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reference to the Danish King Christian IV. has been corrected in "as
all the children of King Christian IV.[IX.] were".
TEN YEARS NEAR THE
GERMAN FRONTIER
TEN YEARS
NEAR THE
GERMAN FRONTIER
A RETROSPECT AND A WARNING
BY
MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN
FORMER UNITED STATES MINISTER TO DENMARK
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
LONDON · NEW YORK · TORONTO
_Copyright, 1918,
By George H. Doran Company_
PREFACE
The purpose of this book is to show the reflections of Prussian
policy and activity in a little country which was indispensable to
Prussia in the founding of the German Empire, and which, in spite of
its heroic struggle in 1864, was forced to serve as the very
foundation of that power; for, if Prussia had not unrighteously
seized Slesvig, the Kiel Canal and the formation of the great German
fleet would have been almost impossible.
The rape of Slesvig and the acquisition of Heligoland--that despised
'trouser button' which kept up the 'indispensables' of the German
Navy--are facts that ought to illuminate, for those who would be
wise, the past as a warning to the future. There is no doubt that
the assimilation of Slesvig by Prussia led to the Franco-Prussian
war, and liberated modern Germany from the difficulties that would
have hampered her intention to become the dominant power in the
world. The further acquisition of Denmark would have been only a
question of time, had not the march of the Despot through Belgium
aroused the civilised world to the reality of the German imperial
aggression--until then, unhappily, not taken seriously. Had Germany
followed the policy which induced her to hold Slesvig, in spite of
the promise that the Slesvigers, passionately Danish, might by vote
decide their own fate--and seize Denmark, the Virgin Islands, not
American, would have been German possessions. The change of policy
which sent the German army into Belgium and Northern France, instead
of into Denmark, was, in a measure, due to the belief in Germany,
that the war would be short; and, with France helpless, Russia
terrorised and England torn by political factions, she could control
the Danish Belts that lead from the North Sea to the Baltic and treat
these waters as German lakes.
She reckoned as erroneously on that as she reckoned on controlling
the Mediterranean and on smashing the Monroe Doctrine by practically
possessing Argentine and Brazil. She built well, however, when she
made Kiel the pride of the Emperor and the Empire. Europe watched the
process, and hardly gave a thought to the outrage on humanity and
liberty it involved. The world is suffering for this indifference.
The retention of Danish Slesvig created the German sea power and the
constant threat to Denmark concerns us all. It is a world question;
and it must be answered in the interest of Democracy.
Denmark is geographically part of Germany. In normal times you
reached Berlin from Copenhagen in a night. In a few short hours you
may see German sentinels on the Slesvig frontier, and hear the field
practice of German guns. A Zeppelin might have reached Copenhagen
from Berlin in eight hours, and an army corps might land in Jutland
in about double that time.
Copenhagen is so near what was that centre of world politics--the
German court--its royal family is so closely allied with all the
reigning and non-reigning royal families of Europe, and its
diplomatic life so tense and comprehensive,--that it has been well
named the whispering gallery of Europe.
I have not attempted to keep out of this sketch of my diplomatic
experiences and deductions all traces of amusement; but, as to the
terrible seriousness of the greater part of this record, I may
appropriately quote the answer of Bismarck's tailor, when that genius
of blood and iron accused him of asking an enormous price for a fur
coat, of 'joking.' 'No,' answered the tailor, 'never in business!'
And, in spite of the fact that there are lights and even laughs in
the diplomatic career, it is a serious business; and the sooner my
fellow countrymen recognise this, the fewer international errors they
will have to regret.
MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN.
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I
A Scrap of Paper and the Danes
1
CHAPTER II
The Menace of 'Our Neighbour to the South'
35
CHAPTER III
The Kaiser and the King of England
46
CHAPTER IV
Some Details the Germans Knew
61
CHAPTER V
Glimpses of the German Point of View in Relation
to the United States
79
CHAPTER VI
German Designs in Sweden and Norway
98
CHAPTER VII
The Religious Propaganda
124
CHAPTER VIII
The Prussian Holy Ghost
154
CHAPTER IX
1910, 1911, 1912
169
CHAPTER X
A Portent in the Air
189
CHAPTER XI
The Preliminaries to the Purchase of the Danish
Antilles
203
CHAPTER XII
The Beginning of 1917 and the End
259
CHAPTER I
A SCRAP OF PAPER AND THE DANES
Let us trace deliberately, with as much calmness as possible, the
beginning of that policy, of 'blood and iron' which made the German
Empire, as we knew it yesterday, possible. It began with the tearing
up of 'a scrap of paper' in 1864. It began in perfidy, treachery, and
the forcible suppression of the rights of a free people. It began in
Denmark; and nothing could make a normal American more in love with
freedom, as we know it, than to live under the shadow of a tyrannical
power, cynically opposed to the legitimate desire of a little nation
to develop its own capabilities in its own way.
The Hanoverian on the throne of England in '76,--that 'snuffy old
drone from a German hive'--never dared to suggest that the colonies
should be crushed out of all semblance of freedom; but, suppose our
language had been different from that which his environment compelled
him to speak, and that he had resolved to force his tongue on our own
English-speaking people; suppose that he and his counsellors had
resolved that German should be the language spoken in sermons and
prayers from Washington's old church in Alexandria to Faneuil Hall;
suppose that all the colleges and schools of the country, as well as
the law courts, were forced to use this alien tongue; that a
German-speaking Empire existed to the south of us, and the minority
in this German domain, arrogant, closely connected with the
Hanoverian régime, ruled us with the mailed fist, would we submit
without constant efforts to obtain justice?
And yet Denmark, in the province of Slesvig, has endured these things
since 1864. She alone of all the world resisted the beginning of
German tyranny, of German arrogant evolution; and her resistance was
useless because the rest of Europe saw in the future neither the
German Empire nor the Kiel Canal.
Denmark is, as every schoolboy knows, geographically part of Germany;
and the Pan-Germans spoke of it benevolently as 'our Northern
province.' It might long ago have been their Northern province if
England and Russia had not been powers in the world and if the great
Queen Louise of Denmark, a beautiful and fragile little woman, with a
heart of gold and a will of steel, had not used all her wits to keep
her country free by the only means of diplomacy she knew--the ties of
family.
Queen Louise, the wife of Christian IX., new king of an old line, was
not born in the purple, though her blood was the bluest in Europe.
The beautiful princesses, her three daughters, later the Empress of
Russia, Dagmar, the Queen of England, Alexandra, and the Duchess of
Cumberland, Thyra, made their frocks and were taught all the
household arts--for their father, royal by blood as he was, was a
poor officer.
