THE GERMAN TREATMENT OF OFFICIALS
GERMAN VIOLENCE
German violence, once it had been let loose by the declaration of war,
forthwith became lost to restraint of every kind. It was not merely in
pitched battles and amongst soldiers that it was displayed, but behind
the lines, and in matters commonly supposed to be subject to diplomatic
regulations. The official representatives of foreign countries had to
suffer the consequences. By their conduct towards these distinguished
people, German ministers and officials by their deliberate action proved
to the civilised world that Germany is the land of cruelty no less
than of insolence and rudeness. The ambassadors, consuls, etc., of the
powers on which Germany had just declared war were exposed to infamous
treatment, perhaps, in its way, worse than the acts of cruelty committed
by the heads of the army and by the soldiers. Even people of royal blood,
members of the Imperial family of Russia, were the victims of these
outbursts of violence.
In making this statement we must not exonerate any section of the
German people. The members of the Government, no less than officials,
are responsible, for none of the latter were censured, and this
responsibility must be traced back to the Emperor. On the other hand,
the German people, without distinction of class, deliberately associated
themselves with these outbursts.
HOW THE GERMAN AUTHORITIES BEHAVED TO THE DOWAGER EMPRESS OF RUSSIA
The Dowager Empress of Russia, Marie Feodorovna, mother of the Emperor of
Russia and sister of Queen Alexandra of England, was travelling through
Germany on the day after the declaration of war. She had just left
England and was going back to Russia.
On the order of the German authorities—
(1) Her Majesty was stopped at Berlin, where she was forbidden
to continue her journey to Petrograd to meet her family.
(2) She was given the choice of going to Copenhagen or of
returning to London.
The Dowager Empress had to obey. She went to Copenhagen and thence
continued her journey.
HOW THE GERMAN AUTHORITIES BEHAVED TO THE GRAND DUKE CONSTANTIN OF RUSSIA
AND HIS FAMILY
The Grand Duke Constantin Constantinovitch, grandson of Nicholas I, known
as a patron of arts and letters, who was at the baths of Wildungen,
in Germany, with his family, when war broke out, was stopped two days
after the Empress. At first the Germans thought of detaining him and
making him prisoner, as they had done with Admiral Skridlof, formerly
Admiral-in-Chief of the Russian Black Sea fleet, and several Russian
generals who likewise happened to be in German territory. But they
merely shut him up with his family in a carriage of a frontier train.
In this carriage they made a point of putting some soldiers who were
travelling pipe in mouth, and forbade any one to open the windows. At
different stages in the journey the authorities were guilty of repeated
acts of rudeness to the Prince, and even went so far as to jeer at his
suite. When the Grand Duchess expressed a wish to send a telegram to the
Empress of Germany, who had been her friend from childhood, she found
that she was arrogantly refused.
From the station at Gumbinnen up to the Russian frontier, that is to say
for a distance of three leagues, the Grand Duke and his family had to
complete the journey on foot.
HOW THE GERMANS BEHAVED TO THE AMBASSADOR OF FRANCE AT BERLIN
The German authorities behaved in similar fashion to M. Jules Cambon, the
Ambassador of France at Berlin. When, armed with his passports, he asked
to leave by way of Holland, the minister refused his request and sent him
word by M. de Lancken, a former adviser to the German Embassy at Paris,
that he would have to return to France through Austria.
“We should not recommend you,” he said, “to go through Denmark. The
sea may not be safe…” M. Cambon then asked for himself and his staff a
safe-conduct which would guarantee his journey through Austria, where his
official position would be no protection to him. This safe-conduct was
promised him. On the following morning this order was countermanded,
and M. Cambon was informed that he would be brought back again to the
Danish frontier. Whether the sea would be safe or not was no longer taken
into consideration. His departure took place the same day. It took no
less than twenty-four hours to cross the 400 kilometres which separate
Berlin from Denmark. When the train got near the frontier all the blinds
were lowered, and soldiers armed with revolvers beset the doors of each
compartment. The passengers were warned that these soldiers would fire if
they left the carriage, if they put their hands in their pockets, or if
they attempted to touch their luggage.
