XLIV
VARIOUS INTERESTING LETTERS
Increase of correspondence · Countess Hedwig Pötting · Gift from Duke von Oldenburg · Schloss Erlaa · The duke’s consort · Peace efforts of Prince Peter von Oldenburg thirty years ago · Letter from this prince to Bismarck · Letter from Björnstjerne Björnson
My public activity brought numberless voices from all parts of the world into my house. Signed or anonymous letters; letters from my own country; letters from other parts of Europe and from beyond the sea; letters with explosions of admiration or of coarseness; letters requesting information or making all sorts of propositions for the surest and speediest attainment of our object,—a farmer proposed a special manure system, which, through the creation of good harvests and the consequent enrichment of the people, would unquestionably lead to national peace; manuscripts of from ten to a hundred pages, containing treatises on the problem of war; offers of lifelong zeal in the service of the cause, if only the person might be assured a satisfactory sum in compensation for giving up his profession,—all this sort of thing came to me by mail in ever-increasing proportions.
Of course it was not possible for me to answer them all, and this the more because I had not ceased to carry on my literary labors; at that time I was writing my novel Die Tiefinnersten, and My Own, who assisted me as much as he could in my correspondence and in editing the review, was working at a second sequel to his Kinder des Kaukasus.
Many of the letters were really so interesting that they could not be left unanswered. One day, after the evening meeting of the Peace Society, which had been held under my chairmanship, I got such a beautiful letter, glowing with such genuine enthusiasm, that the desire awoke in me to become acquainted with the writer. The signature was that of one of my own rank, also a canoness, and this very circumstance astonished me. It is not consonant with the nature of the aristocratic women of Austria, particularly of the elder canonesses (Chorschwestern) of the nunneries, to be enthusiastic in behalf of politically revolutionary ideas, and to give spontaneous and frank utterance to such enthusiasm. So I answered the letter by going myself to the writer’s residence, and, as I did not find her at home, I left my card with a few hearty words on it.
The following day she hastened to me, and as a result we formed a cordial friendship. To-day I have no dearer friend than the Countess Hedwig Pötting, and Hedwig has no truer friend than I. We absolutely understood each other. And an equally profound mutual understanding arose between her and my husband. Her views so absolutely coincided with his, that they came to the conclusion they must have been brother and sister in some previous incarnation, and they called each other Siriusbruder and Siriusschwester.
Intimate friendship rarely exists without nicknames, and so I used to be called, not only by Hedwig but also by My Own, not Bertha but Löwos, and I used to call Hedwig die Hex (the witch). That does not sound very friendly, but as it was the pet name which her own idolized mother—a splendid old lady of clear and open mind—called her by, I also adopted it. Die Hex helped me faithfully in my life work; she became one of the officers of the Union; she adapted my novel, Die Waffen nieder, for young people under the title Marthas Tagebuch (“Martha’s Diary”); she gave me much useful counsel; and in many trying hours was a support and comfort to me.
“Yesterday at Erlaa received a very valuable gift”; this entry I find in my diary of May, 1894. Erlaa is the name of a castle in the vicinity of Vienna, occupied by Duke Elimar von Oldenburg and his family. There we were often invited to dinner. The castle is surrounded by a splendid park, and I remember how, during that May time, the intoxicating perfume of elder blossoms poured in at the open terrace doors, and what a sweet tumult thousands of songsters made in the shrubbery. The duke’s consort—she was called duchess from courtesy, but, inasmuch as she was morganatically married, she had only the baronial title—was a striking personage of tall, overslender, willowy figure. Being very musical, she delighted in attracting artists into her house, and she herself, as well as the duke, used to spend many evenings at the piano and melodeon, or with the violin and cello. The duchess—since every one gave her that title, I will call her so too—was not particularly well disposed to me. I discovered that afterwards. Coming from a sternly puritanic family, she found my free religious views rather repugnant to her. I have letters from her in which she attempted to convert me to stricter articles of faith; but I learned through remarks that she made to others that she accused me of “materialism,” that my novel Die Tiefinnersten had particularly displeased her, because in it—according to her idea—I ridiculed everything ideal, profound, or sacred. Now the novel ridicules only the stilted and mystical style of those who are always making use of the words “profound” and “inmost,” when they cannot find anything clear to say.
