LIX
THE FIRST PEACE CONFERENCE AT THE HAGUE (continued)
J. Novikof · Reception at the Baroness Grovestins’s · Dr. Holls · Utterances of the nationalistic press · Excursion to Scheveningen · We give a small dinner · Threatening letter to Herr von Staal · At Ten Kate’s · Reports from Descamps · Beernaert on the Geneva Convention · Letter from Levysohn · Results in the matter of mediation · New acquaintances · First of Bloch’s evening lectures: subject, “The Development of Firearms” · Stead publishes a daily chronicle on the Conference · Young Vasily’s album · Removal to Scheveningen · Baron Pirquet brings a letter from the Interparliamentary Union of Brussels · Bloch’s second lecture: subject, “Mobilization” · My birthday · Dinner at Okoliczany’s · Lieutenant Pichon · Letters from aëronauts · Discussion on the permanent tribunal · President Kruger and Sir Alfred Milner · An amusing incident · Bloch’s third lecture: subject, “Naval Warfare” · A conversation with Léon Bourgeois · His call to Paris · False reports and denials · What Emperor Nicholas said to Stead · Rumor of the blocking of the arbitration business · Bloch’s final lecture: subject, “The War of the Future”
May 28. Novikof arrived. What kind of a man do you think is the author of sociological-philosophical works of seven hundred royal-octavo pages each, with such titles as Les luttes entre sociétés humaines et leurs phases successives, La théorie organique des sociétés, and the like? I have read these books and this is the idea of the man which I had in my mind: White bearded, with spectacles, in externalities a trifle neglectful of appearances,—for if a person sticks all day long poring over learned books and carries round socialistic problems in his head, he can scarcely be expected to bother himself with the petty vanities of the toilet; I imagined him very earnest but free from pedantry,—for his style is fresh and sparkling,—and probably a bit gloomy, for if one looks so searchingly into the motive powers of the world, has been busied so incessantly with the phenomena of wretchedness and suffering, a mood of melancholy might well be expected.
And the actual Novikof? An elegant man of the world, the jolliest of companions, with far too youthful an appearance for his forty-nine years; full of wit and entrain in his conversation. I believe these characteristics, charming as they are, injure him to a certain extent. Any one who has not read his books would not suspect what a man he is, would not take up the reading of them with that feeling of awe with which one should bury one’s self in scientific works.
In the forenoon a reception at the house of the Baroness Grovestins. Almost all the delegates are present. On the stairs I meet Count Münster and his daughter. In the drawing-room the family of the Chinese delegate forms the center of a numerous group. Madame Yang wears the selfsame coiffure as at the court, the same paper flowers down her temples, and though it is daytime she is painted like a mask, just as if she were under a chandelier. And yet there is a touch of lovableness in her pretty little face. Her gestures when she extends her hand are something like a wooden doll’s; but then she shakes the hand of the other person so heartily that it seems to mean, “For life, old comrade!” Her son of twelve and her little daughter of eight, both also in Chinese costume, accompany her, and they bear the brunt of the conversation, for they speak both English and French.
These children will not be brought up as pure, unadulterated Chinese. Behind their wall lies henceforth for them a piece of the world,—a world, moreover, in which all nations are joined to treat together in the name of universal peace; this idea will remain all their lives bound up with the recollection of the sweetmeats which Fräulein von Grovestins, with pretty speeches, offers them on a Delft plate. Gradually all Chinese walls—there are others than that one which bounds the Middle Kingdom—will fall. We already see them tottering.
Make new acquaintances, among them Dr. Holls, the second American delegate.[35] He sits down with me on a small corner sofa. We talk German together. He is by profession a lawyer in New York; comes from a German-American family; has a tall, thick-set, angular figure, and his eyebrows are outlined high on his forehead like circumflex accents. He confirms the news that I have heard from Stead. He informs me that public interest in the Conference is nowhere else so keen as in his own country. Cablegrams are received every day; resolutions and letters of sympathy come from all the states and from the most diverse circles. Each one of these messages is gratefully acknowledged, and they not only are instrumental in strengthening the American delegates but also make a strong impression on the representatives of other countries, who cannot fail to see in this interest displayed by the Republic of the West a significant sign of the times. I express my regret that this information does not immediately make the round of the European press.
