Chapter XI: Part 11

At the Guildhall, on this occasion, the Emperor reminded his hearers that he was a freeman of the City of London, having been the recipient of that honour from the hands of Lord Mayor Sir Joseph Savory on his accession visit to London in 1891. He then referred to the visit of the Lord Mayor, Sir William Treloar, to Berlin the year previous, and promised a similar hearty welcome to any deputation from the City of London to his capital. "In this place sixteen years ago," continued the Emperor,

"I said that all my efforts would be directed to the
preservation of peace. History will do me the justice of
recognizing that I have unfalteringly pursued this aim. The
main support, however, and the foundation of the world's
peace is the maintenance of good relations between our two
countries. I will, in future also, do all I can to
strengthen them, and the wishes of my people are at one with
my own in this."

The procession that followed upon the visit to the Guildhall made a special impression on the Emperor. "I was so close to the people," he said afterwards,

"who were assembled in hundreds of thousands, that I could
look straight into their eyes, and from the expression on
their faces I could see that their reception of the Empress
and myself was no artificial welcome but an out-and-out
sincere one. That stirred us deeply and gave us great
satisfaction. The Empress and I will take back with us
recollections of London and England we shall never forget."

While at Windsor the Emperor received a deputation of sixteen members of Oxford University, headed by Lord Curzon, who came to present him with the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws voted him by the University while he was still on his way to England. It was a picturesque scene: the members of the University in their academic robes were surrounded by a brilliant company representing the intellect of the country; and the Emperor, with the doctor's hood over his field-marshal's uniform, was the cynosure of all eyes.

The Emperor's reply to Lord Curzon's address, highly complimentary to the University though it was, was perhaps chiefly remarkable for the expression of his expectations from the Rhodes' Scholarship foundation. "The gift of your great fellow-countryman, Cecil Rhodes," he said,

"affords an opportunity to students, not only from the
British colonies, but also from Germany and the United
States, to obtain the benefits of an Oxford education. The
opportunity afforded to young Germans during their period of
study to mix with young Englishmen is one of the most
satisfactory results of Rhodes's far-seeing mind. Under the
auspices of the Oxford _alma mater_, the young students will
have an opportunity of studying the character and qualities
of the respective nations, of fostering by this means the
spirit of good comradeship, and creating an atmosphere of
mutual respect and friendship between the two countries."

The Emperor had always admired the Colossus of South Africa, discerning in him no doubt many of those attributes which he felt existed in himself or which he would like to think existed; and the admiration stood the test of personal acquaintance when Cecil Rhodes visited Berlin in March, 1899, in connexion with his scheme for the Cape to Cairo railway. It does not sound very complimentary to his own subjects, the "salt of the earth," but it is on record that the Emperor then said to Rhodes that he wished "he had more men like him." At the close of the visit the Empress returned to Germany, while the Emperor took a much needed rest-cure for three weeks at Highcliffe Castle, a country mansion in Hampshire he rented for the purpose from its owner, Colonel Stuart-Wortley.

In the course of this work, it may have been noticed, no particular attention has been devoted to the Emperor in his military capacity. The reason is, because it is taken for granted that all the world knows the Emperor in his character as War Lord, that he is practically never out of uniform, and that his care for the army is only second--if it is second--to that for the stability and power of his monarchy. The two things in fact are closely identified, and, from the Emperor's standpoint, on both together depend the security, and to a large extent the prosperity, of the Empire. He knows or believes that Germany is surrounded by hordes of potential enemies, as a lighthouse is often surrounded by an ocean that, while treacherously calm, may at any time rage about the edifice; that round the lighthouse are gathered his folk, who look to it for safety; and that the monarchy is the lighthouse itself, a _rocher de bronze_, towering above all.

In this connexion it may be noted that the army in Germany is not a mercenary body like the English army, but is simply and solely a certain portion of the people, naturally the younger men, passing for two or three years, according as they serve in the infantry or cavalry, through the ranks. The system of recruiting, as everybody knows, is called conscription; it ought rather to be described as a system of national education, whereby the rude and raw youth of the country is converted into an admirable class of well-disciplined, self-respecting and healthy, as well as patriotic, citizens. The Emperor believes, contrary to the opinion of many English army officers, that a man to be a good soldier must also be a good Christian, and thus we find him enforcing, or trying to enforce, among his officers the moral qualities which Christianity is meant to foster.

Among these qualities is simplicity of life, and as a result of simplicity of life, contentment with simple and not too costly pleasures. We saw the Emperor as a young colonel forbidding his officers to join a Berlin club where gambling was prevalent. This year, after a luxurious lunch at one of the regimental messes, he issues an order, or rather an edict, expressing his wish that officers in their messes should content themselves with simpler food and wines, and in particular that when he himself is a guest, the meal should consist only of soup, fish, vegetables, a roast and cheese. Ordinary red or white table-wine, a glass of "bowl" ("cup"), or German champagne should be handed round. Liqueurs, or other forms of what the French know as "chasse-café," after dinner were best avoided. The edict of course caused amusement as well as a certain amount of discontent with what was felt to be a kind of objectionable paternal interference, and it is doubtful whether it has had much lasting effect. Even now, the German officer laughingly tells one that when the Emperor dines at an officers' mess either French champagne (which is infinitely superior to German) is poured into German champagne bottles, or else the French label is carefully shrouded in a napkin that swathes the bottle up to the neck. Apropos of German champagne, a story is current that Bismarck, one day dining at the palace, refused the German champagne being handed round. The Emperor noticed the refusal and said pointedly to Bismarck: "I always drink German champagne, because I think it right to encourage our national industries. Every patriot should do so." "Your Majesty," replied the grim old Chancellor, "my patriotism does not extend to my stomach."