These princesses hold lovingly in remembrance the time of their
poverty; these princesses love the old times. There is a villa on the
Strandvej (the beach way) called Hvidhöre, white as befits the name,
with sculptured sea-nymphs and pretty gardens and a path under the
strand to the Sound. Here, until 1914, the Empress Dowager of Russia
and the Queen of England regularly spent part of the summer and
autumn. The Russian yacht, _The Polar Star_, and the English
_Victoria and Albert_ appeared regularly in the Sound, the officers
added to the gaiety of Copenhagen and the royal ladies went to
Hvidhöre, 'where,' as the Widow Queen of England said to my wife,
smiling, 'we can make our own beds, as we did when we were girls.'
The servants might drop a plate or two during luncheon or stumble
over a chair; but the Empresses of Russia and of India made no
objections--'the dear old people were a little blind, perhaps, but
then they had served our father, King Christian.' And anything that
relates to their father is sacred to these ladies; and everything
concerning Denmark very dear.
In 1907 the small parties at Hvidhöre went on as usual, though the
great royal gatherings at the palace of Fredensborg had ceased. Here,
in the time of the old Queen Louise, from sixty to eighty scions of
royalty, young and old, had often gathered under the high blue
ceiling, from which looked down beautiful white gods and goddesses.
In 1907-8 King Frederick VIII. gave occasionally a dinner on Sunday
night at the country house not far from Copenhagen, Charlottenlund,
when it was hard to keep from turning one's back to a royalty,--there
were so many crowned heads present. There, if Queen Alexandra made it
plain that she wanted to speak to you, you, approaching her, found
yourself with your back to the King of Greece or to King Haakon of
Norway, or to the Queen of Denmark herself!
Times have changed; the circumstances which made the late mother of
King Frederick so powerful in keeping 'the family' together can never
occur again.
Of the four daughters of the late King Frederick, two married, one
in Sweden and the other in Germany. The Danish princess, Louise, who
became the wife of His Serene Highness, Prince Friedrich Georg
Wilhelm Bruno of Lippe-Schaumbourg, is to the Danes a lovely and
pathetic memory. They say that he treated her badly, that the bride
fled from him to the protection of her parents, whom they censured
for not taking her home before her death. The criticism--which even
found expression in public disapproval--was unreasonable, but the
mass of the Danes is always more generous than just in the treatment
of its children. In 1908-9, to mention the name of Prince Friedrich
was to commit a social error; he was taboo; every mother in Denmark
was furious at the stories told of his injuries to their dead
Princess Louise.
Princess Ingeborg, born in 1878, married the 'blue Prince,' Charles
of Sweden, Duke of Westgothia. King Frederick VIII., after the
failure of the German marriage, kept his two other daughters, Thyra
and Dagmar, in the background. He was a very sympathetic king, and he
liked to talk of ordinary affairs; he was truly much interested in
the life immediately around him. 'I do not encourage princes in
search of wives,' he said; 'I shall keep my daughters with me.'
Princess Thyra--one cannot conceal the age of princesses, while there
is an _Almanach de Gotha_--was born on March 14th, 1880, and Princess
Dagmar on May 23rd, 1890. The Princess Thyra is of the type of her
beautiful aunt, the Queen Mother of England; like her aunt, she
looks much younger than her age; the Princess Dagmar has the quality
of this royal family, of always seeming to be ten years, in
appearance, younger than they are. They were our near neighbours for
ten years, and my wife often threatened to marry them to nice
'Americans';--King Frederick, considering this impossible, gave his
consent at once! He often brought them in to tea, and they met 'nice
Americans,' and seemed to like them very much.
The Emperor William--who wanted to be called the Emperor of Germany
rather than the German, or Prussian Emperor, as we always called
him--showed no affection for his Danish relatives; but, nevertheless,
he did not underrate the value of Denmark as the 'whispering gallery'
of Europe.
In the old palace of Rosenborg, in Copenhagen, there is a room so
arranged that, by means of a narrow tunnel in the wall, Christian
IV., a contemporary of Queen Elizabeth, could hear what his guards
said, in their cabinet, at all hours of the day and night. 'There is
a similar room at Potsdam,' a Dane said to me; 'William always
listens when he is not speaking!' William knew what the Danes said of
the German marriage; his plans did not lie in the way of annexing
either of the Danish princesses, whose sympathies were not with the
despoilers of the country; he had his eyes on the son of their aunt,
the Duchess of Cumberland, who was later to marry his daughter. But
royal marriages had ceased to strengthen or weaken Denmark; the
Archduke Michael of Russia 'hung around' for a time; others came; but
King Frederick walked out with his daughter, Princess Thyra, both
evidently content. Princesses are expected to make marriages of
'convenience,' but Princess Thyra, like her aunt, Princess Victoria
of England, does not seem inclined to make a marriage of that kind.
Princess Dagmar was too young to be permitted to expect suitors, when
her father lived; and the Princess Margaret, daughter of Prince
Valdemar, brother of King Frederick, for whom, it was said, overtures
had already been made on behalf of the growing Prince of the House
of Saxony, was younger still. Denmark had ceased to be a marriage
market of kings; the futility of attempting to cement international
relations by royal alliances was becoming only too evident. Prince
Valdemar, brother of King Frederick, had refused more than once a
Balkan kingdom, and, when consulted by very great personages as to a
marriage of his oldest son to the Grand Duchess of Luxembourg, had
answered, like his brother Frederick, that he preferred 'to keep his
children at home.'
Nevertheless, the previous royal marriages and the fact that nearly
every diplomat at Copenhagen was a favourite with his sovereign, sent
by a relative of the court at home to please the court at Copenhagen,
gave the post unusual prestige, and made 'conversations' possible
there which could not have taken place elsewhere. The court circle,
when one had the entrance, but not until then, was like that of an
agreeable family. Nearly every minister at Copenhagen was destined
for an embassy. When my predecessor, Mr. O'Brien, was translated to
Tokyo, our prestige was enhanced; the Danes believed that our country
but followed the usual precedent, according to which their French M.
Jusserand had been made ambassador at Washington. Even the United
States had begun to understand the importance of the post; and it was
in the line of diplomatic usage when it was rumoured that I had been
offered Vienna. I met, too, ministers to Copenhagen who considered
themselves, because of royal patronage, ambassadors by brevet, and
who exacted 'Excellency,' not as a courtesy but a right!
Mr. Whitelaw Reid wrote to me, speaking of my post as a 'delightful,
little Dresden china court'; the epithet was pretty, and there were
times, when the young princesses and their friends thronged the
rococo rooms of the Amalieborg Palace, that it seemed appropriate.
