_Wenn blinder Haft die Krallen regt_
When blindfold Hatred’s claws are shown
And Falsehood’s wings come dark behind,
Stand to your arms, and lay not down
The weapons of the Mind!
The war of nations, demon strange,
Before the truth shall shrieking flee;
Man’s genius good shall fearless range
After the victory.
Pour from your sword-blade floods of light,
Be love the sign upon your shield;
These arms by their o’erwhelming might
Shall make the tempter yield.
From the Liberal member of the Herrenhaus, Fürst Camillo
Starhemberg, whom I had requested and half persuaded to come to the
Interparliamentary Conference at Bern, I received the following
communication, interesting from many points of view:
Schloss Hubertendorf, Nied.-Oest.
August 21, 1892
Honored Baroness:
The quite abnormal heat that has been prevalent for some time has so
affected my nerves and made me so unwell that I shall hardly be able
to carry out my intention of taking part in the Conference at Bern.
I will not yet definitively decline, but I hardly believe that I can
get to Bern. I have no desire to act as a dumb listener and looker-on,
and for taking a part in word and deed I do not, to speak frankly,
feel myself either in the mood or well enough.
At the request of Baron Pirquet I have, during the recent sessions,
put questions to various members of the Herrenhaus, and sounded them
as to whether they would not be pleased to take part in the
deliberations of the Conference, and, anyhow, to express their
sympathy with our endeavors by letting their names appear on the list
of those who are working for peace in the world.
Unfortunately, the least that I got was a courteous declination; in
most cases it was an ironical answer, of course always in such polite
terms as admitted of no decided protest. I had also the opportunity of
speaking with a personage of exalted position about the idea of peace
in general, but everywhere I found expressed more or less the idea
that the German lady betrothed to a German officer, on page nine of
the Festival Number of _Die Waffen nieder_, develops:[41] Sooner
sacrifice millions, sooner bring upon men limitless misery, sooner
ruin states financially, decimate the population, plunge families in
want, mourning, and the deepest distress, than be unfaithful to
traditional ideas; every thought of a peace movement of that kind is
actually interpreted as if there must be cowardice back of it.
I cannot say that these utterances which I have recently heard enhance
my hopes of _a speedy success_, but none the less I harbor the
conviction that sometime the idea will make its way, and that at least
the civilized nations of Europe will acknowledge allegiance to the
principle of arbitration and will bring their controversies to a
decision in that way.
I had not very long ago an extremely interesting letter from a Pole
who is very warm on the peace question and sends me all sorts of peace
journals and bits of news, but will not agree to peace, to the idea of
a _permanent_ peace anyway, till Poland is an independent kingdom and
free both from Russia and from Austria—and he himself admits that of
course this could not be attained until after a bloody war and strife.
And this is the way with a good many adherents of the peace idea:
first they want to see their own object attained, they shrink from no
difficulties, no deluge of blood, and only when they have gained their
own ends are they willing to make peace. The fact is, to accept
subordination, to submit, is what individual men cannot do, much less
peoples and nations; and just as we stand for the idea of peace and
are carrying on a propaganda for it—of course only with very slight
progress against the existing hostility to it—so others are fanning
the hatred and discord of the nations, are egging on the nations to
senseless national hatred, and use this to serve their own foul
purposes, to attain their own despicable ends.
Most heartily wishing the best success to you at Bern, highly honored
Baroness, and promising that in thought and feeling I shall be one at
this so honorable assemblage which is striving for the ennobling of
humanity, I sign myself with the assurance of my fullest respect and
devotion,
Your sincerely admiring and appreciative
Starhemberg
I had also written to Alfred Nobel asking him to come to Bern and attend
the deliberations of the Congress, but had received no answer to this.
—So after the festive breakfast on our terrace we went with tense
anticipation to the opening of the Congress. The great hall of the
Bundesrat was filled to the last seat. The galleries were crowded as
densely as on days when an especially interesting parliamentary session
is expected.
