Our special train that was to take us to Holland lefton Tuesday, so we had to be at the Embassy on Monday for our tickets. Though the tickets were not sold until eleven o'clock that morning, by nine many were waiting patiently to put in their orders. There were first, second and third class tickets sold, but these could only be bought by Americans. I tried to get one for our Swiss courier, but I was told that this was a special train for Americans, and so I had to leave him behind. As I look back to those few days spent in Berlin, many pleasant incidents in the midst of the Prussian capital in the throes of a world war recur to mind. One of these was the approach of the Kaiser, accompanied by a high government official, as they rode through the Brandenburger Thor along Unter den Linden to the ministry of war. He was simply swarmed by his people, who yelled, "Unser Kaiser! Unser Kaiser! Hoch! Hoch!" Although he appreciated their loyalty and patriotism, his face showed great care and worry and he seemed to have grown ten years older in a few weeks.
A pathetic incident was the great crowds of people who came and went out of the Dom Church Sunday morning, where they went to pray for strength and resignation. The crowd was so great that only Germans were allowed to enter church that morning. It was an inspiring sight to see men of all ages, accompanied by their wives, children or sisters, come out withresolute faces, realizing the danger but determined to give their all for the cause.
It was Tuesday afternoon that our special train was ready at five o'clock to take us from Berlin into Holland. Though the train was not ready much before five, hundreds of anxious Americans were on the platform by three in the afternoon. Most of them had plenty to do in the two hours before our train pulled out. Some had to look after their trunks, make sure that they were being placed in the baggage car, while those who were not fortunate enough to have trunks with them discussed at length the probability or lack of probability of ever having their luggage again. There were many people lost in the crowds; mothers had to look for their children, wives for their husbands. A large delegation of newspaper men and publishers appeared with high mounds of literature on the war, begging the Americans to see that this reading matter should be scattered broadcast in our country. Even more interesting were the crowds of American women left behind, who brought all the way from one to a dozen letters, asking us to post them when we reached New York. Many had tears in their eyes as they asked this favor, and not a single man or woman on that special train was hard-hearted enough to refuse. Among the number of women who came to me withletters was a sweet-faced brunette about thirty. She said that she had just made her début in Berlin with much success as a singer. This was what she had told her husband, along with the fact that she was living in a nice pension where she had become acquainted with a well-known tenor and his family, who were taking good care of her until she would be able to come home. She gave me all this information because her letter was written in German, and she feared I might not take it unless I knew its contents. In less than a quarter of an hour's time she returned with a large bouquet of roses, saying this was a mere expression of her appreciation.
Our train pulled out at five o'clock sharp with much yelling and waving of handkerchiefs and fans. Out of this noise one heard the cry, "Godspeed!" "Give my love to all the dear ones at home!" "Good luck!" "Auf wiedersehen!" which was answered by the refrain of the song, "Deutchland über Alles!"
This special train was packed with anxious-looking men, women and children. They seemed so happy to get out of a land of war into one of peace, that they never grumbled at the thought of sitting in a day coach thirty hours without any sleep except what they got napping.
All along the line we saw beautiful fields waiting forthe harvest to be taken in by the women and children. They were doing their best to supplement the work of their fathers and older brothers. Whenever they noticed our train pass and realized that we were Americans they waved their hands and shouted in friendly greeting. Our coupé had four seats, so by taking turns every one got a chance to rest an hour or two.
It was not until two o'clock the next day that our train reached Bentheim, which is on the Dutch frontier. Our train did not pull up to the platform as usual, so all the passengers in turn had the pleasure of taking a three-foot leap. This was the German side, so our luggage had to be examined before we could pass over the Dutch frontier. There were only two ticket windows for nearly three thousand people, so we were wedged in like sardines. There were no porters to carry our hand luggage, so we had to hoist it on as best we could. A short ride brought us to the Dutch frontier, where we were all told to get down and have our luggage, even to our hand luggage, examined again. As we could not get any porters many of us refused to get down, with the plea that we were refugees and not tourists.
When the custom officials saw that some of us stood firm, they boarded the train and examined our things in a superficial way. The more obedient, who did as they were told, fared badly by their obedience. Therewas such a mix-up inside that many came back minus valises, dress-suitcases, carry-alls, steamer coats, and even lost their seats in their coupés. The passengers were divided between Amsterdam, Rotterdam and The Hague. A large number of these were without steamer passage, but they were hurrying to Rotterdam determined to get something, even if it was steerage. There were plenty who had boarded our train without a dollar in their pockets beyond a railroad ticket to help them out, and they were trusting to good luck or what friendships they might make on the way for help. Many were loud in their praise of Mr. and Mrs. Gerard for the friendly advice and the financial aid they had been given by them. In spite of the hardships endured by the financial embarrassment, loss of trunks, lack of sleep, there was much humor and joviality, which is so valuable to the American people in difficult situations.
It was after one o'clock when we reached Wassenaar, a small suburb of The Hague. The hotel had been originally built for a golf club. It was a large, red brick building, set in a beautiful garden with such wonderful flowers as only Holland can grow. Surrounded by this splendid wealth of scenery, it was hard to imagine ourselves in the midst of countries that might be racked and ruined by war. The next morning we visited the Palace of Peace, handsome but imposingly simple. Aswe looked upon its splendid rooms, decorated with pictures dedicated to peace, it seemed a blasphemy to God and man that such a building should remain if men are to fight out their differences with the cruel weapons of modern warfare. For a short time we abandoned these disquieting thoughts and visited some of the lovely Dutch shops, where we found a few inexpensive souvenirs for our friends who were anxiously awaiting us at home. We had our luncheon in a quaint Dutch restaurant where dainty sandwiches and Dutch cakes were served on the prettiest of Delft china.
Then we hurried to our Embassy to find out if the Tennessee had landed, as we all expected letters and hoped for money from home. One of the clerks said that the Tennessee was expected in England that day and would probably reach the Dutch coast in a day or two. Our Embassy was crowded with Americans asking for passports, money and information. Mr. Van Dyke and his clerks, assisted by boy scouts, were working overtime to gratify all these demands.
