The Churchills

by Mary S. Lovell

Any other man would have jumped at such an offer, but – typically – Randolph laconically made his acceptance conditional. He stated that he could not serve in any government containing Sir Stafford Northcote, leader of ‘the old gang’ of Conservatives which he accused of having brought the great party to its present low ebb. The Queen was shocked, and told Salisbury that as Randolph had never yet held office he should not be allowed to dictate terms. But Randolph held out and won – Salisbury needed every vote in the House and could not afford to have Randolph’s followers against him. As a result, the Queen found it difficult to approve of the appointment, but since she could find no insuperable objection she agreed to it, hoping that ‘the India Council would be a check on him’.

  Before he could officially take up his new post, however, it was necessary for Randolph to resign his seat at Woodstock and stand again for election, and since he was, he wrote, ‘overwhelmed’ with work in London, Jennie offered to do the local canvassing for him. Her campaign speeches – written by herself – were the same brand of democratic Toryism that Randolph supported, and she was arguably the first woman of any significance to play such an active role in politics.

  Randolph’s sister Georgie,* who was a noted horsewoman and whip, brought down her famous tandem-drawn trap, decorated in Randolph’s racing colours of pink and brown, and in this smart rig the two women toured the countryside, local factories and even workers in the fields, day after day. Georgina had been brought up locally and knew many of the constituents by first name, but Jennie’s approach was more basic – she simply begged people to vote for Randolph. ‘Oh please won’t you vote for my husband?’ she would say endearingly. ‘I shall be so unhappy if he doesn’t get in.’ When some factory workers grumbled about her invading their work break asking for votes, Jennie replied, ‘But I want your votes, how am I to get them if I don’t ask you?’ – which simple logic seemed to placate the grumblers.

  Randolph won the Woodstock seat with an increased majority, but it had been no walkover, as in his previous contest; the two women had been obliged to fight hard for every vote. The main reason for this was that Blandford, a committed Liberal, had offered his support to the opposing candidate. In Woodstock the support of the Duke was no light matter. Seeing the success Jennie and Georgina were having, the other side hastily put up two women canvassers, but they competed in vain. Dinners at Blenheim during this period, when Jennie and Georgina were staying at the palace but working each day from an office in Woodstock, must have been lively. Jennie always considered that election contest as one of the most satisfying periods of her life.

  For Randolph, the time he spent at the India Office was a high-water mark. His first real test in office came when a palace coup took place in Burma. Thibaw, a younger son of the late King, massacred twenty-seven of his brothers together with their families. Two brothers escaped and applied to the British for asylum, but other members of the royal family remained in hiding and were in grave danger. The British declined to hand over the two princes to the self-declared King Thibaw, and demanded that the killing and intriguing stop at once. Queen Victoria refused to acknowledge the new King. The Foreign Office was deeply concerned that if not checked this affair could damage the stability of the Indian Empire, and Randolph was consulted for advice. He recommended that an ultimatum be issued to the Burmese, and that if it was rejected, force should be used ‘at once and in such strength as to be overwhelming from the very start’. This advice was carried out to the letter by the Viceroy, Lord Dufferin, and when the period of the ultimatum expired the British advanced immediately, occupying Mandalay. Within seven days they had taken the King prisoner, and annexed all of upper Burma. The cost of the campaign to the British in casualties was four men – one officer and three other ranks.

  Fulfilled and fully occupied, Randolph seemed not to notice that Jennie was deeply involved with Kinsky; they were undoubtedly discreet. Perhaps he simply accepted it. Possibly, he was just too busy to see what was under his nose, for the minority administration could not hold out for long and in November 1885 Salisbury was forced to call another general election.

  Since the previous election new legislation had given the vote to another two million householders and redrawn electoral boundaries. Woodstock was one of the constituencies swept away, so Randolph needed to look for another seat. He could have chosen a safe constituency but instead he arbitrarily decided to contest the Liberal stronghold at Birmingham, held by the great radical and reformer John Bright. Bright was arguably the only other man in Parliament who could lay claim to the title ‘the greatest orator of his generation’, and the contest was hard-fought.

