Internal affairs, and particularly the parliamentary situation in Germany, had during the three or four years before that of the "November Storm" demanded a good deal of the Emperor's attention. The everlasting fight with the rebel angels of the Hohenzollern heaven, the Social Democracy, had been going on all through the reign. Now the Emperor would fulminate against it, now his Chancellor, Prince von Bülow, would attack it with brilliant ability and sarcasm in Parliament. Still the Social Democratic movement grew, still the Vorwärts, the party organ, continued to rail at industrial capitalists and the large landowners alike, still Herr Lucifer-Bebel bitterly assailed every measure of the Government. The fact seems to be that the people were getting restive under the imperial burdens the Emperor's world-policy entailed. The cost of living, partly as a result of the new German tariff, with maximum and minimum duties, which now replaced the Caprivi commercial treaties, was steadily rising. The Morocco episode had ended without territorial gain, if with no loss of national honour or prestige. The Poles were antagonized afresh by a stricter application of the Settlement Law for Germanizing Prussian Poland. Colonial troubles in South-west Africa with Herero and other recalcitrant tribes were making heavy demands on the Treasury.
The parliamentary situation was, as usual, at the mercy of the Centrum party, which, with its hundred or more members, can always make a majority by combining with Liberal parties of the Left (including the Socialists) or Conservative parties of the Right. In December, 1906, when the Budget was laid before Parliament, it was found to contain a demand for about £1,500,000 for the troops in South-west Africa. The Centrum refused to grant more than £1,000,000, and required, moreover, an undertaking that the number of troops in the colony should be reduced. The Social Democrats, with a number of Progressives and other Left parties sufficient to form a majority, joined the Centrum, and the Government demand was rejected by 177 to 168 votes. On the result of the voting being declared, Chancellor von Bülow solemnly rose and drew a paper from his pocket. It was an order from the Emperor dissolving Parliament.
The general elections were to be held in January following, and great efforts were made by the Emperor and Chancellor to secure a Government majority against the combined Centrists and Socialists. The country was appealed to to say whether Germany should lose her African colonies or not; a patriotic response was made, and, though the Centrum, as always, came back to Parliament in undiminished strength, the Socialists lost one-half of their eighty seats.
The Emperor, needless to say, was tremendously gratified. On the night the final results were announced he gave a large dinner-party at the Palace, and read out to the Royal Family and his guests the bulletins as they came in. Towards one o'clock in the morning the official totals were known. The streets were knee-deep in snow, but the people were not deterred from making a demonstration in their thousands before the palace. By and by lights were seen moving hurriedly to and fro along the first floor containing the Emperor's apartments. A general illumination of the suite of rooms followed, a window was thrown up, and the Emperor, bare-headed, was seen in the opening. Instantly complete stillness fell on the vast square, and the Emperor, leaning far out over the balcony, and evidently much excited, spoke in stentorian tones and with a dramatic waving of his right arm as follows: "Gentlemen!"—the "gentlemen" included half the hooligans of Berlin, but such are the accidents of political life—
"Gentlemen! This fine ovation springs from the feeling that you are proud of having done your duty by your country. In the words of our great Chancellor (Bismarck), who said that if the Germans were once put in the saddle they would soon learn to ride, you can ride and you will ride, and ride down, any one who opposes us, especially when all classes and creeds stand fast together. Do not let this hour of triumph pass as a moment of patriotic enthusiasm, but keep to the road on which you have started."
The speech closed with a verse from Kleist's "Prince von Homburg," a favourite monarchist drama of the Emperor's, conveying the idea that good Hohenzollern rule had knocked bad Social-Democratic agitation into a cocked hat.
The result of the elections enabled the Chancellor to form a new "bloc" party in Parliament, consisting of conservatives and Liberals, on whose united aid he could rely in promoting national measures. As the Chancellor said, he did not expect Conservatives to turn into Liberals and Liberals into Conservatives overnight nor did he expect the two parties to vote solid on matters of secondary interest and importance; but he expected them to support the Government on questions that concerned the welfare of the whole Empire.
Before 1907, the year we have now reached, Franco-German and Anglo-German relations had long varied from cool to stormy. They had not for many years been at "set-fair," nor have they apparently reached that halcyon stage as yet. During the Moroccan troubles it was generally believed that on two or three occasions war was imminent either between France and Germany or between Germany and England. That there was such a danger at the time of M. Delcassé's retirement from the conduct of French foreign affairs just previous to the Algeciras Conference is a matter of general conviction in all countries; but there is no publicly known evidence that danger of war between England and Germany has been acute at any time of recent years. Nor at any time of recent years has the bulk of the people in either country really desired or intended war. There has been international exasperation, sometimes amounting to hostility, continuously; but it was largely due to Chauvinism on both sides, and was in great measure counteracted by the efforts of public-spirited bodies and men in both countries, by international visits of amity and goodwill, and by the determination of both the English and German Governments not to go to war without good and sufficient cause.
Among the most striking testimonies to this determination was the visit of the Emperor to England in November, 1907.
The visit was made expressly an affair of State. The Emperor was accompanied by the Empress, and the visit became a pageant and a demonstration—a pageant in respect of the national honours paid to the imperial guests and a demonstration of national regard and respect for them as friends of England. Nothing could have been simpler, or more tactful or more sincere than the utterances, private as well as public, of the Emperor throughout his stay. His very first speech, the few words he addressed to the Mayor of Windsor, displayed all three qualities. "It seems to me," he said, "like a home-coming when I enter Windsor. I am always pleased to be here." At the Guildhall subsequently, referring to the two nations, he used, and not for the first time, the phrase "Blood is thicker than water."