For a moment everybody was staggered by this declaration; and it produced a combination which anybody could forecast, and for which n.o.body was prepared. There came accordingly something like a panic over the House. Here we were face to face with a Ministerial crisis, with doom and the abyss and the end of all things. Unexpectedly, in a moment, without a second's warning, this state of things led to a phenomenon which belongs to the House of Commons alone. Councils of war are usually held in the silence and secrecy and beneath the impenetrable walls of the council chamber. But sudden councils of war, called for by unexpected events, have to be held in the open in the House of Commons.

The world--the world of strangers, of amba.s.sadors, of peers, of ladies, of the const.i.tuents, and, above all, the world of watchful, scornful, vindictive enemies--can look on as though the leaders of the parties were bees working in a gla.s.s hive. And it is impossible for even the best trained men to keep their air and manners in such dread circ.u.mstances from betraying the seriousness and excitement and awe which the gravity of the events are exciting in them.

[Sidenote: Mr. Gladstone's att.i.tude.]

On the Treasury Bench there was a good deal of excitement, but it was pretty well repressed: and in the midst of it all is the face of Mr.

Gladstone, over-pale, with a strange glitter in the eyes that made them look unnaturally large, two jets of lambent and almost dazzling flame, but otherwise very composed, deadly calm. On the Irish Benches the excitement was more tense, for their course was even more difficult than that of the Government. The Government had stated their decision that they wanted only eighty members. But there was an Irish member, a leader of a party which seeks to claim Irish support as a better Irish party than the other, proposing that Ireland should have her full total of members. The Irish members naturally would be inclined to support their countrymen, if not to seek to keep the Irish representation as high as it could possibly be.

[Sidenote: A splendid gambler.]

On the other hand, if all the Irish members went the same way it was all up with the Government. Some fifty to seventy British Liberals adopt the same policy as the Irish members with regard to the Irish question and the Home Rule Bill, and if the Irish members only give the word, they also would vote with Mr. Redmond, and the Government would be "snowed under," to use an expressive Americanism, a majority of upwards of two hundred against them. Mr. Gladstone had evidently made up his mind that this was the situation he would have to face, and played his last, his supreme, his desperate card. You could see that he himself felt that this was the kind of card he was playing from his look as he played it.

There was outward calmness in the face, there was the same evenness of tone in the voice; he built up his case with the same unbroken command of his language and ideas as is his usual characteristic. His statement of his position was admirable in its lucidity, its temper, and its courage. But he was excited. Just as he rose up, Sir William Harcourt jumped up, and in a state of impatience and excitement that was palpable, asked for something. It was a gla.s.s of water for Mr.

Gladstone. The gla.s.s of water was brought in; it was put in front of Mr.

Gladstone; he sipped it just as he was about to start on his perilous oratorical voyage, and then, clearing his throat, he made the fateful announcement which possibly was to wreck his measure and himself. And the statement came to this: If the Government were defeated, it would be by a combination of different parties, but they would all agree in supporting 103 as against 80 Irish members; and if they did that, why the House was master. This was ambiguous, and yet it was pretty plain.

The Government declined to accept as a vote of want of confidence in them a majority which was obtained by so dishonest and treacherous a combination as men voting together who were at such opposite poles of thought; and the Government would just checkmate the little game by accepting the 103 members as what the House preferred to the Government plan of 80.

[Sidenote: The fall of the flag.]

There was a gleam of almost sardonic triumph in the Old Man's eye as he sat down, having shot this bolt; and he looked as if he had thoroughly discomfited his enemies. But his enemies were not so easily discomfited.

Treacherous, base, unscrupulous, call it what he liked, they were not going to miss the opportunity of baiting him: and Mr. Chamberlain's pale face wore a deadlier pallor. There was even a colder and fiercer ring than usual in his clear, cruel voice; his always saturnine look deepened as he seemed to grasp beforehand his great and long delayed hour of vengeance. Mr. Balfour adopted the same tactics. In favour of 103 members? Not at all--the vote would mean nothing of that kind--it would simply mean that they were opposed to the plan of the Government; in short, there was the issue quite plain. The Tories and the Unionists would vote black was white, wrong was right. This way one moment, the other way the next--they would do anything, provided only they could turn the Government out, defeat the Bill, and humiliate the Old Man. And so the situation grew more difficult every moment.