  It was characteristically rash of Randolph to attempt to take a major safe seat from the opposing party, especially when he was in poor health and the election was fought in November and December, cold months in which to canvass. An acquaintance, Wilfrid Scawen Blunt,* wrote that when he visited him Randolph was quite exhausted and could only climb a short flight of stairs with great difficulty.17 Another wrote that Randolph was ‘in a very bad way, the action of his heart has given way and he takes a lot of digitalis’.18 As before, he was ably supported by Jennie, and this time even his mother the Dowager Duchess was brought in to help, sometimes sitting on the platform beside Randolph while Jennie went off to give a talk elsewhere. There was no question, this time, of Jennie wafting about on a tandem and flirting with prominent constituents for votes; it was a bitter contest, Randolph filling the halls every night with working men whom he could bring to their feet with his stirring rhetoric. He recognised before anyone else that the Conservative Party needed new policies that would appeal to the new grass-root voters who were not traditionally Tory supporters. And he was somehow able to convince these men† that he would better champion them than the Liberals, who claimed to be the party of the people. He did not win the seat, but to everyone’s surprise in this largely working-class constituency he greatly reduced Bright’s majority.

  It was during this time that the rapprochement occurred between the Prince of Wales and the Randolph Churchills. Immediately, the couple were bombarded with invitations, and they were never without somewhere to stay when Randolph travelled around the country speaking on social reform: ‘The Conservative Party will never exercise power until it has gained the confidence of the working classes,’ he opined, ‘and the working classes are quite determined to govern themselves, and they will not be either driven or hoodwinked by any class or class interests.’ His frequent castigation of the Tory Party as being led by a cabal of old aristocrats sounds strange from the son of a duke, but it won him many votes from the working people, who would shout encouragement such as ‘Give it to ’em hot, Randy!’19 It did not, of course, win him many supporters within the senior ranks of his own party.

  Ten-year-old Winston followed his father’s career closely through the newspapers, and was keenly disappointed when Lord Randolph failed to take Birmingham by only a slim margin. However, a fellow MP who was an admirer stood down from his own safe seat in South Paddington in Lord Randolph’s favour. The voters seemed to approve of the replacement, so he was back in Parliament the day after the election. The Liberals had assumed that the two million new voters from the working and lower-middle classes would return them with a good working majority, but they too were disappointed. In February 1886, Gladstone was again the leader of the party with the most votes, but there was no overall majority and the Irish Nationalists held the balance of power. Gladstone, a supporter of Home Rule, was backed by the Irish party led by Charles Stewart Parnell, but it was a shaky coalition at best and many Liberals were opposed to it. Randolph opposed Home Rule and his practical knowledge of the Irish question had enabled him to capitalise on what was a very confused situation, taking votes from the other side of the House to the maximum advantage of the Tories. That month he made the most memorable speech of his life on the subject and his deeply held opinions were summed up in his famous slogan, ‘Ulster will fight, and Ulster will be right
.’

  Randolph’s and Jennie’s busy life came to a halt a month later when Winston suddenly fell seriously ill. Predisposed to colds – he seemed to have one every month during the winter – one led to a lung infection which deteriorated to pneumonia. In those pre-antibiotic days pneumonia was a killer, and the boy’s life hung in the balance. On 14 March 1886 Dr Roose, whose practice was close to the school, was quickly called in. He advised in a note, ‘This report may appear grave yet it merely indicates the approach of the crisis which, please God, will result in an improved condition should the left lung remain free. I am in the next room and will watch the patient during the night – for I am anxious.’20

  Randolph and Jennie hurried down to Brighton with Nanny Everest. They were allowed only brief visits, to see their son from a distance, and on the following day Dr Roose isolated himself with his patient and wrote them a series of frightening progress notes: ‘I shall give up my London work and stay by the boy’, ‘We are still fighting the battle for your boy’, ‘Your boy is…holding his own.’21

  By the 17th, Winston seemed out of danger but was still very ill, and Dr Roose impressed upon Randolph and Jennie ‘the absolute necessity of quiet and sleep for Winston and that Mrs Everest should not be allowed in the sick room today – even the excitement of pleasure at seeing her might do harm! And I am so fearful of relapse.’22

