Chapter XIII. Last Days Of The Ministry. (1873)
ὤσπερ ἂν εἴ τις ναύκληρον πάντ᾽ ἐπὶ σωτηρίᾳ πράξαντα, καὶ κατασκευάσαντα τὸ πλοῖον ἀφ᾽ ὧν ὑπελάμβανε σωθήσεσθαι, εἶτα χειμῶνι χρησάμενον καὶ πονησάντων αὐτῷ τῶν σκευῶν ἤ καὶ συντριβέτων ὅλως, τῆς ναυαγίας αἰτιῷτο.—Demosthenes.
As if, when a shipmaster had done all he could for safety, and fitted his vessel with everything to make her weathertight, then when he meets a storm and all his tackle strains and labours until it is torn to pieces, we should blame him for the wreck.
I
The shock of defeat, resignation, and restoration had no effect in lessening ministerial difficulties. The months that followed make an unedifying close to five glorious years of progress and reform. With plenty of differences they recall the sunless days in which the second administration of the younger Pitt ended that lofty career of genius and dominion. The party was divided, and some among its leaders were centres of petty disturbance. In a scrap dated at this period Mr. Gladstone wrote: “Divisions in the liberal party are to be seriously apprehended from a factious spirit on questions of economy, on questions of education in relation to religion, on further parliamentary change, on the land laws. On these questions generally my sympathies are with what may be termed the advanced party, whom on other and general grounds I certainly will never head nor lead.”
The quarrel between the government and the nonconformists was not mitigated by a speech of Mr. Gladstone's against a motion for the disestablishment of the church. It was described by Speaker Brand as “firm and good,” but the dissenters, with all their kindness for the prime minister, [pg 458] thought it firm and bad.[289] To Dr. Allon, one of the most respected of their leaders, Mr. Gladstone wrote (July 5):—
The spirit of frankness in which you write is ever acceptable to me. I fear there may be much in your sombre anticipations. But if there is to be a great schism in the liberal party, I hope I shall never find it my duty to conduct the operations either of the one or of the other section. The nonconformists have shown me great kindness and indulgence; they have hitherto interpreted my acts and words in the most favourable sense; and if the time has come when my acts and words pass beyond the measure of their patience, I contemplate with repugnance, at my time of life especially, the idea of entering into conflict with them. A political severance, somewhat resembling in this a change in religion, should at most occur not more than once in life. At the same time I must observe that no one has yet to my knowledge pointed out the expressions or arguments in the speech, that can justly give offence.
A few personal jottings will be found of interest:—
April 7, 1873.—H. of C. The budget and its reception mark a real onward step in the session. 23.—Breakfast with Mr. C. Field to meet Mr. Emerson. 30.—I went to see the remains of my dear friend James Hope. Many sad memories but more joyful hopes. May 15.—The King and Queen of the Belgians came to breakfast at ten. A party of twenty. They were most kind, and all went well.
To the Queen (May 19).—Mr. Gladstone had an interview yesterday at Chiselhurst with the Empress. He thought her Majesty much thinner and more worn than last year, but she showed no want of energy in conversation. Her Majesty felt much interest, and a little anxiety, about the coming examination of the prince her son at Woolwich.
June 8.—Chapel royal at noon. It was touching to see Dean [pg 459] Hook and hear him, now old in years and very old I fear in life; but he kindled gallantly. 17.—Had a long conversation with Mr. Holloway (of the pills) on his philanthropic plans; which are of great interest. 25.—Audience of the Shah with Lord Granville and the Duke of Argyll. Came away after 1-1/4 hours. He displayed abundant acuteness. His gesticulation particularly expressive. 26.—Sixteen to breakfast. Mme. Norman Neruda played for us. She is also most pleasing in manner and character. Went to Windsor afterwards. Had an audience. July 1.—H. of C. Received the Shah soon after six. A division on a trifling matter of adjournment took place during his Majesty's presence, in which he manifested an intelligent interest. The circumstance of his presence at the time is singular in this view (and of this he was informed, rather to his amusement) that until the division was over he could not be released from the walls of the House. It is probably, or possibly, the first time for more than five hundred years that a foreign sovereign has been under personal restraint of any kind in England. [Query, Mary Queen of Scots.]
Death Of Bishop Wilberforce
Then we come upon an entry that records one of the deepest griefs of this stage of Mr. Gladstone's life—the sudden death of Bishop Wilberforce:—
July 19.—Off at 4.25 to Holmbury.[290] We were enjoying that beautiful spot and expecting Granville with the Bishop of Winchester, when the groom arrived with the message that the Bishop had had a bad fall. An hour and a half later Granville entered, pale and sad: “It's all over.” In an instant the thread of that very precious life was snapped. We were all in deep and silent grief. 20.—Woke with a sad sense of a great void in the world. 21.—Drove in the morning with Lord Granville to Abinger Hall. Saw him, for the last time in the flesh, resting from his labours. Attended the inquest; inspected the spot; all this cannot be forgotten. 23.—Gave way under great heat, hard work, and perhaps depression of force. Kept my bed all day.