In the domain of æsthetics this year the Emperor had some pleasant and some painful experiences. Joachim, the great violinist, and a great favourite of his, died in August, and his death was followed next month, September, by that of the composer Grieg, the "Chopin of the North," as the Emperor called him, whose friendship the Emperor had acquired on one of his Norwegian trips. Quite at the end of the year his early tutor, Dr. Hinzpeter, for whom he always had a semi-filial regard, passed away.

On the other hand, among the Emperor's pleasant experiences may be reckoned the visit of Mr. Beerbohm Tree and his English company to the German capital. Their repertory of Shakespearean drama greatly delighted the Emperor, who expressed his pleasure to Mr. Tree and his fellow-players personally, and did not dismiss them without substantial tokens of his appreciation.

Earlier in the year the French actress, Suzanne Deprès, visited Berlin and appealed strongly to the Emperor's taste for the "classical" in music and drama. Inviting the actress to the royal box, he said to her:

"You have shown us such a natural, living Phædra that we
were all strongly moved. How fine a part it is! As a
youngster I used to learn verses from 'Phædra' by heart. I
am told that in France devotion to classical tradition is
growing weaker, and that Molière and Racine are more and
more seldom played. What a pity! Our people, on the
contrary, remain faithful to their great poets and enjoy
their works. After school comes college, and after
college--the theatre. It should elevate and expand the soul.
The people do not need any representation of reality--they
are well acquainted with that in their daily lives. One must
put something greater and nobler before them, something
superior to 'La Dame aux Camélias.'"

A month later, however, he made one of his extremely rare visits to an ordinary Berlin theatre to see--"The Hound of the Baskervilles"!

Meanwhile in domestic politics Chancellor von Bülow's famous "bloc" continued to work satisfactorily, notwithstanding difficulties arising from the conflicting interests of industry and agriculture, Free Trade and Protection and differences of creed and race. At the end of this year it was near falling asunder in connection with the question of judicial reform, but Prince von Bülow kept it together for a while by an impassioned appeal to the patriotism of both parties. In the course of the speech he told the House how, when he was standing at Bismarck's death-bed, he noticed on the wall the portrait of a man, Ludwig Uhland, who had said "no head could rule over Germany that was not well anointed with democratic oil," and drew the conclusion from the contrast between the dying man of action and the poet that only the union of old Prussian conservative energy and discipline with German broad-hearted, liberal spirit could secure a happy future for the nation. The "bloc," as we shall see, broke up in 1909 and Prince von Bülow resigned. The Chancellor afterwards attributed his fall entirely to the Conservatives, but it is possible, even probable, that it was in at least some measure due to the events of the _annus mirabilis_, 1908, which now opened.

XIV

THE NOVEMBER STORM

1908

The "November Storm" was a collision between the Emperor and his folk, a result of his so-called "personal regiment."

In a general way the latter phrase is intended to describe and characterize the method of rule adopted by the Emperor from the very beginning of his reign, especially as exhibited in his semi-official utterances, public and private, in his correspondence, private conversation, and public and private conduct generally. According to the popular interpretation of the Imperial Constitution--the nearest thing to a Magna Charta in Germany--the Emperor should observe, in his words and acts, a reserve which would prevent all chance of creating dissension among the federated States and in particular would secure the avoidance of anything which might disturb Germany's relations to foreign countries or interfere with the course of Germany's foreign policy as carried on through the regular official channel, the Foreign Office. The ground for this popular interpretation is a constitutional device which to an Englishman, if it be not offensive to say so, can only recall the well-known definition of a metaphysician as "a blind man, in a dark room, looking for a black cat, _which is not there_."

The device is known as the Chancellor's "responsibility," which was regarded, and is still regarded in Germany, as at once "covering" the Emperor and offering to his folk a safeguard against unwisdom or caprice on his part. The nature of this responsibility which is evidenced by the Chancellor signing the Emperor's edicts and other official statements, is so frequently discussed by German politicians, the position of the Chancellor--the Grand Vizier of Germany he has been picturesquely called--is so influential, and the intercourse between the Emperor and the Chancellor is so close, exclusive, and confidential, that an examination of the meaning of the term "responsibility" in this connexion is desirable.

