Grand Old Man/Great Old Book
Roy Jenkins’ biography on William Ewart Gladstone is great in both scale and achievement. After having recently re-read Jenkins’ epic Churchill I turned my attention to Gladstone. I can say that I wasn’t disappointed, Jenkins’ expansive political knowledge and beguile pros kept me glued to this book, which I read at the rate Gladstone himself would. Before this I had little knowledge of the Grand Old Man (GOM), expect that he was a Victorian titan and great rival of Disraeli. However I’ve walked away with an intricate knowledge of his personality, family, beliefs and political triumphs and tragedies.
Jenkins, himself no ordinary historian as he was a senior Cabinet minister, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and later President of the European Commission and as such, brings an insider’s understanding to the political world Gladstone inhabited. That gives the book a rare authority. He understands not just what Gladstone did, but what it felt like to be inside the swirl of ambition, reform, and responsibility that defined nineteenth-century British politics.
Gladstone was a man of courage and principle, who did make mistakes, most famously his decision to delay the relieving of Gordon at Khartoum. He also had strange habits, his self flagellation, night walks and obsessions with different women all of which fall into his character as a religious man fighting natural urges. However he also had courage, great oratorical skill and masterful political outlook, such as his support for Home Rule or his budget of 1860. Modern politics is intellectually impotent, we are missing a great statesman such as Gladstone in today’s modern world.
Jenkins’s covers the huge topic of Gladstone’s career, including his four premierships, countless reforms, bitter party splits, and the long-running Irish question, all without losing sight of the man himself. Gladstone’s intense religiosity, his moral earnestness, and his lifelong internal battles (spiritual, sexual, and political) are rendered with empathy and nuance. Jenkins neither glorifies nor condemns; instead, he allows the contradictions to coexist, giving us a multidimensional figure whose flaws are as revealing as his virtues.
Jenkins’s prose style is my favourite part of the book. His writing is urbane, witty, and often dazzlingly elegant. There’s a certain old-fashioned charm to his phrasing, the kind of polished, almost conversational intelligence that makes even dense political passages a pleasure to read. His command of parliamentary history and his ability to sketch character in a few deft lines are reminiscent of a seasoned novelist.
Finally, Jenkins’s historical judgment feels trustworthy. He places Gladstone in his proper context, as a moral reformer in an age of empire and industrial upheaval, but also as a man whose conscience could both elevate and obstruct his politics. Jenkins recognises that Gladstone’s high-mindedness was both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness, and he handles that paradox superbly.
That said, Gladstone is not an easy read. It’s dense and demanding, especially for readers without a grounding in 19th-century British politics. Jenkins assumes familiarity with parliamentary procedure, Victorian institutions, and a dizzying array of political figures. The narrative sometimes slows under the weight of detail, and the casual reader might find themselves lost among Cabinet reshuffles and Irish bills.
I found that Jenkins is a little too sympathetic to his subject. His admiration for Gladstone’s intellect and moral energy occasionally softens the edges of criticism, particularly when it comes to Gladstone’s self-righteousness or his intrusive moralism in public life. Compared to Robert Blake’s Disraeli (a natural counterpoint), Jenkins’s Gladstone feels slightly more reverential, though never uncritical.
Despite these challenges, Gladstone stands as one of the finest political biographies ever written. It’s richly detailed, beautifully written, and intellectually generous. Jenkins captures not just a man but an era — the high seriousness, the moral passion, the sense that politics could still be a form of moral vocation. This is a statesman’s insight into the mechanics of power. It’s not just a portrait of Gladstone, the Victorian era’s most compelling and confounding political figure, but also a meditation on leadership, morality, and the sheer complexity of public life.
Jenkins analysis himself is that he believes Churchill pips Gladstone as the greater of the two and I would agree. I feel that Gladstone may also come above Peel. Either way this is a great historical biography on a truly extraordinary figure. I prefer history which holds detail in a well written way. This has it and as such I will read this Gladstone again.