1887-1893
Meanwhile outside the House of Commons and the forbidding circles of politics Lord Randolph was developing during these years new interests and amusements. Excitement in one form or another always attracted him, and after his resignation he sought it on the Turf. In partnership with Lord Dunraven he soon acquired a number of horses, to whose training and running he paid the closest attention. He became a shrewd judge of ‘form.’ In handicaps especially, his forecasts were so often fulfilled that he acquired quite a reputation among his sporting friends. On the morning of a race meeting he would sit for hours pencilling upon the card, by the aid ofRuff’s Guide, calculations which led very often to conclusions that were right and still more often to conclusions that were nearly right. Under his eye Sherwood’s stable became successful and for two years at least stood high in the winning lists. His footsteps fell upon some odd streaks of luck. While he was away fishing in Norway, in the summer of 1889, his mare the Abbesse de Jouarrewon the Oaks at odds of twenty to one. At Doncaster, the year before, he dreamed he saw a number hoisted. On consulting his card the next day he found that only one horse running had so high a number. Inquiries led to the belief that this horse had a much better chance than the odds at which it stood suggested. Lord Randolph backed it heavily and won a considerable sum. Against the advice of his trainer he insisted on running the Abbesse de Jouarre for the Manchester Cup in 1889, and her victory constituted perhaps his most fortunate speculation. Of other horses which he owned or leased it is not necessary to speak, but during the years 1887 to 1891 Lord Randolph’s colours—‘chocolate, pink sleeves and cap’—were often to the fore.
Standing, as he did, apart from the ordinary groupings of party, he cultivated during these years pleasant relations with politicians of every shade. At his sister Lady Tweedmouth’s house he met Mr. Gladstone more frequently than he had ever done before. Lord Randolph treated the illustrious old man with the utmost deference, and each appears to have derived much satisfaction from the other’s society. ‘He was the most courtly man I ever met,’ observed Mr. Gladstone in later years to Mr. Morley. At one dinner at Brook House Mr. Gladstone had talked with great vivacity and freedom and held everyone breathless. ‘And that,’ said Lord Randolph to a Liberal-Unionist friend, as they walked out of the room together, ‘that is the man you have left? How could you have done it?’
His own society was eagerly sought by his friends; for he had much treasure to give as a companion, if only he were in the giving vein. The gay and reckless brilliancy of his conversation fascinated all who came within its range. He would talk and argue with entire freedom on every subject. He loved to defend daring paradoxes; and when forced to exert himself he would produce arguments so original and ingenious that the listeners were delighted, even if they were unconvinced. He sometimes amused himself by saying things on purpose to shock ponderous people, and in painting himself extravagantly in the darkest hues, so that they departed grieved to think there was so much wickedness left in the world. He excelled in all kinds of chaff and conversational sword-play—from sombre irony to schoolboy fun. When he wanted to persuade people to do any particular thing, he took enormous pains, seeming to touch by instinct all the feelings and reasons which moved or disturbed them, and very often he coaxed or compelled them to his wishes. On the other hand, he did not care how rude he was to those who wearied or irritated him, and he would toss and gore fools with true Johnsonian vigour and zest. In this abrupt and impulsive way he hurt the feelings of some harmless people and disquieted a good many more; but if he were sorry afterwards, as he very often was, he could nearly always make amends by a word or a smile or some little courtesy, and the sun shone out all the brighter for the storm. Although in his later years the nervous irritability of his nature became extreme,he steadily enlarged the circle of his private friends, and those who had known him long were increasingly attached to him. Not without justice could they apply to him Addison’s well-known lines:—
In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow,Thou’rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow,Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about thee,There is no living with thee, nor without thee.[73]
In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow,Thou’rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow,Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about thee,There is no living with thee, nor without thee.[73]
Lord Randolph was wont to pass much of the autumn and winter abroad and each year he pushed his travels further afield and remained a longer time. In August of 1888 he had visited Tarbes—the constituency which returned his friend the Marquis de Breteuil to the French Chamber—and here spent some placid agreeable weeks of fine weather amid splendid mountains, while his companion conciliated the principal electors by intercourse and entertainment. Of the attractions of Tarbes and its neighbourhood—better known, perhaps, to French and Spanish visitors than to the English tourist—it would be superfluous to write, for they were set forth by the local newspaper in a passage whose hospitable extravagance I shall venture to quote:—
Nous apprenons l’arrivée dans notre département de lord Randolph Churchill, qui vient y retrouver son ami M. le Marquis de Breteuil.Nous souhaitons la bienvenue dans nos montagnes au noble Lord, au brillant orateur de la Chambre des Communes.Il est certain d’y recevoir un accueil cordial de la part denos députés et courtois de la part de nos populations qui n’ont jamais failli aux devoirs de l’hospitalité.Il y retrouvera, avec un climat plus doux même que celui du Devonshire, des sites plus enchanteurs encore, des sommets plus élevés que le Snowdon, des lacs aussi bleus que le Lomond, des torrents plus impétueux que le Glen et le Liddel.Si le daim, le cerf et la grouse nous font défaut, nous avons l’izard, la caille savoureuse, la perdrix noire, la perdrix blanche, le coq de bruyère, la bécasse, le lièvre, etc. L’ours même s’y rencontre, mais ... difficilement.Chose plus importante encore, si l’honorable membre de la Chambre des Communes avait, victime de son éloquence, le larynx fatigué, les eaux merveilleuses de Cauterets seraient là pour le guérir.De toutes les façons, nous avons la conviction que lord Churchill emportera de nos Pyrénées un bon souvenir.
Nous apprenons l’arrivée dans notre département de lord Randolph Churchill, qui vient y retrouver son ami M. le Marquis de Breteuil.
Nous souhaitons la bienvenue dans nos montagnes au noble Lord, au brillant orateur de la Chambre des Communes.
Il est certain d’y recevoir un accueil cordial de la part denos députés et courtois de la part de nos populations qui n’ont jamais failli aux devoirs de l’hospitalité.
Il y retrouvera, avec un climat plus doux même que celui du Devonshire, des sites plus enchanteurs encore, des sommets plus élevés que le Snowdon, des lacs aussi bleus que le Lomond, des torrents plus impétueux que le Glen et le Liddel.
Si le daim, le cerf et la grouse nous font défaut, nous avons l’izard, la caille savoureuse, la perdrix noire, la perdrix blanche, le coq de bruyère, la bécasse, le lièvre, etc. L’ours même s’y rencontre, mais ... difficilement.
Chose plus importante encore, si l’honorable membre de la Chambre des Communes avait, victime de son éloquence, le larynx fatigué, les eaux merveilleuses de Cauterets seraient là pour le guérir.
De toutes les façons, nous avons la conviction que lord Churchill emportera de nos Pyrénées un bon souvenir.