A number of our clerks looked anxious that afternoon, as gossip had it that the German Consul had been called back to Berlin that day, and if Holland were thrown into war she would flood her entire country in less than twenty-four hours' time. Our men thought it was an exaggerated rumor, but still they wereadvising people to leave Holland as early as possible. As we hurried along the streets and past the vacant lots, we saw hundreds of soldiers going through their daily exercises so that they could join the regular army when needed.
There was a great crowd of people waiting before the palace, anxious to see their Queen start off for a daily drive. Soon the automobile appeared, carrying the Queen and a friend for a drive out in the woods. Though she has grown older she is as sweet and girlish as ever. Her friendly smile shows that she has the determination to meet cheerfully the most difficult situations that may confront her before the war is finished.
We were about to take the 'bus up to our hotel when one of our friends stopped us and said, "Are you willing to leave tonight if I can secure passage for us four on the Ryndam?" I was so surprised by this question that I thought our friend, who had been studying in one of the German clinics, was losing his mental balance as a result of overstudy and war talk.
"Go tonight!" I exclaimed. "Why, we only came at one o'clock this morning. No, indeed; war or no war, I want one week of rest in this lovely, peaceful country."
"This is no time to romance," he explained. "Youcan enjoy pastoral beauties in our own U. S. A. There is talk that Holland may go to war tonight. If she does she certainly will flood the country before she stands for any nonsense such as Belgium has." With this he helped us into the 'bus and boarded the five-o'clock train for Rotterdam, to take his chance of getting four tickets at the eleventh hour.
When I got on to my splendid terrace window overlooking the garden I was ready to sell out at any price. I argued that it was better to be shot than to go crazy, and I knew that fifty-six hours without sleep or three days and nights without sleep in a week was too much of a strain. The beauty of these rosebeds and ponds seemed to comfort my jaded nerves more than the happy thoughts of home.
So I took tea on the terrace and forgot all about an ocean voyage until the face of my watch announced it was six o'clock and time to pack. By seven our little party of three were ready for supper, but we had no idea whether we were going to stay that night. We had two auto-cars for our party of eight, in case the added four joined the two couples who had passage secured on the Ryndam.
Our friends waited until nine and then they got ready to go, fearing that they might miss their boat if they were detained any longer. They suggested thatthey would give all the assistance they could, even to besieging the captain to wait a little longer.
By ten the guests started to retire and most of the lights had been put out. The doctor's wife, who was a young married woman, tried to read an exciting story in one of the English monthlies, but she was so worried about her husband I am confident she did not know a word she was reading.
We tried to get the Holland American line at Rotterdam but the wires were not working—were out of order. Shortly before twelve o'clock we got a telegraph message sent over the telephone which said, "Tell the Americans to come to the Ryndam at once." The message sounded so strange, and, being unsigned, we feared it might be a plot to get us and that we were being suspected as spies. This did not frighten the doctor's wife, who insisted on going and looking for her husband. We gave orders for the automobile to be called, and the man answered he did not want to make an hour and a half trip at that time of night. I answered that he must come around at once and set his price. It was nothing more nor less than forty dollars, and he insisted on having every gulden of it before he would turn the crank of the car. There were a number of other delays, for we could not find a porter, and the room waiter refused to carry our baggage to thecar. Then the manager had promised to take us to Rotterdam, but he said it was too late for him to venture out in such times, and it was only when we offered the house porter a five-dollar bill that he consented to sit on the box with a revolver in his hip pocket.
Then our punctilious proprietor delayed us with our bill, for he was more anxious that he should not charge us one cent too much or too little than that we should catch our boat. We were even further delayed by feeing the help, who still stood around for their tips while our escort explained that money spoke in war times.
Finally we were off, and certainly this midnight ride compares favorably with Paul Revere's famous ride. I do not know how many kilometers we covered per hour, but I do know that if anything had bounced against us or we against anything we would not have lived to tell the tale. We went through deep woods, dark streets, through small villages and through long, narrow dams at breakneck speed. We had the right of way except for the tolls that had to be raised, for the soldiers watching at a distance and for an occasional drunkard that tumbled into the streets. We went so fast that every time our automobile took a bridge it flew several feet into the air. It was only kind Providence watching over us that saved us from being shot as spies—at least being taken prisoners. It was oneo'clock when we entered the Holland American office and gave up a good cabin on the Rotterdam for two berths in the auxiliary cabin on the Ryndam.
As we came on board we saw our ambassador, Mr. Van Dyke, tell some of his friends goodbye and wish them Godspeed. We stopped to hear some people exclaim, "My, that was a splendid speech—I guess he is sorry he is not going home—well, if a man wishes to be an ambassador he must do his duty and watch his people—I wonder how many of us will take his advice and keep neutral in thought on this trip." As soon as we got on board we found that ours was not a choice cabin. It was one of the forty cabins made in a week in the hold of the boat usually made to keep the trunks.
I decided not to go to our cabin that night, as it was nearly two o'clock before the boat pulled out, and then we sat around and chatted some time about the mines in the channel and the possibility of our boat striking one and being blown to pieces. When we tired of sitting on deck we went down into the dining salon and slept on benches in impromptu manner. To tell the truth of the matter, we were reaching a point where a few hours seemed a luxurious amount of sleep. Many who did not find the early morning air too brisk camped out on steamer chairs outside.
Next morning my mother and I went down to seewhat our cabin was like. After reaching the lower deck we had to climb down a small ladder to get to our room. The company had tried to make the hold attractive by arranging palms and flowers around the walls. The center of the hall was usurped by trunks, for about one-third of the first-class passengers had been fortunate enough to save their baggage. Some of the flat trunks were useful, for they served as chairs and benches when our cabins became too crowded during the day.
Much to our surprise, we found that our small cabin was designed for four people, though it was only large enough for two during the day. I gave my mother the lower berth, and then the question became pertinent how was I to scramble into the upper one. I made many futile attempts trying to bolt and then taking a turn at the ladder. I succeeded in reaching the last step, but only went so far as bumping my head against the ceiling when I tried to crawl in.
The lady who had the other lower berth soon saw that my efforts were futile, and since she was extremely slight she kindly offered me her lower berth. Unknown to the authorities, we sent the fourth occupant into our friend's room and reduced the number to three. Thus we had one less person in our room than the rest of the people in the auxiliary cabin, but we found outthat there were just two too many when rough weather came.
