“The speaker in his remarks on the previous toast implied that it was a good sign of a mother to have a good son. But he thought there was another relationship in life in which there was a good deal of sympathy. They would always find where they had a good sort of fellow—they might depend upon it—he had a good wife. At all events, he pitied the man with any interest in public events or any public duty to discharge who, when he goes home, finds a wife who knows nothing and cares nothing about it. That, he was glad to say, was not his case. He had a wife who was a keen politician; like most women, she was a keen partisan and had a very great appreciation of all who supported her husband, and, he was afraid, she was not without resentment against those who did not. He need hardly say that his wife shared the anxiety of these days and also the buoyancy of spirits and the elasticity of feeling which enabled them to survive the disappointment.”

Sarony

LADY CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN

Mr. Campbell, as he then was, made the speech from which these remarks are quoted in 1868. As a summary of his wife’s character they remained applicable all her life, except perhaps when the “buoyancy of spirits” flagged owing to her long and painful illness. The “keen politician” and “keen partisan” she remained to the end.

Sarah, Lady Campbell-Bannerman, was born Sarah Charlotte Bruce, daughter of Sir Charles Bruce, a well-known officer in his day. Throughout her life her attitude of mind partook of an almost military staunchness and simplicity. For her no trumpet gave forth an uncertain sound. It was either a command from allies or a challenge from the enemy. She was married in 1860, and at the time it was said, I do not know with what truth, that of the two the young bride was the more extreme in her political views. One of the first people to appreciate her qualities of mind and character was her father-in-law. He was diametrically opposed to her in politics, but he showed his appreciation of her qualities in a very practical manner, by a substantial increase in the provision he made for the young couple over and beyond the sum named in their original settlements.

Mr. and Mrs. Henry Campbell spent much of the early years of their marriage in foreign travel, for which they both had a great fondness. Continental journeys at that date were more adventurous than in the days of Messrs. Cook and Sir Henry Lunn, and the young couple had plenty of petty misfortunes and discomforts to laugh over in later days. France was their special favourite; they shared a great admiration for French art and French culture, and, it may be added, for French cooking.

In 1868 Mr. Campbell entered politics, fighting two elections in the same year for the same constituency, Stirling Burghs—the first unsuccessful, the second triumphant. Stirling Burghs remained his constituency throughout his life. The new member’s career followed the fortunes of his party. It is curious to consider, in the light of his attitude on the South African War, how much of his official life was spent at the War Office, where he was very much liked. He was Financial Secretary to that Department in 1871, and again in 1880. In 1892 he returned there as Secretary of State to tackle an extremely delicate and awkward affair, the retirement of the Duke of Cambridge from the position of Commander-in-Chief. The appointment was for five years only, but the Duke had treated it as an appointment for life, and had filled it for more than thirty years. Had he been a great soldier it would have mattered less, but in his prime he was no more than a hard-working and conscientious one, and now in his old age an immovable obstacle to a thousand necessary reforms. His experience dated from the time when promotion was entirely by purchase or by favour; he regarded any system of promotion by merit as a direct infringement of his privileges, both official and royal, with the result that the Staff College was deliberately shunned by ambitious officers, because it was known that “the Duke” would never promote any one who had been there. A more serious matter was the truncation and arrest of promotion right through the military hierarchy. “The worst thing the Duke did by the Army was to rob it of Wolseley’s best years,” was the comment of one who knew both men. A cartoon in Punch expressed this very aptly. It showed a slim, alert Lord Wolseley observing, “I have to relinquish my command in September.” To whom a coughing, lame, and corpulent Duke of Cambridge replied, “Dear me! I haven’t.” It was obvious he ought to retire, but he was Royal, a near relation to the Sovereign, a popular public figure, and quite unconscious of his own shortcomings, so it was difficult to bring about. But the quiet young Scotchman brought it about, and that in a manner which safeguarded the old gentleman’s public dignity, whatever may have been his private feelings. The Duke was succeeded by Lord Wolseley, greatly to the public satisfaction. The whole incident served to consolidate the reputation Mr. Campbell-Bannerman had made during a short bout of the intractable duties of Chief Secretary for Ireland, and on the advice of Lord Rosebery, then Prime Minister, the achievement was acknowledged by the bestowal of the Grand Cross of the Bath.

Lady Campbell-Bannerman[80] was a soldier’s daughter and took great interest in all military affairs. Circumstances combined to make the marriage a particularly close and affectionate relation. Sir Henry and his wife were childless; she was an only child, and he a member of a small family. All this tended to make them concentrate their affection upon each other and ask very little of outsiders, and when the long illness began of which Lady Campbell-Bannerman died, her husband’s daily and hourly devotion was touching to see. He relied implicitly on her judgment, having, as he said, so often found it reliable and shrewd. It was well for both that their mutual confidence was so close, for during and after the South African War a storm of abuse and unpopularity raged round Sir Henry, who was opposed both to the war itself and the manner in which it was conducted. No unpopularity, however, caused him to swerve in any degree, and it was often thought that his wife had a great deal to say in the maintenance of his uncompromising course. Certain it is that she shared his convictions to the full. In both they were founded in the deepest and most abiding sentiments.

They shared also the same taste in friends, with something like an oblivion of social standing and a great intolerance for pretension or pose or insincerity, more marked perhaps in the wife than in the husband. Lady Campbell-Bannerman was very proud of a strain of Dutch in her descent, but her every trait showed the influence of generations of severe Scotch ancestors.