Louis Ruchonnet, who the year before had been President of the Swiss
Republic, was to be chairman. In the hall we met several more friends.
Professor Wilhelm Löwenthal of Paris was among them. After Ruchonnet’s
inaugural address a representative from each of the different nations
made remarks; and that brought the first formal session to a close. The
deliberations did not begin till the second session, which took place in
the afternoon in the hall of the Museum.
In the course of years I have attended more than a dozen peace
congresses and conferences, the protocols of which I possess in as many
volumes. I cannot propose to insert in these recollections of my life
the speeches, resolutions, and festivities which this small library
chronicles. I shall reproduce only what especially impressed itself on
my mind, what was a part of my experience so to speak, and thereby
afford to such of my readers as here seek a historical sketch of the
movement with which my name and activities are associated a glance at
its development. It is always interesting to follow the line along which
certain phenomena of contemporary history move—now swiftly, now slowly,
now standing still or even backing, to go forward again with all the
greater rapidity; it is noteworthy, too, how many an after-phase is
prophetically adumbrated, how projects come up and are dropped and
afterward come up again as something entirely new; how that which is at
first a matter of contention gradually becomes a matter of course, and
how apparently insurmountable obstacles, which one does not even try to
remove, are later found to have simply vanished away.
In Berlin no peace society had as yet been formed, so Germany was not
represented by any one from its capital, but by Dr. Adolf Richter from
Württemberg. From the United States Dr. Trueblood, president of the
Boston Peace Society (founded in 1816), was there. Ducommun was in the
chair at the second session, and made a report on the establishment of
the permanent International Bureau, the honorary secretary of which this
splendid man continued to be until his death in 1906.
Hodgson Pratt brought an interesting piece of information: the President
of the United States had sent to all governments a letter announcing the
resolution of the United States Senate and House of Representatives
expressing the wish to have permanent arbitration treaties concluded
with all other nations. Hodgson Pratt added to this communication the
proposal that we should work in every country to have this letter
answered by the respective governments. So that was the
beginning—suggested by America, supported by England—of “permanent
arbitration treaties.”
There was debated, and adopted, a motion proposed by E. T. Moneta, S. J.
Capper, and the Baroness Suttner, with the title, “A Confederation of
European States.”
Oh, that Capper! What a half comical but wholly pleasing figure of a
congressman! The white beard of a prophet and a tall white hat. A
vibrant voice that uttered itself by preference in French but with the
most exaggerated English accent; enthusiasm and fire, and at the same
time solid common sense.
But to return to the motion, “A Confederation of European States.” At
that time the idea had not yet begun to be understood at all; it was
generally confounded with “United States,” after the pattern of North
America, and proscribed for Europe. So thoroughly proscribed that a
Swiss paper called _Les États-Unis d’Europe_ was forbidden to be brought
into Austria.
The Capper-Moneta-Suttner motion read:
Whereas both the injury caused by armed peace and the danger that is
ever threatening the whole of Europe from a possible great war have
their basis in the condition of lawlessness in which the different
states of Europe stand toward one another;
Whereas a confederation of European states, which would be desirable
also in the interest of the commercial relations of all countries,
would do away with this condition of lawlessness and create permanent
legal relations in Europe;
And finally, whereas such a confederation would in no wise impair the
independence of the individual nations as regards their internal
affairs, and therefore as regards their forms of government:
The Congress invites the European peace societies and their adherents
to exert themselves, as the highest aim of their propaganda, for the
formation of a confederation of states on the basis of the solidarity
of their interests. It moreover invites all the societies in the
world, especially at the time of political elections, to draw
attention to the necessity of a permanent congress of nations, to
which every international question should be submitted, so that every
conflict may be settled by law and not by force.
The members of the Congress—at least the greater part—were together the
whole day long, for most of them lodged in the same hotel and took their
meals there at a great common table between the sessions. There they
went on conferring during luncheon and dinner. Especially at the
after-dinner coffee, which was taken in a covered veranda adjoining the
dining-room, groups of friends were formed and indulged in unconstrained
conversation.
