Lord Randolph Churchill

by Winston Churchill

The dangerous character of this manœuvre, not less than its extreme ingenuity, was patent to the Unionist leaders. The Whigs were embarrassed and perplexed, and Mr. Chamberlain’s position became one of aggravated and peculiar difficulty. On all sides forces laboriously accumulated threatened to dissolve. In this crisis Lord Randolph Churchill’s instinct and resolution were decisive. One course opened perfectly clear and distinct before him. A hot debate must be forced at once and at all costs in the House of Commons. Mr. Gladstone must be stung into reply; and then, what with the taunts and interruptions of the Opposition and the powerful influence of the Irish audience—not represented at the Foreign Office meeting—he would in all probability be driven to a more uncompromising declaration. As soon as he came down to the House on Friday the 28th, he thrust this forward upon his colleagues on the Front Opposition Bench and urged that Smith or Beach should move the adjournment without delay. The others hesitated. The movers of the adjournment would be on very weak ground and possessed, as it seemed, but a slight and doubtful pretext. The skill of the Prime Minister in explanations soothing to all parties was measureless and unrivalled. A Parliamentary rebuff at such a moment might have the most serious consequences. But Lord Randolph clinched the matter.

At the conclusion of questions Sir Michael Hicks-Beach rose and invited the Prime Minister to declare definitely his intentions in regard to the Bill. Mr. Gladstone’s reply was suave, and ended as follows: ‘Reference must be made elsewhere before I proceed to give authoritative information to the House; but there is nothing at all improper in asking for that information, and on an early day I may be in a position to give it.’ Forthwith Sir Michael Hicks-Beach asked leave to move the adjournment of the House, and in spite of the angry cries of ‘No’ which were raised by Ministerialists he handed to the Speaker a written notice of motion, which the Speaker somewhat doubtfully accepted. All the members on the Opposition benches and a few on the Government side of the House rose amid much cheering and some laughter in its support. Sir Michael then delivered a vigorous and provocative speech. Mr. Gladstone had said that the Bill was urgent: yet now it was to be postponed for five months. He had declared that the Government had a plan, that no one else had a plan, and that their plan held the field: yet now the House was asked to give an indefinite vote on some undefined principle of autonomy for Ireland, which might mean anything or nothing and was, in fact, a mere abstract resolution. If the Second Reading of the Bill were carried under conditions like that, it would be nothing more nor less than a ‘Continuance in Office Bill.’

This was all received with great Opposition cheering, and Mr. Gladstone laid aside the letter he was writing and rose to reply. He began in his most majestic manner. He was struck by the warmth of the speech to which they had listened. He would not imitate it. The imputation that the Government were considering their own continuance of office was one he would not condescend to discuss. That he left to the generous consideration of his countrymen. But as his speech proceeded, the cheers of his followers and the wealth and splendour of his language and ideas produced an exhilarating effect. ‘We have before us a conflict in which we are prepared to go through to the end—(loud cheers)—and in which we are perfectly confident of the final issue. (Renewed cheers.) But we will not take our tactics from the Opposition.’ (Cheers.) And then followed a passage which proved of momentous importance. ‘The right honourable gentleman says that we are going to give an indefinite vote, and that the Bill is to be remodelled. I think that happy word is a pure invention. I am not aware that there is a shadow or shred of authority for any such statement.’

Lord Randolph Churchill: Reconstructed.

Mr. Gladstone: The noble lord says ‘reconstructed’ was the word. It is quite true that the word ‘reconstructed’ was used. (Loud Opposition cheers and laughter.) What confidence these gentlemen who use those means of opposition must have in the rectitude of their own cause and the far-seeing character of their own statesmanship! (Cheers.) The word ‘reconstructed’ was used. Does the noble lord dare to say it was used with respect to the Bill?

Lord Randolph Churchill: Yes.

Mr. Gladstone: Never! Never! (Cheers.) It was used with respect to one particular clause of the Bill. This grand attack, founded upon the fact that our Bill was to be remodelled, therefore fails. What a woeful collapse! It is not the Bill that is to be remodelled, it appears, after all. (Home Rule cheers and laughter.) The noble lord spoke boldly of my speech, but now it turns out that he read it wrong. (More laughter.)

