I know of nothing more delightful for a well-read American than
to visit the scenes in Great Britain with which he has become
familiar in his reading. No matter how rapidly he may travel,
if he goes over the places made memorable by Sir Walter Scott
in the "Waverley Novels," and in his poems, he will have had
impressions, thrills, and educational results which will be a
pleasure for the rest of his life. The same is true of an ardent
admirer of Dickens or of Thackeray, in following the footsteps
of their heroes and heroines. I gained a liberal education and
lived over again the reading and studies of a lifetime in my visits
to England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. I also had much the
same experience of vivifying and spiritualizing my library in
France, Italy, Germany, Belgium, and Holland.
London is always most hospitable and socially the most delightful
of cities. While Mr. Gladstone was prime minister and more in
the eyes of the world than any statesman of any country, a dinner
was given to him with the special object of having me meet him.
The ladies and gentlemen at the dinner were all people of note.
Among them were two American bishops. The arrangement made by
the host and hostess was that when the ladies left the dining-room
I should take the place made vacant alongside Mr. Gladstone, but
one of the American bishops, who in his younger days was a famous
athlete, made a flying leap for that chair and no sooner landed
than he at once proposed to Mr. Gladstone this startling question:
"As the bishop of the old Catholic Church in Germany does not
recognize the authority of the pope, how can he receive absolution?"--and
some other abstruse theological questions. This at once
aroused Mr. Gladstone, who, when once started, was stopped with
difficulty, and there was no pause until the host announced that
the gentlemen should join the ladies. I made it a point at the
next dinner given for me to meet Mr. Gladstone that there should
be no American bishops present.
At another time, upon arriving at my hotel in London from New York,
I found a note from Lord Rosebery saying that Mr. Gladstone was
dining with Lady Rosebery and himself that evening, and there
would be no other guests, and inviting me to come. I arrived early
and found Mr. Gladstone already there. While the custom in London
society then was for the guests to be late, Mr. Gladstone was
always from fifteen minutes to half an hour in advance of the time
set by his invitation. He greeted me with great cordiality, and
at once what were known as the Gladstone tentacles were fastened
on me for information. It was a peculiarity with the grand old
man that he extracted from a stranger practically all the man knew,
and the information was immediately assimilated in his wonderful
mind. He became undoubtedly the best-informed man on more subjects
than anybody in the world.
Mr. Gladstone said to me: "It has been raining here for forty days.
What is the average rainfall in the United States and in New York?"
If there was any subject about which I knew less than another, it
was the meteorological conditions in America. He then continued
with great glee: "Our friend, Lord Rosebery, has everything and
knows everything, so it is almost impossible to find for him
something new. Great books are common, but I have succeeded
in my explorations among antiquarian shops in discovering the most
idiotic book that ever was written. It was by an old lord mayor of
London, who filled a volume with his experiences in an excursion
on the Thames, which is the daily experience of every Englishman."
To the disappointment of Mr. Gladstone, Lord Rosebery also had
that book. The evening was a memorable one for me.
After a most charming time and dinner, while Lord Rosebery went
off to meet an engagement to speak at a meeting of colonial
representatives, Lady Rosebery took Mr. Gladstone and myself
to the opera at Covent Garden. There was a critical debate on
in the House of Commons, and the whips were running in to inform
him of the progress of the battle and to get instructions from
the great leader.
During the entr'actes Mr. Gladstone most interestingly talked of
his sixty years' experience of the opera. He knew all the great
operas of that period, and criticised with wonderful skill the
composers and their characteristics. He gave a word picture of
all the great artists who had appeared on the English stage and
the merits and demerits of each. A stranger listening to him would
have said that a veteran musical critic, who had devoted his life
to that and nothing else, was reminiscing. He said that thirty
years before the manager of Covent Garden had raised the pitch,
that this had become so difficult that most of the artists, to reach
it, used the tremolo, and that the tremolo had taken away from him
the exquisite pleasure which he formerly had in listening to an opera.
Mr. Gladstone was at that time the unquestionable master of the
House of Commons and its foremost orator. I unfortunately never
heard him at his best, but whether the question was of greater
or lesser importance, the appearance of Mr. Gladstone at once
lifted it above ordinary discussion to high debate.
Mr. Gladstone asked many questions about large fortunes in the
United States, was curious about the methods of their accumulation,
and whether they survived in succeeding generations. He wanted
to know all about the reputed richest man among them. I told him
I did not know the amount of his wealth, but that it was at least
one hundred millions of dollars.
"How invested?" he asked.
I answered: "All in fluid securities which could be turned into
cash in a short time."
He became excited at that and said: "Such a man is dangerous
not only to his own country but to the world. With that amount
of ready money he could upset the exchanges and paralyze the
borrowing power of nations."
"But," I said, "you have enormous fortunes," and mentioned the
Duke of Westminster.
"I know every pound of Westminster's wealth," he said. "It is in
lands which he cannot sell, and burdened with settlements of
generations and obligations which cannot be avoided."
"How about the Rothschilds?" I asked.
"Their fortunes," he answered, "are divided among the firms in
London, Paris, Vienna, and Frankfort, and it would be impossible
for them to be combined and used to unsettle the markets of the
world. But Mr. ---- could do this and prevent governments from
meeting their obligations."
Mr. Gladstone had no hostility to great fortunes, however large,
unless so invested as to be immediately available by a single
man for speculation. But fortunes larger than that of one hundred
millions have since been acquired, and their management is so
conservative that they are brakes and safeguards against unreasoning
panics. The majority of them have been used for public benefit.