One afternoon a large circle of us was gathered in this veranda to hold
a mock trial. At table a little controversy had arisen between the
Marchese Pandolfi of Rome and Senator Arturo de Marcoartu of Madrid.
Now, in jest, a court of justice was appointed; the two contending
parties had to submit their cases, each of them chose an advocate, and
the judge was to give his decision. I no longer remember what it was all
about; I only know that it was very amusing. One of the advocates—it was
Gaston Moch, a former French artillery officer—proved to be very witty,
and the two opponents likewise put the whole tribunal in the merriest of
moods by their repartee.
Arturo de Marcoartu was the only Spaniard who attended the Peace
Congress; I believe the Spanish Interparliamentary Group and the Spanish
Peace Society consisted of himself and no one else,—at least he was the
only active member. He spoke a good deal and was very long-winded, and
he was not a popular speaker because he had a very indistinct
enunciation and he was all the time repeating himself; but when his
speeches were read they were found to contain notable ideas. He had been
working for years with the greatest zeal to help spread the idea of
universal peace. Even before the first London Conference he had tried in
Vienna to win to the cause a number of prominent politicians and
aristocrats, and had found appreciation and assistance in Fürst Joseph
Colloredo, a very liberal-minded man. The beginning of an activity had
ensued, but this first stream was soon lost in the sand. I shall by and
by introduce a letter from Marcoartu, containing many interesting
discussions and observations which have been justified by events. As
long as he lived Marcoartu never was missing at a Peace Congress or an
Interparliamentary Conference; since his death, Spain has been
unrepresented at the Congresses.
To return to that afternoon in the veranda: my husband, who was employed
as Pandolfi’s advocate, was in the act of delivering a humorous plea,
when a waiter came to me where I sat at one side, said that a gentleman
in the drawing-room wished to speak to me, and handed me the man’s
card,—Alfred Nobel. Joyfully surprised, I hastened to the drawing-room,
where my friend came to meet me.
“You called me,” he said; “here I am. But incognito, so to speak. I do
not want to take part in the Congress or make any acquaintances, only to
hear something specific about the matter. Tell me what has been done so
far.”
We remained absorbed in a long conversation. Alfred Nobel displayed much
skepticism, yet he seemed anxious to see his doubts dispelled. He left
Bern that same evening, but he made my husband and me promise to come
and visit him for two days at Zurich after the Congress was adjourned.
Among the festivities which were arranged for the benefit of the
Congressists was an excursion to the Lake of Lucerne. It was a grand
trip. We had a collation at Lucerne. Of course toasts were made; but all
after dinner eloquence evaporates with the froth of the champagne.
Nevertheless, something that Ruchonnet said—not in a speech but in
conversation with his vis-à-vis—made a great impression on me, and I
copied it into my diary. Some one had spoken of the objection that is
often heard made by the opposing party that it would be an
impossibility, a misfortune, to reduce the armies—it would be simply
unthinkable from the standpoint of civilization and political economy.
Then Ruchonnet made this comparison: If to-day, by some misfortune, the
sun should be darkened, then men would use every effort to provide
artificial light and artificial heat; new industries and new professions
would come into existence; and then, if after a few generations people
should come along with the proposition to abolish the sun’s eclipse,
there would be a general outcry, “That would be a calamity, an
impossibility—what would become of the heat factories, of the numberless
light-makers?”
On the day after the excursion to Lucerne the deliberations were
resumed. First of all, A. G. von Suttner took the floor to protest
against the false, distorted reports of a certain correspondent. The
person inculpated had done nothing less than to send the newspapers a
telegram in which the opening assembly was pictured as a turbulent scene
among people who were stirring up war in their own camp. The speaker
read aloud the distorted reports in question, which had furthermore
given the foreign press material for sarcastic comments, and called on
the chair to send an official denial to the newspapers; and this was
done. It proved later that the correspondent was an avowed opponent, who
had declared to a colleague that he was not willing that the movement
should take root in Switzerland.
