March 18, 2015

Finest Hour 160, Autumn 2013

Page 32

By Harry Flood Byrd, Jr.

NORTH AMERICAN CHURCHILL CONFERENCE, RICHMOND, VIRGINIA, 2 NOVEMBER 1991

“HIS SUBJECT WAS THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY AND THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR. FOR FIFTY MINUTES HE TOLD ME MORE ABOUT THE HISTORY OF THE AREA I HAD LIVED IN ALL MY LIFE THAN I HAD EVER KNOWN. HE KNEW MORE ABOUT THE DETAILS, PURPOSES AND TACTICS OF STONEWALL JACKSON’S VALLEY CAMPAIGNS THAN HAD EVER COME TO MY ATTENTION.”

2024 International Churchill Conference

Join us for the 41st International Churchill Conference. London | October 2024

More

it was in 1929, at the Governor’s Mansion in Richmond, that I first met Winston Churchill. I saw him last in 1951 for a delightful four hours at his office at the House of Commons.

As an author, lecturer and historian, Mr. Churchill had come to Virginia in 1929 to study the Civil War battlefields around Richmond. His host was my father, Governor Byrd; his battlefield guide was Dr. Douglas Southall Freeman, editor of the Richmond News-Leader and perhaps America’s foremost authority on Robert E. Lee and Confederate military strategy. Years later, Sir Winston was to write that the American Civil War was the “noblest and least avoidable of all the great mass conflicts.”

Churchill spent ten days in what he called, with considerable personal amusement, “the rebel capital.” He told the Governor that he had no political future and regarded his political career as over. Now he was spending his time writing and lecturing. Then aged fifty-four, he had been a Member of Parliament for twenty-six years, and had served in the cabinets of three prime ministers: Asquith, Lloyd George and Baldwin. He had served as President of the Board of Trade, Home Secretary, First Lord of the Admiralty, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, Minister of Munitions, Secretary of State for War and Air, Colonial Secretary and Chancellor of the Exchequer.

I remember vividly my first sight of the famous Englishman. It was the night of his arrival at the Governor’s Mansion, after he had dressed for a state dinner given for him by Governor and Mrs. Byrd. My mother’s cousin, Gray Williams, and I, both of us fourteen, were standing at the foot of the steps to greet Mr. Churchill as he descended from the floor above.

R. Gray Williams, later one of Virginia’s most prominent lawyers, who would twice decline appointment to the state Supreme Court, was in a tuxedo, preparing to act as host until Governor Byrd made his appearance. Mr. Churchill said not as much as hello to either of us. Mistaking my mother’s cousin for the butler, the honored guest said in his fine oratorical voice: “My man, will you fetch me a newspaper?”

Gray said, “Of course, Mr. Churchill,” and the two of us walked a block to the Richmond Hotel to purchase the Richmond News-Leader. When Gray handed it to the British visitor, Mr. Churchill tipped Gray twenty-five cents. Gray kept that quarter until his death.

Those were the days of Prohibition in the United States, but since Mr. Churchill was accustomed to unhindered daily consumption of alcohol, my father was in a quandary. As Governor he did not want to break the law. His close friend, John Stewart Bryan, publisher of the News-Leader, solved the problem by quietly and discreetly keeping Mr. Churchill supplied.

Foremost among Mr. Churchill’s many notable characteristics was his bulldog tenacity. This, along with his ability to rally his war-weary people, was vital in saving England during those dark days between 1940 and 1945. His tenacity was apparent during his Virginia visit. At dinner on the night of his arrival, he asked for English mustard. His hostess sent his request to the kitchen, only to be informed that there was none in the house. Mrs. Byrd told Mr. Churchill of her predicament and, trying to pass it off lightly, said she would be glad to send someone to the store if he would like. He said yes, that is what he would like! So Mrs. Byrd slowed the dinner to a snail’s pace while I was dispatched to the grocery.

Knowing what he wanted and when he wanted it served Churchill well in war and politics, but not as a guest of my parents. During his visit he made a habit of specifying the time he would like his meals; then he began to supervise the menu. He also had a habit of wandering around the house wearing only his underclothes. My mother would have been happy had her visitor received an emergency recall to Parliament. I was standing beside her when we all waved Mr. Churchill goodbye. I remember her words to my father as his car pulled out of the driveway: “Harry, don’t you ever invite that man back.”

