"It is settled then," continued the War Lord. "On your part, bigger and
faster boats than the English; on my part, I promise to advise you of
the date of the outbreak of hostilities long enough beforehand to save
your vessels for the Fatherland. Even if circumstances decree their
internment _en masse_, Germany will be the gainer in the end, when both
our navy and our merchant marine remain unbroken."
Ballin was retreating backwards toward the door, when the War Lord
recalled him. "I am dickering with Wilhelmina about Curacao for a
coaling station, and"--banteringly--"if you could stir up war between
the Netherlands and some other colonial power I would be very much
obliged. We got the coaling station in the Red Sea through our pro-Boer
sympathies. Curacao would make an excellent _aperitif_ after getting
over Dutch troubles."
"The United States would object."
"Of course, but there are some twenty-six millions of Germans in
America, every mother's son of them fighting-mad for me--part of my
invisible army and almost as important as the other. The Germans in
America have an immense vote-swaying power; they control Washington to a
large extent, and some of the State Legislatures absolutely. And, as
you know, each American State is sovereign. Suppose I would threaten to
decree secession for the States between New York and Seattle, taking in
New York, Ohio, Illinois, Wisconsin, Indiana, Missouri, etc. etc.,
where would Washington be? Would Roosevelt risk Civil War because I
want a place to coal my ships not exactly five thousand miles from the
Panama Canal?
"I tell you, my men controlling a large portion of the American Press
won't let him. And, by the way, Ballin, the Hapag, the Lloyd, Woermann,
etc., will have to give more extensive support to my German Press in
America than is done now. _Die Staats Zeitungs_, the _Herolds_, and
whatever-they-call-them can't live on wind. Ridder is a rapacious cuss
and a Jesuit besides; but my Washington bureau tells me that his
complaints are not altogether groundless. As my Germans become more and
more Americanised, the German papers' circulations are dwindling, and
likewise slumps the advertising. For this we must make up. German
shipping and the industries engaged in international trade must support
the German Press in New York, Chicago, Milwaukee, St. Louis, Kansas City
and the minor towns, as my Government supports the _Norddeutsche
Allgemeine_ and Krupp his _Neueste Nachrichten_.
"By the way," he added, grabbing a "Bismarck pencil" suspended from a
wire and scribbling on his calendar block, "I will have to tell Krupp,
Loewe and the rest of the ammunition hogs to loosen up on those German
papers in America. Podbielski shall see them about it. Of course he is
no stockholder, but his dear Emma is." (The War Lord referred to the
scandals connecting a German general with subserviency to army purveyors
to the extent of awarding contracts exclusively to firms in which he was
financially interested.)
"It might serve the Hapag and '_meine Wenigkeit_' (literally my
inferiority, meaning your humble servant) if specifically informed
respecting the invisible army Your Majesty was graciously pleased to
allude to," bowed Herr Ballin.
"In the States," explained the War Lord, "my volunteers are mostly
full-fledged citizens--universal suffrage, otherwise a stench in my
nostrils, is working overtime for the German Cause there--but in the
rest of the world merchant-princes, manufacturers, trade agents and
skilled workmen do yeoman duty for me and the Fatherland. Of course we
have a lot of adherents in England--'naturalised' they call them. Funny
term! I hold that it would be most unnatural for a German to embrace
another nationality, especially the English."
"Whenever you hear of troubles in Ireland, put it down to my invisible
army. That same army has before this fomented labour troubles in
Russia, and it never sleeps in France, particularly not in Paris."
And, lowering his voice, the War Lord talked of invisible forces
building concrete gun-platforms along the French and Belgian
frontiers--"foundations for manufacturing plants," he added
sarcastically.
"Of course I am doing my bit in other respects too," he concluded. "I
have fed some of these German editors from the States at my own table,
and ---- bad manners they had too; and I have baited them with minor
orders in plenty. If Ridder behaves himself I will make him a 'von'
some day, and that German Congressman from Missouri--I forget his
name--will get a five-pronged coronet too. But to return to Curacao. If
I get a foothold there, I will have both French and English for
neighbours--excellent chances for picking a quarrel if desirable."
The War Lord put a finger down vigorously on the Wedell--and Adjutant
von Moltke buttons. The nephew of the great Field Marshal responded
almost instantly. "I want Wedell."
"Count Wedell is in waiting, Your Majesty." Even while the equerry
spoke, the sign language of the telephone announced that the Chief was
at the Schloss.
"That Jew of yours will be useful," said Wilhelm approvingly. "He will
obey orders like Krupp, but remember His Majesty can't do all the
reconnoitring himself. I tell you for the hundredth time that your
department is negligent with respect to England. You must get Ballin to
help you."
Count Wedell winced. "If I have had the misfortune to fall short of
Your Majesty's expectations----" he stuttered.
"'My resignation is, etc.' The old Wedell complaint; I know what you
want to say. Only recently I stopped your cousin's litany by remarking:
'I thought you liked your salary and perquisites.' None of that
nonsense, please. Listen: I have played sleuth for you at Portsmouth; I
know the dockyards there like my pocket. The Solent and Cowes are open
books to my General Staff, owing to descriptive matter and diagrams I
have furnished, and what I did not tell Tirpitz about Gibraltar is not
worth knowing. Really," he added, "English _naivete_ is astonishing,
particularly in the face of the Press campaign. With the most widely
circulated and best informed newspapers constantly reminding them that
my whole naval policy is directed against Great Britain, English
officials--military, naval and civilian--extend me every opportunity for
the study of old England's defence and weakness. Thanks to my
inspection, my General Staff is as well informed about the Gibraltar
signal station as the first English Sea Lord--it is to laugh.
"And how they opened their ports to me: Leith, Port Victoria, Folkestone
were as free to the _Hohenzollern_ as Piccadilly Circus.
"The next time I visit Edward I will drive my yacht right up above
Tilbury. See if I don't."
"Poor devil of a pilot," mocked Count Wedell.
"Now, don't credit the English War Office with more circumspection than
the average German schoolboy has," guffawed Wilhelm; "the pilot will
probably get the V.C., and I promise Tirpitz some astounding information
for, while on the bridge, I will pump the pilot dry--absolutely dry.
"I really worked hard for your department," concluded Wilhelm; "now show
that you can follow my lead."
"Perhaps Majesty favours establishment of semaphores on the British
coast on a larger scale."
