gesture, fell steadily from 1920 onwards until they reached 3/6 in 1927 and then went down to 1/8 in 1931. Of course he had some other assets, but the collapse of the central part of his fortune did not make for buoyancy.
Nor did he enjoy the business of parliamentary opposition. His
forte
as Prime Minister was taking the heat out of debates and convincing the House of the reasonableness of the Government’s approach. It was a technique which by its very nature was unsuited for use from the front opposition bench. He recognized his limitations, but he made little attempt to develop another technique. He was a gentle opponent to a weak Government.
Both his attitude and his easy pattern of life is well-illustrated by Tom Jones’s account of a morning in April that year. Jones was in his room in the Cabinet Offices, carrying on the routine business of a Labour Government, of which paradoxically he was throughout his life a consistent voting supporter, but enjoying none of the intimacy with MacDonald which he had achieved with each of the three preceding Prime Ministers.
I was in the middle of papers [he wrote] when Mr Stanley Baldwin was announced at the door. I was startled for a moment, as one does not have ex-Prime Ministers calling on one every day, but this was very like S.B., who began, ‘You will never come to see me, so I thought I would come to see you.’ We gossiped for half an hour in the office and then walked up to the United Universities Club and had lunch. After asking how I was getting on he told me something of the worries of a Party leader in days when there are no deep political convictions to divide men of good will. He had some troublesome followers who were clamouring for a positive policy without being able to suggest one. The one he had offered had been rejected. There was nothing for it but to await events. … He joked about having to go on making speeches without my help…. 15
Outside the House Baldwin forced the pace a little more. In May and June he made an important and successful series of speeches throughout the country, laying down a social reform policy for a future Conservative Government. The effect of these was temporarily marred by an interview of quite startling indiscretion which he gave to the
People
newspaper, then very right-wing and hardly distinguished. It was a surprising vehicle for Baldwin to choose. Probably the Conservative Central Office had arranged it. He saw an unknown reporter alone and did not check the copy. As a result the paper came out with the most terrifying remarks allegedly made by Baldwin about someof the political figures of the day, notably Beaverbrook, but also Lloyd George and others. Denials had to be issued, if only to reduce the risk of libel. The further trouble was that the ‘unknown’ journalist had caught Baldwin’s method of expression, and indeed his private views, almost perfectly. Few were much convinced by the denials, and the proprietor, editor and staff of the
People
were quite naturally furious at this behaviour on the part of ‘Honest Stanley’. It left a little dent in his reputation, but like most such incidents, was a quickly subsiding storm in a teacup.
All things considered, he departed for Aix in that summer of 1924 in calmer mind than in either of the two previous years. The Labour Government’s hold on office was manifestly tenuous. A third quick election was clearly a possibility. His chances of winning it with a reunited party and a substantial majority were good. So long as he did so, his leadership was not under challenge.
Parliament reassembled after only a seven-week recess on 30 September. The future of the Government was at risk over the ratification of treaties with the Soviet Union. In the event it was heavily defeated on 8 October on the issue of the Campbell Case 8 . The campaign was disfigured by Conservative exploitation of the forged Zinoviev letter 9 and of the Bolshevik issuegenerally. Baldwin soiled
Nor did he enjoy the business of parliamentary opposition. His
forte
as Prime Minister was taking the heat out of debates and convincing the House of the reasonableness of the Government’s approach. It was a technique which by its very nature was unsuited for use from the front opposition bench. He recognized his limitations, but he made little attempt to develop another technique. He was a gentle opponent to a weak Government.
Both his attitude and his easy pattern of life is well-illustrated by Tom Jones’s account of a morning in April that year. Jones was in his room in the Cabinet Offices, carrying on the routine business of a Labour Government, of which paradoxically he was throughout his life a consistent voting supporter, but enjoying none of the intimacy with MacDonald which he had achieved with each of the three preceding Prime Ministers.
I was in the middle of papers [he wrote] when Mr Stanley Baldwin was announced at the door. I was startled for a moment, as one does not have ex-Prime Ministers calling on one every day, but this was very like S.B., who began, ‘You will never come to see me, so I thought I would come to see you.’ We gossiped for half an hour in the office and then walked up to the United Universities Club and had lunch. After asking how I was getting on he told me something of the worries of a Party leader in days when there are no deep political convictions to divide men of good will. He had some troublesome followers who were clamouring for a positive policy without being able to suggest one. The one he had offered had been rejected. There was nothing for it but to await events. … He joked about having to go on making speeches without my help…. 15
Outside the House Baldwin forced the pace a little more. In May and June he made an important and successful series of speeches throughout the country, laying down a social reform policy for a future Conservative Government. The effect of these was temporarily marred by an interview of quite startling indiscretion which he gave to the
People
newspaper, then very right-wing and hardly distinguished. It was a surprising vehicle for Baldwin to choose. Probably the Conservative Central Office had arranged it. He saw an unknown reporter alone and did not check the copy. As a result the paper came out with the most terrifying remarks allegedly made by Baldwin about someof the political figures of the day, notably Beaverbrook, but also Lloyd George and others. Denials had to be issued, if only to reduce the risk of libel. The further trouble was that the ‘unknown’ journalist had caught Baldwin’s method of expression, and indeed his private views, almost perfectly. Few were much convinced by the denials, and the proprietor, editor and staff of the
People
were quite naturally furious at this behaviour on the part of ‘Honest Stanley’. It left a little dent in his reputation, but like most such incidents, was a quickly subsiding storm in a teacup.
All things considered, he departed for Aix in that summer of 1924 in calmer mind than in either of the two previous years. The Labour Government’s hold on office was manifestly tenuous. A third quick election was clearly a possibility. His chances of winning it with a reunited party and a substantial majority were good. So long as he did so, his leadership was not under challenge.
Parliament reassembled after only a seven-week recess on 30 September. The future of the Government was at risk over the ratification of treaties with the Soviet Union. In the event it was heavily defeated on 8 October on the issue of the Campbell Case 8 . The campaign was disfigured by Conservative exploitation of the forged Zinoviev letter 9 and of the Bolshevik issuegenerally. Baldwin soiled
Similar Books