Though everybody on board that boat had said the day before they were willing to ride steerage and to suffer all conceivable hardships without complaint, providing they could get away from warlike Europe, our captain confessed that he never met so many complaining people at one time in his life.
This was just a little annoying to him when he remembered that he had already been placed as a naval officer on a Dutch man-of-war, and he had only been recalled because he knew where the mines lay, and the company felt he was competent to steer our ship safely out of the harbor.
Many of the passengers only muttered in a low voice as long as they were in the channel, for they feared the floating mines, though not a single mine broke loose and floated near our vessel. We were met by a number of English naval war boats. The ugliest of these was a small torpedo boat which stopped us before we were out of the English Channel. Our boat cried "Halt!" as soon as we saw this little English racer coming toward us with her guns leveled toward our bow. As soon as we were near enough to hear her words one of her officers gave the following queries: "Where do you come from?" "From Holland," was the prompt reply."What have you on board?" "A cargo of humans," answered the captain, loud and clear.
"Where are you bound for?" came the pertinent answer.
"For New York," they were told. Then came the fearless command:
"You may follow me to Scilly Island, where we will examine your papers, and if they are satisfactory you may go on unmolested."
It was just luncheon time when our boat stopped and two of the English officers came on board to examine our papers. Before going up to the bridge he went down into the hold and looked at the baggage and into the cabins. After examining our papers carefully they found the nearest approach to German enemies were naturalized German Americans. With English tact, they chatted with some of the men awhile and then went down the side of the boat and were off.
We encountered a number of English men-of-war on our way out of the English Channel but were only held up twice. As soon as they saw our papers signed up by the first man-of-war they let us go very promptly. As soon as we got out of the channel away from mines and men-of-war our tired, jaded refugees began to nag the purser from early morning till late at night. There were those who said that they consented to go steeragebecause they thought steerage was fixed up like first cabin. When they saw that their complaints were futile they sent over one socialist leader to have it out with the overworked purser. The passenger exclaimed: "I tell you it is an outrage, we are not immigrants but good American citizens. I do not look like an influential man here but I am a strong factor in the socialist party in New York, and I will make this company look sick when I get there."
In marked contrast to this burly, rough man was the refined New England woman, a professor in one of our leading girls' colleges. She begged the purser to try and find three berths for her and two of her colleagues in either the first or second cabin, and asked if he in the meantime would see that the steerage was cleaned up and made a little more comfortable. A few days later I saw this professor walking on the first promenade deck telling some of her friends she felt like a culprit taking a first-class berth while her friends were left behind. More than a half-dozen worthies were brought over from the third cabin to the first. A college girl was among this number, who had been travelling with her brother. She had gotten into our cabin by mistake, and when I explained to her that her room was around the corner she begged me to leave her things in our room until she found her cabin,and she said: "I was in hysterics for joy when my brother took me out of the third class, and I know I shall die if I have to go back there."
There was a talented blind boy pianist who had been travelling with a friend giving concerts abroad and a committee of wealthy men brought him into the first class; he had such a sweet, kind face, I am sure he was as uncomplaining among the steerage as he was after he had been provided with a comfortable berth. Though there were not enough first-class cabins for all the women and children found in the third, the committee of wealthy men went down every day and saw that the steerage was kept as clean as possible. But there were just as many complaints among the first-class passengers, for those down in the auxiliary cabins tried to get rooms on the promenade deck, or at least have the privacy of their own rooms. Most of them who were at all comfortably placed found their complaints useless.
Gradually these passengers became more resigned, for we had five days of rough weather, and many of them were too seasick to worry about where they could lay their heads. A few of the humorous people on board soon discovered that the auxiliary cabins were all marked four hundred, so we dubbed ourselves "The Four Hundred"; because of the flowers we dubbed itthe Palm Garden or the Ritz Carlton. As soon as the weather moderated some of the enthusiastic women were busy getting up a Red Cross collection for Germany. Then there was a petition gotten up by some German Americans, thanking the Germans for the kindly treatment the Americans had been accorded. The men in the meanwhile occupied themselves wondering if the stock exchange had been closed, discussing the merchants' marine and the duty of our increasing the navy.
One night we had a terrible electric storm which was a beautiful sight. It was so strong it fairly lit up the rooms, but every time a crash came we thought our end was near. The women, who were most afraid of the storm felt doomed; they got dressed and went up into the upper cabin, concluding that they would rather be shot at by cannon than to be drowned at sea. The climax to all of our troubles was the making out of our declaration and being held in quarantine at Ellis Island. Many objected to this treatment and argued that they were good American citizens and not immigrants. This was not much more than a form, for the health officers only glanced at our papers. It is strange what an influence this war had on women's consciences. There was not one woman who had been born in this country, though she had lived abroad several years, thatwished to call herself a non-resident. In spite of heavy luggage lost the women were so glad to get home that they made most honest declarations. As our boat landed the dock was so packed it was hard to distinguish our friends among the thousands standing on land waving their hands and shouting a welcome home. Since we only had dress-suitcases left our baggage was soon inspected, and in less than a half-hour later we found ourselves in a comfortable New York hotel. It only took a hurried breakfast and a refreshing bath to make me soon forget my own hardships. Still, I shall never forget the suffering I saw as I fled from the horrors of war, and I am now confident that the expression "War is hell" is as sure and true as the fact that there are stars in heaven.
Have you ever been to war? Unless you can boast of the Civil War or the Spanish-American War this question may sound futile.
Have you ever seen a manœuvre? Unless you have been an invited guest at one of the French or German manœuvres you have but a faint idea of what a gigantic review for active military service is.
Have you ever seen a mobilization? Probably not, unless you were one of those who rallied around our flag in the Spanish-American War or in the late Mexican crisis.
Much as you may have read how the European countries have been gathering their forces, it is all a faint picture compared with the actual gigantic work that has been taking place during the early periods of the war.
Until I had seen a small part of this tremendous work, I had always thought of mobilization as the task of gathering a certain number of regiments led by their officers, and sending them off with their horses, cannon and provisions to a point of attack. Though these are all a small part of a great undertaking, mobilization isa gigantic, living, breathing, throbbing force, where millions of men may act in concerted action and still every individual must play a small part in this melodramatic action.
I was fortunate enough to have been in Germany when the word was sounded that Russia was mobilizing, and that Germany would do the same unless Russia gave her some satisfactory explanation for her aggressive action.