To his Wife.Tarbes: August 1, 1888.Here we are very peaceable and comfortable—beautiful weather, splendid mountains, and nothing to bother about. This is a charming place; house and garden both very pretty. Breteuil’s electors drop in at odd times and some remain to breakfast and some to dinner. They are not very amusing, but very harmless and interesting as types of French provincial society. The worst of the electors is that they will not go to bed; but remain very late. I suppose they are too glad to get an evening out.The charm of this place is the absence of any crowd. French and Spaniards are the only people who come here and English and Americans are conspicuous by their absence. I tried the ‘douches’ at Cauterets. They are very pleasant at the moment, but, I think, enervating. We dined last night in company with Mons. de Gontaut, formerly Ambassador in Berlin—a charming old man.... Yesterday we drove to Lourdes, a very extraordinary place—a monument of ‘labêtise humaine.’ A great number of electors are coming to dinner in the evening.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .I have just seen a man 118 years old. His father lived to be 114, and died from a fall from a horse; his mother lived to be 108. He is a Spaniard who lives at Tarbes—quite a poor man, subsisting on charity; looks about 70 years old, has all his teeth, lots of grey hair, and he walked here all the way from the town—about three-quarters of a mile. There is no doubt about his age, as his papers are all in order. He served eight years in the French army in Spain and was present at the siege of Saragossa. He said he would be glad to die, as he was quite tired of living so long.... Breteuil’s colleague in the representation of this department arrived this morning.
To his Wife.
Tarbes: August 1, 1888.
Here we are very peaceable and comfortable—beautiful weather, splendid mountains, and nothing to bother about. This is a charming place; house and garden both very pretty. Breteuil’s electors drop in at odd times and some remain to breakfast and some to dinner. They are not very amusing, but very harmless and interesting as types of French provincial society. The worst of the electors is that they will not go to bed; but remain very late. I suppose they are too glad to get an evening out.
The charm of this place is the absence of any crowd. French and Spaniards are the only people who come here and English and Americans are conspicuous by their absence. I tried the ‘douches’ at Cauterets. They are very pleasant at the moment, but, I think, enervating. We dined last night in company with Mons. de Gontaut, formerly Ambassador in Berlin—a charming old man.... Yesterday we drove to Lourdes, a very extraordinary place—a monument of ‘labêtise humaine.’ A great number of electors are coming to dinner in the evening.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I have just seen a man 118 years old. His father lived to be 114, and died from a fall from a horse; his mother lived to be 108. He is a Spaniard who lives at Tarbes—quite a poor man, subsisting on charity; looks about 70 years old, has all his teeth, lots of grey hair, and he walked here all the way from the town—about three-quarters of a mile. There is no doubt about his age, as his papers are all in order. He served eight years in the French army in Spain and was present at the siege of Saragossa. He said he would be glad to die, as he was quite tired of living so long.... Breteuil’s colleague in the representation of this department arrived this morning.
Now in 1890 he would go to Egypt, where with two old friends he had leased adahabeahon the Nile. His letters to his wife, from which I make a few extracts, describe the even progress of the journey.
Monte Carlo: November 25, 1890.So to-day is the meeting of Parliament. How thankful I am not to be going down to the House! In this morning’sGalignanithere is a sensational announcement that a dissolution of Parliament is to take place in the spring. I do not believe it, though perhaps, as Parnell’s love affairs have thrown disarray among the Home Rulers, some of the Ministers might think it a good moment. But ‘a bird in the hand’ is what Lord S. will be guided by.
Monte Carlo: November 25, 1890.
So to-day is the meeting of Parliament. How thankful I am not to be going down to the House! In this morning’sGalignanithere is a sensational announcement that a dissolution of Parliament is to take place in the spring. I do not believe it, though perhaps, as Parnell’s love affairs have thrown disarray among the Home Rulers, some of the Ministers might think it a good moment. But ‘a bird in the hand’ is what Lord S. will be guided by.
Rome: December 3, 1890.Your nice long letter was very pleasant to receive. I should like to get them very often. I also got your telegram about a letter from Fardell posted to Naples, which I suppose I will receive to-morrow. I hope he does not announce a dissolution. Parnell’s manifesto is a masterpiece. He lifts the issue between himself and Mr. Gladstone from the smallground of the divorce up to the large ground of a great political question. He may hold his own; but it must mean a complete smash-up of the Home Rule alliance.... The Government will be fools if they do not dissolve. This crash of the Home Rule party, this repudiation by Parnell of Mr. G.’s scheme, is the most complete and glaring justification of the Unionist cause. They will never get a better chance. However, I hope they won’t do so, as it would spoil my Egyptian plans.... I fear that bad Land Bill may now pass and make heaps of difficulty and trouble for future Governments....
Rome: December 3, 1890.
Your nice long letter was very pleasant to receive. I should like to get them very often. I also got your telegram about a letter from Fardell posted to Naples, which I suppose I will receive to-morrow. I hope he does not announce a dissolution. Parnell’s manifesto is a masterpiece. He lifts the issue between himself and Mr. Gladstone from the smallground of the divorce up to the large ground of a great political question. He may hold his own; but it must mean a complete smash-up of the Home Rule alliance.... The Government will be fools if they do not dissolve. This crash of the Home Rule party, this repudiation by Parnell of Mr. G.’s scheme, is the most complete and glaring justification of the Unionist cause. They will never get a better chance. However, I hope they won’t do so, as it would spoil my Egyptian plans.... I fear that bad Land Bill may now pass and make heaps of difficulty and trouble for future Governments....
Dahabeah, Ammon Ra, near Luxor: December 28, 1890.It was very pleasant on waking up this morning to find a bundle of letters from you and others. They were brought down the river by one of Cook’s steamers from Luxor, where we shall arrive in about an hour.... We have been eight days on the journey from Assiout, as, except for two days, the wind has not been favourable and our steam launch is not strong enough to tow us more than about three miles an hour. I cannot tell you how pleasant it has been; one day more perfect than another, and yet the heat has never been oppressive. The days slip by as if they were hours. The newspapers came to hand at Assiout—though newspapers here seem to be superfluities—and I was able to read up all the news to the 13th.... It certainly looks as if the Government had been immeasurably strengthened and would require no help from anyone. But all these things concern me very little. We are enjoying ourselves immensely. Life on the Nile is ideal. The scenery would be monotonous if it were not on so vast a scale; but as it is, one never tires of it. Certainly this is the only place to pass the winter if fine warm weather is desired.... I must say I wish you were on board this boat—a week of this weather and rest would make you as strong as a horse. Perhaps next winter, if we are alive and well, we may do it together....
Dahabeah, Ammon Ra, near Luxor: December 28, 1890.
It was very pleasant on waking up this morning to find a bundle of letters from you and others. They were brought down the river by one of Cook’s steamers from Luxor, where we shall arrive in about an hour.... We have been eight days on the journey from Assiout, as, except for two days, the wind has not been favourable and our steam launch is not strong enough to tow us more than about three miles an hour. I cannot tell you how pleasant it has been; one day more perfect than another, and yet the heat has never been oppressive. The days slip by as if they were hours. The newspapers came to hand at Assiout—though newspapers here seem to be superfluities—and I was able to read up all the news to the 13th.... It certainly looks as if the Government had been immeasurably strengthened and would require no help from anyone. But all these things concern me very little. We are enjoying ourselves immensely. Life on the Nile is ideal. The scenery would be monotonous if it were not on so vast a scale; but as it is, one never tires of it. Certainly this is the only place to pass the winter if fine warm weather is desired.... I must say I wish you were on board this boat—a week of this weather and rest would make you as strong as a horse. Perhaps next winter, if we are alive and well, we may do it together....
enlarge-imageLady Randolph Churchill. From a drawing by John S. Sargent, R.A.Lady Randolph Churchill.From a drawing by John S. Sargent, R.A.
