A certain transitional phase of the European Revolution created a brisk

demand for kings who would "reign without governing." Having backed out

of Greece, Leopold got Belgium. And here we enter, in these Memoirs, on

a series of chapters giving the history of the Belgian Question, with

all its supplementary entanglements, as dry as saw-dust, and scarcely

readable, we should think, at the present day, even to diplomatists,

much less to mortal men. Unfortunately the greater part of the two

volumes is taken up with similar dissertations on various European

questions, while the personal touches, and details which Stockmar could

have given us in abundance, are few and far between. We seldom care much

for his opinions on European questions even when the questions

themselves are still alive and the sand-built structures of diplomacy

have not been swept away by the advancing tide of revolution. The

sovereigns whose wirepuller he was were constitutional, and themselves

exercised practically very little influence on the course of events.

In the Belgian question however, he seems to have really played an

active part. We get from him a strong impression of the restless vanity

and unscrupulous ambition of France. We learn also that Leopold

practised very early in the day the policy which assured him a quiet

reign--that of keeping his trunk packed and letting the people

understand that if they were tired of him he was ready to take the next

train and leave them to enjoy the deluge.

Stockmar found employment especially suited to him in settling the

question of Leopold's English annuity, which was given up on the Price's

election to the Crown of Belgium, but with certain reservations, upon

which the Radicals made attacks, Sir Samuel Whalley, a physician leading

the van. In the course of the struggle Stockmar received a

characteristic letter from Palmerston.

"March 9,1834

"MY DEAR BARON,--I have many apologies to make to you for not having

sooner acknowledged the receipt of the papers you sent me last week, and

for which I am much obliged to you. The case seems to me as clear as day

and without meaning to question the omnipotence of Parliament, which it

is well known can do anything but turn men into women and women into

men, I must and shall assert that the House of Commons have no more

right to enquire into the details of those debts and engagements, which

the King of the Belgians considers himself bound to satisfy before he

begins to make his payments into the Exchequer, than they have to ask

Sir Samuel Whalley how he disposed of the fees which his mad patients

used to pay him before he began to practise upon the foolish

constituents who have sent him to Parliament. There can be no doubt

whatever that we must positively resist any such enquiry, and I am very

much mistaken in my estimate of the present House of Commons if a large

majority do not concur in scouting so untenable a proposition.

"My dear Baron,

"Yours sincerely,

"PALMERSTON

"The Baron de Stockmar"

That the House of Commons cannot turn women into men is a position not

so unquestioned now as it was in Palmerston's day.

Stockmar now left England for a time, but he kept his eye on English

affairs, to his continued interest in which we owe it seems, the

publication of a rather curious document, the existence of which in

manuscript was, however, well known. It is a Memoir of King William IV.,

purporting to be drawn up by himself, and extending over the eventful

years of 1830-35 'King William's style,' says the uncourtly biographer,

"abounds to overflowing in what is called in England Parliamentary

circumlocution, in which, instead of direct, simple expressions,

bombastic paraphrases are always chosen, which become in the end

intolerably prolix and dull, and are enough to drive a foreigner to

despair." The style is indeed august; but the real penman is not the

King, whose strong point was not grammatical composition, but some

confidant, very likely Sir Herbert Taylor, who was employed by the King

to negotiate with the "waverers" in the House of Lords, and get the

Reform Bill passed without a swamping creation of peers. The Memoir

contains nothing of the slightest historical importance. It is

instructive only as showing how completely a constitutional king may be

under the illusion of his office--how complacently he may fancy that he

is himself guiding the State, when he is in fact merely signing what is

put before him by his advisers, who are themselves the organs of the

majority in Parliament. Old William, Duke of Gloucester, the king's

uncle, being rather weak in intellect, was called "Silly Billy." When

King William IV. gave his assent to the Reform Bill, the Duke, who knew

his own nickname, cried "Who's Silly Billy now?" It would have been more

difficult from the Conservative point of view to answer that question if

the King had possessed the liberty of action which in his Memoir he

imagines himself to possess.

The year 1836 opened a new field to the active beneficence of Stockmar.

"The approaching majority, and probably not distant accession to the

throne, of Princess Victoria of England, engaged the vigilant and far-

sighted care of her uncle, King Leopold. At the same time he was already

making preparations for the eventual execution of a plan, which had long

formed the subject of the wishes of the Coburg family, to wit, the

marriage of the future Queen of England with his nephew, Prince Albert

of Coburg." Stockmar was charged with the duty of standing by the

Princess, as her confidential adviser, at the critical moment of her

coming of age, which might also be that of her accession to the throne.

