After my experiences with the earlier stages of the French, English,
and German situation, I was quite prepared for the most unexpected
developments. What occurred in the middle of October, 1911, was,
however, beyond what I had imagined. The Morocco incident had shown
the German Emperor that the _entente cordiale_ was indeed solid.
England and France would stand shoulder to shoulder in war. Being
used to the ways of German diplomacy, I knew that from the
Wilhelmstrasse would come a quick countermove. I guessed, too, that
when it came I would be employed. It stood to reason that, knowing so
much of the trend and importance of the affair--I had seen the
intrigue grow step by step--I was the logical choice.
Nor was my reasoning at fault. I soon received the expected summons,
and it brought me into the most amazing of my diplomatic adventures-a
mission which showed me the utter ruthlessness that characterizes
foreign ministers, particularly when the vital interests of their
countries are concerned.
Word to appear at the Wilhelmstrasse came when the autumn holidays
were in full swing. The usual procedure of the Foreign Office having
been observed, I found myself in Count von Wedel's private study.
After an invitation to be seated, the Count surprised me. He
complimented me on my previous missions on the _entente cordiale_
situation, and handed me a pretty substantial check. It was actually
10,000 marks--$2,500--which the stubs of the royal check book will
show.
As I took the money he remarked "Seine Majestät"--Foreign Office
brevity for conveying that His Majesty was satisfied. Without more
ado, von Wedel plunged into the subject. Leaning back and crossing
his legs, he began to talk in his abrupt way.
"I want you to go with his Excellency, Herr von Kinderlen-Waechter, as
his private attendant and secretary,'' began von Wedel. "I have
selected you because of your knowledge of English and your insight
into the whole matter in hand. There is to be a meeting of certain
statesmen in a certain spot in the range of the Schwarzwald. You are
to be the sole attendant of these gentlemen. You'll see to it that
nothing of their identity becomes known. You will look after them in
every way. You will destroy all writing, such as paper and blotters.
You will burn any such things in the presence of Herr von
Kinderlen-Waechter."
He paused impressively, and I found my mind in a whirl. What his
words portended I could guess. This mission promised to be very
interesting indeed.
"I want you to be at the place of meeting," von Wedel continued,
"three days before the arrival of these gentlemen. You will have to
make arrangements as regards catering and so forth. You'll be the
only attendant. Means have been taken to assure strict privacy in the
district. Understand that we want this to be thoroughly cloaked. I
suggest to you the idea of a hunting party. The details I leave to
you. The gentlemen in question may or may not be known to you. I
shall write you their names."
His pen began scratching across a piece of paper, and I had a moment
in which to realize the grave importance of this mission: the future
of Germany menaced, complete isolation was in the making between
England, France, and Russia; and the Kaiser was about to save Germany
by a master stroke of diplomacy. Of what tremendous importance it
was, however, I did not learn until I had gone down into the forest.
Looking up, von Wedel tossed a piece of paper across the desk to me
(the identical paper which has been reproduced in connection with this
article). It bore these names in his handwriting:
Viscount Haldane, Winston Spencer Churchill, Admiral von Tirpitz,
General von Heeringen, General Moritz Ritter von Auffenberg, Herr von
Kinderlen-Waechter.
I suppose, had it been my first Secret Service mission instead of the
climax of eleven years in the service, I could not have controlled my
surprise. These men, all meeting in a lonely spot in Taunus Hills
region, foretold a grave situation. Especially was this true in view
of the newspapers of Europe. Here was all the press having Germany
and England ready to rush at each other's throats in war. It was the
time of the German spy scare in England. And now here were the two
powerful members of the English Cabinet meeting the Kaiser's Minister
of War secretly.
I also knew of a secret visit Churchill and Haldane had made at the
Foreign Office's invitation. Significantly these English diplomats
had been shown certain of Germany's preparations for war, notably war
in the sky.
But von Wedel was not yet through.
