some skill in speaking and a small house overlooking Hyde Park. He had cast away all advantages. He had neglected every preparation. He had chosen bad ground and the worst time. Moreover, as shall be seen, he had bound himself hand and foot. Yet such was the personal importance this man had acquired, so highly were his services valued, so much was his hostility feared, that for a time the British Government tottered and his place remained unfilled.

Mr. Chamberlain to Lord Randolph Churchill.

Highbury, Moor Green, Birmingham: December 23, 1886.

My dear Churchill,—Whew! The cat is among the pigeons with a vengeance.

My sympathies are entirely with you, and I think you may rely on my cordial co-operation, if it can be of any value.

I have to speak to-night, and must express my first thoughts on what is an entirely changed situation.

I wish I was able to communicate with you beforehand, but if you have any wishes or ideas as to immediate action let me know. If necessary we will arrange a meeting, and I will run up to London again.

The Government is doomed, and I suspect we may have to re-form parties on a new basis. You and I are equally adrift from the old organisations.

Yours ever,
J. Chamberlain.

Mr. Chamberlain to Lord Randolph Churchill.

Highbury, Moor Green, Birmingham: December 26, 1886.

My dear Churchill,—Yours of 24th with its very interesting enclosures only reached me to-day.

The breach was inevitable. There is much to be said pro and con about the estimates, but you were altogether in a false position. You had to fight—alone and single-handed—for every point, and were necessarily condemned to gain on each a partial victory, which left you with all the responsibility, but without a consistent and thoroughly defensible policy.

You will have a hard time to go through. Your case will be mine almost exactly, and I can tell you it is a bitter pilgrimage which is in prospect. The party tie is the strongest sentiment in this country—stronger than patriotism or even self-interest. But it will all come right in the end for both of us.

I assume that you will maintain an independent position, and in that case you will be a power that your party cannot ignore. The Standard has a right to be angry, and the Caucuses will denounce you; but in their hearts they know you are indispensable, and when they find they cannot bully you into submission they will come to your terms. Next time, however, that either you or I join a Cabinet we must be certain of our majority in it.

My speech has fluttered the dovecotes tremendously, and my correspondence shows that many of the Gladstonians are very uncomfortable and anxious to come to terms. But I do not believe that there will be any practical result. Mr. Gladstone does not give way on the main point—neither will I.

Whenever I come to London I will let you know, and we will have another talk. Meanwhile you have made the situation intensely interesting.

With all good wishes,
Yours sincerely,
J. Chamberlain.

Mr. Labouchere to Lord Randolph Churchill.

Private.

10 Queen Anne’s Gate: December 23.

Dear Churchill,—In your own interests think it over. This would have been all very well if you had not been Leader of the House, or if you had been Leader for some years. In the former case, you might have upset your friends and been Leader; in the latter case you would have become a fetish.

Parties just now do not hang together by principles. They are gangs greedy of office. You got your lot in—there is a wide difference between this and aiding in getting them out.

You and Chamberlain seem to me both to make the same mistake. You ignore the power of the ‘machine.’ It has crushed many an able man—Horsman, Lowe, Goschen, and Salisbury himself.

Whether Hartington joins or not, he will not be sorry that you have resigned, and he will be all the more inclined to help the Government. They only want thirty Unionists to have a good working majority. The tendency of the Government will be to yield a little more to him in order to revenge itself on you.

Joe is of no good to you. You have no idea of the feeling of the Radicals against him. There is a good deal of sentiment in these things; and just as Gladstone is their Christ, Joe is their Anti-Christ. They will laugh to scorn his ‘Grand Councils.’ They are, indeed, absurd. There are only two policies for Ireland—Coercion, or a domestic legislature, &c. All else is intrigue. You are not a Radical; on that line Joe will always cut you out.

I don’t think that the occasion you have selected is a good one. There is a strong public opinion, even amongst Liberals, for an expenditure on armaments. It is true that Salisbury may wish to obtain the money in order eventually to join in some absurd European war, but this cannot be proved, and the basis of politics is ‘hand to mouth.’

I should have thought that your game was rather a waiting one. Sacrifice everything to becoming a fetish; then and only then, you can do as you like. Hartington must go to the Lords. There is no such thing in politics as burning boats, until there have been explanations in the House of Commons. A Conservative Government must spend, and generally a Liberal Government suffers from not spending.

I write this—not, as you will perceive, in the interests of my party, but in your individual interests. Surely when it is a question of figures, and the figures are not known, there are the elements of an arrangement.

Yours truly,
H. Labouchere.

