CHAPTER III: STOCKHOLM 1905
During a brief halt in London between Rome and Stockholm the King summoned me to lunch at Buckingham Palace, and then told me he had wished me to wait for a post where I should have greater opportunities for activity, but it had been explained to him that I ought to be promoted. It thus became evident that His Majesty had not realized what an interesting situation I should find on my arrival, or how imminent was the crisis which was destined to lead to the separation between Norway and Sweden. I was to see him again before starting, and as the audience was deferred until the second week in January I secured an additional fortnight's leave. This had the countervailing disadvantage of giving time for the two youngest children to contract whooping-cough, which only declared itself as unmistakable on the day we were to leave. We had let our London house, and some immediate decision had to be taken. The chargé d'affaires was leaving Stockholm on the following day, so I could lose no more time, and started with the two elder children and their governess, while my wife conveyed the babies to the country. On the journey my eldest daughter also began to cough in a manner which caused our fellow-travellers to regard us with suspicion.
At Copenhagen Sir Edward Goschen was kind enough to be my guide.
He was soon afterwards transferred to Vienna and eventually to
Berlin, where the closing dramatic scene of his tenure will not
be forgotten. Sir Alan Johnstone, who succeeded him, and Lady
Johnstone thereafter extended to us a constant hospitality which
made the attractive haven-capital such a pleasant half-way house.
Of the many cities of the world which I have seen, few make
such a pleasant impression at first sight as Stockholm, which
we reached after an all-night journey from Malmö, where the
passenger boats from Copenhagen meet the trains for the north.
It had been intensely cold during the previous weeks, and the
harbour fiord round which the city is built, with the palace on
the crest of an island joined to either shore by wide bridges,
was closed with thick ice over which traffic was opened for foot-passengers.
In the subsequent winters which I spent there the harbour was
always kept open. The previous fifteen years of my life had been
lived in hot countries, and I had some misgivings as to how I
should stand the cold. But the Englishman is a strangely adaptable
animal, and climate affects him but little. The weather had now
grown somewhat milder, but all was white with snow. When the gloom
of December's three or four hours' daylight is a thing of the
past, and the afternoons begin to lengthen after the middle of
January, the northern capital presents a very cheerful picture
with its clear atmosphere and a brilliant sunshine playing on
the white roofs and the frozen fiords.
The city, moreover, is admirably kept, and suggests thorough
competence in municipal administration. Ships of moderate capacity
come and go, and discharge their cargoes on the quays facing the
fashionable residences of Strandvägen until the bales and
cases are removed. But everything is deposited with order and
neatness, and you will never see any of the mess or litter with
which docks and wharves are generally associated. Almost before
a vessel is moored a telephone wire is connected with the shore,
and communication is established with clients. The Swedish telephone
service was far the most efficient which I had met in my experience,
and perhaps it was not the less so because, in my time at any
rate, there was competition between the State administration and
the original Bell Company. A general air of well-being prevails.
If great fortunes are rare and ostentation is practically unknown,
poverty is at any rate nowhere apparent. The urban male population
is probably the best dressed in Europe. A May Day demonstration
of workingmen marching in procession is remarkable for the smartness
of the manifestants. It is true, I believe, that many of the best
London tailors employ Swedes as cutters. Women do much of the
work in agencies, banks and counting-houses, and when office hours
are concluded no conventional barriers prevent them from associating
freely with the other sex. Their evenings are spent in social
distraction, for which there is ample provision. It is commonly
said that in Sweden every one lives beyond his income. If it be
true, the habit seems to have much to recommend it, as they certainly
get the most out of life.
There is a sincerity and simplicity about Swedish social life
which is extremely attractive. A foreigner may find it a little
difficult at first to overcome a certain reserve. But once the
door is opened the welcome within is very warm. There is no lack
of cordial hospitality. The standard of comfort and wellbeing
is high, though large fortunes are comparatively rare. Above all
there is no pretension. I remember being particularly impressed
with a remark which fell from one of the great ladies of the land
whose husband's château is full of remarkable treasures.
My wife had asked her whether among their heirlooms there was
also much jewellery. She replied that there were some exceptionally
fine pearls. "But," she added, "I never wear them.
Few others have anything to compare with them, and one does not
like to wear what others have not got."
A characteristic feature of the houses and apartments is the
nest of pigeon-holes in the hall to hold the goloshes and snowshoes
of visitors. Private carriages and sledges in winter were only
at the disposal of officials and wealthy members of Society. Motor-cars
were then still uncommon. We had our first at Stockholm. Drivers
and horses, moreover, could not be kept long waiting in the bitter
winter nights. So the majority went out on foot. Ample provision
had therefore to be made in the ante-rooms for footgear as well
as for fur coats and caps. Therefore, when the guests departed,
it was not so much the carriages as the snow-boots which were
called.
The Court takes a prominent part in social life. The advent
of the House of Bernadotte brought with it little of the atmosphere
of the First Empire. There had already long been in Sweden an
assimilation of French tradition. The cabinetmakers of Stockholm
produced remarkable examples of furniture in the manner associated
with the reigns of Louis XV and XVI. England also contributed
something to the amenities of stately interiors. Some of the finest
tapestries from the short-lived Mortlake factory founded by Charles
I may be seen in the royal palaces. In the country houses dinner
is served on Wedgwood plates of the early nineteenth century.
As you look at the family portraits which decorate the walls you
ask yourself how the ancestors came to be painted by Sir Joshua
Reynolds, and then you realize that the Swedish painter, Breda,
who worked for many years with the master, had so closely caught
his manner as to be readily mistaken for him.
