proposition seems too far-reaching and—being without precedent—too
uncanny; hence the adjournment to wait for further instructions. Stead,
in his chronicle in the _Dagblad_, calls attention to this and implores
the committee to modify the article at the next reading.
On the nineteenth of July the committee assembles again. Herr Beldimann
in an hour’s speech attacks the Commission of Inquiry with all his
energy. Roumania, he declares, will enter into no arrangement that shall
have an obligatory character. Not for a moment will it permit the rights
of its sovereign independence to be brought into question. (I love the
Roumanians proud!) He moves the rejection of the whole proposition.
Servia upholds the arguments of the previous speaker. Chevalier Descamps
defends the motion, and he is followed in this by Herr Martens, who
speaks with still greater energy. Objections like those expressed by the
representative of Roumania ought not to prevent an arrangement which is
calculated to assure universal peace and avoid conflicts.
In the afternoon comes the second meeting of the committee. The text of
the controverted paragraph is somewhat altered. An additional clause
reads:
The report of the International Commission of Inquiry is limited to a
statement of facts, and has in no way the character of an arbitral
decision. It leaves the powers that are in dispute entire freedom as
to the weight to be given to this statement.
On the other hand, the phrase “honor and vital interests” is omitted.
Roumania and Servia desire to wait for further instructions by wire.
July 20. The articles regarding mediation and good offices are accepted
without objection. When the article on the Commission of Inquiry is
reached, Beldimann declares that he has not yet received any reply from
his government. A few delegates are indignant at the further
procrastination, and it is finally decided to take up the article again
in two days. Now, without further objections, the reading of the report
is continued. When Article 27 is reached,—the one proposed by
D’Estournelles, which lays an obligation upon the powers to remind
parties in dispute that there is a Tribunal,—the interest of the session
reaches its culminating point.
The representatives of Roumania and Servia set themselves in violent
opposition to it. But Professor Zorn warmly advocates its acceptance.
Dr. Holls declares that Article 27 is the crown of the whole work, and
he decidedly protests against any change in its wording.
Count Nigra, kindled by the electricity of the atmosphere, springs up
and apostrophizes the representatives of the Danube states: “We are here
neither as great nor as small states; we are all alike sovereign—we act
here as free and equal.”
The sensation of the session was still to come. Never before had a more
excited and more elevated feeling ruled in the “House in the Wood.”
Never before had the transactions aroused so much moral enthusiasm. So
the moment was favorable when Léon Bourgeois took the floor, and in
fiery words, in the name of France, supplemented the speech made by
Professor Zorn. In one point he was obliged, he said, to oppose Count
Nigra,—there are great and smaller powers. But the measure of greatness
is not to be found in the area of their territory, nor in the
effectiveness of their troops, nor in the number of their inhabitants.
The greatness of a power is to be measured by the greatness of its ideas
and by the faithfulness with which it adheres to the principles on which
the progress of mankind is based.
The orator spoke further in the same tenor, and all listened as if under
a spell. When he ended, the storm of applause would not cease, and one
delegate after another warmly pressed around the speaker to congratulate
him.
And Article 27 was accepted.
July 22. Again the Commission of Inquiry. The question is asked whether
the representatives of Roumania, Greece, and Servia have received the
answers of their governments. Mr. Delyannis declares, in the name of
Greece, that he has been instructed to accept the new form of the
convention. Dr. Velkovitch,[43] in the name of Servia, makes a similar
declaration. Now it is Roumania’s turn. The president announces that he
has just had a letter from Herr Beldimann, stating that his instructions
have come to-day authorizing him to accept the new form, but only on
condition that the eliminated clauses, “honor and interests of the
nations” and “when circumstances allow,” be restored. Otherwise Roumania
cannot sign the convention.
Put to vote, the Beldimann ultimatum is accepted.
In the last plenary session, on July 28, Descamps’s “Rapport final à la
Conférence sur le règlement pacifique des conflits internationaux” is
read.