“Yes,” assents Holls, “the exclusion of journalists was a great mistake. The majority of the European states are represented here by diplomats who see in mystery and secrecy the factors of successful diplomacy. We Americans and a few others were opposed to it—but the majority decided. Now it may result that the representatives of the great newspapers will feel insulted and go away—a few have already done so. Their editors will retaliate by belittling or ignoring the Conference.”
May 29. By way of exception, no party. Spend the evening at home with a group of friends,—Fried, the Grelix couple, the painter Ten Kate, and Novikof. We get a scornful satisfaction in reading aloud a package of extracts from the German nationalistic press.
As the various Neueste Nachrichten and the various Lokalanzeiger in Berlin, Leipzig, Dresden, Munich, and elsewhere comment on the Conference, we find unqualified such expressions as “The disgusting drama at The Hague,” “The Conference of Absurdities,” “The noxious nuisance now under way, which must arouse righteous indignation in all right-thinking men and genuine Germans,” “For the development of universal history the comedy at The Hague will signify about as much as a visit from ‘Charley’s Aunt’ would signify in the life of a single individual.”
And even Vorwärts (et tu, Brute!)—which is not nationalistic but scouts the Conference because it was called together by an autocrat and is composed of aristocrats and bourgeois—even Vorwärts writes: “How long will the augurs restrain themselves before they burst out into Homeric laughter and separate amid the laughter of the world?”
Give heed, ye contemporaries! If ye fail to take seriously such a serious work of beneficence, and to remind those who are engaged in it—even though there be among them men of contrary opinion—of the seriousness of their task, to hold them responsible for its accomplishment, to take them at their word,—take care, I say, lest ye yourselves have to repent not amid the laughter but amid the tears of the world!
May 30. Excursion to Scheveningen. From the city, which lies in the midst of a garden, you drive a couple of miles through avenues lined all the way with trees, like a park, down to the seashore. Along the way, to right and left, are multitudes of villas behind flowering gardens. In Scheveningen itself, along the shore, multitudes of hotels. Everything as yet is deserted. A cold, salty wind blows from the North Sea, which under a gray sky rolls in gray billows. The wicker chairs are not yet brought down on the beach and the bathing machines are not in their accustomed places. On the broad terrace of the Kurhaus, around the silent music pavilion, already stand countless rows of tables and chairs, but all unoccupied. On the sea no ships or boats are to be seen; the bathing season does not seem to be open yet even for the sea gulls.
Only a few carriages and pedestrians enliven the beach and the streets. Scheveningen is indeed for all the residents of The Hague, and now specially for the members of the Conference, a general goal for promenading. We exchange greetings with many acquaintances. Our fellow-countryman, Count Welsersheimb, has come down on his bicycle, and chats with us as he wheels for some distance beside our carriage. Herr von Okoliczany, accompanied by his slender daughter, rides by. The Chinese flag is seen waving over the Hotel Oranje; Yang-Yü, with his family, is the only delegate who has already left The Hague and taken up his residence at Scheveningen.
All those dikes, those structures! How painstaking and courageous the Dutch people have been in rescuing their land from the waters! Those are battles worthy of men—against the weight and the wrath of the elements. Should the dike-building against the wrath of our fellow-men be alone unaccomplishable?
We gave a small dinner, the party consisting of Rahusen, president of the Chamber; Von Khuepach, the Austrian military delegate; the second Russian delegate, Vasily[36]; Novikof, Bloch, and we three,—a small circle at a round table, the most advantageous arrangement for general and animated conversation. When the coffee was brought, we were joined by the correspondent of the Neue Freie Presse, Dr. Frischauer, whom I had invited, but who was prevented from coming sooner.
After dinner a soirée at the Karnebeeks’. Frau von Staal tells me, in the course of a conversation, how her husband is besieged every day with addresses, memoranda, pamphlets, and deputations from all parts of the world.
“And I suppose with numberless letters also, many of them right crazy ones?”