Perhaps one of the most striking links of association between
Great Britain and Sweden is to be found in the large number of
Scottish names which are met in society. The names of the Swedish
aristocracy may in fact be divided into three main groups: those
which have a heraldic origin, drawn from the devices on the arms
of northern warriors, such as Silver sword or Golden star or Lion's
head; those which indicate Germanic origin from the Baltic provinces
once united to Sweden; and those introduced into the country by
cadets of famous Scotch houses who offered their swords to Gustavus
Adolphus or Charles XII. You feel in the midst of kinsmen when
the party includes a Hamilton, a Douglas, a Stuart, a Fleming,
or a Spens.
A few days after my arrival I was received by King Oscar with
full ceremonial, being taken to the palace in a carriage drawn
by four horses, escorted by a guard of honour. Within the palace
troops in the old uniforms of the days of Charles XII ---the long
dark-blue coat doubled back with yellow, three-cornered hats and
high black knee-boots---were on duty and presented arms with the
sabre. I made my little speech in French, to which the King replied
in the same language, after which we sat down and he began to
talk in perfect English. The grandson of Bernadotte---the King
of Sweden and Norway, of the Goths and the Vandals, as he was
then styled---a splendid figure of a veteran, six foot three in
height, was not only exceptionally gifted with all the graces
of social and intellectual accomplishment, but he was also one
of the most sympathetic of men, and I immediately fell under his
charm. If I might use the word in a sense implying no disparagement,
his natural sincerity was accompanied by a slightly histrionic
sense, which well became the part he had to play. When I gave
him the message with which King Edward had entrusted me, and asked
what report I might transmit of his health, he replied that he
was not only feeling the advance of years but that he was at that
time not a little troubled by anxieties of State. The Crown Prince
was about to assume the Regency, and would pay the visit to Norway
which was due on his behalf. Meanwhile he would take a little
rest. We then had some talk about literature, in which the King
knew I was interested, and His Majesty presented me with two volumes
of his own poems, which I was to study when I had made some progress
in the Swedish language. They are full of the spirit of the sea,
on which so much of his life had been spent as a naval officer
until he succeeded, at the age of forty-three, after two elder
brothers who stood between him and the throne and his only nephew
had passed away.
After the official audience I was received by the Crown Prince,
who immediately made me feel very much at home. During our four
years at Stockholm circumstances brought me very frequently into
conference with His Royal Highness as Regent and afterwards as
King, and we met continually in the free and informal social life
which the Swedish Court encouraged. It is not my intention to
betray any confidences, but it would be unjust if I did not here
record a tribute of regard for His Majesty's high sense of duty
and his clear perception of political issues. His attitude during
a very trying regency and his modest self-effacement throughout
a long period of waiting as heir-apparent commanded all my respect.
It is perhaps easier for an outside observer, who has no partisan
feelings in public issues, to form an unbiased judgment than for
a national whose sentiments at critical moments in his country's
story are strongly affected. Having had opportunity to follow
events very closely up to the final dissolution of the Union,
I have retained a warm admiration for the tact, patience and conciliatory
spirit displayed by the reigning King of Sweden at a time when
he was called upon to play a most ungrateful part. Now, after
twenty years, I may be permitted to offer this testimony to a
Prince who honoured me with his friendship. A few days after our
interview he left for Norway.
The British Legation had been reduced by the departure of the
Secretary of Legation to a minimum not consistent with efficiency.
An attaché who had only arrived a few weeks earlier and
knew no Swedish was its only member. My predecessor, Sir William
Barrington, had engaged at his own charges the services of a young
Swedish gentleman to act as translator and private secretary,
and I maintained him in that capacity. But as the Ministry of
Foreign Affairs addressed all communications to us in Swedish,
and I could not feel entire confidence in the sketchy analysis
of laws and decrees, or in the reports on the Press supplied by
a supernumerary assistant, I had at once to learn enough of the
written language to be quite independent. To read Swedish is a
fairly easy matter for those who know German, and in a very short
time I found no difficulty in dealing with all documentary work
myself, or even in following current literature. But I never made
a success of conversation. The accent, or perhaps not so much
the accent as the vocalization, is difficult to acquire. Swedish
is spoken with a rhythmic measure resembling the intonation of
the lowland Scotch which an Englishman is shy of attempting to
assimilate. The Swedes, moreover, are not quick, as are the southern
nations, at understanding a foreigner who has not the mimetic
faculty necessary to reproduce their particular cadences of voice.
It was disheartening in a shop when one's carefully prepared inquiry
for a certain article was met with the answer, "We do not
speak German."
As I was Minister in Norway as well as in Sweden, we lost no
time, after my wife had rejoined me, in going to Christiania.
It was as well that we did not delay, as the crisis between the
two countries which was shortly to lead to the dissolution of
the Union was nearer at hand than anyone at home had realized.
I had, during the short time which I had already spent at Stockholm,
perceived how great a tension existed, but it was only in Christiania
that my eyes were really opened to the full gravity of the situation.
The issue which actually brought matters to a head had been
the demand of Norway for a separate Consular Service. But that
was only a particular manifestation of a much more general divergence.
This is not the place for a recapitulation of the history of an
association which had already subsisted, and had been dissolved
in much earlier times. The former Union covered the period from
the Calmar agreement in 1397 till the beginning of the sixteenth
century. The second phase dated from the peace of Kiel in January
1814, when Norway was separated from Denmark and reunited to Sweden.
