The Schemes of the Kaiser - Juliette Adam (best ebook reader ubuntu txt) 📗

a last and supreme act of cowardly surrender--namely, to give William II a friendly reception at Cannes or in Paris.

The chief argument with which they would persuade us is, that Berlin is quite willing to receive our philosophers and our doctors. But we are more than quits on this score, seeing the number of Germans that we entertain and enrich in Paris. To prove that we owe them nothing in the matter of hospitality, it should be enough to ascertain on the 27th inst. how many Germans will celebrate the birthday of William II in one of our first-rate hotels.

Heaven be praised, hatred of the Hohenzollerns is not yet dead in France! If it be true that the corpse of an enemy always smells sweet, the person of a living enemy must always remain hateful.

Before we discuss the possibility of the King of Prussia visiting Paris, however, let us wait until M. Carnot has been to Berlin.


January 29, 1891. [2]

The nearer we approach to 1900, the less desire have I to be up-to-date. I persist in the belief that the solution of the problems of European policy in which France is concerned, would have been more readily attainable by an old fashioned fidelity to the memory of our misfortunes than by scorning to learn by our experience.

Certain well-meaning, end-of-the century sceptics may be able lightly to throw off that past in which they have (or believe they have) lost nothing, whilst we of the "mid-century" are borne down under its heavy burden. These people neglect no occasion to advise us to forget and they do it gracefully, lightly showing us how much more modern it is to crown oneself with roses than to continue to wear tragically our trailing garments of affliction and mourning.

I should be inclined to judge with more painful severity those witty writers who advise us to light-hearted friendship with Bismarck the "great German," with William the "sympathetic Emperor", with Richard Wagner "the highest expression of historical poetry and musical art," those men who prepared and who perpetuate Prussia's victories--I should judge them differently, I say, were it not that I remember my former anger against the young decadents and the older _roues_ in the last days of the Empire.

All of them used to make mock of patriotism in a jargon mixed with slang which greatly disturbed the minds of worthy folk, who became half ashamed at harbouring, in spite of themselves, the ridiculous emotions "of another age."

But these same decadents and _roues_, after a period of initiation somewhat longer than that which falls to the lot of ordinary mortals, behaved very gallantly in the Terrible Year.

True, in order to convince them that they had been wrong in regarding the theft of Schleswig-Holstein as a trifle, wrong in applauding the victory of Sadowa, and declaring that each war was the last, it required such disasters, that not one of us can evoke without trembling the memory of those events, whose lurid light served to open the eyes of the blindest.

"Understand this," Nefftzer was wont to insist (before 1870), "we can never wish that Prussia should be victorious without running the risk of bringing about our own defeat; we must not yield to any of her allurements nor even smile at any of her wiles."

If the people of Paris applaud Wagner, he who believed himself to be the genius of victorious Germany personified, it can only be in truth that Paris has forgotten. And in that case, there will only be left, of those who rightly remember, but a few mothers, a few widows, a few old campaigners and your humble servant!

So that we may recognise each other in this world's wilderness, we will wear in our button-holes and in our bodices that blue flower which grows in the streams of Alsace-Lorraine, the forget-me-not!

And we shall vanish, one by one, disappearing with the dying century, _that is, unless some surprise of sudden war, such as one must expect from William II, should cure us of our antiquated attitude_.

Need I speak of these rumours of disarmament, wherewith the German Press now seeks to lull us, rumours which spread the more persistently since, at last, we have come to believe in our armaments?

"Germany is satisfied and seeks no further conquests," says William II. But does it follow that we also should be satisfied with the bitter memories of our defeats, and resolved that, no matter what may happen, we shall never object to Prussia's victories? I never forget that William II, as a Prince, in his grandfather's time, said, "When I come to the Throne I shall do my best to make dupes." This rumour of disarmament is part of his dupe-making. The real William reveals himself in his true colours when he awakens his aide-de-camp in the middle of the night, to go and pay a surprise visit to the garrison at Hanover.

In Militarism the German Emperor finds his complete expression and the emblem of his character. His empire is not a centralised empire and only the army holds it together.

And for this reason William has favoured the army this year at the expense of all the other public services, by increasing its peace-footing strength and the number of its officers, by ordering more than two hundred locomotives and a corresponding amount of rolling stock intended to expedite mobilisation. Seventy new batteries have been formed. The artillery has been furnished with new ammunition, the infantry with new weapons, and the strategic network of railways has been completed!

Abroad, every one, friends and enemies alike, think as I do on the subject of disarmament.