Lord Randolph Churchill’s resignation had been received with universal surprise; but astonishment was swiftly succeeded by anger. His enemies—and they multiplied rapidly—raised an exultant chorus of ‘I told you so!’ His friends everywhere found themselves without an answer. The Unionist Press was unanimous in its censures, and the London clubs were loud in their abuse. The cohorts of tale-bearers and gossips on the flanks of a Government were eager to impute the worst and meanest motives, and his action, already difficult to vindicate, was variously attributed to temper, to treachery, and to both. The whole strength of the party organisation was exerted against him. The public was informed through a thousand channels that he had aimed a deadly blow at the Union upon an impulse of personal ambition or of personal spite. His rupture with Lord Salisbury was utter and complete. The Queen was grievously offended by his premature disclosure to the Times; and in the mood that was abroad he found, like Macaulay before him, that to write on Windsor Castle paper may sometimes be accounted as a crime. Yet, although he was thus the object of so much reproach, he was of course unable to defend himself. He requested permission to publish his letters of resignation.

‘I cannot agree,’ replied Lord Salisbury by telegraph. ‘It would be entirely at variance with the accepted practice, according to which such explanations should be reserved for Parliament. You clearly cannot do it without the Queen’s leave.

‘Obviously,’ rejoined Lord Randolph, ‘the letters have been shown to the Standard.’

‘No,’ was the answer. ‘Your supposition is incorrect; the letters referred to have not been seen by anyone.’

The Prime Minister was plainly within his rights in his refusal; yet while Lord Randolph Churchill was prevented by constitutional observance from publicly anticipating the explanation to be made in Parliament, and so from making any effective reply to his traducers, that explanation was being discounted in a dozen informal versions, disparaging sometimes by lavish falsehood, sometimes by ungenerous truth.

After accepting the resignation of the Chancellor of the Exchequer Lord Salisbury turned at once to Lord Hartington. He had hitherto, as we have seen, resisted the introduction of the Whigs into the Ministry; but the situation was now critical, if not indeed desperate, and he accepted the necessity. He therefore telegraphed to Lord Hartington, who was in Rome, and invited his co-operation, offering either to make such Cabinet arrangements as might suit him and his friends, or to serve under him if he would himself undertake to form a Government. Above all, he pressed for his immediate return to England. Lord Hartington responded to these appeals without alacrity. He tarried in Rome till the night of Sunday the 26th. Thence he proceeded to Monte Carlo ‘to pick up his letters.’ On the 28th he resumed his journey. It was not until the evening of the 29th that he arrived in London. His deliberation was justified by events.

The Prime Minister, having collected his Cabinet together from all parts of the country, met them on Tuesday, December 28, with a statement of his views upon the situation. ‘Master of tactics,’ as Lord Randolph called him, he rigidly confined the dispute to the single special question of the Estimates. The Ministers responsible for the defence of the Empire demanded a certain sum. The Minister responsible for the finances had refused that sum. The head of the Government, having to choose between them, was bound as a patriot to stand by the Empire. In the face of a vast Imperial issue and of the grave crisis in European affairs, the ordinary disputations of party politics—and, indeed, all personal predilections—must stand aside. The coaling stations, on which the British fleet depended for its world-wide mobility, were at stake. To defend them or not to defend them—that was the question: and who would hesitate in his answer, especially when the sum involved was remarkably small? Such, at least, was the version semi-officially communicated to the public and faithfully reproduced in every form of artistic variation by the party press, from the Times newspaper to the remotest ramifications of the provincial and local journals.

Lord Salisbury also informed his colleagues that he was in communication with Lord Hartington, and he laid before them the nature of the offers he had made. The proceedings of the Cabinet were reported to be so harmonious that the Times and many other Ministerial journals came to the conclusion that a Coalition with the Whigs was certain, and devoted many columns of print to preparing the minds of their readers for so excellent an arrangement. It was not until the next day that it dawned upon the journalistic world that numerous and influential members of the Government were very much averse on public grounds—the Empire, and, no doubt, the European crisis—from that ‘wide reconstruction’ which a Coalition or a Hartington Administration incidentally, but necessarily, involved. This reluctance was shared, not without reason, by the Conservative party generally, and voiced by the large number of members of Parliament whom the crisis had drawn to the Carlton Club. The Conservative party, although wanting thirty-five of an absolute majority in the House of Commons, were nevertheless by far the strongest and most compact party in the country; and they were by no means ready to acquiesce in their leader’s disinterested willingness to surrender the chief place in the Administration and to work on equal terms with a party which only numbered seventy. By the time that Lord Hartington’s train reached Charing Cross, on the night of the 29th, a Coalition Government had become excessively unpopular, and the Times was forced to admit, with a blush for the frailty of political mankind, ‘that Lord Salisbury’s foresight and patriotism were a good deal above the level of the rank and file.’ Lord Randolph Churchill had counted upon Tory Democracy. It was not Tory Democracy that stopped the Coalition; but Tadpole and Taper.