When the processions of guests moved up the white stairs between the
line of liveried servants, some of them with quaint artificial
flowers in their caps, the sight was very like a bit out of Watteau.
Bismarck had not looked on Denmark as a negligible country; he knew
its importance; there was a legend that one of the few persons he
really respected and feared in Europe was the old Queen Louise.
Besides, he knew the history of Denmark so well, that he chose to
correct the supposed taint in the blood of the Hohenzollerns by
choosing an Empress for William II. of 'the blood of Struense.' This
Struense, the German physician who, through the degeneracy of
Christian VII., had in 1770 become the guide, the philosopher,
and--it was said--the more than friend of his Queen, Caroline
Matilda, tried to be the Bismarck of Denmark; but he was of too soft
a mould,--the disciple of Rousseau and Voltaire rather than of
Machiavelli and Cæsar Borgia. He was drawn and quartered, after
having confessed, in the most ungentlemanly way, his relations with
the queen, sister of King George III. of England.
It is probable that part of the Emperor's dislike to Bismarck
was due to that '_mot_' of the Iron Chancellor about the royal
marriage he had helped to make. It was the kind of '_mot_' that
William would not be likely to forget. It is an axiom of courts
that the child of a Queen cannot be illegitimate. Even the
Duke de Morny, son of Queen Hortense of Holland, bore proudly
'Hortensias' in the panels of his carriage during the Third
Empire in France. Nevertheless, though Queen Caroline Matilda had
died, in her exile at Celle, protesting her innocence, it was
understood that Struense was the father of the supposed daughter
of Christian VII., the daughter who married into the House of
Slesvig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Augustenburg. Her descendant, the
Princess Augusta Victoria Frederika-Louisa-Feodora-Jenny married
the Emperor William II., on February 27th, 1881, at Berlin. It was
a love match--at least on the side of the empress. One of the ladies
in waiting at the German court once told my wife that the famous
Augusta Victoria rose--the magnolia rose of our youth--was always
cherished by her imperial majesty because of its association with her
courtship--'the emperor knew how to make love!' the empress said.
The appearance of Struense among the ancestors of the empress, to
which Bismarck is said to have so brutally alluded, was not agreeable
to the proudest monarch in Europe. Queen Caroline Matilda, sister of
the second George of England, was only fifteen years of age when she
came to Denmark to become the wife of Christian VII. in 1766. And, if
anything could have excused her later relations with Struense (her
son, Frederick VII., was undoubtedly legitimate)--it was the attitude
of her degenerate husband and her mother-in-law, Julianna Maria.
Having been dragged one bitter cold morning to the castle of
Elsinore, she confessed her guilt; but under such circumstances of
cruel oppression that the confession goes for little; circumstances,
however, were against her, and the courts of Europe only remember
that she was the daughter of a king, of blood sufficiently royal, to
make up for her declension.
In Copenhagen, in 1908, the echoes of public opinion in London, among
the higher classes at least, showed that the momentary insecurity
caused by the reverses in the Boer war had passed. People had
forgotten the emperor's telegram to Oom Paul. Nobody wanted war;
therefore, there would be no war. 'If we have no property,' St.
Francis of Assisi, pleading for his Order to the Pope, said, 'we
shall need no soldiers to protect it.' It was forgotten that,
reversely, if we have property, we must always have armies and fleets
to protect it. It was not war that anybody wanted; but there was
property to be had, which could only be had by the use of armies and
fleets.
In Paris (for reasons which secret history will one day disclose, and
for other reasons only too plain), the German designs were apparently
not understood by high officials who directed the course of France.
France made the mistake, as we are always likely to do, of reading
its own psychology into the minds of its opponents. Paris believed,
to use Voltaire's opinion of the prophet Habakkuk, that Germany was
capable of everything, except the very thing that Germany was
preparing without rest, without haste, and without shame to do--to
bleed her white!
From echoes in Copenhagen, we learned, too, that in Petrograd,
Germany was better understood because the Russian spies were real
spies; they knew what they were about, and, being half oriental, they
understood how to use the scimitar of Saladin. There were other spies
who knew only the use of the battle-axe of Coeur-de-Lion; but they
were often deceived though very well paid; in fact, the ordinary paid
spy is a bad investment. In Belgium the Internationals talked
universal peace; indeed, among others than the Internationals, the
army was disliked. As in Holland, German commercial aggression was
feared. The most amazing thing is that Internationalism did not
weaken the _morale_ of the heroic Belgians when the test came.
In Copenhagen, the idea of a permanent peace seemed untenable, and
war meant ruin to Denmark. This was not a pleasant state of mind; but
it did not induce subserviency. In the vaults of Hamlet's castle of
Elsinore on the delectable Sound, Holger Dansker sits, waiting to
save Denmark from the ruthless invader. There are brave Danes to-day
who would follow Holger, the Dane, to the death, who believe that
their country never can be enslaved; but, though the conquering
Germans spared Denmark, they did not need the knowledge of the fate
of Belgium to convince them of what they might expect as soon as it
pleased the Kaiser to act against them. The fate of Belgium had
confirmed the fears they had inherited. There is no doubt where their
hearts were, but a movement--a slight movement--against Germany would
have meant for the King of Denmark the fate of the King of Belgium or
the King of Serbia. That he is married to a princess half German by
blood would not shield him. Belgium was not spared because its queen
was of German birth.
Copenhagen, as I have said, was not only a city of rumours, but a
city of news. The pulse of Europe could be felt there because
Europeans of distinction were passing and repassing continually, and
the Danes, like the Athenians of St. Paul's time, love to hear new
things. But there was and is one old query which all Denmark never
forgets to ask: Will Danish Slesvig come back to its motherland?
Slesvig-Holstein is the Alsace-Lorraine question in Denmark. For
Slesvig Denmark would dare much. She could not court certain
destruction but, in her heart, 'Slesvig' is written as indelibly as
'Calais' was written in the heart of the dying queen, Mary Tudor.
She had forgiven and forgotten the loss of her fleet and the
bombardment of Copenhagen by the English in 1807 and 1814. She then
stood for France and new ideas, and Tory England made her suffer for
it. She lost Norway in 1814; she was reduced almost to bankruptcy;
and, until 1880, she could only devote her attention to the revival
of her economic life. Holstein was German; Slesvig, Danish. They
could not be united unless the language of one was made dominant over
the language of the other. The imperial law of Germany governed
Holstein; all Slesvig legislation had since 1241 been based upon the
laws of the Danish King Valdemar. To force the German law and
language on Slesvig was to wipe out all Danish ideas and ideals in
the most Danish of the provinces of Denmark. The attempt to Germanise
Slesvig took concrete form in 1830. Desiring to bring it under German
domination, Uve Lornsen, a Frisian lawyer, proposed to make the
Duchies of Slesvig and Holstein self-governing states, separated from
Denmark, and entirely under German influence. As, according to him,
only royal persons of the male lineage could govern the united
Duchies, the King of Denmark might have the title of Duke until the
male line should become extinct. Uve Lornsen met remonstrances based
on the laws and traditions of the Danes with the arrogant assertion,
uttered in German:
'Ancient history is not to be considered; we will have it our own way
now.'