“Oh, yes, even with threatening letters! Anonymous warnings that there is a plan on foot to assassinate him.”
“Why! that is horrible! How does Herr von Staal take that?”
“He smiles at it!”
The artist Ten Kate to-day gives us a jolly dinner at the hotel Twe Steeden, where he lives during his sojourn at The Hague—his own home is the estate Epé. His lovely wife does the honors. Among the guests are Mesdames von Waszklewicz and Selenka, Herr von Bloch, Novikof, Dr. Trueblood, and A. H. Fried,—in short, a little Peace Congress in itself; and it is still more a Peace Congress when after dinner the door opens and in comes the Chevalier Descamps.
“Excuse the intrusion,” he exclaims; “my rooms are situated above this dining-room. Your jolly voices reached me up there, and when I asked who were celebrating a wedding downstairs I learned who were here, and so I come, uninvited, but as the bringer of good tidings; we had a splendid session to-day.”
He is surrounded and interrogated. He tells us the third committee has been that very afternoon wrestling with the question of the arbitration tribunal, and indeed, as Descamps assures us, in a very satisfactory manner. The plan broached in the well-known “memorandum to the governments” has been taken as a basis of the new scheme; and the firm intention of the majority of the members of the committee to bring the matter to a positive result was manifested in that session. Descamps himself has been intrusted with the report on the project. So the matter is certainly in good hands.
A call from Beernaert and his wife. He tells me with satisfaction the result of the session from which he has just come. The second committee, of which he is chairman, has voted to recommend the Brussels Treaty (an extension of the Geneva Convention of 1864).
“It delights me that you are delighted,” I replied, “but I tell you frankly that the question of the humanization of war—especially in a Peace Congress—cannot interest me. The business concerns the codification of peace. Saint George rode forth to kill the dragon, not merely to trim its claws. Or, as Frédéric Passy says, On n’humanise pas le carnage, on le condamne, parce qu’on s’humanise” (“Carnage is not humanized, it is condemned because men grow more human”).
“Vous êtes une intransigeante—an irreconcilable,” he remarks with a smile, and consoles me with the simultaneous progress of the Conference on the arbitration question, of which I know he is the steadfast promoter.
I received the following letter from the editor of the Berliner Tageblatt, to whom I had expressed my regret and astonishment that no correspondence from the Conference was to be found in a paper of such wide circulation:
Berlin, May 31, 1899
My dear Baroness:
Your kind letter of yesterday’s date compels me to inform you that, in the first place, we are not unrepresented at the Hague Congress, so that we are informed of everything necessary and worth knowing; and, in the second place, that, in view of the hostile treatment the members of the Congress have seen fit to accord the press, I consider it unbecoming to degrade journalism by dancing attendance on the various statesmen.
Since the gentlemen, nevertheless, can only by the aid of publicity show any proof of their industry and their good behavior,—a proof which they must have to show to their superiors,—I quietly wait until things come to me, and communicate to my readers only what is worth their knowing.
If such a man as Mr. Stead complains that nothing is told him, you will easily comprehend that men who are not accustomed to be received by the Tsar feel somewhat cool toward the actions of diplomacy.
All this will not prevent me from joyously recognizing even the slightest advance toward better things made during the deliberations of the Congress, but I consider my paper and my readers too good to snap up the crumbs that may fall from the news table of the Congress.
I trust that you will be able to appreciate this attitude of an independent and liberal newspaper, and that you will not, after this statement, find anything strange in our position.
With the expression of the most especial consideration I have the honor of remaining
Yours most sincerely
Dr. Artur Levysohn
An unwarranted standpoint. Events of the day have to be communicated by the press in accordance with their significance and entirely apart from the sensibilities of the journalists. Consideration for the public must turn the scale.
To-day the bathing season and the Kurhaus at Scheveningen were opened. Herr von Bloch invited us to a dinner at the Kurhaus. Among those present were the journalists, Dillon and Dr. Frischauer. He tells us, from information communicated to him by Professor Martens, that the principle of mediation has been incorporated into the text of the Convention; especially the duty of neutral states to offer “good offices” at the threat of war or after the outbreak of hostilities, and this henceforth shall never be regarded as an “unfriendly act.” Count Nigra is to be thanked for this last paragraph.