1887
Æt. 37

By December 31 all prospect of a Coalition Ministry had been definitely abandoned. Lord Hartington’s prudent and dignified delay had alone prevented him from being placed in a false position. During the whole of the 30th he consulted his friends and considered the reports which reached him of the temper of the Conservative party. He had no difficulty in coming to a decision. Even if the opinion of the Tory party had been as favourable as it was unfavourable, it was certain that the Liberal Unionists were not ripe for a Coalition, and that any attempt to force them forward would lead to their disruption, and certainly end in a separation from Mr. Chamberlain and his followers. There was another obstacle—small, but not insignificant. Lord Hartington’s position at Rossendale was not so secure as to make his re-election certain. A Coalition was, in fact, so difficult and undesirable that it could only be attempted in the last resort. And until Lord Salisbury’s Government had been defeated in the House of Commons no one could say that all alternatives had been exhausted. Lord Hartington therefore declined, on January 1, the various propositions which Lord Salisbury had made to him.

Three courses were now, according to the Times, open to the Prime Minister: ‘To endeavour to induce Mr. Goschen to take the post of Chancellor of the Exchequer; to come to an understanding with Lord Randolph Churchill; or to reconstruct the Ministry from the Conservative ranks.’ All three were strenuously debated throughout the country. The idea of a reconciliation on some compromise between Lord Randolph Churchill and Lord Salisbury obtained powerful support. Rumour was tireless in formulating the terms on which peace might be made—was to be made. The Morning Post, always an ardent and faithful friend to Lord Randolph Churchill, never ceased to urge reunion with all the weight of its unimpeachable Toryism. Every movement of the Prime Minister and his late colleague was watched with cat-like attention. No one could call at Arlington Street or Connaught Place without the closest scrutiny; and when it became known that Lord Abergavenny, Lord Rowton and Sir Henry Wolff had visited both houses, the gossips and quidnuncs of the clubs thought the dispute as good as settled.

It was pointed out at this time that the circumstances of Lord Randolph Churchill’s resignation bore a very curious resemblance to those in which Lord Palmerston had resigned the Home Secretaryship in 1853. Lord Palmerston had resigned on December 15, ostensibly on certain details of the Reform Bill. It was asserted that he differed from the Cabinet upon its policy in Eastern Europe; and this was strenuously denied by the adherents of the Ministry. Lord Palmerston’s resignation was made public before he had heard that it had been accepted by the Queen. Inspired articles attacking Lord Palmerston appeared in the Times. Lord Derby, writing to Lord Malmesbury, observed that Lord Palmerston is ‘much, and justly, annoyed’ at this. ‘As his lips are sealed, Aberdeen has no business to speak through the newspapers.’ To cap all this, there were on both occasions heavy falls of snow, which made communications difficult and slow. After some days of suspense Lord Palmerston was prevailed upon to withdraw his resignation and to resume office. Would the parallel be completed?

Lord Randolph Churchill had so little expected to fail in his conflict with the Cabinet that he had not clearly thought out how he would stand in that event. Lord Salisbury’s acceptance of his resignation, without interview, remonstrance, or offer of compromise, had surprised him; but he faced the situation calmly. Not to be behindhand in determination, he had clinched matters by himself publishing the news. He realised at once how serious were the consequences and how narrowed and difficult his position had become. He found himself, alone and unprepared, on ground most unfavourable; yet he did not seek to avoid the issue. He made no suggestions of reconciliation. Even after the failure of the Hartington coalition he would lend himself to no overtures. He forbade his friends to concern themselves in the affair. He rebuked Wolff with unnecessary violence for an unauthorised attempt, not ill-received by Lord Salisbury, to make peace: ‘Do you think you can manage me like one of your Cairene Pashas?’ During the whole fortnight that the Cabinet was in flux he abstained from the slightest action, covert or overt, which could aggravate the crisis.

To remodel the Government and to allow the excitement to cool down, Ministers prorogued Parliament from January 13—the date which Lord Randolph had fixed—till January 27, and the time when an explanation could be offered was further delayed. But in face of harsher misrepresentation and abuse than has been directed against any politician since, Lord Randolph remained absolutely silent to the public. He said nothing, he did nothing: and yet there were many close observers of politics who thought more than once that all would fall back into his hands, that Lord Salisbury would be forced to invite him to rejoin upon terms or leave him to form a Government of his own.