Kristian Poulsen, a Dane, who knew both the German and the Danish
views, opposed the beginning of a process which meant the imposition
of autocratic methods on a people who were resolved to develop their
own national spirit in freedom.
In Slesvig there are 3613 square miles. In the greater part of this
territory, consisting of 2190 square miles, Danish was the
vernacular, while 1423 square miles were populated by speakers of
German. German power had secured German teaching for 220,000 people
in churches and schools. The injustice of this will be seen when it
is understood that only 110,000 were given opportunities, religious
and educational, of hearing Danish. Danish could not be used in the
courts of law. It was required that the clergy should be educated at
the University of Kiel, and other officials of the state could have
no chance of advancement unless they used German constantly and
fluently. The teachers in the communal schools were all trained in
Germany. The Danish speech was not used in a single college. In a
word, the German influence, under the eyes of a Danish king and
government, was driving out all the safeguards of Danish national
life in Slesvig.
King Christian VIII., partly awakened to the wrongs of the
Slesvigers, issued in 1840 a rescript insisting on the introduction
of Danish into the law courts. The German partisans were outraged by
this insult to German Kultur; no tongue but the German should be used
even in Danish Slesvig. The king, the Danish court, for over two
hundred years had been Germanised; the king did not dare to announce
himself as a nationalist; but, against the German partisans, he
decided that the Danish kings had always possessed the right of
succession in Denmark, that the succession was not confined to the
male line in Slesvig.
In Holstein the position was different. If the Danish line should
become extinct, the succession might fall to the Russian Emperor; but
Slesvig must be Danish. On the death of King Christian VIII. in 1848,
feeling ran high in Denmark and in Slesvig-Holstein. In truth, all
Europe was in a ferment. The results of the French revolt in 1830
were still leavening Europe. The Assembly of Holstein and Slesvig was
divided in opinion. The desire of the Germans in the provinces to
control the majority became more and more apparent. Danish interests
must disappear, the beginning of the German 'Kultur,' not yet
developed by Bismarck, must take its place. Five deputies were sent
to Copenhagen, with, among other demands, a demand that the Danish
part of the country be incorporated into the German confederation.
The citizens of Copenhagen had reason to believe that the Holstein
counts, Moltke and Reventlow-Criminel, potent ministers and men of
strong wills, might influence King Frederick VII. to give way to the
Germans. The king determined to dismiss these ministers; the demands
of the Town Council of Copenhagen and the people of Denmark were
answered before they were made. His Majesty had 'neither the will nor
the power to allow Slesvig to be incorporated in the German
Confederation; Holstein could pursue her own course.'[1]
[1] H. Rosendal, _The Problem of Danish Slesvig_.
But the German opposition in the provinces had not been idle. Berlin
had shown itself favourable to the Duke of Augustenburg, and the
Prince of Noer had headed a band of rebels against Denmark and
instigated the garrison of Rendsborg to mutiny on the plea that the
Danes had imprisoned their king. A contest of arms took place between
the two parties. Prussia interfered; but Prussia was not then what it
is now. At the conclusion of a three years' war, the rebels were
defeated and the King of Denmark decreed that Slesvig should be a
separate duchy, governed by its own assembly. The German party so
juggled the election--'Fatherland Over All' governed their point of
view, the end justified the means--that the Assembly shamefully
misrepresented the Danes. It was Prussianised.
The Danes did not lose heart--Slesvig must be Danish; but if they
allowed their language to disappear, there could be no hope for their
nationality. On the other hand, the Germans held, as they hold
to-day, that all languages must yield to theirs. The German press
would have extirpated the Danish language; it was seditious; the
Danes were rebels. From the Danish side to Tönder-Flensborg, the
official speech and that of the people was Danish. Between the two
Belts--the space can easily be traced on the map--Danish was spoken
in the churches every second Sunday. In the schools both Danish and
German was permitted; in the courts of law both languages were used.
You made your choice! The world was deceived by an unscrupulous
Assembly and the German press into the belief that Slesvig was
German, lovingly German, and that the Danes were merely restless
malcontents, hating the beneficent Prussian rule simply from a
perverted sense of their own importance.
The crucial moment came in 1864. Denmark had no real friends in
Europe. The United States, if her people had understood the matter,
would have been sympathetic; but, at the moment, she was fighting for
her own existence as a nation. The European powers, in spite of all
their statecraft, allowed themselves to be blinded. Austria,
apparently proud and noble, allowed herself, as usual, to be made the
tool of Prussia. The two powers, on the false pretence that the right
of Christian IX. to the succession to the duchies was involved,
forced Denmark, which stood alone, to surrender Slesvig-Holstein and
Lauenburg. This was the beginning of the mighty German Empire; it
made the Kiel Canal possible, and laid the foundation of the German
Navy. Slesvig, too, supplied the best sailors in the world. Bismarck,
when he cynically treated Slesvig as a pawn in his game, had his eye
on a future navy--a navy which would one day force the British from
the dominion of the sea.
He had his way. He became master of the Baltic and the North Sea.
Prussia, in forcing the Danish king to cede Slesvig, admitted his
right to the Duchies; yet the pretext for war on Denmark had been
that no such right existed. Prussia soon threw off her ally, Austria.
She did not want a half owner in the Holstein Canal or in the coming
fleet at Kiel.
It must be remembered that, when Christian IX. had ascended the
throne of Denmark, it had been with the consent of all the great
European powers. They had practically guaranteed him the right to
rule Slesvig-Holstein, and yet England and France and Russia stood by
and allowed the outrage to take place. France made an attempt to
satisfy her conscience. In the treaty of peace France had this clause
inserted:
'H.M. the Emperor of Austria hereby transfers to H.M. the King of
Prussia all the right which according to the Treaty of Peace of
Vienna of October 30, 1864, he had acquired in respect to the
Duchies of Slesvig and Holstein, provided that the northern
districts of Slesvig shall be united to Denmark, if the
inhabitants by a free vote declare their desire to that effect.'
This was a 'scrap of paper'--nothing more! Nevertheless a scrap of
paper may be inconvenient. Austria, never scrupulous when the
acquisition of new territory was expedient, was willing to help
Prussia to tear it up. Bosnia and Herzogovina raised their heads.
