take notes. Shortly after, Randolph whispered to de Worms to stop: he had given himself away sufficiently and might easily go too far; but de Worms went on till Randolph pulled his coattail violently with a 'Sit down, you fool!'
Gladstone got up and made de Worms appear ridiculous. As soon as the Great Debater finished his speech, Randolph rose and deplored the fact that the most eloquent man of the day so often kept the debate on a low level because he loved to expose platitudes. And then he went on to develop new arguments and lift the whole controversy to a higher level. When he sat down everyone in the House admitted that Gladstone had been sharply countered, and not only out-generalled, but put in a secondary place. Till I questioned Randolph afterwards, I had no idea that he had planned the whole attack like a born captain and used poor de Worms as a bait to 'draw'
Gladstone.
In all the essential qualities of leadership he surprised everyone capable of judging. Gladstone was reported to have said that Lord Randolph was the courtliest man he had ever met and the greatest Conservative since Pitt. In the six weeks after the adjournment, he won golden opinions from all sorts and conditions of men. The best judges, even men as clear slighted as Hartington and Dilke, did not perceive all his qualities till later. After the Bradlaugh debate Hartington said that Randolph knew the House of Commons better than the House knew itself, but Dilke, I think, was the first to see his unique qualities as a director of debate and captain of word warfare.
Time and again I quoted Bacon's great word that might have been written expressly about him: 'Great men, like the heavenly bodies, move violently to their places and calmly in then: places.'
But now and then a spice of the old Randolph delighted the House. A specious motion was made, hiding a cunning trap: Randolph rose. 'Surely in vain is the net spread in the sight of any bird,' he began and the House howled its appreciation. 'Randolph can't be caught napping; he had two eyes'-a score of differently worded eulogies! Everyone in the House seemed lifted to a higher level through his ability. The exact contrary of this took place a few years later when Arthur Balfour became Leader of the House. He persisted in treating members as if they had all come from Connemara and he was still Irish Secretary, and the House resented his insolent impertinences.
When the House met again Lord Randolph's power had grown: he had deposed Gladstone, had won a greater position in the House than Gladstone himself. True, very soon there were rumors of disputes in the Cabinet. 'They object to Randolph's budget,' we heard, the 'they' being Lord George Hamilton for the Navy and W. H. Smith for the Army; but everyone felt that 'they' must give in. Then a golden day when one heard that Lord George Hamilton cut down his estimate; there would be peace.
What would Randolph's budget be like? He told me on two or three occasions that he meant to bring in a democratic budget; Gladstone's cry of 'Peace, Retrenchment, and Reform' seemed to have got into his blood. In vain I tried to persuade him that the times had changed, that the days of the old ten pound householder who paid all the taxes and therefore loved economy as the chief of virtues had passed away for ever. 'The majority of the presentday voters,' I asserted, 'pay nothing and Englishmen usually prefer freehandedness to economy.' He would not even consider it. One evening he told me that 'Smith's holding out and won't reduce his estimates and he's backed by Salisbury! Think of the pair,' he cried, 'old tradesmen both! And both hate me. I'll resign and see what they'll do in front of Gladstone.'
'Don't be mad,' I cried. 'Don't resign, stick to the wheel.' Suddenly he told me at dinner that he was going down to Windsor, and when out of ignorance I saw nothing to wonder at in that invitation, he explained to me that in his elder brother's divorce case ten years or so before, he had taken up the cudgels for Blandford against the Queen and had been boycotted by the Court ever since. He was immensely pleased with the Queen's invitation.
When he returned from Windsor, the news of his resignation had preceded him and created an extraordinary sensation: it was whispered with bated breath that he had used the Queen's letter paper to write his resignation to Lord Salisbury, as if Randolph could ever have thought that anyone would imagine he would steal dignity from an invitation to Windsor. Lord George Hamilton went down in the train with him to Windsor and tells us that even then Randolph had made up his mind to resign. In gratitude for some earlier support from The Times, Randolph had given that paper the first news and editor Buckle chastized him very courteously in two whole columns. The same morning I got a line asking me to come to see him; I went up to Connaught Place with heavy heart about eleven o'clock. The rows of carriages about the house startled me and the house itself was crammed with Tory members of Parliament. I caught Randolph between two rooms. 'What d'ye think of it?' he cried, joyously bubbling over. 'More than two hundred and fifty Tory members come to attest their allegiance to me: I've won; the 'old gang' will have to give in.' But he had reckoned without Salisbury's obstinacy and dislike.