"These gentlemen," he said, "will meet at Schlangenbad about the
middle of this month. You know the place, in the Taunus Hills--one of
the Emperor's hunting lodges. I suggest that you get down there
to-morrow and have everything ready. You thoroughly know what is
required of you, Doctor?"
On my assenting I was dismissed. I lost no time in getting home to my
quarters and into comfortable togs. This mission needed some thinking
out. And after I told my Basuto boy to pack my bag, I glanced again
at the list von Wedel had given me.
Haldane, Lord Chancellor of England, persona grata with the Kaiser--in
fact, a personal friend. Churchill, First Lord of the British
Admiralty. Waechter, the German Minister of Foreign Affairs and,
despite court opposition, the trusted man of the Kaiser. Tirpitz and
von Heeringen, chiefs of the German navy and army staffs, the latter a
second Moltke. When I came to von Auffenberg's name I whistled. Von
Auffenberg was Minister of War and the right-hand man of the
Chancellor of the Austrian Empire. Thus three great powers were
represented. Six men of this eminence, the brains and force of three
nations, to meet in secret in a little obscure hunting lodge in the
forest! It portended darkly for France; but how darkly I could not
then conjecture. It interested me tremendously, but I consoled myself
that I would probably know all when the party gathered in that
secluded hunting lodge.
According to instructions, I presented myself early next morning at
the residence of Herr von Kinderlen-Waechter. It was in the
Thiergartenstrasse. Without delay I was shown into his Excellency's
room. He was seated at his desk, and while we exchanged a few
perfunctory words I permitted myself a moment's brief conjecture.
Judging from appearances, you would never have taken this portly,
rubicund, iron-gray, bushy-browed gentleman for a statesman. But a
statesman he was for all that, and the Emperor and Germany miss him
sorely. I would have taken him for a Boer Dopper or an English
yeoman. This suggestion was supported by his atrocious taste in fancy
waistcoats. The one he had on still sticks in my memory. It was a
lurid peach-blossom creation, spotted with green. But once his
steel-gray, deerhound eyes looked you up and down you forgot all about
the fancy waistcoat and got right down to business. I told his
Excellency I had come for his personal instructions.
Besides telling me to "halt my maul" (a German military expression
literally meaning to keep your mouth shut, but implying the need for
utmost secrecy) he gave me certain general instructions. But from
them I could gain no idea of just what was going to happen. I could
only guess. How big was the gathering storm he never even hinted.
Remembering von Wedel's suggestion about the hunting party, I procured
some guns and reached the station in time to catch the 12.30 express
for Schlangenbad.
It was early in October when I went to the Kur Hotel and registered as
Herr Bamberger from Berlin. If you ever go to Schlangenbad, look up
the register. Schlangenbad is a mineral watering place in Prussia,
near the Black Forest, and within easy distance of our ultimate
meeting place, the hunting lodge that von Wedel had mentioned.
I was alone at the hotel for several days. Then, traveling incognito,
the dignitaries be,,an to drift in. First came the Austrian, General
Moritz Ritter von Auffenberg. A distinguished, quiet, unassuming
gentleman, he is known to be high in the confidence of Francis Joseph.
I found the War Minister very fond of salmon fishing, and got quite
into his good graces by enthusiastic tales of fly fishing in New
Zealand.
Admiral von Tirpitz and General von Heeringen came next. The Admiral
is typical of the German sailor, a big man, six feet, wide of
shoulder, blue-eyed, and full bearded. His manner I found genial and
courteous. His exact opposite was von Heeringen, thin, almost crooked
of body, stoop shouldered, unusually taciturn, and possessing
deep-sunken, smoldering black eyes. He struck me as an animated mummy
of the Rameses dynasty--come to think of it, he much resembles Rameses
II.
The exact date of the meeting, as I recall it, was October 12, and the
place a shooting lodge, named Ehrenkrug. On the morning of the
twelfth I hired a vehicle and, loading provisions, wine, and other
necessaries aboard, drove to the lodge, sixteen miles into the forest.