Whenever the Emperor does anything important or surprising, especially in foreign policy, the first question asked by his subjects is, has he taken the step with the knowledge, and therefore with the joint responsibility, of the Chancellor? If the answer is in the negative, it is the "personal regiment" again, and people are angry: if the latter, they may disapprove of the step and grumble at it, but it is covered by the Chancellor's signature and they can raise no constitutional objection. Hence the demand usually made on such occasions for an Act of Parliament once for all defining fully and clearly the Chancellor's responsibilities. According to Prince von Bülow, and it is doubtless the Emperor's own view, the responsibility mentioned in the Constitution is a "moral responsibility," and only refers to such acts and orders of the Emperor as immediately arise out of the governing rights vested in him, not to personal expressions of opinion, even though these may be made on formal occasions; and the Prince goes on to say that if a Chancellor cannot prevent what he honestly thinks would permanently and in an important respect be injurious to the Empire, he is bound to resign.

The Chancellor, then, takes responsibility of some kind. But responsibility to whom? To the Emperor? To the Parliament? To the people? The answer is, solely to the Emperor, for it is the Emperor who appoints and dismisses him as well as every other Minister, imperial or Prussian, and the Emperor is only responsible to his conscience. In parliamentarily ruled countries like England Ministers are responsible to Parliament, which expresses its disapproval by the vote of a hostile majority, or in certain circumstances by a vote of censure or even impeachment. In Germany, where the parliamentary system of government does not exist, and where there is no upsetting Ministries by a hostile majority, and no parliamentary vote of censure or impeachment, no Minister, including the Chancellor, is responsible, in the English sense of the word, to Parliament; accordingly, a German Chancellor may continue in office in spite of Parliament, provided of course the Emperor supports him. At the same time the Chancellor to-day is to some indefinable extent responsible to Parliament, and therefore to the people, in so far as they are represented by it, for he must keep on tolerable terms with Parliament as well as with the Emperor, or he will have to give up office. How he is to keep on terms with a Parliament consisting of half a dozen powerful parties and as many more smaller fractions and factions is probably the part of his duties that gives him most trouble and at times, doubtless, very disagreeably interferes with the placidity of his slumbers.

There is no struggle for government in Germany between the Crown and the people: Germans have no ancient Magna Charta, no Habeas Corpus, no Declaration of Rights to look back to on the long road to liberty. In the protracted struggle for government between the English people and their rulers, the people's victory took the form of parliamentary control while retaining the monarch as their highest and most honoured representative. Socially he is their master, politically their servant, the "first servant of the State." In Germany there has never, save for a few months in 1848, been any struggle of a similar political extent or kind. German monarchs including the Emperor, have applied the expression "first servant of the State" to themselves, but they did not apply it in the English sense. They applied it more accurately. In Germany the State means the system, the mechanism of government, inclusive of the monarch's office: in England the word "State" is more nearly equivalent to the word "people." To serve the system, the government machinery, is the first duty of the monarch, and government is not a changing reflection of the people's will, but a permanent apparatus for maintaining the power of the Crown, harmonizing and reconciling the sentiments and interests of all parts of the Empire, and for conducting foreign policy.

It may be objected that legislation is made by the Reichstag, that the Reichstag has the power of the purse, and that it is elected by universal suffrage; but in Germany the Government is above and independent of the Reichstag; legislation is not made by the Reichstag alone, since it requires the agreement of the Federal Council and of the Emperor, and--what is of great practical importance--Government issues directions as to how legislation shall be carried into effect. The law of 1872 passed against the Jesuits forbade the "activity" of the Order, but the interpretation of the word "activity," and with it the effects of the law, were left to the Government.

Kings of Prussia and German Emperors have never shown much affection for their Parliaments: Parliaments are apt to act as a check upon monarchy, and in Prussia in particular to interfere with the carrying out of the divinely imposed mission. This is not said sarcastically; and the Emperor, like some of his ancestors, has more than once expressed the same thought. Parliaments in Germany only date from after the French Revolution. After that event there came into existence in Germany the Frankfurt Parliament (1848), the Erfurt Parliament (1850), and the Parliament of the German Customs Union (1867). These, however, were not popularly elected Parliaments like those of the present day, but gatherings of class delegates from the various Kingdoms and States composing the Germany and Austria of the time. Since the Middle Ages there had always been quasi-popular assemblies in Prussia, but they too were not elected, and only represented classes, not constituencies. The present Parliaments in Prussia and the Empire are Constitutional Parliaments in the English sense, elected by universal suffrage, the one indirectly, the other directly.

The present Prussian Diet dates from the "First Unified Diet," summoned by Frederick William IV in 1847, which was transformed next year under pressure of the revolutionists into a "national assembly." This was treated a year after by General Wrangel almost exactly as Cromwell treated the Rump. The General entered Berlin with the troops which a few weeks before had fought against the revolutionists of the "March days." He passed along the Linden to the royal theatre, where the "national assembly" was in session, and was met at the door by the leader of the citizens' guard with the proud words, "The guard is resolved to protect the honour of the National Assembly and the freedom of the people, and will only yield to force."

Wrangel took out his watch--one can imagine the old silver "turnip"--and with his thumb on the dial replied:

"Tell your city guard that the force is here. I will be
responsible for the maintenance of order. The National
Assembly has fifteen minutes in which to leave the building
and the city guard in which to withdraw."

In a quarter of an hour the building was empty, and next day the city guard was dissolved. A month later the King, Frederick William IV, granted his _octroyierte_ Constitution--that is, a concession of his own royal personal will--which established the Diet as it is to-day.