"After we prohibited the keeping of carrier pigeons in the neighbourhood
of German naval stations? No, _Herr Graf_, I am not dispensing meal
tickets to penny-a-liners just now. Think of something new, something
Ballin can do for us."
"I submit that cheap excursions to English harbours and seaside resorts,
arranged by the Hamburg line during the holiday season----"
"I take it all back," cried Wilhelm. "You are earning your salary,
Wedell. Capital idea. The Naval Intelligence Service shall subscribe
for a hundred berths, sending its most expert photographers,
topographers, surveyors, fortification experts and naval men. In mufti,
of course, and you will have men on board to spot fools that betray
their official connections. Tell Ballin I want some of his largest
steamers for this service, so that my army and my navy men get well lost
in the crowd. The larger the crowd, the more men of military age and
reservists, of course."
"Your Majesty thinks of everything."
"I have to," said the War Lord. "And make a note of it. Amateur
photography is to be encouraged in the schools, the press, in society.
No use sending crowds of Germans to England unless they bring back
plenty of photographic evidence relating to the enemy coast and land
defences. As a special inducement, Ballin shall have a dark-room on
board and develop films free of charge. In that way we will get
duplicates of everything."
"I beg to submit," said Wedell, "there is still another aspect to Your
Majesty's enlightened prospect."
"Fire away!"
"The legend of impossible invasion will suffer a collapse with everybody
observing that the supposed impregnability of Dover is all moonshine."
"Not half bad," said the War Lord. "Those tourists will make splendid
_commis voyageurs_ for our army of invasion."
"_Agents provocateurs_!"
Wilhelm shrugged impatiently. "Fouche's business! Of course my War
Office will furnish the dates for the excursions. Sounds ridiculous,
but England's little vest-pocket army indulges in annual manoeuvres like
my own, and it would be curious if some valuable information could not
be gleaned from a boat full of military and semi-military sightseers.
Of course the English naval manoeuvres are much more important.
Sometimes a simple tourist sees things for which the official and
unofficial representatives of my Admiralty and your own department,
Wedell, search in vain."
The discussion continued in the same vein for another half-hour, the War
Lord impressing upon Wedell the absolute necessity of increased
espionage in England. "Thirty-six years ago," said Wilhelm in
conclusion, "Bismarck had over thirty thousand spies and sympathisers in
France doing his work. Have we got as many in England to-day? How many
are on the pay-rolls of English railways, of Scotch railways and,
particularly, of Irish railways? You can't tell off-hand? Report within
three days. And don't forget the proofs, if you please. I likewise
want to know how many of your men are detailed to attack British
arsenals, harbours, wireless stations and so forth in the event of war.
Whatever their number, duplicate, nay, treble it, and don't be sparing
with promises. If we invade England, we won't get out in a hurry, tell
them, and there will be plenty of pickings for our friends while we are
on the Insular side of the Channel.
"Remind them that our army of occupation remained in France two years
and five months after peace had been signed. I propose to enjoy English
hospitality even a while longer, and the people that serve us 'before
and aft' can make enough money while we are in England to evacuate with
us and live on their interests in the Fatherland after Threadneedle
Street has paid the last instalment. Think of it! Serve the War Lord
and feather one's own nest at the same time."
Wilhelm had been sitting down uncommonly long. Indeed he had been
almost confidential with his pal in the conspiracy international. He
now rose, squared his shoulders and assumed his favourite character of
the graven image.
"I don't like Krupp's ignorance of things English. Shall make a few
trips into England, and see what there is to be seen," he said in a tone
of command. He continued: "I want a talk from Court Chaplain Dryander
on the chosen people, not on the Jews--on the term. Got impressed with
it while talking to Ballin. Germans the chosen people! Sounds good!"
"Dryander will report at eleven to-morrow morning. Order (Professor)
Delbrueck to be here at the same time. I will see him after the
sky-pilot has gone. Parsons are such romancers; it's well to digest
their palaver to the accompaniment of historic facts."
"One thing more." The War Lord grabbed a pencil and marked asafoetida
on half a dozen pages of his daily calendar. "I want to have a
conference with chemists by and by."
*CHAPTER XXIX*
*SOME MORE SECRET HISTORY*
Deluding Rathenau--Callous Experiments--What Lord Palmerston
Said--The Kaiser's Aims
"What is this I hear?" demanded the War Lord, having scantily
acknowledged Herr Krupp von Bohlen's low obeisance. "I want you to
understand once and for all that your wife is my ward, and that any
offence to her spells disrespect to Majesty."
The Overlord of the Krupp works was confused with surprise. He
attempted to make answer, but did not get further than a formal: "May it
please Your Majesty."
"I have no further commands for you at the moment," he was cut short.
"Wait in the Adjutant's room until called."
"A.E.G.," cried Wilhelm to the adjutant of the House Marshal's office,
opening the door for Krupp.
"My dear Rathenau," he said, when an old man, stout and stockily built,
with a philanthropic chin and a complexion denoting indifferent health,
walked in. "My dear Rathenau, being credited with seeing ahead, perhaps
you'll tell me what this means?" And he pointed to half a dozen entries
topping his daily calendar.
"Asafoetida," read the electrical end of the Jewish triumvirate of
self-made men--Ballin, Thyssen, Rathenau. "Does Majesty want me to
create a corner in the reverse of eau de Cologne?"
"Yes and no," said Wilhelm. "But like Ziethen did before Frederick, sit
down. And so you may not fall asleep like the great cavalry leader when
visiting the king in his old age, I will tell you a story."
He retailed the yarn about the meeting between Franz Ferdinand and
Cardinal Schlauch, the Secret Service man in the bed, and what No. 103
wished he had placed under the bed before the interview.
"It gave me an idea," he continued, "an idea, I confess, strengthened at
Essen. Why not bottle the noxious gases set free in the furnaces, and
let them loose on the enemy?"
"What, kill them wholesale?" cried Rathenau, moving uneasily in his
chair. Philanthropy is one of his hobbies, and underhanded methods go
against his grain. The War Lord knows this, and clapped the silencer on
his savage bluntness.
"Kill them? No. Wholesale? No, too. There is to be no gale of these
gases--just a breeze to knock out, or knock over, offensive or
defensive. I figure this way: Maybe the enemy, entrenched, has to be
dislodged at any price to gain some given point. We can't get at them
with the ordinary style of weapon; they won't come out even to be
hand-grenaded. In such cases, I hold it good strategy to smoke them
out."