The circumstances connected with the gift mentioned in my diary were these: in the course of a conversation at table, when the subject of peace was mooted, the duke said to me: “I am not the first one of my family, baroness, to be interested in your cause. My father’s brother, Prince Peter von Oldenburg, worked in his day for the abolition of war. Although on his mother’s side he was grandson of the Emperor Paul, and although he held the rank of a general in the Russian infantry and was at the head of the Stavodub regiment of dragoons, he was a militant friend of peace. He did not regard the matter simply as an ideal and as a dream to be realized in centuries to come, but worked strenuously to bring it about; he traveled from court to court, laid his ideas before the Queen of England and the King of Prussia; yet at that time, thirty years ago, his efforts remained fruitless....”
“What!” I exclaimed; “and nobody heard anything about it!”
“My uncle kept on resolutely with his efforts,” continued the duke. “I possess the draft of a letter addressed to Bismarck in 1873, in which he set forth his ideas,—also without result.”
“Oh, if I might see that letter!”
“It has never been published, but you shall have a copy of it.”
With the heartiest thanks I accepted the gift. Here is the letter written to the aged Chancellor:
Your Serene Highness:
Fearing that I may have no opportunity for a serious conversation with you during your busy sojourn in St. Petersburg, I am bold enough to present in writing what, by word of mouth, would probably be less explicit and evident.
My letters to your gracious sovereign, as well as my application to M. Thiers and the steps that I have taken in trying to induce my imperial master to assure the peace of Europe forever, are well known to your Highness. With the same object in view I applied to the ex-Emperor Napoleon in the year 1863, and I have reason to believe that during and after Sedan he must have regretted having acted in opposition to my views and those of so many other right-thinking men.
Who knows better than your Serene Highness the situation of Europe and Germany? Is it satisfactory or not? The answer to this question I leave to the great statesman whose name will be immortal in the history of the world.
Surely every right-thinking person was rejoiced at the meeting of the three emperors in Berlin. The visit of your Emperor at St. Petersburg strengthens the opinion that a guaranty for peace is to be found in the friendship of two powerful imperial states existing side by side. But how contradictory to the peace idea are the enormous military establishments of all states! Even Russia is now introducing the Prussian system of universal conscription, and, although the Prussians regard this as a guaranty of peace, yet that increase of the army and of the military budget is a heavy burden for Russia, diminishing its resources for prosperity.
During my visit with M. Thiers in Versailles last year he said to me:
“Que voulez-vous que nous fassions? Nous sommes les faibles, les vaincus, mais du moment qu’il y aura des propositions de désarmement de la part des vainqueurs, nous sommes prêts à entrer en négociations.”[6]
I reported this conversation to my emperor and wrote as follows to yours:
“A solemnly serious, fateful moment has come. In the scales of Destiny the mighty word of the German Emperor is of heavy weight. The history of the world is the tribunal of the world (Die Weltgeschichte ist das Weltgericht). William the Victorious is chosen by the God of battles to bear the immortal name of the Blessed, as founder of peace.”
This historical mission he shall and must fulfill: God has aided him to make the volcanic center of revolutions harmless for a long time to come, and, we hope, forever. Now it must be his task to extirpate en principe the root of evil, the highest potency of sin,—war; for never will a permanent prosperity obtain on earth as long as governments (1) act contrary to Christianity; (2) stand in the way of true civilization.
What, according to the notions of the law, is the essential characteristic of the civis? Obedience to the laws. But war is a disorganization of legal conditions; therefore it is the renunciation of civilization. In the present circumstances civilization is only an illusion, consisting purely of intelligence for material objects, such as railways, telegraphs, and the invention of instruments of annihilation.
After the tremendous successes of the German arms in the last war the question arises, with whom and for what object shall any other war be waged? Prussia’s position in Germany and vis-à-vis to Austria and Denmark is clear; Italy united; France harmless and on good terms with Russia,—all this is a guaranty of peace.
What problem, then, is before us now? That of combating revolutionary, communistic, democratic ideas, that are opposed to religion, the monarchical principle, and the social foundation of the State.[7] Subversive ideas, however, are not overcome by bayonets, but by means of wise ideas and regulations, which must proceed only from those who reign by the grace of God and are chosen by Providence to establish the happiness of nations.
The peace idea would be the very best means of meeting the French idea of revenge. Although the French are not to be relied on as a nation, I am persuaded that the notion of a perpetual peace would nevertheless appear plausible to the propertied and intelligent mass of the population, even if the government conducted by M. Thiers should be supplanted by another; for the motto of the French is gagner pour jouir, and I believe that the mass of the population would prefer jouissance rather than gloire.
