XXXIV
IN BERLIN AND HAMBURG
My review · Invitation to Berlin · A. H. Fried and his plans · The reading · The Berlin Tageblatt on a letter from Frédéric Passy · A banquet · Voices from the Press · Evening at Spielhagen’s · Dinner at Mosse’s · The Empress Frederick · Professor W. Meyer does us the honors of “Urania” · Excursion to Hamburg · An evening tea with Hans Land, Dr. Löwenberg, Otto Ernst, and Detlev von Liliencron · A letter of Liliencron’s
As aforesaid: on January 1, 1892, began the publication of my review Die Waffen nieder, through the house of A. H. Fried, Berlin. The publisher helped me very zealously in the editing. Distinguished collaborators were represented in the very first numbers: Carneri, Friedrich Jodl, Ludwig Fulda, Björnson, Bonghi, Karl Henckell, Rosegger, Widman, Moritz Adler, and others sent me articles. I published the review for eight years, until the end of 1899. From that time forth its place was taken by the Friedenswarte, edited by A. H. Fried, which is still—in 1908—being published, and to which I regularly contribute a running chronicle entitled Randglossen zur Zeitgeschichte, “Comments on the History of the Time.”
But let us return to 1892. Through my participation in the Congress at Rome, through my editorial labors on the peace review, through correspondence with sympathizers in all parts of the world, through the duties connected with the Vienna Union, I was now wholly absorbed in the movement. The next object of my desire—and in this also I was incited and supported by A. H. Fried—was to see a peace society, established in Berlin likewise.
I received from the Berlin Press Society an invitation to give, on one of their literary nights in the following March, a public reading of some chapters from my novel Die Waffen nieder in behalf of the endowment fund of the Society. I accepted the invitation, and my husband and I started for Berlin full of anticipation. For I had learned by previous letters from A. H. Fried that a very special honor was in store for me, namely a banquet, whose committee of organization presented the following signatures: Dr. Baumbach, vice president of the Reichstag; Dr. Barth, member of the Reichstag and editor of the Nation; Wilhelm Bölsche, author; Oskar Blumenthal, dramatic writer; Gustav Dahms, editor of the Bazar; Paul Dobert, editor of Zur guten Stunde; Karl Frenzel, writer; Dr. Max Hirsch, member of the Reichstag; Hans Land, author; A. H. Fried, publisher; L’Arronge, theatrical manager; Fritz Mauthner, author; Dr. Arthur Levysohn, editor in chief of the Berliner Tageblatt; O. Neumann-Hofer, editor of the Magazin; Paul Schlenther; Prinz Schönaich-Carolath, member of the Reichstag; Zobeltitz; Albert Traeger, member of the Reichstag; Julius Wolff; Baron von Wolzogen; and Friedrich; Spielhagen.
It was A. H. Fried who had been the original promoter of this affair, and who had also succeeded in obtaining such brilliant names on the dinner committee. He was waiting for us at the railway station on our arrival, and this afforded me my first opportunity of becoming acquainted with the publisher and co-creator of my review. A young man of twenty-eight, all fire and flame for the cause of peace, full of zeal for organization. He began at once to unfold plans for using my presence toward realizing the establishment of a proposed union. There was already in existence a small Interparliamentary Group, and this must now be followed by a private peace society which might send its representatives to that year’s Peace Congress at Bern.
The hall where my reading had been announced as to be given had been long sold out, so that many demands for seats had to be refused. The Empress Frederick had engaged a row of places, but the death and funeral obsequies of her brother-in-law the Grand Duke of Hesse called her away from Berlin at that time.
The evening of the reading was successful—that is to say, I was received with applause and was applauded at the end; but I read altogether too softly, as I afterward heard. That the public and the critics gave me such a favorable reception in spite of that, I attributed to their sympathy with the cause which I represented.
Frédéric Passy sent a letter to me at Berlin, in which he pleaded for our cause with his usual eloquence. I handed the letter over to the editors of the Berliner Tageblatt, and it was published on the day after my reading with the following editorial comment:
Mr. Frédéric Passy, the president of the French Peace Society, a political economist whose high reputation is not confined to France, is a member of the Académie des Sciences and enjoys universal respect. If there were never any but such voices sounding over the Vosges from France, the cause of peace, of humanity, of the higher civilization, would soon have the victory. Let us hope that Mr. Passy’s eloquent words will waken in his own country also the universal response which they so thoroughly deserve.
