One of these incidents occurred during the consideration of the bankruptcy clauses of the Irish Land Bill, August 1, 1887. The subject was technical, and the issue mixed. Lord Randolph Churchill had made a short argumentative speech upon an amendment which had been moved from the Liberal-Unionist benches. Mr. Chamberlain followed, and took a totally different line. ‘The noble lord,’ he said, ‘has not told the Committee how he intends to vote on this amendment.’ Lord Randolph said he would vote with the Government. ‘I confess,’ said Mr. Chamberlain, ‘I did not come to that conclusion from his speech. I thought the noble lord intended to support the amendment, and upon that I was going to point out to him that the greater part of his speech was against it.’ He then proceeded to indicate considerable differences with Lord Randolph on the merits of the question. The House was in Committee, and both men could therefore speak again. Lord Randolph referred to Mr. Chamberlain’s opening remarks as ‘a characteristic sneer.’ ‘The right honourable gentleman evidently does not understand the process of differing from one’s party and yet supporting it. On this question of the Irish land I hold certain opinions which I have ventured—I hope, with moderation—to press very rarely—I think, only three times—on Her Majesty’s Government. And then, if the Government have not altogether agreed with these opinions, I do not think it necessary to assume that the Government are entirely wrong or that I am infallibly right. Well, on the whole, I adhere to my view of the case. I see nothing inconsistent in supporting them after the remarks I have made—not in a dictatorial, but in a pleading manner.’ Mr. Chamberlain’s retort was prompt and sharp. He denied that he had intended a sneer of any kind. He was sincerely in doubt as to how Lord Randolph would have voted. ‘I am rather glad,’ he said, ‘that this incident has occurred, inasmuch as it has enabled the noble lord to pay me a compliment; and I can assure him that, coming from him, I very much value it. The noble lord said that I, at any rate, am not one of those who differ from their party and yet support it; neither am I one who speaks one way and votes another.’ There the matter dropped so far as the House of Commons was concerned. Mr. Chamberlain wrote the next day to put matters right. ‘I hope,’ he said, ‘that in this case it is ira amantium redintegratio amoris.’
Lord Randolph was not, however, easily placated. ‘I freely confess,’ he replied, ‘that I had viewed your action last night with the greatest possible surprise and some vexation, which I thought proper to express. When on Clause IV. you took similar action, hostile to my views, I refrained from any public comment. I am quite at a loss to understand why you have thought it necessary on two occasions within a week to express in a most marked manner your entire disagreement with me; but I am sure you have excellent reasons for all you do.’
This ill-humour lasted only a few days. Within the week the two men were dining and consulting with each other on personal terms as friendly as before. Yet some scars seem to have smarted, for there are signs in Lord Randolph’s correspondence that from this date he began to draw more closely in matters political towards Lord Hartington, and less freely to confide in his former ally. One morning soon after this Lord Randolph and Mr. Chamberlain went for a walk together in Hyde Park. They discussed the whole position in the frankest way and decided by mutual consent to work independently and to pursue the objects they sought in common by separate paths. Thus ended that intimate political understanding which had united these fiery spirits during the period of storm in a comradeship which had not been without its effects upon public affairs. They parted, with many expressions of goodwill, to follow after a time different roads and to face in the end contrasted fortunes. Their alliance had been brief. Even in the few years with which this account is concerned, they will be seen in sharp antagonism. Yet both were accustomed to preserve, amid the inexhaustible vicissitudes of politics, pleasant memories of those exciting and eventful days.
With this separation the prospects of a National party fade again into that dreamland whence so many have wished to recall them. Few, indeed, are the politicians who have not cherished these visions at times when ordinary party machinery is not at their disposal. To build from the rock a great new party—free alike from vested interests and from holy formulas, able to deal with national problems on their merits, patient to respect the precious bequests of the past, strong to drive forward the wheels of progress—is without doubt a worthy ideal. Alas, that the degeneracy of man should exclude it for ever from this wicked world!
Late in August Ministers determined to put their powers under the Crimes Act into force. All the independent men who kept them in office, seem to have been pained and dismayed by this decision. They feared its effects upon the majority, and doubted its necessity in Ireland.
‘I am desperately puzzled,’ wrote Lord Randolph to Lord Hartington (August 20), ‘to know what line to take about this last action of the Government. I disapprove of it profoundly, but distrust my own opinion—all the more that I do not know what special information Ministers have to support their action. There is unquestionably a smack of vindictiveness about the proclamation, prima facie, which the country will be quick to feel. This, coupled with their singular treatment of the Land Act, cannot produce a good effect. I am anxious to know whether, before their final decision, they secured your concurrence, as in that case I should keep my opinions to myself and give a silent vote in their support.
‘I have a letter from Chamberlain showing considerable irritation and impatience at your last communication to him, and great alarm for the future and his future; but he says he has decided to postpone any action tending to emphasise any difference of opinion between yourself and him. This, however, was written apparently before he was aware of the proclamation of the League and I do not know what effect that may produce on him.’
Lord Hartington’s measured reply makes plain the debt which the Conservative Government owed to this grave, calm, slow-moving man:—
Private.
Bolton Abbey, Skipton: August 21, 1887.