For it was now plain that the Government were most certain to be beaten, and that if they were beaten, there must be an end of Home Rule. It might be good Parliamentary tactics to say that the Government would accept the decision of the House, but everybody knows what moral authority, what reality of strength, there is in a Government which has been "snowed under" by a majority of 200.

[Sidenote: Mr. s.e.xton makes the running.]

It will now be understood what tremendous issues rested on the speech which Mr. s.e.xton rose to deliver. In moments of stress and difficulty he is the man always selected by his colleagues to state the Irish case.

Never in his chequered and stormy early career did that wonderful Parliamentarian have a task more difficult than that by which he was now confronted. In front of him was the Government in the very panic of impending ruin. He had only to look across the floor of the House, and he could see the pallid face of that mighty statesman who lives so high in the hearts and affections of the people whom Mr. s.e.xton represents, and who at that moment was in his hour of agony, if not of final and irretrievable ruin. Behind the Prime Minister were other men--equally eager to hear what he had to say--that st.u.r.dy band of Radicals, mostly from Scotland, who only wanted the word to desert their own leader and follow the guidance of the Irish members. And behind Mr. s.e.xton was the grimmest enemy of all--the men from his own country, who were resolved, on this occasion, to push the demand of Ireland to the extreme point, and who held that he would betray the Irish cause if he backed, not them, but Mr. Gladstone and the British Government.

[Sidenote: And takes the lead.]

It required all the dexterity, all the coolness, all the splendid equanimity and courage of the man of genius at such a fateful hour to keep his head. Mr. s.e.xton was equal to the occasion. He spoke slowly, and there was a hush in the House to catch his every syllable, for his words were the harbingers of fate. As he spoke so would be decided one of the most momentous and indeed tragical of human issues. He spoke, I say, slowly--but at the same time it was evident that he had his mind well fixed on the end which he wished to reach. Nothing adds so much to the effectiveness of oratory as the sense that the man who is addressing you, is thinking at the very moment he is speaking. You have the sense of watching the visible working of his inner mind; and you are far more deeply impressed than by the glib facility which does not pause, does not stumble, does not hesitate, because he does not stop to think. Many people, reading so much about Mr. s.e.xton's oratory, will be under the impression that he is a very rapid and fluent speaker. He is nothing of the kind. He speaks with a great slowness, grave deliberation, and there are often long and sometimes even trying pauses between his sentences.

He could not conceal on this great occasion the anxiety and the seriousness of the situation; but the mind was splendidly clear, the language as well chosen as though he were sitting in a room and holding discourse to a few admiring friends; and what Mr. s.e.xton had to say was, that he would not go into the same lobby with Chamberlain and Balfour in order to defeat the Government; in short, that he was going to vote with Mr. Gladstone. A long-drawn sigh of relief. The Government is saved.

[Sidenote: The field unsteady.]

But hush--not yet. There are still some of the hard Radicals from Scotland who have never wavered in the idea that the Irish members ought to remain at their full total. They have been partially relieved by what Mr. s.e.xton had said. But then Scotchmen are proverbially tenacious of opinion; and not even his appeal--joined to the appeal of their leader--will altogether change the purpose of those rugged sons of bonnie Scotland. And so, Mr. Shaw, the member for Galashiels, gets up to ask a question. He plainly declares that according to the answer given to this question, his vote would be given for or against the Government.