To Chamberlain, who had spoken of him in words of warm appreciation a few days before—saying, among other things, that Lord Randolph Churchill’s position in the Government had been a guarantee that they would not pursue a reactionary policy—he wrote with complete candour:—

December 24, 1886.

Your letter just received and your speech gave me equal delight. I told you that a Ministerial crisis was coming when you dined with me, but I own I did not think that I should have failed to persuade Lord S. to take a broad view of the situation. I had no choice but to go; he had been for weeks prepared for it, and possibly courted the crash. I did my best for his Government while I was in it, but I had ceased to be useful.... Their innate Toryism is rampant and irrepressible.

Party papers seem to think the most awful crime which a modern politician can commit is to have a spark of principle or a regard for former pledges.... I feel much in the dark as to the future; my position is completely dÉclassÉ. I hear the Carlton would like to tear me limb from limb; and yet does no blame or responsibility attach [to Lord S.?] The anxiety of the last two days has made me very seedy.

His mother had, as usual, a somewhat more hopeful account.

Treasury Chambers, Whitehall: December 28, 1886.

I have as yet no news. Hartington may join. Goschen is to meet him in Paris to-morrow; it all depends whether he can be re-elected or not. Wolff is too faithful for description. I am pleased with the general tone of the Press. I expected it to be much worse. I can’t bear to leave this room, where I can sit and think and hear everything quickly. The matter is very critical, but by no means desperate, and may drag on indefinitely for some days.

I am very well and in very good spirits. Please do not worry about me or put off your journey.

The pleasant party at Howth, to which he had been looking forward, must be forsaken.

Lord Randolph Churchill to Lord Justice FitzGibbon.

Treasury Chambers, Whitehall, S.W.: December 24, 1886.

You see my Irish hopes are shattered. I mean the Howth hopes. I have nothing to do but to keep very quiet for the moment, and pleasure is out of the question.

I hope you do not blame me hastily. It was certain to come, and delay produced danger.

I should like to tell you all about it; it is too long to write.

I feel rather seedy, as the anxiety has wearied me awfully; so do not write more.

Treasury Chambers, Whitehall, S.W.: December 26, 1886.

I cannot manage Howth this year, though you must know what a disappointment to me it is not to join you. But I should be a wet-blanket altogether, and, moreover, I could not stand the ‘Tutissimus.’[60] He would drive me wild with his airs of moral triumph and success.

What a time we are having! Lord S. has committed a capital blunder in again prostrating himself before Hartington. Why did he not set his back to the wall and go on, coÛte que coÛte? Still, you must not think I have any illusions about myself. In inflicting on the old gang this final fatal blow, I have mortally wounded myself. But the work is practically done; the Tory Party will be turned into a Liberal Party, and in that transformation may yet produce a powerful governing force. If not, G.O.M., Labby, anarchy, &c., are triumphant.

Interesting times, my dear FitzGibbon! I wonder what old Ball says.

So far as the political world was concerned, he contented himself with writing a private letter to Mr. Akers-Douglas for the assurance of his political friends and for the information of Conservative members of Parliament who might inquire. It is remarkable that this letter has never yet been published:—

Treasury Chambers, Whitehall, S.W.: New Year’s Day, 1887.

My dear Douglas,—Having noticed in the newspapers this morning a variety of mischievous nonsense taking the form of statements as to my reasons for quitting the Government, my views as to what would be necessary to secure my return to the Government, and suggestions as to terms of reconciliation, I think it proper in the public interest, and as much for purposes of future record as for any other more immediate object, to lay before you my views on the position.

The primary object of all government at the present moment is to maintain the Union, to maintain it not for a session or for a Parliament, but for our time. The maintenance of the Union is, to my mind, in no way a question of men, but entirely a question of measures and administration. Mr. Gladstone has identified the Liberal party with the policy of Repeal; he has behind him Scotland, Wales and Ireland, and no inconsiderable portion of England. In the event of the Conservative Government and party pursuing in the coming session a policy, foreign and domestic, which for one reason or another becomes unpopular with, and is discredited in the eyes of, that great portion of the English electorate which, after a tremendous struggle, has been kept true to the principle of the Union, the inevitable result will be that at the next election Mr. Gladstone and the Liberal party will return to power, pledged to immediate Repeal, and in a position to give immediate effect to their pledge.