There did come a somewhat lively scene in the course of the Congress,
however, when the Polish member of the Austrian Parliament made a speech
in which he demanded the restoration of Poland as an independent
kingdom. Ducommun, who was in the chair at that session, as well as
several other speakers, notably Frédéric Passy, laid down the law to the
Polish patriot, who would not accept the partition of his fatherland,
declaring that the Congress could not possibly occupy itself with the
revision of Polish history. The justice of the future is to be made
ready for; the individual injustices of history cannot now be rectified,
for all the divisions of the land as at present constituted are based on
the ground of force; new laws, new ordinances—and they must be worked
for—have no retroactive power.
Now the Parliamentarians too took their turn in Bern. Their Conference
was to be opened after the close of our Congress, on the twenty-ninth
of August. There we again met many old acquaintances: Dr. Baumbach and
Dr. Hirsch from Berlin; Frédéric Bajer from Denmark; Philip Stanhope,
brother of the Minister of War, Cremer, Dr. Clark, from England; and
many others. We also learned to know many new faces: from Norway the
president of the Storthing, Ullman, was present, and Honduras and San
Salvador were this time represented by Minister Plenipotentiary
Marquis de Castello Foglia. Altogether thirteen nations were
represented. The sessions were held in the Federal Palace. The rest of
us—non-parliamentarians—were allowed to be present in the galleries.
The Conference was received by the director of the Department of the
Exterior, Bundesrat Droz. Of the transactions I note the following:
The French Senator Trarieux and the Englishman Stanhope took up the
American overture in regard to arbitration treaties and proposed the
establishment of an international tribunal. Pandolfi pleaded for “a
permanent International Conference.” Marcoartu demanded the
neutralization of isthmuses and straits. Baumbach, vice president of the
German Reichstag,—even then the German politicians were showing
themselves very reserved toward the idea of peace,—spoke in behalf of
the protection of private property at sea in times of war. The debate on
this topic became rather excited. The Frenchman Pourquery de Boisserin
explained in fiery words that a Peace Conference could not, on
principle, take under advisement any eventualities of war—and there he
was right, a hundred times right!
The other standpoints, however,—“that we cannot be satisfied with pious
wishes; we cannot as yet proclaim permanent peace, so we must content
ourselves with what is attainable, and every factor that works toward
the humanizing of war, the diminution of its horrors, is itself a mighty
step toward better things,”—these standpoints won the day, and the
Baumbach motion was passed.
Even at luncheon—I sat between Baumbach and Pourquery—the controversy
was kept up. And it has lasted till to-day. There are still those who
want to guide the work of peace along the course of mitigating and
regulating the phenomena of war, in order to demonstrate thereby that
they are too practical to strive for the “impossible,” and in order to
postpone to misty future times the attack on the real enemy, “war,” for
which they show especial regard and respect; and in contradistinction to
these there are those who assert that if the goal lies in the south one
ought not to pave the way toward the north.
During the session of the Conference the Parliamentarians were given a
festival at Interlaken. On that occasion Schenk, who afterward became
President of the Confederation, offered a toast containing a prophecy
for which even the speaker himself probably did not foresee so speedy a
fulfillment.
“I am glad,” said he, “to see the representatives of parliaments here
assembled to deliberate about peace and arbitration; still more glad
should I be on the day when the official commissioners of the
governments should assemble for the like purpose—and that day will
come.”
That day arrived only seven years later, when twenty-seven governments
sent their official representatives to The Hague for that same purpose.
XXXVIII
VISIT TO ALFRED NOBEL
Arrival at Zurich · Nobel begins to take an interest in the peace
movement, and joins us · Trips on the lake · A glimpse into his views of
life · His first project for an act in furtherance of the cause of peace
We left Bern a few days before the close of the Conference in order to
accept the invitation of Alfred Nobel, who was staying at Zurich. Our
host had put at our disposal in the Hotel Bauer _au lac_, where he
himself lodged, a suite of rooms that the Empress Elisabeth had vacated
the day before after a short visit. I found still lying on the toilet
table a pale faded rose....