"Asphyxiating gas," mumbled Rathenau half to himself.
"A good name--something suspending animation--suspending it while we
take the coveted place. We won't lose a man, and the enemy is mulcted
out of prisoners only, for all placed _hors de combat_ by our chemicals
will be cared for by the Red Cross."
"Majesty does not intend to have the gases absolutely poisonous?"
inquired Rathenau.
"Now, would I have asked you, whose humanity all Berlin admires, if I
did?" cried the War Lord; "if I was signing death warrants, I would not
have applied to you, but to Krupp. He is a natural born butcher, I tell
you. Krupp devises means to destroy life with the gusto of an American
barkeeper mixing cocktails. They blamed Nero for saying he wished the
Roman people had but one head that he might knock it off. You should
see Krupp gloat over my new howitzers."
"And those noxious gases, the workings of which Your Majesty observed at
Essen, do not inflict permanent injury?"
"In the majority of cases black coffee suffices to make the men fit for
work again; in a minor number of cases mild palliatives are required. I
advised free distribution of milk for those suffering from a weak
stomach. Hypodermic injections are resorted to once or twice a week.
So you see our 'gassing' will be quite harmless."
When the President and Owner of the "A.E.G." (German for General
Electric Company) still refused to wax enthusiastic, the War Lord tried
a new tag. "It's the charitableness--I almost said the Christianity--of
the thing that mainly attracts me," he lied. "You remember Valentina's
husband in _The Huguenots_. He was murdered during St. Bartholomew's
night, at the side of my ancestor, Admiral Coligny. The Comte de Nevars
had been asked a little while before to join in the massacre of the
Protestants, but refused, pleading that his family contained a long list
of warriors, but not a single assassin. So am I trying to curtail
killing by the proposed new method of attack. Prisoners, yes; the more
the merrier; but deaths and wounds as few as possible."
"Hydrochlorine, with the accent on the hydro, might possibly serve Your
Majesty," said Rathenau, after thinking hard for a few seconds.
"Very well, write it down," ordered the War Lord. "Besides Krupp, who
can furnish this chemical?"
"The Ruhr Chemical Works and the Ludwigshafen Aniline Factory might."
Rathenau was dismissed with scant thanks, and Krupp was readmitted to
listen to the substance of Wilhelm's conference with the President of
the A.E.G., the latter's philanthropic objections being carefully marked
as the War Lord's own, while the diluting advised was dismissed as
namby-pamby.
Krupp, after listening respectfully, said: "May it please Your Majesty,
I have had a little experience with asphyxiating gas. We used it to
destroy a number of consumptive cows, thinking it the more humane
method. They were to be benumbed before slaughter.
"God forbid that Bertha, who is very much attached to the animals on the
estate, ever learns what really did happen. As for myself, I had an
inkling, but where experience is to be gained charity must take a back
seat."
"Well said," commented the War Lord. "Go on!"
"We tethered the cattle in an enclosure, their heads over a furrow from
which the poison gas was rising. It had a sharp, bitter smell, and as
it caught the animals' throat they gasped and choked. Some attempted to
breathe deeply and could not, and all went giddy, it seemed, but did not
lose consciousness.
"The chief vet. had predicted that the intense irritation of the
bronchial mucous membrane would fill the tubes with a fluid which the
animals could not expel, and this is what did happen.
"We let them suffer for experience's sake, then gave them salted water.
This cleared their lungs and forestalled complete suffocation."
"You have gathered the technical information from the medical report?"
asked the War Lord.
"Partly from that, partly from observation," replied Krupp. "When the
vets. stated that the animals were on the point of slow
suffocation--drowning, we killed them by the quicker method. But one cow
was allowed to die by poison gas, to give necessary clues to the medical
men. They stated, after investigation, that the gas had had a corrosive
action, destroying the mucosa."
"Very interesting," said the War Lord, who had seemingly forgotten about
his pretended motives of philanthropy. "Your chief vet. shall report in
full to my Ministry of Cult. I shall order that from now on condemned
animals shall be delivered to the concerns manufacturing this kind of
gas for scientific experiments."
The red disc on the War Lord's desk went up. Wilhelm looked at the
clock. "Delbrueck." Then, turning to Krupp: "You shall wait and hear
what he has to say."
The successor of Professor Treitschke was bringing the War Lord an essay
on "Germany as the Land of the Chosen People," a sort of
theological-political tract, suggested by Wilhelm and partly formulated
by Court Chaplain Dryander. Its present form had been decided on by
Professors Harnack, Schiemann, Meyer and the editor of the Prussian
Annals (_Preussische Jahrbuecher Magazin_).
"Typed," said the War Lord approvingly. "I wish you would instil that
modern idea into those of your colleagues, who annoy me by their
handwriting. The worse it is, the more scientific they deem it. I will
read it presently. Now tell Krupp how you view the situation with
regard to England."
"The United Kingdom they call it," sneered Delbrueck, the most
loquacious of "that damned band of professors," to quote Palmerston.
"Well, there will be one less in the quartette when war comes--Ireland.
The Green Isle will join us when the first shot is fired by a German
battery. Further, there is every reason to believe that the title of
Emperor of India will be as obsolete as that of King of Jerusalem before
hostilities are under way a month, while New Zealand, Australia, South
Africa and Canada will certainly not miss the chance for gaining
independence."
Herr Krupp looked at His Majesty in quite bewildered fashion. Evidently
he had not reckoned on such far-reaching eventualities, but the War Lord
had.
"Miss their chance for independence? Not likely! Go on, Delbrueck.
Tell him about the Boers."
"I needn't assure you, Herr Krupp, on which side the defeated of 1901
will fight. It is self-evident," said Delbrueck.
"And Egypt?" ventured Herr Krupp, to show his patriotism.
"German industry and discipline shall fructify the land of the Pharaohs
like the Nile itself. We will drive out the English of course," cried
the War Lord.
"The arming of India will be a tremendous task," he continued. "As you
know, I am sending the Crown Prince to India, and the military experts
accompanying him will furnish all missing links."
"May I suggest that His Imperial Highness sound the Indian Princes,"
interpolated Professor Delbrueck.
