Lord Rosebery’s Government had been defeated a few days previously on the cordite vote, Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman having been Secretary of State for War. Of course there was great excitement. Mr. St. John Brodrick spent the next Sunday with us, and was summoned to London by Lord Salisbury early on the Monday morning, when he was offered, and accepted, the post of Under-Secretary of State for War.
MR. CHAMBERLAIN, COLONIAL SECRETARY
There was a prevalent idea that Mr. Chamberlain would become Secretary of State for War, but I felt sure that he would obtain the Colonies, knowing what a deep interest he took in the Overseas Empire. We had once had a long conversation about it at a dinner at Greenwich. When the appointment was made I wrote to congratulate him, and he said in his reply, “I hope I may be able to do something to promote the closer union of our Empire”—a hope amply fulfilled.
I have many recollections of Mr. Chamberlain at Osterley. He was a charming guest, always ready to take his share in any amusement or discussion. It was comical to see him on one occasion making his way in a sort of trot down the Gallery with a serious expression on his face, and his arm extended at full length holding a poker towards him, which the game somehow entailed his keeping clear of his nose.
He loved to sit on the platform on the top of the double flight of steps leading to the garden after dinner on hot nights, smoking and talking. I remember that he told us a good ghost story, but am sorry that I forget the details. The last time I saw him before his sad illness I sat next to him at dinner at his own house. He had then taken up Protection (which I always wished he had called “Preference”). I said to him: “You know, Mr. Chamberlain, I am a Free Trader?”
“Yes,” he said, “I know, but you will give an old friend credit for being honest.”
“Certainly,” I replied, and I said that truthfully with my whole heart.
In later years we were neighbours at Cannes, as we had the Villa Luynes for four seasons, not far from the Villa Victoria where he took up his winter abode. Everyone bore witness to Mrs. Chamberlain’s devotion, and it was splendid to see how she encouraged him, and helped him to retain his interest in the outer world in which he could no longer play an active part.
Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897 was marked by even greater enthusiasm than the celebrations of 1887. Ten years of that life of devotion to her Empire had drawn ever closer the links between her and her people. They had shared with her yet more sorrows and yet more joys, especially the death of the Duke of Clarence, the marriage of our present King, and the births of our Prince of Wales and the Duke of York.
I think the Prince of Wales began his inroad into the hearts of the populace on this occasion. When the Queen returned from her triumphal procession to St. Paul’s the two little Princes were taken out on to a balcony to see and be seen by the throng below. The infant Prince Albert danced in his nurse’s arms, but Prince Edward, or, as he was always called, Prince David, solemnly and correctly saluted in return for the ringing cheers with which he was greeted. An eye-witness recounted at the time that still the spectators cheered, and again and again the boy saluted, till at length as they would not stop he evidently felt that something more was required, and saluted with both hands.