It is curious how much sympathy there was for England even months after
the beginning of the war. Ladies whom we knew had always had their
dresses made in London, and asserted their intention of doing so again
as soon as the war was over. Others, who were strongly attracted by the
freedom of English life, still felt the charm in spite of all that had
happened. And when they were in the company of people they could trust,
they used to say how much they were longing for the war to end in order
that they might resume the pleasant relations which had been broken
off. They never doubted that the English would meet them halfway. Such
of my students as were in England when war was declared were loud in
praise of the courtesy with which they had been treated. Communication
was possible with England through Holland, and these students were
still receiving letters breathing assurances of friendship. The German
Government had at the very beginning laid their hands on the personal
possessions of all Englishmen who had left Germany. I tried in vain
to rescue the property of my friends who had fled at the outbreak of
war. The War Office had been there before me. On the other hand, the
officials in England were not so quick. My students were getting their
effects sent out to them through Holland without any hindrance.
[SN: ENGLISH TRADE]
It was curious to notice how things English had risen in public
estimation when once they were hard to get. Huntley and Palmer’s
biscuits, for instance, ruled the German market in time of peace. No
German biscuit can be compared with them for a minute. An officer we
knew wrote home asking his mother to send him out some biscuits. She
trudged all over Bonn in search of Huntley and Palmer’s. At one shop
they offered her German ones, saying they were just as good. She flared
up at once. “Do you think,” she said, “I would send German biscuits to
my son at the front?” Finally the indomitable old lady managed to get a
tin of English biscuits, and she sent them off. All the mourning crêpe,
arm-bands, and so on, worn in Germany were imported from England, even
long after war was declared. A merchant told me that the Germans could
not manufacture it, they simply had to have English crêpe! Jokes were
often cut at the expense of the business instincts of the English; they
got up a war to kill German soldiers in order to sell mourning to their
mothers and wives. I could hear of nothing else being imported from
England except English books. All the new publications on the English
market arrived regularly and could be inspected at the University
Library. Even the little propaganda booklets of the Clarendon Press
were there. I subscribed to the _Morning Post_ through a Dutch
bookseller and for nearly a year received every number, except the one
describing the attack on Scarborough. That was suppressed.
Although I had nothing to complain of, Englishwomen married to
Germans were subject to the bitterest persecution. Coffee parties
would be formed, to which they would be invited, and then each guest
present in turn, by those little stabs that women know so well how to
inflict, would see how she could torture the “Engländerin.” A certain
“_Professorenfrau_” we knew wanted to try the same tactics on me. She
made the most extravagant efforts to convert me to her way of thinking.
When everything else had failed she even visited the members of my
household and suggested they should make my life a hell to me until
they had brought me round to the German point of view. Then she tried
to entrap me. She was putting on the usual pose, asserting that Germany
had never expected that England would make war on her and that nothing
had surprised her more.
[SN: A VIRAGO]
“Well, then,” I assured her, “how do you explain the fact that _four
days before the declaration of war_ Germany arrested all the English
sailors in the country, even those in little sailing vessels far up
the Rhine, as well as other Englishmen she thought it desirable to
keep?” I gave her the names of acquaintances of mine who were put in
the common jail without being accused of anything--and this before the
declaration of war. She refused to believe it, and requested me to give
her a written statement over my signature. This was the trick always
played by German agents on Belgians in neutral countries. If they made
a written declaration and signed their names to it, their families in
Belgium would suffer for it; while if they refused--then they were
branded as liars. I, of course, refused, and the woman broke out into
a storm of abuse. I have never seen a more horrible figure, even among
the drunken viragos of Whitechapel. At last, fearing for my eyes, as
her fingers were obviously itching to be at me, I bowed, and left the
room as hastily as was consistent with dignity.
But though I never took any trouble to conceal my English
sympathies--in fact, they were notorious--I had nothing to complain
of except from this woman. It is with especial pleasure that I record
that my relations with my students were never so cordial as in this
last Semester. My correspondence was censored from early days, and
the essays my students sent me all went through the Censor’s hands.
This caused some hindrance to the work, but they simply thought it a
good joke that the Censor should have to read their essays. (Letters
addressed to me were always censored; letters addressed to my wife
never were. It is a curious example of the limitations of official
intelligence.) My colleagues and other friends, when they discussed
the war with me, were quite fair, and seemed only interested in
discovering the English point of view. Some of my acquaintances were
good enough to inform me, with all the exactness and conscientiousness
of German pedantry, what they thought of England, and then to add
they did not want that to interfere with our relations. If I laughed
at their clumsiness, I valued their good will. The professors of
English throughout Germany were the bitterest. They did not help their
countrymen to understand England at all. One man told me he was going
to learn to speak English with an American accent and insist on his
students doing the same. Another spent his time translating a Dutch
book, proving that Germany was superior in material resources to the
whole of the British Empire.