No farmhouse or other human habitation was within a radius of several
miles. It was a large stone and brick building, somewhat similar to
your colonial style. It had five or six guest rooms, a large general
meeting hall, and a morning room. It being the property of the royal
family, I found two old pensioners of the Imperial Forest Service in
charge. They had a good fire going in the grate, which was welcome,
for it was still a little damp and chilly, especially in this wet
mountain forest.
Patroling both ends of the road were a number of gendarmes. They were
scattered through the woods, too, forming a cordon through which no
one could come. Indeed, they had challenged me. About three o'clock
in the afternoon the German and Austrian envoys came out from the
hotel, and at a quarter to four (I remember Waechter remarking
"They're three-quarters of an hour late!") the chug of a motor
announced the others, Lord Haldane and Winston Churchill.
I had never happened to meet Haldane before, and I found him the
English gentleman personified--polished and reserved. Yet his
reserve, tempered by age, blended into a genial mellowness. The usual
English arrogance had evidently been subdued by reason of his training
and cosmopolitan knowledge. In speech and action he was a
Chesterfield, but in appearance he was not unlike a canon or a bishop,
a little ascetic looking, and rather bald.
Quite the other type of Anglo-Saxon, still boyish in looks,
high-strung and nervous, erratic in speech and action, just a bit
self-conscious, Winston Churchill was the youngest member of this
remarkable gathering. I had met him during the Boer War, and as he
took off his motoring coat he looked at me closely.
"I believe I've seen you before," he said.
"I met the right honorable gentleman in the Bloemfontein Field
Hospital during the war."
"Ah, yes," said Churchill, his face lighting up.
He had had his wound dressed there; his recognition showed his
remarkable memory.
After refreshments the envoys immediately adjourned to the big morning
room, and I was posted outside to see that no gendarme or forest
pensioner carne within earshot. I was not present at the beginning of
the conference, but after an hour had passed I was summoned. My first
impression as I opened the door was of an air of tenseness. It was
obvious in the way Churchill was staring across the table at Haldane.
It was an ordinary large German oak dining-room table, and in the
middle were two big shaded lamps. It was growing dusk, and after
lighting the lamps, I backed away to a corner of the room. I had a
distinct impression of the features of the six men who were making
history round that table. There were writing materials, stacks of
paper, and documents at every place. Sheets and sheets of paper were
covered with their handwriting. Only in front of von Heeringen were
the sheets blank, for he never makes a note of anything, carrying
everything in his marvelous memory.
Obviously what were the last words of a speech came from Moritz, the
Austrian, as I entered: "And to make this all possible," he was
saving, "we must break the Russian Federation in the Balkans."
From his place at the head of the table the iron-gray-haired
Kinderlen-Waechter rose slowly. I noticed he wore another of those
atrocious vests. Turning on his left he gazed at Churchill and
Tirpitz; his careful measuring eyes then met Moritz, an expectant,
slightly nervous figure at the other end of the table awaiting the
reply to the point he had raised. And Waechter's eyes turned from him
to Heeringen, to Haldane; then he spoke. I recall distinctly the
import of his remarks.
"Gentlemen," he said, "the point raised by General Moritz must stand,
and, of course, it needs the sanction of our respective heads. As
Lord Haldane has pointed out, it does complicate matters to some
extent. The Balkans concern Austria most; to my way of thinking it is
quite within reason to accede this point. [As I write I recall
vividly how grave they had all become. They knew what this meant--war
in the Balkans.] On all main points," said Kinderlen-Waechter, "we are
agreed. As indicated by his Imperial Majesty, the primary reason of
our meeting is to come to a tacit understanding in regard to technical
details. This we have done. It is unfortunate, however, that this
possible phase, the Balkan point, has not been gone into before. I
suggest that we adjourn, to inform our respective Governments of this
point. If necessary, we will meet again on Wednesday."
This second meeting, by the way, was not necessary, all the
Governments represented tentatively agreeing with Austria. The
treaty, however, was subject to signatures and if it was officially
closed, I cannot tell.