When they were close to the frontier, a military official, Commandant
de Rheinhaben, came, shamefacedly enough, and asked M. Cambon for the
cost of the train by which he had travelled from Berlin. The ambassador
offered a cheque on the Bleichroeder Bank, which was declined. The total
expense, which amounted to 3600 marks, was demanded in gold. The Embassy
staff was able to scrape together this sum. The passengers then continued
their journey, with the addition to their party of a curious-looking
person who, the Commandant said, was a Scandinavian merchant. M. Cambon
and his companions met this curious merchant again at Copenhagen and in
Norway at the time of their embarkation for England.
Moreover, as they were going through the Kiel Canal, the Germans went so
far as to claim the right to search the ambassador’s luggage. And though,
through the interposition of an official, he was spared this humiliation,
soldiers forced themselves into the carriages and stood on guard facing
the passengers, with their hands on the trigger of their revolvers;
even women and children did not escape this kind of treatment and were
threatened with death if they made the slightest movement.
HOW THE GERMAN AUTHORITIES BEHAVED TO OTHER MEMBERS OF THE DIPLOMATIC
CORPS
The French Minister at Munich and his family were notified on the 3rd
August, at 6 p.m., that they must take train the following morning for
Constance, under the supervision of an officer and a Bavarian official.
The Minister asked for an extension of time, which was refused in
accordance with instructions which he was told had been received from
Berlin. On the other hand, the owners of the premises used as offices and
residences by the legation demanded, under threat of distress, immediate
payment for the current quarter.
M. de Nélidof, the Russian Envoy at the Vatican, who was returning to
Russia through Germany with his wife, was kept prisoner for two days in
the Munich railway station, where he and Mme. de Nélidof had to submit to
the worst possible treatment at the hands of soldiers.
The Russian Minister at Dresden was ordered to leave at nine hours’
notice. With great difficulty he had the time extended to twenty-four
hours. He and his staff were put into a carriage with blinds drawn, and
he was kept under observation by two police officials all the way to
Munich.
BRUTAL BEHAVIOUR, WHICH WAS PERMITTED BY THE GERMAN POLICE, OF THE MOB,
TO THE DIPLOMATIC REPRESENTATIVES OF FOREIGN COUNTRIES
We cannot be surprised that the mob shows little self-control in
circumstances so critical as a declaration of war. But what cannot be
permitted is that mob violence should be let loose, and not be forbidden
by the authorities, upon the representatives of foreign powers, whose
mission under such circumstances automatically comes to an end. In
Germany, on certain occasions, the authorities were actually accomplices
of the mob. This was the case as regards the treatment of the French and
Russian diplomatic body as they were leaving Berlin.
When the French diplomatic body was passing through Neumunster, near
Kiel, violent demonstrations were made by a party of ladies of the German
Red Cross. These ladies crowded round the carriage in which were the
staff of the French Embassy, shouting and shaking their fists. As a glass
of water was being brought to a little girl of three years old, who was
travelling with the Embassy, these ladies took hold of it and threw it
to the ground. In some cases the behaviour of the crowd was so shameful
that Commandant de Rheinhaben, who had been instructed to travel with the
Embassy, said that in all his life he had never had so painful a duty to
perform.
The demonstrations against the Russian diplomatic body began on the 27th
July, according to a subsequent statement of M. de Sverbeef, Russian
Ambassador to Berlin, to one of the editors of _Novoïé Vrémia_, 29th
August, 1914. A howling mob, he said, filled all the streets round the
Embassy, shouting insults to the Russians. This lasted till two o’clock
in the morning. These demonstrations began again the following day, but,
curious to relate, were at first aimed at Russia and not at France. At
the beginning of the war it was supposed at Berlin that France would not
participate in the struggle.
“I left Berlin,” continued the ambassador, “with the staff of the Embassy
on Sunday, 2nd August, at noon. A mob had gathered in front of the
Embassy in the morning. To avoid unpleasantness, the gate had been shut.
It was only opened at the moment when we were getting into a motor. I
went in front in the motor of the United States Ambassador. The crowd did
not attack me and I heard hardly any hostile cries. On the other hand,
the mob indulged in murderous attacks on the other motors.
“Although at Berlin the fact of these murderous attacks on the members
of the Russian Embassy is denied, they are nevertheless authentic. The
mob wounded not only the men, but also the ladies. It was not merely the
proletariat who gave themselves up to these acts of violence, but people
who appeared to be quite of high position participated.”
Moreover, several official representatives of Russia were arrested in the
street, but were set at liberty again when their papers had been examined.