Meanwhile King Leopold consulted with him as to the manner in which

Prince Albert should make acquaintance with his cousin, and how he

"should be prepared for his future vocation." This is pretty broad, and

a little lets down the expressions of intense affection for the Queen

and unbounded admiration of Prince Albert with which Stockmar overflows.

However, a feeling may be genuine though its source is not divine.

Stockmar played his part adroitly. He came over to England, slipped into

the place of private Secretary to the Queen, and for fifteen months

"continued his noiseless, quiet activity, without any publicly defined

position." The marriage was brought about and resulted, as we all know,

in perfect happiness till death entered the Royal home.

Stockmar was evidently very useful in guiding the Royal couple through

the difficulties connected with the settlement of the Prince's income

and his rank, and with the Regency Bill. His idea was that questions

affecting the Royal family should be regarded as above party, and in

this he apparently induced the leaders of both parties to acquiesce,

though they could not perfectly control their followers. The connection

with the Whigs into which the young Queen had been drawn by attachment

to her political mentor, Lord Melbourne, had strewn her path with

thorns. The Tory party was bitterly hostile to the Court. If Sir Charles

Dilke and Mr. Odger wish to provide themselves with material for retorts

to Tory denunciations of their disloyalty, they cannot do better than

look up the speeches and writings of the Tory party during the years

1835-1841. What was called the Bedchamber Plot, in 1839, had rendered

the relations between the Court and the Conservative leaders still more

awkward, and Stockmar appears to have done a real service in smoothing

the way for the formation of the Conservative Ministry in 1841.

Stockmar, looking at Peel from the Court point of view, was at first

prejudiced against him, especially on account of his having, in

deference probably to the feelings of his party against the Court, cut

down the Prince Consort's allowance. All the more striking is the

testimony which, after long acquaintance, the Baron bears to Peel's

character and merits as a statesman.

"Peel's mind and character rested on moral foundations, which I have not

seen once shaken, either in his private or his public life. From these

foundations rose that never-failing spring of fairness, honesty,

kindness, moderation and regard for others, which Peel showed to all

men, and under all circumstances. On these foundations grew that love of

country which pervaded his whole being, which knew of but one object--

the true welfare of England of but one glory and one reward for each

citizen, viz., to have contributed something towards that welfare. Such

love of country admits of but one ambition, and hence the ambition of

that man was as pure as his heart. To make every sacrifice for that

ambition, which the fates of his country demand from everyone, he

considered his most sacred duty, and he has made these sacrifices,

however difficult they might have been to him. Wherein lay the real

difficulty of those sacrifices will perhaps hereafter be explained by

those who knew the secret of the political circumstances and the

personal character of the men with whom he was brought in contact; and

who would not think of weighing imponderable sacrifices on the balance

of vulgar gain.

"The man whose feelings for his own country rested on so firm a

foundation could not be dishonest or unfair towards foreign countries.

The same right understanding, fairness, and moderation, which he evinced

in his treatment of internal affairs, guided Peel in his treatment of

all foreign questions. The wish frequently expressed by him, to see the

welfare of all nations improved, was thoroughly sincere. He knew France

and Italy from his own observation, and he had studied the political

history of the former with great industry. For Germany he had a good

will, nay, a predilection, particularly for Prussia.

"In his private life, Peel was a real pattern. He was the most loving,

faithful, conscientious husband, father, and brother, unchanging and

indulgent to his friends, and always ready to help his fellow-citizens

according to his power.

"Of the vulnerable parts of his character his enemies may have many

things to tell. What had been observed by all who came into closer

contact with him, could not escape my own observation. I mean his too

great prudence, caution, and at times, extreme reserve, in important as

well as in unimportant matters, which he showed, not only towards more

distant, but even towards his nearer acquaintances. If he was but too

often sparing of words, and timidly cautious in oral transactions, he

was naturally still more so in his written communications. The fear

never left him that he might have to hear an opinion once expressed, or

a, judgment once uttered by him, repeated by the wrong man, and in the

wrong place, and misapplied. His friends were sometimes in despair over

this peculiarity. To his opponents it supplied an apparent ground for

suspicion and incrimination. It seemed but too likely that there was a

doubtful motive for such reserve, or that it was intended to cover

narrowness and weakness of thought and feeling, or want of enterprise

and courage. To me also this peculiarity deemed often injurious to

himself and to the matter in hand; and I could not help being sometimes

put out by it, and wishing from the bottom of my heart that he could

have got rid of it. But when one came to weigh the acts of the man

against his manner, the disagreeable impression soon gave way. I quickly

convinced myself, that this, to me, so objectionable a trait was but an

innate peculiarity; and that in a sphere of activity where thoughtless

unreserve and _laisser aller_ showed themselves in every possible

form, Peel was not likely to find any incentive, or to form a resolution

to overcome, in this point, his natural disposition.