Winston Churchill’s ability shone most brilliantly in periods of crisis. He was the first prominent leader to recognize the potential danger of Adolf Hitler. His was the clearest and most persistent voice against the Chamberlain policies in the late 1930s. For years he stood virtually alone and unheeded, and he always regretted that failed campaign. In his famous speech at Westminster College in Fulton, Missouri in March 1946, he recalled:

Last time I saw it all coming, and cried aloud to my own fellow-countrymen and to the world, but no one paid any attention. Up till the year 1933 or even 1935, Germany might have been saved from the awful fate which has overtaken her and we might all have been spared the miseries Hitler let loose upon mankind. There never was a war in all history easier to prevent by timely action than the one which has just desolated such great areas of the globe. It could have been prevented without the firing of a single shot, and Germany might be powerful, prosperous and honored today, but no one would listen and one by one we were all sucked into the awful whirlpool.

In 1938 four world leaders met in Munich: Mussolini, Hitler, Daladier and Chamberlain. Their signed agreement approved of Germany taking over a part of Czechoslovakia, after already having acquired the Rhineland and Austria. Neville Chamberlain, returning to England from Munich, proclaimed “peace for our time.” He was acclaimed a hero, for the most part throughout the world: the man of the hour, the peacemaker.

The only significant voice of opposition was that of an old bulldog who thundered that the Munich Agreement would not lead to peace, but to war. Countering Churchill’s arguments that Hitler’s appetite for domination could not be appeased, Chamberlain replied that Hitler had signed an agreement forswearing any further demands. Less than a year later, Germany invaded Poland, and World War II was on. Churchill joined Chamberlain’s war cabinet and, on May 10th 1940, succeeded him as prime minister.

It is perhaps too much to say that Churchill saved Britain. It is not too much to say that he did more to that end than any single individual. But I do want to say this about Mr. Chamberlain. I am convinced that Neville Chamberlain was just as patriotic, just as sincere, just as motivated as Churchill. As I see it, it was not a question of motive but of judgment—a question of what policies or principles would stand the test of time. Mr. Churchill’s judgment and foresight led to one conclusion, Mr. Chamberlain’s to another.

Having been a politician for virtually all of my adult life, I am fascinated by what happened to Churchill in the summer of 1945. Germany having been defeated in May, the world leaders gathered at Potsdam: an American president who only weeks before, without essential background, had assumed the responsibilities of office; the Soviet Union’s determined and crafty Joseph Stalin; and Britain’s highly experienced Churchill. It was those three who began the task of reshaping the peace-time world.

Partway through the conference, Churchill left for London, expecting to return as soon as the election votes were counted. But the nation that had turned to him in the darker times deserted him, and after the vote tally the new prime minister, Clement R. Attlee, returned to Potsdam in his place.

In 1940 Churchill had bluntly promised his people nothing but “blood, toil, tears and sweat.” They had responded; but by 1945 they wanted something more comfortable and, war-weary, they listened to the siren song of the socialists, embracing what Mr. Churchill de- scribed as “the philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy.” Churchill went back to his painting, to his writing, and to leading the Opposition in Parliament.

it was in this role that I found him in the summer of 1951, on the eve of his return as prime minister. I was doing some work in Europe for my own and the Gannett newspapers in New York and Chicago. I had been in London quite a while seeking a meeting with Churchill.  It was the 100th anniversary of Reuters, the British News Agency. Mrs. Byrd and I were invited to the celebratory dinner attended by Princess Elizabeth. Mr. Churchill, of course, was also there, but it was not the occasion for an interview.

When I finally received an affirmative invitation to meet him privately, the date coincided with a dinner in my honor being planned by a friend in Scotland. I telephoned Paul Miller, president of Gannett, to say I could not keep the date with Churchill because my Scottish friend had gone to so much trouble, and I would feel badly if I were not present.

Paul exploded, and I mean exploded: “You are fired—now and forever. What a damn fool thing to turn down an inter- view with perhaps the most important man in the world, an interview almost every journalist is seeking but can’t get!” I calmed him down with difficulty, saying I was working with Mr. Churchill’s secretary, hopefully to find another time. Fortunately, it worked out, so Paul and I lived happily ever after.

It was 2 pm when I entered Mr. Churchill’s office in the House of Commons—and nearly an hour before he stopped talking. His subject (clearly in my honor), was the Shenandoah Valley and the American Civil War. For fifty minutes he told me more about the history of the area I had lived in all my life than I had ever known. Particularly, he knew more about the details, purposes and tactics of Stonewall Jackson’s valley campaigns than had ever come to my attention.