When no answer came, at least no satisfactory reply, a declaration was made that Germany was mobilizing. What did this mean? It meant the bringing together of the most perfectly trained and equipped military force of modern times. For just as England has seen to it that she may retain the proud title of "Commander of the Seas," Germany has been equally proud of her magnificently equipped military forces.
It may take years to answer the question whether this army was being organized and trained for aggression to make other nations bow to Germany's will, or whether the intelligence of the German nation realized that the issue at stake during the Franco-Prussian War had not been threshed out and would have to be answered later. For, as Bismarck said in a conversation with the interviewer, W. B. Richmond, "Germany is a new empire and it must be protected from possibleassault by one or two or both powers, one to the east, the other to the west of us. You must remember that the next war between France and Germany must mean extinction for one. We lie between two lines of fire; France is our bitter enemy and Russia I do not trust. Peace may be far more dishonorable than war, and for war we must be prepared. Therefore, while Germany's very life as a nation is at stake, I cannot give the attention that I would otherwise wish to as regards the encouragements of the arts of peace, however much I may believe them to be, as you say, necessary to the highest development of the nation as a whole."
The German people of all classes were familiar with this prophecy, therefore they were not surprised, and more, they were prepared, when Russia and France in turn threw down the gauntlet of war. In most of the cities and towns you heard the familiar words spoken by men of all ranks, "Well, it doesn't matter much; it had to come, today or tomorrow, only the allies had planned to wait three years longer; then the French soldiers would have their three years' service and the Russian Army would have been reorganized. The allies thought that we might be found napping, but we are pretty well awake, and it is to be a fight to a finish."
Therefore, when the word mobilization was spokenthroughout Germany it was more than a call. It meant that every boy and man capable of carrying a gun was more than ready—he was dead anxious to join his regiment and die for his country. Whatever a man's rank might be, whatever his daily occupation was, and however responsible the work, he forgot it all in the eagerness to go to the front. One day I happened to be in a large bank in Berlin when the president received his call. He read it as though he were getting an an invitation to a Bankers' Association banquet instead of its being a call to go to the front. He had all his affairs in shape to go, and after a short talk with some of the directors and a friendly goodbye to his associates, he closed his large rolltop desk, put his hat upon his head and was off.
I chanced to be in a restaurant in Berlin one day when I noticed a group of soldiers already dressed in their dark gray uniforms drinking their afternoon coffee and smoking their cigars leisurely. Between the puffs of smoke, I heard the following conversation: "Shooting down Frenchmen will be rather different work than singing Sigfried and Tannhauser at a thousand dollars a night."
"You musn't be so mercenary," answered another. "A campfire and a bed on the ground will make me appreciate the comforts of a New York hotel anotherseason, more than the other, while sauerkraut and Wiener wurst are fair exchange for lobster à la Newburg and chicken patties."
While a third piped up, "I know I will have a more enthusiastic audience when I sing the Wacht am Rhine to my regiment than I have when I sing Rigoletto on first nights in New York."
The same enthusiasm was shown by painters, sculptors and writers of all kinds. What was a thought on paper, on canvas or in stone now compared with the privilege of doing service for one's country!
While the first regiments were being called out, more than one million reserves had offered themselvesfreiwillig. They were willing to go and take any place, even the most dangerous, in any regiment, just as long as they could serve their country.
One day I met a hairdresser who had two sons; the one had been called into service and the other had enlisted and was to be called out in two weeks. When I asked the father if he did not object to having both sons leave he said, "It is better to have them go than to have them grumbling every day at home because they cannot help the fatherland."
A few days later I met two young men on a train. They were tired, dirty and impatient. The explanation for all this was that they had offered themselves ata neighboring ministry of war and were refused because there were too many reserves on hand.
About the same time a young girl told me seven of her relatives had been called into service. One of her brothers-in-law was disqualified, for he had been hurt while doing his one year military service. Still he was determined to go, and applied at six different ministries of war before he was finally accepted to help build up the Landsturm.
More than two-thirds of the great physicians and surgeons of Germany are in the war. Many of these are volunteers. Those who are too old for active service are doing their duty in hospitals or in the Red Cross field. But many who could do this lighter work are fighting in their regiments. As one well-known German physician said to me, "No, indeed, I want to go with my regiment. When my country is at peace I am willing to look after the sick, but now it is time for me to fight. I wish it were today, for two days seems like two months when a man is ready to go."
I saw another physician work all day until nine o'clock in the evening; though he had received his commission at seven, he continued his work as though nothing had happened. Then he gathered a small package of papers which probably contained important letters and money, which he handed over to the physician inthe institute. He then hurried to his room and put on his military clothes—they were those of a third-class military officer. The change in costume seemed to make a different man of him. He was no longer a physician but a war hero. He bade each one goodbye in turn, even to the scrub-women, saying he hoped that they would all meet again next year, and then he hurried to his room to get a few hours of sleep as he had to leave at five next morning. The only care he had on his breast was what would become of his mother—a dear old lady of seventy, whom he loved very much—if anything should happen to him.
One day while walking across the country road, I stepped up to a farmer and said: "When do you go to the war?"
"Next week," came the blunt reply.
"And who will do your work while you are gone?"
"What's a buxom wife and four sturdy children good for if they can't do a man's work when he is off at war?"
The same readiness to go before they were called was as paramount among university students as it was among the farmers and merchants. A corps of young Heidelberg students offered themselves and asked that they be taken in one regiment. This wish was sent to the Emperor and was granted them. Even theyounger students were too much fired by the desire to help to stay at home. One day I came across a young boy seventeen years old, hurrying with full might to get to Kiel, where he had an appointment on a naval boat. He was a handsome, sturdy lad of fine feeling, but he felt it was necessary to fight, and if need be to die for his country. He explained that he was the only son of a widowed mother, but even his great love for her could not check him.
Even the younger boys ranging from the age of fourteen to sixteen felt that they were shirking their duty because they could not go. I heard one young boy say to his grandmother, "Isn't it too bad I am only fourteen; if I were only two years older I might do something for my country."
"Be patient, and your turn will come," said the old lady, good-naturedly.
This eagerness to go was a great aid in hurrying the mobilization. Hundreds of officers who were off on their summer vacation hurried back without an instant's delay. In all the cities, and even in the small towns and villages, the commons and kurgartens were turned into training-grounds for the reservists, and meeting-places for those enlisted.