Crapovitzki, the Chamberlain, formerly Secretary-in-Chief of the Russian
Embassy at Berlin, was struck on the head by blows so violent that his
blood saturated two handkerchiefs, and he had to put himself under
medical care at Copenhagen.
Princess Belosselska, an American citizen, was struck on the back, on the
shoulder, and on the head, by a well-clad man with a white beard, and
some people spat in her face.
Several other people were ill-treated, especially Countess Litke, wife
of the Russian Minister at Stuttgart; Mme. Todleben, wife of the Russian
Minister at Carlsruhe; Mmes. Plantine and Raevska; MM. Diacre and
Chapelle of the Embassy at Berlin, and M. Lopaiko. The children were
stowed away on the floor of the motors to protect them from blows.
HOW THE GERMAN AUTHORITIES BEHAVED TO MEMBERS OF THE CONSULAR SERVICE
Members of the Russian, French and English consular service in Germany
were to have still less favour shown to them than ambassadors and
ministers. The Consul-General of Russia at Leipzig was unexpectedly
summoned to the police station. He was there allowed thirty-five minutes
to go to the station and take the train. His vice-consul, who was of a
lower rank, was allowed only ten minutes, and his pockets were searched
to boot.
The Consul-General of France at Frankfurt got orders to go on the 4th
August, and he immediately obeyed. The German authorities conducted him
to the Belgian frontier, then on the way they changed their minds and
conducted him to Constance. When he reached the station at Offensburg
he was arrested by an officer. With the consular staff he remained shut
up for five hours in the waiting-room, closely watched. Then he was
conducted, with about one hundred French people, men, women and children,
who had left Frankfurt at the same time as their consul-general, to
Donaueschingen. There they were all led under escort in a pelting rain
to the other end of the town into an open station, where their only
opportunity of rest was upon some bundles of straw. On the next morning
it was announced that the French, with their wives and children, would be
detained by the local authorities. A protest by the consul-general was
ineffective. The consul and his staff were unable to resume their journey
to Constance until 5 o’clock.
On the 5th August the German authorities ordered the consuls of France,
Russia and England to leave Danzig within an hour.
The three consuls and their families were brought to Bentheim, on the
Dutch frontier, amid insults and ill-treatment and without being allowed
to take any food. On the 8th August, at Bentheim, the three consuls
were separated from their wives and families, and shut up in a prison
cell, with the sons of the English consul and M. Vassel, of the French
Consulate at Prague.
They were treated like criminals: they had bread and water for food,
straw mattresses and a stone floor for bed; they were compelled to clean
their cells, to take a regular walk of half an hour within the prison
precincts, in the company of men who had been convicted at common law.
The French consul, M. Michel, being ill, asked for a doctor, but was
unable to get one. The superintendent of the prison thought he had
done all that was required by giving him some castor oil. This regimen
lasted several days. Finally, on the 13th August, the English consul
was released and met again his wife and his children, who, unknown to
him, had been shut up in another cell. The other consuls were not set at
liberty until some days afterwards.
M. de France de Tersant, Vice-Consul of France at Frankfurt on the Main,
took thirty-three hours to traverse the 300 kilometres between Frankfurt
and the frontier. He underwent the same annoyances: tedious confinement
in railway stations, perpetual change of route; he was compelled to
travel with blinds drawn and windows shut in a stifling heat, in the
company of an armed official.
The wife of this consul, Mme. de France de Tersant, who left Germany on
the 31st July—that is, before the declaration of war, was arrested at
Metz and her luggage confiscated. In vain she made application to the
military authorities. They refused to receive it and threatened to keep
her in custody. However, she obtained permission to continue her journey
by horse carriage to Novéant. As she was leaving the soldiers hooted her.
At Novéant the driver refused to bring her any further. Then she had to
go on foot as far as Pagny-on-the-Moselle, which is the first French
village. A peasant at Novéant lent her a wheelbarrow, in which she could
put her young child. The peasant consented to push the wheelbarrow.
M. Damier, Russian consul at Frankfurt, was brought by force from his
house to a statue of Germania which he was compelled to salute. A howling
mob kicked him and struck him with their fists. M. Alberic Néton,
Consul-General of France at Düsseldorf, was ordered on the 2nd August
by the Chief of Police to leave the town at once. Two officials were
stationed before his door with orders not to leave it. On the next day,
on his way to the consulate, he could not give them the slip. All the day
they kept near him whether he went on foot or rode.