June 2. Dr. Frischauer takes his departure. He comes to say good-by to us, and authorizes me to send to the Neue Freie Presse in the form of telegrams and letters everything interesting that may happen.
In the evening the usual Friday reception at the Beauforts. Make several new acquaintances; among them Turkhan Pasha. In his elegant external appearance he reminds me of Rudolf Hoyos; he has been for many years Minister of Foreign Affairs, and bears the title of Vizier. He enjoyed the dubious fortune of having been military governor of the island of Crete. He speaks the purest French, is courteous and gracious, but a slightly satirical tone dominates his conversation.
I also meet Noury Bey, the second Turkish delegate, a man at least forty years of age, with very delicate features and reddish beard; he is inspector in the Ministry of Public Works. Last year he was sent as delegate from Turkey to the anti-anarchist Congress at Rome. Both the Ottoman dignitaries give me the impression of not regarding the success of the business here as especially likely or desirable.
Chedomille Myatovic, former Servian Minister of Foreign Affairs and now Minister Plenipotentiary at London, is on the other hand an enthusiastic adherent of the ends proposed by the Conference.
Augustin d’Ornellos Vasconsellos, the delegate from Portugal, tells me that he has translated Goethe’s Faust into his vernacular.
I meet De Mier, Mexican ambassador in Paris. Except the United States and Mexico, no American country is represented here.
June 3. The evening of Bloch’s lecture. The public invited. Almost all the delegates present. Many journalists, Dutch and foreign. Subject, “The Development of Firearms.” Behind the lecturer’s desk a white background for the stereopticon pictures. Bloch speaks with great naturalness and simplicity; never seeks oratorical effects. It is evident that he does not care to “deliver an address,” but only to say what he has to say. He wants to show a picture of the war of the future. And where would he find a more suitable public than the audience assembled here,—diplomats and military men who would be called upon to deliberate over some such war or to wage it, but are now called upon to avoid it?
The historic development of firearms, from the first flintlock down to the latest models, is displayed before the audience by means of pictures and charts. The projectile of the new infantry weapon sweeps away everything that it encounters, within a range of six hundred meters. But still greater improvements beckon. In all armies experiments are being made with rifles of smaller caliber. It is calculated that if in the Franco-Prussian War the present-day guns had been used, the losses would have been at least four times as great; if the newest models had been used, the losses would have been thirteen times as great. To be sure, such a transformation in the armies of the Dreibund and of the Zweibund would cost four billion francs.
(Now, in view of such a fine result—just consider, thirteen times more dead and maimed than with the primitive musket—four billions would not indeed be too much, and this sum is easily raised by somewhat increasing the living expenses of the laboring people!)
That parenthesis is mine, not Bloch’s. His lecture is quite objective; he makes no bitter attacks; he adduces figures and data; the drawing of conclusions he leaves to the reason and the conscience of his hearers.
The lecture is interrupted by a half hour’s recess. In an adjoining hall, tables are loaded with all kinds of refreshments, which are passed round. Bloch is host, and the lecture halls are transformed into drawing-rooms, where greetings are exchanged, new acquaintances are made, and impressions of the lecture are compared.
June 5. The editor of the Dagblad has granted Stead the first pages of his paper for the publication of a daily chronicle of the Conference. To-day the first number appeared. Excellently prepared. Will be of great use. A splendid man, this Stead. First his nine months’ campaign in writing and speaking, and now this labor!
A seventeen-year-old son of Vasily’s calls on me. He brings an album, on the cover of which appears in relief the word “Pax,” and he is getting all the members of the Conference and the friends of peace who are here to write their names in it. How many high military officers will immortalize themselves in the Pax album! And the impression made on this youth will certainly never be effaced. In what an entirely different way the generation that will succeed us will approach the idea of universal peace—they who will have been witnesses of this idea rising up and forcing its way into official circles and into the foreground of contemporary history. In our youth such a thing was either quite unknown or made a matter of ridicule. If this boy who is making a collection of contemporary autographs under the rubric “Pax” shall sometime obtain office and honors, perhaps have to speak a weighty word in the political questions of the future, then he will think very differently from our grizzled politicians about the cause of national justice, and if at that day a new official Peace Congress should be called, in which he and his like should have to give their votes, then the proceedings would be attended by many less doubts and difficulties than can possibly be the case with the present Conference, the first of its kind.