1891Æt.41
Dahabeah, Ammon Ra, Denderah: January 6, 1891.I can, I fear, ill repay you for your very interesting letter of the 24th. All I can say is that it was thoroughly appreciated. I have little or nothing to tell you. A life without incident and without emotion has many advantages; but does not lend itself to correspondence, either as regards energy or material. I have seen Philæ and the Cataract, as also the temples of Edfoo and of this place—most interesting. Also a long expedition from Luxor to the tombs of the kings, some four thousand years old. Each king must have passed his lifetime in making his tomb, and if it was not finished when he died he had to go without. The weather has been perfect—day after day of cloudless skies, cool breezes and unparalleled sunsets. We read, we smoke, we lounge, we play picquet—at which I continue to hold exceedingly indifferent cards.... We shall dawdle out our time here as much as possible, as we do not want to be more than a day in Cairo.
Dahabeah, Ammon Ra, Denderah: January 6, 1891.
I can, I fear, ill repay you for your very interesting letter of the 24th. All I can say is that it was thoroughly appreciated. I have little or nothing to tell you. A life without incident and without emotion has many advantages; but does not lend itself to correspondence, either as regards energy or material. I have seen Philæ and the Cataract, as also the temples of Edfoo and of this place—most interesting. Also a long expedition from Luxor to the tombs of the kings, some four thousand years old. Each king must have passed his lifetime in making his tomb, and if it was not finished when he died he had to go without. The weather has been perfect—day after day of cloudless skies, cool breezes and unparalleled sunsets. We read, we smoke, we lounge, we play picquet—at which I continue to hold exceedingly indifferent cards.... We shall dawdle out our time here as much as possible, as we do not want to be more than a day in Cairo.
To Sir Henry James, who wrote him accounts of the strange developments at Westminster, he framed a more elaborate reply than was usual with him in private correspondence:—
Dahabea, ‘Ammon Ra.’ Edfu, 60 miles south of Luxor:Jan. 3, 1891.Your amiable and friendly letter reached me here this morning on my return from a visit to and prolonged study of a temple erected by the Ptolemies 250B.C.It is ridiculously modern compared with Karnac, but its comparatively perfect state enables one usefully to imagine what Karnac was. In such a frame of mind, embracing a period of 10,000 years, your home politics, your House of Commons interests, the eloquence of Smith, the courage of Balfour, the honesty of Hartington, the financial genius of Goschen and the adroitness of Joe, all acted upon, stimulated and developed by the lax morals of Parnell, present themselvesto my mental optics much in the same manner as fleas may attract the notice of an elephant. I am living with Rameses, Thotmes and Seti, and I have despised the Ptolemies as parvenus, and Cleopatra as ——! Imagine therefore how infinitely little becomes the struggle of the Kilkenny factions, the senile drivellings of Mr. Gladstone on Ravenswood which you think worthy of mention, the remorse of the officeless Harcourt or the doubting gloom of Morley. Here on this placid expanse of limitless plain and river and among these Egyptian temples you appear to me, as I say, like performing fleas. I was once a flea like you and skipped as nimbly as any of you, but have by some Pythagorean process emerged from that abject condition, and prefer musings over an immense past to worryings over a little present.In addition to the attractions of this country and of its historic associations, we have and enjoy ideal weather, perfect peace, absence of all noise and a floating domicile in all respects comfortable; good food, hock, champagne, Pilsener beer, Marquis chocolate, ripe bananas, fresh dates, and literally hundreds of French novels, recourse to which is interrupted by games of picquet, in which the lucky Harry T[yrrwhit] has gained of me 10,000 1d.points. French novels, cards and Egyptian temples assimilate pleasantly, but English newspapers and English news are out of tune with these surroundings. And what pleases me most in your letter is the reflection to which it gives rise, that I still exist in the memory of a friend.This is the part of the world in which you must pass your next winter. This heavenly climate will tame the most ferocious gout and tranquillise the most irritated nerves. If all is well, I will conduct you here next winter, introduce to you my friends Rameses & Co., forbid you the acquaintance of the vulgar Ptolemies, and gain from you 10,000 1d.points at picquet.We have reached our Southern limit at Assouan, and are now leisurely floating down the current back to Cairo, backto noise, back to cold, back to tiresome women, back toTimesleading articles, all inventions of the devil from which Providence has preserved the waters of the Nile....I do not think I have ever experienced so pleasant a time as during the last three weeks. I have arrived at the condition of the true philosopher; nerves calm, health good, everything to please the eye and the mind. The past affords matter for agreeable reflection. The future appears without vexation. I can inform myself with interest but without emotions either of pleasure or displeasure of the good or evil fortunes of my enemies or my friends, and I please myself with the imagination that if I were to die to-morrow, I should have experienced and exhausted, prudently abandoning before satiation, every form of human excitement. This is what you can come to if you spend your next winter in Egypt; and it is to repay you for your letter that I thus lengthily suggest to you the prospect of obtaining at least six weeks of happiness and peace in the year of our Lord 1891.
Dahabea, ‘Ammon Ra.’ Edfu, 60 miles south of Luxor:Jan. 3, 1891.
Your amiable and friendly letter reached me here this morning on my return from a visit to and prolonged study of a temple erected by the Ptolemies 250B.C.It is ridiculously modern compared with Karnac, but its comparatively perfect state enables one usefully to imagine what Karnac was. In such a frame of mind, embracing a period of 10,000 years, your home politics, your House of Commons interests, the eloquence of Smith, the courage of Balfour, the honesty of Hartington, the financial genius of Goschen and the adroitness of Joe, all acted upon, stimulated and developed by the lax morals of Parnell, present themselvesto my mental optics much in the same manner as fleas may attract the notice of an elephant. I am living with Rameses, Thotmes and Seti, and I have despised the Ptolemies as parvenus, and Cleopatra as ——! Imagine therefore how infinitely little becomes the struggle of the Kilkenny factions, the senile drivellings of Mr. Gladstone on Ravenswood which you think worthy of mention, the remorse of the officeless Harcourt or the doubting gloom of Morley. Here on this placid expanse of limitless plain and river and among these Egyptian temples you appear to me, as I say, like performing fleas. I was once a flea like you and skipped as nimbly as any of you, but have by some Pythagorean process emerged from that abject condition, and prefer musings over an immense past to worryings over a little present.
In addition to the attractions of this country and of its historic associations, we have and enjoy ideal weather, perfect peace, absence of all noise and a floating domicile in all respects comfortable; good food, hock, champagne, Pilsener beer, Marquis chocolate, ripe bananas, fresh dates, and literally hundreds of French novels, recourse to which is interrupted by games of picquet, in which the lucky Harry T[yrrwhit] has gained of me 10,000 1d.points. French novels, cards and Egyptian temples assimilate pleasantly, but English newspapers and English news are out of tune with these surroundings. And what pleases me most in your letter is the reflection to which it gives rise, that I still exist in the memory of a friend.
This is the part of the world in which you must pass your next winter. This heavenly climate will tame the most ferocious gout and tranquillise the most irritated nerves. If all is well, I will conduct you here next winter, introduce to you my friends Rameses & Co., forbid you the acquaintance of the vulgar Ptolemies, and gain from you 10,000 1d.points at picquet.
We have reached our Southern limit at Assouan, and are now leisurely floating down the current back to Cairo, backto noise, back to cold, back to tiresome women, back toTimesleading articles, all inventions of the devil from which Providence has preserved the waters of the Nile....
I do not think I have ever experienced so pleasant a time as during the last three weeks. I have arrived at the condition of the true philosopher; nerves calm, health good, everything to please the eye and the mind. The past affords matter for agreeable reflection. The future appears without vexation. I can inform myself with interest but without emotions either of pleasure or displeasure of the good or evil fortunes of my enemies or my friends, and I please myself with the imagination that if I were to die to-morrow, I should have experienced and exhausted, prudently abandoning before satiation, every form of human excitement. This is what you can come to if you spend your next winter in Egypt; and it is to repay you for your letter that I thus lengthily suggest to you the prospect of obtaining at least six weeks of happiness and peace in the year of our Lord 1891.