A glittering picture of the dinner has remained in my memory. In the richly flower-decked banqueting-hall stood a table laid for two hundred and fifty guests. There was a preliminary gathering in side parlors, and there I made the acquaintance of a great number of literary colleagues of both sexes, and also found again many whom we had met seven years earlier at the Authors’ Convention; there were also parliamentarians, publicists, and other notabilities of Berlin. About ten o’clock Friedrich Spielhagen escorted me to the table, at which he presided. He it was, too, who pronounced the oration of the evening. After he had ended, my right-hand neighbor, Dr. Barth of the Reichstag, spoke. And now I had to express my thanks. A stenographer took down my maiden after-dinner speech, and I found it the next morning in the newspapers:
It is in joyful exhilaration that I express to you, Meister Spielhagen, and to you, Herr Dr. Barth, and to all the company who have done me the honor of gathering here, my deep-felt thanks. To be so acclaimed and by such persons—for those who entertain me are certainly among the foremost in the literary and political world here—must indeed fill any one’s heart with pride.
Indeed, if one feels, as I do, that this lavish homage so far exceeds the desert of her to whom it is offered, then must the wish be aroused to protest against it and to cry out: It is too much—take back the praise, take back the expression of such kindly sympathy! You fill me with happiness, but you fill me also with mortification.
Yet I can gather from your addresses that the reason why the honor conferred upon me so far exceeds the value of my performances and my person is that it does not really concern them, but the principles which I endeavor to serve. They are the same principles to which you, highly honored artists, representatives of the people, and publicists, devote your work and your works—the enfranchisement, ennoblement, and fraternization of civilized mankind. Those minstrels and legislators and journalists who pay homage to war and stir up national differences have assuredly remained absent from this banquet.
I trust that an echo from this festival so indescribably beautiful to me will make its way to all our fellow-citizens. By this I mean all, whatever nation they belong to, who strive for righteousness. All on this side or that side of the Rhine, this side or that side of the ocean, this side or that side of every other boundary of country or class—I could wish that these fellow-citizens of ours might learn how in the circle of the most intellectual men of the capital of the German Empire a simple woman, hitherto unknown to them, has been so brilliantly honored, merely on account of the will which she has manifested in the cause of peace. In giving me your approval for a book bearing the title “Away with Weapons,” in sanctioning my endeavor which took me to the Peace Congress at the Capitol, you coin that title into a watchword and recognize that endeavor as a legitimate ideal of civilization.
Thus understood, ladies and gentlemen, I joyfully accept all that you have said to me; thus understood, no enthusiasm is too impetuous for me, no love too warm, none of those who entertain me too high in rank and repute. With joy I take from your hands the roses and the wreaths, and—merely as an intermediary—lay them at the feet of the genius in whose name you have summoned me here. In this sense I am ready to drain my glass in the heartiest thanks to you who are present, and in brotherly greeting to the absent friends of peace in all nations, in the name of the whole table!
Albert Traeger spoke after me, and then, as a special surprise, the great tragedian Emanuel Reicher was called upon and read to us a translation of Maupassant’s short story La Mère Sauvage.
In the account given in the Berliner Tageblatt, from the pen of the editor in chief, it said:
It cannot be sufficiently reiterated that this festival has powerfully contributed to strengthen all who have at heart the blessings of international peace in their endeavor diligently to cultivate the humanitarian and civilizing might of the peace idea, without reference to the unfavorableness of the times and the tendencies of the day. Thus, then, the festival that was planned in honor of a single person may be considered as a link in the chain of phenomena by means of which the enlightened spirits of the century are seeking to build up the higher (kulturellen) interests of humanity.
Nevertheless, I must note that several Berlin newspapers spoke disparagingly of my appearance there in particular and of my aims in general, for the most part making reference to the so-often-cited saying of Moltke, “Perpetual peace is a dream and not even a beautiful one!” But even the antagonistic voices refrained from abuse and ridicule. That would not have been the case twenty or perhaps even ten years before. Then the whole matter would have been half laughed to death, half scolded to death,—or wholly smothered to death by silence.
We stayed in Berlin for a number of days, and these days were crowded with participation in conferences, talks, and plans for the establishment of a German Peace Society in Berlin. Yet nothing definitive resulted. Dr. M. Hirsch and Baumbach were in favor; Rickert disapproved.
Friedrich Spielhagen gave us a delightful reception at his house one evening before my reading took place. About forty persons were present. At the table I sat between the host and Albert Traeger. There I became acquainted with Ossip Schubin, Wolzogen, Stettenheim, Dahms, Wolff. A Prinz Reuss, an officer, asks for an introduction, and says in a modest way,—of course it was meant ironically,—
“I ought to be ashamed of being in uniform in your presence.”
I could not think of anything to say; later, on the stairs, some very appropriate answers occurred to me.