The most conspicuous instances are the Rockefeller Foundation,
the Carnegie Endowment, and the Frick Creation.
Henry Labouchere told me a delightful story of Mr. Gladstone's
first meeting with Robert T. Lincoln, when he arrived in London
as American minister. Mr. Lincoln became in a short time after
his arrival one of the most popular of the distinguished list of
American representatives to Great Britain. He was especially noted
for the charm of his conversation. Labouchere said that Mr. Gladstone
told him that he was very anxious to meet Mr. Lincoln, both because
he was the new minister from the United States and because of his
great father, President Lincoln. Labouchere arranged for a dinner
at his house, which was an hour in the country from Mr. Gladstone's
city residence. Mrs. Gladstone made Mr. Labouchere promise, as
a condition for permitting her husband to go, that Mr. Gladstone
should be back inside of his home at ten o'clock.
The dinner had no sooner started than some question arose which
not only interested but excited Mr. Gladstone. He at once entered
upon an eloquent monologue on the subject. There was no possibility
of interruption by any one, and Mr. Lincoln had no chance whatever
to interpose a remark. When the clock was nearing eleven Labouchere
interrupted this torrent of talk by saying: "Mr. Gladstone, it is
now eleven; it is an hour's ride to London, and I promised
Mrs. Gladstone to have you back at ten." When they were seated
in the carriage Labouchere said to Mr. Gladstone: "Well, you
have passed an evening with Mr. Lincoln; what do you think of him?"
He replied: "Mr. Lincoln is a charming personality, but he does
not seem to have much conversation."
Among the very able men whom I met in London was Joseph Chamberlain.
When I first met him he was one of Mr. Gladstone's trusted
lieutenants. He was a capital speaker, a close and incisive
debater, and a shrewd politician. When he broke with Mr. Gladstone,
he retained his hold on his constituency and continued to be a
leader in the opposite party.
Mr. Chamberlain told me that in a critical debate in the
House of Commons, when the government was in danger, Mr. Gladstone,
who alone could save the situation, suddenly disappeared. Every
known resort of his was searched to find him. Mr. Chamberlain,
recollecting Mr. Gladstone's interest in a certain subject, drove
to the house of the lady whose authority on that subject
Mr. Gladstone highly respected. He found him submitting to the
lady for her criticism and correction some of Watts's hymns,
which he had translated into Italian.
The British Government sent Mr. Chamberlain to America, and he
had many public receptions given him by our mercantile and other
bodies. On account of his separating from Mr. Gladstone on
Home Rule, he met with a great deal of hostility here from the Irish.
I was present at a public dinner where the interruptions and
hostile demonstrations were very pronounced. But Mr. Chamberlain
won his audience by his skill and fighting qualities.
I gave him a dinner at my house and had a number of representative
men to meet him. He made the occasion exceedingly interesting
by presenting views of domestic conditions in England and
international ones with this country, which were quite new to us.
Mr. Chamberlain was a guest on the Teutonic at the famous review
of the British navy celebrating Queen Victoria's jubilee, where
I had the pleasure of again meeting him. He had recently married
Miss Endicott, the charming daughter of our secretary of war, and
everybody appreciated that it was a British statesman's honeymoon.
He gave me a dinner in London, at which were present a large
company, and two subjects came under very acute discussion. There
had been a recent marriage in high English society, where there
were wonderful pedigree and relationships on both sides, but no
money. It finally developed, however, that under family settlements
the young couple might have fifteen hundred pounds a year, or
seven thousand five hundred dollars. The decision was unanimous
that they could get along very well and maintain their position on
this sum and be able to reciprocate reasonably the attentions they
would receive. Nothing could better illustrate the terrific
increase in the cost of living than the contrast between then and now.
Some one of the guests at the dinner said that the Americans by
the introduction of slang were ruining the English language.
Mr. James Russell Lowell had come evidently prepared for this
controversy. He said that American slang was the common language
of that part of England from which the Pilgrims sailed, and that it
had been preserved in certain parts of the United States, notably
northern New England. He then produced an old book, a sort of
dictionary of that period, and proved his case. It was a surprise
to everybody to know that American slang was really classic English,
and still spoken in the remoter parts of Massachusetts and
New Hampshire, though no longer in use in England.
The period of Mr. Gladstone's reign as prime minister was one of
the most interesting for an American visitor who had the privilege
of knowing him and the eminent men who formed his Cabinet. The
ladies of the Cabinet entertained lavishly and superbly. A great
favorite at these social gatherings was Miss Margot Tennant,
afterwards Mrs. Asquith. Her youth, her wit, her originality and
audacity made every function a success which was graced by
her presence.
The bitterness towards Mr. Gladstone of the opposition party
surpassed anything I have met in American politics, except during
the Civil War. At dinners and receptions given me by my friends
of the Tory party I was supposed as an American to be friendly to
Mr. Gladstone and Home Rule. I do not know whether this was
the reason or whether it was usual, but on such occasions the
denunciation of Mr. Gladstone as a traitor and the hope of living
to see him executed was very frequent.
I remember one important public man who was largely interested
and a good deal of a power in Canadian and American railroads.
He asked a friend of mine to arrange for me to meet him. I found
him a most agreeable man and very accurately informed on the
railway situation in Canada and the United States. He was
preparing for a visit, and so wanted me to fill any gaps there
might be in his knowledge of the situation.