1887-1890
It is instructive to notice that Lord Randolph’s conduct during the years that followed his resignation will bear a far more exacting scrutiny than the years of his good fortune. Differing as he did on many questions from the Government, separated from them by the personal dislike or distrust with which he was regarded, he had nevertheless given them, so far as he conscientiously could, a loyal and regular support. He had never spoken against them except when compelled by opinions plainly declared in former years, or moved by deep feeling; and then he had always practised a moderation in tone and language foreign to his disposition. He had done nothing to embarrass them or hamper them. Hehad never made a personal attack on any of his late colleagues, nor can I discover any unkind or acrimonious word used about them. From time to time he had tried to influence their policy in directions which he believed the public interest and their own equally required; but these occasions had been rare and he had usually been right. Although the object of much abuse and even hatred from his old friends, he nourished no thoughts of permanent separation. ‘Born and bred,’ he wrote in 1891, ‘in the Conservative party, I could never join the ranks of their opponents.’ ‘I have always been,’ he told his constituents (February 22, 1891), ‘more or less of an independent member. From the year 1874, when I entered Parliament, to the year 1880—during the time of Lord Beaconsfield’s Government—I felt it my duty on more than one occasion to vote and speak against that powerful Government, and at times when in certain circles in London even to whisper a doubt as to its wisdom was considered almost treasonable. From 1880 to 1885 I pursued a course in Parliament of the greatest freedom and independence. More than once I went my own way, not caring much whether anyone followed; but I hardly think there are those who will assert that my action from 1880 to 1885 did injury to the Tory party. I have been unable even of late years to divest myself of my independent character. Lord Melbourne—or was it Lord Palmerston?—once characterised an independent member of Parliament as a member who could not be depended upon. Well, this much iscertain. If I am called upon to support a reactionary and antiquated policy, then I am not to be depended upon. If I am called upon to approve illiberal or sham legislation, then I am not to be depended upon. If I am called upon to support an aggressive policy or a policy of large expenditure, then I am not to be depended upon. But if I am called upon to abide by pledges I have given on any platform or in any published letter or to support the political principles I have advocated, since I entered Parliament, then I can confidently point out to you my past career as a proof that I am to be depended upon—more, perhaps, than any devoted partisan of the present Government.’
These were the best years of his intellectual power—a short summer when his mind was most fertile and his judgment ripe and prescient. Almost alone and unsupported he had by sheer personal force and persuasive speech commanded respect and procured important decisions. Grave or gay, in attack, defence, or exposition, on all sorts of subjects and in all sorts of humours, the House of Commons had delighted to hear him; and what he said in Parliament or out of doors, whether about politics or other matters, was received and examined with national attention. But let it be observed that Lord Randolph Churchill was beaten, whatever he did, when he played the national game; and was victorious, whatever he did, while he played the party game. No question of ‘taste’ or ‘patriotism’ was raised when what he said, however outrageous, suited his party. No claim of truth counted when what hesaid, however incontrovertible, was awkward for his party. Yet almost fiercely he asserted his loyalty to the Unionist cause.
‘It was not difficult for me to notice,’ he wrote in 1891, in a letter to his constituents, never published, ‘that after power was assured to the Tory leaders for some years by the General Election of 1886, it was their intention to stand on the old ways of Toryism in respect to Ireland, foreign policy and expenditure. Then I went away from them. On three occasions since during the last long five years have I gone against them: (1) When they threatened to recommence the policy of military expenditure in the Soudan; (2) when in 1888 the present Leader of the House of Commons, then Chief Secretary, ridiculed and denounced in the House the demand of the Irish members for Local Self-government; (3) when in 1890 I declared against the iniquitous and infamous policy of the Parnell Commission. With these three exceptions I often supported the Government by speech and vote in Parliament; I even spoke and voted in favour of their Coercion Bill in 1887, though I was much startled and disquieted afterwards by the manner of its administration; and in 1887, 1888, and 1889 I addressed large public meetings in their support. For the rest of the time, when I disagreed and doubted—as was often the case—I stood aloof and held my peace; and you must well remember that on more than one occasion in past sessions this strong Government and party managed to get themselves into the sorest straits, and that opportunities were offeredof paying off some old scores which, if personal considerations had influenced me, I should not have neglected and which, I expect, not many politicians would have allowed to pass by. Bear this in mind, I pray you, in common justice when you hear me freely accused—as I have often been, and shall be again—of disloyalty to the Tory or the Unionist party; contrast the line of action I have followed with action followed in former Parliaments towards former Governments by former out-going Ministers; and I call upon you to acquit me fully of any charge of disloyalty.’
It had been proved to utter conviction in those barren years that ‘ten men armed can subdue one man in his shirt.’ One friend after another had fallen away from Lord Randolph. The hostility of the Prime Minister and the tireless machine-like detraction of the party press had not been without effect. His Parliamentary position was one of complete isolation and his popularity in the country had declined. Others—scarcely heard of in the days of battle—were now bearing the burden of the Unionist cause, and the public eye was fixed upon a stout-hearted bookseller whose perseverance as Leader was making of his repeated failures a curious but undoubted success, and upon an Irish Secretary whose reputation was every day enhanced by the taunts and revilings he provoked from his opponents. The Minister who seemed so powerful in 1886, the people’s favourite, the necessary Parliamentarian, the central link of the Unionist alliance, certainly its mostredoubtable champion, stood outside all political combinations, actual or potential. The Government of such a sickly infancy was grown up into a strong, if not a healthy manhood. The sunrise of wealth and extending comfort which in every nation lighted up the last quarter of the nineteenth century was strengthening by an unseen yet irresistible process the forces upon which Conservatism depends; and the millstone of Home Rule bowed and strangled the Liberals. There was neither need nor place for a leader of Tory Democracy.
All this was perfectly appreciated by Lord Randolph Churchill, and his detached contented mood and habit of thought were carefully and laboriously assumed and fortified by every trick of mental discipline he knew. A studied disdain of the course of public events, the influence of movement and of changing scenes, the delights of summer-lands, books, friends and mild Egyptian cigarettes—all were to him the incidents of an elaborate art. But the characters of valetudinarian, pleasure-seeker, traveller, sportsman, failed to satisfy, and served scarcely to distract. Always at hand, though forbidden his mind, lurked the hopes and the schemes, once so real, now turned to shadows: and the thought—never quite to be chased away—of that multitude of working people he knew so well, who had trusted him as their champion; who were still ready, if they knew how, to do him honour; but for whom—though their problems were still unsolved, uncared for, or cared for only as counters in the game ofpolitics—it was beyond his power to do the smallest service. And although the great river, gliding impassively along by the sands of the desert and the temples of forsaken faiths, might seem to smile at fretful aspirations, the reproach and disappointment silently consumed him.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Further and further afield! After the session of 1890 Lord Randolph Churchill abandoned the House of Commons. He attended seldom; he never spoke. In the summer of 1891 he sailed for South Africa in quest of sport and gold—and peace. A journey to Mashonaland was in those days an enterprise of some difficulty; nor, indeed, before the overthrow of the Matabele power, devoid of risk. Elaborate arrangements were required to conduct even a small party in comfort through these untrodden fields. The command of the miniature expedition was entrusted to Major Giles, a traveller well acquainted with the country. As killing game was a necessity as well as an amusement, one of the best hunters in South Africa, Hans Lee, was included in the party; and Mr. Perkins, a mining engineer of the highest eminence, was engaged to search for gold.