So we are still in all the agonies of possible delay, for we know that seven Parnellites will go against the Government--that counts fourteen on a division; and if only seven or ten more go the same way, there is a majority against Mr. Gladstone, and we are lost. Mr. Mellor has to answer this fateful question, and everybody cries "Order, order," which is the House of Commons way of saying that people are very anxious to hear what is about to be said. Mr. Mellor gives an answer that satisfies Mr. Shaw. Mr. Dalziel--another st.u.r.dy Scotch Radical--is also satisfied; and so we have all the Liberal vote, with the single exception of Labby--who quickly--furtively--almost shamefacedly--rushes off into the Tory lobby.

[Sidenote: Hoisting the numbers.]

And now the division takes place. There have been several speeches--usually of a minute each--before the final hour comes; but we are all so anxious to know what fate is in store for us, that we cannot stand the strain any longer. The division--the division--let us know the worst. Be it good, or be it ill--let it come at once. The Whips from the two lobbies enter almost simultaneously--this shows plainly enough that it has been a very near thing; then a dreadful hush as the numbers are announced; we have won--aye, but we have by only fourteen! There is a burst of cheers from the Irish Benches; Sir William Harcourt laughs aloud in his triumph; the composure of the Old Man's face remains unchanged; you see he has gone through a great many things like this; and that great heart and sane mind are prepared for any fate. Mr.

Chamberlain says nothing; but looking into the recesses of his amendment paper, attempts to hide the choking rage of disappointment that has come over him at this final defeat of his brightest hopes of trampling his former friend and his former chief in the dust.

[Sidenote: A squabble.]

And now comes the squalid sequel to all this glorious and splendid fight--the disorderly--the chaotic--the anarchic scene of the 11th of July. The whole thing began simply enough. Mr. Brodrick, the son of an Irish landlord--a very light, though very serious young man--managed in the course of his speech to speak of the people from whom he springs as "impecunious and garrulous." At first n.o.body took any notice of what was probably a mere mauvaise plaisanterie; and the incident would have pa.s.sed altogether had not Mr. Brodrick immediately afterwards made a more direct appeal to the Irish Members. This elicited from Mr. s.e.xton the retort that he need not make any appeal to the Irish Benches after the "grossly rude" allusion he had made to the Irish people. On this there was a mild hubbub on the Tory Benches. The House was very thin and very listless, and really not in the mood to take anything very tragically. But Mr. s.e.xton resolutely refused to withdraw unless Mr.

Brodrick gave the example. Mr. Mellor then--acting somewhat precipitately--ruled that Mr. s.e.xton was out of order, and should withdraw his words.

[Sidenote: Mr. s.e.xton defies the chair.]

This created a new situation. Mr. s.e.xton had now to fight, not Mr.

Brodrick, not even Mr. Balfour--but the chair; and to fight the chair is to enter into a contest with the Grand Llama of the House of Commons.

Meantime the House had filled; and every nook and cranny was occupied; a large number of members were standing up; and there was that intense thrill of excitement which always forecasts a great outburst, and the outburst came when Mr. s.e.xton--resolute and composed--gave it plainly to be understood that he would not obey the ruling of the chair; and that he must first get an apology from Mr. Brodrick, as the original offender, before Mr. Brodrick got any apology from him. Then was the cyclone let loose; and there began a series of the wildest, most violent, most angry, and disorderly scenes I have ever witnessed. Scores of members were on their legs at the same time; men hitherto quiet, composed, and good-natured, began to raise cries hoa.r.s.e with rage, and finally four or five hundred voices were united in producing the deafening and discordant din of angry and contradictory voices. Nor was this all. In some parts of the House men began directly to a.s.sail each other--to exchange language of taunt, and insult, and defiance; and, in more than one corner, there were the signs of impending physical conflict. The one relief of the situation was that some men kept their heads and looked on in sadness, while others, seeing only the comic side of the situation, smiled upon it all.

[Sidenote: Gladstone to the rescue.]