Apropos of the political situation at the time, he suddenly asked
me what was the attitude of the people of the United States towards
Mr. Gladstone and his Home Rule bill. I told him they were
practically unanimous in favor of the bill, and that Mr. Gladstone
was the most popular Englishman in the United States. He at once
flew into a violent rage, the rarest thing in the world for an
Englishman, and lost control of his temper to such a degree that
I thought the easiest way to dam the flood of his denunciation
was to plead another engagement and retire from the field. I met
him frequently afterwards, especially when he came to the
United States, but carefully avoided his pet animosity.
One year, in the height of the crisis of Mr. Gladstone's effort
to pass the Home Rule bill, a member of his Cabinet said to me:
"We of the Cabinet are by no means unanimous in believing in
Mr. Gladstone's effort, but he is the greatest power in our country.
The people implicitly believe in him and we are helping all we can."
It is well known that one after another broke away from him in
time. The same Cabinet minister continued: "Mr. Gladstone has
gone to the extreme limit in concessions made in his Home Rule
bill, and he can carry the English, Scotch, and Welsh members.
But every time the Irish seem to be satisfied, they make a new
demand and a greater one. Unless this stops and the present bill
is accepted, the whole scheme will break down. Many of the Irish
members are supported by contributions from America. Their
occupation is politics. If Home Rule should be adopted the serious
people of Ireland, whose economic interests are at stake, might
come to the front and take all representative offices themselves.
We have come to the conclusion that enough of the Irish members
to defeat the bill do not want Home Rule on any conditions.
I know it is a custom when you arrive home every year that your
friends meet you down the Bay and give you a reception. Then you
give an interview of your impressions over here, and that interview
is printed as widely in this country as in the United States. Now
I wish you would do this: At the reception put in your own way
what I have told you, and especially emphasize that Mr. Gladstone
is imperilling his political career and whole future for the sake
of what he believes would be justice to Ireland. He cannot go
any further and hold his English, Scotch, and Welsh constituencies.
He believes that he can pass the present bill and start Ireland on
a career of Home Rule if he can receive the support of the Irish
members. The Americans who believe in Mr. Gladstone and are all
honest Home Rulers will think this is an indirect message from
himself, and it would be if it were prudent for Mr. Gladstone to
send the message."
On my return to New York I did as requested. The story was
published and commented on everywhere, and whether it was due
to American insistence or not, I do not know, but shortly after
Mr. Gladstone succeeded in carrying his Home Rule bill through the
House of Commons, but it was defeated by the Conservatives in the
House of Lords.
His Irish policy is a tribute to Mr. Gladstone's judgment and
foresight, because in the light and conditions of to-day it is
perfectly plain that if the Gladstone measure had been adopted
at that time, the Irish question would not now be the most difficult
and dangerous in British politics.
I had many talks with Mr. Parnell and made many speeches in his
behalf and later for Mr. Redmond. I asked him on one occasion
if the Irish desired complete independence and the formation of
an independent government. He answered: "No, we want Home Rule,
but to retain our connection in a way with the British Empire.
The military, naval, and civil service of the British Empire gives
great opportunities for our young men. Ireland in proportion to
its population is more largely represented in these departments
of the British Government than either England, Scotland, or Wales."
Incidental to the division in Mr. Gladstone's Cabinet, which had
not at this time broken out, was the great vogue which a story of
mine had. I was dining with Earl Spencer. He had been lord
lieutenant of Ireland and was very popular. His wife especially
had been as great a success as the vice-regent. He was called
the Red Earl because of his flowing auburn beard. He was a very
serious man, devoted to the public service and exceedingly capable.
He almost adored Gladstone and grieved over the growing opposition
in the Cabinet.
The guests at the dinner were all Gladstonians and lamenting these
differences and full of apprehension they might result in a split
in the party. The earl asked me if we ever had such conditions
in the United States. I answered: "Yes." Mr. Blaine, at that
time at the head of President Harrison's Cabinet as secretary
of state, had very serious differences with his chief, and the
people wondered why he remained. Mr. Blaine told me this story
apropos of the situation: The author of a play invited a friend
of his to witness the first production and sent him a complimentary
ticket. During the first act there were signs of disapproval,
which during the second act broke out into a riot. An excited
man sitting alongside the guest of the playwright said: "Stranger,
are you blind or deaf, or do you approve of the play?" The guest
replied: "My friend, my sentiments and opinion in regard to this
play do not differ from yours and the rest, but I am here on a
free ticket. If you will wait a little while till I go out and
buy a ticket, I will come back and help you raise hell."
The most brilliant member of Mr. Gladstone's Cabinet and one of
the most accomplished, versatile, and eloquent men in Great Britain
was Lord Rosebery. I saw much of him when he was foreign minister
and also after he became prime minister. Lord Rosebery was not
only a great debater on political questions, he was also the most
scholarly orator of his country on educational, literary, and
patriotic subjects. He gathered about him always the people
whom a stranger pre-eminently desired to meet.
I recall one of my week-end visits to his home at Mentmore, which
is one of the most delightful of my reminiscences abroad. He had
taken down there the leaders of his party. The dinner lasted, the
guests all being men, except Lady Rosebery, who presided, until
after twelve o'clock. Every one privileged to be there felt that
those four hours had passed more quickly and entertainingly than
any in their experience.