"All that is provided for," retorted the War Lord.
But Delbrueck would not be discouraged in his optimisms. "In addition,"
he went on, "Krupp guns will bark forth the declaration of independence
by South Africa, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, and the rest of the
British dominions, territories and Island Kingdoms. Quite an
undertaking, eh?"
At this point the War Lord came to Delbrueck's relief. "Finally there
is that beggar Turkey. You mustn't be hard on Abdul Hamid, Krupp. Bad
pay, of course, but he never hesitates about pulling chestnuts out of
the fire for me, and I like him. Besides, since we pay China a subsidy
of a million per year for getting ready to wallop Nicholas, why not
treat Constantinople with liberality?"
Krupp bowed and promised to talk the matter over with his board of
directors, but the War Lord scarcely listened. He had deigned to
express a wish--woe to the person, or persons, not interpreting the wish
as an All Highest command.
He turned to the professor. "Delbrueck," he said, "I had a letter from
Francis Joseph. He has set his heart on Bosnia, and wants me to support
him. Is there any way of arguing with Russia from the historic point of
view?"
"I will look into the matter for Your Majesty at once."
"Very well. If you do not succeed, Russia will get a glimpse of my
shining armour, which is the best argument, after all."
"Now you know my friends, official and otherwise," concluded Wilhelm,
again addressing Krupp; "about my aims I have talked to you before.
Always bear in mind that I am German Emperor--an expansive title
relating to all lands and peoples of the Germanic family, no matter what
name they may go under.
"We must have German Holland and German Belgium, German Tyrol and German
Switzerland, and, of course, German Austria. As you know, I have a good
title to the whole of North-Eastern France, too, but I will waive that
for the Continental Channel coast."
"Your Majesty must have Trieste," said Delbrueck.
"I must have and mean to have all the naval outlets and outposts
necessary to German trade and my protection," said Wilhelm in most
Olympian style.
*CHAPTER XXX*
*BROWBEATING THE WAR LADY*
A Letter from Count Metternich--Scaring the Kaiser--Bertha
Offends the War Lord--Using the Secret Code--For "The Day"--An
Awful Oath--The Kaiser Wins
"I can almost forgive Metternich for allowing himself to be bested by
Sir Frank, for that last yarn he sent me is not to be sneezed at.
Bertha and Krupp are on the point of a momentous quarrel. Some pacifist
idiot--a woman, probably--put a plea in her ear about 'trade in murder,'
'profit in man-killing,' and that sort of thing, and the baby did the
rest.
"She sits on the Huegel, befouling the machinery for conquest-making
below her windows.
"'Some of the ordnance we are sending to China to-day may kill my unborn
child,'" she writes, "and things have come to such a pass that Krupp had
to instruct the coachman to avoid certain roads where Bertha's carriage
might meet with ammunition and other transports.
"And ever since, all day long and half the night, she accuses Krupp of
using her money to forge guns and bullets that, by and by, may seek the
heart or limbs of his own son.
"'Don't I know when war will break out?' he retorted angrily the other
day. 'Long before that our boy will be on a journey round the world.'
Think of a Prussian officer forced to indulge in such damnable stuff!"
cried the War Lord.
"I submit, Your Majesty, that one has to temporise with women,
especially with a young mother," suggested Prince Buelow.
"Silly sentimentalities," sneered the War Lord; "I want none of them.
Bertha has to be broken of her freak--broken," he repeated, gritting his
teeth. "Why," he continued, "she even refuses to take joy in her
charities now, because, she says, 'money made out of armaments is
tainted and no good can come from it.'
"If I allow that sort of thing to go on there will be a
_Kladderadatsch_" (fatal _denouement_), "one fine day. She may attempt
to wrest from Krupp the power of attorney under which he acts as my
agent, and there is such an abomination as divorce, you know--oh, _mille
pardons_, you do know. And, worse luck, my courts deal in it as well as
the Vatican." (The War Lord referred to Princess Buelow, whose first
marriage to Count von Donhoff was dissolved by the Holy See in 1881.)
Buelow reddened under the insult. "I am wholly unsuited to interfere in
other people's family affairs," he blurted. Then, frightened at losing
his temper, added: "I beg Your Majesty's pardon."
"My ward's affairs are my own," declared the War Lord haughtily. "I'll
settle with Bertha myself, make her eat out of my hand--take my word for
it--and this will help."
He showed the Chancellor a long, handwritten letter, with the imprint of
Carlton House Terrace, marked "Private and Confidential," and asked him
to read it aloud. The address was that of the German Embassy at the
Court of St. James's, and Count Wolff von Metternich, His Majesty's
Ambassador, was the correspondent. He had been permanently in London
since 1901, previously serving his diplomatic apprenticeship there, off
and on, between 1885 and 1890. His naive complaint in the Joseph
Chamberlain affair has been noted. As he was the War Lord's confidant
while in the service of the Berlin Foreign Office, Count Metternich
could not have been altogether without knowledge of Wilhelm's
treacherous conduct in and toward England. The War Lord claimed British
hospitality time and again to combine espionage with all too successful
attempts to hoodwink the English Sovereign and his statesmen about his
real intention toward Great Britain. King Edward was not too blind,
though, to what was going on; he is credited with the remark that the
War Lord was not a gentleman.
"Important, if true," said Prince Buelow, handing back the letter.
"Just as important if it _isn't_ true--for my purposes," quoth Wilhelm.
He walked up and down the room for several minutes, mumbling things,
then suddenly confronted the Chancellor: "A belated answer to my letter
to Tweedmouth--can it be that?"
Prince Buelow was surprised beyond words. The War Lord referring to his
clumsy attempt (in the early part of the year 1908) to throw dust in the
eyes of a British Minister of State in regard to his responsibilities,
by an act of unprecedented condescension!
Wilhelm's personal letter to the First Sea Lord had caused considerable
excitement in Germany, but there had been no discussion of it at the
Chancellery. The subject was too ticklish for that--particularly its
aftermath, with its references to "foolish stratagems," "unintelligent
attempt to deceive," "refusal to be perturbed by such little incidents,"
and last, but not least, England's avowed determination to thwart
Wilhelm's plans to be supreme upon the sea, since "there is nothing for
Great Britain between foreign sea supremacy and ruin."
And those "wretched _Temps_ articles" (Majesty's description was
stronger), admonishing England not to put faith in the War Lord's
protestations, but strengthen her navy and double her army.