The interest with which Lord Randolph was regarded by the public had survived his popularity and all these preparations excited general curiosity and afforded fertile themes for comment and satire. He was persuaded to write a long series of letters for theDaily Graphicby the extraordinary offer of a hundred pounds for each letter. Every incident of hisjourney, even the most trivial, especially the most personal that could be discovered, was telegraphed to England by assiduous reporters and discussed with genial malice by the Conservative newspapers. He was burlesqued on the Gaiety stage with a wit so pointed that the song was stopped by the intervention of the Lord Chamberlain. While paragraphs, lampoons and caricatures exhibited him daily to the ridicule of his countrymen; while the delegates of the National Union hooted his name at their annual conference; and while the chiefs of the Tories complacently admired the fulness of their triumph, the ex-Minister plunged into vast solitudes. Across the veldt by bush and kloof and kopje, through the drifts of flooded rivers, by mining camps and frontier posts into magnificent wildernesses toiled the tiny caravan. A gust of bracing air and rough exertion breaks in upon the artificial ventilation of the House of Commons. The crowded benches, with the yellow light streaming down upon them from the ceiling, recede into the distance. Waggons creak and jolt along stony tracks, camp-fires twinkle in the waste, antelope gallop over spacious pastures, lions roar beneath the stars——
All this has been described by Lord Randolph Churchill himself in the book in which his published letters were finally compiled.[74]I will not tell a twice-told tale. It was not perhaps surprising that a relentless criticism should have denied to these productions all title to literary merit. Their commercialvalue consisted mainly in the personality of the writer; and that personality was the object of powerful and widespread prejudice. The extravagant price paid for them was an incitement to every sharp pen less generously rewarded. The letters themselves make no pretence to elegance. Here and there a touch of quaint humour, a caustic or jingling phrase, or a rhetorical passage—but for the most part they tell a plain story of sport and travel, as such stories have often been told before.
One extract shall suffice:—
We were riding along through a small open glade covered with high grass, Lee a few yards ahead of me, when I suddenly saw him turn round, cry out something to me, and point with his finger ahead. I looked, and saw lolloping along through and over the grass, about forty yards off, a yellow animal about as big as a small bullock. It flashed across me that it was a lion—the last thing in the world that I was thinking of. I was going to dismount and take aim, for I was not frightened at the idea of firing at a retreating lion; but Lee called out in succession five or six times, ‘Look, look!’ at the same time pointing with his finger in different directions in front. I saw to my astonishment, and rather to my dismay, that the glade appeared to be alive with lions. There they were, trooping and trotting along ahead of us like a lot of enormous dogs, great yellow objects, offering such a sight as I had never dreamed of. Lee turned to me and said, ‘What will you do?’ I said, ‘I suppose we must go after them,’ thinking all the time that I was making a very foolish answer. This I am the more convinced of now, for Lee told me afterwards that many old hunters in South Africa will turn away from such a troupe of lions as we had before us. We trotted on after them a short distance to where the grass was more open,the lions trotting along ahead of us in the most composed and leisurely fashion, very different from the galloping-off of a surprised and startled antelope. Lee now dismounted and fired at a lion about fifty yards off. I saw the brute fall forward on his head, twist round and round and stagger into a patch of high grass slightly to the left of where I was riding.I did not venture to dismount with such a lot of these brutes all around ahead of me, not feeling at all sure that I should be able to remount quickly enough and gallop away after shooting. My horse, untrained to the gun, would not allow me to fire from his back and would probably have thrown me off had I done so. I stuck close to Lee, determined to leave the shooting to him unless things became critical, as his aim was true. His nerves were steady, which was more than mine were, though I do not admit that I was at all frightened. I counted seven lions; Lee says there were more. I saw, and cried out to Lee, pointing to a great big fellow with a heavy black mane trotting along slightly ahead of the rest. He was just crossing a small spruit about one hundred yards ahead and as he climbed the opposite bank offered his hind quarters as a fair target. Lee fired at him, at which he quickened his pace and disappeared in front. We approached the spruit and, almost literally under my nose, I saw three lions tumble up out of it, climb the opposite side and disappear. Now I own I longed for my shooting pony Charlie, for they offered me splendid shots, quite close, such as I could hardly have missed. I raised my rifle to take aim at the last; but, perhaps fortunately for me, he disappeared, before I could fire, in the high grass on the other side. I saw Lee fire from his horse at one as it was climbing the bank, which he wounded badly. It retreated into a patch of thick grass the other side of the spruit, uttering sounds something between a growl, a grunt and a sob.
We were riding along through a small open glade covered with high grass, Lee a few yards ahead of me, when I suddenly saw him turn round, cry out something to me, and point with his finger ahead. I looked, and saw lolloping along through and over the grass, about forty yards off, a yellow animal about as big as a small bullock. It flashed across me that it was a lion—the last thing in the world that I was thinking of. I was going to dismount and take aim, for I was not frightened at the idea of firing at a retreating lion; but Lee called out in succession five or six times, ‘Look, look!’ at the same time pointing with his finger in different directions in front. I saw to my astonishment, and rather to my dismay, that the glade appeared to be alive with lions. There they were, trooping and trotting along ahead of us like a lot of enormous dogs, great yellow objects, offering such a sight as I had never dreamed of. Lee turned to me and said, ‘What will you do?’ I said, ‘I suppose we must go after them,’ thinking all the time that I was making a very foolish answer. This I am the more convinced of now, for Lee told me afterwards that many old hunters in South Africa will turn away from such a troupe of lions as we had before us. We trotted on after them a short distance to where the grass was more open,the lions trotting along ahead of us in the most composed and leisurely fashion, very different from the galloping-off of a surprised and startled antelope. Lee now dismounted and fired at a lion about fifty yards off. I saw the brute fall forward on his head, twist round and round and stagger into a patch of high grass slightly to the left of where I was riding.
I did not venture to dismount with such a lot of these brutes all around ahead of me, not feeling at all sure that I should be able to remount quickly enough and gallop away after shooting. My horse, untrained to the gun, would not allow me to fire from his back and would probably have thrown me off had I done so. I stuck close to Lee, determined to leave the shooting to him unless things became critical, as his aim was true. His nerves were steady, which was more than mine were, though I do not admit that I was at all frightened. I counted seven lions; Lee says there were more. I saw, and cried out to Lee, pointing to a great big fellow with a heavy black mane trotting along slightly ahead of the rest. He was just crossing a small spruit about one hundred yards ahead and as he climbed the opposite bank offered his hind quarters as a fair target. Lee fired at him, at which he quickened his pace and disappeared in front. We approached the spruit and, almost literally under my nose, I saw three lions tumble up out of it, climb the opposite side and disappear. Now I own I longed for my shooting pony Charlie, for they offered me splendid shots, quite close, such as I could hardly have missed. I raised my rifle to take aim at the last; but, perhaps fortunately for me, he disappeared, before I could fire, in the high grass on the other side. I saw Lee fire from his horse at one as it was climbing the bank, which he wounded badly. It retreated into a patch of thick grass the other side of the spruit, uttering sounds something between a growl, a grunt and a sob.