And all of his monologue was spontaneous! What he had to say he said with relish, glee, and great enthusiasm. His discourse was not only stimulating, but fascinating. He added that he hoped to visit the Shenandoah battlefields before he died. In the event, that was not to be, but I couldn’t help thinking, “why do I know so little about the great events which took place on the soil I’ve trod for nearly thirty-six years?”

Finally he left the Shenandoah and Stonewall Jackson—during which time I had said practically nothing. We then began to discuss the topics of the day and government policy. There was much dissatisfaction in the United States with President Truman, who was at a low point in his presidency. This prompted me to say I thought the British Parliamentary system, where the leader of government could be changed within a short time span, had much to commend it over the American system.

I shall never forget Mr. Churchill’s reply: “Ah yes, Mr. Byrd, but don’t forget this—the great strength of the American system is that the forty-eight states, acting through their own legislatures, can, to a very considerable degree, determine their own affairs.” Then he added: “You in America are not centralized like we are in England.”

Never had I heard such an eloquent description and defense of States’ rights. I was fascinated that a world statesman 3000 miles from our shores should recognize and proclaim what so many Americans at that time did not, and even now do not realize: the danger of a government too highly centralized, something Thomas Jefferson warned against 150 years earlier.

in discussing Parliament and British government, Mr. Churchill recalled that the historic Commons Chamber had been severely damaged by German bombs in May 1941. In rebuilding it, he reminded me, his colleagues had wanted to enlarge and modernize it. Mr. Churchill allowed, however, that he “persevered” (to use his own word) until the Commons was restored in its original form.

Should I ever have occasion to build a legislative chamber, he said, it should not be semi-circular, like we have in the United States; it should be oblong, putting one party on one side and the other party on the other, and making them stay there. I didn’t remind him that he himself had changed parties twice.*

The second piece of advice was never to have a Chamber large enough to seat all its members, lest it be less than half full most of the time. (The Commons has over 600 members but only 400 seats.) Make them pile in, Churchill told me—stand, sit on the floor or on each other’s lap. This, he deemed the more democratic way. He added, “Besides, it is much easier to speak to a crowded Chamber.” It occurred to me when he said this, a man whose eloquence did so much to rally the people during their darkest hours, that he was thinking not so much as an architect, but as an orator, of which he was England’s greatest.

What a fascinating character he was. Elected to Parliament at only twenty-five, he sought to dominate the senior Members of Parliament and was lecturing the prime minister before he was thirty. By forty he had held three Cabinet posts and, as First Lord of the Admiralty, he championed the World War I Dardanelles campaign, a disaster that temporarily ended his meteoric rise.

He was a Member of Parliament over sixty-two years between 1901 and his retirement in 1964, but with two short lapses in 1908 and 1922-24. Only one person topped his consecutive years of service: an American, Carl Hayden of Arizona, holds the record. Hayden a Democrat, served fourteen years in the House of Representatives and forty-two in the Senate, fifty-six consecutive years. I served with Carl during the last four years of his tenure.

During my interview with Churchill, Mrs. Byrd had waited for me in the outer office. When I introduced them he asked whether either of us had been through the House of Commons. No, we said. He said, “I’ll give you a personally conducted tour.” And so he did.

There we stood, Mr. Churchill, my wife and me, alone in that small chamber which had played such a famous role in the advance of liberty. I knew this would remain one of the most cherished experiences of my life. Forty years later, it still is.

Churchill famously summarized a noble creed for a nation and individual: “In War: Resolution; in Defeat: Defiance; in Victory: Magnanimity; in Peace: Goodwill.” To this may I add, in reference to Sir Winston Churchill himself: “In History: Indelible Impression.”

Until his death this year (page 7), Senator Byrd was the oldest living U.S. senator. His remarks were delivered at a special North American Churchill conference, our annual international conference having been held that year in Melbourne, during the 1991 Churchill Tour of Australia.

* WSC was well aware of his floor-crossing when he spoke to this subject on 28 October 1943: “The party system is much favoured by the oblong form of Chamber. It is easy for an individual to move through those insensible gradations from Left to Right, but the act of crossing the floor is one which requires serious consideration. I am well informed on this matter, for I have accomplished that difficult process, not only once but twice.”