Charlie Masterman was a grandson
of my 3x great uncle Thomas Gurney. A biography of him by Eric Hopkins
published in 1999 is subtitled The
Splendid Failure, which is a bit harsh! If he didn’t fulfill all of his huge potential as a
politician and author, he certainly accomplished more than most men.
Charles Frederick Gurney Masterman (1873-1927)
I wouldn’t dream of attempting to
cover his whole life in a single post here, or even just the achievements of
his political or journalistic careers. He was an occasional MP from 1906, in
and out of Parliament and even Government on a regular basis only because he
was unable to find a safe Liberal seat. (There were still such things before
the First World War, before the foundation of the Labour Party.)
At the outbreak of the war he was
serving as Financial Secretary to the Treasury, but with a background in
journalism he was appointed as head of the new War Propaganda Bureau. One of
his successes there was the introduction of the concept of the War Artist. In the
last two years of the war he sent more than ninety artists to make a visual
record of events in Europe. Although there were
limitations on what they could exhibit during the war, they were given a fairly
free hand in what and where they could paint. The long term legacy of the artists,
who included Stanley Spencer, Paul Nash and Augustus John, is an important one.
We Are Making A New
World (1918)
Paul Nash’s ironic title for a painting of No Man’s Land
Charlie’s first move at the Bureau
was to recruit Britain’s
most talented writers to the cause, among them H.G. Wells, Sir Arthur Conan
Doyle and John Buchan (coincidentally a distant relative by marriage). Again,
they were given pretty free rein in their written discourses on the war.
Masterman took the view that as long as their facts were accurate, the facts
spoke for themselves and that the public would be able to make up its own mind.
Other disagreed, arguing that (as one writer put it), “the allied case should
be as vociferously and as duplicitously made as the German [one].”
Under Masterman’s direction, “over
two million books in seventeen languages were published in the first two years
of the war, almost entirely without the readers’ knowledge that these were
sponsored by the British government.”
Charles Masterman himself had
literary aspirations. He had been editor of the literary review Granta while at
Cambridge in the 1890s; in the early 20th century he was the
literary editor of the Daily News; and before entering politics he had
published several impassioned books about the social state of the country
notably 1909’s Condition of England.
Many of the writers whom her recruited for propaganda purposes were already
acquaintances or even friends.
Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874-1836)
photographed in 1905 by Alvin Langdon Coburn
G.K. Chesterton was one such. Perhaps it was Masterman’s 1909 book which brought the two liberal thinkers
together although it feels as if they were older friends than that. In 1910, Chesterton dedicated his new book What’s Wrong With The World to his friend with a lengthy and
humorous introduction “to C.F.G. Masterman, M.P. – My Dear Charles.”
It’s a delightful few hundred
words, packed with the Chesterton wit. It begins with smut: “I originally called
this book What Is Wrong [and a]
number of social misunderstandings arose from the use of the title. Many a mild
lady visitor opened her eyes when I remarked casually, “I have been doing What
Is Wrong all this morning.” And one minister of religion moved quite sharply
when I told him … that I had to run upstairs and do what was wrong, but should
be down again in a minute.”
Chesterton goes on to praise the
writing of Masterman, “one who has recorded two or three of the really
impressive visions of the moving millions of England,
You are the only man alive who can make the map of England
crawl with life.” In addressing the reason for dedicating the book to Charlie,
he writes, “I do it because I think you politicians are none the worse for a
few inconvenient ideals; but more because you will recognise the many arguments we
have had. And perhaps you will agree that the thread of comradeship and conversation
must be protected because it is so frivolous. It is exactly because argument is
idle that men must take it seriously; for when shall we have so delightful a difference
again? But most of all I offer it to you because there exists not only
comradeship, but a very different thing, called friendship; an agreement under
all the arguments and a thread which, please God, will never break.”
Dust jacket for Walter S. Masterman’s The Wrong Letter
the US edition published by Dutton in 1926
That bond of friendship was
strong enough for Chesterton to write another preface 20 years later, for the
first pulp fiction novel by Charlie’s brother Walter S. Masterman. Chesterton, who
as author of the Father Brown mysteries was no mean crimewriter himself, is
again lavish in his admiration, finding (if I’m honest) far more than I did to
praise about the new novelist’s first faltering steps in fiction. Walter
definitely got better with practice!
I had the very great pleasure of
speaking to Charlie’s son last year, and of sending him a copy of the
Chesterton dedication to his father which he had never seen. Were Charlie my
own father, I would be as proud as anything for him to have such a friendship
as Chesterton’s.
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