I am only concerned with the record of personal experiences, and
therefore shall not review the reasons why a relation which was
not in the beginning particularly welcomed in Norway had, after
the lapse of nearly a century, failed to gain solidarity, in spite
of the obvious advantages to two relatively small countries of
a common policy, and a united front against the apprehended menace
of an advance by the Russian Colossus towards the open Atlantic.
It will suffice here to say that the Norwegians, though both racially
and linguistically very near kinsmen of the Swedes, differ from
them in certain essential characteristics to an extent which made
it difficult to live under a common roof, though not to be excellent
neighbours.
The facts of the special case at issue were clear enough. By
the arrangements concluded in 1814, the Norwegians, who were in
other respects to be autonomous, left their foreign affairs in
the hands of the King. When in 1885 the Swedish Parliament first
made its influence felt in foreign issues, the Norwegians maintained
that these had practically been removed from the Sovereign's direct
control, and placed under an authority that was not Norwegian.
The question of the administration of foreign affairs had continued
to be discussed with some acrimony over many years. Norway showed
no disposition to meet the advances of Sweden when it was proposed
that the King should be legislatively empowered to appoint either
a Swede or a Norwegian to the post of Minister and invest him
with a double parliamentary responsibility towards both countries,
and this was in itself an indication that separation was the real
object in view. Negotiations initiated shortly before my arrival
in the Scandinavian peninsula with a view to the institution of
a separate Consular Service for Norway had led to an agreement
on the principle. But Sweden maintained that this must involve
certain changes in the position of the Secretary of State for
Foreign Affairs, and raised the question of the reciprocal relations
between diplomatic representatives in foreign countries and Consuls.
The Norwegians, on the other hand, contended that the introduction
of any such reservations constituted a breach of the fundamental
basis on which agreement had been reached. The Norwegian Prime
Minister had just broken off negotiations, and had expressed the
opinion that the actual situation rendered a revision of the Act
of Union inevitable. It was the impasse brought about by
this sudden rupture of negotiations which had caused the preoccupations
to which the King had referred at my audience.
A long and interesting conversation with the Norwegian Prime
Minister, M. Hagerup, who spoke English with perfect facility,
threw much light on the internal situation. Apart from the political
issue which was only partially reflected in the demand for a separate
Consular Service, public feeling was embittered by the prevailing
economic conditions which compared unfavourably with those of
Sweden. The financial position was unsatisfactory, trade was stagnant,
and there was much poverty. An inadequate snowfall that winter
had interfered with the transport of timber, and water-power for
the mills would run short. He had, he said, hoped that in the
discussions on the Consular Service a point had been reached which
promised an acceptable modus vivendi. But Sweden had declined
to accept this proposed Consular Law without reservations regarding
the position of the Minister for Foreign Affairs, reservations
which to myself as a disinterested party seemed in no way unreasonable,
but which the Norwegians declined to entertain. It would have
been better that negotiations should never have been initiated
than that they should have failed. The Radicals now claimed to
be the defenders of a patriotic interest, and the Conservatives
who had upheld the Union foresaw the danger that this issue would
lead to its dissolution. An uncompromising spirit had evidently
grown up in Norway, where public feeling was strongly roused,
whereas in Sweden up to that time there had been little apparent
evidence of anxiety and a certain reluctance to face real facts.
My wife and I met the Crown Prince Regent tramping through
the snow, and he was good enough to invite me to come at once
to the Palace, where he gave me a most interesting exposition
of the situation as he saw it. He took a very pessimistic view.
His forecast of events was clear and precise, and it was remarkable
how the course of events justified in almost every detail the
estimate which he had then formed. He was resolutely determined
to do all in his power to find some conciliatory solution. So
long, however, as he remained in Norway, although Regent of the
two countries and responsible for the interests of both, he was
quite alone with the Norwegians. The established etiquette required
that his personal suite should be composed only of Norwegian subjects.
They were inevitably bound to regard him as prejudiced in favour
of the Swedish point of view. The influence which he could exercise
was therefore relatively small. And yet the onus of a rupture,
if rupture there was to be, would to some extent fall upon him
as the responsible authority on the spot.
I have seldom felt more sincere sympathy for any man than I
felt for the Regent, alone in the palace at Christiania, revolving
a problem which he believed to be insoluble.
Those of my countrymen whose knowledge of the Scandinavian
crisis was derived from the simple outlines of its successive
phases reported in telegrams to the Press, can have had little
idea of all the complications presented by its inner history,
which it was now my duty to study and report to my Government.
It may not be without interest therefore briefly to resume the
problem which had to be faced. It did not take me long to conclude,
from conversations which I had in Christiania, that the majority
in Norway now deliberately intended to bring about the dissolution
of the Union, and that the Consular question would be made the
pretext. So far as my own country was concerned our attitude was
one of unreserved goodwill to both peoples. But there was an aspect
of the situation which under the conditions then prevailing in
Europe could hardly fail to engage our attention, and which made
the permanence of the Union an interest to ourselves. In Sweden,
at any rate, no one in those days doubted that Russia aimed at
obtaining a road to the open sea across Norwegian territory, though
her recent disasters in the Japanese War seemed likely to postpone
any new adventures for a certain period. Should such an ambition
eventually take shape, there was good reason to believe that Germany
would not be content without some territorial compensation, and
a Polish partition of Norway might be contemplated. Great Britain
and France had in 1855 signed a Treat with Sweden-Norway, guaranteeing
the integrity of the territory of the two kingdoms. The dissolution
of the Union seemed, from the terms in which the instrument was
drawn, to carry with it the termination of that joint guarantee,
inasmuch as it was given in view of a certain political situation
which would then cease to exist. So long as the Union continued
it offered a certain bulwark against the aggressive designs of
other powers. But Norway standing by herself would be powerless
to resist encroachment, and the position of Sweden also would
then be rendered precarious.