The War Lord seemed to divine what was going through his Chancellor's
mind. He changed the subject. "Edward and Nicki have been talking it
over; they are afraid of me, despite boasted Anglo-Russian and
Anglo-French propositions, and want to give me a good scare!" he cried.
"But I will show them that I don't care a fig for their Entente. The
Mediterranean trip is off. My purple standard shall fly at Cowes, and
Wedell shall arrange for a little trip into France. Yes, France," he
insisted. "I have long wished for a view of the strategical passes of
the Vosges, and you must persuade Fallieres to invite me to see the
_Schlucht_.[#] Less than an hour's motor trip from the frontier, you
know."
[#] The proposed motor tour across the French frontier was actually
"arranged," as suggested by the War Lord, and was billed to come off in
the first or second week of September (1908). However, at the last
moment the War Lord showed the white feather, having been informed that
he would never leave French soil alive, a number of patriots having
vowed to kill him. Previous to this there had been much irritation in
France and talk of "impudence," "cynicism," and "espionage."
"I will leave no stone unturned to execute Your Majesty's commands,"
said Prince Buelow, indulging in a profound bow to hide his face and
avoid betraying an astonishment bordering on perplexity.
"Wonder if Edward can be persuaded to meet me in the Solent," mused the
War Lord. "I would love to tell him about my trip to Heligoland, our
coastal defences there, and preparations for aerial invasion. Of
course, the details will be Greek to Uncle, since he knows less of
military matters than my two-year-old fillies at Trakehnen, but my tale
may possibly induce him to be more careful in matters of his _amours
impropre_: Russia and France. Don't you think so, Buelow?"
"The Quadruple Alliance, Your Majesty? I can only repeat the conviction
previously expressed--that it is entirely pacific, a defensive measure
absolutely. As to King Edward, his political strategy is certainly
superior to his military talents, but I was under the impression that he
introduced Your Majesty to the Maxim gun."
"He happened to be my guest on the day set for the trial of that
incomparable man-killer, and I took him to Lichterfelde to show him how
I would annihilate his vest-pocket army if he wasn't as careful as his
Mamma. Strange to say, he seemed to be quite _au fait_. I had bet
Moltke a dozen _Echte_ that Uncle couldn't distinguish a Nordenfeldt or
Gardner from the old-time Gatling; but he did. 'Confound your
impudence,' I said to Moltke, when I paid the price; but Helmuth
convinced me that I got off dirt cheap. The Maxim gun, he persuaded me,
must have undreamt of possibilities if even Edward recognises its
importance as a war machine.
"So the empty _echte_-box taught me that every copper invested in Maxim
guns means one dead--an enemy--hence, that I can't have enough Maxims.
I want fifty, no, a hundred thousand."
Wilhelm smiled sardonically as he added: "I told Krupp he would lose his
job unless he improves on Maxim and gets up a machine-gun as light as
our army rifle and as easily fired. But that reminds me. I will go to
Essen to-night to impress Bertha with her patriotic duties. You'll keep
Krupp here."
"Frau Krupp," said Wilhelm, as he retired with the War Lady to the
library of Villa Huegel.
"Bertha," she pleaded.
"Bertha is treating her Uncle Majesty very badly."
"May it please Your Majesty to say in which way I have offended?"
"In every way, in the surest way, in the most traitorous way!" cried the
War Lord, trying to stab the floor with the point of his sheathed
sword--a pitiable sight, since his poor left hand was powerless to move.
"You are thinking of diverting the works from their sacred purpose: The
Fatherland's defence."
Wilhelm struck a sentimental pose. "That's my reward for the love and
care I bestowed on Frederick's child," he half monologued. "I educated
her, exalted her above all women in her station of life, treated her
like a child of my own, like my own sons and daughter. I have bestowed
as much thought on Essen as on my army and navy; made her business and
fortune the grandest of their kind; selected for her loving husband a
man of surpassing capacities and gave her wedding the _eclat_ of a royal
function. Emperors, sultans and kings have bedizened her with
courtesies and high decorations for my sake--the legend of 'the richest
girl' has melted into 'the happiest woman in the world'--_semper
fidelis_, and Madame, satiated and ungrateful, turns me the cold
shoulder."
"Oh, Uncle Majesty, how can you say such things?"
"Bertha," cried the War Lord, laying his hand on her knee, "if you were
not Frederick's daughter, were not rich beyond the dreams of avarice, I
would ask: How much--how much did England pay you for deserting me and
the Fatherland?"
Frau Krupp slipped from the chair, and on her knees implored her
terrifying visitor to show mercy.
"The King of Prussia never pardons traitors."
The word awakened Frau Krupp's self-respect. "Traitor!" she cried; "I
would be a traitor to humanity if I continued making faggots to set the
world afire."
The War Lord broke into wild laughter. "So that's the melody," he
shouted, "echoes of the gutter Press in London, Paris, Petersburg,
Tokyo! It's well you mentioned it, Frau Krupp; I know now exactly how
we stand, you and I, the benefactor and the unworthy object of my
magnanimity."
Bertha lay on the silken rug sobbing her heart out, but for Wilhelm the
quivering form of the girl for whom he professed a father's love was
mere air.
Sitting down at the great desk, he shouted: "I command" into the
speaking-tube sacred to his All Highest person, and, Adjutant Baron
Dommes responding, he ordered: "Prepare for a confidential message to
the Chancellor by secret code. Have the line cleared. You will attend
to the wire in person."
He grabbed a block of paper and began to write, tearing off sheet after
sheet with partially finished sentences, rejecting his own words as fast
as he wrote them, and talking to himself in tones considerably above a
stage whisper.
"Would suit the Austrian Baroness to turn Krupps into an ironmongery for
household and farm goods," he sneered savagely, "but the mollycoddles
shall know presently that they haven't got a silly girl to deal with."
He paused, giving a furtive look to the prostrate Bertha; then began
scribbling again and reading his hasty scrawl to himself:
"Bethmann-Hollweg shall consult with Kuentzel and Harnier about
condemnation proceedings against---- Never mind, I will give names by
'phone after receipt of message is acknowledged. Must be kept a profound
State secret. Anyone mentioning it even in the presence of his
secretary will be dismissed _cum infamia_. Remember, the best legal
talent only." (The persons named were high officials in the Ministry of
Justice.)