Austria wanted help from Prussia. Here was the Prussian chance to
induce her to abrogate her part in clause fifty of the peace treaty.
What matter? Denmark, in time, must be German, as Slesvig was German,
in spite of all right. Austria would play the same game with the
Slavs as Prussia had played with the Danes. Individuals might have
consciences, but nations had no system of ethics, and therefore no
canons (except those of expediency), to rule such consciences as they
had. Prussia treated the right of the Danes in Slesvig, guaranteed by
a 'scrap of paper,' to a free vote as to their fate, with contempt.
It had amused Bismarck to deceive France, the exponent of the new
democracy in Europe, but that was all. Slesvig was to be crushed
until it became quiescently Prussian. Prussia needed it, therefore it
must be Prussian. Fiat!
This is a plain, unvarnished tale. Few of my fellow-countrymen have
known it. Some who knew it hazily concluded that Slesvig had become
German of its own free will that it might belong to a prosperous and
great empire. Others, who remembered that, even in their struggle for
freedom in 1864, the Danes paused for a moment to give us their aid
at the request of President Lincoln, had a vague idea that wrong had
been done somehow; but how great the wrong, and how terrible the
effect of the wrong was to be on the history of the world, none of
them even dreamed; and yet it was plain enough to those who watched
the policy of blood and iron of this, the new Germany.
People who believed that Prussia had any respect for an engagement
that might seem to work against her own designs ought to have been
warned by the experience of Denmark. But there were those who
believed that the acquisition of Heligoland from the British was a
mere trifle, in which Germany had the worse of the bargain, as there
are people who held that the Danish West Indies were of no manner of
importance to us. They classed these acquisitions with that of
Alaska--'Seward's folly!'
And, in 1864, the old powers of Europe were so satisfied with their
own methods, or so engaged with internal questions, that they let the
monstrous tyranny of the conquest of Slesvig pass almost in silence.
Prussia alone kept her eyes on one thing--the increase of her
military power. In 1878 she induced Austria to abrogate her part in
the treaty of Vienna of October 30, 1864. Austria agreed to give up
any rights acquired by her in Slesvig-Holstein under the fifth clause
of that treaty. This withdrawal (not to be irreverent, it was like
the washing of the hands of Pontius Pilate) left Slesvig naked to her
enemy. The Prussian autocrats chuckled when they found themselves
bound by a 'scrap of paper' to the restoration of the northern
districts of Slesvig to Denmark, 'if the inhabitants by a free vote
declare their desire to that effect.'
The Imperial German statesmen, astute and unscrupulous, have always
taken religion into consideration in making their propaganda. The
German Crown Prince's sympathy with the same methods as used by
Napoleon Bonaparte was perhaps inherited from his ancestors, as
Napoleon, too, knew the political value of religion. The Church, an
enslaved Church in a despotic state,--the reverse of Cavour's famous
maxim--has always been one of statesmen's tools. They have never
hesitated to use religion as the means of accomplishing the ends of
the state. In fact, the Catholic Church in Germany was in great
danger of being enslaved. The old wars of the popes and the
emperors--so little understood in modern times--would be very
possible, had the victory of Germany been a probability.
Let us see what happened in Slesvig. Since '64, Prussia has governed
Slesvig. This rule has been a prolonged and constant attempt to force
the Danes from their homes. A very distinguished and rather liberal
German diplomatist, Count Brockdorff-Rantzau, once asked me, 'As an
American, tell me frankly what is wrong with our position in
Slesvig?'
'Everything,' I said. 'You seem even to assume that the religion of
the people should be the religion of the state.'
'The state religion in Slesvig is as the state religion in Denmark,
Lutheranism.'
'But not Germanised Lutheranism. I have the testimony of a Lutheran
pastor himself, the Reverend D. Troensegaard-Hansen, to the effect
that the authorities in Slesvig prefer German materialistic teaching
to Danish Christianity, and that all kinds of influence is brought to
bear on the clergy to make them German in their point of view. If, in
the Philippines, we attempted to do the things you do in Slesvig,
there would be no end of trouble.'
He laughed. 'But democrats as you are, you will never keep your
promise to grant those people self-government.'
'We will.'
'Your democracy is not statesmanlike. It would be fatal for us to let
the Slesvigers defy our power. They must be part of Germany; there is
no way out.'
'Either you want difficulties with them or you are worrying them just
as a great mastiff worries a small dog.'
'But suddenly a gymnast raises the Danish flag, or somebody utters a
seditious speech in Danish, or school books are circulated in which
ultra-Danish views of history are given. If a country is to be ruled
by us, it must be a German country. We can tolerate no difference
that tends to denationalise our population. It is a dream--the Danish
idea that we shall give up what we have taken or, rather, what has
been ceded to us.'
'Without the consent of the people?'
'Who are the people? When you answer that I will tell what is truth.
Come, you are a democrat; by and by, when you Americans are older,
you will see democracy from a more practical point of view.'
* * * * *
The practical point of view in Slesvig was squeezing out gradually
the independence of the Slesvigers. The Dane loves passionately his
home, his language, his literature. He may be sceptical about many
things, but it would be difficult to persuade him to deny that the
red and white flag, the Danish flag, did not come down from heaven
borne by angels! His culture is Danish, and part of his life. He
keeps it up wistfully even when he swears allegiance to another
nation. The Danes in Denmark will never cease to regard Slesvig as
their own. It is one flesh with them; but Prussia has torn this one
body asunder. Fancy a 'free election' being permitted in a country
ruled by Prussian autocrats or a 'free election' in Alsace-Lorraine
under German rule!
The geographical position of Denmark is unfortunate. There are
imperialists of all countries who hold that the little countries have
no right to live; Junkerism is not confined to Germany. The
geographical position of most of the little countries is unfortunate,
but none is so unfortunate as that of Denmark. When the war broke
out, it seemed to her people that the road to German conquest lay
through her borders. The Powers That Were in Germany decided to
attack Belgium, and for the moment Denmark escaped.
Do you think that it was an easy thing for a proud people to be in
the position of old King Canute before the advancing ocean? The waves
came on, but nobody in his wildest imaginings ever dreamed that the
modern Danish Canute could stem the tide. The Danes have their army
and their navy; officers and men expected to die defending Denmark.
What else could they do? Death would be preferable to slavery. The
Dane does his best to forget; but always the echo of the words of the
sentinel in _Hamlet_ recurs:
''Tis bitter cold, and I am sick at heart.'
