Neville Chamberlain
Winston Churchill
November 12, 1940, House of Commons
Since we last met, the House has suffered a very grievous loss in the
death of one of its most distinguished Members, and of a statesman and
public servant who, during the best part of three memorable years, was
first Minister of the Crown.
The fierce and bitter controversies
which hung around him in recent times were hushed by the news of his
illness and are silenced by his death. In paying a tribute of respect and
of regard to an eminent man who has been taken from us, no one is obliged
to alter the opinions which he has formed or expressed upon issues which
have become a part of history; but at the Lychgate we may all pass our own
conduct and our own judgments under a searching review. It is not given to
human beings, happily for them, for otherwise life would be intolerable,
to foresee or to predict to any large extent the unfolding course of
events. In one phase men seem to have been right, in another they seem to
have been wrong. Then again, a few years later, when the perspective of
time has lengthened, all stands in a different setting. There is a new
proportion. There is another scale of values. History with its flickering
lamp stumbles along the trail of the past, trying to reconstruct its
scenes, to revive its echoes, and kindle with pale gleams the passion of
former days. What is the worth of all this? The only guide to a man is his
conscience; the only shield to his memory is the rectitude and sincerity
of his actions. It is very imprudent to walk through life without this
shield, because we are so often mocked by the failure of our hopes and the
upsetting of our calculations; but with this shield, however the fates may
play, we march always in the ranks of honour.
It fell to Neville
Chamberlain in one of the supreme crises of the world to be contradicted
by events, to be disappointed in his hopes, and to be deceived and cheated
by a wicked man. But what were these hopes in which he was disappointed?
What were these wishes in which he was frustrated? What was that faith
that was abused? They were surely among the most noble and benevolent
instincts of the human heart-the love of peace, the toil for peace, the
strife for peace, the pursuit of peace, even at great peril, and certainly
to the utter disdain of popularity or clamour. Whatever else history may
or may not say about these terrible, tremendous years, we can be sure that
Neville Chamberlain acted with perfect sincerity according to his lights
and strove to the utmost of his capacity and authority, which were
powerful, to save the world from the awful, devastating struggle in which
we are now engaged. This alone will stand him in good stead as far as what
is called the verdict of history is concerned.
But it is also a
help to our country and to our whole Empire, and to our decent faithful
way of living that, however long the struggle may last, or however dark
may be the clouds which overhang our path, no future generation of
English-speaking folks-for that is the tribunal to which we appeal-will
doubt that, even at a great cost to ourselves in technical preparation, we
were guiltless of the bloodshed, terror and misery which have engulfed so
many lands and peoples, and yet seek new victims still. Herr Hitler
protests with frantic words and gestures that he has only desired peace.
What do these ravings and outpourings count before the silence of Neville
Chamberlain's tomb? Long, hard, and hazardous years lie before us, but at
least we entered upon them united and with clean hearts.
I do not
propose to give an appreciation of Neville Chamberlain's life and
character, but there were certain qualities always admired in these
Islands which he possessed in an altogether exceptional degree. He had a
physical and moral toughness of fibre which enabled him all through his
varied career to endure misfortune and disappointment without being unduly
discouraged or wearied. He had a precision of mind and an aptitude for
business which raised him far above the ordinary levels of our generation.
He had a firmness of spirit which was not often elated by success, seldom
downcast by failure, and never swayed by panic. when, contrary to all his
hopes, beliefs and exertions, the war came upon him, and when, as he
himself said, all that he had worked for was shattered, there was no man
more resolved to pursue the unsought quarrel to the death. The same
qualities which made him one of the last to enter the war, made him one of
the last who would quit it before the full victory of a righteous cause
was won.
I had the singular experience of passing in a day from
being one of his most prominent opponents and critics to being one of his
principal lieutenants, and on another day of passing from serving under
him to become the head of a Government of which, with perfect loyalty, he
was content to be a member. Such relationships are unusual in our public
life. I have before told the House how on the morrow of the Debate which
in the early days of May challenged his position, he declared to me and a
few other friends that only a National Government could face the storm
about to break upon us, and that if he were an obstacle to the formation
of such a Government, he would instantly retire. Thereafter, he acted with
that singleness of purpose and simplicity of conduct which at all times,
and especially in great times, ought to be the ideal of us
all.
When he returned to duty a few weeks after a most severe
operation, the bombardment of London and of the seat of Government had
begun. I was a witness during that fortnight of his fortitude under the
most grievous and painful bodily afflictions, and I can testify that,
although physically only the wreck of a man, his nerve was unshaken and
his remarkable mental faculties unimpaired.
After he left the
Government he refused all honours. He would die like his father, plain Mr.
Chamberlain. I sought permission of the King, however, to have him
supplied with the Cabinet papers, and until a few days of his death he
followed our affairs with keenness, interest and tenacity. He met the
approach of death with a steady eye. If he grieved at all, it was that he
could not be a spectator of our victory; but I think he died with the
comfort of knowing that his country had, at least, turned the
corner.
At this time our thoughts must pass to the gracious and
charming lady who shared his days of triumph and adversity with a courage
and quality the equal of his own. He was, like his father and his brother
Austen before him, a famous Member of the House of Commons, and we here
assembled this morning, Members of all parties, without a single
exception, feel that we do ourselves and our country honour in saluting
the memory of one whom Disraeli would have called an "English worthy."
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