Emperor William I, as King of Prussia, had a good deal of trouble with his Parliament, and in 1852 wanted to abdicate rather than rule in obedience to a parliamentary majority--it was the "conflict time" about funds for army reorganization. Bismarck dissuaded him from doing so by promising to become Minister and carry on the government, if need were, without a parliament and without a budget. He actually did so for some years, but there was no change in the Constitution as a result.

Nor has there been any constitutional change in the relations of Crown to Parliament during the present reign. As a young man, the Emperor had of course nothing to do with Parliament, Prussian or Imperial, and since his accession, though there is always latent antagonism and has been even friction at times, he has, generally speaking, lived on "correct," if not friendly terms with it. There is little, if any, of the devoted affection one finds for the monarch in the English Parliament.

And not unnaturally. Early in his reign, in 1891, he made a reference to Parliament little calculated to evoke affection. "The soldier and the army," he said to his generals at a banquet in the palace, "not parliamentary majorities and decisions, have welded together the German Empire. My confidence is in the army--as my grandfather said at Coblenz: 'These are the gentlemen on whom I can rely.'" Again, a year or two afterwards he dissolved the Reichstag for refusing to accept a military bill and did not conceal his anger with the recalcitrant majority. In 1895 he telegraphed to Bismarck his indignation with the Reichstag for refusing to vote its congratulations on the old statesman's eightieth birthday. In 1897, speaking of the kingship "von Gottes Gnaden" he took occasion to quote his grandfather's declaration that "it was a kingship with onerous duties from which no man, no Minister, no Parliament, no people" could release the Prince. In 1903 his Chancellor, Prince Bülow, had to defend in Parliament his action in the case of the Swinemunde despatch already mentioned. Attention was called to the telegram in the Reichstag and the Chancellor defended the Emperor. He denied that the telegram was an act of State--it was a personal matter between two sovereigns, the statement of a friend to a friend. "The idea," said the Chancellor, who contended that the Emperor had a right to express his opinions like any citizen,

"that the monarch's expression of opinion is to be limited
by a stipulation that every such expression must be endorsed
with the signature of the Chancellor is wholly foreign to
the Constitution."

Next day the Chancellor had again occasion to defend his imperial master against a charge of being "anti-social," brought by the Socialist von Vollmar, who coupled the charge with insinuations of absolutism and Cæsarism. Prince Bülow said:

"Absolutism is not a German word, and is not a German
institution. It is an Asiatic plant, and one cannot talk of
absolutism in Germany so long as our circumstances develop
in an organic and legal manner, respecting the rights of the
Crown, which are just as sacred as the rights of the
burgher; respecting also law and order, which are not
disregarded 'from above,' and will not be disregarded. If
ever our circumstances take on an absolute, a Cæsarian,
form, it will be as the consequence of revolution, of
convulsion. For on revolution follows Cæsarism as W follows
U--that is the rule in the A B C of the world's history."

There is no harm in reminding Prince Bülow that the letter V--which may be a very important link in the chain of events--comes between U and W. It is clear also that the Chancellor must have forgotten his English history for the moment, for though Cromwell's rule may be called Cæsarism of a kind, the reign of William III, of "glorious, pious, and immortal memory," which followed the revolution of 1688, could not fairly be so named.

Three years later, in 1906, Prince Bülow found it necessary to defend the Emperor on the score of the "personal regiment." "The view," Prince Bülow said,

"that the monarch should have no individual thoughts of his own
about State and government, but should only think with the heads
of his Ministers and only say what they tell him to say, is
fundamentally wrong--is inconsistent with State rights and with
the wish of the German people";

and he concluded by challenging the House to mention a single case in which the Emperor had acted unconstitutionally. None of these bickerings between Crown and Parliament went to the root of the constitutional relations between them, but they betrayed the existence of popular dissatisfaction with the Emperor, which in a couple of years was to culminate in an outbreak of national anger.

An occurrence calls for mention here, not only as a kind of harbinger of the "storm," but as one of the chief incidents which in the course of recent years have troubled Anglo-German relations. The incident referred to is that of the so-called "Tweedmouth Letter," which was an autograph letter from the Emperor to Lord Tweedmouth, First Lord of the British Admiralty at the time, dated February 17, 1908, and containing among other matters a lengthy disquisition on naval construction, with reference to the excited state of feeling in England caused by Germany's warship-building policy. The letter has never been published, but it is supposed to have been prompted by a statement made publicly by Lord Esher, Warden of Windsor Castle, in the London _Observer_, to the effect that nothing would more please the German Emperor than the retirement of Sir John Fisher, the originator of the Dreadnought policy, who was at the time First Lord of the Admiralty; and to have contained the remark that "Lord Esher had better attend to the drains at Windsor and leave alone matters which he did not understand." The Emperor was apparently unaware that Lord Esher was one of the foremost military authorities in England.