Though I saw more than fifty thousand men called out in one Bavarian center, in two weeks' time everyman was there to take the oath and to get his military clothes at the very minute appointed. As they donned their blue military uniform, they had no idea that another special suit was awaiting them when they should get into active service.
There were hundreds of thousands of earth-colored uniforms kept in reserve that no one knew anything about, except the ministry and the highest German officials. There was no disorder, no wasting of time, no asking of foolish questions—every man was a unit in a great whole. From a common soldier to the highest officer, they were ready to do their work intelligently and enthusiastically. The only emotion they showed was an impatient enthusiasm to get across the German frontier and into active service as soon as possible. They knew that this war was to be one of life and death and a fight to the finish, but all fear was forgotten in a hope of being able to do something for their country. They often explained the situation by drawing two circles, one within the other—one very large, and one extremely small—as they said, "When you come again Germany is bound to look like one of these circles."
When the mobilization was ordered, every farmer brought his horses to the town, where they were inspected. The horses found strong enough for battlewere taken, and the others were sent back to the farm. The same thing happened to the automobiles—they were taken without a word of notice—the government kept those that they wanted and returned the others.
Though hurrahs, songs and laughter mingled with the tramp of feet as fifty thousand soldiers formed in line and hurried to the front, this was only a small part of a great picture. All day long in Berlin we saw officers flying along in automobiles hurrying to the ministry of war to get their instructions, and then hastening off to the front. They all seemed ready and self-reliant.
The nights were not wasted in Berlin, where they were used for manœuvres to try out the forty or more Zeppelins which Germany owns. Even the passenger Zeppelins, known to many Americans for the trips they made through the Black forest, have been turned into war dirigibles. Count Zeppelin himself had offered his personal services to take charge of his invention. It was said new factories were being opened to turn out two new air-crafts each month. Though the Krupp works at Essen had been working right along making new siege-guns and special bombs for Germany, it was said that the factory had put on a large force of men who were working night and day to make an added supply of ammunition. On my way fromBavaria to Prussia I saw a number of automobiles flying across the country carrying their officers to the front. Now and then a Zeppelin flew overhead practicing before it should venture into France or Russia.
Most interesting of all were the military trains, forty-two in number, packed with soldiers and their officers. Though some of them were wedged so tight they had little moving space, they laughed, smoked, and waved good-naturedly as they were being hurried across the frontier.
I saw many regiments hurried, at meal-time, into depots. They were led across into open fields where large, wooden houses with many wooden benches had been erected. The work was being done under contract, and in this way thousands of soldiers were fed in a short time.
The baggage cars were crowded with cavalrymen and their horses. Though their horses and the straw in the car were immaculately clean, these soldiers were less well off than the infantrymen in the third-class coupés, for it seemed to me that the horses were getting more than their share of the room.
Besides these regular coupés, there were many freight cars which carried all kinds of canned goods and other provisions. Others carried a great number of small collapsible boats, which are used as pontoonsin crossing rivers. More interesting than all this were the cannons. Some of these were the common cannons, while now and then loomed a great siege-gun.
I was told that the cannon-balls, bombs and other explosives were carried into the country at night, as they did not want to take any chance of igniting and killing the soldiers.
Besides those designed for active warfare, many were used to carry messages over the battlefields and for the Red Cross service. I saw dozens and dozens of handsome automobiles lined up on these car-trucks carrying messengers and doctors across the frontier.
But German mobilization means every precaution possible for their country as well as foreign aggression. Now and then I passed gangs of workmen making ditches and trenches, repairing railroad tracks and laying new ones. Every station was guarded by one or more sentries, according to its size. They kept their eyes on every passenger who went in and out of the station, and when they were the least bit doubtful they asked for one's passport on short notice. I shall never forget a picture of the morning I breakfasted at six o'clock in Erfurt. I and some friends were just seated at table when a sentry approached us and asked for our passports. He scrutinized each one carefully, and when he was satisfied we were not spies he left us andapproached a group of Russians. They looked as exhausted as they were frightened as they explained they had gotten permission to go home. When they reached the frontier they were told they could not go across, and they found so many of their countrymen on the border that there was not half room enough for them, and they were on their way back.
Everywhere there were vigilant watchers looking for spies. Some were so alert that they tried to make Russians out of harmless American refugees, while others went so far as to accuse them of being spies. I myself was sometimes accused of being a Russian, and had hard work to prove my identity. Those Americans who had the daring to venture out in their automobiles got the worst of it. The soldiers on watch thought nothing of shooting at their cars and taking the innocent occupants prisoners. A gentleman and his wife who went from Baden-Baden in the Black Forest to Bad Kissingen were shot at and arrested five times before they got there. Word was brought to the village that some French spies were coming and that they should wait for them. The mob was there to greet them with pitchforks and axes, and when they saw the French car the peasants were sure that these were the people they were after.
The case became more complicated, as none of theparty, including the chauffeur, could speak German, and only understood their gesticulations—not their threats and volleys. They were only saved from being shot by the appearance of two officers who, after examining their pockets carefully, found some American papers and letters. Still, these officers did not wish to rely on their own judgment, and so they took their prisoners to the burgomeister. He explained that he could not give any opinion until he took their films from their kodak and had them developed. Their innocence rested on the kind of pictures they had taken. As the woman told her story, she said, "It was only a miracle that her husband hadn't taken pictures of soldiers, as that was his favorite kind of photography."
Next day the burgomeister returned the kodak and the developed films, explaining he was sorry he had detained them, and he did not see any reason why they should not go on. So he sent the soldier who had been guarding them day and night to act as their protector.
They had only gone a short way when they were arrested in another town, and they had to go through another trial to prove their innocence. They said that their experience in being arrested was becoming commonplace by the time they reached their destination. Some of these guards were so vigilant that theylost their heads completely and accused innocent women of all ages as spies.
I was traveling on a train one day when I heard a terrible noise in a neighboring coupé. Word had been telegraphed that there was a Russian spy dressed as a German officer. In his coupé there sat an American man and his wife and a German friend, and they were accused of being his accomplices. Some of the mob boarded the train, leveled revolvers in their faces, and were ready to drag them all off, when they were stopped by some higher officials. After half an hour's questioning and searching of pockets, the Americans were let go, and the foreigner was taken off and shot as a spy.
