Prime Ministers and Some Others | Page 4

see him now, walled round with despatch-boxes,
in his pleasant library looking out on the lawn of Pembroke Lodge--the
prettiest villa in Richmond Park. In appearance he was very much what
Punch always represented him--very short, with a head and shoulders
which might have belonged to a much larger frame. When sitting he
might have been taken for a man of average height, and it was only
when he rose to his feet that his diminutive stature became apparent.
One of his most characteristic traits was his voice, which had what, in
the satirical writings of the last century, used to be called "an
aristocratic drawl," and his pronunciation was archaic. Like other
high-bred people of his time, he talked of "cowcumbers" and "laylocks";
called a woman an "oo'man," and was much "obleeged" where a
degenerate race is content to be "obliged."
The frigidity of his address and the seeming stiffness of his manner
were really due to an innate and incurable shyness, but they produced,
even among people who ought to have known him better, a totally
erroneous impression of his character and temperament.
In the small social arts, which are so valuable an equipment for a
political leader, he was indeed deficient. He had no memory for faces,

and was painfully apt to ignore his political supporters when he met
them outside the walls of Parliament; and this inability to remember
faces was allied with a curious artlessness which made it impossible for
him to feign a cordiality he did not feel. In his last illness he said: "I
have seemed cold to my friends, but it was not in my heart." The
friends needed no such assurance, for in private life he was not only
gentle, affectionate, and tender to an unusual degree, but full of fun and
playfulness, a genial host and an admirable talker. The great Lord
Dufferin, a consummate judge of such matters, said: "His conversation
was too delightful, full of anecdote; but then his anecdotes were not
like those told by the ordinary raconteur, and were simply
reminiscences of his own personal experience and intercourse with
other distinguished men."
When Lord Palmerston died, The Times was in its zenith, and its editor,
J. T. Delane, had long been used to "shape the whispers" of Downing
Street. Lord Russell resented journalistic dictation. "I know," he said,
"that Mr. Delane is very angry because I did not kiss his hand instead
of the Queen's" The Times became hostile, and a competent critic
remarked:"
"There have been Ministers who knew the springs of that public
opinion which is delivered ready digested to the nation every morning,
and who have not scrupled to work them for their own diurnal
glorification, even although the recoil might injure their colleagues. But
Lord Russell has never bowed the knee to the potentates of the Press;
he has offered no sacrifice of invitations to social editors; and social
editors have accordingly failed to discover the merits of a statesman
who so little appreciated them, until they have almost made the nation
forget the services that Lord Russell has so faithfully and courageously
rendered."
Of Lord Russell's political consistency I have already spoken; and it
was most conspicuously displayed in his lifelong zeal for the extension
of the suffrage. He had begun his political activities by a successful
attack on the rottenest of rotten boroughs; the enfranchisement of the
Middle Class was the triumph of his middle life. As years advanced his

zeal showed no abatement; again and again he returned to the charge,
though amidst the most discouraging circumstances; and when, in his
old age, he became Prime Minister for the second time, the first task to
which he set his hand was so to extend the suffrage as to include "the
best of the working classes."
In spite of this generous aspiration, it must be confessed that the
Reform Bill of 1866 was not a very exciting measure. It lowered the
qualification for the county franchise to £14 and that for the boroughs
to £7; and this, together with the enfranchisement of lodgers, was
expected to add 400,000 new voters to the list.
The Bill fell flat. It was not sweeping enough to arouse enthusiasm.
Liberals accepted it as an instalment; but Whigs thought it
revolutionary, and made common cause with the Tories to defeat it. As
it was introduced into the House of Commons, Lord Russell had no
chance of speaking on it; but Gladstone's speeches for it and Lowe's
against it remain to this day among the masterpieces of political oratory,
and eventually it was lost, on an amendment moved in committee, by a
majority of eleven. Lord Russell of course resigned. The Queen
received his decision with regret. It was evident that Prussia and
Austria were on the brink