'On April 9th I left for France for Easter, and had long and pleasant breakfasts at the Palais Bourbon with Gambetta, varied by a grand dinner on April 16th, at which I met many of those who afterwards held office—Ferry, afterwards Prime Minister; Rouvier, afterwards Prime Minister; Spuller, afterwards Minister for Foreign Affairs; Constans, afterwards Minister of the Interior; and Freycinet, afterwards Prime Minister—all of them dull men enough. Spuller, a kindly and pleasant dull man; Constans, a red-faced Burgundy drinker; Freycinet, a little white intriguer—on the whole a sorry crew, Gambetta towering above them in ability, in joviality, and even in reading.'
In a scrap of an old letter, dated Wednesday, April 16th, Sir Charles says:
"I've spent nearly all my time with Gambetta. He said that he thinks
Sella 'le premier homme politique de l'Italie, mais enragé
protectionniste.' He says he told him that if he were not so violent a
Protectionist he would be 'l'homme absolument nécessaire.'"
On this follows later the observation:
'If Gambetta was anything, he was anti-Russian and a Free Trader, and his friends, professing to continue his work, became, after about 1887, rabid Russians and fierce Protectionists.'
He speaks of Gambetta's 'contempt for Sella because Sella was a
Protectionist,' and adds: 'I suppose Gambetta would have become one
had he lived.'
While Dilke was in Paris he received a letter from Chamberlain referring to a motion about 'the interference of the Crown in politics,' of which Mr. Dillwyn had given notice. Mr. Chamberlain thought the subject "certainly a popular one, but very difficult to treat in the House of Commons."
'Dillwyn's motion was obviously what people would call "interesting," but obviously also highly dangerous, as it was really impossible to prove the case. The Queen does interfere constantly; more, however, when Liberal Ministers are in power than when she has a Conservative Cabinet, because the Conservatives on the whole do what she likes, as she is a Conservative; whereas the Liberals are continually doing, and indeed exist for the purpose of doing, the things she does not like. But it is very doubtful how far her interference is unconstitutional, and it would be quite impossible to prove it, unless Mr. Gladstone, for example, were to publish her letters—a not very likely supposition. The Queen is a woman of great ability…. She writes to the Prime Minister about everything she does not like, which, when he is a Liberal, means almost everything that he says or does. She complains of his colleagues' speeches. She complains, with less violence, of his own. She protests against Bills. She insists that administrative acts should not be done without delay, for the purpose of consulting with regard to them persons whose opinions she knows will be unfavourable. But if the Minister acts as she directs, he, and not she, becomes responsible; and he may be impeached, for example, for so doing. And… her action, to my mind, is, strictly speaking, constitutional. Even in the House of Commons, and in a speech taking a rough popular view of the Constitution, it would be difficult to maintain that with her immense experience the Queen is not justified in asking for time in order that men of distinction should be consulted upon various acts; and anything beyond this would be mere matter of inference, not proving the case even if the facts were known, which of course they are not. Our poor Dillwyn on this occasion, prompted by Trevelyan, walked into a hornets' nest; and, as he did it without consulting his two leaders, his leaders were not bound to follow him.'
'On March 21st I dined with Sir Baliol and Lady Bret, meeting the German Ambassador (Count Münster) and his daughter, and Lord and Lady Derby. She was not at all bitter about Lord Beaconsfield, although very bitter about the Court; and after dinner Lord Derby said that the Queen was now carrying on a confidential correspondence with every quarter of the globe, so that he was evidently bitter too….
'On April 22nd I received from Auberon Herbert a letter: "Things look well. The gilding is much tarnished, and shows the brass underneath. You have done right well. Many thanks for your letter. I went to Leeds—on the chance but I suspect I am best out of the House. I can do more to make people believe in themselves, and not in our Moslem idea of government—perhaps—outside the House than in it. You do agree in the fearfully paralyzing effect of belief in Government, don't you?" The last words reveal the growth in Auberon Herbert of anarchic views, which shortly afterwards turned him for all practical purposes from a Radical into a Tory, or, rather, turned him back to the point from which he had started, for as a Tory private secretary to a Tory Cabinet Minister he had begun political life at the time when he drew up the plan for the action of the troops against the mob on the day of the Hyde Park railings being torn down—a plan so drastic that the Home Secretary, Walpole, refused to move.