Vigilant as were the officials about catching every spy, they were equally anxious to protect the lives of every innocent man and woman, especially the Americans. At night our trains were never allowed to start off until the rails had been carefully inspected, to see that there were no bombs on the track, and not the smallest bridge was left unguarded.
After the regular army was called out, there was a lull for ten days, and then came the starting of the Landsturm. These included the young boys and those ordinarily considered too old for active service. Some of these were sent right to the front, and others wereput into six weeks' training ready to fill in the gaps when they should be needed.
There is no feeling of rivalry in the Germany army, for every man feels he has a post to fill and that he can do a small part in winning a real victory. As they love to explain, every man is equal on the battlefield, whether he be a prince or only a poor peasant boy, whether he be a general or a common soldier; as they march on to death or victory day after day, and week after week, they are inspired by the words: "Unser Gott, unser Vaterland, und unser Kaiser"—"Our God, our Fatherland, and our Emperor."
It was this inspiration that made the Reichstadt vote ninety million dollars at once. It was that which called the socialist party along with the democrats to arms. It was that which made the Emperor tell his people: "I forgive everything—we are all Germans." It has been this inspiration that changed small petty states into a large imperial government. It was this inspiration that changed a strong German horde into a people that loved culture, art and education. It was their patriotism that made them brandish the sword in one hand because they feared their enemies and still kept their other hand and brain free to work for social uplift. They have created cities of which they may well be proud, adorned with beautiful theatres,opera-houses, parks, statues and public gardens. Patriotism was the fount at which they drank, and it has created such master minds as Goethe, Schiller, Wagner and Gerard Hauptmann.
I believe that a nation that loves home and fireside and romance as much as do the Germans energized a great standing army for protection and not for war. I believe that their methods may have been wrong, but that their heart was right; for a nation that has faith in God, in their ruler, and in their country, a nation that spends its energy for music and beauty, may be misunderstood, but such a people cannot hate their fellow-men.
When word was given that the German Empire had declared war, it was known that she had nine hundred thousand men at a cost of two hundred and fifty million dollars on hand. But the mobilization of her several million troops at the end of the first week increased the cost to many times that amount. This did not frighten her, as her chest at Spandau had been swelled from thirty millions to ninety millions. This was enough to last for three months. When it was found out the other day that the war would last for some months longer, the National Bank of Germany, along with many other German banks, raised enough money on bonds to keep Germany going until after Christmas, without making a war loan, though the cost to France and England is somewhat less individually, still it amounts to nearly the same when the two countries are taken together. A conservative cost of the war per day is fifteen millions, of which Germany is said to spent eight millions.
Paul Leroy-Beaulieu, the French economist,estimates that each of the greater belligerents is spending an average equivalent to $200,000,000 monthly.
In presenting these figures to the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences today (October 17th), he said that he considered it probable that the war would continue for seven months from August 1st.
Accordingly, the five greater powers engaged were committed to an expenditure of $7,000,000,000. Each of the smaller states, including Japan, will have expenses of from $600,000,000 to $800,000,000 to meet.
"One might say that the war will cost the fighting powers roughly from $9,000,000,000 to $10,000,000,000," M. Leroy-Beaulieu continued. "These figures, which do not take into account the losses of revenue during hostilities, will be met.
"The larger part of the savings of the world will be absorbed by the taking up of national loans, and economic progress will be seriously checked."
These figures are only a small part of the entire cost. It is not unusual to read of thirty to fifty thousand men being slaughtered in one great engagement, and about the same number being taken prisoners.
Germany has in three months already put more than three millions into actual combat, with a reserve of two millions, and she can raise ten millions if necessary. On the other hand, the allies say if Paris is lost itmust be retaken; if one million of allied reinforcements are not enough to accomplish it, there will be two millions and three millions.
These numbers represent the flower of European civilization, for only the sane and healthy are valued in war. These men include hundreds of the ablest scientists from the Pasteur Institute in Paris, from the private and government laboratories in Berlin, Frankfurt and Freiburg.
Along with these are the great professors of all the sciences and the liberal arts, many of whom are world-renowned in the great universities of Europe. Included in this magnificent rank and file are the painters, sculptors, musicians, along with the celebrated architects. These men rise to the tens and hundred thousands, and every time one of these men goes down we are reminded of the fact that he may never be replaced, and it will take many centuries to give back a little of the culture and genius they represent.
But the backbone of a nation is its agricultural force. The German farmers and foresters are a pride to their nation. Nearly every one of these has been called or volunteered in the ranks and files, and already many thousands have been food for the cannon and guns. Their wives and children are trying hard to do theirpart to replace the work, but all they can give is a feeble effort.
The same is true of France, which has the richest fields in the world. Most of the soil yields two harvests. These farmers take wonderful pride in their farms and truck-gardens, and when the great painters, Millet and Corot, dedicated their genius, they found worthy subjects for their brush. I have traveled through miles of this farmland in France, and its beauty was a splendid poem of what God had helped man to do. Much of the rich vineyard and champagne country has been destroyed by war and neglect, and it will take years of hard toil before it can be repaired.
When this war was less than two months old, whole towns, such as Louvain, Bruges and Rheims had been laid in waste. This destruction has meant the loss of thousands of homes, public buildings, churches and cathedrals, and priceless works of art.
It has also meant the destruction of many miles of railroad, river and ocean transportation, and the closing of thousands of factories.
It has called forth a sudden demand for certain quantities of ammunition, horses, wagons, hospital supplies, fuel, food and clothing, with a great increase in prices on these products.
Credit, which has been the natural and easiest way to carry on business between individuals and nations, has been put at naught. As a result, paper and silver have depreciated in value, and people begin to want gold, for in war gold is the only medium of exchange one can be sure of. Unfortunately, at the present time, there is not enough gold to do the world's business, and owners of securities, day after day, have been trying to sell their stocks and bonds for gold.
In many countries the governments have had to declare moratorium, which means that none need pay their rent and debts until further notice.
The world's trade has been paralyzed; as a result, most of the stock exchanges of the world have had to shut down. The New York Stock Exchange and the Chicago Board of Trade are included in this number, because if they kept open the foreign countries would exchange their shares and bonds for gold, and much of our gold would be carried to the other side.