I also remember a Lucullus dinner which the proprietor of the Berliner Tageblatt, Rudolf Mosse, and his wife gave us in their splendid new palais. Frau Mosse, who was engaged in all sorts of philanthropic undertakings, often had the opportunity of talking with the Empress Frederick. She knew that the Empress would have been glad to hear me. The Empress had now returned from the funeral of the Grand Duke of Hesse, and on the next day Frau Mosse was to meet her at some kind of a function. She intended to ask her if she wished me to be presented to her. This would have been a great pleasure for me, because I cherished a deep respect for the widow of Frederick “the Noble.” But the following day I received a note from Frau Mosse stating that her plan had fallen through; her Majesty thought best to forego the pleasure—“from motives of prudence.”
Professor Wilhelm Meyer also invited us to inspect his “Urania,” and he did us the honors of all the sections, explaining the whole series of wonders in his poetically clear manner. “Those are the churches of the future,” I wrote in my diary at that time.
From Berlin we made an excursion to Hamburg. Hans Land accompanied us. My diary mentions drives among marvelously beautiful country establishments; a trip on the Elbe to Blankenese; meals in the famous Restaurant Pfordte; a performance of Der Vogelhändler in St. Paul’s Theater; and an evening tea at our rooms in the hotel. This made a vivid impression in my memory, for we had a very interesting little circle and the conversation was highly stimulating. Our guests, besides Hans Land and his sister and brother-in-law, were Dr. Löwenberg, Otto Ernst, and Detlev von Liliencron. Otto Ernst was not as yet the celebrated dramatist, but a simple school-teacher; yet he had with his Offenes Visier written himself on our hearts. Detlev von Liliencron was already at the height of his celebrity—the king of German lyric poets at that time. Certainly no pacifist; on the contrary, a strenuous, mettlesome advocate of war—but none the less admired by me. I welcomed the chance of making his acquaintance. His conversational talent was brilliant. I had corresponded with him some years before, expressing my admiration and sending him some of my husband’s writings. I insert his reply here:
Kellinghusen (Holstein), April 27, 1889
Gracious Baroness:
How gracious and kind of you—hearty thanks! Twice already I have been eager to write to you; first after reading Es Löwos, which I find so incomparable, and then after reading the Inventarium einer Seele. I did not do so especially because I thought you would not care to pile up still more correspondence. Now I have the privilege of offering you my sincerest thanks for both,—and how touching, heart-quickening and lovely is Es Löwos!
You, most gracious Baroness, and your husband are fighting together with us, the little band that there is of us, against the absolute bogging, the absolute collapse, of our literature. We who are living shall have no laurels,—scorn and ridicule are too strong,—but we have smoothed the way for our successors.
I have already heard so much about you from my friend Hermann Friedrichs, whom I honor so highly—if only he were not so gloomy. In political matters—I am very conservative, and am growing more so every day if possible—Friedrichs and I are antipodes. But in other respects we have many views in common.
You must be in the midst of springtime in your beautiful Lower Austria; in my cloudy and ever-damp home and in the loneliness in which I am compelled to live like a deaf-mute, scarcely a leaf is on its way.
I beg you most humbly to remember me most cordially to your husband. Daredjan[36]—wonderful.
I am the most gracious Baroness’s most obedient
Baron Detlev Liliencron
Captain retired
Well, between the date of that letter and our meeting in Hamburg three years had passed, during which the most gracious Baroness had chosen “Away with weapons” as a watchword, which probably went against the grain of the most obedient and conservative Captain retired. None the less we got along together all right.
From Hamburg we went home by way of Berlin again, but stopped there only from one train to another. During this delay we conferred once more with Dr. M. Hirsch, who promised that he would do his best to establish a Berlin Peace Union.
I have not yet told of one encounter which took place in those Berlin days. Because it was the one that made the deepest and most lasting impression on me, because it remained interwoven with my further thought and activity, I have reserved speaking of it to the end.
On the forenoon of the eighteenth of March—it was the day after my reading—we made the acquaintance of a man with whom we had already had intellectual relations for a long time,—Moritz von Egidy. I would remind the reader of his letter of November, 1891, which I quoted among the other documents addressed to me on the occasion of the Congress at Rome. Now I was to see face to face the man who had offered to join with me in “putting his hand to the latch of the gate that admits us to the age of completion.”
One forenoon during our stay in Berlin—I had just written to Egidy to ask when we might see him—his card was handed to us. He came in, and—but of this man, this creature of light who was snatched away all too soon from the world of his day, I will not speak incidentally, but devote a special chapter to him.