No number of royal alliances counts as against a bad geographical
place in the world and the evil disposition of a strong neighbour. A
change of heart has come over the world since Germany induced Austria
to be her catspaw in 1914. The example of a country which
deliberately asserted that might makes right, and followed this
assertion with deeds that make the angels weep, has shocked the
world, and forced other nations to examine their consciences. After
all, we are a long time after Machiavelli. After the great breakdown
in Russia there was a feeling among some of the conservatives in
Denmark that the cousin of the Tsar of Russia, King George of
England, might have laid a restraining hand on the Russian parties
that forced the Tsar to abdicate. But the very mention of this seemed
utterly futile. The King of Spain, though married to an English
princess, could expect little help in any difficulty, were the
interests of the English Ministry not entirely his. The contemplation
of these alliances offers much material for the man who thinks in the
terms of history.
When President Fallières visited Copenhagen in 1908, there was a gala
concert given at the Palace of Amalieborg in his honour. The
President was accompanied by a 'bloc' of black-coated gentlemen, some
of them journalists of distinction.
There was no display of gold lace, and the representatives of the
French Republic were really republican in their simplicity. The
Danish court and the diplomatic corps were splendid, decorations
glittered, and the white and gold rococo setting of the concert room
was worthy of it all. The Queen of Denmark--now the Dowager
Queen--was magnificent, as she always is at gala entertainments,
possessing, as she does in her own right, some of the finest jewels
in Europe.
Fallières represented the new order. His hostess, the Queen, is the
daughter of Charles XV., a descendant of Bernadotte. Representing the
lines of both St. Louis and Louis Philippe was the Princess Valdemar,
now dead, who, as Marie of Orleans, came of the royal blood of the
families of Bourbon and Orleans.
It was interesting to watch this gracious princess, whose father, the
Duc de Chartres, had been with General McLellan during our Civil War.
She adapted herself to the circumstances, as she always did, and
seemed very proud of the honours shown to France. The Countess
Moltke-Huitfeldt, Louise Bonaparte, was not in Denmark at the time.
It would have added interest to the occasion, had this descendant of
the youngest brother of the Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte been there.
Count Moltke-Huitfeldt, married to Louise Eugénie Bonaparte, is
almost as French in his sentiments as his wife, and, for her, when
the United States joined hands with France, it was a very happy day.
One of the events that made the fine castle of Glorup, the seat of
the Moltke-Huitfeldts, interesting was the visit of the ex-Empress
Eugénie.
The Empress Eugénie, like all the Bonapartes, acknowledged the
validity of the Patterson-Bonaparte marriage. She has always shown a
special affection and esteem for the Countess Moltke-Huitfeldt.
The estate of Glorup, with its artificial lake and garden, in which
Hans Christian Andersen often walked, was copied by an ancestor of
the present count's from a part of Versailles. It was at its best
during the visit of the empress, who was the most considerate of
guests. The American Bonapartes were not ranked as royal highnesses
for fear, on the part of Napoleon III. and Prince Napoleon,
'Plon-plon,' of raising unpleasant questions as to the succession.
Jerome himself, for a short time King of Westphalia, never pretended
that his American marriage was not valid. Meeting Madame
Patterson-Bonaparte by accident in the Pitti Palace, he whispered to
the Princess of Würtemburg--she had then ceased to be Queen of
Westphalia--'There is my American wife.' Mr. Jerome Bonaparte was
offered the title of 'Duke of Sartine' by Napoleon III. if he would
give up the name of his family, which, of course, he declined to do.
Under the French laws, as well as the American, he was the
legitimate son of Jerome Bonaparte. The presence of the Countess
Moltke-Huitfeldt would have added another interesting touch to the
assemblage in Amalieborg Palace, a touch which would have served for
a footnote to history. In spite of the name 'Moltke,' Count Adam and
his wife are as French as the French themselves. Names in Denmark are
very deceptive.
The question of war was even then, in 1908, in the air. The German
diplomatists were polite to Fallières, but they considered him heavy
and _bourgeois_, and believed that he represented the undying dislike
for Germany which the French system of education was inculcating.
'If the French schools teach the rising generation to hate Germany,
what is the attitude of the German educators?' I asked.
'We know that we are hated, and we teach our young to be ready for an
attack from wherever it comes; but we love peace, of course.'
In 1908, it was generally thought that the Kaiser himself was
inclined to keep the peace. Now and then an isolated Englishman would
declare that he had his doubts, when a German traveller seemed to
know _too_ much about his country, or when amiable German guests
asked too many intimate questions.
It was the custom for the older colleagues to offer the newer ones a
history of the Slesvig-Holstein dispute, which dated from the
fifteenth century. On my arrival, Sir Alan Johnston had presented me
with a volume on the subject by Herr Neergaard, considered the 'last
word' on the subject. The pages, I noticed, were uncut, so I felt
justified in passing it on to the newest colleagues, taking care, in
order to give him perfect freedom, not to autograph it!
It was, as a French secretary often said, 'a complication most
complicated'; but one fact was clear--the deplorable position of a
liberty-loving people, deprived of the essentials that make life
worth living!
The great barrier to the entire domination of Prussian ideals in this
area between the Baltic and the North Sea is the existence of the
Danish national spirit in Slesvig. 'If the other nations of Europe
had looked ahead, the power of Prussia might have been held within
reasonable bounds; the war in 1870 would have been impossible; this
last awful world-conflict would not have occurred. Germany would have
been taught her place long ago.' How often was this repeated!
The relations between the Emperor William and the Emperor of Russia
were supposed to be unusually friendly then, after the practical
defeat of Russia by Japan. In older days, Queen Louise of Denmark
thought she had laid the foundation for a certain friendliness; but,
nevertheless, the Tsar, though closely related to the Kaiser and
dominated largely by his very beautiful German wife, was never free
to ignore the Slavic genius of his people. Kings and emperors--all
royal folk--made up a family society of their own until this war. We
have changed all that, as the man in Molière's comedy said; and yet,
as a rule, German royal princesses remained Prussian in spite of all
temptation, while other women seemed naturally to adopt the
nationalities of their husbands. The princesses connected with the
Prussian royal house seem immutably Prussian.
The Tsar, then, like the Kaiser, cousin of the King of England, the
son of a mother who remembered Slesvig-Holstein and never liked the
Prussians, had second thoughts. (They were nearly always wrong when
his wife influenced them.) It was one thing to call the mighty
Prussian 'Willie'--all royalties have little domestic names--another
to break with France and to bow the Slavic head to German benevolent
assimilation. The Tsar might call the Emperor by any endearing
epithet, but that did not imply political friendship; King George of
Greece and Queen Alexandra were very fond of each other, but the
queen would never have attempted to give her brotherly Majesty the
Island of Crete which he badly wanted. With the death of the queen
of Christian IX., assemblies of royalties ceased in Denmark; the old
order had changed.