It was a beautiful moonlight night and the very best of English
weather, and we adjourned to the terrace. There were recalled
personal experiences, incidents of travel from men who had been
all over the world and in critical situations in many lands,
diplomatic secrets revealing crises seriously threatening European
wars, and how these had been averted, alliances made and territories
acquired, adventures of thrilling interest and personal episodes
surpassing fiction. The company reluctantly separated when the
rising sun admonished them that the night had passed.
It has been my good fortune to be the guest of eminent men in
many lands and on occasions of memorable interest, but the rarest
privilege for any one was to be the guest of Lord Rosebery, either
at his city house or one of his country residences. The wonderful
charm of the host, his tact with his guests, his talent for drawing
people out and making them appear at their best, linger in their
memories as red-letter days and nights of their lives.
All Americans took great interest in the career of Lord Randolph
Churchill. His wife was one of the most beautiful and popular
women in English society, and an American. I knew her father,
Leonard Jerome, very well. He was a successful banker and a highly
educated and cultured gentleman. His brother, William Jerome,
was for a long time the best story-teller and one of the wittiest
of New Yorkers.
Lord Randolph Churchill advanced very rapidly in British politics
and became not only one of the most brilliant debaters but one
of the leaders of the House of Commons. On one of my visits abroad
I received an invitation from the Churchills to visit them at their
country place. When I arrived I found that they occupied a castle
built in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and in which few modern
alterations had been made. It was historically a very unique and
interesting structure. Additions had been made to it by succeeding
generations, each being another house with its own methods of
ingress and egress. Lord Randolph said: "I welcome you to my
ancestral home, which I have rented for three months."
Though this temporary residence was very ancient, yet its
hospitalities were dispensed by one of the most up-to-date and
progressive couples in the kingdom. In the intimacy of a
house-party, not too large, one could enjoy the versatility,
the charm, the wide information, the keen political acumen of
this accomplished and magnetic British statesman. It was
unfortunate for his country that from overwork he broke down so
early in life.
No one during his period could surpass Baron Alfred Rothschild as
host. His dinners in town, followed by exquisite musicales, were
the social events of every season. He was, however, most attractive
at his superb place in the country. A week-end with him there met
the best traditions of English hospitality. In the party were sure
to be men and women of distinction, and just the ones whom an
American had read about and was anxious to meet.
Baron Rothschild was a famous musician and an ardent lover of
music. He had at his country place a wonderfully trained orchestra
of expert musicians. In the theatre he gave concerts for the
enjoyment of his guests, and led the orchestra himself. Among
the company was sure to be one or more of the most famous artists
from the opera at Covent Garden, and from these experts his own
leadership and the performance of his perfectly trained company
received unstinted praise and applause. Baron Rothschild had the
art so necessary for the enjoyment of his guests of getting
together the right people. He never risked the harmony of his
house by inviting antagonists.
Lord Rothschild, the head of the house, differed entirely from
his amiable and accomplished brother. While he also entertained,
his mind was engrossed in business and affairs. I had a conference
with him at the time of the Spanish-American War, which might have
been of historical importance. He asked me to come and see him
in the Rothschild banking-house, where the traditions of a century
are preserved and unchanged. He said to me: "We have been for
a long time the bankers of Spain. We feel the responsibility for
their securities, which we have placed upon the market. The
United States is so all-powerful in its resources and spirit that
it can crush Spain. This we desire to avert. Spain, though weak
and poor compared to the United States, has nevertheless the
proudest people in the world, and it is a question of Spanish
pride we have to deal with."
In answering him I said: "Lord Rothschild, it seems to me that
if you had any proposition you should take it to Mr. John Hay,
our accomplished minister."
"No," he said; "then it would become a matter of diplomacy and
publicity. Now the Spanish Government is willing to comply with
every demand the United States can make. The government is willing
to grant absolute independence to Cuba, or what it would prefer,
a self-governing colony, with relations like that of Canada to
Great Britain. Spain is willing to give to the United States
Porto Rico and the Philippine Islands, but she must know beforehand
if these terms will be accepted before making the offer because
if an offer so great as this and involving such a loss of territory
and prestige should be rejected by the United States there would
be a revolution in Spain which might overthrow not only the
government but the monarchy. What would be regarded as an insult
would be resented by every Spaniard to the bitter end. That is
why I have asked you to come and wish you to submit this proposition
to your president. Of course, I remain in a position, if there
should be any publicity about it, to deny the whole thing."
The proposition unfortunately came too late, and Mr. McKinley could
not stop the war. It was well known in Washington that he was
exceedingly averse to hostilities and believed the difficulties
could be satisfactorily settled by diplomacy, but the people were
aroused to such an extent that they were determined not only to free
Cuba but to punish those who were oppressing the Cubans.
One incident which received little publicity at the time was in
all probability the match which fired the magazine. One of the
ablest and most level-headed members of the Senate was Senator
Redfield Proctor, of Vermont. The solidity of his character and
acquirements and his known sense and conservatism made him a
power in Congress, and he had the confidence of the people. He
visited Cuba and wrote a report in which he detailed as an
eyewitness the atrocities which the government and the soldiers
were perpetrating. He read this report to Mr. McKinley and
Senator Hanna. They both said: "Senator Proctor, if you read
that to the Senate, our negotiations end and war is inevitable."
The president requested the senator to delay reporting to the
Senate. The excitement and interest in that body were never more
unanimous and intense. I doubt if any senator could have resisted
this rare opportunity not only to be the centre of the stage but
to occupy the whole platform. Senator Proctor made his report
and the country was aflame.
