
Ferdinand Mount was editor of the Times Literary Supplement from 1991 to 2002. His memoir, Cold Cream, is just out in paperback.
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Vol. 30 No. 6 · 20 March 2008
pages 10-12 | 3723 words

Adored Gazelle
Ferdinand Mount
- BuyBalfour: The Last Grandee by R.J.Q. Adams
Murray, 479 pp, £30.00, November 2007, ISBN 978 0 7195 5424 7
On a cycling holiday in Scotland A.C. Benson went to meet Arthur Balfour at Whittingehame. The prime minister was out practising on his private golf course. They saw him ‘approaching across the grass, swinging a golf club – in rough coat and waistcoat, the latter open; a cloth cap, flannel trousers; and large black boots, much too heavy and big for his willowy figure. He slouched and lounged as he walked. He gave us the warmest greeting, with a simple and childlike smile which is a great charm.’ Even across the width of a fairway, the author of ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ was already melting under the impact of A.J.B. Lord Vansittart, a junior at the Foreign Office when Balfour was foreign secretary, confessed that he found it ‘hopeless to avoid devotion’. The secret of Balfour’s charm was his nonchalance. Staying cool seemed to be his only rule. Vansittart thought that he viewed events ‘with the detachment of a choirboy at a funeral service’. Almost alone among politicians, he was indifferent to what his colleagues, the public or posterity thought of him or his policies. He kept no diary, made no attempt to preserve his papers.
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Letters
Vol. 30 No. 7 · 10 April 2008
From Karl Sabbagh
Ferdinand Mount mentions Balfour’s forgetfulness about names (LRB, 20 March). That wasn’t the only indication of his poor memory. J.M.N. Jeffries, a Daily Mail journalist with very good sources in Whitehall, told the following story in Palestine: The Reality (1939):
Once during 1919, in Paris, after an important meeting of the Council of Ten, next morning [Balfour] was shown by a secretary (my informant) the minutes of the previous day’s meeting. He perused them distantly like a bill of fare, and then inquired: ‘Does this purport to be what I said yesterday?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ said the secretary, ‘it is an exact draft, taken down as you spoke.’ ‘Well,’ said Balfour upon some further inspection of the document, ‘I wish it to be understood clearly that these words I appear to have used do not represent the opinion of His Majesty’s Government.’ Then, after a pause, as he dropped the minutes indifferently beside him, he added: ‘Nor, indeed, do they represent my own.’
Karl Sabbagh
Newbold on Stour, Warwickshire