Apparently the conference was at an end. But what had they
accomplished? From the general tenor of their conversation it was
obvious that they all agreed. But what were the terms of their
bargain? Presently I was to know.
"Bamberger," said Kinderlen-Waechter, addressing me by the name I had
taken, "gather up any pieces of paper on the table and consign them to
the fire."
I replied: "Yes sir." Then turning to the others, he continued:
"Gentlemen, select the memoranda you wish to keep. The rest is going
to be destroyed immediately."
While they ran over their papers, saving necessary scraps, I stood
back from the table. It was characteristic of the men that Winston
Churchill should have taken the most voluminous notes, while Heeringen
had not put down a line. I then gathered up every scrap of paper left
on the table--blotters, little note pads, foolscap--used or unused.
Everything was to go into the fire.
I went about this slowly and deliberately, taking care to glance at
everything before I carried it over to the grate. I wanted to make
sure that nothing of value was destroyed. Here and there came a good
chance to read some of the contents. Piece by piece from the
memoranda the different men had made, always being careful not to
confuse individual notes, thus learning one by one their train of
thought, the thing began to piece itself together for me. There were
extensive notes on army and navy matters. Churchill, for instance,
had carefully noted the full strength that Austria and Germany could
muster in case of war. Kinderlen-Waechter had recorded the full
strength of England and Austria as given by Churchill and Moritz. So
had Moritz taken down German and English statistics. Obviously it was
a triangular alliance, each noting to what extent dependence could be
placed upon the other. Then there were data on the French and Russian
armies and navies. The significance of that was apparent. What
puzzled me, hovrever, were numerous statistics on Holland and Belgium.
Not until Kinderlen-Waechter and Churchill, squatting down by the
fireplace and poking the burning papers with old-fashioned irons, not
until then, when there began a conversation and other pairs conversed
on certain points all around the room, did I gain a clear idea of just
what had happened. What they said, the vital scraps of their
conversation as they drifted to me while I moved to and from the table
and fireplace, I shall now present as close to the words of the men
involved as I am able.
Heeringen, who had drawn Haldane aside, said: "We are ready at any
time with 3,500,000 men without any further straining of our reserves.
According to our latest agreement Austria will support us with
2,000,000 more men. The financial aspect of this is, of course, out
of my hands."
Haldane mumbled something that sounded like "that is very
satisfactory." At any rate, he nodded an affirmative.
By this time the positions had changed somewhat, and Churchill drew
Tirpitz aside. Churchill spoke German only indifferently, so they
conversed in French and partly in English. I heard Tirpitz say:
"We could bottle up the Baltic in twelve hours. Russia would not have
a chance to stir. Of course, in the event of any outside situation
arising, we shall look to England to take care of such new conditions.
That seems to rest clearly with your navy."
Churchill became a little cautious.
"There is a certain contingency that might arise," he said. "Suppose,
under stress of circumstances the United States should take a definite
stand against us in this matter?"
The reply of the Admiral was the very expressive German
word--_Quatsch_! He further intimated that the United States was so
interested in its own internal affairs that it would not be drawn into
the question, and that in any event its navy would be needed for its
own immediate protection. He had a disposition, however, to put the
entire situation up to Churchill.
Kinderlen-Waechter and Moritz were deep in the Balkan question, and I
sensed then the coming Balkan imbroglio.
"Without doubt," Moritz said, "we will bring that to an issue within a
few months." I knew he meant that Austria would precipitate the
Balkan question. Kinderlen-Waechter was serious.
"It has got to be done."
There were other snatches, all bearing on the same subject, and
gradually the situation began to clarify in my mind. It was not,
however, until I had noted the contents of certain documents before
destroying them that the tremendous importance of the big stakes they
were all playing for became apparent. What I shall now do is to
reveal the substance of these documents, coupling them with overheard
conversation, thus interpreting the full significance of the
conference.