One summer I arrived in London and was suffering from a fearful
attack of muscular rheumatism. I knew perfectly well that I had
brought it on myself by overwork. I had suffered several attacks
before, but this one was so acute that I consulted Sir Henry Thompson,
at that time the acknowledged head of the British medical
profession. He made a thorough examination and with most
satisfactory result as to every organ. "With your perfect
constitution," he said, "this attack is abnormal. Now tell me of
your day and every day at home. Begin with breakfast."
"I breakfast at a quarter of eight," I said.
"Then," continued the doctor, "give me the whole day."
"I arrive at my office," I said, "at nine. Being president of
a great railway company, there is a large correspondence to be
disposed of. I see the heads of the different departments and
get in touch with every branch of the business. Then I meet
committees of chambers of commerce or shippers, or of employees
who have a grievance, and all this will occupy me until five
o'clock, when I go home. I take a very short lunch, often at
my desk, to save time. On arriving home I take a nap of ten or
fifteen minutes, and then look over my engagements for the evening.
If it is a speech, which will probably happen four evenings in a
week, I prepare in the next hour and then deliver it at some public
banquet or hall. If I have accepted a formal address or, as we
call them in America, orations, it is ground out on odd evenings,
Sunday afternoon and night."
The doctor turned to me abruptly and said: "You ought to be dead.
Now, you have the most perfect constitution and less impaired than
any I have examined at your time of life. If you will follow the
directions which I give you, you can be perfectly well and sound
at the age of one hundred. If you continue your present life until
seventy, you will have a nervous breakdown, and thereafter become
a nuisance to yourself and everybody else. I advise absolute rest
at a remote place in Switzerland. There you will receive no
newspapers, and you will hear nothing from the outside world.
You will meet there only English who are seeking health, and they
will not speak to you. Devote your day to walking over the
mountains, adding to your tramp as your strength increases, and
lie for hours on the bank of a quiet stream there, and be intensely
interested as you throw pebbles into it to see how wide you can
make the circles from the spot where the pebble strikes the water."
I thought I understood my temperament better than the doctor, and
that any rest for me was not solitude but entire change of
occupation. So I remained in London and lunched and dined out
every day for several weeks, with a week-end over every Sunday.
In other ways, however, I adopted the doctor's directions and not
only returned home cured, but have been free from rheumatism
ever since.
I was in London at both the queen's fiftieth anniversary of her
reign and her jubilee. The reverence and love the English people
had for Queen Victoria was a wonderful exhibition of her wisdom
as a sovereign and of her charm and character as a woman. The
sixty years of her reign were a wonderful epoch in the growth of
her empire and in its relations to the world.
Once I said to a member of the Cabinet, who, as minister of
foreign affairs had been brought in close contact with the queen:
"I am very much impressed with the regard which the people have
for Queen Victoria. What is her special function in your scheme
of government?"
"She is invaluable," he answered, "to every prime minister and
the Cabinet. The prime minister, after the close of the debate
in the House of Commons every night, writes the queen a full
report of what has occurred at that session. This has been going
on for more than half a century. The queen reads these accounts
carefully and has a most retentive memory. If these communications
of the prime ministers were ever available to the public, they
would present a remarkable contrast of the minds and the methods
of different prime ministers and especially those two extreme
opposites, Gladstone and Disraeli. The queen did not like Gladstone,
because she said he always preached, but she had an intense
admiration for Disraeli, who threw into his nightly memoranda all
his skill not only as a statesman, but a novelist. The queen also
has been consulted during all these years on every crisis, domestic
or foreign, and every matter of Cabinet importance. The result
is that she is an encyclopaedia. Very often there will be a dispute
with some of the great powers or lesser ones, which is rapidly
growing to serious proportions. We can find no report of its
beginning. The queen, however, will remember just when the
difficulty began, and why it was pushed aside and not settled,
and who were the principal actors in the negotiations. With that
data we often arrive at a satisfactory settlement."
I remember one garden-party at Buckingham Palace. The day was
perfect and the attendance phenomenally large and distinguished.
While there were places on the grounds where a luncheon was served,
the guests neglected these places and gathered about a large tent
where the royalties had their refreshments. It was an intense
curiosity, not so much to see their sovereign eat and drink, as
to improve the opportunity to reverently gaze upon her at close
range. The queen called various people whom she knew from this
circle of onlookers for a familiar talk.
When the luncheon was served the attendant produced an immense
napkin, which she spread over herself, almost from her neck to
the bottom of her dress. A charming English lady, who stood beside
me, said: "I know you are laughing at the economy of our Queen."
"On the contrary," I said, "I am admiring an example of carefulness
and thrift which, if it could be universally known, would be of
as great benefit in the United States as in Great Britain."
"Well," she continued, "I do wish that the dear old lady was not
quite so careful."
At a period when the lives of the continental rulers were in great
peril from revolutionists and assassins, the queen on both her
fiftieth anniversary and her jubilee rode in an open carriage
through many miles of London streets, with millions of spectators
on either side pressing closely upon the procession, and there was
never a thought that she was in the slightest danger. She was
fearless herself, but she had on the triple armor of the overmastering
love and veneration of the whole people. Americans remembered
that in the crisis of our Civil War it was the influence of the
queen, more than any other, which prevented Great Britain
recognizing the Southern Confederacy.
Among the incidents of her jubilee was the greatest naval
demonstration ever known. The fleets of Great Britain were summoned
from all parts of the globe and anchored in a long and imposing
line in the English Channel. Mr. Ismay, at that time the head
of the White Star Line, took the Teutonic, which had just been
built and was not yet in regular commission, as his private yacht.