The introduction to this document brings out thoughts and points of view
which embrace the whole ideal of peace,—I might rather say the whole
gospel of peace,—as, for example:
Resolved to use every endeavor to bring about the peaceful solution of
international conflicts; recognizing the solidarity which unites
shoulder to shoulder all the civilized nations; desirous of extending
the sovereignty of law and of strengthening the sentiment of
international justice, etc., the undersigned [the names follow] have
agreed upon the following provisions.
The first of the sixty-one paragraphs gives the gist of everything that
is elaborated in the rest:
“With a view to obviating, as far as possible, recourse to force in the
relations between states, the signatory powers agree to use their best
efforts to insure the pacific settlement of international differences.”
Early on July 29 the conventions were signed in the “House in the Wood,”
and the formal concluding session took place in the afternoon. The last
word—it was uttered by D’Estournelles—was:
“May our Conference be a beginning, not a conclusion. May our countries,
by inaugurating new assemblages such as this has been, continue to serve
the cause of civilization and of peace!”
LXI
AFTER THE HAGUE CONFERENCE
Journey to Norway to the ninth Interparliamentary Conference · The
woman’s movement in the North · Military honors shown the friends of
peace · Evening before the Conference · Björnstjerne Björnson · Opening
in the Storthing · A _mot_ by Minister Steen · Report on the Nobel
foundation · Garden party at Steen’s · Henrik Ibsen · At M. Catusse’s ·
Excursion to Frognersättern · Last session · Message from The Hague ·
Final banquet · Björnson as a speaker · My interview with him ·
Harmannsdorf again · Aunt Büschel’s death · Margarete Suttner’s
betrothal · Letter from Count Apponyi · What then constituted my life ·
A physician’s prescription · Controversy between the jingoes and
pacifists in England · End of the Dreyfus affair · Germany’s naval plan
· The South African war breaks out · Letter from Count Nigra
As soon as we returned to Harmannsdorf I set to work revising my diary
from which have been taken, for this autobiography, most of the passages
referring to the Conference. I sent the book to the publisher, and it
appeared in 1900, but I cannot report any great awakening of interest
thereby. The contemporary world is either indifferent or unfriendly in
its attitude toward the Hague Conference.
We remained at home only a short time. After about three weeks we
started forth again, this time for Norway. Invitations from the
management of the Interparliamentary Conference which was to meet there
from the first to the sixth of August had come to us, as well as to Herr
von Bloch, requesting us to attend the deliberations and festivities as
guests of honor. We did not require a second invitation. A journey to
the Northland, what a holiday!
Again a wholly new part of the world opening before us. We reached
Christiania on the evening of July 30. On the thirty-first the ship
placed at the disposal of the interparliamentarians was to arrive. This
ship was met by another, on which were the managers of the Conference as
well as such of the deputies as had preferred to come by rail. John Lund
invited us to accompany him on the trip.
There were many other guests besides us on board. We met many old
friends and acquaintances, including Ullman (the president of the
Storthing), Von Bar of the University of Göttingen, Marcoartu, Baron
Pirquet, and others. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, the blue sky
was cloudless, the fiord lay bathed in the brightest sunshine, and a
cool breeze stirred the air. A military orchestra was on board, and to
the strains of the Norwegian national hymn our steamer moved away.
Streamers of the various colors of the fourteen countries represented at
the Conference waved from the masts.
We made many new acquaintances. The wife of Blehr, afterwards minister
but at that time ambassador in Stockholm, told me about the progress of
the woman’s movement already started in Norway; she said that they were
not far from the attainment of suffrage. Every one, from the wives of
statesmen down to the peasant women, was taking an active part in
political life.
I asked if it were true that Sweden and Norway were living like
quarrelsome brethren.
“No,” replied Frau Blehr, “the relationship is that of a marriage in
which the man has everything, the wife nothing, to say; and, according
to modern ideas, that can be no kind of a happy marriage. Norway, in
this union, plays the part of the wife without authority, and what she
wants is what to-day the woman with equal privileges demands in
marriage—the right to her own personality.”