"This plaything of William the Second's leisure moments," says _The Standard_ (although a fervent admirer of Queen Victoria's grandson), "this disarmament idea, is a myth." Our faithful and loyal supporter, the _Sviet_, says the same thing: "Disarmament is a myth, Germany talks of it unceasingly, but she strengthens her frontiers, east and west. On the north," adds the Russian organ, "she is converting Heligoland into a fortress; on the south-east, she is increasing the defences of Breslau, and holds in readiness two thousand axle-trees _of the width of the Russian railways_."

It is only in France that a few up-to-date journalists take this disarmament talk of the German Emperor quite seriously. To them, we may reply by a quotation from the official organ of the "great German."

"The course of historic events," says the _Hamburger Nachrichten_, "is opposed to any realisation of the idea of disarmament, and justifies the opinion expressed by Von Moltke, who declared war to be in reality a necessary element in the order of things, of itself natural and divine, which humanity can never give up without becoming stagnant and submitting to moral and physical ruin."

There you have the genuine style of Bismarck, of the man who invented the formula--"the Right of Might."

One thing--and one thing only--might possibly lead William II to entertain seriously this idea of disarmament, and that would be for Bismarck to oppose it. Truly, there is something extremely pleasant in this duel between the two ex-accomplices! Bismarck terrorising socialism, William coaxing and wheedling it, for no other tangible purpose than to act in opposition to him whose power he has overthrown.

What an eccentric freak is this German Emperor! One day he sends the Sultan a sword of honour, a bitter jest for one who has never known anything but defeat! The next, he proposes to take back the command of the fleet from his brother Henry, and in order to get rid of him conceives the plan of making Alsace-Lorraine and Luxembourg into a new kingdom.

At the same time he proposes to provide the Grand Duke of Luxembourg with a guard of honour, a guard _a la Prudhomme_, whose business it would be to defend and to fight him. The State Council of the patriotic Grand Duchy is aroused, and denies the right of Prussia on any pretext to interfere in its affairs. Boldly it reminds the Powers signatory to the Convention of 1867 of their pledges.

And with all his mania for governing the world at large, William II would seem to be possessed of the evil eye, and to bring misfortune to all whom he honours with his friendship for any length of time.


February 10, 1891.

It looks as if poor Bismarck were about to be treated just as he treated Count von Arnim. Can it be that everything must be paid for in this world, and that a splendid retributive justice rules the destiny even of super-men and punishes them for committing base actions? It is rumoured that the Duke of Lauenbourg (Bismarck) is threatened with prosecution on a charge of _lese majeste_, which the lawyers of the Crown will not have very much trouble in proving against him. That any one should dare to criticise the Emperor's policy, even though it be Bismarck, or that any one, even be it Count Waldersee, should express a personal opinion in his presence, is more than William II will tolerate.

The "sympathetic Emperor" has a cruel way of doing things. Before striking his victims it is his wont to give them some public mark of his esteem and good-will. Small and great, they pass before him, sacrificed each in his turn, so soon as they have come to believe themselves for a moment in the enjoyment of his favour. Thus Colonel Kaissel, aide-de-camp to the Emperor, is about to be shelved. Lieutenant von Chelin has been removed from the Court, General von Wittich has already lost his fleeting favour, and the moderating influence of Major de Huene, erected on the ruins of that of Von Falkenstein, proves to be equally short-lived. Three generals in command of army corps are now threatened--that is, of course, unless a fortnight hence they should prove to have reached the highest pinnacle of favour.

Three months ago Von Moltke declared that he and Bismarck would live long enough to be able to say "Farewell to the Empire."

On the other hand, Von Puttkamer seems to be regaining something of favour, and Prince Battenberg has been welcomed to the old Castle; strange plans concerning him are being hatched in the brain of William II.

Prince Henry has been brought back, ostensibly to take part in the Councils of the Government, but in reality that he may be watched the more closely. He also has received a letter in which he is publicly thanked for the services he has rendered. If I were in his place I should be very uneasy, seeing the kind of brother that he was, the most changeable the most jealous, and the most suspicious of men. There is a false ring about this letter to Prince Henry, just as there was in those which the Emperor addressed to Count Waldersee and to Bismarck. Gratitude is a word that William often thinks fit to use, but it is a sentiment that he is careful never to indulge in.

It is impossible to discover any sign of a heart in the actions of the German Sovereign. One may therefore predict that he will continue to show an ever increasing preference for distinguished personalities, whom it may please him to destroy, or creatures who would be the butts of his malicious sport, rather than to encourage the kind of public servants who strive continually to increase their efficiency, so as to serve him better. Instead of being simply good and ruling