Mr. Gladstone, who had been away to dinner, had meantime entered, and a look of pain and solicitude crossed his white face. There is so much of innate gentleness--of inexhaustible kindliness, and of high-bred and scholastic spirit beneath all the vehemence of his political temper and the frenzied energy of his political life--that for such scenes he has never any stomach; and they always bring to his face that same look of shock and pain and humiliation. And he it was who finally saved the situation. Several times Mr. Brodrick would have been willing to withdraw, but Mr. Balfour was resolved to get Mr. Gladstone and Mr.

s.e.xton into a difficulty, to convict Mr. s.e.xton of disobeying the chair, to compel Mr. Gladstone to take action against his most useful friend and most powerful ally. Over and over again, then, he refused to allow Mr. Brodrick to get rid of the whole situation by withdrawing his language, and so enabling Mr. s.e.xton to follow the example. Meantime, Mr. Mellor had ruled that Mr. s.e.xton had been guilty of gross disorder, and had called upon him to leave the House. Mr. s.e.xton had steadily refused, basing his refusal on the demand that there had been no vote of the House. The point was this: There are two rules for dealing with disorder. Under the one a member is named, and then a division takes place, in which the House may refuse or consent to the suspension of a member. Under the other rule, the presiding officer has the right to suspend on his own motion, and without any appeal to the House. The latter rule was that under which Mr. Mellor acted. Mr. s.e.xton demanded that he should be treated under the other rule, believing that if a division had taken place the majority of the House, or at least a very big minority, would have refused to sanction the action of the Chairman.

This would have meant that Mr. Mellor would have been censured, and thereby compelled to resign the Chairmanship.

Mr. Gladstone, I say, saved the situation. In language of touching delicacy and grace, he appealed to Mr. s.e.xton to obey the chair. Mr.

s.e.xton at first would not yield; but when the appeal was renewed--when it was backed by all the resources of that thrilling and vibratory voice of Mr. Gladstone, his stubborn resolve gave way. He rose from his seat--several Liberal members got up and waved their hats; the Irishmen followed their example. And then Mr. Brodrick was able to make his tardy apology, and the matter for the moment was ended.

[Sidenote: The interfering Milman.]

There had been one little scene fiercer almost than any of the others.

When Mr. Mellor proceeded to call Mr. s.e.xton to order, Mr. Milman, the clerk at the table, handed to him, with some appearance of ostentation and of eagerness, the rule which allowed him to compel Mr. s.e.xton's withdrawal without an appeal to the House. This provoked some now fiercely excited Irishmen to an outburst of blind rage. They shouted at Mr. Milman fiercely, desperately--called upon him to leave the Chairman alone, to take the chair himself; and Mr. s.e.xton made a bitter little speech to the effect that it was Mr. Milman's malignant interference which had produced his suspension. It was thought that on Wednesday this matter would be again raised; and even as early as noon there was a big array of members, expecting another outburst. But Mr. Balfour held his peace. Mr. s.e.xton asked a formal question, and gave notice of a motion of censure on the Chairman. Mr. Mellor took the chair amid a wild outburst of Tory cheers; and we got back to the tranquil consideration of clause nine, and to a delightful, good-humoured historical speech by Mr. Swift McNeill on the representation of Trinity College, Dublin.

[Sidenote: Divisions.]

The old story came back to our minds on July 13th of the historic scene at Tyburn when all the traitors were hanged in succession. When the first head was held up there was an awful shudder; the shudder was less vivid when the second head was held up; and when the executioner accidentally dropped the third there was a loud and mocking shout of "b.u.t.ter-fingers." So it was in the House that night until the dinner hour came; but as ten o'clock approached, the House filled and there was a rise in the excitement. The scene, however, bore no comparison to the frenzied excitement of the preceding Thursday--it was evident we were going to have an anti-climax, and the whole arrangement of the Opposition broke down in an important and essential point. On the previous occasion Mr. Balfour, by preconcerted plan, was speaking at the moment when the guillotine fell--with the idea, of course, of bringing into greater relief the wickedness of the Government. Mr. Goschen was marked out to perform the same task this Thursday, but who should get up but Atherley Jones. The delighted Liberals cheered him to the echo. Mr.