Mashonaland yielded no golden results to thepractised eye of Mr. Perkins; and it was not until the expedition had returned to Johannesburg that he unfolded his novel theory of deep levels. At this time the outcrop of the Great Banket reef was the only gold area which was being worked. Mr. Perkins observed the slant at which the strata emerged from the upper soil. He calculated accordingly. He advised the purchase of farms and properties along the south side of the ridge. By striking down directly into the earth the Great Banket reef would again be overtaken—richer perhaps than ever before. Lord Randolph Churchill must have stood at this time very close to an almost immeasurable fortune. Such a vital thought could not, however, remain secret—was already occurring to other minds. But the investments which he made were not inconsiderable or ill-judged, and were sold at his death for upwards of 70,000l.
While such business and adventure occupied his mind the leadership of the House of Commons fell vacant. Mr. Smith’s heavy task was at an end. For two sessions he had struggled against ever-increasing physical distresses. Hour after hour he had sat on his Bench with his rug across his knees—a pathetic and not unheroic figure. Night after night he had risen in his place to discharge in singularly bad speeches his duty—as he would have phrased it—to ‘Queen and country.’ Now he was gone, and Lord Salisbury made haste to appoint Mr. Balfour in his stead. His selection was almost universally applauded.
Lord Randolph Churchill to his Wife.Mafeking, November 23, 1891.So Arthur Balfour is really leader—and Tory Democracy, the genuine article, at an end! Well, I have had quite enough of it all. I have waited with great patience for the tide to turn, but it has not turned, and will not now turn in time. In truth, I am now altogetherdéconsidéré. I feel sure the other party will come in at the next election. The South Molton election is another among many indications. No power will make me lift hand or foot or voice for the Tories, just as no power would make me join the other side. All confirms me in my decision to have done with politics and try to make a little money for the boys and for ourselves. I hope you do not all intend to worry me on this matter and dispute with me and contradict me. More than two-thirds, in all probability, of my life is over, and I will not spend the remainder of my years in beating my head against a stone wall. I expect I have made great mistakes; but there has been no consideration, no indulgence, no memory or gratitude—nothing but spite, malice and abuse. I am quite tired and dead-sick of it all, and will not continue political life any longer. I have not Parnell’s dogged, but at the same time sinister, resolution; and have many things and many friends to make me happy, without that horrid House of Commons work and strife. After all, A. B. cannot beat my record; and it was I who got him first into the Government, and then into the Cabinet. This he and Lord S. know well.... It is so pleasant getting near home again. I have had a good time (out here), but now reproach myself for having left you all for so long, and am dying to be again at Connaught Place.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Lord Randolph Churchill to his Wife.
Mafeking, November 23, 1891.
So Arthur Balfour is really leader—and Tory Democracy, the genuine article, at an end! Well, I have had quite enough of it all. I have waited with great patience for the tide to turn, but it has not turned, and will not now turn in time. In truth, I am now altogetherdéconsidéré. I feel sure the other party will come in at the next election. The South Molton election is another among many indications. No power will make me lift hand or foot or voice for the Tories, just as no power would make me join the other side. All confirms me in my decision to have done with politics and try to make a little money for the boys and for ourselves. I hope you do not all intend to worry me on this matter and dispute with me and contradict me. More than two-thirds, in all probability, of my life is over, and I will not spend the remainder of my years in beating my head against a stone wall. I expect I have made great mistakes; but there has been no consideration, no indulgence, no memory or gratitude—nothing but spite, malice and abuse. I am quite tired and dead-sick of it all, and will not continue political life any longer. I have not Parnell’s dogged, but at the same time sinister, resolution; and have many things and many friends to make me happy, without that horrid House of Commons work and strife. After all, A. B. cannot beat my record; and it was I who got him first into the Government, and then into the Cabinet. This he and Lord S. know well.... It is so pleasant getting near home again. I have had a good time (out here), but now reproach myself for having left you all for so long, and am dying to be again at Connaught Place.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Though much is taken, much abides; and tho’We are not now that strength which in old daysMoved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;One equal temper of heroic hearts,Made weak by time and fate, but strong in willTo strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.Tennyson:Ulysses.
Though much is taken, much abides; and tho’We are not now that strength which in old daysMoved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;One equal temper of heroic hearts,Made weak by time and fate, but strong in willTo strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.Tennyson:Ulysses.
1892Æt.43
THEvariations of English politics are continual, and at times so swift that those who influence them and are in turn influenced by them are hardly conscious of the pace they are travelling. As the general situation alters, the relations of its principal characters insensibly change. The doubtful or indifferent acquaintance of one year is the trusted comrade of the next. Combinations impossible in January are inevitable in June. Mortal offences are forgotten, if they are not forgiven; and as the ship moves forward into newer waters only a fading streak of froth lingers on the surface of the sea.
Lord Randolph Churchill returned from South Africa early in 1892, to find, so far as he was concerned, a better temper and complexion in public affairs than at any time since his resignation. Thelife of the Government was ebbing away; the appeal to country could not be long delayed; and although the Parnell disclosures had immensely strengthened the Unionist position, there was little in the record or character of the Administration to excite popular enthusiasm. The drag of six years of office made its effect felt, and the Grand Old Man seemed still to enjoy the unconquerable splendour of his powers. That feeling of closing up the ranks, usually the prelude to a General Election, was abroad in the party; and its chiefs, though he did not at first realise it, looked in amity, not unmingled with anxiety, to the erstwhile leader of Tory Democracy, who had done such great things with the electors in the past and might, for all they knew, exert even a greater influence in the future. His reappearance in the House of Commons in the first days of February created a stir, which his silent and reserved demeanour did not speedily allay. Alike in the lobbies and the newspapers the question was debated, ‘What is he going to do?’ And it must be admitted that his answer to the resolution in which the South Paddington Conservative Association inquired whether he proposed to stand, and if so whether he would support the general policy of the Conservative party, did not altogether remove the uncertainty which existed.
‘I would be obliged to you,’ he wrote to the Secretary of the Association (February 4, 1892), ‘if you would inform the Committee that, as at present advised, it is my intention in the event of a dissolutionof Parliament to offer myself to the constituency for re-election and that in taking that course I should hope that I might rely upon the renewed support of the body which the Committee represent. It would further be my intention, in the event of my being re-elected as member of Parliament for the borough, to give to the Tory party the same support which I have given to it since the year 1874, when I first entered Parliament. Of the usefulness of that support it is not for me to judge; it is sufficient for me to say that my action in the future in the House of Commons would be in accordance, and consistent, with my action in the past.’
To FitzGibbon he wrote with greater plainness.