The sending of the letter became known through the appearance of a communication in the London _Times_ of March 6th, with the caption "Under which King?"--an allusion to Shakespeare's "Under which king, Bezonian, speak or die"--and signed "Your Military Correspondent." The writer announced that it had come to his knowledge that the German Emperor had recently addressed a letter to Lord Tweedmouth on the subject of British and German naval policy, and that it was supposed that the letter amounted to an attempt to influence, in German interests, the Minister's responsibility for the British Naval Estimates. The correspondent concluded by demanding that the letter should be laid before Parliament without delay. The _Times_, in a leading article, prognosticated the "painful surprise and just indignation" which must be felt by the people of Great Britain on learning of such "secret appeals to the head of a department on which the nation's safety depends," and argued that there could be no question of privacy in a matter of the kind. The article concluded with the assertion that the letter was obviously an attempt to "make it more easy for German preparations to overtake our own." The incident was immediately discussed in all countries, publicly and privately.

Everywhere opinion was divided as to the defensibility of the Emperor's action; in France the division was reported by the _Times_ correspondent to be "bewildering." All the evidence available to prove the Emperor's impulsiveness was recalled--the Kruger telegram, the telegram to Count Goluchowski, the Austrian Minister of Foreign Affairs, after the Morocco Conference, characterizing him as a "brilliant second (to Germany) in the bout at Algeciras," the premature telegram conferring the Order of Merit on General Stoessel after the fall of Port Arthur, and other evidence, relevant and irrelevant. Reuter's agent in Berlin telegraphed on official authority that the Emperor "had written as a naval expert."

On the whole, continental opinion may be said to have leaned in favour of the Emperor. Mr. Asquith, the English Prime Minister, at once made the statement that the letter was a "purely private communication, couched in an entirely friendly spirit," that it had not been laid before the Cabinet, and that the latter had come to a decision about the Estimates before the letter arrived.

All eyes and ears were now turned to Lord Tweedmouth, and on March 10th he briefly referred to the matter in the House of Lords. He received the letter, he said, in the ordinary postal way; it was "very friendly in tone and quite informal"; he showed it to Sir Edward Grey, who agreed with him that it should be treated as a private letter, not as an official one; and he replied to it on February 20th, "also in an informal and friendly manner." A discussion, in which Lord Lansdowne and Lord Rosebery took part, followed, the former--to give the tone, not the words of his speech--handing in a verdict of "Not guilty, but don't do it again," against the Emperor, and laying down the principle that "such a communication as that in question must not be allowed to create a diplomatic situation different from that which has been established through official channels and documents"; and Lord Rosebery, while he recognized the importance of the incident, seeking to minimize its effects by an attitude of banter. The treatment of the incident by the House of Commons as a whole gave considerable satisfaction in Germany, where all efforts were directed to showing malevolent hostility to Germany on the part of the _Times_.

Prince von Bülow dealt with the letter in a speech on the second reading of the Budget on March 24, 1908. After referring to the Union Internationale Interparlementaire, which was to meet in a few months in Berlin, and to the "very unsatisfactory situation in Morocco," he said:--

"From various remarks which have been dropped in the course
of the debate I gather that this honourable House desires me
to make a statement as to the letter which his Majesty the
Kaiser last month wrote to Lord Tweedmouth. On grounds of
discretion, to the observance of which both the sender and
receiver of a private letter are equally entitled, I am not
in a position to lay the text of the letter before you, and
I add that I regret exceedingly that I cannot do so. The
letter could be signed by any one of us, by any sincere
friend of good relations between Germany and England (hear,
hear). The letter, gentlemen, was in form and substance a
private one, and at the same time its contents were of a
political nature. The one fact does not exclude the other;
and the letter of a sovereign, an imperial letter, does not,
from the fact that it deals with political questions, become
an act of State ('Very true,' on the Right).

"This is not--and deputy Count Kanitz yesterday gave
appropriate instances in support--the first political letter
a sovereign has written, and our Kaiser is not the first
sovereign who has addressed to foreign statesmen letters of
a political character which are not subject to control. The
matter here concerns a right of action which all sovereigns
claim and which, in the case of our Kaiser also, no one has
a right to limit. How his Majesty proposes to make use of
this right we can confidently leave to the imperial sense of
duty. It is a gross, in no way justifiable
misrepresentation, to assert that his Majesty's letter to
Lord Tweedmouth amounts to an attempt to influence the
Minister responsible for the naval budget in the interests
of Germany, or that it denotes a secret interference in the
internal affairs of the British Empire. Our Kaiser is the
last person to believe that the patriotism of an English
Minister would suffer him to accept advice from a foreign
country as to the drawing up of the English naval budget
('Quite right,' hear, hear). What is true of English
statesmen is true also of the leading statesmen of every
country which lays claim to respect for its independence
('Very true'). In questions of defence of one's own country
every people rejects foreign interference and is guided only
by considerations bearing on its own security and its own
needs ('Quite right'). Of this right to self-judgment and
self-defence Germany also makes use when she builds a fleet
to secure the necessary protection for her coasts and her
commerce ('Bravo!'). This defensive, this purely defensive
character of our naval programme cannot, in view of the
incessant attempts to attribute to us aggressive views with
regard to England, be too often or too sharply brought
forward ('Bravo!'). We desire to live in peace and quietness
with England, and therefore it is embittering to find a
portion of the English Press ever speaking of the 'German
danger,' although the English fleet is many times stronger
than our own, although other lands have stronger fleets than
us and are working no less zealously at their development.
Nevertheless it is Germany, ever Germany, and only Germany,
against which public opinion on the other side of the
Channel is excited by an utterly valueless polemic ('Quite
right').