The composition of the present Parliament renders it a matter of no insuperable difficulty to carry on the government of the Queen for a session or two, or even longer, tant bien que mal; but such a proceeding, so limited and so narrow in its view, would be, to my mind, the most fallacious and dangerous of statesmanship. From the time when I joined the Government I have never taken my eyes off the next General Election. My one desire has been that Lord Salisbury should be in a position to go boldly to the country at any moment, confident of popular support. To this end every word of advice on any subject which I have ever offered him has been directed, and it was only when it was forced upon me that these views did not practically commend themselves either to him or his colleagues that I took the grave and serious step of releasing myself from all responsibility for a policy which in two or three years would, as far as human judgment may be exercised in such a matter, have led straight to Repeal.

A foreign policy which may at any moment involve this country in a European war; a domestic policy which would be marked by stagnation rather than progress; free expenditure, necessitating continued high taxation, when combined with the defence of the Union, would without doubt weigh down and crush out of all popular life that great and vital Imperial principle. Not only so, but a policy of which the above were the main characteristics not only involved so insignificant a person as myself in a marked violation of pledges given to the public, but also to all intents and purposes the entire Conservative party in the House of Commons. From 1880 to 1885 every Conservative speaker on every public platform has proclaimed, with every variety of style and paraphrase, that the Liberal party have been false to their traditions, and that ‘Peace, Retrenchment and Reform’ could only be practically given effect to by the Tories. Nor can it be doubted that this persistent iteration of a political position which, so far as the Liberals were concerned, could be demonstrated by facts, produced an immense effect upon the masses in the great English towns. Should, however, the results of a year or two of Tory government show that the accusations against the Tory party so constantly made by the Liberals—namely, that the Tory party are the war party, that they are the extravagant party, that they are the do-nothing and obstructive party—can be demonstrated by actual facts and events, it seems certain that the great town electorate, which we have had so much trouble in winning, will sway back violently to the Liberal party, their earlier love, and that the disaster of 1880 will be repeated on a larger scale and with more deadly effect.

To avert such a disaster there is nothing I would not do, nothing I would not sacrifice; but if the catastrophe must come, I will not that anyone shall be able to say that any large portion of responsibility rested upon me.

It was if possible by a desperate effort (so profoundly was I convinced of the magnitude of the peril into which the Tory Government and party were drifting by looking too much to tiding over the difficulties of the moment, and not at all to the next General Election) to rouse my friends to a sense of the position that I resigned my office and incurred with much equanimity the tornado of slander, obloquy and every variety of misrepresentation that friends, and possibly even colleagues, have let loose upon me.

I seek for no re-entry into the present Government; I decline to commence any undignified or unworthy bargaining and huckstering as to the terms of reconciliation; but this I say—that if by any coalition, fusion or reconstruction a Government is formed which by its composition and its policy will be an earnest and a guarantee to the country that a period of peaceful progressive administration has in reality set in, I would serve that Government with the utmost loyalty in any capacity, however humble, either as a member or a follower, only too glad that by any sacrifice or any action of mine I might possibly have averted danger to the State.

Furthermore, this I add: that whatever course the Prime Minister may take at this moment, he need not for one moment fear the smallest opposition, direct or indirect, from me, in Parliament or in the country. I shall make no further attempt to defend my action, lest by any such attempt I might, even by one iota, increase the difficulties which surround him; but, recognising to the full my great fallibility of judgment, I shall watch silently and sadly the progress of events.

Believe me to be
Very sincerely yours,
Randolph S. Churchill.

Mr. Chamberlain’s comment was characteristic:—

Highbury, Moor Green, Birmingham: January 3, 1887.

My dear Churchill,—I return your very interesting Memorandum. If I had been you I do not think I should have added the last paragraph. When a man says that in no case will he return a blow, he is very likely to be cuffed.

However, I dare say Lord Salisbury will not take you too literally at your word, and will avoid any extreme test of your most Christian disposition.

I heard before I left that Goschen was likely to join. He will certainly carry no one else with him, but he may be able to commit Hartington to a more unqualified support than he would otherwise have given to a purely Tory Government.

I understood that one cause of his hesitation was his fear that you would be actively hostile, if he took your place. Probably he has since been reassured by a sight of your letter to Akers-Douglas.

I do not know yet whether anything will come of negotiations between the Gladstonians and the Radical Unionists. I never felt less like ‘a surrender’ in my life, and Labouchere and his crew may put what interpretation they like on the matter, but they will not be able to show that I have advanced one iota from the position of my telegram to the Unionist meeting, extended as it was by my speech in Birmingham.

The future is still obscure to me, but the game is exceedingly interesting at this moment.

Yours sincerely,
J. Chamberlain.