Excitement would not let Wilhelm be seated long, and he began pacing the
floor, dragging his sword.
"Preposterous!" he alternately mumbled or hissed. "A mere slut foiling
my plans, interfering with my life's work! Stop making implements of
war: the great Alexander held up on the road to India by a blacksmith!"
He laughed hysterically, lunging forth to both sides with his clenched
fist as if striking at imaginary enemies.
"But the maw of death will be glutted with or without your assistance,
Frau Krupp--glutted to nausea!" he cried, pausing before the trembling
girl. "There will be an accumulation of anguish such as the world has
never witnessed, despite thee, ingrate that thou art."
The War Lady raised her hand and looked at him with ghastly,
tear-stained eyes.
"Don't--oh, don't!" she breathed.
"The more you plead the quicker the catastrophe will come! You mean to
keep me in a state of unreadiness, but my enemies are even less
ready--time to strike!"
"Even Your Majesty can't make war without pretext," wailed Bertha.
"I can't, eh? I can't? And there are no pretexts, either? What about
Morocco? If I seize the smallest harbour of that ---- country, isn't
that tantamount to invading Algiers? I tell you in such event France
and Great Britain must fight whether they like or not. And their blood
upon your head, Bertha, the blood of France and Great Britain and
Russia, and of the German people, too."
He affected to shudder. "A thing of horror such as even Dante could not
have conceived!" he exclaimed pathetically.
"And I the cause?" faltered Bertha.
"Who else, since you are driving me to war! Can I, dare I wait until Le
Creusot, Woolwich and the Putiloffs have finished their preparations? I
be ---- if I will!" he added rudely, "so I propose to seize the Krupp
plant and manufacture my own war material until 'The Day' and after."
The War Lady, trembling with amazement, half raised herself from the
floor and, balancing on her right arm, stared wildly.
"Seize my plant?" she gasped; but the War Lord paid no attention.
Kicking his sword aside, he once more seized pencil and writing-block.
"_Cum infamia_," he read, as if for Bertha's benefit. Then his pencil
flew rapidly over the paper: "The plant to be taken over by the act of
the Sovereign, Gwinner and Emil Rathenau to look to the financial end,
Dernburg and Thyssen to examine the business end." (Arthur von Gwinner,
German railway magnate; August Thyssen, mine owner and merchant prince.)
He was grabbing the speaking-tube, when Bertha took hold of his
shoulder.
"Uncle Majesty," she whispered softly.
"If you please, Frau Krupp, no familiarities," barked the War Lord.
"You are interfering in business of State."
"Listen, Uncle," pleaded Bertha.
"No, _you_ listen to your King," said the War Lord coaxingly, "that is,
if you will be once more my good little girl, and not presume to mix in
my affairs, in affairs of the State."
"I am at Your Majesty's mercy," sobbed Bertha.
"You ought to have thought of that before."
"Forgive me, forgive me, Uncle Majesty."
"On one condition: that never again you lend ear to outsiders in matters
affecting the Krupp works, whatever may be their character or claims to
recognition."
"I promise, Uncle Majesty."
The War Lord leaned back in his chair and motioned to Bertha to sit
down.
"The most terrible War Office secret has just been communicated to me by
Metternich," he began, "and I would be unworthy of the trust imposed
upon me by the Almighty if I did not use every preventive to undo this
new dreadful peril to the Fatherland. Prevention spells: 'Increase of
armaments on land and sea and, indeed, above the sea.' That's why I am
forced to seize the Krupp works if you dare oppose my will----"
"But I don't, Uncle Majesty. I swear I don't!" cried Bertha.
The War Lord sunk his penetrating eyes into Bertha's as if trying to
read the War Lady's very thoughts. "Ring for the baby," he said; and
when the child was brought in he whispered to her to dismiss the nurse.
"Swear on the life of your child that you will not attempt to wrest the
control of the Krupp works from my agent, or agents, and that your
factories and shipyards shall ever be at my exclusive disposal, your
Uncle Majesty to control the output and mode of manufacture absolutely,
and decide on all measures deemed essential for the success of the works
and the armament and defence of the Fatherland."
For a few moments the War Lady stared at the speaker, then allowed him
to take her right hand and place it on the baby's head.
"I swear," she said in a hardly audible voice.
"On the life of your child," demanded Wilhelm. There was a scarcely
concealed threat in his tones.
"Mercy, Uncle Majesty!"
"Mercy begins at home. There are thirty thousand families depending
upon you--all told, about one hundred and fifty thousand people are
living in Essen and suburbs. Do you want to see them all wiped off the
face of the earth?"
"I don't follow, Your Majesty."
"I asked a question; I am not after argument. Once more I ask: Would you
rather see Essen, my fortress of Cologne, Duesseldorf, the whole Rhine
and Ruhr valleys blasted out of existence than say these eight words: 'I
swear on the life of my child'?"
"I can't conceive the meaning of Your Majesty's words; but I love my
people, and I would much rather die myself than have them suffer on my
account," said the War Lady. She kissed the child, and, with tears
streaming from her eyes, pronounced the fatal words.
"In the name of the Fatherland I thank you," said Wilhelm, touching
Bertha's forehead with white lips cold as ice. Then, striking a
theatrical pose, he added: "_Si Krupp nobiscum, quis contra nos_?" (If
Krupp is with us, who can stand against us?) He rang the bell.
"Dommes," he whispered into the 'phone, adding a word of the secret
code. Presently there was a knock at the door. The War Lord himself
opened it. Dommes was standing at attention, naked sword in hand. A few
more words in the secret code. The door closed, and Dommes began
patrolling the corridor.
*CHAPTER XXXI*
*A GREAT STATE SECRET*
The Great Dundonald Plan--The Menace to Essen--Who Holds the
Secret?--An Infallible Plan--England Will Have to Pay--The World
Will be Mine
A minute passed while the War Lord listened for the steady tread of his
epauletted sentinel on the marble floor and seemed to count the steps.
If Dommes had strayed an inch upon the purple runner which he was
ordered to avoid, Wilhelm would have rushed out and abused him for a
spy. Not until satisfied that the possibility of being overheard was out
of the question, he told of the things weighing upon his mind, or of
those, rather, that he wanted to weigh on Bertha's mind.