We sailed past a small flotilla of war vessels which were in readiness
to meet the ship of the interparliamentarians and give it convoy. A war
flotilla to meet a ship of peace! This new method of showing honor
surprised me. Lund told us that the committee had found some difficulty
in overcoming the opposition of the conservatives, who regarded it as
out of character that military honors should be paid to the champions of
antimilitarism. Such parties are accustomed to take great stock in the
notion of a quiet amalgamation of contrarieties. Soldiers and pacifists
need not be antagonistic or endeavor to destroy one another, but may
join in a higher unity,—an army fighting for assured legal protection.
Greetings and shouts were exchanged between our ship and the fleet,
although this conduct was contrary to the stipulation that during the
trip they should take no notice of each other. About five o’clock the
vessels met. John Lund and other members of the Storthing were rowed
over to the parliamentary vessel and boarded her to extend greetings.
The fortification of Oskarborg fired a salute. At the foot of the walls
troops were drawn up and a loud hurrah, divided into three regular
periods and nine times repeated,—that being the Northern cheer,—came
across distinctly, and the flags were dipped in salutation. Beyond
Oskarborg, as soon as the two parliamentary vessels arrived, the war
ships took the lead and gave convoy up to the city of the Congress.
At nine o’clock in the evening, but still in clear daylight, we make our
entry into Christiania. The quay along its whole extent is thronged with
jubilant townspeople; people stream forth from all the side streets.
On the evening of the first of August there is a miscellaneous
assemblage, with a concert in the Hans-Haugen, a public garden situated
on a hill. We meet old acquaintances: Dr. Barth from Berlin, Dr.
Harmening from Jena, Pierantoni from Rome, Senator Labiche from Paris,
Count Albert Apponyi from Budapest, Gniewocz and Dr. Millanich from
Vienna. Also many new delegates attending their first Interparliamentary
Conference are presented to me; among them several members of the Center
in the German Reichstag, Dr. Herold, and a few of the Young-Czech party
from the Austrian parliament.
A gigantic figure approaches me. I instantly recognize the
characteristic head with the white lion’s mane: oh, joy—it is
Björnstjerne Björnson. He kisses my hand and we chat a few minutes; but
soon a frail little woman in a white gown hurries up to him, with the
words, “Father, they are looking for you....”
Björnson introduces his daughter, Frau Ibsen.
A buffet was arranged for the assembled guests in a large hall. During
the festival the papers arrive with news about the close of the
Conference at The Hague. A passage from Beaufort’s speech was most
eagerly discussed. On account of technical difficulties the formula for
a limitation of armaments adapted to the new conditions in all countries
has not as yet been drawn up, but all are agreed on the principle that
this formula must be sought and found. Here now is a task laid out for
the Interparliamentary Union, namely, to develop further the work begun
at The Hague.
At this writing—1908—however, that formula has not been found.
Parliamentarians, with but few exceptions, when they are not in the
Conference but in parliament, do nothing but consent, consent. The study
of the problem was postponed from the first to the second and from the
second to the third Hague Conference, and still it remains
uninvestigated. Where there is no will, there is no way.
On the next day—to return to 1899—came the formal opening in the
Storthing. At the earlier Conferences scarcely more than sixty or eighty
persons were present; this time there are more than three hundred.
Germany, which hitherto has been represented by not more than two or
three, sends forty to Christiania; France sends twenty-six, Austria
fourteen. If this continues, special halls will have to be built for the
“Interparliament”!
I noted the final sentence from Minister of State Steen’s opening
speech: “And so we shall be victorious—which will be a blessing to the
defeated.” That gives the criterion for what all noble champions of the
future are to attain.
President Ullman makes a report on the Nobel foundation. The first
distribution is to take place on the tenth of December, 1901. The
interest accruing up to that time is to be employed as a capital fund
for the creation of a Nobel Institute in Christiania, that is, a central
school for the study and development of international law. From the
annual income of the bequest (200,000 Swedish kroner) 50,000 kroner are
to be reserved for the support of the Institute.