"I have been told, or I have read it somewhere, that Peel was the most

successful type of political mediocrity. In accepting this estimate of

my departed friend as perfectly true, I ask Heaven to relieve all

Ministers, within and without Europe, of their superiority, and to endow

them with Peel's mediocrity: and I ask this for the welfare of all

nations, and in the firm conviction that ninety-nine hundredths of the

higher political affairs can be properly and successfully conducted by

such Ministers only as possess Peel's mediocrity: though I am willing to

admit that the remaining hundredth may, through the power and boldness

of a true genius, be brought to a particularly happy, or, it may be, to

a particularly unhappy, issue."

Of the late Lord Derby, on the other hand, Stockmar speaks with the

greatest contempt, calling him "a frivolous aristocrat who delighted in

making mischief. "It does not appear whether the two men ever came into

collision with each other, but if they did, Lord Derby was likely enough

to leave a sting.

Stockmar regularly spent a great part of each year with the English

Royal Family. Apartments were appropriated to him in each of the Royal

residences, and he lived with the Queen and Prince on the footing of an

intimate, or rather of a member, and almost the father, of the family.

Indeed, he used a familiarity beyond that of any friend or relative.

Having an objection to taking leave, he was in the habit of disappearing

without notice, and leaving his rooms vacant when the fancy took him.

Then we are told, letters complaining of his faithlessness would follow

him, and in course of time others urging his return. Etiquette, the

highest of all laws, was dispensed within his case. After dining with

the Queen, when Her Majesty had risen from table, and after holding a

circle had sat down again to tea, Stockmar would generally be seen

walking straight through the drawing-room and returning to his

apartment, there to study his own comfort. More than this, when Mordecai

became the King's favorite, he was led forth on the royal steed,

apparelled in the royal robe, and with the royal crown upon his head. A

less demonstrative and picturesque, but not less signal or significant,

mark of Royal favor was bestowed on Stockmar. In his case tights were

dispensed with, and he was allowed to wear trousers, which better suited

his thin legs. We believe this exemption to be without parallel, though

we have heard of a single dispensation being granted, after many

searchings of heart, in a case where the invitation had been sudden, and

the mystic garment did not exist, and also of a more melancholy case, in

which the garment was split in rushing down to dinner, and its wearer

was compelled to appear in the forbidden trousers, and very late,

without the possibility of explaining what had occurred.

Notwithstanding the enormous power indicated by his privileged nether

limbs, Stockmar remained disinterested. A rich Englishman, described as

an author, and member of Parliament, called upon him one day, and

promised to give him L10,000 if he would further his petition to the

Queen for a peerage. Stockmar replied, "I will now go into the next

room, in order to give you time. If upon my return I still find you

here, I shall have you turned out by the servants."

We are told that the Baron had little intercourse with any circles but

those of the court--a circumstance which was not likely to diminish any

bad impressions that might prevail with regard to his secret influence.

Among his intimate friends in the household was his fellow-countryman

Dr. Pratorius, "who ever zealously strengthened the Prince's

inclinations in the sense which Stockmar desired, and always insisted

upon the highest moral considerations." Nature, in the case of the

doctor; had not been so lavish of personal beauty as of moral

endowments. The Queen was once reading the Bible with her daughter, the

little Princess Victoria. They came to the passage, "God created man in

his own image, in the image of God created He him." "O Mamma," cried the

Princess, "not Dr. Pratorius!"