Another explanation was not neglected:—

Lord Randolph Churchill to Sir Henry Ponsonby.

2 Connaught Place, W.: January 13, 1887.

Dear Sir Henry Ponsonby,—I saw His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales to-day, and from an observation which he made I learnt for the first time on authority that the publication of the news of my resignation took place before the matter had been made the subject of official communication to Her Majesty, and that in so far as my action was responsible for such publicity the Queen had cause for displeasure with me.

I am much grieved at this news, and anxious to place on record the facts bearing upon the matter as they are known to me. On Thursday, December 18, I had a long conversation with Lord Salisbury, in which I intimated to him that the expenditure proposed for the Army and Navy was considerably higher than what I could be responsible for in view of my reiterated public pledges as to the necessity for and possibility of retrenchment. On Monday, the 20th, I had a long conversation with the Secretary of State for War, and a written communication from the First Lord of the Admiralty which confirmed me in the views which I had communicated to Lord Salisbury on the previous Thursday.

On Monday, the 20th, in the evening, I wrote from Windsor to Lord Salisbury intimating my desire to withdraw from the Government.

It would have been a source of immense relief to me if I had been able to acquaint Her Majesty with what was passing when I had the honour of dining at Windsor, but my great want of experience of official life led me to believe that had I initiated so grave a matter in the conversation which Her Majesty was graciously pleased to hold with me I should have been guilty of a most unusual breach of etiquette and of Ministerial practice and decorum: all the more as no opening presented itself for bringing up the subject, though in truth my mind was entirely absorbed by it.

Lord Salisbury received my letter early Tuesday morning, the 21st, and no answer from him reached me till eight o’clock on Wednesday evening—a considerable interval, remembering the proximity of Hatfield either to Windsor or London. Lord Salisbury’s answer was of a most definite character, accepting my resignation; and bearing in mind the interval which had elapsed, I made perfectly certain that the fullest communications on the subject had passed between Her Majesty and Lord Salisbury, and that Lord Salisbury’s answer was written with Her Majesty’s knowledge. In fact, it never crossed my mind that the reverse could be the case, and I thought myself justified in no longer making any secret of the fact that I no longer had the honour of belonging to the Government. If I erred in this, it was from ignorance and from misunderstanding, and not the least from design and I would be intensely distressed if it might be supposed that by any action of mine I had been wanting in that profound respect to Her Majesty which it is the high and grateful duty of all to render, and which Her Majesty’s most gracious treatment of myself on several occasions doubly and trebly imposed upon me.

Perhaps indeed I am doing wrong in making you this communication. If so, I trust to your kindness to inform me on the subject before making any use of this letter.

Believe me to be
Yours very truly,
Randolph S. Churchill.

The reply was frigid:—

Sir Henry Ponsonby to Lord Randolph Churchill.

Osborne: January 15, 1887.

Dear Lord Randolph,—The Queen has read your letter relating to the announcement of your resignation before it had been accepted by Her Majesty; and commands me to thank you for your explanation.

Yours very truly,
Henry Ponsonby.

It was about this time, when many from whom he might have expected service were falling away, that Lord Randolph received the sympathy and support of an able man with whom during the next four years he was to be associated, and from whom he was ultimately destined to part in very gloomy circumstances. Mr. Louis Jennings, the Conservative member for Stockport and a full-blooded Fair Trader, looked upon ‘Tory Democracy’ as a living political faith. He was a man of strong character and extensive information who had reached the House of Commons late in life, after a varied career. He had travelled widely, and had taken an active part in the politics of other countries than his own. As the editor of the Times of India he had been largely concerned in the agitation which had led to the suppression of the Juggernaut ceremonial. With the New York Times as his weapon he had broken up, by a prolonged and pitiless audit of their accounts, the Tammany Ring in 1871; and, after a struggle in which his life was said to be in danger, he had hunted the notorious ‘Boss’ Tweed to the gaol in which he died. Taught alike by experience and study, a man of action and a writer, Mr. Jennings was well fitted to become an effective political force, and, as the editor of the Croker papers, he did not lack recognition in the world of letters. He now made himself known to Lord Randolph Churchill in a style which expresses the sincerity of his feelings and reveals the slenderness of their acquaintance:—

73 Elm Park Gardens, S.W.: December 31, 1886.

My Lord,—At a time when all the busybodies and nobodies in the country are thrusting advice upon you I am very reluctant to appear to join the throng. I hope, however, you will permit me to assure you that I have tried to keep my own constituency from committing the gross injustice of condemning a man before he is heard. For my own part, it will take a great deal to convince me that in the great sacrifices you have made, and the grave responsibilities you have incurred, you have not been actuated by a high sense of duty and by the purest and best motives. If this be so—as I feel sure it is—there will be a reaction against all this wild clamour, and the people will do you justice.