There was no neutral ground where the royalties and their scions
could meet and soften asperities by the simplicity of family contact.
The point of view in Europe had become more democratic and more keen.
Even if there had been a Queen Louise to try to make her family, even
to the remotest grandchild, a unit, it could not have been done.
Reverence for royalty had passed out with Queen Victoria; the idols
were dissolving, and restless ideals became visible in their places.
Prussia had drawn her states into a united empire; tributary kings
were at the chariot wheel of the Prussian Emperor, not because the
kings so willed, but because the subjects of the kings--the
commercial people, the landowners, the military caste, the
capitalists, the increasingly prosperous farmers--discovered it to be
to their advantage.
Bismarck's policy of blood and iron meant more money and more worldly
success for the Germans. Although the smaller Teutonic states had
lost their freedom, Bismarck began to pay each of them its price in
good gold with the stamp of the empire upon it. To take and to hold
was the motto of the empire:--'We take our own wherever we find it!'
The old Germans disappeared; the Germans who were frugal and
philosophical, poor and poetical, were emerging from the simplicity
of the past to the luxury of the present.
As a rule, I found the Russian diplomatists very well informed and
clever. Their foreign office seemed to have no confidants outside
the bureaucratic circle. The Russian journalist, like most other
journalists, was not better or earlier informed of events than the
diplomatists. As Copenhagen was the place where every diplomat in the
world went at some time or other, one was sure to discover
interesting rumours or real news without much trouble.
While the newspapers or magazines of nearly every other nation gave
indications in advance of the public opinion that might govern the
cabinets or the foreign offices, the Russian periodicals gave no such
clues. There was no use in keeping a Russian translator; real Russian
opinion was seldom evident, except when a royalty or a diplomatist
might, being bored by his silence, or with a patriotic object, tell
the truth.
'What prevents war?' I asked in 1909 of one of my colleagues.
'Lack of money,' he answered promptly, repeating the words of Prince
Koudacheff. 'Germany and Russia will fly at each other's throats as
soon as the financiers approve of it. You will not report this to
your Foreign Office,' he said, laughing, 'because America looks on
war, a general European war, as unthinkable. It would seem absurd!
Nobody in America and only ten per cent. of the thinking people in
England will believe it! As for France, she is wise to make friends
with my country, but she would be wiser if she did not believe that
Germany will wait until she is ready to make her _revanche_. There
are those in her government who hold that the _revanche_ is a
dream--that France would do well to accept solid gains for the
national dream. They are fools!'
'Iswolsky is of the same opinion, I hear,' I said, for we had all a
great respect for Iswolsky. But when the London _National Review_
repeated the same sentiments over and over again, it seemed
unbelievable that the Kaiser's professions of peace were not honest.
Yet individual Pan-Germans were extremely frank. 'We must have our
place in the East,' they said; 'we must cut the heart out of Slavic
ambitions, and deal with English arrogance.' In a general way, we
were always waiting for war.
In 1909, Count Aehrenthal, then a very great Austrian, told a
celebrated financial promoter who visited our Legation, that war was
inevitable. The Austrians and the Russians feared it and believed
it--feared it so much that when I was enabled to contradict the
rumour, there was a happy sigh as the news was well documented.
Austria did not want war; Russia did not want war.
'But the Emperor of Germany?' I asked of one of the most honourable
and keenest diplomatists in Berlin.
'He is surrounded by a military clique; he desires to preserve the
rights and prerogatives of the German Empire, above all, the
hereditary and absolute principle without a long war. A war will do
it for him--if it is short. He himself would prefer to avoid it. Yet
he must justify the Army and the Navy; but the war must be short.'
'But does he _want_ war?'
'He is not bloodthirsty; he knows what war means, but he will want
what his _clique_ wants.'
These two diplomatists are both alive--one in exile--but I shall not
mention their names. My colleagues were sometimes very frank. It
would not be fair to tell secrets which would embarrass them--for a
harmless phrase over a glass of Tokai is a different thing read
over a glass of cold water! And, in the old days, before 1914,
good dinners and good wines were very useful in diplomatic
'conversations.' Things began to change somewhat when after-dinner
bridge came in. But, dinner or no dinner, bridge or no bridge, the
diplomatic view was always serious.
In Denmark the thoughtful citizen often said, 'We are doomed; Germany
can absorb us.' Count Holstein-Ledreborg once said, 'But Providence
may save us yet.'
'By a miracle.'
It seemed absurd in 1908 that any great power should be allowed to
think of conquering a smaller nation, simply because it was small.
'You don't reckon with public opinion--in the United States, for
instance,--or the view of the Hague Conference,' I said.
'Public opinion in your country or anywhere else will count little
against Krupp and his cannon. Public opinion will not save Denmark,
for even Russia might have reason to look the other way. That would
depend on England.'
It seemed impossible, for, like most Americans, I was almost an
idealist. The world was being made a vestibule of heaven, and the
pessimist was anathema! Was not science doing wonderful things? It
had made life longer; it had put luxuries in the hands of the poor.
The bad old days, when Madame du Barry could blind the eyes of Louis
XV. to the horrors of the partition of Poland, and when the proud
Maria Theresa could, in the same cause, subordinate her private
conscience to the temptations of national expediency, were over. No
man could be enslaved since Lincoln had lived! The Hague Conference
would save Poland in due time, the democratic majority in Great
Britain and Ireland was undoing the wrongs of centuries by granting
Home Rule for Ireland, and, as for the Little Nations, public
opinion would take care of them!
'What beautiful language you use, Mr. Minister,' said Count
Holstein-Ledreborg; 'but you Americans live in a world of your own.
Nobody knows what the military party in Germany will do. Go to
Germany yourself. It is no longer the Germany of Canon Schmid, of
Auerbach, of Heyse, of the Lorelei and the simple musical concert and
the happy family life. Why, as many cannons as candles are hung on
the Christmas trees!'
I repeated this speech to one of the most kindly of my colleagues,
Count Henckel-Donnersmarck, who was really a sane human creature, too
bored with artificiality to wear his honours with comfort.
'Oh, for your dress coat,' he would say. 'Look at my gold lace; I am
loaded down like a camel. The old Germany, _cher collègue_, it is
gone. I long for it; I am not of blood and iron; the old Germany, you
will not find it, though you search even Bavaria and Silesia. And I
believe, with the great Frederick, that your great country and mine
may possess the future, if we are friends; therefore,' he smiled, 'I
will not deceive you. The Germany of the American imagination, our
old Germany, is gone.' He hated court ceremonies, whereas I rather
like them; they were beautiful and stately symbols, sanctified by
tradition. He ought to have danced at the court balls, but he never
would. He was lazy. He was grateful to my wife, because she ordered
me to dance the cotillions with Countess Henckel, who must dance with
somebody who 'ranked,' or sit for five or six hours on a crimson
bench.
