Asquith (84 page)

A sense of shame that it should have occurred was a frequent note “ I did not expect it of my countrymen,”
^s
Haldane wrote in a calming but affectionate letter. “ I feel humiliated as an Englishman at such a result,”* the Bishop of Chelmsford said. His colleague of Southwark added: “ I am left today wondering whether this is really England, and I am a British citizen.... We have disgraced ourselves, I mean we ordinary people.”
^u
And the Master of Bafliol (A. L. Smith) wrote to express “ what I find to be a feeling universal, even amongst those who would politically be far from your party—a feeling of deep regret and shame that such a thing could possibly happen to
you”
^v

The politicians divided into those, like Bryce (“ There has not been a time, even when Mr. Gladstone lost his two seats, when so much turned on one man’s presence.”) who were dismayed at Asquith’s absence from the House of Commons; and those like Birrell, always one for graceful withdrawal, who could see advantages for Asquith in being away from the squalid scene: “You surely are better out of it for the time, than watching Ll.G. lead apes to Hell.”
^{w, 1}

¹
 
_{He also said, a characteristic touch from a former member for Fife, “ Now that it is over I don’t mind telling you that
 
I never did like East Fife,
 
although I imagine the blunder is attributable to the absorption in the County of those plaguey boroughs with that fishing population which has broken the hearts of so many good (and bad) Liberals ere now. But they won’t break yours.”
 
(Asquith Papers,
 
box xxxiii f. 25).}

Some correspondents thought more of the past than of the future. Hankey wrote: “ When times are less breathless and the public perspective is restored, the people will learn what those who were with you at the time know well—the tremendous burden you carried through the first half of the War, and that it was you who saved the Empire from absolute disaster.”
^x
Sir William Robertson, after refer
ring to his experience of “
the greatest kindness
,
consideration and straight forwardness
from you in the troublous time we have together been through,” went on to say: “ Perhaps this is a permissible occasion for me to tell you that poor K(itchener) had a great admiration and affection for you and
often
told me that you were a great help to him in the early and critical days of the war, and then displayed far and away more courage than most others in the Cabinet, especially than some who would have us believe they are so very courageous.”
^y

Other letters sought to explain away the result. The best informed of these came from James Scott, Asquith’s chairman in East Fife. He wrote:

For a week before the election we had a swarm of women going from door to door indulging in a slander for which they had not a shadow of proof. This was used to such purpose as to influence the female vote very much against you. When the man was a weak subject, if not swayed, he was induced to abstain from voting, which latter course was followed in not a few cases. With others who had been employed on munitions, and in receipt of good wages, their pocket outweighed their principles. Again we had those who made a point of your absence from the constituency and did not hesitate to say that we never see him and are not going to work.
^z

Whatever the explanation, and however great the sympathy, Asquith was out, and politically down. Politics, even had he wished them to do so, offered no employment for more than a fraction of his time. During the first six months of 1919 not a single invitation to speak reached him from any Liberal Association in the country. He was the proscribed man. His platform activities were confined to two or three non-party meetings in support of the League of Nations and other progressive causes. He travelled, he read, and he wrote. Occasionally he attended official ceremonies and banquets—the King, a loyal friend at this stage, would have seen to that, even had no-one else; and at them he retained his edge of sharp, sensible and tolerant comment:

‘‘We went yesterday to the Luncheon in honour of Foch,” he wrote on July 31st, 1919. “ I had a little conversation with him, and I thought he talked a lot of nonsense about Germany sinking never to rise again, etc. “
Quel domtnage
(as Talleyrand said of Napoleon, not as soldier but as Emperor)
que les soldats soient si mal
 
élevés
! ” Haig, who sat next to us, also has his limitations, but he got through his little speech without any flaring
gaffes ”
^aa 

No one could have been less unbalanced by setback than was Asquith. He lived amongst his relations and friends and books, and he lived agreeably. But he lived without power, or public honour, or real occupation.