I am, my Lord,
Yours very truly,
L. J. Jennings.

Lord Hartington’s determination having been made public, Lord Salisbury next turned to Mr. Goschen. Mr. Goschen’s position was different and distinct from that of Lord Hartington. He was not tied to any particular constituency, and in respect of a seat could avail himself of the large resources of the Conservative party. He had for several years been out of tune with the Liberal policy and, more than any other Whig, he had been alarmed and estranged by the growing influence of Radicalism. He had not joined the Government of 1880, and he was free alike from responsibility for its failures and resentment towards its assailants. Lord Hartington was the leader of a party with the obligations and restrictions of leadership. Mr. Goschen was eminent, but detached. Moreover, his high financial authority would strengthen the Government at the very point where it had been most seriously weakened. He was now invited to go to the Treasury, and it was generally believed that, whatever temporary arrangements were made, the leadership in the Commons would soon devolve upon him.

Mr. Goschen nevertheless showed some hesitation in joining the Government. To participate in a regular Coalition in company with political friends wore a different complexion from entering the Cabinet of the opposite political party alone. He desired most strongly to preserve his relations with Lord Hartington and his character as a Liberal; and even when reassured on these points he stipulated that two other Whigs should be included in the Cabinet to give him countenance and support. Places were thereupon offered to Lord Northbrook and Lord Lansdowne. But at this the Conservative party, so far as it was represented by the Carlton Club, again showed such disapproval that these peers felt it their duty to decline office, and in the end Mr. Goschen was fain to join without them. For the rest, Mr. Smith became First Lord of the Treasury, with the leadership of the House of Commons; Stanhope took the War Office and Sir Henry Holland the Colonies; while Lord Salisbury himself assumed, none too soon, the direction of foreign affairs.

Mr. Goschen’s acceptance of office definitely put an end to the Cabinet crisis. ‘The new Chancellor of the Exchequer,’ observed the Times tartly, ‘will take Lord Randolph Churchill’s place in more senses than one.’ The Government was completely reconstituted, and no expectation of overtures or reconciliation could be entertained. It has in consequence often been represented that this appointment was to Lord Randolph a contingency utterly unforeseen. The saying, so often attributed to him, ‘I forgot Goschen,’ is interpreted as a key to deep designs. In an elaborate calculation he had overlooked a vital factor. In the moment of success he was ruined by an inexplicable neglect. The evidence upon these pages does not sustain this view. He marshalled no forces against the Prime Minister. With an imprudence born of repeated success, he prepared no combination, either of circumstances or men, to support his demands. He went into battle without allies or armour. He set his unaided personal power—as he had often done before—to back his opinions, and awaited the issue with an easy mind. He had not, of course, considered Mr. Goschen’s financial reputation in connection with a vacancy at the Exchequer; but, so far from forgetting Mr. Goschen himself, he was constantly solicitous for him. A Coalition with all or any of the Whigs had been for three years his consistent and persistent aim. After the election of 1885 he was willing to resign, that Mr. Goschen might join the Administration. In his memorandum written before the first meeting of Parliament in 1886 he again strongly pressed upon Lord Salisbury that places should be offered to the Whigs, including Mr. Goschen. In November he was concerned that Mr. Goschen should be elected to Parliament and urged Lord Salisbury to put him forward for a seat which might soon be vacant. And lastly, on December 18, two days before his letter of resignation, when the dispute in the Cabinet was at its height, both Lord Salisbury and Mr. Goschen were his guests at a dinner the avowed object of which was to bring them together. However decisive, however disastrous to Lord Randolph the inclusion of Mr. Goschen in the Government at this time may have been, it was no surprise; for he had always been its advocate. It was not fatal to his schemes; for there were no schemes.

Lord Randolph Churchill to Lord Dunraven.

2 Connaught Place, W.: January 12, 1887.

My dear Dunraven,—I consider honestly that you are quite as good a judge as to what the political position requires from moderate progressive politicians as I am. You have seen all the correspondence between me and Lord Salisbury, as well as my letter to Akers-Douglas, about which last Lord S. says it makes the breach unbridgeable. Therefore my explanation, when it comes, will add little or nothing to your knowledge.

With respect to persons like ——, ——, &c., whom I look upon as my friends, I have been most careful to check any tendency to follow my example, for resignation might be fatal to their political career, on which they depend almost for social existence, and I was most fearful of any responsibility attaching to me for having led them to extinction.