Seldom has rhetorical success been more dearly purchased. If Mr. Gladstone had made a lame and ineffective speech, if he had contrived to sit down leaving the impression that he was hesitating and uncertain, the course of history might have run very differently. The support of wavering friends might have been secured. A word would have reassured Parnell. The Second Reading might have been carried. But the very excellence of his arguments defeated his schemes and his uncompromising statements settled the fate of the Bill. ‘Never! Never!’ was the last word in the negotiations with the Liberal and Radical Unionists; it was the wrench which broke finally and for ever the many ties of sentiment and interest which bound them to their party: henceforth they looked back no more, and strode forward into the future, anxious but not undecided.

Some realisation of the possible effect of his words seemed to come to the Minister after they were spoken, for he lapsed into ambiguity and reservations; ‘and,’ said he before sitting down, ‘if we had made some great error in the management of this Bill, the right honourable gentleman would not have interposed to-day with his motion for adjournment, but would probably have sat with folded arms, delighted to see how we walked into some one of the many snares set for us.’

Lord Randolph Churchill followed in debate. It was not possible then to know how deep was the impression made upon the Liberal-Unionists by the uncompromising statements of the Prime Minister, and Lord Randolph, in a speech which provoked the occupants of the Treasury Bench, which many mistook for a mere taunting attack, but which was, in reality, a very adroit and skilful performance, endeavoured with no little success to extort from Mr. Gladstone and the Home Rulers repeated admissions that the division on the Second Reading was to be a real trial of strength and repeated denials that the Bill was to be dropped or reconstructed. To do this it was necessary to assert the contrary in an exaggerated form—yet without exciting suspicion; and anyone who may chance to read the speech from this point of view will discern the artifice lurking in every part. The offer which the Government made to the House was, he suggested, this: ‘If you vote for the Second Reading of this Bill, we will withdraw the Bill, and you shall never hear of it again’; and when this excited protests he swiftly changed his ground and declared that the Prime Minister was speaking with two voices—‘a voice to the Irish members that the Bill is not to be reconstructed—[No!]—a voice to the Liberals below the Gangway that it is to be reconstructed.’ [No! No!] He asked Mr. Gladstone why he would not ‘present a fair issue and stick to his guns,’ adding, amid a storm of Ministerial wrath, ‘we are being jockeyed.’ Why was it necessary to delay the Bill? ‘The right honourable gentleman says he has no time. Why has he no time? To whom is it principally due that this debate has been so protracted? Who refused to take it de die in diem? Who interposed every obstacle which Parliamentary experience and ingenuity could suggest? Why, sir, if it had not been for the obstacles interposed by the Prime Minister himself, we might have divided on this Bill a week ago. And what is the remedy? "The question," says the Prime Minister, "is very urgent. I still hold to the doctrine of extreme urgency; but we have no time to deal with it this summer and we will therefore put off further dealing with it till the end of the year." [Mr. Gladstone dissented.] The Prime Minister is very captious about dates. We will put off dealing with the Bill then to some period in the future marked out for us by those "limitations which are imposed upon us by the revolutions of the heavenly bodies." The right honourable gentleman complains of want of time, and he says: "We will not send the Bill up to the House of Lords in August." Because why? Because the House of Lords will seek refuge in the excuse that they cannot consider the measure in the time at their disposal. [Mr. Gladstone: ‘Hear! Hear!’] Sir, I dare say that the Prime Minister is far better acquainted with Peers than I am. He has made a great many of them—but whatever course the House of Lords may take will not, I am certain, be based upon such frivolous grounds as that, and I am perfectly convinced that he need not have the smallest fear whatever that the question of time will be raised. I have not a doubt about it that the decision of the House of Lords upon this Bill will be serious, calm, immediate and final.’ After complaining that information should be given to one group of members at the Foreign Office and refused to the House of Commons as a whole, Lord Randolph proceeded: ‘What has been the great bribe offered by the Prime Minister—a bribe as great as any offered at the time of the Act of Union? "If you vote for the Second Reading of a Bill which you do not approve of in your hearts and which you disbelieve in, I promise that at any rate for another twelve months you shall not be sent back to your constituencies." This is the noble policy of the right honourable gentleman, and the noble motives by which he appeals to Parliament: "Vote for anything you like; you are committed to nothing."’