"You heard of Lord Dundonald?" he asked abruptly.
"The father of Baron Cochrane, who announced the death of Gordon and the
fall of Khartoum," replied Bertha. "Gustav met him at Brooks's, I
believe."
"The desert rider doesn't interest us now," retorted Wilhelm, "though I
would love to have him on my staff--just the man to lead my African
forces and to help in the Boer uprising. I am talking of Thomas
Cochrane, the tenth Earl. Surely you learned about his good work
against Napoleon and his exploits in South American waters? For a time
he was admiral of the Chilian Fleet, re-entering the British naval
service in the last years of William IV.'s reign."
"I recollect now," said Bertha.
"Well, the two elder Dundonalds were scientists, like your father and
grandfather. Indeed, Dundonald _grand-pere_ made several epoch-making
chemical discoveries--I suspect Heydebrand is stealing his ideas on
every hand" (Dr. Ernst von Heydebrand, leader of the Agrarian party and
a husbandman of note), "for Earl Archie enlarged on the relations
between agriculture and chemistry even during the French Revolution; but
Thomas Dundonald, his son, the same who defeated the Corsican at sea,
was, or rather is, the man who threatens the Fatherland, even though
buried these fifty years and more. Industry is indebted to him for
discoveries in the line of compressed air, improvements in engines and
propellers, but his _chef d'oeuvre_ was a war machine.
"I tell you, Bertha, it looms up larger and larger as the struggle that
is sure to come approaches--a perpetual threat menacing the stability of
my Empire.
"The enemy--I mean the British War Office--has wrapt that thing of
horror in darkest mystery ever since its inception a hundred years ago,
and Haldane is as secretive about it as the Prince Regent was in the
early decades of the nineteenth century.
"During my every visit to England I have tried to find out from princes,
statesmen and military men on the Dundonald plan, only to meet with
patriotic objections in one place, with bluff in another. Lord Roberts
went so far as to say there was no such thing. But King Edward, when
Prince of Wales, contradicted Roberts, without suspecting, of course,
that I had quizzed the Field Marshal. He had seen the document, he said;
it rested in a secret drawer of the War Minister's safe. 'No other War
Office official has access to it,' he told me, 'and it's the only copy
in existence.'
"His word notwithstanding, there was a possibility, of course, that the
plans of the great war machine might be concealed somewhere about Lord
Dundonald's town residence in Portman Square, or in the archives of
Gwyrch Castle, his seat in Wales, and Wedell has spent ten thousands
upon ten thousands, bribing confidential servants, librarians and
secretaries and what not? I had half made up my mind to approach the
present Earl, when Metternich, by the merest accident, came upon some of
the information sought after.
"Bertha," continued Wilhelm, "though we don't know its exact nature yet,
the last doubt as to its limitless efficacy as a destroyer is
removed--hence, the famous secret of the London War Office constitutes a
peril to the German Empire that only war preparations on the largest
possible scale can hope to check."
He dropped into melodramatic style, _tutoyering_ Bertha: "Dost
understand now, child, why I contemplated taking over the Krupp works
for the State in case you failed your Uncle Majesty? Such would have
been my duty, my sacred duty."
"I understand now, understand fully, and I humbly beg Your Majesty's
pardon."
"It is granted," said the War Lord, with the air of a tyrant annulling a
death sentence. "And now you want to know about the menace Dundonald's
plan holds out to Essen, of course. But for your fuller understanding
we must first go into the history of the case."
The War Lord lit a cigarette and settled comfortably into his throne
chair. "Some two years before the battle of Leipzig," he began, "Lord
Dundonald first startled the British War Office by a device for
annihilating all fortified places and armies of Europe, should Bonaparte
succeed in uniting them against England. However, his plan was so
terrible, the Secretary for War refused to take the responsibility of
either rejecting or accepting it, and persuaded the Regent to appoint a
committee for its investigation _en camera_. The Duke of York, Lord
Keith, Lord Exmouth and the two Congreves were chosen, and their verdict
was: 'Infallible, irresistible, but too inhuman for consideration.' And
at that time, Bertha, Englishmen and Englishwomen were hanged for
stealing a sheep or an ell of cotton. So you may be sure that Lord
Dundonald's war machine is no more burdened with sentimentality than
'old Fritz' yonder.
"The terrible plan was reluctantly pigeon-holed, and, as you know,
Prussia, not the English, smashed Napoleon.
"In 1817 Lord Dundonald went to South America, having previously pledged
his word of honour that he would not use his invention for the benefit
of foreigners, and that, on the contrary, it should remain for ever at
the disposal of England's War Office. Later, his lordship confessed
that he had been tempted time and again to employ his invention, but
refrained from self-respect.
"After 1832 he was back in London, and from then on until his death in
1860 he submitted his terrible plan to each succeeding War Minister, and
each of these gentlemen declared the method capable of realisation with
the awful results predicted by the author, yet too savage for adoption
by a Christian government.
"Followed the Crimean War, with its initial anxieties, particularly to
my grandmother. To her Lord Dundonald, then quite an old man, submitted
his plan anew, which he said would shorten the war; but Queen Victoria
hadn't the heart to listen to the inhuman proposal. However, Lord
Palmerston had the invention officially investigated, appointing the
most progressive scientists of the day for the task. As expected, they
upheld Lord Dundonald's claims in every particular, but the inhumanity
clause attached forbade its acceptance under a ruler like Queen
Victoria, and once more the plan was shelved.
"Of course," added the War Lord, "they were fighting against Russia
then. If it had been Germany, that blackguard Palmerston would have
hanged the committee that declared against its acceptance.
"That happened sixty years ago," he went on, "and the British War Office
has kept Dundonald's terrible plan in reserve ever since. Nor has its
exact nature leaked out, though time and again one or other of the
Powers have offered millions for the betrayal of the secret. Now, if I
had been War Lord when Lord Dundonald was travelling in Germany--but
that's neither here nor there," he added gloomily.
Wilhelm walked to the empty fireplace and stared at the lifeless logs,
while a sinister and cruel expression intensified the brutality of his
features, "You heard of Frederick the Great stealing the dancer La
Barbarina from the Venetians, bodily snatching her out of the
ambassador's coach? So would I have kidnapped Lord Dundonald, 70
Wilhelmstrasse" (the palace of the British Embassy) "notwithstanding.