June 6. We move down to Scheveningen to the Hotel Kurhaus. It does not take us long to get settled. At the end of two hours our corner drawing-room looks as cozy as if it had been occupied for two years—thanks to the kindness of the manager, Herr Goldbeck, who permits us to arrange everything in our rooms just as we please. The prettiest furniture of the as yet rather empty hotel is put entirely at our service. Great studio windows occupy nearly all of two walls. One, opposite the door, frames a picture of the sea; at the other the red silken shades are pulled down and cause the whole room to be bathed in a ruddy glow. Flowers in vases, in jardinières, and in pots; splendid baskets of fruit, pineapples, melons, grapes,—the last a delicate attention of Herr von Bloch’s; books, pamphlets, maps, newspapers.
At yesterday’s session M. Descamps reported on the work of the committee. Léon Bourgeois presided. How pleasant that now Stead’s chronicle contains all these details of the sessions and the authentic texts of the articles proposed. Now one can follow the course of events quite accurately. An agreement has been reached regarding several articles of the Russian proposal concerning good offices and mediation.
Only there stands in the articles the fatal clause, “If circumstances permit.” Here is clearly seen the result of compromise, which is generally contained in the text of resolutions of such committees, composed of advocates and opponents of any cause. Only under the condition of a rider which robs the main article of its universal validity will those of the other party give up their opposition. The back door is saved, and that is the main thing with them.
Arrival of Baron Pirquet. He has been in Brussels, where the council of the Interparliamentary Union held a session in order to lay out a programme for the Conference that is to take place in August at Christiania; and he brings a letter from the Union to the colleagues that are attending the Hague Congress.
Pirquet breaks the news to me that my cousin Christian Kinsky, in whose house we had spent so many pleasant hours, had died suddenly a few days before.
In the evening Bloch’s second lecture. He depicts the difficulties that would attend the mobilization of the modern millionfold armies. After the first fortnight of a war of the future a tenth part of the armies—not counting the wounded—would be in the hospitals. He also cites a statement made by General Haeseler: “If the improvement of firearms continues, there will not be enough survivors to bury the dead.”
This lecture, like the first, was interrupted by a recess for conversation and refreshments. We talked with Léon Bourgeois about events in Paris. There, it seems, a band of young men of title (Boni de Castellane and others) attacked the President’s hat with their canes. Bourgeois grants that this is disgusting; “but,” he adds, “it is no more dangerous than the foam on the seashore.”
June 7. At yesterday’s session the deliberations of the first committee (on the laws of war, weapons, etc.) had the floor. Concerning this I make no entry in my diary. The securing and organizing of peace have nothing to do with the regulation of war, nothing at all—quite the contrary! It is desired—that is, it is desired by many—that the opposition between the two ends be abolished; they desire that the one be substituted in place of the other! They are driving in the wedge that shall split the work of peace.
Imagine a congress convened for the enfranchisement of slaves; would a convention then be necessary in regard to the treatment of the negroes, concerning, for instance, the number of blows that might be meted out to them when they should show themselves lazy in the work of the sugar plantations?
Or in the movement against torture as a means of securing justice, would the agreement that the oil to be dropped into the victim’s ears should be heated only to thirty degrees instead of up to the boiling point have been a stage on the way to the goal, or rather a tarrying on that other way which was to be abandoned?
June 9. My Own waked me with a kiss and a warm “I thank thee!”
“What for?”
“That thou wert born!”
Yes, quite right,—it is my birthday. That does not interest me, but what is going to be born here,—national justice; that takes my whole mind captive. Yesterday was devoted to the work of the third committee on Article X of the proposal for a court of arbitration,—namely, the article that shall determine the cases in which appeal to the court of arbitration is to be obligatory, cases which “do not touch either vital interests or the honor of states.” There again the back door, or rather a barn door, for the entrance of war. He has good defenders here, the brutal fellow!