A special Committee of the Storthing, the Norwegian Parliament,
had been appointed to advise the Government on the policy to be
adopted with regard to the Consular question. The Ministers actually
in office when I visited Christiania were divided in their view,
and half of them had gone over to the Radicals, who were quite
uncompromising on the issue of foreign affairs. The Ministry was
bound to resign on the report of the Committee, as to the findings
of which no one entertained any doubt, and a new Government could
then only be formed from the national party, as the Storthing
in its actual mood would support no other. The leaders made no
secret that they would put forward definite conditions before
undertaking office. As these conditions would involve matters
of common interest to the two countries, the Crown would have
to refer them to the Swedish Government before accepting them.
To such reference the Norwegians would not agree. It seemed probable
therefore that the Regent would be compelled to declare his inability
to form a Ministry. If he had to return to Sweden re infecta
it would be the signal for the immediate appointment of a provisional
Government by the Storthing, and this would imply that the kingly
power had ceased to be effective, and would be tantamount to an
act of revolution.
Such were the anticipations which prevailed while I was in
Christiania. But shortly after my return to Stockholm events to
some extent modified not the substance but the conditions of the
impasse. The Parliamentary Committee by an overwhelming majority
recommended the Storthing to proceed forthwith to establish a
separate consular service without further reference to Sweden,
and to present a law for the King's sanction inaugurating the
new service not later than the 1st of April, 1906. The Chamber,
by adopting this recommendation, which would probably receive
unanimous approval, would practically be presenting an ultimatum
to the Crown. A new Government coming into office would thus have
a definite mandate from the legislature, and it would therefore
be unnecessary for them to make conditions. Under these circumstances,
Mr. Michelsen, one of the dissentient members of the Hagerup Cabinet
who had advocated immediate action and whose resignation had been
followed by that of the other Ministers, was entrusted with the
Premiership. He found no difficulty in forming a coalition to
carry out a policy which had already been laid down. The King
was to be invited to sanction unilateral legislation by Norway
on a matter of common interest to both countries, framed on lines
to which Sweden had already expressed dissent. This brought the
crisis of the issue much nearer, and already indicated the dissolution
of the Union. An independent foreign policy for Norway and a merely
personal union under a common sovereign was inconceivable. The
position of a common sovereign reigning over two countries, whose
not altogether latent antagonism might be developed or encouraged
by other interested states, so as to menace a rupture of relations,
would be untenable. We had come to the parting of the ways. What
would Sweden do? My diagnosis of the situation was, for a number
of reasons into which I cannot enter here, that she would accept
the inevitable.
At this moment of uncertainty and general depression a redeeming
element of brightness was presented by the news which reached
Stockholm on the 26th of February that Prince Gustaf Adolf was
engaged to Princess Margaret of Connaught. The satisfaction was
the greater inasmuch as it was understood that the engagement
of the heir-presumptive to a granddaughter of Queen Victoria was
the result of a spontaneous impulse and not a pre-arranged decision.
I felt a certain sense of personal satisfaction, because it so
happened that I had myself suggested to the Swedish Minister in
London, who spoke to me of the Prince's intention to travel and
look round the world, that he might take the opportunity of visiting
Egypt, where the Duke and Duchess of Connaught with their daughters
were spending the winter. In Sweden everybody was delighted with
the proposed alliance. It was now five hundred years since an
English Princess, Philippa, the daughter of Henry IV, had sat
on the throne of Sweden, and had been one of the most popular
figures in her history.
That experience was not in the present instance, alas, to be
repeated. But, as Mr. Gladstone once so well said, the influence
of a life is not measured by its length so much as by its intensity,
and for all that in her was helpful and kindly and gracious and
sweet, the too brief presence of Princess Margaret in the land
of her adoption has left a radiant memory in all classes of the
population which they treasure in very loyal hearts.
The King gave a dinner-party to celebrate the announcement,
and at the dinner my wife and I were summoned to see the Queen
who, being a confirmed invalid, seldom received anyone and never
appeared in public. On this exceptional occasion, however, she
talked to us for half an hour, and revealed a keen intelligence
which made me believe that her reputation for being the really
moving spirit in the Royal Palace was fully justified.
We had just managed to get the Legation ready in time for a
big dinner in honour of the Royal engagement. The Crown Prince
Regent came with his second son. His handsome soldier brother,
Prince Charles, with his pretty wife, Princess Ingeborg of Denmark,
was also present, as well as the fourth and youngest son of the
King, Prince Eugene, who had adopted an artist's career in no
amateur spirit, and was then in my humble opinion with Anders
Zorn, Bruno Liliefors and Carl Larssen one of the four outstanding
painters of Sweden. The second son of the royal house, Prince
Oscar, who had been like his father a sailor, had resigned all
his prerogatives and the right of succession on his marriage with
a lady of private station. He and his wife devoted all their time
and energy to benevolent work, and were seldom seen in the social
world. The dinner was followed by a dance and a cotillon, at which
for a moment, at any rate, all political preoccupations were forgotten,
and we were allowed to feel that however hard it might be freezing
outside the ice had been broken at the British Legation.
It was at that first dinner-party at the Legation that I made
the acquaintance of the famous traveller, Sven Hedin, but recently
home from Asia, who accepted an invitation. There was at that
time a feeling in Stockholm that we in England were in danger
of hearing only one side of the issue with Norway.