"It would be, gentlemen,"

the Chancellor continued,

"in the interests of appeasement between both countries, it
would be in the interest of the general peace of the world,
that this polemic should cease. As little as we challenge
England's right to set up the naval standard her responsible
statesmen consider necessary for the maintenance of British
power in the world without our seeing therein a threat
against ourselves, so little can she take it ill of us if we
do not wish our naval construction to be wrongly represented
as a challenge against England (hear, hear, on the Right and
Left). Gentlemen, these are the thoughts, as I judge from
your assent, which we all entertain, which find expression
in the statements of all speakers, and which are in harmony
with all our views. Accept my additional statement that in
the letter of his Majesty to Lord Tweedmouth one gentleman,
one seaman, talks frankly to another, that our Kaiser highly
appreciates the honour of being an admiral of the British
navy, and that he is a great admirer of the political
education of the British people and of their fleet, and you
will have a just view of the tendency, tone, and contents of
the imperial letter to Lord Tweedmouth. His Majesty
consequently finds himself in this letter not only in full
agreement with the Chancellor--I may mention this specially
for the benefit of Herr Bebel--but, as I am convinced, in
agreement with the entire nation. It would be deeply
regrettable if the honourable opinions by which our Kaiser
was moved in writing this letter should be misconstrued in
England. With satisfaction I note that the attempts at such
misconstruction have been almost unanimously rejected in
England ('Bravo!' on the Right and Left). Above all,
gentlemen, I believe that the admirable way in which the
English Parliament has exemplarily treated the question will
have the best effect in preventing a disturbance of the
friendly relations between Germany and England and in
removing all hostile intention from the discussions over the
matter (agreement, Right and Left).

"Gentlemen, one more observation of a general nature.
Deputies von Hertling and Bassermann have recommended us, in
view of the suspicions spread about us abroad, a calm and
watchful attitude of reserve, and for the treatment of the
country's foreign affairs consistency, union, and firmness.
I believe that the foreign policy we must follow cannot be
characterized better or more rightly (applause)."

A German saying has it that one is wiser coming from, than going to, the Rathaus, the place of counsel. It is easy to see now that it would have been better had the Emperor not written the letter, better had the _Times_ not brought it to public notice, better, also, had the Emperor or Lord Tweedmouth or Sir Edward Grey--for one of them must have spoken of it to a third person--not let its existence become known to anyone save themselves, at least not until the international situation which prompted it had ceased. As regards the Emperor in particular, judgment must be based on the answer to the question, Was the letter a private letter or a public document? The _Times_ regarded it as the latter, and many politicians took that view, but probably nine people out of ten now regard it as the former. For such, the reflection that it was part of a private correspondence between two friendly statesmen, both well known to be sincere in their views that a country's navy--that all military preparations--are based on motives of national defence, not of high-handed aggression, must absolve the Emperor from any suspicion of political immorality. It was unfortunate that the letter was written, unfortunate that it was made known publicly, but, as it is an ill wind that blows nobody good, the episode may profit monarchs as well as meaner folk as an object lesson in the advantages of discretion.

Discussion of the Tweedmouth letter had hardly ceased when the whole question of the "personal regiment" was again, and as it now, five years after, appears, finally thrashed out between the Emperor and his folk. Before, however, considering the _Daily Telegraph_ interview and the Emperor's part in it, something should be said as to the state of international ill-feeling which caused him to sanction its publication.

The ill-feeling was no sudden wave of hostility or pique, but a sentiment which had for years existed in the minds of both nations--a sentiment of mutual suspicion. The Englishman thought Germany was prepared to dispute with him the maritime supremacy of Great Britain, the German that England intended to attack Germany before Germany could carry her great design into execution. The proximate cause of the irritation--for it has not yet got beyond that--was the decision, as announced in her Navy Law of 1898, to build a fleet of battleships which Germany, but especially the Emperor, considered necessary to complete the defences, and appropriate for affirming the dignity, of the Empire.

This was the _origo_, but not the _fons_. The source was the Boer War and the Kruger telegram, though the philosophic historian might with some reason refer it in a large measure also to the surprise and uneasiness with which the leading colonial and commercial, as well as maritime, nation of the world saw the material progress, the waxing military power, and the longing for expansion of the not yet forty-year-old German Empire. Forty years ago the word "Germany" had no territorial, but only a descriptive and poetical, significance; certainly it had no political significance; for the North German Union, out of which the modern German Empire grew, meant for Englishmen, and indeed for politicians everywhere, only Prussia. Prussia was less liked by the world then than she is now, when she is not liked too well; and accordingly there was already in existence the disposition in England to criticize sharply the conduct of Prussia and to apply the same criticism to the Empire Prussia founded. In this condition of international feeling England's long quarrel with the Transvaal Republic came nearer to the breaking-point; at the same time there was an idea prevalent in England that Germany was coquetting with the Boers--if not looking to a seizure of Transvaal territory, at least hoping for Boer favour and Boer commercial privileges. The Jameson Raid was made and failed; the Emperor and his advisers sent the fateful telegram to President Kruger; and the peace of the world has been in jeopardy ever since!

