Since King Edward’s death I have had but few opportunities of being a spectator of events. Instead of travelling all over England and Europe on visits, official and otherwise, except for an occasional trip to the South of France, I have hardly left London.

During the very first week of the present reign His Majesty King George, with that extraordinary kindness and consideration that he has always shown towards his father’s old servants and his own old comrades of the Navy, commanded me to Marlborough House, and there most graciously informed me that I might continue to occupy the rooms at St. James’ Palace that had been granted to me by the late King, and that, moreover, I was to receive the appointment of Groom-in-Waiting and Gentleman Usher. This dual office did not last very long, for when a vacancy occurred, through the death of General Sir Stanley Clarke, the King very kindly gave me the post of Sergeant-at-Arms in the House of Lords, which very pleasant appointment I still continue to hold, as well as another that I prize very highly, namely that of Extra Equerry to His Majesty the King.

During the few months that I was on the personal Staff of King George, I came in for one very interesting experience. Towards the end of the summer I was in attendance when the King, Queen Mary, and some of the younger members of the Royal Family, embarked on board the Royal Yacht for the purpose of witnessing the manoeuvres of the Home Fleet, then under the command of the present Admiral of the Fleet Sir Edward May. During these exercises the headquarters of the Fleet was Torbay, and there the Victoria and Albert generally anchored for the night, or remained during the day, while the King was on board one of the battleships of the Fleet. Though it is many years since I have served afloat, it is, even to this day, impossible for me to stand on the quarter-deck of a man-of-war without the sensation of being amongst familiar surroundings, so those days spent in the midst of old comrades were very pleasant ones, and remain to me as a very happy memory. I believe it was during that week that an aeroplane flew for the first time over a British Fleet. The plane in question was piloted by one of the pioneers of flying, who was giving an exhibition of aviation, and, naturally, seized such an opportunity as being the first man to fly over a British Fleet, a Fleet, moreover, that had the Royal Standard flying at a masthead. I have still among my belongings the photograph, here reproduced, of the King on the bridge of the flagship watching the movement of the plane as it approaches.

Before the end of the year 1910 the health of my poor old friend, Stanley Clarke, became so bad that he was unable to carry on his duties at the House of Lords as Sergeant-at-Arms, and it having been settled that I was to succeed him eventually, I officiated for him until the end of the session. Consequently, I am now about to commence the tenth year of my tenure there, and am becoming quite an old “Officer of the House.”

The day may come, perhaps, when there might be something written about events that have occurred, and speeches that have been made, in what the newspapers delight in calling the “Gilded Chamber,” but certainly as far as I am concerned the time is not yet, and meanwhile the only memory I will allow myself to mention is the passing of the Parliament Bill. For a man like myself, who has absolutely no politics, and is firmly convinced that the whole philosophy of governing and of government, is contained in the AbbÉ JÉrome Coignard’s delightful fable of the old woman of Syracuse, the assertions made across the table of the House are sometimes very interesting. Readers of Anatole France will remember that the old lady in question was living in Syracuse when the tyrant, Dionysius, was behaving more inhumanly than usual. Being asked by him why she daily prayed that his life should be spared, she replied, “I am very old, and have lived under many tyrants, and I have always noticed that each in turn, has been worse than the last. You are the most detestable one that I have yet come across; from which I conclude that your successor will be even more cruel than you are, so I pray daily to the gods that his arrival may be postponed for as long as possible.”

So, in this philosophical frame of mind, I could watch the manoeuvres connected with that measure with the greatest interest and complete impartiality. I remember speculating (in the case of the Lords throwing out the Bill) whether that long list, of I forget exactly how many scores of Peers, all to be at once created, that was supposed to be in Lord Morley’s pocket, ever really existed, or was only a gigantic bluff! My knowledge of politics was, and is, much too limited to enable me to form an opinion even now, but though knowing nothing of politics, I had played poker a good deal, and from that point of view I always believed the list to be a bluff, and a very successful one!

I have named these pages “Looking Back,” for the sufficient reason that, having permanently joined the ranks of the “fogies,” at my time of life it is pleasanter to look back than try to gaze into the future.

That life is beginning to be different, and is going to be increasingly so in this country, is a simple platitude, and whether the changes are going to be for the better or the worse, I know not. If the new order of things makes for the greater happiness of the greater number, then I suppose there is nothing more to be said, and “everything is for the best in the best of worlds.” The drawbacks seem, to my limited vision, to be that life will be apt to become terribly drab and level. The bricklayer having been long since limited as to the number of bricks he may lay, before long, Mr. Sargent may be limited by his Union to a fixed number of brush strokes, and that curious species of tyranny might be extended to every Art and Craft in the kingdom. Worst of all, with increasing Government control, we shall be apt to lose our liberty, which has already diminished perceptibly during the last few years. Liberty seems to me to be the most precious of all possessions, and the only one that is really worthy of a League to protect it. During the war it was inevitable that all sorts of control had to be exercised, but now that war conditions no longer exist, we do not seem to have the fetters struck off our wrists as rapidly as could be wished. It is difficult to understand some of the anomalies of Government control; for instance, why should dancing-halls be allowed to be kept open until two in the morning, whilst the inmates of respectable old-fashioned clubs are hounded into the street at 12 or 12.30, according to the day of the week? I am all for freedom, and am entirely in favour of the dancing-places being open all night if the proprietors prefer it, always supposing that ordinary clubs are allowed to live under their own rules. Personally, the much-criticised existing liquor control seems to me to be not only tyrannical, but ridiculous. I was brought up to believe that Magee was one of the ablest of our Churchmen of his own, or of any other time. He it was, who, in a great speech delivered in the House of Lords used the words, “I should say that it would be better that England should be free, than that England should be compulsorily sober,” and I entirely agree with him.

History teaches us that democracies in all times have been opposed to liberty, and it is the possible loss of freedom in the future that seems to me to be the coming danger to our beloved country. I am, in my humble way, as ardent a lover of liberty as was the poet Heine himself, so it is no comfort to feel that though this England of ours will surely survive the succeeding Governments, that will have charge of its destinies, each of which, according to Monsieur Anatole France, must automatically be worse than the last, its prosperity will avail us nothing, should we lose our most precious heritage, namely—our liberty.

THE END

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