Nansen had exposed the Norwegian case very fully in The
Times, and owing to the great popularity which he enjoyed
in the British Empire it was believed that his statement would
undoubtedly have a strong influence in moulding opinion there.
On the other hand, Nansen was regarded by the Swedes as having
omitted to mention certain matters which were pertinent from their
point of view, and to have drawn conclusions which they considered
should not pass unnoticed. I was discreetly asked whether it would
not be possible to have certain corrections made. I replied that
as an official representative I could do nothing, and must obviously
maintain an attitude of strict impartiality. But I ventured to
suggest that they had also a famous explorer whose name was as
well known to my countrymen as that of Nansen. Why should they
not get Sven Hedin to enter the lists and break a lance. He was
invited, and undertook to do so. To this extent I was responsible
for the duel in which the two great travellers then engaged in
the English Press.
I saw a good deal of Hedin in those days, and continued to
correspond with him after he started afresh on a later journey.
Probably no pioneer who has made exploration the business of his
life was ever so well equipped for his work as Hedin, because
of his great scientific attainments, his trained observation,
and his remarkable facility for acquiring languages. At the centenary
celebration of Nordenskiold's birth, to which as President of
the Swedish Geographical Society he invited me, I heard him make
excellent speeches in four different languages, to which a fifth,
Russian, would have been added had he not realized that the Russian
Minister whom he had to address would probably have been the only
person present to understand him. One of the heroes of the evening
on that occasion was my friend, Admiral Palander, who had been
Nordenskiold's navigating officer, a splendid type of the Norse
seaman. He took his holiday every year in a small sailing-vessel
which he handled himself, with Peter Simple and Midshipman
Easy as his only literary distraction.
I was once discussing Tibet with Hedin when he told me a story
which was rather suggestive. He had said that he did not believe
that the Buriat Dorjieff, whose presence in St. Petersburg had
not long before caused us some pre-occupation, had any mission
from any Tibetan authority of importance. He regarded him as a
mere adventurer who had seen his own advantage in pretending to
be an emissary. When Hedin had been received in audience at St.
Petersburg he had expressed to the Emperor Nicholas the opinion
that Dorjieff had not been sent by the Tibetans at all. The Tsar
almost started from his chair and said, "Comment! Est-ce-qu'on
m'a trompé encore une fois ?"
Looking back to the pleasant relations which we maintained
during my residence in Sweden, and having had every reason to
believe in Hedin's real attachment to my countrymen, and his genuine
gratitude to the British authorities for their assistance, to
which many of his letters bear testimony, I have always deeply
regretted the attitude he assumed during the Great War. A hero-worship
for Charles XII and an historic resentment at the spoliation of
Sweden, together with his openly proclaimed mistrust of aggressive
Russian designs on the Scandinavian peninsula, a mistrust shared
by many of his countrymen, may to some extent explain his lack
of sympathy with the cause of the Allies. But his manner of expressing
a violent partisanship, which would not have come amiss from a
belligerent subject of the Emperor William, seemed hardly appropriate
to a member of a neutral state.
The next step in the issue with Norway so far as Sweden was
concerned, was the summoning of a Committee of the Swedish Parliament,
as a consultative body in the national emergency. It consisted
of twelve members, who would hold their meetings in secret, a
measure for which the constitution made provision.
Public feeling was at this time, so far as I could judge, still
relatively cool in regard to the severance of the Union, and there
did not appear to be any sufficiently strong and general body
of opinion in favour of forcible resistance to justify its being
seriously considered. In Norway there was no longer any vestige
of a party to uphold its maintenance. The only sound course, therefore,
was to be ready with such measures as would enable the two peoples
to part in peace and guard against possible occasions for friction
or resentment during the process.
Events now began to move rapidly. In the beginning of April
and before the Bill for the establishment of a Separate Norwegian
Consular Service could be passed through the Storthing, a last
effort at conciliation was made, and a proposal was submitted
by the Crown to a joint Norwegian and Swedish Council for new
negotiations with a view to establishing perfect equality between
the two countries in respect to the Minister for Foreign Affairs
and Foreign representation. This advance was, however, immediately
and decisively rejected by a refusal to consider any other proposals
until the Consular Bill had been adopted by Parliament. It was
passed unanimously, and then submitted for the royal approval
in a Norwegian Council towards the end of May. If the Crown could
have been convinced that assent might have been constitutionally
accorded, it would, in my opinion, have been given. But the unilateral
decision of one of the parties to the Union to separate the consular
services without any preliminary arrangements as to the relations
in which the consular agents would stand to the hierarchy of Foreign
Affairs presented obvious difficulties which seemed to an impartial
mind to render its unconditional acceptance practically impossible.
The King, who resumed the reins of government for the purpose,
refused his sanction to the law, whereupon the Norwegian Ministers
tendered their resignations in a document which had evidently
been prepared in anticipation of such a decision. It was contended
that in refusing to sanction a law presented by the Norwegian
Government, and passed unanimously by the Storthing, the King
had acted unconstitutionally. All hope of maintaining the union
was now at an end.
Meanwhile, that wonderful transformation of nature which can
only be witnessed in the far north had taken place. After the
winter's long suspense, we had experienced the tedious transitional
period of the gradual thaw, with its false starts and reactions,
with roads impassable when the caked snow began to disintegrate.