1
 
_{The index entry for Maurice in Lloyd George’s
War Memoirs
is a remarkable example of importing invective into a section of a book which is normally neutral:}

_{“
Maurice
,
Sir Frederick
... comfortably placed as any politician, 1675; usbservient and unbalanced, 1685; ... his astonishing arithmetical calculations, 1763-4; the instrument by which the Government was to be thrown out, 1778;... his astounding
volte face
of 22/4/18, 1780-1 ... intrigues against the Government, his mind being apparently unhinged, 1784; false allegations against Lloyd George and Bonar Law published by, 1784-6; the tool of astuter men, 1786 ... his double-dealing denounced by Lloyd George, 1787-8 ... his grave breach of discipline condoned by Asquith, 1791; dismissed, 1791.”}

The later months of 1919 saw a slight easing of Asquith’s isolation. In August he was asked to preside over a Royal Commission on the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, and accepted. It was hardly a substitute for membership of the Peace Conference delegation, but it was something to do, and it took him to familiar old haunts at Oxford and agreeable new ones at Cambridge. He discharged his duties with some enthusiasm.
¹
Then, at the end of the year, together with Lloyd George, he received a special award of military medals—the 1914 War Star, the 1914-18 War Medal, and the 1918 Victory Medal— from the Army Council. At first the intention of the War Office (under Churchill) had been to give these to Lloyd George alone, but the King had demurred, and withdrew his opposition only when both of the war Prime Ministers were included.

Social life, both at the Wharf and in Cavendish Square, became more expansive. It had never been unduly restricted, but now there was a return almost to the pre-1914 pattern:

“We drove up in good time to receive our ‘ young visitor ’ (the Prince of Wales),” he wrote on January 20th, 1920, “ the fellow guests with whom we provided him being the two Bibescae, Soveral, Birrell, Sir D. and Lady Maclean, and my niece Kakoo Granby,
²
who was in wonderful looks. The Prince has excellent
manners and has come on immensely in ease and
savoir faire.
He talked quite amusingly of his experience in America, and I think is not sorry to be off again in March, even to so dismal a goal as Australia. I fancy the evenings at the fireside of Sandringham Cottage pass with somewhat leaden feet. Both Soveral and Birrell were in excellent form, and Lady Maclean, who is still young and quite good-looking, surveyed the scene with glowing cheeks and glittering eyes. .. the meal was a great success.”
^a

Much more important for Asquith than either the small signs of public recognition, or the revival to full pressure of his and Margot’s social life, was the growing public disillusion with the Coalition. The post-war honeymoon was over. Some of the ill-considered cries and extravagant promises of the Coupon election were already coming home to roost. For an independent Liberal the political climate was still chilly, but no longer so frigid that it was suicide for him to venture out of doors. Over the turn of the year Sir John Simon was the first of the old front benchers to make a foray. He was narrowly defeated at Spen Valley. If Asquith himself was to come back the attempt could not be too long delayed. Inevitably, his desires were mixed. After thirty-two years of dominant membership, he missed the House of Commons. But he knew that the 1918 Parliament could never be one in which he would enjoy sitting. Its atmosphere was too alien to his views and style. A hazardous contest was also unattractive. He never much enjoyed electioneering, even at the best of times, and least of all was he likely to do so after the disaster of the previous year at East Fife. Another failure would be almost a final blow. Transcending all these considerations, however, was his massive disapproval of both the policy and methods of the Coalition, and his obligation to give the most effective possible expression to this view. This he could not do from the sidelines.

The glimmering of an opportunity came early in the New Year of 1920. The death of one of the small band of independent Liberals created a vacancy at Paisley, a Lanarkshire industrial town on the edge of the Glasgow conurbation. There, in 1918, with strong local ties
behind him, the dead member had been returned by the bare majority of 106. It was not clear how transferable was his support. Nor was it clear that the local Liberal association wanted Asquith. At that time the position within local Liberal associations was rather like that in Berlin in the early days of the cold war. No one doubted the enmity of Lloyd George and Asquith, but the adherents of both attempted to co-exist within the same associations, running them as single units upon the basis of two (rather than four) power control. The introduction of Asquith as a candidate was obviously likely to have a fissiparous effect, and those members who inclined in a Lloyd George direction were, to say the least, cool towards the idea.