"I would have clapped him into Spandau, and kept him at a diet of bread
and water until he revealed his secret in every detail--yes, and put to
the test, too. And if starvation hadn't fetched him round--why, we have
a lot of that Nuremberg _bric-a-brac_--thumb-screws, Spanish boots and
toys of that sort--hidden away in some of the old castles and
prisons----" True to his habit of manual illustration, he described
some of the workings of the torture machinery by attacking the
atmosphere.
"But, as said, it's neither here nor there," he resumed finally. "Back
to our muttons, then, _mon amie_. This is the story which Metternich
obtained from two sources: Whitehall and Gwyrch Castle.
"To-day Dundonald's terrible plan plays a more decisive part in
England's foreign policy than ever, being regarded as the supreme
reserve force, a reserve force such as the world has never dreamt of.
Its point is against Germany, as a matter of course, but I doubt not
that Asquith would use it upon his own allies if ever they turned
against him. Hence, France, Russia, even Japan, dare not act
independently of Great Britain lest she employ Dundonald's terrible
secret.
"As to its nature, according to certain vague information deduced from
some of the late Lord Thomas's manuscript notes found at the Welsh
castle, the hope that in the meantime it had been superseded by modern
explosives, and that its main principle, or allied principles, were no
longer the last cry in the line of destruction, has proved absolutely
untenable. His menacing method is as infallible and irresistible to-day
as it was a hundred years ago; all your dynamiters, nitro-glyceriners,
lydditers and the rest of them notwithstanding, Bertha."
The War Lord struck a tragic pose: "To sum up, in concocting this crime
against humanity the English lord degraded his intellect beneath the
meanest animal. Your poor child," he murmured, "like my fortresses and
towns on the coast of the North Sea or Baltic, so Essen and the peaceful
Ruhr valley may be swallowed up in the whirlwind of his enormities."
"I shall defend my boy with my last breath!" cried Bertha, jumping to
her feet, "him and all my people. Tell me, Uncle Majesty, why is Essen
especially menaced?"
"Its proximity to the frontier is our most vulnerable point. Pray, and
pray hard, Bertha, that Wilhelmina remains our friend. If she joined
our enemies, Lord Dundonald's devilish invention might be brought to
your very doors, through the Zuyder Zee and Waal, and Germany's armoury,
the Krupp works, obliterated; the Fatherland itself could be wiped off
the map.
"I hope to prevent this by throwing an iron wall across Belgium and
Northern France," he continued, tracing a line on the wall-map, while
Bertha faltered out:
"And this English menace----"
"How it works, you mean? With the resistless energy of Etna in eruption
and the iron grip of the flow of ashes that buried Pompeii and
Herculaneum. Only here will be no escape by water; but for my
protecting arm you will all be suffocated in bed, or standing or going,
as it were."
The War Lord stepped to the window and looked through the telescope
fixed on a stand. "As far as the eye travels," he monologued, "one vast
ghastly cemetery. Every house and cottage a grave, this villa a
mausoleum."
"Save us!" shrieked Bertha. "Your Majesty alone can save us!"
"I will," said the War Lord, "my Imperial word: they shall not harm a
hair on your child's head. With the Krupps working according to my
plans, I will save Essen and my ships and my fortresses, too, for danger
anticipated is half overcome; and when 'The Day' arrives I will move so
quickly Whitehall won't have time to put the Scottish nobleman's
surprise into practice. Listen, Bertha:
"The Japs disembarked eight thousand men at Sakhalin in a single hour,
and whatever these brown devils did my army will have to go them one
better. I will fall on Belgium, and, as I told Krupp, hack my way to
Calais. By that time, maybe, you will have completed the howitzer that,
planted at Calais, will make Dover Castle tumble into the dust. If you
haven't, my air fleet alone must pull off the job. After closing the
mouth of the Thames----"
"Sheerness to be blockaded?"
"By mines, Zeppelin, admiral. And before they have recovered from their
surprise I will have three hundred and fifty thousand men on the way to
Threadneedle Street. About the same time King George and Mr. Asquith,
or whoever is in power, will get a wireless to the effect that, to the
indemnity England will have to pay, a thousand million pounds will be
added if there is an attempt to interrupt the march of my armies by
using the Dundonald plan, or if same is used anywhere or at any time
against my possessions. My admonition will be in time, for to launch an
undertaking so gigantic as to baffle even the most enterprising of your
own lieutenants, Bertha, will take the slow English months and months;
the swiftness of my movements, then, can be relied upon to forestall the
evil intended to make our own warlike invention pale into
insignificance."
"But the English fleet, Your Majesty?"
"Obsolete, old iron so far as the Channel is concerned. If I have
enough airships, I won't bother about George's Dreadnoughts at all, for
my nine army corps can be shipped from Calais in half an hour's time.
"As you know, my latest Zep. carries a hundred persons, and I have been
talking it over with your Board and the Count: there are no technical
obstacles against the construction of airships four times the size;
airships can expand even more readily than howitzers.
"And the dream of my little girl need not be abandoned, either," added
the War Lord in softer tones, "for the telegram to King George will
further stipulate that the Dundonald secret must be turned over to me,
and that I will have a hundred hostages to guarantee my absolute
monopoly of this war machine--all the living war ministers and the heads
of the families of the war ministers for the last hundred years, with a
sprinkling of dukes, princes, high statesmen and low politicians to
boot. Lady Warwick has sometimes wondered what the English nobility is
good for--I'll show her.
"The Dundonald secret in my exclusive keeping," concluded Wilhelm, "you
can devote the Krupp plant in all future to the ideals of the pacifists;
for the world, awed into submission and silence lest I make a vast
Pompeii out of a rebel country--the world will be mine!"
With the War Lady's astonished eyes following him as he strode the
length and breadth of the room, the War Lord chuckled to himself. "Lord
Dundonald's crude notes, found by my agents, have put me on the track of
the secret; anyhow, we are now experimenting in Charlottenburg. My
experts call it a liquid perambulant fire, a hundred per cent. more
efficacious than my asphyxiating gas for clearing a road through a human
wall, as each cylinder is guaranteed to lay low man, beast and technical
obstacle for a space of a hundred and more square feet. What do you say
to that, Bertha?"
"You are wonderful, Uncle Majesty," said Bertha.
"Invincible, arm in arm with the War Lady," declaimed Wilhelm.
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