Nothing happened for days and I got another note. Again I went to Connaught Place, empty now, the rooms, and deserted. Randolph came to me.
'The rats desert the sinking ship,' he began gloomily. 'Salisbury has cabled Harrington to return from the continent and in a week he'll arrive.'
'Will Hartington help him?' I asked. 'He had a great opinion of you, I know,' and I told him how Hartington had praised his leadership of the House to me and how convincing the praise was, because those who praised most highly were the best judges. At first Randolph seemed dejected, but in the course of talk he told me how he had won the Queen at dinner and how she told him she regarded him as a true statesman. 'A great woman,' he added, 'one of the wisest and best of women.'
A few days later Hartington arrived; Randolph met him at the railway station and was profoundly impressed. 'A noble man,' he said afterwards, gravely. 'He assured me that he regarded me as a born Conservative leader and would do nothing to embarrass me.' A couple of days later he told me in wonderment that Salisbury had offered to serve with or under Hartington and that Hartington had refused: 'I must win now; that's Salisbury's last card.'
But it wasn't. A couple of days later I called upon him; he met me with the exclamation: 'I'm dished. Goschen will be Chancellor; I had forgotten Goschen.' He went on to tell me that Mrs. Jeune had suggested it to him. 'As soon as she mentioned the name,' he said, 'I felt struck through the heart. I knew it was all over.' And it was. 'Old Morality,' W. H. Smith, undertook to lead the House and Goschen made himself responsible for the finances and Randolph was out in the cold.
I tried to persuade him that nothing was really lost. 'The corner seat below the gangway,' I cried, 'and your most stinging criticism and in six months 'Old Morality' will be glad to get back to his bookshop, and…'
He shook his head to my utter wonder. 'I can't,' he said. 'I am a Conservative;
I can't. Ah! If it were Gladstone in power, I'd get to work at once. I can't fight my own side.' But he had fought his own side on the Brad-laugh business six years before; why had he changed?
'Why on earth then did you resign?' rose to my lips, but I said nothing.
The tragedy was complete without comment.
One more incident, for the fallen lion was to get more than one kick. Strange it was that from 1880 to his resignation in 1886 everything seemed to favor and help him. After his resignation everything went against him.
Astonishingly good luck in a series and then astonishingly bad luck. Yet just at first everything seemed to go well; all through the session of 1887 there were rumors of reconciliation. People were so under the spell of Randolph's consummate leadership and masterful personality that they felt sure he would break out in some new way; he must have something up his sleeve.
Then came tidings of a pact with Chamberlain and the mirage of a Center party. As leader of the House, 'Old Morality' Smith, without an 'h' to his name, was almost absurd. The rumor grew; then Bright died and Central Birmingham was vacant. At once I heard through Louis Jennings, Randolph's best friend and also a good friend of mine, that Randolph, sick of Paddington and villadom, was going to stand for Bright's old seat and make Torydemocracy a reality. But Chamberlain would not hear of such a rival near his throne; he told Hicks-Beach that if Randolph stood for Central Birmingham, the unwritten compact between the Liberal Unionists and the Conservatives would be broken and he would consider himself free to act as he pleased.
Hicks-Beach at first fought for Randolph: he had always the highest opinion of Randolph's genius. When Gladstone fell in 1886, Lord Salisbury called Hicks-Beach with Randolph to determine who should lead the Lower House.
Hicks-Beach's claim was older and many would have said better founded; he was a man of high character, great experience and real ability, but he wouldn't hear of any comparison. Randolph, he declared, was the first choice in every way: he must be the Leader and he, Hicks-Beach, would take a place under him. Now he hated to