Stockmar's administrative genius effected a reform in the Royal

household, and as appears from his memorandum, not before there was

occasion for it. "The housekeepers, pages, housemaids, etc., are under

the authority of the Lord Chamberlain; all the footmen, livery-porters

and under-butlers, by the strangest anomaly, under that of Master of the

Horse, at whose office they are clothed and paid; and the rest of the

servants, such as the clerk of the kitchen, the cooks, the porters,

etc., are under the jurisdiction of the Lord Steward. Yet these

ludicrous divisions extend not only to persons, but likewise to things

and actions. The Lord Steward, for example, finds the fuel and lays the

fire, and the Lord Chamberlain lights it. It was under this state of

things that the writer of this paper, having been sent one day by Her

present Majesty to Sir Frederick Watson, then the Master of the

Household, to complain that the dining-room was always cold, was gravely

answered: 'You see, properly speaking, it is not our fault, for the Lord

Steward lays the fire only, and the Lord Chamberlain lights it.' In the

same manner the Lord Chamberlain provides all the lamps, and the Lord

Steward must clean, trim and light them. If a pane of glass or the door

in a cupboard in the scullery requires mending, it cannot now be done

without the following process: A requisition is prepared and signed by

the chief cook, it is then countersigned by the clerk of the kitchen,

then it is taken to be signed by the Master of the Household, thence it

is taken to the Lord Chamberlain's office, where it is authorized, and

then laid before the Clerk of the Works under the office of Woods and

Forests; and consequently many a window and cupboard have remained

broken for months" Worse than this--"There is no one who attends to the

comforts of the Queen's guests on their arrival at the Royal residence.

When they arrive at present there is no one prepared to show them to or

from their apartments; there is no gentleman in the palace who even

knows where they are lodged, and there is not even a servant who can

perform this duty, which is attached to the Lord Chamberlain's

department. It frequently happens at Windsor that some of the visitors

are at a loss to find the drawing-room, and, at night, if they happen to

forget the right entrance from the corridor, they wander for an hour

helpless, and unassisted. There is nobody to apply to in such a case,

for it is not in the department of the Master of the Household, and the

only remedy is to send a servant, if one can be found, to the porter's

lodge, to ascertain the apartment in question." People were rather

surprised when the boy Jones was discovered, at one o'clock in the

morning, under the sofa in the room adjoining Her Majesty's bedroom. But

it seems nobody was responsible--not the Lord Chamberlain, who was in

Staffordshire, and in whose department the porters were not; not the

Lord Steward, who was in London, and had nothing to do with the pages

and attendants nearest to the royal person; not the Master of the

Household, who was only a subordinate officer in the Lord Steward's

department. So the King of Spain, who was roasted to death because the

right Lord-in-Waiting could not be found to take him from the fire, was

not without a parallel in that which calls itself the most practical of

nations. Stockmar reformed the system by simply inducing each of the

three great officers, without nominally giving up his authority (which

would have shaken the foundations of the Monarchy), to delegate so much

of it as would enable the fire to be laid and lighted by the same power.

We fancy, however, that even since the Stockmarian reconstruction, we

have heard of guests finding themselves adrift in the corridors of

Windsor. There used to be no bells to the rooms, it being assumed that

in the abode of Royalty servants, were always within call, a theory

which would have been full of comfort to any nervous gentleman, who, on

the approach of the royal dinner hour, might happen to find himself left

with somebody else's small clothes.

In 1854 came the outbreak of public feeling against Prince Albert and

Stockmar, as his friend and adviser, to which we have referred at the

beginning of this article. The Prince's lamented death caused such a

reaction of feeling in his favor that it is difficult now to recall to

recollection the degree of unpopularity under which he at one time

laboured. Some of the causes of this unpopularity are correctly stated

by the author of the present memoir. The Prince was a foreigner, his

ways were not those of Englishmen, he did not dress like an Englishman,

shake hands like an Englishman. He was suspected of "Germanizing"

tendencies, very offensive to high churchmen, especially in philosophy

and religion. He displeased the Conservatives by his Liberalism, the

coarser Radicals by his pietism and culture. He displeased the fast set

by his strict morality; they called him slow, because he did not bet,

gamble, use bad language, keep an opera dancer. With more reason he

displeased the army by meddling, under the name of a too courtly

Commander-in-Chief, with professional matters which he could not

understand. But there was a cause of his unpopularity scarcely

appreciable by the German author of this memoir. He had brought with him

the condescending manner of a German Prince. The English prefer a frank

manner; they will bear a high manner in persons of sufficient rank, but

a condescending manner they will not endure; nor will any man or woman

but those who live in a German Court. So it was, however, that the

Prince, during his life, though respected by the people for his virtues,

and by men of intellect for his culture, was disliked and disparaged by

"Society," and especially by the great ladies who are at the head of it.

The Conservatives, male and female, had a further grudge against him as

the reputed friend of Peel, who was the object of their almost demoniac

hatred.

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