“Of the special opinions of this great prelate,” he wrote to the Queen, “Mr. Gladstone may not be an impartial judge, [pg 460] but he believes there can be no doubt that there does not live the man in any of the three kingdoms of your Majesty who has, by his own indefatigable and unmeasured labours, given such a powerful impulse as the Bishop of Winchester gave to the religious life of the country.” When he mentioned that the bishop's family declined the proposal of Westminster Abbey for his last resting place, the Queen replied that she was very glad, for “to her nothing more gloomy and doleful exists.”
“Few men,” Mr. Gladstone wrote later in this very year, “have had a more varied experience of personal friendships than myself. Among the large numbers of estimable and remarkable people whom I have known, and who have now passed away, there is in my memory an inner circle, and within it are the forms of those who were marked off from the comparative crowd even of the estimable and remarkable, by the peculiarity and privilege of their type.”[291] In this inner circle the bishop must have held a place, not merely by habit of life, which accounts for so many friendships in the world, but by fellowship in their deepest interests, by common ideals in church and state, by common sympathy in their arduous aim to reconcile greetings in the market-place and occupation of high seats, with the spiritual glow of the soul within its own sanctuary.
Ministerial Embarrassments
While still grieving over this painful loss, Mr. Gladstone suddenly found himself in a cauldron of ministerial embarrassments. An inquiry into certain irregularities at the general post office led to the discovery that the sum of eight hundred thousand pounds had been detained on its way to the exchequer, and applied to the service of the telegraphs. The persons concerned in the gross and inexcused irregularities were Mr. Monsell, Mr. Ayrton, and the chancellor of the exchequer. “There probably have been times,” Mr. Gladstone wrote to the Queen (Aug. 7), “when the three gentlemen who in their several positions have been chiefly to blame would have been summarily dismissed from your Majesty's service. But on none of them could any ill-intent be charged; two of them had, among whatever errors of judgment, [pg 461] done much and marked good service to the state.” Under the circumstances he could not resort to so severe a course without injustice and harshness. “The recent exposures,” Mr. Gladstone wrote to Lord Russell, “have been gall and wormwood to me from day to day.” “Ever since the failure of the Irish University bill,” he said, “the government has been in a condition in which, to say the least, it has had no strength to spare, and has stood in need of all the strength it could derive from internal harmony and vigorous administration.” The post office scandal exposed to the broad light of day that neither harmony nor vigour existed or could be counted on. It was evident that neither the postmaster nor the chancellor of the exchequer could remain where they were. In submitting new arrangements to the Queen, Mr. Gladstone said that he would gladly have spared her the irksome duty of considering them, had it been “in his power either on the one side to leave unnoticed the scandals that have occurred, or on the other to have tendered a general resignation, or to have advised a dissolution of parliament.” The hot weather and the lateness of the session made the House of Commons disinclined for serious conflict; still at the end of July various proceedings upon the scandals took place, which. Mr. Gladstone described to the Queen as of “a truly mortifying character.” Mr. Ayrton advanced doctrines of ministerial responsibility that could not for a moment be maintained, and Mr. Gladstone felt himself bound on the instant to disavow them.[292]
Sir Robert Phillimore gives a glimpse of him in these evil days:—
July 24.—Gladstone dined here hastily; very unwell, and much worn. He talked about little else than Bishop Wilberforce's funeral and the ecclesiastical appeals in the Judicature bill. 29th.—Saw Gladstone, better but pale. Said the government deserved a vote of censure on Monsell and Lowe's account. Monsell ought to resign; but Lowe, he said, ought for past [pg 462] services to be defended. 30th..—Dined at Gladstone's. Radical M.P.'s ... agreed that government was tottering, and that Gladstone did everything. Gladstone walks with a stick. Aug. 7.—An interview with Gladstone. He was communicative. A great reform of his government has become necessary. The treasury to be swept out. He looked much better.
Nothing at any time was so painful, almost intolerably painful, to Mr. Gladstone as personal questions, and cabinet reconstruction is made up of personal questions of the most trying and invidious kind. “I have had a fearful week,” he wrote to the Duke of Argyll (Aug. 8), “but have come through. A few behave oddly, most perfectly well, some incomparably well; of these last I must name honoris causâ, Bright, Bruce, and F. Cavendish.” To Mr. Bright he had written when the crisis first grew acute:—
Aug. 2.—You have seen the reports, without doubt, of what has been going on. You can hardly conceive the reality. I apprehend that the House of Commons by its abstinence and forbearance, must be understood to have given us breathing time and space to consider what can be done to renovate the government in something like harmony and something like dignity. This will depend greatly upon men and partly upon measures. Changes in men there must be, and some without delay. A lingering and discreditable death, after the life we have lived, is not an ending to which we ought to submit without effort; and as an essential part of the best effort that can be made, I am most desirous to communicate with you here. I rely on your kindness to come up. Here only can I show you the state of affairs, which is most dangerous, and yet not unhopeful.