With you I feel in a different position. You have a social and political position of your own, which the holding of a minor office in the Government by no means enhances, and which the loss of such an office would by no means affect.

Tory Democracy may be a bad name, but it represents to you and me and many more certain distinct political principles which you and I hold very strongly. That those principles are in the utmost peril just now there can be no doubt. We know what Lord Salisbury is, and we know what Goschen is, and we know that our views are regarded by both with unrelenting distrust and aversion.

On the whole, I think you are in a position to try a bold course; and you must not undervalue your strength in the country, where you are well known, followed by many, and greatly regarded by all. However, let us talk it over this afternoon at the Carlton.

Yours ever,
Randolph S. C.

Eventually Lord Dunraven decided to resign the office which he held, of Under-Secretary for the Colonies; but his partnership with Lord Randolph Churchill proved in the end more noticeable at Newmarket than at Westminster.

Perhaps some day it may be possible to publish in a complete form the letters, some of which have been quoted in these pages, which passed between Lord Salisbury and Lord Randolph Churchill during their eventful association. Although the period scarcely extended above two years, the correspondence would attain considerable dimensions. Yet the reader would be wise to persevere: for when we consider the easy yet forceful pens employed; the profound and secret knowledge of political movements and forces at work which both possessed; the importance, range and fascinating variety of subjects; the changing relationships and antagonisms of the writers; above all, the free and candid style of their intercourse—whether in regard to men or things—one cannot imagine any compilation which would more truthfully illuminate the dark and stormy history of those times. All that, however, is a matter for the future. Such as it had been, the correspondence was now to close, for hardly any communication—and that only of a formal nature—was desired on either side in the years which followed. Nevertheless, its conclusion was not unworthy.

Lord Iddesleigh had been apparently forgotten in the reconstruction of the Cabinet. In the strife and excitement of these harsh days this unwarlike figure had dropped out of men’s minds. Lord Salisbury’s assumption of the Foreign Office necessarily displaced him; and he was, perhaps not unreasonably, offended to read the first news of it in the daily papers of January 12. It was said by the wags that ‘Randolph had driven him from the House of Commons in his rise, and from the Cabinet in his fall.’ Tragedy, never very far behind the curtain, came forward swiftly on the heels of this. That same afternoon Lord Iddesleigh called upon Lord Salisbury at Downing Street, and, being overtaken in the anteroom by the heart disease from which he had so long been afflicted, he expired in the presence of the Prime Minister.

The disputes between Lord Randolph Churchill and Sir Stafford Northcote have been very fully recorded in this story; and I fear their harsh features cannot truthfully be softened or smoothed away. They must be judged as a whole and in relation to the circumstances of the time. Here is the last word upon them:—

Lord Randolph Churchill to Lord Salisbury.

2 Connaught Place, W.: January 13, 1887.

Dear Lord Salisbury,—Although a great and wide political difference has separated me from you officially, I cannot refrain (even possibly at the risk of being misunderstood) from writing you a line to express how greatly I grieve for the shock you must have experienced owing to the melancholy occurrence of yesterday afternoon. It seems very hard on you that this grave event should have come now to add its own weight to the many other troubles and worries which circumstances purely political have occasioned.

I felt much the old Lord’s death, for he had for years past gone through much bother, disappointment, and probably vexation, nor can I conveniently repress the reflection quorum pars magna fui. But this I can say from my own knowledge, consisting of the recollection of many facts and conversations, that never in public life did any man have a truer friend and colleague than Lord Iddesleigh had in you; and certainly if rewards, honours and the praise of men are sources of satisfaction, Lord Iddesleigh enjoyed them in a fuller measure than any other contemporary, and that he did so I consider to be mainly owing to the unwavering loyalty with which you invariably supported him, checked all depreciation, and stimulated constant recognition of his public services.

I like to place this on record, though possibly it may be deemed somewhat presumptuous, for it has been my fortune in the last two or three years to see as much almost perhaps as anyone into the inner and more concealed working of our party life.

Believe me to be, with much sympathy,
Yours most sincerely,
Randolph S. Churchill.

Lord Salisbury to Lord Randolph Churchill.

Hatfield House, Hatfield, Herts: January 14, 1887.

My dear Randolph,—I am very grateful for the kind sympathy expressed in your letter of yesterday, and very much touched by it. Your testimony to my bearing towards our old friend in the past is thoughtful and generous.

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 700,000l. 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 700,000l. 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 170,000l. after his resignation. The Supplementary Estimate of 500,000l. 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 1,400,000l.; 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.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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