For the first time the United States of America is represented at an
Interparliamentary Conference. Mr. Barrows reports that in his country
there are many people who have never seen an officer and many officers
who have never seen their regiment assembled. He believes that he is
warranted—especially in view of the instructions and proposals intrusted
to the delegates to the Hague Conference—in declaring that the jingo
spirit, which was aroused by the last war with Spain, and which is in
such absolute opposition to the fundamental principles of the land of
the star-spangled banner, will never get the upper hand.
So this was the first time that an American representative appeared in
the arena of the Interparliamentary Union; but of late the New World is
taking the first place in the universal peace movement. From that
direction will come for the Old World the impulse, the example,—perhaps
the necessity,—for the creation of United Europe.
Mr. Barrows was followed by Count Albert Apponyi. He informed the
meeting that Koloman von Szell, the former leader of the Hungarian
Interparliamentary group, had now become prime minister. Fiery, eloquent
as always, flowed Apponyi’s speech, and when he had finished, Björnson
went up to him and pressed his hand.
In the evening a garden party at Minister of State Steen’s. Here I met
Ibsen. Long ago I had written him to get his views in regard to the
peace cause. He then replied that his life was wholly devoted to the
dramatic art and he had no views at all on the question at issue. I now
wanted to ask if his presence was a sign of an awakened interest in the
movement, but some one came between us and I had no other chance to
resume the interrupted conversation.
The next afternoon we made the acquaintance of all the members of the
French group present. M. Catusse, the recently accredited ambassador of
France at Stockholm, whom we had met before both at Nice and at The
Hague, had invited all his French colleagues to take tea with him, and
my husband and I were also asked. We found more than a dozen members of
the Chamber and the Senate, among them the former premier, Cochery.
We spoke of Léon Bourgeois. He had left The Hague for Paris on account
of the last cabinet crisis, and there he had informed several of the
gentlemen that he should be unwilling to undertake the formation of a
new cabinet, because he considered the work that he had to complete at
The Hague more important.
Senator Labiche told us that the day before, when he was introduced to
Björnson, the poet asked him point blank, _Êtes-vous Dreyfusard?_—for
Björnson himself is.
The day and evening ended with an entertainment given by the city. A
hundred and fifty carriages were in readiness and took the guests to the
Frognersättern, a favorite place of resort, the road to which winds up
continuously for five miles through thick forest trees, past all the red
cottages of the peasantry, which give the characteristic physiognomy to
“the land of the thousand homesteads,” as the poet of the national hymn
(Björnson) calls his native land. In the midst of the forest, on high
land, you pass glittering lakes, and, wherever there is a wide prospect,
fiord and city gleam in ever-varying beauty.
On the second and last day of the Conference the transactions occupied
the whole time from nine o’clock until five. The principal subject on
the programme was the Conference at The Hague. Stanhope reads a message
brought from there by W. T. Stead and bearing the signatures of
Beernaert, Rahusen, D’Estournelles, Descamps, and others. This message
communicates to their colleagues assembled at Christiania the outcome of
the arbitration question,—a result which, as soon as its importance is
grasped, will be recognized as the crowning event of the nineteenth
century. The conclusion of the message read:
“So this is the machine which the Hague Conference has created, and it
is for you, representatives of the nations, and for the nations to
provide it with steam.”
A duty which—I repeat it with regret—neither the nations nor their
representatives up to the present time have fulfilled.
It was voted that Paris should be the place for the next Conference, and
the date, 1900.
The last evening was devoted to the parting banquet, given by the
Storthing. Björnson arose as the first speaker. He spoke French. His
somewhat singsong tone was not well suited to the French accent, but the
emphasis and the enthusiasm of the address atoned for that. His theme
was “The Truth.” Björnson wants to see truth injected into
politics—politics should become ethical. Of course every self-respecting
“practical politician” will smile indulgently at that idea. After
leaving the table, the guests, four hundred in number, scattered through
the many adjoining rooms. Here appeared a troop of young people in neat
black clothes and white caps—I took them for students, but they were
artisans—and sang Norwegian and German part songs. Björnson addressed
them and they themselves expressed words of thanks to all the men and
women present who were working for peace, that most important of all
advantages for the laboring man.