The Danes had no belief that we could or would help them in a
conflict for salvation, but they liked us. In 1909, when Dr. Cook
suddenly came, they declared that they would take 'the word of an
American gentleman' for his story of the North Pole. Sweden accepted
him at once, England was divided--King Edward against Cook; Queen
Alexandra for him! When Admiral Peary made his claim, the Queen of
England said,--'Thank heaven! it is American against American, and
not Englishman against American.'
We were all glad of that; and I was very grateful to the Danes for
showing respect for the honour of an American, in whom none of us had
any reason to disbelieve. There was no warning from the scientists in
the United States. The German savants accepted Dr. Cook at once. In
fact, until Admiral Peary sent his message, there seemed to be no
doubt as to Cook's claims, except on the part of the Royal British
Geographical Society. I joined the Danish Royal Geographical Society
at his reception; it was not my duty to cast aspersions on the honour
of an American, of whom I only knew that he had written _The Voyage
of the Belgic_, had been the associate of Admiral Peary, and was a
member of very good clubs. Even if I had been scientific enough to
have doubts, I should have been polite to him all the same.
As it was, Denmark was delighted to welcome Cook because he was an
American; he had apparently accomplished a great thing, and besides,
he directed attention from politics at a tremendous public crisis.
The great question for the Danish Government was as usual: Shall we
defend ourselves? Shall we build ships and keep a large army and
erect fortresses, or simply say 'Kismet' when Germany comes? The
Conservatives were for defence; the Radicals and Socialists against
it. Mr. J. C. Christensen, one of the most powerful of Danish
politicians, of the Moderate School, holding the balance of power,
was in a tight place. Alberti, the clever Radical, had been supported
by Christensen, who had been innocently involved in his fall. Alberti
languished in jail, and Christensen was being horribly assailed when
Dr. Cook came and Denmark forgot Christensen and went wild with
delight!
In 1907-8, Denmark trembled for fear that she would lose her freedom.
When would the Germans attack? The disorder in Slesvig was perennial.
A bill for a reasonable defence had been proposed to the Danish
Parliament. King Frederick had had great difficulty in forming a
ministry. Count Morgen Friis, capable, distinguished, experienced,
but with some of the indolence of the old grand seigneur, had
refused. Richelieu could not see his way clear; nobody wanted the
responsibility. The Socialists and the Radicals, practical, if you
like, did not believe in building forts in the hope of saving the
national honour.
King Frederick VIII. was at his wit's end for a premier, for, as I
have said, even Count Morgen Friis, a man of undoubted ability and
great influence, failed him. King Frederick, because of his desire to
stand well with his people, was never popular. His glove was too
velvety, and he treated his political enemies as well as he did his
friends. Count Friis was known to lean towards England, and he was
very popular; he would have stood for a strong defence.
Admiral de Richelieu was a man of great influence, a devoted
Slesviger, and the greatest 'industrial,' with the exception of
State-Councillor Andersen, in Denmark; he was not keen for the
premiership, and his friends did not care that he should compromise
their business interests; for, in Denmark, business and politics do
not mix well.
Finally, King Frederick called on Count Holstein-Ledreborg, without
doubt, with perhaps the exception of--but I must not mention living
men--the cleverest man in Denmark. Count Holstein-Ledreborg was a
recluse; he had been practically exiled by the scornful attitude
taken by the aristocracy on account of his Radicalism, but had
returned to his Renascence castle near the old dwelling-place of
Beowulf. Count Holstein-Ledreborg was the last resource, he had been
out of politics for many years. Although he was a pessimist, he was a
furious patriot. He had a great respect for the abilities of the
Radicals, like Edward Brandès, but very little for those--'if they
existed,' he said--of his own class in the aristocracy. He was one of
the few Catholics among the aristocracy, and he had a burning
grievance against the existing order of churchly things. The State
church in Denmark is, like that of Sweden and Norway, Lutheran. Until
1848, except in one or two commercial towns where there was a
constant influx of merchants, no Catholic church was permitted. The
chapel of Count Holstein in his castle of Ledreborg, was still
Lutheran. He was not permitted to have Mass said in it, as it was a
church of the commune. This made the Lord of Ledreborg furious. There
must be Lutheran worship in his own chapel, or no worship; this was
the law!
There was something else that added to his indignation. One day, very
silently, he opened the doors that concealed a panel in the wall.
There was a very Lutheran picture indeed! It was done in glaring
colours, even realistic colours. It represented various devils,
horned and tailed and pitch-forked, poking into the fire in the lower
regions a pope and several cardinals, who were turning to crimson
like lobsters, while some pious Lutheran prelates gave great thanks
for this agreeable proceeding. 'In my own chapel,' said Count
Holstein, 'almost facing the altar; and the law will not permit me to
remove it!'
Being an American, I smiled; thereby, I almost lost a really valued
friendship.
'I shall arrange with the king to give a substitute for the chapel to
the commune--a school-house or a library--and have the chapel
consecrated,' he said. 'I think I see my way.'
'"All things come to him who knows how to wait,"' I quoted.
In 1909, at the time of the crisis, he accepted the task of forming a
cabinet to get the defence bill through Parliament, but he made one
condition with the king--that he should have his own chapel to do as
he liked with. He carried the defence bill through triumphantly and
then, having made his point, and finding Parliament unreasonable,
from his point of view, on some question or other, he told its
members to go where Orpheus sought Eurydice, and retired! He died too
soon; he would have been a great help to us in the troubled days when
we were trying to buy the Virgin Islands. He was my mentor in
European politics, and a most distinguished man; and what is better,
a good friend. At times he was sardonic. 'I would make,' he said, 'if
I had the power, Edward Brandès (Brandès is of the famous Brandès
family) minister of Public Worship!' (As Brandès is a Jew and a Greek
pagan both at once, it would have been one of those ironies of
statecraft like that which made the Duke of Norfolk patron of some
Anglican livings.) Count Holstein disliked state churches. He was a
strange mixture of the wit of Voltaire with the faith of Pascal, and
one of the most inflexible of Radicals.
The party for the defence and for the integrity of the army and navy
had its way; but, owing to the attitude of the Socialists, a very
moderate way. 'If Germany comes, she will take us,' the Radicals said
with the Socialists; 'why waste public money on soldiers and military
bands and submarines?'
But there are enough stalwarts, including the king, Christian, to
believe that a country worth living in is worth fighting for!