In those days I used to think of Hans Andersen's birds in the
town discussing whether the time had come to fly out into the
country and look for the spring. Then at last a day arrived when
citizens who ventured afield returned with the treasure of a little
twig, the buds on which had just burst into tiny fronds. The little
twig is brought home just like the dove's olive branch. Then the
miracle happens. In a moment, as at the waving of a fairy wand,
the whole dull-coloured world turns golden green with the magic
of the uncurling leaves. The sleeping life which has lain in a
trance under the blanket of snow is awake once more and thrusting
through the wet earth in infinite variety of revelation to seek
the sun. The marvel of the northern spring is very brief, and
in a week almost it seems like full summer in the land.
The royal wedding was to take place at Windsor in the second
week of June, and on the 5th we left for London. The Crown Prince
had to attend another wedding in Berlin before going to England,
and I felt some interest as to the conversations which would take
place there regarding the Scandinavian situation and the treaty
of 1855. Before leaving Stockholm, I had a long interview with
the King, who was resigned but very depressed, and anxious to
make it quite clear that he could not have acted otherwise. He
said pathetically :
"I wish they had waited just a little longer to do this
until I had been carried out to the church at Riddarholm."
It was interesting to hear from his own lips an account of
his attitude during the Danish War in 1866. He was in command
of the Swedish-Norwegian Fleet of observation watching in the
south, and it was his desire to intervene on behalf of Denmark.
But his brother, who was then on the throne, did not agree. There
were, he said, many restraining influences at work, and he would
not criticize his brother's decision. He himself, how ever, obtained
a medical certificate which enabled him to be relieved of his
command, as he could not remain there to run the risk of seeing
an Austrian and a Prussian squadron pass under his guns to attack
Denmark.
Before we reached England, the Norwegians had taken the anticipated
action. An address to the King, courteous in its terms, declared
that as he was unable to form another Ministry, he had ceased
to reign, and that the Storthing had appointed a provisional Government.
His Majesty was invited to name a Prince of his own house to be
King of Norway. It was certainly right as well as politic on their
part to make such a proposal, and had it been possible to give
it immediate effect, the candidature of Prince Charles would no
doubt have been welcome to Norway. But there was little prospect
of its acceptance, nor could the second son of the Crown Prince
contemplate such a position until the succession in Sweden was
assured. The consent of the Swedish Parliament would have been
necessary to enable any of the King's sons to alienate themselves,
even if they had been willing to go. The Swedish people were deeply
offended by the mode of procedure as well as the issue, and would
give no encouragement to a proposition which the King himself
showed no inclination to urge. In default of a member of the Swedish
Royal Family, it appeared probable that the throne would be offered
to Prince Charles of Denmark. Simultaneously, the Norwegian representatives
in the joint diplomatic service tendered their resignation.
The interlude of the royal wedding during this period of preoccupation
and uncertainty presented one of life's curious contrasts. The
bridegroom and his brother arrived on the 12th of June and spent
the night at Buckingham Palace. I then accompanied them to Windsor,
and returned to meet the Crown Prince and Princess and Prince
Eugene. The following day they also went to Windsor. The ceremonial
reception with the escort of Life Guards and the State entry to
the Castle precincts in the splendid June weather offered a picture
to which in my experience no other country can offer a parallel.
In the afternoon there was a garden-party, and in the evening
a State banquet. My old friend, Baron de Bildt, the Swedish Minister,
was also staying at the Castle, and all the while between the
public functions and late into the night we discussed the critical
situation. The wedding in St. George's Chapel was the prettiest
thing imaginable. The weather was ideal, and place and circumstance
and the evident happiness of the young couple combined to make
it memorable. For a moment one forgot responsibilities and perplexities.
Then came the reaction. There was reason to fear that now that
the inevitable had taken place, Sweden would be meticulous about
conditions. It had even been suggested that everything should
remain in suspense until the autumn, when a new Swedish Chamber
would be elected, which would only meet in the following January.
I had, of course, neither right nor status to offer counsel or
intervene in any respect in an internal question. But in so far
as a friend to both countries was entitled to. express a purely
personal opinion when occasion offered, I did not conceal my own
view, which was that, when once the rupture of the Union had been
accepted as inevitable, it would be the worst of all policies
to place obstructions in the path of Norway.
Since the crisis had developed, the attitude adopted by Sweden
had gained for her general sympathy in Europe. The only sound
line she could now adopt was to be large-minded and generous,
and to part with a good grace which would make future relations
easy. From a practical point of view, moreover, if discussion
was protracted, and Sweden was not, as it was her interest to
be, the first to recognize Norway as an independent state, some
other power might anticipate her and establish an obligation which
might react unfavourably on her future liberty of action. For
the Crown there was nothing to gain in opposing obstacles. It
was wiser to be magnanimous. Such was also, I gathered, the view
of my friend, Bildt, for whose judgment in public questions I
have, after an experience of twenty years, learned to have great
respect.
It was perhaps too much to hope, in view of the inevitable
influence of the human element in such issues, that there should
be no further friction. One of the lessons brought home to me
in my long public and diplomatic life has been that the opportunity
is constantly thrown away of acquiring goodwill and actual advantage
by not doing graciously and at once what we know perfectly well
will have to be done in the long run. Personal considerations
and fear of criticism qualify judgment, and the golden moment
goes by. We in Great Britain often fail conspicuously in this
respect, largely perhaps through ingrained conservatism and reluctance
to venture on an untried road. In the end we grant with every
appearance of acting grudgingly what we have long known we should
have to yield, and thus we rather appear to surrender to importunity
that which we might have acquired merit by conceding with goodwill.
This is bad policy, and tends to alienate friendship. If gratitude
for services willingly rendered is rare in the history of international
relations, it has certainly never been testified for an ungracious
concession.