He had on board a notable company, representing the best, both
of men and women, of English life. He was the most generous of
hosts, and every care taken for the individual comfort of his
guests. In the intimacy for several days of such an excursion
we all became very well acquainted. There were speeches at
the dinners and dances afterwards on the deck for the younger
people. The war-ships were illuminated at night by electric
lights, and the launch of the Teutonic took us down one lane and
up another through the long lines of these formidable defenders
of Great Britain.
One day there was great excitement when a war-ship steamed into
our midst and it was announced that it was the German emperor's.
Even as early as that he excited in the English mind both curiosity
and apprehension. One of the frequent questions put to me, both
then and for years afterwards at English dinners, was: "What do
you think of the German emperor?"
Shortly after his arrival he came on to the Teutonic with the
Prince of Wales, afterwards King Edward VII. The prince knew
many of the company and was most cordial all around. The emperor
was absorbed in an investigation of this new ship and her
possibilities both in the mercantile marine and as a cruiser.
I heard him say to the captain: "How are you armed?" The captain
told him that among his equipment he had a new invention, a
quick-firing gun. The emperor was immediately greatly excited.
He examined the gun and questioned its qualities and possibilities
until he was master of every detail. Then he turned to one of
his officers and gave a quick order that the gun should be
immediately investigated and all that were required should be
provided for Germany.
I heard a picturesque story from a member of the court, of
Queen Victoria's interest in all public affairs. There was then,
as there is generally in European relations, some talk of war.
The queen was staying at her castle at Osborne on the Isle of Wight.
He said she drove alone down to the shore one night and sat there
a long time looking at this great fleet, which was the main
protection of her empire and her people. It would be interesting
if one could know what were her thoughts, her fears, and her hopes.
The queen was constantly assisting the government in the maintenance
of friendly relations with foreign powers by entertaining their
representatives at Windsor Castle. When General Grant, after
he retired from the presidency, made his trip around the world,
the question which disturbed our American minister, when General Grant
arrived in London, was how he could be properly received and
recognized. Of course, under our usage, he had become a private
citizen, and was no more entitled to official recognition than any
other citizen. This was well known in the diplomatic circles.
When the ambassadors and ministers of foreign countries in London
were appealed to, they unanimously said that as they represented
their sovereigns they could not yield precedence to General Grant,
but he must sit at the foot of the table. The Prince of Wales
solved this question with his usual tact and wisdom. Under the
recognized usage at any entertainment, the Prince of Wales can
select some person as his special guest to sit at his right, and,
therefore, precede everybody else. The prince made this suggestion
to our minister and performed this courteous act at all functions
given to General Grant. Queen Victoria supplemented this by
extending the same invitation to General and Mrs. Grant to dine
and spend the night with her at Windsor Castle, which was extended
only to visiting royalty.
I remember that the Army of the Potomac was holding its annual
meeting and commemoration at one of our cities when the cable
announced that General Grant was being entertained by Queen Victoria
at Windsor Castle. The conventions of diplomacy, which requires
all communications to pass through the ambassador of one's country
to the foreign minister of another country before it can reach the
sovereign were not known to these old soldiers, so they cabled
a warm message to General Grant, care of Queen Victoria,
Windsor Castle, England.
One of the most delightful bits of humor in my recollections of
journalistic enterprise was an editorial by a Mr. Alden, one
of the editors of the New York Times. Mr. Alden described with
great particularity, as if giving the details of the occurrence,
that the messenger-boy arrived at Windsor Castle during the night
and rang the front door-bell; that Her Majesty called out of the
window in quite American style, "Who is there?" and the messenger-boy
shouted, "Cable for General Grant. Is he staying at this house?"
I can only give a suggestion of Alden's fun, which shook the
whole country.
One of the court officers said to me during the jubilee: "Royalties
are here from every country, and among those who have come over
is Liliuokalani, Queen of the Hawaiian Islands. She is as insistent
of her royal rights as the Emperor of Germany. We have consented
that she should be a guest at a dinner of our queen and spend
the night at Windsor Castle. We have settled her place among
the royalties in the procession through London and offered her
the hussars as her guard of honor. She insists, however, that
she shall have the same as the other kings, a company of the
guards. Having recognized her, we are obliged to yield." The
same officer told me that at the dinner the dusky queen said to
Queen Victoria: "Your Majesty, I am a blood relative of yours."
"How so?" was the queen's astonished answer.
"Why," said Liliuokalani, "my grandfather ate your Captain Cook."
One of the most interesting of the many distinguished men who
were either guests on the Teutonic or visited us was Admiral Lord
Charles Beresford. He was a typical sailor of the highest class
and very versatile. He made a good speech, either social or
political, and was a delightful companion on all occasions. He
had remarkable adventures all over the world, and was a word
painter of artistic power. He knew America well and was very
sympathetic with our ideals. I met him many times in many relations
and always with increasing regard and esteem.
I was entertained by Lord Beresford once in the most original way.
He had a country place about an hour from London and invited me
to come down on a Sunday afternoon and meet some friends. It was
a delightful garden-party on an ideal English summer day. He
pressed me to stay for dinner, saying: "There will be a few friends
coming, whom I am anxious for you to know."
The friends kept coming, and after a while Lady Beresford said
to him: "We have set all the tables we have and the dining-room
and the adjoining room can hold. How many have you invited?"