  The Prince of Wales interrupted a levee to inquire about Winston’s progress, and on 24 March when writing to Lord Salisbury, Randolph mentioned that Winston had almost died the previous week but was now out of danger. In fact from now on it was all good news for Winston. Since Nanny Everest had firmly expressed the opinion that his illness was due to unhappiness as much as to anything else, his mother paid him a great deal more attention, even occasionally taking him around with her during the school holidays. Her friend the Duchess of Edinburgh (married to a son of the Queen) invited Winston to play with her children at Buckingham Palace, and again later that year while they were all visiting Cowes for Cowes Week, at Osborne House.

  After a short visit to Paris that spring with a party of friends which, somewhat surprisingly, included Count Kinsky, Randolph continued his constant attacks on Gladstone’s government, and at last his rhetoric bore fruit.

  There was another general election in June, and this time the Conservatives romped home with a clear majority of 118 over all other parties. This victory ended the Liberals’ long dominance of Parliament – they had held power for eighteen of the previous twenty-seven years but would hold it for only three of the next twenty. It was generally agreed that Randolph Churchill, with his able oratory and grasp of the Irish problem, had facilitated the rout and that this must be recognised. He was duly appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer and Leader of the House of Commons. When the Queen was told of the appointment by Lord Salisbury she wrote in her diary of the visit: ‘Lord Salisbury…feared Lord Randolph Churchill must be Chancellor of the Exchequer and Leader, which I did not like. He is so mad and odd & also has bad health.’23 She had not forgotten his behaviour over the Aylesford letters. All the same, Randolph was only thirty-seven and already being roundly tipped as the next Prime Minister. It was heady stuff for Jennie.

  By the end of the year Winston was back to normal health, writing confidently to Jennie about his progress in swimming: ‘I am in good health. It is superfluous to add that I am happy.’ As usual, most of his letters contained a request for a visit from his mother, or from Everest. He was much happier – that can be easily seen from the chatty weekly letters he sent, filled with details of concerts and plays, cricket matches and horse-riding, what he wanted for Christmas, almost always a request for money to build up his stamp collection or his platoons of lead soldiers, and inquiries after the various pet dogs that the family always owned.

  The seeds of his literary ability and his love of words can already be seen emerging from the ink-blotted copperplate script: ‘My Darling Mama, I hear that you are greatly incensed against me! I am very sorry – But I am hard at work & I am afraid some enemy hath sown tares in your mind.’24 ‘Please excuse all these blots; this ink is as thick as cream and I have only one flickering candle.’25 But what comes across most strongly from his weekly letters is that he was still a young boy who missed his family a good deal. In one letter to Randolph during 1885 in which he requested some autographs for his fellow pupils (which he secretly sold to increase his pocket money) he wrote, ‘I cannot think why you did not come to see me, while you were in Brighton…I suppose you were too busy to come.’ A year later he used almost the same words: ‘You never came to see me on Sunday when you were in Brighton.’26 He makes no complaint, but the disappointment rises up from the page. Eleven-year-old Winston could not know, of course, of the major problems that would soon lead to the end of everything for which his father had worked.

  There is no doubt that Randolph reached his exalted position at the early age of thirty-seven by sheer hard work, real ability and his genius for oratory. But he was always idiosyncratic in his behaviour, and – as the Queen had privately noted – he had been in poor health for some time. Now, suffering from persistent insomnia, he had become chronically irritable and irrational, living on his nerves and chain-smoking; he drove himself and his staff to exhaustion. His very able secretary collapsed from the strain of it all and was sent away to convalesce, but the man died two months later.

  Practically everyone now, especially Jennie and the Churchill family, regarded Randolph as a Prime-Minister-in-waiting. But his family did not know that during that autumn of 1886 Randolph had begun behaving very erratically at work, often losing his temper, and was increasingly viewed as a handicap by his Cabinet colleagues. He was not a team player and would never listen to the opinions of others. Having been raised to consider his views were important, he believed he was always right. His speeches were often critical of Salisbury’s administration. Even his friend Arthur Balfour could not help but be sadly aware of the damage Randolph was doing to his reputation, and to that of the government. Balfour wrote to his uncle Lord Salisbury: ‘At present we ought to do nothing but let Randolph hammer away…we should avoid all…“rows” until R. puts himself entirely and flagrantly in the wrong by some act of Party disloyalty which everybody can understand and nobody can deny.’