Within the last twenty-five years Germany has so enormously advanced
in commerce that she urgently needs some further outlet on a northern
seacoast. This means Holland and Belgium. Hamburg and Bremen are the
only two practical harbors that Germany possesses for the distribution
of her enormous export. The congestion in both places is such that
steamers wait for weeks to load. One-quarter of Germany's exports
goes through Antwerp. Germany must have Antwerp. Practically the
whole of southern Germany's commerce, especially along the Rhine and
the highway of the Rhine, pours into a foreign country at present.
Germany must have Antwerp--in fact, the whole coast, Amsterdam and
Rotterdam included.
The empire wants harbors, not colonies. The colonizing idea is a
fallacy. Germany is, first and last, a manufacturing country. It
never was and never will be, for a long time to come, a successful
colonizer. At present all that Germany wants is markets, and
facilities for extending her markets. These markets Germany will
always be able to command because of her intense scientific
application to all branches of manufacture. But these products need
outlets. Germany is quite willing to let the others colonize so long
as she has a chance to get her goods in. So much for the German
situation.
England, in her vast oversea domains and possessions, wants rounding
up. England has not been able in the past, and certainly is not at
present able, to supply herself and her colonies. In Germany she has
a first-class workman. Germany manufactures what England needs.
Germany's building of her navy was never meant as a real menace to
Great Britain. It was solely a means to impress the English that
Germany would make a powerful and valuable ally in every shape and
form. Conversely, it was a threat that she would be a dangerous
opponent. This is clearly understood in the English and German
Cabinets. Public opinion is being rapidly educated up to this in both
countries. All the war-scare talk between Germany and England has
been and is only a means to an end. The end is to throw dust in the
eyes of the rest of the world. Germany and England will never
willingly war. Destruction of one would mean the destruction of the
other. They are too equally powerful to be able to fight each other;
their real interests run too close together. Indeed, they are mutual.
Germany manufactures, England uses. Only a miracle would separate
them.
Shoulder to shoulder, Germany and England (Germany, of course,
including Austria, and possibly Italy) could dictate to the rest of
the world. There is one stumbling-block. This is France.
Well-informed Frenchmen have known and feared this for a long time.
They have, of course, never mentioned it in public. Shrewd French
statesmen have long kept it in the seclusion of their own minds. It
would be political and possibly physical death openly to assert that
France is doomed. But doomed she is.
With all her gallantry, hysterical patriotism, and wealth, she would
never be able to hold out against Germany alone. Her attempts at
alliances have been frenzied. To secure Russia's friendship she has
loaned enormous sums of money. But the Japanese war and internal
troubles have eliminated Russia as a high-class ally. She was at the
time of the Black Forest conference but a secondary power. She is
to-day balanced by Turkey and Austria. The Balkan States are smashed.
So France did her utmost to solidify the _entente cordiale_ fostered
by the late King Edward VII under the stress of public opinion in
England.
To what extent she met success we have seen. The Moroccan question
showed England ready to back up France in war, but now comes this
meeting in the Black Forest. Germany has shown England the greater
advantage of a German-English coalition, and France is frozen out.
England, with her shrewd alertness to make the most profitable deal,
entertained if did not close the German proposition. In a nutshell,
it is this:
Germany must have the lowland ports. Holland is not adverse to coming
into the German Federation. Belgium is adverse, but could be snuffed
out as easily as a candle. But French public opinion would never
tolerate under any circumstances this German aggression. France would
fight, even though knowing it to be a losing fight. If only she would
let Germany have what she wants, there would be no war. But the
French temperament, public opinion, years of decorating with flowers
that Alsace-Lorraine symbol, the Strasbourg statue in Paris, have not
been conducive to fostering a submissive spirit in France. To resent
Germany's inevitable aggression is equally inevitable.
So much for what Germany gets out of it. Austria wants to round up
her empire in the Balkans. Austria has to have outlets in the
Mediterranean. England, if she stands by Germany, will be rewarded
with French Northern Africa and the Dutch East India possessions.
What will become of France? Reconstruction, partitioning, possibly a
little kingdom, probably under the Orleans régime. France is in the
lap of the gods. I know these things, for I possess them in black and
white.