Great dinner at the residence of our ambassador, Okoliczany. My neighbors are the Russian chargé d’affaires and M. Pichon, assistant secretary of the French Delegation,—a young lieutenant with a saucy little mustache. But he has understanding, and sympathy for our cause, and is a great admirer of D’Estournelles. He acknowledges that the world is progressing, and that a coming civilization will have no more room for war; only he defends the colonial policy of war. He himself has been in the Sudan.
June 10. It is hard for me to keep up with my correspondence. I have never before in the course of a whole year received so many letters, telegrams, and voluminous writings as now, while I am here at The Hague. They announce schemes, proposals, infallible methods for securing peace. And all of this I am expected to make comprehensible to the delegates! Inventors of airships and flying machines send me their plans and prospectuses. By the conquest of the atmosphere the boundaries with their customhouses and fortifications must needs disappear, opine these aëronautical letter writers.
Or is it true that the ministers of war are hurrying to build air fleets? and to form flying regiments of uhlans? All new inventions are invariably employed by the war authorities. And yet I am firmly persuaded that every technical improvement, especially all means of easier communication, ultimately lead to universal peace.
Yesterday the arbitration committee took up Article XIII of the Russian plan, calling for immediate consideration of the question of a permanent tribunal, and that, too, of a tribunal not merely in posse but in esse.
While they are here treating theoretically about arbitration, it is said that the matter is to be put to a practical test once again. President Kruger has proposed to Sir Alfred Milner that certain differences of opinion should be submitted to arbitration. Sir Alfred objected that such an action would put in question England’s sovereignty.
June 11. At the Grovestins’s Sunday reception something amusing happened to me. A Spanish lady, Señora Perez, asked me what I thought of peace. I must have made a dubious face, for she anticipated my answer, saying, “Do not decide, I beg of you, until you have read a book entitled Die Waffen nieder. Have you heard of it?”
“Oh, yes, until I am sick of it.”
“Oh, no, no; first read it, and then express your opinion. The author is said to be at The Hague.”
“The author is sitting next you.”
As so often happens, Señora Perez had missed my name when we were introduced.
Bloch gives a small dinner at the Hotel Royal. After dinner we drive to his third lecture. Subject, “Naval Warfare.” The fate of wars is decided not at sea but on land. Between two evenly matched fleets there will be no decisive victory, but mutual destruction of the fleets. The impossibility of protecting marine commerce in times of war. Comparison of the expenses for the fleet with the value of commerce; the pretended protection costs a hundred times more than the worth of what is protected.
Count Nigra sits near me. Bloch’s deductions greatly interest him. We speak of the results to be expected.
“The world finds it hard to understand,” said Nigra, “how momentous are the foundations here being laid for the building of the future; nor does it understand that the calling of the Conference is in itself an event of supreme importance.”
During the intermission an alarming rumor circulates, to the effect that in the debate about the court of arbitration the “dead point” was reached,—a decisive opposition on the part of one of the great powers.
June 12. During the morning our quiet excursion in celebration of our twenty-third wedding anniversary. In the evening a few guests at dinner,—Bihourd, the French ambassador at The Hague, Captain Sheïn, of the Russian navy, Léon Bourgeois, Bloch, and Theodor Herzl.
I hardly ever had a more interesting table companion than Bourgeois. What made our conversation so particularly enjoyable was our complete agreement in matters concerning peace. The former—and perhaps the future, who knows?—French Premier is enthusiastic for the objects of the Conference. The task which he has to fulfill here seems to him far more productive and important than the formation of a cabinet. In Paris a ministerial crisis is at hand and Bourgeois will probably be recalled; but he firmly intends to return so as to bring to an end to the best of his ability the work here, “which promises to be useful to the world and at the same time to his fatherland.”
We talk among other things of the French national press. I regret the hectoring tone, especially in that portion of the press which the people at large read.
“That is not so bad,” he replies. “Nowhere else