Until the final and definite rupture I remained Minister to
Norway as well as to Sweden, but there had been little direct
contact with Norwegian Ministers, and I was therefore surprised
when a few days later in London I received a very early visit
from a gentleman who came on behalf of the Norwegian Government
with a view to obtaining certain information for further guidance
in the event of the non-acceptance of the throne by a Prince of
the House of Bernadotte. His visit entailed, besides making arrangements
for the emissary in question to see Lord Lansdowne, the submission
of certain matters of a personal nature to King Edward himself.
My visitor had to leave for Norway in twenty-four hours, and it
was necessary to take a very rapid decision. It was Ascot week,
and the King would, I knew, be at the races. I had a ticket for
the Royal enclosure, but had not till then intended to go. Arranging
therefore to meet him again in the evening, I left my visitor
and caught the first available train. I managed to have a message
conveyed to the King, who left his party and gave me a brief interview
on the lawn, at which our business was satisfactorily settled.
Resisting tempting offers to lunch from friends who caught sight
of me at that most brilliant of meetings, I returned to London
immediately, having stayed barely an hour on the course, and I
have not been there since. Lord Lansdowne, to whom I explained
the situation, was good enough to receive my visitor, who left
the following morning with what he appeared to consider a sufficient
answer to his questions.
If an immediate and amicable settlement proved in practice
impossible, the Crown Prince Regent, who throughout this crisis
showed remarkable statesmanship, was successful in securing the
agreement of the Swedish Cabinet to a royal message to Parliament
proposing that the Riksdag should nominate delegates to meet delegates
from the Storthing, who would consider under what conditions the
Union could be dissolved. The message was generally well received.
But the secret committee had not yet reported. The longer the
situation remained indefinite the more difficult it became, because
the Swedish people, who in the initial stages appeared less concerned
than might have been expected, were, now that the Rubicon had
been crossed, becoming more restive, and the Conservative organs
were accusing the Government of weakness.
On the other hand, I was informed in Copenhagen on my way back
that the inconvenience of having no settled form of government
was beginning to be seriously felt in Norway, and that if the
Swedish decision were not quickly received it would be difficult
to keep the public from demanding further action. In national
emergencies many expedients are adopted, expedients too, not always
directly authorized by the responsible leaders. Throughout this
crisis Denmark was made the focus of certain activities which
were intended to react on Sweden. Considerable capital was being
made there of the danger of a republican rally in Norway if the
question of her future king were not quickly determined. It required
no great diplomatic acumen to understand the motives of a form
of propaganda for which I do not think the provisional Government
in Norway were responsible.
1 had been very anxious to remain in England a few days longer
because of an expected event in the family, but had been obliged
to return to my post at the beginning of July in order to be present
at the public reception of Prince Gustaf Adolf and his bride.
The Swedes were on that occasion very demonstrative in their enthusiasm,
and it was gratifying to hear every one speaking of the English
Princess in terms which came from the heart. At the dinner-party
given in her honour at the Palace the old King said to me, "Every
one in Sweden is in love with the Princess, but I most of all."
Her new life thus began under pleasant auspices although in troublous
times. Some happy instinct, deriving from the essential goodness
and healthy home training of the young Princess, seemed to guide
her every action, and there was nothing that she did not do rightly
and well. She moreover brought a new element of life and gaiety
into a depressed Court, and appealed to the national sentiment
by genial association in all popular interests and pursuits. Not
long after their arrival she said to me, "The world is changing
very fast, and if destiny has placed one in an exceptional position
one must do one's best to deserve it." This was the spirit
in which she entered on her new life.
My own personal preoccupations were relieved two or three days
after my return by a telegram from London announcing the birth
of our youngest son. The Crown Prince, who had now resumed the
Regency, graciously undertook to be his godfather, and we were
for a moment rather puzzled how to familiarize a name so unusual
in England as Gustaf, until a really somewhat obvious solution
suggested itself in the adoption of Taffy, a nomenclature which
I understand the shipmates of his term in the gun-room have adopted
with general approval. A little later I had to go to Marstrand
in the south of Sweden, where the King was leading a quiet life
on board his yacht. He had just been appointed an honorary Admiral
of the British Navy, and I had been instructed to convey to His
Majesty the uniform as a present from King Edward. On my arrival
I found that he had retired to bed in his cabin with a cold, but
he insisted on receiving me there, and when I told him of the
happy event in my own household the venerable monarch with a natural
gesture drew me to him and kissed me on both cheeks.
There had been no indiscreet leakage regarding the discussions
in the secret committee of the Riksdag. But a number of schemes
were being ventilated by the public voice of the country, not
all of them in a conciliatory spirit. If an acceptable settlement
were to be reached, Swedish amour propre, which had been wounded
by the manner of the rupture, would have in some measure to be
satisfied. At last, on the 25th of July, the Committee's resolution
was announced. It was to the effect that Sweden should agree to
separation on certain conditions to be discussed subsequently,
provided it were demanded after new elections had been held in
Norway or after popular verdict had been obtained by a plebiscite.
The Swedish Parliament adopted the resolution of the Committee
without debate. The Ministry, whose proposals for a settlement
had not been endorsed, resigned. They were replaced by a coalition
under M. Lundeberg, which was favourable to settlement. Norway
agreed to the plebiscite which was held forthwith, and recorded
an almost unanimous voice for the dissolution of the Union. The
worst difficulties seemed now to have been surmounted, and yet
an acute phase was still to come.