From the diary:—
Aug. 1.—Saw Lord F. Cavendish, also Lord Granville, Lord Wolverton, Mr. Cardwell, repeatedly on the crisis. 2.—An anxious day. The first step was taken, Cardwell broke to Lowe the necessity of his changing his office. Also I spoke to Forster and Fortescue. 4.—A very anxious day of constant conversation and reflection, ending with an evening conclave. 5.—My day began with Dr. Clark. Rose at eleven.... Wrote.... Most of [pg 463] these carried much powder and shot. Some were Jack Ketch and Calcraft [the public executioner] letters. 6.—Incessant interviews.... Much anxiety respecting the Queen's delay in replying. Saw Lord Wolverton late with her reply. 9.—To Osborne. A long and satisfactory audience of H.M. Attended the council, and received a third time the seals of my old office.
This resumption of the seals of the exchequer, which could no longer be left with Mr. Lowe, was forced upon Mr. Gladstone by his colleagues. From a fragmentary note, he seems to have thought of Mr. Goschen for the vacant post, “but deferring to the wishes of others,” he says, “I reluctantly consented to become chancellor of the exchequer.” The latest instance of a combination of this office with that of first lord of the treasury were Canning in 1827, and Peel in 1884-5.[293]
The correspondence on this mass of distractions is formidable, but, luckily for us it is now mere burnt-out cinder. The two protagonists of discord had been Mr. Lowe and Mr. Ayrton, and we may as well leave them with a few sentences of Mr. Gladstone upon the one, and to the other:—
Mr. Ayrton, he says, has caused Mr. Gladstone so much care and labour on many occasions, that if he had the same task to encounter in the case of a few other members of the cabinet, his office would become intolerable. But before a public servant of this class can properly be dismissed, there must be not only a [pg 464] sufficient case against him, but a case of which the sufficiency can be made intelligible and palpable to the world. Some of his faults are very serious, yet he is as towards the nation an upright, assiduous, and able functionary.
To Mr. Lowe, who had become home secretary, he writes (Aug. 13):—
I do not know whether the word “timid” was the right one for L——, but, at any rate, I will give you proof that I am not “timid”; though a coward in many respects I may be. I always hold that politicians are the men whom, as a rule, it is most difficult to comprehend, i.e. understand completely; and for my own part, I never have thus understood, or thought I understood, above one or two, though here and there I may get hold of an isolated idea about others. Such an idea comes to me about you. I think the clearness, power, and promptitude of your intellect are in one respect a difficulty and a danger to you. You see everything in a burning, almost a scorching light. The case reminds me of an incident some years back. Sir D. Brewster asked me to sit for my photograph in a black frost and a half mist in Edinburgh. I objected about the light. He said, This is the best light; it is all diffused, not concentrated. Is not your light too much concentrated? Does not its intensity darken the surroundings? By the surroundings, I mean the relations of the thing not only to other things but to persons, as our profession obliges us constantly to deal with persons. In every question flesh and blood are strong and real even if extraneous elements, and we cannot safely omit them from our thoughts.
Now, after all this impudence, let me try and do you a little more justice. You have held for a long time the most important office of the state. No man can do his duty in that office and be popular while he holds it. I could easily name the two worst chancellors of the exchequer of the last forty years; against neither of them did I ever hear a word while they were in (I might almost add, nor for them after they were out). “Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you.” You have fought for the public, tooth and nail. You have been under a storm of unpopularity; but not a fiercer one than I had to stand in 1860, when hardly any one [pg 465] dared to say a word for me; but certainly it was one of my best years of service, even though bad be the best. Of course, I do not say that this necessity of being unpopular should induce us to raise our unpopularity to the highest point. No doubt, both in policy and in Christian charity, it should make us very studious to mitigate and abate the causes as much as we can. This is easier for you than it was for me, as your temper is good, and mine not good.
While I am fault-finding, let me do a little more, and take another scrap of paper for the purpose. (I took only a scrap before, as I was determined, then, not to “afflict you above measure.”) I note, then, two things about you. Outstripping others in the race, you reach the goal or conclusion before them; and, being there, you assume that they are there also. This is unpopular. You are unpopular this very day with a poor wretch, whom you have apprised that he has lost his seat, and you have not told him how. Again, and lastly, I think you do not get up all things, but allow yourself a choice, as if politics were a flower-garden and we might choose among the beds; as Lord Palmerston did, who read foreign office and war papers, and let the others rust and rot. This, I think, is partially true, I do not say of your reading, but of your mental processes. You will, I am sure, forgive the levity and officiousness of this letter for the sake of its intention and will believe me always and sincerely yours.
Then at last he escaped from Downing Street to Hawarden:—
Aug. 11.—Off at 8.50 with a more buoyant spirit and greater sense of relief than I have experienced for many years on this, the only pleasant act of moving to me in the circuit of the year. This gush is in proportion to the measure of the late troubles and anxieties.