Chamberlain Grilled

A tall Briton, one of whose haggard eyesockets still gripped his monocle as might a band of steel, descended at London from a boat train last week and grimly faced the assembled press. "Gentlemen," he rapped, "I hear that I am going to be executed on the day after tomorrow. I shall wait until I ascend the scaffold before saying anything."

Thus, with his nerves jangling and raw after the adjournment of the League without admitting Germany (TIME, March 29), Sir Austen Chamberlain, the erstwhile "hero of Locarno" (TIME, Nov. 2 et seq.), returned to hear the jibe that "he strangled the Locarno peace dove with his own hands."* Cheerlessly Sir Austen sought his home. Two days' rest were vouchsafed to him. He slept, thumbed the recently published Intimate Papers of Colonel House for relaxation, and drafted with a vitriolic pen his "speech of accounting" to the House of Commons.

"Execution." Mr. David Lloyd George was chosen by all the opposition parties to lead the attack upon Conservative Goliath Baldwin's Government. With well pondered malice, the fiery David twirled his verbal sling and loosed a stinging pebble: a resolution to reduce Sir Austen's salary. Quoth slinger George: "The Geneva fiasco has created a bad impression abroad . . . led to a very unpleasant discussion in the U. S. Senate [see NATIONAL AFFAIRS] . . .[and] probably antagonized the U. S. as nothing else could have done." Continuing at length but in choppy and disjointed style, Mr. George then slung all the mud he could from every possible angle. Observers, somewhat nauseated, regretted the absence of even one really telling jibe in the Welshman's best style.

"Scaffold." Sir Austen "ascended the scaffold," to reply with extraordinary bitterness:

"Mr. Lloyd George was a great War Minister. He was not equally successful as a Peace Minister. I think the House must have some perception even in the speech which he has just delivered of why he failed. . . . He has never been able to conceive of any way of making friends with your enemies except by making enemies of your friends. That, in a sentence, is wherein he and I differ.

"I deny having given any secret pledge respecting Poland to the French Premier. . . . Subject to my discretion, I was instructed by the Government to make the best arrangements I could. . . .

After touching upon the break-down at Geneva, Sir Austen cried with vigor:

"By common agreement [TIME, March 29] the Germans and ourselves hold fast to Locarno. We are resolved to maintain the agreement and maintain its spirit. The danger that that newly begun work of reconciliation should be interrupted or broken down has been averted."

He concluded: "I have held this high office for almost exactly fifteen months. I found when I entered upon my duties France and Great Britain still suspicious and estranged, the work of reconciliation with Germany barely commenced. My consolation will be that I leave things better than I found them. . . .

"And, if these are to be my last words as Foreign Secretary, I would add that the influence of Great Britain stands higher than it has stood at any time since the War. . . ."

Ramsay Rampant. As Sir Austen resumed his seat, famed Laborite Leader Ramsay Macdonald pounced venomously upon his last words: "I am very much inclined to allow the laurels which the right honorable gentleman has just placed upon his own head to remain there without question. . .

"I never heard a more self-complacent speech in my life.

"The most charitable thing I can say about it is that he evidently reads no newspapers and does not know opinion in other nations. . . .

"We have just witnessed one of the most tragic failures British diplomacy has ever met.

"It is doubtful now whether the League will survive."

Baldwin Soothing. Since the debate was waxing toward midnight, Premier Stanley Baldwin arose to turn on the Government's Conservative steam roller in defense of Sir Austen. Humorously he twitted Mr. George with "clothing himself in an air of lachrymosity" and basing his accusations upon "necromantic divinations of conversations which never occurred" (i.e., between Briand and Chamberlain). Finally he spread soothing words as with a trowel; implied that the League was none the worse for its "manifestation of human nature not wholly of a happy kind."

The fireworks over, a vote was taken. As the Baldwin steam roller crunched, Sir Austen was sustained 325 to 136. None the less, his prestige has undoubtedly suffered. Quoth a wag: "Sir Austen may yet drown in his own pail of white-wash."

*Because the Locarno Pacts do not come into effect until Germany enters the League; and because Sir Austen is suspected of having secretly promised Premier Briand to help "pack" the League Council against Germany. As everyone knows, the ensuing squabble over Council seats resulted in the breakdown of the League session specially called to admit Germany and the postponement of the whole matter until the regular September League session.