The "storm" arose from the publication, in the London _Daily Telegraph_ of October 28, 1908, of an interview coming, as the editor said in introducing it, "from a source of such unimpeachable authority that we can without hesitation commend the obvious message which it conveys to the attention of the public." As to the origin and composition of the interview a good deal of mystery still exists. All that has become known is that some one, whose identity has hitherto successfully been concealed, with the object of demonstrating the sentiments of warm friendship with which the Emperor regarded England, put together, in England or in Germany, a number of statements made by the Emperor and sanctioned by him for publication. Whether the Emperor read the interview previous to publication or not, no official statement has been made; it is, however, quite certain that he did. At all events it was sent, or sent back, to England and published in due course. The immediate effect was a hubbub of discussion, accompanied with general astonishment in England, a storm of popular resentment and humiliation in Germany, and voluminous comment in other countries, some of it favourable, some of it unfavourable, to the Emperor.

The text of the interview in the _Daily Telegraph_ was introduced, as mentioned, with the words:--

We have received the following communication from a source
of such unimpeachable authority that we can without
hesitation commend the obvious message which it conveys to
the attention of the public.

And continued as follows:--

Discretion is the first and last quality requisite in a
diplomatist, and should still be observed by those who, like
myself, have long passed from public into private life. Yet
moments sometimes occur in the history of nations when a
calculated indiscretion proves of the highest public
service, and it is for that reason that I have decided to
make known the substance of a lengthy conversation which it
was my recent privilege to have with his Majesty the German
Emperor. I do so in the hope that it may help to remove that
obstinate misconception of the character of the Kaiser's
feelings towards England which, I fear, is deeply rooted in
the ordinary Englishman's breast. It is the Emperor's
sincere wish that it should be eradicated. He has given
repeated proofs of his desire by word and deed. But, to
speak frankly, his patience is sorely tried now that he
finds himself so continually misrepresented, and has so
often experienced the mortification of finding that any
momentary improvement of relations is followed by renewed
out-bursts of prejudice, and a prompt return to the old
attitude of suspicion.

As I have said, his Majesty honoured me with a long conversation, and spoke with impulsive and unusual frankness. "You English," he said,

"are mad, mad, mad as March hares. What has come over you
that you are so completely given over to suspicions quite
unworthy of a great nation? What more can I do than I have
done? I declared with all the emphasis at my command, in my
speech at Guildhall, that my heart is set upon peace, and
that it is one of my dearest wishes to live on the best of
terms with England. Have I ever been false to my word?
Falsehood and prevarication are alien to my nature. My
actions ought to speak for themselves, but you listen not to
them but to those who misinterpret and distort them. That is
a personal insult which I feel and resent. To be for ever
misjudged, to have my repeated offers of friendship weighed
and scrutinized with jealous, mistrustful eyes, taxes my
patience severely. I have said time after time that I am a
friend of England, and your Press--or, at least, a
considerable section of it--bids the people of England
refuse my proffered hand, and insinuates that the other
holds a dagger. How can I convince a nation against its
will?"

"I repeat," continued his Majesty,

"that I am the friend of England, but you make things
difficult for me. My task is not of the easiest. The
prevailing sentiment among large sections _of_ the middle
and lower classes of my own people is not friendly to
England. I am, therefore, so to speak, in a minority in my
own land, but it is a minority of the best elements, just as
it is in England with respect to Germany. That is another
reason why I resent your refusal to accept my pledged word
that I am the friend of England. I strive without ceasing to
improve relations, and you retort that I am your arch-enemy.
You make it very hard for me. Why is it?"

Thereupon I ventured to remind his Majesty that not England alone, but the whole of Europe had viewed with disapproval the recent action of Germany in allowing the German Consul to return from Tangier to Fez, and in anticipating the joint action of France and Spain by suggesting to the Powers that the time had come for Europe to recognize Muley Hand as the new Sultan of Morocco.

His Majesty made a gesture of impatience. "Yes," he said,

"that is an excellent example of the way in which German
action is misrepresented. First, then, as regards the
journey of Dr. Vassel. The German Government, in sending Dr.
Vassel back to his post at Fez, was only guided by the wish
that he should look after the private interests of German
subjects in that city, who cried for help and protection
after the long absence of a Consular representative. And why
not send him? Are those who charge Germany with having
stolen a march on the other Powers aware that the French
Consular representative had already been in Fez for several
months when Dr. Vassel set out? Then, as to the recognition
of Muley I Hand. The Press of Europe has complained with
much acerbity that Germany ought not to have suggested his
recognition until he had notified to Europe his full
acceptance of the Act of Algeciras, as being binding upon
him as Sultan of Morocco and successor of his brother. My
answer is that Muley Hafid notified the Powers to that
effect weeks ago, before the decisive battle was fought. He
sent, as far back as the middle of last July, an identical
communication to the Governments of Germany, France, and
Great Britain, containing an explicit acknowledgment that he
was prepared to recognize all the obligations towards Europe
which were incurred by Abdul Aziz during his Sultanate. The
German Government interpreted that communication as a final
and authoritative expression of Muley Hand's intentions, and
therefore they considered that there was no reason to wait
until he had sent a second communication, before recognizing
him as the _de facto_ Sultan of Morocco, who had succeeded
to his brother's throne by right of victory in the field."