While we were drinking our coffee, I had at last a long talk with
Björnson. I can forgive him for not calling upon me, for he has not a
moment of rest. He is regarded as a universal counselor. Young poets
bring him their manuscripts; young women aspirants to a theatrical
career play their heroine rôles before him; and he is incapable of
refusing any one. Speaking of the artisans who had just been singing, he
told me that in his country this class took more interest than the
higher strata of society, in intellectual things. “I was recognized by
them,” he said, “much earlier than by the so-called intelligent class.”
“And isn’t it true,” I asked, “that the peasants here are very advanced?
I hear that there are no illiterate among them.”
“Oh, the peasants,” cried Björnson, “they are the foundation of our
kingdom; they are its pillars.”
We made the return journey from Norway in Bloch’s company, though indeed
only as far as Berlin. There our paths diverged, Bloch going to Warsaw
and we to Vienna and Harmannsdorf.
Here sad news and joyous news awaited us.
My Aunt Büschel, seventy-nine years old, whom I was in the habit of
visiting every week at Eggenburg near by, to talk with her about old
times, about Elvira, and about my mother,—had peacefully passed away
during our absence. She had a short illness, and was cared for by my
relatives. With her death the last link that connected me with the days
of my youth was broken.
The joyous event was a betrothal. On the day after our return the whole
family from the neighboring Stockern drove over to Harmannsdorf
accompanied by a young cousin, Baron Johann Baptist Moser. All wore
mysterious looks as they whispered together and put on such strange
expressions! When we were gathered together at lunch, and dessert was
served, my brother-in-law Richard suddenly rose and, portentously
clearing his throat, said,—
“My dear friends, I hereby inform you that yesterday evening my dear
daughter Margarete and my dear nephew Moser became engaged.”
Universal jubilation, and I myself felt the tears of joy coming into my
eyes, for I had long cherished the desire that these dearly beloved
young folks, who were so admirably suited to each other, should strike
up a match, and so the news brought keen delight to me.
I had no lack of work to do. The interrupted Hague diary had to be
finished; likewise the reports for my periodical. This, by the way, was
to cease publication at the end of the year and to be absorbed by the
_Friedenswarte_, edited by A. H. Fried, whose regular collaborator I am
up to the present time.
One day I received several copies of the _Budapester Tagblatt_
containing an excellent article by Count Albert Apponyi, who gave in it
a very favorable report regarding the Hague Conference, and made the
suggestion for a press league, to be associated with the
Interparliamentary Union. I thanked the count for sending me the papers
and praised the idea. In answer I received the following letter:
Eberhard, August 28, 1899
My dear Baroness:
In thanking you for your friendly letter I must observe that, though I
certainly estimate at its full value the submission of my lucubrations
to your very competent criticism, the thought of burdening you with
several copies of the _Budapester Tagblatt_ was entirely due to the
editors of that paper. Had it been my doings it would have been
inexcusably presumptuous.
It rejoices me that the thoughts that I wrote down meet with your
approval. The optimism which I display is, however, rather a tactical
maneuver than actual conviction. The great powers at The Hague were
less than lukewarm, and I am not sure that their assent to The Hague
conventions—especially in the case of Germany and Austria-Hungary—will
be given. The rulers do not want the thing to succeed; they do not
want war, indeed, but every institution in which they can detect any
limitation of their absolute power (to do either good or ill) is
instinctively repugnant to them.
Meantime, we in Hungary—where, after the beneficent parliamentary
revolution of this winter, we are perhaps on the way to recuperation
(but I repeat the word “perhaps”)—will do our best to bring our
monarchy, through constitutional methods of pressure, into the right
course. My position for this end has become somewhat better, and I
will certainly make the most of it. I shall also endeavor to form the
press league mentioned in my article. It is intended to form a
connecting link between the Interparliamentary Union and the people.
As for the rest, only a kind Providence can make anything good out of
such wretched material.
With sincere respect,
Your wholly devoted
Albert Apponyi