The admiral answered: "I cannot remember, but if we delay the
dinner until a quarter of nine, I am sure they will all be here."
When we sat down we numbered over fifty. Lord Charles's abounding
and irresistible hospitality had included everybody whom he had met
the day before.
The butler came to Lord Charles shortly after we sat down and
said: "My lord, it is Sunday night, and the shops are all closed.
We can add nothing to what we have in the house, and the soup
has given out."
"Well," said this admirable strategist, "commence with those for
whom you have no soup with the fish. When the fish gives out,
start right on with the next course, and so to the close of the
dinner. In that way everybody will get something."
After a while the butler again approached the admiral and said:
"My lord, the champagne is all gone."
"Well," said Lord Charles, "start in on cider."
It was a merry company, and they all caught on to the situation.
The result was one of the most hilarious, enjoyable, and original
entertainments of my life. It lasted late, and everybody with
absolute sincerity declared he or she had had the best time ever.
I was asked to meet Lord John Fisher, in a way a rival of
Lord Beresford. Both were exceedingly able and brilliant officers
and men of achievement, but they were absolutely unlike; one had
all the characteristics of the Celt and the other of the Saxon.
One of the most interesting things in Lord Fisher's talk, especially
in view of later developments, was his description of the
discoveries and annexations to the British Empire, made by the
British navy. In regard to this he said: "The British navy had
been acquiring positions of strategic importance to the safety and
growth of the empire from time immemorial, and some fool of a
prime minister on a pure matter of sentiment is always giving away
to our possible enemies one or the other of these advantageous
positions." He referred especially to Heligoland, the gift of
which to Germany had taken place not long before. If Heligoland,
fortified like Gibraltar, had remained in the possession of the
British Government, Germany would not have ventured upon the late war.
Lord Fisher exemplified what I have often met with in men who have
won eminent distinction in some career, whose great desire was
to have fame in another and entirely different one. Apparently
he wished his friends and those he met to believe that he was
the best storyteller in the world; that he had the largest stock
of original anecdotes and told them better than anybody else.
I found that he was exceedingly impatient and irritable when any
one else started the inevitable "that reminds me," and he was
intolerant with the story the other was trying to tell. But I
discovered, also, that most of his stories, though told with great
enthusiasm, were very familiar, or, as we Americans would
say, "chestnuts."
During my summer vacations I spent two weeks or more at Homburg,
the German watering-place. It was at that time the most interesting
resort on the continent. The Prince of Wales, afterwards
King Edward VII, was always there, and his sister, the Dowager
Empress of Germany, had her castle within a few miles. It was
said that there was a quorum of both Houses of Parliament in
Homburg while the prince was there, but his presence also drew
representatives from every department of English life, the bench
and the bar, writers of eminence of both sexes, distinguished
artists, and people famous on both the dramatic and the operatic
stage. The prince, with keen discrimination, had these interesting
people always about him. There were also social leaders, whose
entertainments were famous in London, who did their best to add
to the pleasure of the visit of the prince. I met him frequently
and was often his guest at his luncheons and dinners. He fell
in at once in the Homburg way.
The routine of the cure was to be at the springs every morning
at seven o'clock, to take a glass of water, walk half an hour
with some agreeable companion, and repeat this until three glasses
had been consumed. Then breakfast, and after that the great
bathing-house at eleven o'clock. The bathing-house was a
meeting-place for everybody. Another meeting-place was the open-air
concerts in the afternoon. In the evening came the formal dinners
and some entertainment afterwards.
Both for luncheon and dinner the prince always had quite a large
company. He was a host of great charm, tact, and character. He
had a talent of drawing out the best there was in those about his
table, and especially of making the occasion very agreeable for
a stranger. Any one at his entertainments always carried away
either in the people he met or the things that were said, or both,
permanent recollections.
I do not think the prince bothered about domestic questions. He
was very observant of the limitations and restrictions which the
English Government imposes upon royalty. He was, however, very
keen upon his country's foreign relations. In the peace of Europe
he was an important factor, being so closely allied with the imperial
houses of Germany and Russia. There is no doubt that he prevented
the German Emperor from acquiring a dangerous control over the
Czar. He was very fixed and determined to maintain and increase
friendly relations between the United States and Great Britain.
He succeeded, after many varied and long-continued efforts, in
doing away with the prejudices and hostilities of the French
towards the English, an accomplishment of infinite value to his
country in these later years.
I was told that the prince required very little sleep, that he
retired to bed late and was an early riser. I was awakened one
night by his equerry calling me up, saying the prince was on
the terrace of the Kursaal and wanted to see me. The lights were
all out, everybody had gone, and he was sitting alone at a table
illuminated by a single candle. What he desired was to discuss
American affairs and become more familiar with our public men,
our ideals, our policies, and especially any causes which could
possibly be removed of irritation between his own country and
ours. This discussion lasted till daylight.
Meeting him on the street one day, he stopped and asked me to
step aside into an opening there was in the hedge. He seemed
laboring under considerable excitement, and said: "Why do the
people in the United States want to break up the British Empire?"
I knew he referred to the Home Rule bill for Ireland, which was
then agitating Parliament and the country, and also the frequent
demonstrations in its favor which were occurring in the United States.