In Copenhagen it was assumed that the offer of the throne to
Prince Charles of Denmark would be conditional on his proceeding
at once to Norway and assuming the crown before the initiation
of negotiations with Sweden for the abrogation of the Riksakt
establishing the Union. Such a step would have been regarded in
Sweden as a deliberate slight, for until that Act was repealed
constitutionally the throne was not vacant. Norway might contend
that in agreeing to a plebiscite she had done all that was reasonable.
On the other hand, public feeling in Sweden was growing more intransigent.
The Liberals and the Radicals were as staunch as the Conservatives
on the question of national dignity, and there was danger that
a premature disposal of the throne might have serious consequences.
Fortunately the propagandists in Copenhagen did not represent
the only or the real voice of Norway, and while alarming reports
were circulating there, a very discreet and capable emissary from
M. Michelsen's Government, who has now for a long time been a
popular representative of his country in London, was coming and
going between Christiania and Stockholm, and on the 22nd of August
the Storthing, by an overwhelming majority, accepted the proposal
of the Norwegian Government to invite Sweden to agree to the repeal
of the Riksakt and the dissolution of the Union, and at the same
time to appoint delegates to negotiate preliminaries and discuss
all the points which had been specified in the resolution of the
Swedish Parliament.
A conference accordingly assembled at Karlstadt. The most delicate
matter with which the delegates had to deal was the request of
Sweden for the demolition of certain frontier fortresses which
could only be directed against herself. Feeling in Sweden and
especially in the army had now grown acute. If these remained
standing the Swedes, to feel safe in their own house, would have
to build other fortresses to contain them, and this they had no
desire to do. Their maintenance was therefore regarded as wholly
inacceptable, and it was on this issue that the danger point was
actually approached. Norwegian missioners in Copenhagen complained
of a bullying attitude and an unjustifiable demand for the destruction
of the old historic strongholds of Frederiksten and Kongsvinger,
which were national monuments, whereas Sweden only required that
certain modern extensions of these fortresses which had been built
in the last five or six years should be demolished and a neutral
zone established. Sweden was charged with having massed 70,000
men on the border. She had, so far as I was able to ascertain,
never had more than four battalions of frontier guards, some 2,000
men in all, on the spot. A Norwegian mobilization, on the other
hand, was in process. Moved by the rumours to which currency was
given in Copenhagen, the Danish Minister for Foreign Affairs invited
Great Britain, France, Germany and Russia to make friendly representations
to Sweden. Our information did not confirm the reports on which
his action was based, and we wisely declined. Germany also took
the sounder course of consulting her Minister in Stockholm. France
and Russia were, however, persuaded to make certain representations
of an anodyne character, only to be told that there were no grounds
for such a step, and that as the negotiations at Karlstadt were
secret, any reports which had reached them could only be due to
a breach of confidence.
Happily, by the end of September agreement was reached, and,
if a few Chauvinists murmured at the idea of any concession to
Norway, generally the decisions of the Conference were well received
in Sweden. The Riksdag confirmed the Treaties of Karlstadt, and
agreed to the repeal of the Union. The last act in the drama was
the abdication of King Oscar as King of Norway and his farewell
to the Norwegian people. The scene in the Rikshall at Stockholm,
to which the age and the lovable character of the venerable sovereign
lent a touch of pathos, was very impressive. Preceded by the Princes
of his house in their robes and coronets, he took his place on
the throne robed and crowned. At its foot were three stools: one
for the Riksmarshal, the highest officer of State, whose functions
include that of Lord High Chamberlain, the Prime Minister, and
the Minister for Foreign Affairs. A fourth stool, on which the
representative Minister of Norway had for almost a century been
used to take his place, was conspicuous by its absence. The King
was manifestly much affected, but he did not break down in making
the announcement which terminated an historic association.
The epilogue was to take place at Christiania. Prince Charles
of Denmark, who was now formally offered the throne, demanded,
and rightly in my opinion, a referendum before acceptance. Without
such a popular decision it might afterwards have been contended
by the republican group that he had become King by the grace of
M. Michelsen, and not by the voice of the people. That group had
displayed considerable activity in the Storthing, and the Government
asked for the authority of Parliament to offer the throne to Prince
Charles, subject to the confirmation of their action by a plebiscite.
Nearly four to one of the electors confirmed the choice, and then
by a unanimous vote of the Storthing the Prince was invited to
be King.
The Crown Prince of Sweden immediately went to Copenhagen to
be the first to congratulate the new King. It was an act of no
small courage on his part, as certain utterances at Christiania
on the eve of the plebiscite had produced an unfortunate impression
in Sweden, and his initiative was therefore sure to be criticized.
In the necessarily brief narrative of the main outline of this
difficult issue, I have said little of the preoccupations from
which I personally could not altogether escape at my first independent
post. A mistaken judgment of the situation and wrong advice at
critical moments to my Government might have had unwelcome consequences.
But I was fortunate in having established friendly relations from
the first with the highest authorities, and was thus able to obtain
the best information from the most trustworthy sources. Throughout
I had to deal with men who said what they meant and meant what
they said. The goodwill of Great Britain was valuable to both
countries at such a crisis, and there were occasions when discreet
counsels were evidently welcomed. There were phases in its evolution
when it seemed almost impossible to find a way through the perplexing
web of circumstance. There were moments when tension was high,
and the strain grew menacing to peace. If some mistakes were made,
if occasionally words were used which would have been better unsaid,
I cannot but feel, looking back over the anxious year of 1905
and re-reading the ample notes which I made at the time, that
on the whole an extremely difficult issue was handled with great
discretion, self-restraint, and statesmanship by all those who
were primarily responsible.