A QUEER MIXTURE.

Waimate Daily Advertiser, Volume XXIII, 7 August 1922, Page 1

A QUEER MIXTURE.

THE PARADOX OF BOTTOMLEY. (By Dr Ellis F. Powell.) Horatio Bottomtey was one of the most conspicuious offshoots of the iwno clastic movement of forty years' ago which had Charles Bradlaugh for its centre and inspiration. Bottomtey himself was intellect® Uy the son of Bradilaugh, and he phver hesitated to acknowledge the pateriiity. He collected and treasured portraits of Bradlaugh so that he might be n niinded of Ji:'s model at every turn.

Moreover, JJottomtey was a parados like his master. He inherited his cru--ading spirit, his absolute fearlessness, Lis willingness to take risks of any magnitude, such as would have terrified the jj-clinary humdrum citizen. Both men a ere conspicuoiuisly lacking in reverence for conventions and traditions to which humanity never tires of rendering homage. Bottomtey was, in fact, the queerest mixture of inconsistency. He would move a vast audience to tears by ,-lofty .and impassioned declamation, in his wonderful'silky voice, on some sacred or patriotic subject. Half an tour later, behind the scenes, he would dte- ■ litre his scepticism about hie own avowals, and express amusement at the susceptibility of his hearers. Even in his personal habits and surroundings Bottomtey was the same puzzling amalgam of incompatible characteristics. Busts and pictures of the lenders of humanity adorned the niches and walls of his offices and house.; but behind you (I had the experience myself in his drawing-room) a profane parrot shouted, “D your eyes!”—and 1 did not stop at a single utterance, either.

The parrot’s owner has been known io begin the day with a pair of kippe rs and a bottle of champagne—surely t. e most extraordinary assortment heianr-and patrician' nourishment that ever decorated a breakfast table. His fondness for champagne grew with the years, so that the huge purchase of it (£llOO worth at a time), recorded m the evidence in the recent case, astonished nobody. He would not, as a rule, go beyond the middle of the morning without a bottle of champagne, and the

only occasion when I myself have ever touched it before lunch occurred when I had half a glass out of his second bottle as the noontide hour was striking on the office clock.

Speaking with Bottomley 1 and Ben Tillet at an Albert Hall demonstration, I was barred', on my arrival before the meeting, from access to the speakers’ parlor, I was informed that “Mr Bote tomley was engaged in important private business, and could not on any account be disturbed.” As the moment approached for opening the proceedings, I insisted upon interrupting his privacy, in order to see the agenda, and discover whether I was to speak first or last. ' I found that the “important private business” was a magnum of champagne which Bottomley was discussing with the late “Charlie” Palmer, M.P., then assistant editor of John Bull. Let me add, in all candor, that I had a glass of the “fizz” myself, though Tillett went “dry” ijs far as I knew.

In earlier years Bottomley had no regular religious belief. Since the war he professed that his opinions had undergone a. change, and certainly many cf his articles supported that view. And

from the very beginning of his career he tolieved that he had a guardian spirit who would always stand between him and disaster. ' Unfortunately, that belief bred a characteristic recklessness of personal and financial policy. He would take up big and expensive schemes at a moment’s notice, financing them by the first means that came to his hand, without any reflection upon the- ultimate responsibilities he was incurring. He believed that “money has np l earmark,” and the principle was like a malignant will-o’-the-wisp to him. Content with the enjoyment and the excitement of to-day, he never thought of to-morrow. He left the future to bis guardian spirit. 'So it was that latterly, and particularly in his dealing with the Victory Bond Club moneys, he developed a financial improvidence, which seemed to border upon recklessness, and at length landed him in irretrievable disaster.

In recent years he would question me, with an earnest wistfulness that was almost pathetic, about man’s survival of death. Did I really believe in it, as my speeches and writings indicated? Was I sure I had not been, fooled? Moro than once have I asked

him whether, after thirty years of personal intimacy, he thought I was a likely person to be fooled with regard to a subject of such transcendant importance. He would express his satisfaction—and then assure me that the matter was of no immediate moment, since he was good for another twenty years at least. So much he told me less than twelve months ago. If he had gone to the Bar in his early days Bottomley would have been Lord Chancellor. Among professional lawyers there was none who could stand against him. At one stage of his career he decided to become a barrister, but it was hinted to him by the Benchers of the Inns of Court that there might be difficulties about the call, and he abandoned the idea. The Benchers are not compellable to “call” anybody, even if he has passed his examinations. But even as a, layman Bottomley's skill with the jury was colossal. His keen legal vision was not limited to a knowledge of his own capacity. He knew promise where he saw it. At the • very beginning of Mr F. E. Smith’s career, Bottomtey recognised his talents, and gave him the briefs which formed the foundation stone of one of the most conspicuous successes in the legal history of our time. Indirectly, Bottomtey also influenced another distinguished legal career. In the Hansard Union he was prominently associated with the late Sir Henry Isaacs and the late Mr “Jim” Isaacs' — the former the uncle, the' latter the father, of the present Lord) Reading. When the Isaacs brothers and Bottomley himself appeared at the Old Bailey as defendants in the Hansard Union conspiracy case, Bottomiey’s successful conduct of the defence won a warm encomium from the late Mr Justice Hawkins, who tried' the case. In fact, as a mark of his admiration, he bequeathed to Bottomley the wig he wore when he tried the case. Brought into intimate association with the Isaacs family by community of interest, in the Hansard Union affair , Bottomtey was abte ■to give many a hint and many an encouraging word to Rufus Isaacs in his early days as an unknown junior. Among those who will experience' a regretful sympathy at the finish of BottomJey’s career the present X icerojl of Lidia will certainly be numbered.

I have known both men very well indeed, and I speak with knowledge.