I said to him: "Sir, I do not believe there is a single American
who has any thought of breaking up the British Empire. We are
wedded to the federal principle of independent States, which are
sovereign in their local affairs and home matters, but on
everything you call imperial the United States is supreme. To
vindicate this principle we fought a Civil War, in which we lost
more lives, spent more money, destroyed more property, and incurred
more debt than any contest of modern time. The success of the
government has been so complete that the States which were in
rebellion and their people are quite as loyal to the general
government as those who fought to preserve it. The prosperity
of the country, with this question settled, has exceeded the bounds
of imagination. So Americans think of your trouble with Ireland
in terms of our federated States and believe that all your
difficulties could be adjusted in the same way."
We had a long discussion in which he asked innumerable questions,
and never referred to the subject again. I heard afterwards among
my English friends that he who had been most hostile was becoming
a Home Ruler.
At another time he wanted to know why our government had treated
the British ambassador, Lord Sackville West, so badly and ruined
his career. The Sackville West incident was already forgotten,
though it was the liveliest question of its time.
Cleveland was president and a candidate for re-election.
Sackville West was the British ambassador. A little company of
shrewd Republican politicians in California thought if they could
get an admission that the British Government was interfering in
our election in favor of Cleveland, it would be a fine asset in
the campaign, and so they wrote to Lord Sackville West, telling
him they were Englishmen who had become naturalized American
citizens. In voting they were anxious to vote for the side which
would be best for their native land; would he kindly and very
confidentially advise them whether to support the Democratic or
the Republican ticket. Sackville West swallowed the bait without
investigation, and wrote them a letter advising them to vote the
Democratic ticket.
There never had been such consternation in diplomatic circles in
Washington. Of course, Mr. Cleveland and his supporters had to
get out from under the situation as quickly and gracefully as possible.
The administration instantly demanded that the British Government
should recall Lord Sackville West, which was done, and he was
repudiated for his activity in American politics. It was curious
that the prince had apparently never been fully informed of
the facts, but had been misled by Sackville West's explanation,
and the prince was always loyal to a friend.
One year Mr. James G. Blaine visited Homburg, and the prince
at once invited him to luncheon. Blaine's retort to a question
delighted every American in the place. One of the guests was
the then Duke of Manchester, an old man and a great Tory. When
the duke grasped that Blaine was a leading American and had been
a candidate for the presidency of the United States, all his old
Toryism was aroused, and he was back in the days of George III.
To the horror of the prince, the duke said to Mr. Blaine: "The most
outrageous thing in all history was your rebellion and separation
from the best government on earth." He said much more before
the prince could stop him.
Blaine, with that grace and tact for which he was so famous,
smilingly said: "Well, your Grace, if George III had had the sense,
tact, and winning qualities of his great-grandson, our host, it is
just possible that we might now be a self-governing colony in
the British Empire."
The answer relieved the situation and immensely pleased the host.
Lord Rosebery once said in a speech that, with the tremendous
growth in every element of greatness of the United States, if the
American colonies had remained in the British Empire, with their
preponderating influence and prestige, the capital of Great Britain
might have been moved to New York and Buckingham Palace rebuilt
in Central Park.
At another dinner one of the guests of the prince suddenly shot
at me across the table the startling question: "Do you know
certain American heiresses"--naming them--"now visiting London?"
I answered "Yes"--naming one especially, a very beautiful and
accomplished girl who was quite the most popular debutante of
the London season.
"How much has she?" he asked.
I named the millions which she would probably inherit. "But,"
I added, "before you marry an American heiress, you better be sure
that she can say the Lord's Prayer."
He said with great indignation that he would be astonished if any
American girl could be recognized in English society who had been
so badly brought up that she was not familiar with the Lord's Prayer.
"All of them are," I replied, "but few heiresses, unless they have
come into their inheritance and can say 'Our Father, who art in
heaven,' will inherit much, because American fathers are very
speculative."
He continued to express his astonishment at this lack of religious
training in an American family, while the prince enjoyed the joke
so much that I was fearful in his convulsive laughter he would have
a fit of apoplexy.
Once, at a dinner given by the prince, an old lady of very high
rank and leading position said suddenly to me, and in a way which
aroused the attention of the whole company: "Is it true that
divorces are very common in America?"
I knew that a denial by me would not convince her or any others
who shared in this belief, then very common in Europe. Of course,
the prince knew better. I saw from his expression that he wished
me to take advantage of the opportunity. I made up my mind quickly
that the best way to meet this belief was by an exaggeration which
would show its absurdity.
Having once started, the imaginative situation grew beyond my
anticipation. I answered: "Yes, divorces are so common with us
that the government has set aside one of our forty-odd States for
this special purpose. It is the principal business of the authorities.
Most of these actions for divorce take place at the capital, which
is always crowded with great numbers of people from all parts of
the country seeking relief from their marital obligations."
"Did you ever visit that capital?" asked the prince.
"Yes, several times," I answered, "but not for divorce. My domestic
relations have always been very happy, but it is also a famous
health resort, and I went there for the cure."
"Tell us about your visit," said the prince.
"Well," I continued, "it was out of season when I was first there,
so the only amusement or public occasions of interest were
prayer-meetings."
The old lady asked excitedly: "Share meetings?" She had been
a large and unfortunate investor in American stocks.
I relieved her by saying: "No, not share meetings, but religious
prayer-meetings. I remember one evening that the gentleman who
sat beside me turned suddenly to his wife and said: 'We must get
out of here at once; the air is too close.' 'Why, no,' she said;
'the windows are all open and the breeze is fresh.' 'Yes,' he
quickly remarked, 'but next to you are your two predecessors from
whom I was divorced, and that makes the air too close for me.'"