No. 1.
(_From Herr Von Bethmann Hollweg._)
MAJESTY,--Though you will never receive this letter, I feel that I must
write it if only to relieve my mind of an intolerable burden. There is
no doubt about it, things are not going well with us, and we shall soon
be in a situation of a most deplorable kind. Our armies have been driven
back in France--this is what VON STEIN means when he declares that we
have had "partial successes"--and Paris, which was to be captured weeks
ago, seems to be as strong and as defiant as ever. The English are still
unbroken and are pouring new armies into France. In Galicia the wretched
Austrians are running like sheep; even Servia has beaten them and is
invading Hungary and Bosnia; and our wonderful fleet, which cost so much
good money, is bottled up. Soon we shall have the Cossacks on our backs,
and then the dance will begin in earnest.
But you don't care--not a bit of it. You've been prancing about and
making speeches and showing yourself on balconies and congratulating God
on being such a good German. Do for Heaven's sake give us all a rest. We
are in for a frightful war, and untold miseries are sure to fall upon
us. Do you suppose that we shall be helped to bear them if you continue
to act like an inebriated madman in the sight of the whole world?
Of course I shall have to bear the responsibility. I know that well
enough. So, while I still have the liberty to use my pen, I mean to make
my protest and throw back the burden you want to put upon me. Let me
tell you this: you can't go on bragging and trampling on others and
glorifying your splendid and immaculate self without rousing anger
somewhere. Other people have their feelings--I've got some left
myself--and in the long run they're bound to get tired of being exposed
to your insolence. We may be miserable worms, but we don't want to be
told so every day.
And then how wanton and silly the whole management of the affair has
been. Think of our Empire so gloriously won, so magnificently
established. France, no doubt, brooded over the possibility of a
_revanche_, but no other country envied us our success or desired either
to damage our _prestige_ or to interfere with our growing commerce.
Everybody was glad to hail us as friends. And now nearly the whole of
Europe has been brought about our ears. Almost all countries wish for
our destruction and are trying to bring it about. Italy deserts us. Even
America, though you cringe to her, dislikes us and mentions Louvain when
we speak of culture. What a masterpiece of folly and miscalculation and
wasted opportunity it has all been. And the truth is that there's nobody
to thank for it except your sublime self. Others have made mistakes, but
you alone were capable of constructing this colossal monument of
detestable blunders. Our fault has been that we did not attempt to check
you when you pulled on your jack-boots and mounted your high-horse to
ride rough-shod over the world, and that we pretended to believe you
when you assured us that all was well because you had taken in the
Almighty as a sleeping-partner in the business of governing a State.
That fault in all conscience is big enough, but it becomes a mere speck
when it is measured against yours.
I could add more, but what I have said is enough. At any rate I am now
feeling better.
Yours, with all deference,