Even in Prussia the multitudinous lawsuits against persons who try to get rid of compulsory service show how many feel that it is a burden; and God forbid that the alleviation should ever proceed from below instead of from above.
The latest history of Russia is an edifying example of what the will of a noble, humane, and magnanimous monarch can do to benefit his people. So when two monarchs, related by race and friendship, clasp hands, may God aid them to make their union a blessing for their countries and for suffering mankind.
In my memorial to your emperor I said, “Only a fool or a knave can think of a state without an armed force”; and in my letter to M. Thiers I wrote, abolir la force armée serait une idée criminelle et insensée.
One cannot express one’s self more energetically on this point. In Prussia, to abolish a system to which it owes its historical position would be as imbecile as for Russia to think of holding the Poles in control and of protecting the tremendous frontier from the Black Sea to the Pacific Ocean against savage tribes, without an army. The question, therefore, is simply this: What numerical extension should one give to the principle of universal compulsory service, and in what proportion should the military budget stand to the other expenditures of the State?
In my humble opinion it should be thus regulated:
1. En principe abolish war between civilized nations and let the governments guarantee to each other the possession of their respective territories.
2. Settle questions at issue by an international commission of arbitration, after the example of England and America.
3. Determine the strength of armaments (die Stärke der bewaffneten Macht) by an international convention.
Even should the abolition of war be relegated by many to the domain of fairy tales, I nevertheless have the courage to believe that therein lies the only means of saving the Church, the monarchical principle, and society, and of curing the State of the cancerous evil which at the present time is preventing its perfection; and, on the other hand, through the reduction of the war budget, of procuring for the State the following means for its internal development and prosperity: (1) reduction of taxes; (2) improvement in education and promotion of science and art; (3) increase in salaries, especially of teachers and the clergy; (4) improvement in the condition of the laboring classes; (5) provision for beneficent objects.
The accomplishment of such lofty, purely Christian, and humane ideas, proceeding directly from two such mighty monarchs, would be the most glorious victory over the principle of evil; a new era of blessing would begin; one cry of jubilation would ring through the universe and find a response among the angels of heaven. If God is on my side, who can be against me, and what worldly power could resist those who would act in the name of the Lord?
This is the humble opinion of a man growing old, heavily tried by fate, one who, not fearing the opinions of the world or its criticism, looking to God and eternity, merely following the voice of his conscience, seeks nothing else on this earth than a quiet grave beside his dear ones who have gone before.
Dixi et salvavi animam meam.
With the highest consideration, I have the honor of being
Your Serene Highness’s most devoted servant
Peter, Prinz von Oldenburg
St. Petersburg, April 15 (27), 1873
What answer Bismarck gave, or whether he replied at all, Duke Elimar did not know.
There is surely nothing more interesting than such old authentic letters. They show how ideas later become facts, and how events which afterwards develop were, long before, thoughts in men’s minds. Here I find also among my correspondence the following letter from Björnson. In view of the disunion of the Scandinavian countries, which eventuated ten years later, it assumes a quite especial significance:
Schwaz, Tirol, July 20, 1894
My dear Comrade:
—But be consoled; when Norway becomes mistress of her external affairs (this is the object of the struggle) we shall go immediately to Russia and demand a permanent court of arbitration for all disagreements. If that succeeds,—and why should it not?—we will proceed to all other matters. As soon as our relationship to Sweden permits of it, we shall transform our army into an internal police force.
One example is stronger than a thousand apostles! The great majority of the Norwegians have wholly lost belief in the beneficence of armaments and are ready to set the example.
At the same time Sweden is arming on a scale quite extraordinary for a people not rich. The general feeling in Sweden—so I am told—threatens Norway with war, merely because Norway desires to have charge of its own affairs.
Sweden might educate us by means of war to be good comrades in arms! It would be the first time in history that the two great opposites had stood in such blunt opposition,—on the one side a permanent court of arbitration for all eventual quarrels, and no army any more; on the other side, war to compel us to keep a larger army and to enter a firmer military alliance.
But I trust that the struggle will end peaceably; I trust that the general feeling in Norway in favor of the principle of “arbitration instead of war” is also making progress in Sweden. In fact, already the spirit of freedom in Norway—to the great annoyance of the highly conservative court of the Swedish nobility and other great lords who are powerful there—has spread widely in Sweden.
Accept my heartiest congratulations and gratitude, my dear Baroness; were it not so far, I would come and make you a visit!
Your most devoted
Björnstjerne Björnson