Because of our added diplomatic responsibilities abroad, we have had to raise one million dollars, and also two and a half millions for the Americans stranded on the other side. Many of our factories have closed because they dealt in a heavy export trade and for which at present there is no demand. Most noticeable in these trades are the manufactures of cotton, ofmetal, agricultural and other machinery, copper and lubricating oils. Many others of our industries are without the goods which they import from abroad, including silks, wines, hides and skins, dyes, nitrate of soda, china, etc.
This war has been such a jar to industrial conditions that many manufacturers are reducing their daily output considerably, while others who have a capital are afraid to invest, and are hoarding it in the banks.
Though it is impossible to say how long this war will last, one thing is sure, the loss to trades the world over is great and will increase as time goes on. Worse still than the loss of trade and productive labor is the fact that actual capital is being destroyed, being really burned up.
When the war is over there will be an enormous war debt to pay, and the loans on money will be high. This destruction of wealth and property means that many of the countries of the world will be poor for fifty years at least, and the value of railroad and other stocks in America and Europe will depreciate.
When the men of the world return to work, there will be a great fall in prices because of the greater amount of productive work, and it may result in a fall, at least a temporary fall in wages, though wages willincrease after things are once more established. This war may be a boon to the financial and industrial life of our country and give us many new marts of trade in commerce, but while the war lasts it will mean financial strain and hard times in many industries. It certainly will cripple European life, civilization and culture for fifty years.
The game of war is a dangerous and expensive one; it means the building of great war-boats, torpedoes and other submarines, as well as air-destroyers, along with the manufacture of bombs, mines, powder, etc. This war shows that the game is being played on such colossal scale that it may take many millions every year to add to the army, navy and air-craft. It is not to be forgotten that a great man-of-war costs from three to five million dollars, and a good torpedo boat many hundred thousands. The shooting of a cannon ball of a siege-gun means an expenditure of three thousand dollars for each fire, and it takes four shots to pierce a heavy fortification. The siege-gun can only be used about thirty times, and then it is useless. If this game of war is to be continued, it will mean the burning up of capital, depriving men and women of every luxury and many necessities for much of the energy of the world, and no less of the money must be used to that end. Do you not hear a song morebeautiful than the cries and groans of war? Do you not hear the call of life and creation, the making of more homes and the caring for those homes? Many hundred years ago men knew the game of war and practiced it, because they were savages, and in this way earned their livelihood. It was only after they rose from savages and barbarians to civilized men that they laid their bows and arrows aside to cultivate the arts of peace. On all sides are seen results of this work—in busy factories, in the laying of cables, in the building of railroads, in their engineering feats, and in the stretching of wires overhead. Their towns grew until they became cities and capitals, made splendid by fine pavements and sidewalks, adorned with many handsome public buildings, gates, fountains, statues, etc. A testimony of all this beauty and energy is seen in such capitals as Berlin, Paris, London and Washington. These cities have given pleasure to millions of people, and this beauty has had large commercial value to these countries. These capitals are a pride to the people who live there, and a never-forgotten pleasure to those who have spent happy days visiting their libraries, picture galleries, museums and gardens. Two of these cities, Berlin and Paris, are splendid examples of what can be done where there is plenty of civic pride. Berlin is a symbol of law and order in its large,well-kept streets, splendid gardens and imposing public buildings. Paris is a woman's city—it breathes with joy and artistic grace. This note is symbolized on a sunny afternoon at the Place de la Concorde, and in the Bois in the springtime, when you see thousands of happy children at play.
These two cities, along with our own beautiful capital adorned with its many handsome avenues, public buildings and private mansions, testify for uplift and civic pride. It will be impossible to have many beautiful cities and to improve our civic conditions if we go on playing this awful game of war, which means the destruction of capital and what man has made. But if we disarm and make other nations disarm after gratifying the most immediate needs, there will be plenty of money left for libraries, great and small, libraries for the city, and libraries for the town, for museums and galleries, for public universities, for parks and gardens adorned with statues and fountains, for the building of bridges and the making of good roads. These are the things that are beautiful and worth while. They are the complement to nature's work and God's work, and the sun will glorify them during the day and the stars will bless them at night, for creation and not destruction is the purpose of this universe.
The questions uppermost in the minds of many people are: "How will the war end? When will it end? Who is in the right? and Who is in the wrong?"
Since our country has declared neutrality, there is only one thing for every sensible American to do—to have sympathy for every man who has been called to the front, and for every family left worrying and in want at home.
There are a number of questions that enter into this war. Foremost among these is militarism. There is not a country at war today that believes that a government is made for its people, their theory being that a people belongs to its government. Therefore it is the interest of the country, not the interest of the individual, that counts. This idea is part and parcel of the old feudal form of government, where there were a few mighty feudal lords and many vassals or dependents. These dependents lived on the estates of their lords and got their sustenance from them. In turn they had to swear life and death allegiance to their lords, fight for them in times of danger,accompany them on crusades and amuse them in time of peace in jousts and tournaments.
Though feudalism as a form of government is no longer fashionable, it still survives in spirit. Thousands of men are employed in Europe in different ways by their governments or by their monarchs, and they are in honor bound to fight for these kings and princes. In times of danger, these men are employed on railroads belonging to the government, working in palaces or on royal estates, or in the army. There are many old towns in Europe where you see feudal palaces perched on high hills or overhanging crags. These were protected by drawbridges, moats or great encircling walls. All that remain of their past glory are the deserted ruins, mouldered walls and drawbridges, but the spirit of these feudal rulers still remains. They now live in capitals in the winter and on lovely estates in the summer. They have from five to twenty estates apiece. Many of these places are only used a few weeks out of the year. Their permanent residences are adorned with priceless furniture, tapestries and ornaments. These are kept up by a retinue of servants, while even those that are occupied for a short time call for plenty of care and expense for their maintenance.
Hard though it is to believe, there are palaces thathave been twenty years in the process of building and are still not completed. When a new monarch comes to the throne it is not unusual to have his palace refurnished from top to bottom. Entertaining at these courts means a great expenditure of money, for their china-closets are crowded with priceless china, finest glass, silver and gold service for all occasions. Though the menus planned for any of these state affairs are costly, the great extravagance comes in the fine wine-cellars, rare fruits, and the hot-house flowers used for decorations. I have walked over royal estates for a half-day without reaching their limit. The place included summer houses, pagodas, alleys, private promenades, stables and carriage-houses.