After interminable negotiations with regard to his departure, the
Consul-General of France finally left Düsseldorf on the 5th August,
bringing with him only a small portmanteau. The destination of the train
was the Dutch frontier (Roermont). But at the first station, which is
Neuss, an officer in a uniform trimmed with lace came and opened the
compartment in which were the consul-general and many other passengers,
and informed them that the Dutch line was cut and that they would have to
go to Cologne and then to Switzerland.
He had to go to Cologne in a train full of soldiers and in a third-class
carriage. During the whole journey the soldiers never ceased to make
insulting remarks about France.
At Cologne, the consul-general’s journey was interrupted by the military
authorities. He underwent a regular search and had to undress to allow
these people to search every bit of his clothing. As he complained of
having to submit to such treatment, the German officer said to him, “You
will see many other people in the same case as yourself.”
And, in fact, when the search was completed he was brought, carefully
escorted, to an hotel of the lowest class, an _annexe_ of the Prefecture
of Police, where police officers searched his luggage. M. Néton was
kept there three days under police supervision. He was forbidden to
communicate with any one outside or to read the newspapers.
“During the third night of our detention,” says the consul-general in
his official report of the 10th August, “on Friday, 7th August, a little
before midnight, there was a violent knocking at the door of my room.
‘Everybody get up,’ cried a voice; ‘you will be off to Holland in ten
minutes.’ Everybody dressed in great haste. We were compelled to get into
two military motors, which brought us with all speed to the station.
There we were brought to a train which was standing ready, and pushed
into a carriage where we were locked in and all the blinds lowered. The
signal for departure was given, but none of us knew where we were going.
“At six o’clock in the morning the train stopped. We had just passed
Clèves and we were a short distance from the Dutch frontier. To get us
over the remaining thirty kilometres the mayor of the place, who had been
notified of our arrival, offered to have us driven across in a light trap.
“When we got down from the carriage he demanded of us 14 marks, _i.e._
about 18 francs.
“We were at Vyler, the last Prussian station from which the boundary,
marking the frontier, could be seen; we thought we were at the end of our
troubles, but we had reckoned without the station officer. ‘Your papers,’
said he. Each of us showed what the official who searched us at Cologne
had left us. ‘Not in order,’ he declared. ‘I shall have to report the
matter. In the meantime you must be searched,’ and for a second time, men
and women, we were obliged to undress completely and to undergo a more
minute search than one could possibly imagine. They even looked between
our toes. The brims of our hats were turned back. The insoles of our
shoes were lifted up. My watch was opened and the glass of it broken.
“Once more I protested. Police officers, revolver in belt and rifle in
hand, surrounded me and commanded me to keep silent. The official came
towards me. My last papers and documents were seized and even my private
letters were taken…
“The official took leave of me, saying, ‘I shall return all this to you
at Düsseldorf when you come back.’
“After a few more minutes waiting we were allowed to cross the frontier.
We were free. On my arrival in Holland I noticed that the soldiers who
had searched me had taken 90 marks in gold which happened to be in my
pocket.”
M. René d’Hennezel, French Vice-Consul at Mannheim, left his post under
similar circumstances. At Immendigen a non-commissioned officer and four
men burst into his carriage. He examined M. d’Hennezel’s passports and
those of M. Lancial, diplomatic attaché, had their luggage carefully
searched, and passed on to them the word to follow him to the captain. On
the platform the crowd shouted angrily and the non-commissioned officer
sneered at them.
The captain questioned them fiercely and declared that their passports
were not in order. He prevented them leaving and had them brought back to
the station-master’s office, where a fresh examination of their luggage
was made in his presence. Finally, he consented to let them travel by
Constance, saying, “Above all things, mind what you are about, and take
very good care that I hear no complaint of you, or you will immediately
be shot. You must get into the luggage van.”
M. Armez, French Consul at Stuttgart, during the last days of his stay
received all his correspondence “unsealed as a military safeguard.”
On the 3rd August he was ordered to leave his post within three hours,
and to bring only hand luggage. He was stopped at the first station as a
spy, and threatened with death by the other passengers, in the presence
of a menacing crowd. It was only after many anxieties of every kind and
not without having received several blows and even having been wounded,
that he succeeded in reaching Constance in Swiss territory.