Asquith by Roy Jenkins Page B

entirely his own act ”  g and this was no doubt formally true. But Asquith himself, like most other ministers, had come to the conclusion by early January that it was time for the act to be committed. His admiration for Gladstone had been unconfmed. To the end of his life he thought him the greatest man with whom he had ever worked. But he knew how rapidly Gladstone’s judgment was failing. In consequence, he made no attempt to cling to the Grand Old Man during this Lear-like period. His relations with Gladstone had been based on high mutual respect, but hardly upon great personal intimacy. And this was a time when those who had been far closer, Morley particularly, and Rosebery too, were convinced that the moment for resignation had come.
    Gladstone at last made his decision known to his colleagues on February 27th, and on March 1st he attended his final Cabinet and made his last speech in the House of Commons. What happened at this Cabinet—the “ blubbering Cabinet ” as Gladstone subsequently referred to it—was described by Asquith many years later: “ Before the Cabinet separated, Lord Kimberley (the senior member), who was genuinely moved, had uttered a few broken sentences of affection and reverence, when Harcourt produced from his box and proceeded to read a well-thumbed ms of highly elaborated eulogy. Of those who were present there are now few survivors; but which of them can forget the expression of Mr. Gladstone’s face, as he looked on with hooded eyes and tightened lips at this maladroit performance? h
    Asquith wrote to Gladstone a day or two later, and was proud of the letter which he received in reply. “ The future is in my mind a clouded picture,” it ran: “ but I am glad that the prolongation of my political life has given me an opportunity of helping the arrangements under which you have taken your stand in political life. I well remember the impression made upon me by your speech at the Eighty Club, the first time I ever saw or heard you. It has since been, of course, deepened and confirmed. Great problems are before us: and I know no one more likely to face them, as I hope and believe, not only with a manly strength, but with a determined integrity of mind. I most earnestly hope that you may be enabled to fulfil your part, which will certainly be an arduous one.” i

    The succession was not a certain one. In spite of the naval estimates,

    Gladstone, had he been asked, would have recommended the Queen to send for Lord Spencer. But he was not asked. And, indeed, biased and bitter though the Queen had been in most of her later dealings with him, this omission was neither unconstitutional nor unreasonable. It was not desirable that a Prime Minister who was in effect being forced out by colleagues who venerated his past, but no longer trusted his judgment, should be allowed to choose his own successor. Spencer would have been a most inadequate choice. The “ red earl ” as he was known (owing to the colour of his beard rather than the nature of his political views) had no great powers either of intellect or leadership, and no following in the Liberal Party. Spencer commended himself to Gladstone because he was an old Whig aristocrat whom he had known for many years, and one of the very few in this category who had not deserted him over Home Rule.
    The more serious claimants were Harcourt and Rosebery. The former—the Great Gladiator as he was sometimes called in those enthusiastic days—was nearly twenty-five years Rosebery’s senior and had a much wider experience of office. Furthermore, he had the advantage of being in the Commons. A peer Prime Minister, as Salisbury showed, was then by no means impossible, but it was faintly ludicrous for the head of the Government to sit in a House in which he could muster only 41 supporters. In addition, Harcourt’s “ Little England ” views were more popular in the Liberal Party than Rosebery’s imperialism. For all these reasons, Harcourt