More than one royal stable in Europe has more than two hundred royal carriages. Among these are coronation coaches, state coaches, funeral coaches, guest coaches and private coaches. The finest of these are lacquered with silver and gold, while the harnesses and whips are made of real silver and gold. The private carriages include landaus, victorias, and a great number of fine automobiles. Many of these are used only a year or two, and then are sold or exchanged for others.
Even more splendid are the stables, which include fine horses and beautiful ponies gathered from manyparts of Europe and the Orient. The caring of these horses involves much work and cost. I have seen as many as a hundred men at work caring for one of these royal stables. Some of these horses have rare pedigrees and need excellent care. They are not used on all occasions—some are kept for state functions, others for private use, and still others for military practice.
A court is not complete without handsome coronation jewels to be worn at coronations and great state balls. These include priceless crowns studded with diamonds, pearls, sapphires; vieing with these are ropes of pearls, pearl and diamond rings, high orders set with diamonds, rubies and emeralds, and gold swords with hilts set with brilliants and rubies.
A country might have all these things, and still she would be lacking in dignity unless she had her own royal guard. These stand watch day and night to guard the palace, and to change guards is accompanied with so much ceremony that it often takes an hour's time. If it takes a royal guard of nearly a thousand men to protect a palace, it requires a good-sized standing army and navy to protect any of these royal countries. The newest of these countries can boast that her army is not an integral part of her government. Even France, which is a republic in name, is a militaryform of government; it is the army and the army man that has the last word to say.
A part of this royal system of government is colonization. Just as Spain counted her power and wealth in her colonies, so do most of the other European powers do so today. England gets much of her strength and wealth from her colonies—they work for her, give her men in times of danger, and permit her to control the channel with courage and boats. Her imperialism gave her the courage to tell us that she claimed certain rights to the Panama Canal because of the Hay-Pauncefote treaty. Though India and Canada have brought her much wealth and strength, many say that she has looked upon Java, Holland's rich possession, with an envious eye, while much of her friendship for France is based on her African possessions.
Though France has not an enormous population, she always speaks of her need of more territory which she has found in Morocco, while even the smaller countries, such as Belgium and Holland, have valued their colonies as their greatest prize.
Germany is the last of the great powers to look for colonies. This she has done because she found her own territory too small for her growing population. After looking about carefully, she found out the easiest way to enlarge her territory was to get more controlin Africa. The question was finally settled when France gave her a small part of the Congo. This was done almost at the price of the sword and the bayonet, and France and England then decided that they would cry halt if Germany tried for any other extension of territory in Africa. At the same time France had not forgotten that she had given Alsace-Lorraine to Germany by the treaty of 1871, and she hoped to get it back again some time in the future.
Russia and Austria had not been friends for many years, and Germany increased this feeling for herself when she made an alliance with Austria in 1879. Russia had always looked upon Austria as her chief enemy, and she was greatly irritated by Germany's alliance. Russia thought by joining hands with France she would offset the power of Germany and Austria. The Triple Entente thus faced the Triple Alliance.
England, isolated from the continent of Europe, was not worried by the triple alliance until she saw Germany spring up as a great commercial nation. She looked upon Germany as her chief commercial rival, for she saw the trade-mark "Made in England" gradually being supplanted by that "Made in Germany."
English merchants managed to tolerate German merchants in the markets of Europe, but when England saw that Germany was beginning to build up astrong sea-power, she was determined to offset her by courting the dual alliance of France and Russia. The terms of her agreement with these two powers have never been published, but it was probably arranged that if Russia or France should ever get in any serious difficulty, England would mediate for them. This was to be a protection to England, and a check to Germany on the one side and the Balkan states on the other. For Servia had not forgotten that Austria had annexed Bosnia and Herzegovnia in 1908. By stepping forward in the list against Austria, Servia became, as it were, a protector to the Balkans, and a thorn in the side of Austria. She did this because Bosnia is inhabited by people of Serb speech. Russia, while acting as a protector of Servia, saw the advantage of using Servia as a cat's-paw. The murder of the Austrian prince and princess by the Servian government, backed by Russian influence, was merely the match that set the powers of Europe fighting together. Whether the conflagration should spread beyond Servia depended on Austria and Russia's attitude. Austria hoped to confine the fight to Servia, while Russia showed her warlike attitude by mobilization. In mobilizing, Russia showed a hostile attitude toward Austria and Germany. After the Russian general mobilization became known in Germany, the imperialambassador at St. Petersburg was instructed, on the 31st of July, to explain to the Russian government that Germany declared the state of war as counter-measure against the general mobilization of the Russian army and navy, which must be followed by mobilization if Russia did not cease its military measures against Germany and Austria-Hungary within twelve hours, and notified Germany thereof.
As the time then given to Russia had expired without the receipt of reply to the Emperor's inquiry, the Emperor ordered the mobilization of the entire army and navy on August the first at five p. m. The German ambassador at St. Petersburg was instructed that in the event of the Russian government not giving a satisfactory reply within the stated time, he should declare that Germany considered itself in a state of war after a refusal of her demands. However, a confirmation of the execution of this order had been received, Russian troops crossed the frontier, and marched into German territory. A few hours later France mobilized, and the next day opened hostilities.
There were still hopes that England would come to the fore and settle the dispute. She said that she would remain neutral, providing Germany did not touch French coast, Russian coast, and respected the neutrality of Belgium. But Germany did not see howto make this promise and still meet her two formidable enemies, and thus a world-war began.
Just as it will take time to say who will be the winner and who the loser by this war, so it will take time to say who was responsible for this condition. For nations as well as for individuals, supremacy becomes mere madness when it is gained by guns and battleships. This bellicose system may once have been popular when piracy and feudalism prevailed, but this military peace, which trembles and rumbles all the time, forewarns earthquakes.
It was an American who made the peace palace a reality. It must be America again who will make eternal peace more than a promise. When the time comes for the stopping of this awful carnage and bloodshed, America must insist that every nation in the world shall lay down her arms and that they shall change their men-of-war into merchant marines for the benefit of mankind. This is the fulfillment of the building of the Panama Canal.