Alfred Nobel came to meet us at the railway station and conducted us to
the drawing-room prepared for us, and there, a half hour later, he
joined us at dinner. He had us tell him all about the meetings of the
Bern Congress. He also gave us his name as a member of the Austrian
Peace Society, with a contribution of two thousand francs. He had sent a
like sum through me to the Congress committee at Rome the year before.
“What you are handing me,—and I thank you for it,”—I said, “comes from
amiability rather than from conviction. A few days ago in Bern you
expressed your doubts regarding the cause....”
“Regarding the cause and its justice—no, I have no doubts about that,
but only as regards the question whether it can be realized; nor do I
yet know how your Unions and Congresses propose to take hold of the
work....”
“Then if you knew that the work was being well taken hold of would you
take a hand and help?”
“Yes, I would. Inform me, convince me,—and then I will do something
great for the movement.”
I replied that I could not then, _entre la poire et le fromage_, explain
the whole matter, expel deeply-rooted doubts, and evoke firm conviction;
but I would from that time forth keep him posted, send him regularly my
review and other publications appertaining to the matter, and would
endeavor to give him not only “information” but enthusiasm.
“All right, try for that—I like nothing so much as to be able to feel
enthusiasm, a capacity which my experiences in life, and my fellow-men,
have greatly weakened.”
Nobel owned a tiny aluminium motor boat, in which we took delightful
trips around the lake in his company; the silvery craft darted swiftly
over the waters without rocking. We sat leaning back in comfortable deck
chairs covered with soft plaids, let the magic panorama of the lake
shores pass before our eyes, and talked about a thousand things between
heaven and earth. Nobel and I even agreed that we would write a book
together, a polemic against everything that keeps the world in
wretchedness and stupidity. Nobel was very strongly inclined to
Socialism in his views: thus, he said it was improper for rich men to
leave their property to their relatives; he regarded great inheritances
as a misfortune, for they have a paralyzing effect. Great accumulations
of property should go back to the community and common purposes; the
children of the rich should inherit only so much that they could be well
educated and kept from want, but little enough so that they should be
stimulated to work, and through this to renewed enrichment of the world.
The days in Zurich went swiftly. Trips on the lake, excursions to places
within and without the city, during which I admired the opulence of the
villas that fringe the city, which all look more like castles.
“Yes, the silkworms have spun all that,” said Nobel.
“Perhaps dynamite factories are even more profitable than silk mills,” I
remarked, “and less innocent.”
“Perhaps my factories will put an end to war even sooner than your
Congresses; on the day when two army corps may mutually annihilate each
other in a second, probably all civilized nations will recoil with
horror and disband their troops.”
It was his belief that scientific progress and technical discoveries are
destined to regenerate mankind. “Every new discovery,” he wrote me once,
“modifies the human brain and makes the new generation capable of
receiving new ideas.” From a letter of Alfred Nobel’s which was not
addressed to me, but came under my eyes, I copied the following passage;
it gives a glimpse into his philosophy of life:
To spread the light is to spread prosperity (I mean general
prosperity, not individual wealth), and with prosperity will disappear
the greatest part of the evils that are the inheritance of dark ages.
The conquests of scientific investigation, and its ever-widening
field, awaken in us the hope that the microbes—the soul’s as well as
the body’s—will gradually disappear, and the only war which mankind
will wage will be the war against these microbes. Then Bacon’s
splendid phrase that there are deserts in time will be applicable only
to times that lie far back in the past.
On our departure I had to reiterate my promise to keep Alfred Nobel
regularly informed about the progress of the peace movement; and from
that time forth, though (alas!) I never saw him again, I corresponded
with him indefatigably in regard to the cause of peace. As a testimony
of how quickly and eagerly he became interested in its behalf I include
here a letter which he wrote me a few months after our meeting in
Switzerland: