Ways of War and Peace
by
Delia Austrian
Stanhope-Dodge Publishing Company
U. S. A.
Larchmont, N. Y.
1914
Copyright 1914
by
DELIA AUSTRIAN
THIS BOOK IS
DEDICATED
TO MY MOTHER
With Whom I Have Enjoyed Much of the Beauty and Charm
of Europe and Also, Unfortunately, Have Seen the
Horrors and Sorrows of War
CONTENTS
PAGE
Foreword 9
Students' Hostel in Paris 21
Paris, Past and Present 28
How Would You Like to Be a Refugee? 35
What Mobilization Means 79
The Price of War and the Price of Peace 96
Some Questions Answered as to the Causes of the War 105
What the World-War Will Mean to Womankind 114
Ask Your American Friends How It Feels to Be Without
Money 125
What the Queen of Holland Is Doing to Preserve Peace 138
What Royal Women Are Doing While Their Husbands
Are at War 144
What Will the Royal Children Do if Their Parents Are
Put Out of Business? 151
William II at Close Range 157
King George V, Head of the Allies 171
Two Russian Cities 182
Christmas Without a Santa Claus 196
FOREWORD
As I advance in years I look upon life as a good deal of a paradox; at
times it seems to be a mass of contradictions of love and hate, of
friendship and enmity, of truths and falsehoods, of war and peace. In
the same flash of time countries are throttling others; other nations
are straining themselves not only to soften the hardships created by an
international war, but to help feed, care for and dry the tears made by
the havoc of slaughter.
A most striking instance of this statement happened a few days before
the outbreak of the war. Through a mutual friend, while in Bavaria, I
learned that Miss Anna Eckstein, an American woman, who has devoted her
life to the world's peace movement was visiting her home in Coburg
Saxe-Weimar. It was a short distance from where I was staying, and I
asked Miss Eckstein if she would come to me. The answer to my invitation
was that much as she would love to see me we should have to defer our
meeting to some other time. She was starting to make a tour of the Rhine
cities, where she was going to give important talks on the work that was
being done to encourage the world's peace. This would take most of her
time until the early fall, when she was going to a peace congress in
Vienna. She said that I might help her by forming two local centers in
Chicago for the signing of many petitions pledging ourselves for the
peace idea platform. I had not much more than read this letter and put
the petitions away for safekeeping when the word came that the great war
was declared.
Time and again during the storm and stress of war this incident appeared
as the greatest of paradoxes. Here was a young woman who has consecrated
her life, her talents, energy and friendships for the purpose of making
the idea of world peace more than a chimera. Her efforts have failed for
the time being, because monarchs and statesmen, goaded on by a foolish
idea for stronger empires and more possessions, had thrown their nations
against each other, resulting in the most cruel and disastrous upheaval
of modern times. Many of the world's nations are hurling their
tremendous armies with their siege-guns, bombs, mines, air-crafts,
submarines and navies at each other. Awful and tremendous are these
gigantic masses of destruction. What they accomplish or fail to
accomplish will be forgotten when the work of such women as Miss Anna
Eckstein and Baroness von Suttner are inscribed in glory.
It was merely by chance I had the pleasure of meeting these two
brilliant women at the time of the World's Peace Congress at The Hague.
Miss Eckstein had come as a delegate from America bringing petitions of
three million names, signed by American men and women, including many of
the foremost professors, students, writers, artists, capitalists and
workers in all lines of industry. Though born in Germany, she had come
to America because she realized that our country believes in peace more
than it does in war. For many years she worked entirely with the peace
movement in Boston. But she soon saw the need of educating the young
people to the ideals and principles of peace. She made a campaign of
this country, talking from pulpits and platforms on what the peace idea
and ideal would mean for society the world over.
This educational campaign was interrupted for a short time when Miss
Eckstein went to take the American petitions to The Hague. She attended
the round-table talks, afternoon teas and receptions, where time and
again she showed that war, besides being futile was the most reckless
extravagance of modern times. The cost of feeding and supporting a
soldier would keep a child in school; the cost of a siege-gun would pay
for the building of a school house, and the building of a battleship
would give a country a new university. She showed them time and again
that besides suffering, war meant the destruction of a nation's best
manhood. It is the strong and energetic and the brilliant minds that are
picked for soldiers. It is the weak and old men along with women and
children that usually survive to suffer the hardships and the heartaches
made possible by war. It was at one of these international receptions
that I had the pleasure of hearing Miss Eckstein express some such
ideas. She spoke of the work of The Hague Tribunal, and had such
confidence in the sincerity of the governments and their representatives
that she thought any question of vital importance might be settled there
rather than that rulers should enchain civilization and throw nations to
the dogs of war.
Later, through a foundation by Mr. Edwin Ginn, the publisher of Boston,
Miss Eckstein went to Europe for the purpose of preaching the gospel of
peace. She talked in schools, theatres and concert halls before large
audiences composed of school teachers, and school children, government
officials and working people. But her chief purpose was to educate the
school children in the larger, more wholesome ideas of peace. Some of
the most spacious and handsomest halls in Germany were put at her
disposal, and some of the most influential German officials presided at
her meetings. She was equally well received, and was welcomed with the
same enthusiasm in France, Italy, England and the North countries. She
hoped to carry this propaganda into Japan, India and Africa. At the same
time she was working to carry a petition of thirty million names, signed
in all parts of Europe and the United States, to The Hague. This
stupendous work was almost finished when the war broke out.
It was at The Hague that I first heard Bertha von Suttner, a well-known
Austrian writer and lecturer. She became world-famous as the author of
"Lay Down Your Arms," which won for her the Nobel Peace Prize. Her theme
at The Hague was "Combatting Dueling in Germany." She told of the way
the sons of officers and of the aristocracy at an early age were
instructed to look upon dueling as an important part of their education.
The more cuts, the more glory, for it was splendid experience for the
more terrible combat of war. A deep gash in a man's face made him better
looking, for it showed that he had plenty of courage. She was gathering
a strong petition signed by men and women of many nationalities against
this wicked pastime. It was a few years later, in Chicago, that I heard
Bertha von Suttner speak on the war in the Balkans. She explained that
it was only a small spark in a greater conflagration. It was being
patched up, not settled, and unless the United States used her
persuasive and moral influence these issues would burst forth in an
international conflagration. This prediction has become a reality,
though Baroness von Suttner did not live to see the day.
For many years America has had a large National Peace Society. Though it
originated in Boston its members were composed of men and women living
in all parts of the United States. Besides promulgating a philosophy of
peace, through congresses and pamphlets, its delegates have gone to all
the important European congresses. This organization was instrumental in
influencing the United States to intercede in the Russo-Japanese war; it
was instrumental in making The Hague Tribunal a well-organized body. It
inspired Carnegie to give to The Hague Congress a building as beautiful
as the ideals and purposes of the Congress were noble and just.
Many of our greatest American statesmen and scholars have combatted
peace measures and advocated stronger armies and navies. Other men of
prominence in all parties have striven to keep our country in friendly
relations with other powers, making treaties a worthy substitute for
strong, military forces.
On the other hand there are those who say that the only way to
safeguard our country is to have a navy and army in keeping with its
size and dignity. Our present army and navy mark us as a second-rate
power.
There are just as many thinking men and women who say that if a man
carries a loaded revolver it is bound to go off some day. It may be
justly used in self-defense, but it is more than likely to injure an
innocent person. Mr. Bryan's recommendation of treaties backed up by a
year of consideration when differences take place is considered a safer
method.
These are all steps in the right direction, but they must be extended if
this is to be the last war of any real importance that the world shall
ever see. All action is based on thought, and much of our wrong acting
of today is based on wrong thinking. There will always be different
nationalities, just as there are various languages, religions, political
parties and economic views. Only a fool can say that French is a better
language than Italian or German. Only the narrow-minded will say that
the Protestant religion is better than the Catholic or Jewish faiths.
The same is true of nations. The French, the English, and the German all
have their just place. The French lead the world in making certain
articles better than all other countries. In certain other articles we
must look for superiority to the Germans, while for others to England
and the United States. The time has come when national jealousies must
give place to internationalism. When the interests of all the countries
must be greater than the interest of any one country. There is an energy
and competition that is to be recognized as healthy and praiseworthy and
necessary, and there is a hectic energy based on envy that is
short-sighted. We are so interdependent these days that few things can
happen in one corner of the world but before night it is heralded to the
other end. A great war cannot be waged on one continent but many of its
bad effects are felt upon the others.
It is foolish to believe that the time will come when nations can carry
out their work and plans without having their differences. Nations
always have had and shall continue to have differences. But these shall
be settled as amicably as they are between individuals. Just as there
are courts and judges to listen to individual grievances, so there must
be an international court and judges to settle international disputes
and nations, like individuals, shall be forced to abide by their
decisions. For nations must be trained to understand that the interests
of humanity are greater than the interests of any one people. Until they
can accept this point of view, naturally they should be assisted by
international courts and by an international army and navy to enforce
the decisions of such a court. Work must be constructive, for there is
not enough money and natural resources in the world that so much shall
be squandered for any such extravagant pastime as war. There is a moral
force and conscience in the world, no less than in heaven. The noble,
unselfish work done by Bertha von Suttner and Anna Eckstein are
evidences of this fact. The Hague Tribunal is also an expression of the
same ideal. Internationalism is higher than nationalism, and must be the
platform of civilization. But to make peace work and internationalism
more than a byeword they must be backed by an international court with
its lawyers and judges and its decisions protected by an international
army and navy to enforce the decisions agreed upon by the different
nations and their representatives.
There were few men in America who did more for the peace work of this
country than Dr. Edward Everett Hale. As Edwin D. Mead says of him, "He
stood for citizenship, he stood for education, he stood for
international peace and friendship. We called him in the later years of
his life the Nestor of our peace cause in America." He made his church a
temple of that cause. He said there should be no modern church which did
not have among its regular standing committees a committee on
International Justice, and such a committee he founded in this church.
Baroness von Suttner and Baron d'Estournelles de Constant both occupied
his pulpit.
Dr. Hale worked extremely hard to organize a Boston committee on
International Justice.
Dr. Hale and Anna Eckstein were the two fountains of inspiration for
Edwin Ginn, of Boston. Life had taught him that real riches and power
only have value as they work for social uplift. He was sure of this
after he met Miss Eckstein and saw the great work and effort she was
expending to promote ideas of peace in the schools of this country and
abroad. She influenced him to set aside one million dollars; the income
of the money was to be used for this purpose. He was so impressed by her
work that he asked her to give all of her time to educating the teachers
and children in Europe as well as in our country in the ideas of peace.
Dr. Hale was his other great inspiration in all the great peace ideas.
His first address in behalf of the peace cause was made at Mohonk Lake,
at one of the Mohonk Conferences in International Arbitration, and there
his last address was made. His first address was made in 1901, although
Mr. Ginn was present at the Mohonk Conference as a listener in 1897 and
1899. In 1901 he gave his first address, and he confessed that Dr. Hale
had influenced him greatly in this work. In this talk he said that
modern wars are due to mutual distrust on the part of the nations and
great armaments. This distrust can only be removed by education and the
right kind of co-operation. The great menace is the enormous armaments.
The tremendous armies and monstrous navies have become far more a
provocation and danger than a defense. He told the people at the Mohonk
Conference: "We are confronted by the military class, the war power,
with unlimited resources of wealth and men, and we can never overcome
these obstacles except as we perfect a great organization to meet them.
It will not do to leave this work to be done by a few. An adequate
counteracting influence could not be exerted simply by men who could
give to the cause only shreds and patches of their time. We must make
this a well-organized crusade; there must be men devoted to the cause,
as Sumner, Garrison and Phillips were devoted to the cause of
anti-slavery: men who would give all their time to it. And the cause
must have a financial backing such as it had never had before. I should
like to see a fund of one million dollars established before we marshal
our forces. We spend hundreds of millions a year for war; can we not
afford to spend one million for peace?"
He soon afterward gave fifty thousand a year for this work, and a
million bequeathed for the cause at his death. He welcomed Norman
Angell's great work, called "The Great Illusion," which brought home to
the business men of the world the futility of war.
He was also a friend and admirer of Samuel B. Capen, the head of one of
the two chief Boston peace societies. Mr. Capen was president of the
Massachusetts Peace Society, and also a trustee of the World Foundation.
It was as a representative of the World Peace Foundation that Mr. Capen
went on his journey around the world.
Edwin D. Mead is also one of the great pioneers in America's earnest
effort that has worked incessantly for international peace. He was at
one of the peace congresses in Europe when the war broke out. He has
been one of the prime movers of the Boston Peace Society, and president
of the organization. He has attended most of the important congresses in
this country and in Europe. It was also through his efforts that a
branch of the National Peace Movement was founded in Chicago.
STUDENTS' HOSTEL IN PARIS
Among the many pleasant reminiscences of Paris, few are nearer to
Americans than the Students' Hostel. This home was founded by a number
of wealthy American and English women.
It was started because art students and pupils of music had long felt
the need of proper protection in Paris. This need was compelled for two
reasons--the good hotels in Paris are expensive and they do not give the
home life necessary to students in a foreign country.
To this end the Students' Hostel was founded. It began in a simple way,
and it took several years of experimenting to put it on a sure
foundation. The club was started as a lunchroom for American business
women. Here they came and had luncheons at reasonable prices and found a
place to rest. Before long the place was inadequate, and the Young
Women's Christian Association, aided by a number of wealthy American
women and a few English women, bought out this place with the idea of
enlarging it. They had no sooner taken the place over when they
discovered that the building was inadequate for their plans. They
searched Paris for the right sort of accommodations, and were about to
give up in despair when they found a large, roomy building in the
Boulevard St. Michael. They negotiated with the owner, and after
offering liberal inducements the building became their own. It was some
time before they were enabled to take possession of the place, as the
entire building had to be remodeled.
It was only by chance that I came upon this organization one day in
July, walking home from the Sorbonne. The name "Students' Hostel,"
written on a large poster placed at the gate, attracted my attention and
I rang the doorbell. The door was soon opened by a maid, who explained
to me that the "Students' Hostel" was a hotel for American and English
girls studying in Paris. I asked if I might speak to the Secretary, and
I was led up one flight of stairs to an attractive office. Miss Richards
welcomed me in a kindly voice, saying, "We are always glad to meet
American girls. I shall be pleased to explain to you the purpose of our
work. This is a hotel, not a charitable organization, though it was
founded through the aid of wealthy American and English women. We hope
to make this hotel self-supporting in a few years, though it could not
be accomplished in the beginning. We have more than a hundred girls
living here. The greater part are studying French in the Sorbonne,
though a few are devoting their time to the study of painting and music.
"Most of the girls who come here are delighted with our arrangements,
for they enjoy all of the independence of a hotel and the comforts and
the social life found in the home. They may come for the entire winter
or stay a week, as they like. All we demand are letters of introduction
from two people of influence and from the minister of the church which
they attend. Three dollars and fifty cents per week is the price set on
a room, though a girl may have more luxurious apartments if she wishes.
A dollar and a half more pays the weekly board, while we have spacious
bathrooms where baths may be had for ten cents. Every day at four
o'clock tea is served in the tea-house during the winter months, and in
the gardens when the weather permits. This is given without extra
charge.
"In order to make the Hostel as serviceable as possible to all, a fee of
one dollar a year is set as membership. This entitles a girl to the use
of the library, to take advantage of the French conversations held and
to attend all the weekly entertainments. There is no limitation put on
creed, excepting that the girls who live in the home are expected to
attend Sunday afternoon services held here and prayer-meeting once a
week. They pass their evenings as they think best--studying, reading,
listening to lectures, and enjoying splendid concerts given in our home
by well-known artists."
When this explanation was ended, I was shown through the home. The first
room entered was the dining-hall. The room was filled with many small
tables covered with snow-white linen and dainty china. A girl could not
have wished for more in her own home. Across the hall was a small room
with a comfortable lounge, called the rest-room, where girls can retire
to rest after meal hours, or when they come home from their day's study.
But the real rest-room is the library, furnished with plenty of lounges
and large easy-chairs. The bookcases contain more than five hundred
English and foreign books. Some of these were bought with money raised
by private entertainments. But the greater number were given through
donation parties by friends invited to come and spend the evening in the
Students' Hostel, some form of entertainment being prepared for them.
The price of admission was a book they had read and were willing to
donate to the library. The Secretary explained: "The first time we
ventured on one of these donation parties we questioned the results, but
our friends are so generous in supplying us with books that hardly a
winter goes by without our having one of these with results that have
far exceeded our expectations.
"Several nights in the week there are lectures given by well-known
writers and scientists; some of these are only free to the boarders of
the Hostel; to others, friends are invited. Weekly concerts are given.
The programs are made up by professionals and students of the Hostel who
are studying music. One evening a week and Thursday afternoon are set
aside for receptions, when the Secretary and the students receive their
friends.
"The second floor is given over to bedrooms. It would be difficult to
find more attractive bedrooms in any American College. The rooms are
large and well lighted, decorated with artistic wall paper and curtains
to match. One part of the room is filled with a couch, used as a place
of rest by day and a bed at night. The rest of the furnishings of the
rooms include student's table, a lamp and several comfortable chairs.
The remainder of the furnishing is done by the students themselves. Many
of the walls are hung with gay posters, banners, and photographs of
friends. Most of the girls have only one room, though a few who are
studying music find the sitting-room necessary. Before leaving Miss
Richards, I inquired who were the women who had done most to make this
delightful home possible. She answered that would be hard to say, as
there have been many, and some do not care to have their work known. It
was only after I pressed the question a second time that she answered,
"Well, I suppose Miss Hoff is the American girls' best friend in Paris.
Helen Gould (I do not know her married name) has always given our home
warm support, and last year when she traveled in Italy she established a
Students' Hostel in Rome. But one thing I wish you would tell our girls
at home. That this is a hotel and not a charitable organization, and a
woman who stops here need not feel she is sacrificing her spirit of
self-reliance and independence. All we try to offer is a comfortable
home at prices within the reach of most American girls who come over to
study in Paris. We make an effort to do two other things; to try to give
the right protection so necessary to girls who live in the French
capital alone, and comradeship we all need when living in a foreign
land. Five dollars a week is what a girl must count on to live here.
"Besides home and board, we have French classes for our girls conducted
by able instructors for a small tuition; these teachers give private
lessons, and when it is desired to coach girls for their examinations in
the Sorbonne.
"The students of music are not neglected. Certain hours of the day are
set aside for practicing. We have weekly concerts at home and make an
effort to get reduced rates for our girls when any of the great halls
offer concerts that are worth while.
"Yes, we are trying to do much for our girls who come here to study
painting. Many of them wish to live in the Latin Quarter and they find
it really impossible to obtain the comforts that they are used to at
home. Here they can enjoy the art student's life and have protection.
Many discover that they are not ready to enter the Ecole des Beaux Arts;
as for the large studios, they do not always offer enough individual
attention for the student. For these we have a large, well-built studio
of our own, where classes are conducted by some of the best masters of
Paris."
Before leaving the Hostel I was invited into a garden gay with roses and
carnations and the merry voices of happy girls. They were gathered in
little groups, drinking tea, chatting French, and discussing the work
they had accomplished that day. A pretty American girl approached me,
saying, "Will you have tea, bread and butter?" In a few minutes she
brought me tea on a pretty Chinese tray.
We laughed and chatted in turn, telling of our work and aspirations. As
we sat in the beautiful twilight of that summer day we never dreamed
that Paris would be threatened in a few weeks and the Students' Hostel,
so dear to American artists and students, would become deserted.
PARIS, PAST AND PRESENT
I hate to think of Paris in a sombre tone, for Paris likes to be gay at
all times. It is the natural tempo of the city, for whatever may be the
follies of this Parisian capital, she is always beautiful, lively and
gay. Her large, wide boulevards are now deserted, except for an
occasional regiment of French and English troops that hurry along, or
now and then an auto-car speeding up the boulevard carrying some high
officials on an important mission.
Most of the fine shops in the Avenue de L'Opera and the Rue de La Paix
are closed and heavily shuttered while their handsome stock of pearls
and other jewels, fine dresses and furs, are hidden in vaults and put
away in packing trunks. Even at noontime, when the streets are usually
thronged with the working-girls hurrying to their luncheon or out for a
half an hour's exercise, the streets are deserted except for the
appearance of some tired-looking shopgirl trying to earn a few cents in
spite of present conditions. The beautiful hotels, always crowded this
time of the year, are empty except for a few Americans who are
lingering, waiting for a boat to take them home. The large cafés on the
boulevard are all closed. It is only the small tea-rooms and bars that
dare hope for any business.
The smart people who live out near the Bois have heard too much about
German Zeppelins to venture out on a beautiful day, and forbid their
nurses taking the children into the park. It is only the poorer people
in the Latin Quarter who insist in taking their children in the
beautiful gardens of the Luxembourg for an airing. As night falls, the
people gather in crowds to watch the skies. They have let their
imaginations dwell so long on Zeppelins and bombs that many imagine they
see these awful implements of war when they are watching harmless stars.
At the other end of the city, they gather round the Eiffel Tower, which
now bears the highest artillery in the world. Here are placed immense
machine guns. Up at Montmartre, the people gather in little circles to
read the letters they have received from their soldier boys and to
discuss the possibility of Paris being captured. They have forgotten all
about their once lively dance-halls and cabarets. There are but few
artists left in this quarter now, for they have either gone home or to
the front, while the women and children amuse themselves reading the
last extra or listening to an organ-grinder giving them many patriotic
airs for a few sous.
How lonely and sad these vacant streets and boulevards look, contrasted
with their appearance on the 15th of July, which is France's national
holiday. Then there was dancing on nearly every street corner, made
livelier by the throwing of confetti, careless laughter and much
kissing. The Queen of Beauty ruled then, while now havoc and the
cruelties of war are in supremacy. Except for a few soldiers and
officers moving up and down in the Bois, that splendid park is quite
deserted. The famous cafés, such as Madrid and Armoneville, have closed
their doors. It is hard to imagine that these restaurants were visited
by no less than five thousand people during an afternoon of the races.
Less than two months ago, the great markets of Paris were crowded with
country people hurrying in with their carts, horses and mules. In a
short time they had distributed their splendid supply of meats,
vegetables, fruits, flowers and small merchandise without and within. By
seven o'clock the place was crowded with women of all social classes and
wealth. Now the great crowds have dwindled, for the markets only display
the barest necessities and the women only come and buy as they actually
need them.
It is said that thousands of women have been thrown out of employment,
for more than sixty per cent. of the women in Paris were working women.
No sooner had war been declared than most of the small shops closed
their doors and this threw hundreds of women out of work. A few of the
leading dressmaking establishments carried their main business over to
London, but they could not give employment to all their people. A few of
the large stores kept open for a while, but soon their men were called
to the front and so their business did not pay. I wonder what has become
of the great numbers of designers and artists who were dependent on
foreign purchase for their livelihood? Occasionally a pale, haggard girl
passes by, as though she was seeking employment in a designer's studio
or in an artist's atelier. But business is at a standstill and there is
only employment for a very few out of many.
The flower markets which always made Paris so attractive have vanished,
even the famous flower market in front of the Madeleine. It is only an
occasional old woman who has the courage to try to earn a few pennies by
selling roses or lilies of the valley.
The streets lack all energy, even in the afternoon, when there is so
much energy in Paris. The women have neither the courage nor the money
to start off on any shopping trips. The French women now appear in
simple attire and are limiting their shopping to the few things they
need. Many have been deprived of their large incomes, are managing to
do their own housework and are looking after their children, while those
who can still afford things are busy working for the Red Cross, visiting
the hospitals and _craches_.
Even more deserted is the Latin Quarter with the Sorbonne called the
Medicine and at the Ecole des Beaux Arts. Usually at this time of the
year they are busy with their annual house-cleaning preparatory to
receiving the many students that come from America, England, Poland,
Russia and Germany. Their doors are closed so tightly this year they
certainly will not be opened. The gaiety of the Latin Quarter is now a
thing of the past. A few soldiers sipping their coffee out of doors is a
commonplace picture for the gay-hearted artists that once promenaded the
street with their pretty models and coquettes. There is now no dancing
nor merry-making up at Montmartre, the real artists' quarter. The
streets are now so deserted they are excellent dens for thieves and
robbers, for gone are even the venders with their push-carts who made a
noise as they hawked their wares. Even the museums and picture galleries
are closed, and the only public buildings left open are those being used
for military purposes. The few women and children seen on the street
look frightened and worried. Any jar or noise seems to promise danger.
Sunday is like any other day, except that crowds of people hurry to the
Madeleine or Notre Dame to beg for peace or for war to be over. All the
stalls on the Seine are closed and the strand is vacant except for the
soldiers that patrol up and down. All the cab-drivers left in Paris are
either old men or women who find it hard to earn a few francs a day.
The country looks almost as deserted. Many a beautiful farm has gone to
waste because there is no one to look after the harvest. Still, the
women and children are doing their level best working on the farms and
doing all they can to save their vegetables and grain.
Many of the vineyards have been trampled on by regiments of soldiers and
most of the lovely champagne country is ruined. The hardest blow of all
was the news that the famous cathedral at Rheims had been destroyed and
all the famous buildings had either been laid in ruins or seriously
damaged. The cathedral is supposed to have the finest rose window left
in France and it was considered the finest piece of Gothic architecture.
It was in this cathedral that Charles the Tenth was crowned and that the
lovely Maid of Orleans saw the coronation of Charles VII which marked
the fulfillment of her vision. The beautiful Church of Saint Jacques has
commemorated her life in beautiful stained glass windows, while the
museum, rich in treasures that memorialize her life, has also been
destroyed. It is not therefore to be wondered at that the poor French
people who love their country so well are brokenhearted as they look out
on the approaching night, wondering what will happen next.
HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE A REFUGEE?
How would you like to be a refugee for four weeks, fleeing from the
horrors and hardships of war? How would you like to be cut off all this
time by mail and cable from relatives and friends? How would you like to
be many thousand miles from home, with little money and no credit,
trying to meet your obligations and at the same time sharing the little
you have with those less fortunate than you are?
This is a brief summary of my experience won from the war. The situation
looked so hopeless because the war came like a thunderbolt out of a
clear sky. I was at Bad Kissingen in Southern Bavaria when the news came
that Austria was threatening Servia with war. Though some of the
alarmists were confident that this meant the beginning of a world war,
the German papers assured the nations that everything was being done to
confine the war to Austria and Servia. Even the Austrian Emperor had
said that his country had started the war and it was up to him to work
out his own salvation.
I was therefore more surprised when the word came on Saturday that
Russia had mobilized for the purpose of crossing the German frontier.
This mere threat seemed to paralyze most of the Americans who were busy
taking their cures in this Bavarian resort, for until then they had only
heard war spoken of at far range. Many of them went mornings and
afternoons to the Kurgarten and tried to drown their sorrows in the
beautiful strains of the Viennese orchestra, which they listened to in a
listless way. The thought uppermost in their minds was how would we get
out if Russia really declared war on Germany?
The most panicky and energetic got busy and left, but most of the
Americans tried to pull themselves together and to wait for further
developments. Our unsteady nerves and heavy hearts were reassured by the
articles in all the German dailies saying that they were doing their
level best to stay out of the fight and to keep the war confined to
Austria and Servia. The foreign diplomats, even of England, gave the
same reassuring reports. This promise of good faith and friendship was
given out on Saturday, so on Sunday when word came that Russia had been
mobilizing for three days to cross the German frontier, it came as a
shock. But Germany still tried to ward it off by granting Russia twelve
hours to give some sort of explanation for this work. This Russia did by
sending some of her forces across the German frontier.
By noon on Sunday our sanitarium was in a pandemonium of excitement, as
it became known that many German officers were being recalled and were
busy packing their trunks to catch the first afternoon train back to the
Prussian capital.
I tore down-stairs two steps at a time. In the hallway I met a German
countess weeping in real sorrow while her grandmother was trying to
console her. When I inquired the reason for all this grief the
grandmother said that her grandsons were officers and had been called to
their different regiments.
In the dining-room that noon there were one hundred and seventy-five
worried men and women of many different nationalities. They were
plotting and planning how they could escape the war, or at least get to
their homes. The Germans had soon decided to leave without any delay for
Berlin, Frankfurt, Munich and other German cities so they could tell
each other goodbye before the men started for war.
The Russian merchants and bankers were alarmed and they started for St.
Petersburg and Moscow to escape being made prisoners in Germany. There
were two Persian princes who hurried to the minister of war and obtained
permission to take out their auto-car and started for Lucerne that very
afternoon. Many Americans who had auto-cars with them made the same
move trying to get to Berlin, The Hague or London, but most of these
were shot at before they had gone very far. The two Persian princes
barely escaped being shot as Turkish spies.
In less than two hours only thirty-five guests were left in the
sanitarium; most of these were Americans and Russians who were wondering
if they had not made a mistake by staying. They were comforted when they
heard the next day that most of the people who had left had not gotten
very far.
The thought that we were living in a military country on the eve of one
of the world's greatest wars was just a little nerve-racking. That
afternoon we took a carriage drive through the woods to one of the
neighboring towns. It was a beautiful summer's day, and it was hard to
think that a terrible war was about to break over this placid scene. The
picture was made more attractive by the many peasants out for their
usual Sunday holiday in their large farm wagons. These carts were
crowded with German families of the usual size, children, parents and
grandparents. Though they did not look jovial, the expression of their
countenances never indicated that they realized that a great war was
pending.
It was after five when my mother and I returned to the sanitarium that
afternoon. I had been resting less than a half-hour in the large hall
when a head-waiter came and threw an extra bulletin in my lap, which
read that Germany had mobilized and declared war.
The men seated near me turned pale; they were too stunned to make any
comment on the situation. I waited until I had calmed myself and then I
bounded up to my room. My mother was resting at the time, and by the way
I tore into the room she must have thought a tiger was about to break
loose from the zoo.
"It's all up! It's all up!" I cried, as I sounded a bell for a porter to
come and help me pack my book-trunk. I cleared the bureau drawers and
the tables and he commenced to pack with as much enthusiasm as though we
were going off to join a regiment. Then I proceeded to take the dresses
out of the wardrobe and began to pile everything high on the beds.
"Have you gone crazy?" my mother said, only to get the determined
answer, "No, but we are off tomorrow," as I continued to add more
clothes to the great pile. I proceeded to explain that I had engaged a
Swiss man to take us across the frontier and then we would decide
whether to go to Holland, Belgium or England.
While talking and working, I failed to notice that one of the nurses had
been in the room giving my mother some medicine and had overheard the
conversation. I was also unaware of the fact that she had gone
down-stairs and told the head-doctor that I was informing the patients
that Germany had declared war. He sent up one of his assistants, who
said that I was creating a panic in his sanitarium. His remarks in
German, translated into English, were somewhat like the following:
"You are an egoist to create all this excitement; don't you know that
the maids are out in the hall crying?"
I answered that I was sorry if any of the women had been made hysterical
by the news but I was in no way responsible for the war.
I soon saw that it was as difficult to combat the egotistical in peace
as in war, so I decided to sit steady and await an opportunity. The next
morning I went down at six-thirty to see what the fifty thousand guests
were doing and how they took the situation. The place about the
music-stand was packed with Germans and German-Americans who were
listening to such strains as "Der Wacht am Rhein," "Deutchland über
Alles," intermingled with our own "Star Spangled Banner." The only
comment made on these strains were the cries of "Hoch! Hoch!" from time
to time. At the other end of the grounds was another mob of men and
women reading the extra bulletin that a Russian regiment had crossed the
frontier and Germany had declared war. The men had a worried look and
the women were pale and anxious, but all showed magnificent control.
There were no cries heard of "Down with Russia!" or "Down with France!"
Many of these Germans were still filled with hope that Sir Edward Grey
would bring these foreign powers to a satisfactory understanding.
It was not until Tuesday that the first men enlisted and martial law was
proclaimed. A large part of the promenade was roped off and guarded by
petty officers. Nobody crossed this plot of ground under penalty of
being shot.
The proclaiming of martial law was a new experience for me, so I stood
behind the ropes for hours at a time, seeing the young men come to the
front, take the oath and enlist. The first regiments were only boys,
still unmarried, living in romance rather than actuality. But I soon
decided that it was not as hard for them to bid their sweethearts
goodbye as it was a little later for fathers to bid their wives and
several clinging children farewell. A week later it was even harder to
see the old men, many of whom had served in the war of '70 and '71,
gladly come forth again to join the rank and file. More than twenty-five
thousand men enlisted in a week. They ranged from nineteen to forty-five
and came from all conditions of life; the richest and the poorest alike
were eager to go and fight and if necessary to die for their country.
They were impatient to change their civilian uniform for the
earth-color uniforms. It was pathetic to see some of them hand over
their old suits to their wives, for I wondered if they would ever use
them again. But they seemed hopeful as they moved on, singing their
favorite military strains. Each regiment had its favorite song; with one
it was "Der Wacht am Rhein," with another "Deutchland über Alles."
This continued for a week, until twenty-five thousand men had been
called out from Bad Kissingen and surrounding country. Most of these
were farmers who had to drop their work before the harvesting of their
grain. This work was turned over to women and children, while young boy
scouts came and volunteered to work on the farms. The men were called
into the different regiments mornings, noons and afternoons, until I
wondered if it would ever stop. They marched off only to form new
regiments. As I climbed the hill one day a middle-aged, kindly woman
said to me in a choked voice, "I am giving everything I have in this
world to this war, my husband and five sons. Four of them are to fight
against France and two against Russia." She controlled her grief as she
spoke, but it was not hard to see that her heart was broken. Many of the
men working in our place were called out without getting a chance to
tell wives or mothers goodbye, while one man confessed modestly that he
was to be the father of a first child in less than two months. In a
week's time the male population was so depleted that it was hard to find
a man walking in town or out in the fields. The few young men left were
so ashamed they had not been taken that they hastened to explain that
they belonged to the Landsturm and that they would be called out during
the next two weeks. That most of them went willingly is shown by the
fact that in a week's time Germany had over a million in arms. When a
young man was refused by one ministry of war he applied to another and
did not give up until he had been refused five or six times. Even the
tear-stained faces of mothers and sweethearts did not influence these
young men from rallying around their flag. These German women were
perfect Spartans and were glad when they had four or five sons to give
to their country. They are trying to do their best to fill the gaps made
by husbands and sons in homes, in the fields and in the shops, taking
their positions in stores, in banks and on street cars.
In a few days these peaceful Bavarian people settled down to their daily
routine. They were not surprised when France as well as Russia declared
war on them, for it was what they naturally expected. But the news that
England also had declared war came as a terrible shock. This news
fanned the fire into a terrible flame and goaded the Germans on to a
point where they felt they must lose all or win all.
Although the Americans were sympathizing with all this sorrow they had
plenty of worries of their own. By half-past eight in the morning and at
three in the afternoon, there were such crowds of people gathered before
the small banks and ticket agents that it was next to hopeless to get in
without being crushed, even if one wanted tickets or money. The Germans,
Russians and English were foremost in these crowds, for the Germans felt
they had to get home while the Russians or English wanted to escape
being taken prisoners. Being an American, I felt that I was well
protected until one morning I was stopped by a German and was accused of
being a Russian. One day two of these men stopped me and I understood
enough of what they were saying to know that they wanted to prove that I
was a spy. Fortunately I had my passport with me, and that was enough to
prove that I was an innocent American looking for friends and money
instead of working with bombs.
The Americans in our sanitarium were fairly quiet until the word came
that the banks were closed; at least, they would only give out money on
German letters of credit. This information was aggravated by the fact
that England had closed the cable in Germany. Paradoxical as it may
seem, it was strange to us that the days moved on just the same, the
days multiplied themselves into a week, and we had a board-bill staring
us in the face with no prospect of money. I thought our host might be
kind enough not to present us with a bill at the end of the week, but it
came in just as usual. I was so angry that I left it there for a week
without looking at it. I soon made up my mind if I could not get out of
Germany the best thing to do was to bring some money into Germany.