Penn House, Amersham: January 13, 1892.It was too pleasant to get a sight of your handwriting again. My travel through South Africa was as nice an experience as anyone could have, and though I am very glad to get back I really enjoyed every hour of my journey. I think I find H. M. G. in a very weak and tottering state; their feelings towards myself more bitter and hostile than ever. But I imagine that, willy nilly, they will have to shake off or subdue their prejudices, for great troubles are before them. My information is that a large, influential and to some extent independent section of Tories kick awfully against Irish Local Government and do not mean to vote for it. This comes from a very knowledgeable member of the Government outside the Cabinet. If the Government proceed with their project they will either split or seriously dishearten the party, and to do either on the verge of a General Election would be suicidal. This is what they ought to do: They ought to say this Irish Local Government is far too large a question to be dealt with by a moribundParliament; they ought to confess that there is not sufficient agreement among their supporters as to the nature and extent of such a measure, such as would favour the chances of successful legislation, and that they have determined to reserve the matter for a new Parliament, when the mind of the country upon their Irish administration has been fully ascertained. But I would not stop there. What is the great feature of the political situation in Ireland now? The resurrection in great force of priestly domination in political matters. Now I would cool the ardour of these potentates for Mr. G. by at once offering them the largest concessions on education—primary, intermediate, and University—which justice and generosity could admit of. I would not give them everything before the General Election, but I would give a good lot, and keep a good lot for the new Parliament. I do not think they could resist the bribe; and the soothing effect of such a policy on the Irish vote and attitude would be marked. Of course the concession would have to be very large—almost as large as what the Bishops have ever asked for—but preserving always intact Trinity College. It would assume the material shape of a money subsidy. What do you think of this? What is the frame of mind of the Bishops? What form and scope would you give to such a measure or measures as I suggest?H. M. G. have no imagination or originality. The keystone of their policy has been to play against the life of Mr. G. This (not very noble, but still human) policy should, once taken up, be pursued remorselessly. To carry on the policy, the life of the Parliament should be prolonged into ‘93. How to do this? Introduce a measure dealing largely with the registration laws.‘One man one vote’—a trifle—could be conceded; twelve months’ residence in lieu of eighteen established; paid officials for preparing register appointed in all constituencies. The new register could not be ready before the early spring of next year, and the convenient time for the election would be the summer or autumn. Now, my dear FitzGibbon,imagine the consternation, fury and utter paralysis of the Gladstonians if the Government were to make this completevolte-face—this tremendous surprise (all so logical and defensible as it is), the relief and joy of the Tories at getting rid of Local Government and at getting another year of life! Do not show this to anyone, unless it be to David Plunket, if he is with you—the Government are too fond of appropriating my ideas without acknowledgment—but write me all you think about it. I could write pages in support of it, but your own wily and Ulysses kind of mind will suggest to you all the wonderful elaboration of which it is susceptible.
Penn House, Amersham: January 13, 1892.
It was too pleasant to get a sight of your handwriting again. My travel through South Africa was as nice an experience as anyone could have, and though I am very glad to get back I really enjoyed every hour of my journey. I think I find H. M. G. in a very weak and tottering state; their feelings towards myself more bitter and hostile than ever. But I imagine that, willy nilly, they will have to shake off or subdue their prejudices, for great troubles are before them. My information is that a large, influential and to some extent independent section of Tories kick awfully against Irish Local Government and do not mean to vote for it. This comes from a very knowledgeable member of the Government outside the Cabinet. If the Government proceed with their project they will either split or seriously dishearten the party, and to do either on the verge of a General Election would be suicidal. This is what they ought to do: They ought to say this Irish Local Government is far too large a question to be dealt with by a moribundParliament; they ought to confess that there is not sufficient agreement among their supporters as to the nature and extent of such a measure, such as would favour the chances of successful legislation, and that they have determined to reserve the matter for a new Parliament, when the mind of the country upon their Irish administration has been fully ascertained. But I would not stop there. What is the great feature of the political situation in Ireland now? The resurrection in great force of priestly domination in political matters. Now I would cool the ardour of these potentates for Mr. G. by at once offering them the largest concessions on education—primary, intermediate, and University—which justice and generosity could admit of. I would not give them everything before the General Election, but I would give a good lot, and keep a good lot for the new Parliament. I do not think they could resist the bribe; and the soothing effect of such a policy on the Irish vote and attitude would be marked. Of course the concession would have to be very large—almost as large as what the Bishops have ever asked for—but preserving always intact Trinity College. It would assume the material shape of a money subsidy. What do you think of this? What is the frame of mind of the Bishops? What form and scope would you give to such a measure or measures as I suggest?
H. M. G. have no imagination or originality. The keystone of their policy has been to play against the life of Mr. G. This (not very noble, but still human) policy should, once taken up, be pursued remorselessly. To carry on the policy, the life of the Parliament should be prolonged into ‘93. How to do this? Introduce a measure dealing largely with the registration laws.
‘One man one vote’—a trifle—could be conceded; twelve months’ residence in lieu of eighteen established; paid officials for preparing register appointed in all constituencies. The new register could not be ready before the early spring of next year, and the convenient time for the election would be the summer or autumn. Now, my dear FitzGibbon,imagine the consternation, fury and utter paralysis of the Gladstonians if the Government were to make this completevolte-face—this tremendous surprise (all so logical and defensible as it is), the relief and joy of the Tories at getting rid of Local Government and at getting another year of life! Do not show this to anyone, unless it be to David Plunket, if he is with you—the Government are too fond of appropriating my ideas without acknowledgment—but write me all you think about it. I could write pages in support of it, but your own wily and Ulysses kind of mind will suggest to you all the wonderful elaboration of which it is susceptible.
And again in April:—
Politics attract me less and less and I successfully resist all invitations to take part in them, whether in Parliament or in the country. I really sincerely do not think that an offer of office would cause me the slightest emotion or drag me from my freedom and carelessness. However, that speculation is not likely to be put to the test. I have now a nice position—well with my constituents, well with my party—and am inclined to let well alone. I anticipate with amiable malice a Unionist defeat, and speculate on the nature of their struggles to resume power after that defeat. Balfour is doing very well, and has been much benefited by the senseless outcry raised against him by the Opposition.... Did you see my beautiful Latin letter to the [Trinity] College authorities, corrected and revised by Welldon of Harrow! It ought to have been published.
Politics attract me less and less and I successfully resist all invitations to take part in them, whether in Parliament or in the country. I really sincerely do not think that an offer of office would cause me the slightest emotion or drag me from my freedom and carelessness. However, that speculation is not likely to be put to the test. I have now a nice position—well with my constituents, well with my party—and am inclined to let well alone. I anticipate with amiable malice a Unionist defeat, and speculate on the nature of their struggles to resume power after that defeat. Balfour is doing very well, and has been much benefited by the senseless outcry raised against him by the Opposition.... Did you see my beautiful Latin letter to the [Trinity] College authorities, corrected and revised by Welldon of Harrow! It ought to have been published.
As the dissolution approached, overtures were made to him to contest several constituencies and he was pressed on all sides for his assistance. He declined everything. ‘It is not my intention,’ he wrote to one ardent Tory Democrat,[75]‘to make anypolitical speeches at the present time. Formerly I made many; but the labour was thankless and fruitless. Besides, I have not the smallest idea what the programme of our party now is.... From 1880 to 1886 I advocated on my own account a generally liberal and progressive policy, with the result that when I came into office I found that none of my colleagues were prepared to give to this policy the smallest genuine support; and that, office having been reached, promises to the people were to be forgotten or evaded. This experience I will never recommence; and it is for this reason that I decline, and must continue to decline, all invitations to take part in the platform exercises which precede the General Election.’ In Parliament he remained silent. He admired Mr. Balfour’s early essays in leading the House. ‘At last,’ he said, ‘the Tory party have got a leader whom they like.’ To one who told him that if he sat below the gangway he could soon overthrow the Government, he answered, ‘No, no; Arthur Balfour is too often nearly right.’
The only interventions in outside politics which he allowed himself were a speech on Metropolitan affairs during the London County Council election and a letter to Mr. Arnold White, the Liberal-Unionist candidate for Tyneside. This letter, however, outlines so boldly the scope and direction of his views that it deserves to be quoted.