Goschen had to sit down, and so the whole denouement collapsed, and the curtain fell not on the lofty and eminent form of a former Chancellor of the Exchequer, but on the less imposing figure of the disgruntled Liberal, who is always anxious to strike his party a blow.

Then comes the division. There is some excitement, though we know we have won. And then we cheer, as we hear that we have won by 27! Clause 9 is now put as a whole. Our majority rises to 29--we cheer even more loudly.

[Sidenote: Tramp, Tramp, Tramp.]

We go through the lobbies in eight more successive divisions. It is the dreariest performance. "That Clause so-and-so stand part of the Bill,"

says the Chairman. A shout of "Ayes!" followed by a shout of "Noes!"--then a cry of "Division!"--then the same thing over again--and again--and again. We stand at 85 majority in nearly every division. But we don't cheer, for it is too monotonous; and as for the poor Tories--where be the wild shouts of "Gag, gag!" with which they rent the general air--their hoa.r.s.e cries of "Shame, shame"--their open and foul taunts in the face of the G.O.M.? Silent--sombre--dogged--we go through the dreary round. Tout ca.s.se--tout pa.s.se--tout la.s.se.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE FIGHT IN THE HOUSE.

[Sidenote: The fatal Thursday.]

By this time everybody has read to his heart's content all the proceedings of that historic and dreadful Thursday night. I have already published elsewhere an account of my experiences; and within my limits here I must somewhat curtail the story. But it is well to correct some of the many errors which have found their way into the press. In the slight reaction which has followed the first wild outburst, it is now seen that there were certain exaggerations in the accounts. For instance, though there was an exchange of blows, altogether not more than five people were concerned in this most odious part of the whole transaction.

[Sidenote: Herod--Judas.]

The row began in a curious kind of way; and, indeed, to properly understand the events of the night, it is necessary to make a perfectly complete separation between two distinct periods. The fall of the guillotine is always certain to be accompanied by a scene of some excitement and violence. The violence has been diminishing steadily, as the different compartments have succeeded each other; and though there were some ugly rumours, the general expectation was that things would not be so very bad. And, indeed, without any desire to make party or personal capital, I may state that undoubtedly they would not have been so bad if Mr. Chamberlain had not intervened at the last moment. Opinion is unanimous that up to the time he spoke the feeling in the House was, though boisterous, rather good humoured. There was a conflict of opinion, there were some shouts, there was that general din in the air which always marks the inspiration of a momentous event, but there was no ill-temper. In a few moments Mr. Chamberlain had, to a certain extent, changed this; but even as to the period when he was speaking, I feel bound to correct the general impression and to say that my own opinion was that the general spirit was one of frolicksome enjoyment rather than of the seriousness of real pa.s.sion. Mr. Chamberlain himself, to do him justice--though he had elaborated a series of the most taunting observations, though sentence after sentence was intended to be an a.s.sault and a barbed taunt--Mr. Chamberlain, I say, seemed himself to regard the whole affair rather from a comic than a tragic point of view.

Under the bitterness of his language, the tone was not that of seriousness--and, indeed, it is very hard for any man to be perfectly serious when he knows that he is speaking for a certain number of allotted minutes, and instead of addressing himself to the particular question before the House, he has to make something in the shape of a last dying speech and declaration. The speech, however, was admirable in form, and still more admirable in delivery; the cold, clear voice penetrated to every ear, and some of the sentences were uttered with that deep, though carefully subdued swell which adds intense force by its very reserve, to the rhetoric of pa.s.sion.

[Sidenote: Joe's beautiful elocution.]

Indeed, if I were a professor of elocution, I should feel bound to say that if a pupil required a lesson in the highest art of delivery, he could do nothing better than listen to Mr. Chamberlain's delivery of this bitter little speech of his; and, above all, that he could nowhere and in nowise better learn the lesson of the extraordinary increase there is in the force of a speech by careful self-suppression on the part of the speaker. There were one or two marvellous examples of Mr.