Of course, although private friendships might remain unaltered, it
was dangerous to speak English in public. Americans had an especially
bad time. An acquaintance of mine had a tankard of beer emptied over
his head for speaking English in a Bavarian restaurant. The populace
used to invent the absurdest rumours about the English people living
in Bonn. They were all spies, they were all going to be arrested,
they were all living in cellars, not daring to show their faces. The
soldiers who were quartered on us from time to time used to bring a
budget of these tales about me and amuse the servants with them.
[SN: ENGLISH TRADE]
The Government began their campaign against English trade at once. The
Sunlight Soap Works passed into German hands in the first days of the
war. What the terms were I never heard, but as it was a forced sale
they could not have been generous. English insurance companies are
popular in Germany, because they can be relied on to pay up. Holders
of English policies were informed that they could change over into
German companies, who thus acquired the bulk of the English business
in Germany. The Government also tried to bring about an international
agreement by which, in future, the lengths of sewing cotton should be
given in metres and not in yards. They thought in this way to strike
at the English control of the market. Certain companies, like Singer’s
Sewing Machine, were the objects of bitter and unscrupulous attacks in
the press, and they, no doubt, lost a great many of their customers.
Englishmen in business were cheated in all sorts of underhand ways. One
man I knew was taken to Ruhleben and left his wife (a German woman) in
charge of the business. All her assistants combined to render her life
insupportable, and finally she had to give up the attempt to carry on.
As a result, foreseen of course, the business was sold at a heavy loss.
Another friend of mine had an especially tragic experience. For some
years he had been the chemical director of a German factory, staying
on there more out of friendship to the proprietor than for what he was
making out of it. He was on his holidays in England all that fateful
July before the war broke out, and on the 31st he received a wire from
the factory, imploring him to return. He did so, and as soon as he
arrived was informed that his salary had been reduced by one-half. He
protested, and was curtly told he must economize and must cut down the
number of his servants--one was quite enough in time of war. Then, in
November, he was interned in Ruhleben. His firm promptly dismissed him
and refused to pay his salary any longer, although he had the usual
contract providing for six months’ pay in lieu of notice. In December
the German Government let him go back to Bonn for a few days to see
if he could regain his position. Those Englishmen who were kept on
in their old posts were being released from Ruhleben. His firm would
not take him, they had other ends in view. He had in his possession a
book containing a number of chemical formulæ. These formed practically
his stock-in-trade and were extremely valuable. Some were old family
secrets handed down from father to son, others were the results of
his own independent research. The firm tried to cajole him out of his
formulæ, but, failing in that, started an action at law against him for
the possession of the book. He knew nothing about it till one day a
representative of the firm appeared at Ruhleben, and in the same breath
informed him of the action, that he had lost it, and that he must
deliver up the book for some time. He did so. Whether he ever got it
back again I do not know. In any case his firm was in possession of all
his secrets without paying him a penny for them. It throws a curious
light on “German efficiency”--and in chemistry, too!--that they have
to resort to such measures to steal an Englishman’s knowledge. I need
scarcely comment on the difference between German and English ideas of
justice. In Germany, the Englishman condemned in his absence, unheard;
in England, every German, even Krupp, represented by the best counsel
money can buy, and his case carefully and patiently listened to.
[SN: INJUSTICE]
One other instance of ill-treatment I add. It is rather important and
I have not seen it referred to in any publication, although some of
the victims must already be in England. It is asserted that when war
broke out there was a sort of agreement between the English and German
Governments to the effect that male subjects of military age in either
country should be free to return home up to August 11. After that
date they would not be allowed to leave the country. Now, it was easy
for Germans to leave England--the trains were running, and the Dutch
service of ships was working just as in peace time. In Germany it was
quite different. Twenty-four hours after the declaration of war the
whole of the railways were taken over by the military authorities and
used solely for the purposes of mobilization. Englishmen, therefore,
who happened to be in Germany, had to stay just where they were. But
some enterprising Englishmen in Cologne endeavoured to charter a Dutch
steamer in order to go down the Rhine on her to Rotterdam. After
protracted negotiations they succeeded. But they had to face so many
difficulties that they did not reach Wesel, the last big place in
Germany on the Rhine, till midnight of August 11. As they had exceeded
their time, they were all taken prisoners and sent to Sennelager. No
preparations had been made to receive them, there were no huts or
buildings to shelter them, there were not even any tents. To make
matters worse, the rain came down in a steady downpour for two days.
They themselves were wet through to the skin, and even their good
leather suit-cases were sodden and the contents ruined by the rain.
After a little while the Englishmen were sent back home again until it
was time for them to go to Ruhleben.