He wrote:—
The Labour community is carrying on at the present day a very significant and instructive struggle. It hasemancipated itself very largely from the mere mechanism of party politics; it realises that it now possesses political power to such an extent as to make it independent of either party in the State; and the struggle which it is now carrying on is less against Capital, less one of wages or division of profits, but rather one for the practical utilisation in its own interest of the great political power which it has acquired. The Labour interest is now seeking to do itself what the landed interest and the manufacturing capitalist interest did for themselves when each in turn commanded the disposition of State policy. Our land laws were framed by the landed interest for the advantage of the landed interest, and foreign policy was directed by that interest to the same end. Political power passed very considerably from the landed interest to the manufacturing capitalist interest, and our whole fiscal system was shaped by this latter power to its own advantage, foreign policy being also made to coincide. We are now come, or are coming fast, to a time when Labour laws will be made by the Labour interest for the advantage of Labour. The regulation of all the conditions of labour by the State, controlled and guided by the Labour vote, appears to be the ideal aimed at; and I think it extremely probable that a foreign policy which sought to extend by tariff over our Colonies and even over other friendly States, the area of profitable barter of produce will strongly commend itself to the mind of the Labour interest. Personally I can discern no cause for alarm in this prospect and I believe that on this point you and I are in perfect agreement. Labour in this modern movement has against it the prejudices of property, the resources of capital, and all the numerous forces—social, professional, and journalist—which those prejudices and resources can influence. It is our business as Tory politicians to uphold the Constitution. If under the Constitution as it now exists, and as we wish to see it preserved, the Labour interest finds that it can obtain its objects and secure its own advantage, then that interest will be reconciled to the Constitution, willfind faith in it and will maintain it. But if it should unfortunately occur that the Constitutional party, to which you and I belong, are deaf to hear and slow to meet the demands of Labour, are stubborn in opposition to those demands and are persistent in the habit of ranging themselves in unreasoning and short-sighted support of all the present rights of property and capital, the result may be that the Labour interest may identify what it will take to be defects in the Constitutional party with the Constitution itself, and in a moment of indiscriminate impulse may use its power to sweep both away. This view of affairs, I submit, is worthy of attention at a time when it is a matter of life or death to the Constitutional party to enlist in the support of the Parliamentary Union of the United Kingdom a majority of the votes of the masses of Labour.You tell me that you find the designation ‘Tory’ a great difficulty to you. I cannot see any good reason for this. After all, since the Revolution the designation ‘Tory’ has always possessed an essentially popular flavour, in contradistinction to the designation ‘Whig.’ It has not only a popular but a grand historical origin; it denotes great historical struggles, in many of which the Tory party have been found on the popular side. Lord Beaconsfield—who, if he was anything, was a man of the people and understood the popular significance of names and words—invariably made use of the word ‘Tory’ to characterise his party; and whatever the Tory party may be deemed to be at particular moments, I have always held, from the commencement of my political life, that, rightly understood and explained, it ought to be, and was intended to be, the party of broad ideas and of a truly liberal policy.
The Labour community is carrying on at the present day a very significant and instructive struggle. It hasemancipated itself very largely from the mere mechanism of party politics; it realises that it now possesses political power to such an extent as to make it independent of either party in the State; and the struggle which it is now carrying on is less against Capital, less one of wages or division of profits, but rather one for the practical utilisation in its own interest of the great political power which it has acquired. The Labour interest is now seeking to do itself what the landed interest and the manufacturing capitalist interest did for themselves when each in turn commanded the disposition of State policy. Our land laws were framed by the landed interest for the advantage of the landed interest, and foreign policy was directed by that interest to the same end. Political power passed very considerably from the landed interest to the manufacturing capitalist interest, and our whole fiscal system was shaped by this latter power to its own advantage, foreign policy being also made to coincide. We are now come, or are coming fast, to a time when Labour laws will be made by the Labour interest for the advantage of Labour. The regulation of all the conditions of labour by the State, controlled and guided by the Labour vote, appears to be the ideal aimed at; and I think it extremely probable that a foreign policy which sought to extend by tariff over our Colonies and even over other friendly States, the area of profitable barter of produce will strongly commend itself to the mind of the Labour interest. Personally I can discern no cause for alarm in this prospect and I believe that on this point you and I are in perfect agreement. Labour in this modern movement has against it the prejudices of property, the resources of capital, and all the numerous forces—social, professional, and journalist—which those prejudices and resources can influence. It is our business as Tory politicians to uphold the Constitution. If under the Constitution as it now exists, and as we wish to see it preserved, the Labour interest finds that it can obtain its objects and secure its own advantage, then that interest will be reconciled to the Constitution, willfind faith in it and will maintain it. But if it should unfortunately occur that the Constitutional party, to which you and I belong, are deaf to hear and slow to meet the demands of Labour, are stubborn in opposition to those demands and are persistent in the habit of ranging themselves in unreasoning and short-sighted support of all the present rights of property and capital, the result may be that the Labour interest may identify what it will take to be defects in the Constitutional party with the Constitution itself, and in a moment of indiscriminate impulse may use its power to sweep both away. This view of affairs, I submit, is worthy of attention at a time when it is a matter of life or death to the Constitutional party to enlist in the support of the Parliamentary Union of the United Kingdom a majority of the votes of the masses of Labour.
You tell me that you find the designation ‘Tory’ a great difficulty to you. I cannot see any good reason for this. After all, since the Revolution the designation ‘Tory’ has always possessed an essentially popular flavour, in contradistinction to the designation ‘Whig.’ It has not only a popular but a grand historical origin; it denotes great historical struggles, in many of which the Tory party have been found on the popular side. Lord Beaconsfield—who, if he was anything, was a man of the people and understood the popular significance of names and words—invariably made use of the word ‘Tory’ to characterise his party; and whatever the Tory party may be deemed to be at particular moments, I have always held, from the commencement of my political life, that, rightly understood and explained, it ought to be, and was intended to be, the party of broad ideas and of a truly liberal policy.
His interest in Labour questions was, indeed, growing steadily. When the Eight Hours Bill for Miners was discussed that year in the Commons, he addressed a long private letter to Mr. Balfour praying for its considerate treatment. ‘I humblyadvise, but pressingly; in the debate let Gorst have a little Labour fling. Keep your hand tight over Matthews and, if you can see your way to it, make one of those interesting and amicable speeches which you can do so well, not exactly saying that your mind is open, but, to use a Gladstonianism, that it is not altogether absolutely closed. You can realise,’ he added quaintly, ‘how much importance I attach to the question when I tell you that I am actually coming up from Lincoln and missing three important races in which our horses run, to vote for the Bill. I do not think I would do this for the Monarchy, the Church, the House of Lords or the Union.’
The General Election came at that period, July, dear to the hearts of Tory organisers, when democracy is supposed to be under the soothing influence of summer weather, and before villadom has departed on its holidays. Lord Randolph took little part in it. He stood for South Paddington as a Conservative and an opponent of Home Rule. He let it be understood that if he was not interfered with by the Liberal party he would not speak outside the limits of his own constituency. This bargain seeming sufficiently good, in view of the fact that the seat was impregnable, no opposition was offered him. The only speech he found it necessary to make, and his election address, dealt almost entirely with the maintenance of the Union, though the latter also contained the following paragraph:—
‘My views as to the reforms in the public service which public safety and economy alike urgently callfor, are, I think, well known to you; they have undergone no change, save that I hold them more strongly than ever. You are also, I imagine, not unaware of my desire to meet with all legitimate sympathy and good-will the newly-formed but very articulate and well-defined demands of the labouring classes.’
To FitzGibbon he wrote:—