  Jennie, still immersed in her affair with Kinsky, had merely noticed a new coldness and a quickness to anger in Randolph, and that nothing she did could please him. It appears from extant correspondence between Jennie and others that during the autumn there was a major row, when Randolph moved out of 2 Connaught Place. Jennie must surely have suspected that he knew of her now long-standing affair with Kinsky, but when Lady Mandeville whispered to her that Randolph was involved with Gladys, Lady de Grey,* she concluded that this must be the reason for his behaviour. At no point did she consider, apparently, that there might be any connection between her own unfaithfulness and Randolph’s coldness. She probably had Blandford’s scandals in mind, and was in a state of great distress when she eventually confided in her mother-in-law, the Dowager Duchess Fanny. The two women had never been close, but to the credit of the Dowager Duchess she did try to help Jennie at this point.

  ‘I cannot make it out,’ Duchess Fanny replied, ‘have you told me everything? Can anything have got to his ears, or some diabolical mischief have been made?…Write to him…Even if he does not answer he must read your letter & you could tell him how miserable you are and appeal to him not to break your heart…I cannot understand his being so hard if he realises all you suffer. Perhaps he is full of other things. I cannot believe there is any other woman.’27 Duchess Fanny wrote again on 8 September 1886 at great length from her home at Huntercombe Manor near Maidenhead:

  Dearest Jennie,

  I thought so much about you…Rely on one thing…I may not be able to do any good but I will do no harm & not like my poor Cornelia put the fat in the fire in my desire to help you. Meantime I pray you [that] you do not breathe thoughts of revenge aga
inst anyone. It will bring you no blessing. Accept your present worry & anxiety patiently…avoiding the [company] of those friends who while ready enough to pander to you would gladly see you vexed or humbled as they no doubt are jealous of your success in society…I wish so much you had your sisters for they are to be trusted & I really would trust no one else. Try dear, to keep your troubles to yourself – this is hard for you as you have a telltale face – though you do tell little fibs at times.

  It is a horrid time of year for you to be in town…dear Jennie do come and vegetate quietly here. Bring Jack and we will try to make you as happy as possible. I am sure it will show R[andolph] you care for him & he has a good heart and will give you credit for it. If I were you I would not, if it killed me, let the heartless lot you live with generally see there was ‘a shadow of a shade of a shred’ wrong, only HE should know it & feel that it makes you miserable…He hates trouble…Oh dear Jennie you are going through a great crise of your life & on yourself will depend whether your hold & influence become greater than ever or not…I have no doubt of your success for I know in his heart he is truly fond of you – & I think I ought to know.

  Sunny came yesterday &…gives a good account of your boys. Perhaps it will be as well for you to go there [to Blenheim] for next Sunday. But pray be careful with Blandford. He is so indiscreet to say the least of it…I daresay there is some ground for Lady M[andeville]’s story. I can believe anything of those sorts of women. They seem to like to spoil a ménage. I pray that God may…watch over dear R. and keep him straight.28

  In another letter, after she had spoken to Randolph but avoided asking him outright if he was being unfaithful, Duchess Fanny cautioned Jennie about her affair with Kinsky:

  Life cannot be all pleasure, & oh dearest Jennie, before it is too late I pray you to [take] my advice to heart & give up that fast lot you live with, racing, flirting & gossiping…As to other matters I feel sure you have no cause for jealousy in that quarter. But I feel there is a great deal of talk & I fear, dear, you have not been able to conceal things as you should have done. Mrs Stirling, L[ady] Mandeville, L[ady] Londonderry and others have talked & it has come to me from Mary & my children. I do pray you to be very discreet this week & I hope and trust for both your sakes that nothing will be observed at Newmarket.29