I suggested to his Majesty that an important and influential section of the German Press had placed a very different interpretation upon the action of the German Government, and, in fact, had given it their effusive approbation precisely because they saw in it a strong act instead of mere words, and a decisive indication that Germany was once more about to intervene in the shaping of events in Morocco. "There are mischief-makers," replied the Emperor,

"in both countries. I will not attempt to weigh their
relative capacity for misrepresentation. But the facts are
as I have stated. There has been nothing in Germany's recent
action with regard to Morocco which runs contrary to the
explicit declaration of my love of peace which I made both
at Guildhall and in my latest speech at Strassburg."

His Majesty then reverted to the subject uppermost in his mind--his proved friendship for England. "I have referred," he said,

"to the speeches in which I have done all that a sovereign
can to proclaim my goodwill. But, as actions speak louder
than words, let me also refer to my acts. It is commonly
believed in England that throughout the South African War
Germany was hostile to her. German opinion undoubtedly was
hostile--bitterly hostile. The Press was hostile; private
opinion was hostile. But what of official Germany? Let my
critics ask themselves what brought _to_ a sudden stop, and,
indeed, to absolute collapse, the European tour of the Boer
delegates who were striving to obtain European intervention?
They were feted in Holland; France gave them a rapturous
welcome. They wished to come to Berlin, where the German
people would have crowned them with flowers. But when they
asked me to receive them--I refused. The agitation
immediately died away, and the delegation returned
empty-handed. Was that, I ask, the action of a secret enemy?

"Again, when the struggle was at its height, the German
Government was invited by the Governments of France and
Russia to join with them in calling upon England to put an
end to the war. The moment had come, they said, not only to
save the Boer Republics, but also to humiliate England to
the dust. What was my reply? I said that so far from Germany
joining in any concerted European action to put pressure
upon England and bring about her downfall, Germany would
always keep aloof from politics that could bring her into
complications with a Sea Power like England. Posterity will
one day read the exact terms of the telegram--now in the
archives of Windsor Castle--in which I informed the
Sovereign of England of the answer I had returned to the
Powers which then sought to compass her fall. Englishmen who
now insult me by doubting my word should know what were my
actions in the hour of their adversity.

"Nor was that all. Just at the time of your Black Week, in
the December of 1899, when disasters followed one another in
rapid succession, I received a letter from Queen Victoria,
my revered grandmother, written in sorrow and affliction,
and bearing manifest traces of the anxieties which were
preying upon her mind and health. I at once returned a
sympathetic reply. Nay, I did more. I bade one of my
officers procure for me as exact an account as he could
obtain of the number of combatants in South Africa on both
sides, and of the actual position of the opposing forces.
With the figures before me, I worked out what I considered
to be the best plan of campaign under the circumstances, and
submitted it to my General Staff for their criticism. Then I
dispatched it to England, and that document, likewise, is
among the State papers at Windsor Castle, awaiting the
serenely impartial verdict of history. And, as a matter of
curious coincidence, let me add that the plan which I
formulated ran very much on the same lines as that which was
actually adopted by Lord Roberts, and carried by him into
successful operation. Was that, I repeat, the act of one who
wished England ill? Let Englishmen be just and say!

"But, you will say, what of the German navy? Surely that is
a menace to England! Against whom but England are my
squadrons being prepared? If England is not in the minds of
those Germans who are bent on creating a powerful fleet, why
is Germany asked to consent to such new and heavy burdens of
taxation? My answer is clear. Germany is a young and growing
Empire. She has a world-wide commerce, which is rapidly
expanding, and to which the legitimate ambition of patriotic
Germans refuses to assign any bounds. Germany must have a
powerful fleet to protect that commerce, and her manifold
interests in even the most distant seas. She expects those
interests to go on growing, and she must be able to champion
them manfully in any quarter of the globe. Germany looks
ahead. Her horizons stretch far away. She must be prepared
for any eventualities in the Far East. Who can foresee what
may take place in the Pacific in the days to come--days not
so distant as some believe, but days, at any rate, for which
all European Powers with Far Eastern interests ought
steadily to prepare? Look at the accomplished rise of Japan;
think of the possible national awakening of China; and then
judge of the vast problems of the Pacific. Only those Powers
which have great navies will be listened to with respect
when the future of the Pacific comes to be solved; and if
for that reason only Germany must have a powerful fleet. It
may even be that England herself will be glad that Germany
has a fleet when they speak together on the same side in the
great debates of the future."

Such was the purport of the Emperor's conversation. He spoke with all that earnestness which marks his manner when speaking on deeply pondered subjects. I would ask my fellow-countrymen who value the cause of peace to weigh what I have written, and to revise, if necessary, their estimate of the Kaiser and his friendship for England by his Majesty's own words. If they had enjoyed the privilege, which was mine, of hearing them spoken, they would doubt no longer either his Majesty's firm desire to live on the best of terms with England or his growing impatience at the persistent mistrust with which his offer of friendship is too often received.