'Was,' I said. 'I happen to know that he was relieved of his professorship because of those very dominating qualities you value so much.'

'That is regrettable; but, you see, in Germany we follow the train of events in your country. Who has a larger audience than Munsterberg?

In the things of the mind we Germans must lead.'

In my opinion, it is best for a diplomatist--at least for a man who is in the avocation of diplomacy--to be satisfied with _l'eloquence de l'escalier_. If he writes memoirs he can always put in the repartee he intended to make; and, if he does not, he can always think, too, with satisfaction of what he was almost clever enough to say! It was enough to have discovered one thing--that, with a large number of the ruling cla.s.ses in the Fatherland, the Monroe Doctrine was looked on as an iridescent bubble. Many times afterwards this fact was emphasised.

The Austrians were not always so careful as the Germans to save, when it came to democracy, American susceptibilities. They were always easy to get on with, provided one remembered that even to the most discerning among them, the United States, 'America' as they always called it, was an unknown land.

As for Count Dionys Szechenyi, the Minister of Austria-Hungary, he was the most genial of colleagues, and he had no sympathy with tyranny of any kind; he had no illusions as to America.

His wife is a Belgian born, Countess Madeleine Chimay de Caraman. He was always careful not to touch on 'Prussianism,' as the Danes called the principle of German domination. He had many subjects of conversation, from portrait buying to transactions in American steel and, what had its importance in those days, a good dinner. At his house one met occasionally men who liked to be frank, and then these Austro-Hungarians were a delightful group. 'If we should be involved in a war with England--which is unthinkable, since King Edward and our Amba.s.sador, Count Mensdorff would never allow it--I could not buy my clothes in London,' said one very regretfully.

This Austrian magnate heard with unconcealed amus.e.m.e.nt the German talk of 'democracy.' 'Max Harden is sincere, but a puppet; he helps the malcontents to let off steam; the German Government will never allow another _emeute_ like that of 1848. Bismarck taught the Government how to be really imperial. In Austria we are frankly autocratic, but not so new as the Prussian. We wear feudalism like an old glove. There are holes in it, of course, and Hungary is making the holes larger. If the Hungarians should have their way, there would be no more _majorats_, no more estates that can be kept in families; and that will be the end of our feudalism.

'As it is, things are uncomfortable enough, but a war would mean a break-up. What do you Americans expect for Max Harden and his _Zukunft_--exile and suppression as soon as he reaches the limit. All the influences of the Centre could not keep the Jesuits from being exiled! Why? They would not admit the superiority of the state.

Harden will never have the real power of the Jesuits, for the reason that he founds his appeal on principles that vary with the occasion.

But he will go! As for the Social Democrats, they can be played with as a cat plays with a mouse. Democracy! If the Kaiser gets into a tight place he can always declare war!

'Is the Imperial Chancellor responsible to the German people? No. He is imperial because he wears the imperial livery. Can the Reichstag appoint a chancellor? The idea is _pour rire_! My dear Mr. Minister, you and your countrymen do not understand Prussian rule in Germany!

And the Federal Council, what chance has it against the will of our emperor? And what have the people to do with the Federal Council?

The members are appointed by the rulers by right divine. There is the Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin. He rules his little duchy with a firm hand. There is the Duke of Brunswick, the Prince of Lippe-Schaumbourg--not to speak of the Grand Duke of Baden and a whole nest of rulers responsible only to the Head of the House.'

'But the people _must_ count,' I said. 'Prince von Bulow has shown himself to be nervous about the growing power of the Social Democrats.'

'Oh, yes, they are very amusing. They may caterwaul in the Reichstag; they may wrangle over the credits and the budget; but the emperor can prorogue them at any time. The Pan-Germans could easily, if the Reichstag were too independent, counsel the Kaiser to prorogue that debating club altogether.

'Who can prevent his forcing despotic military rule on the nation, for the nation's good, of course? Everything in Germany must come from the top--you know that. Again, the power of the rich, as far as suffrage is concerned, is unlimited. The members of the Reichstag are elected by open ballot. Woe be to the working man who defies his emperor. Fortunately the rich German is not socially powerful until he ranks. You may be as rich as Krupp, but if the Fountain of Honour has not dashed a spray of the sacred water on you, you are as n.o.body.

'The greatest American plutocrat may visit Germany and spend money like water, and he remains a mere commoner. The Kaiser may invite him on his yacht and say polite things, but, until he _ranks_, he is n.o.body. His wife may manage to be presented at court under the wing of the American amba.s.sadress, but that is nothing! The poorest and most unimportant of the little provincial baronesses outranks her.

She will always be an outsider, no matter how long she may live in Germany.

'With us, in Austria, an American woman, no matter whom she marries, is never received at court. She is never "born,"' and he laughed.

'Americans can have no heraldic quarterings; but, then, we do not pretend to be democratic. If I loved an American girl, I would marry her, of course; but if I went to court, I should go alone. It is the rule, and going to court is not such a rare treat to people who are used to it. It becomes a bore.'

To do my German diplomatic colleagues justice, they never attempted masquerades in the guise of democrats. There were other Germans, whom one met in society. These people were always loyal to the Fatherland.

Their att.i.tude was that the German world was the best of all possible worlds.

If my own countrymen and countrywomen abroad were as solidly American as these people were German, our politeness would not be so frequently stretched to the breaking point. The most loyal of Germans were American people of leisure who had lived long in Germany with t.i.tled relatives. They enjoyed themselves; they lived for a time in the glory of rank.

With those who had to earn their own living in Germany, it was another story. They did not 'rank'; they were ordinary mortals; they had not the _entree_ to some little provincial court, and so they saw the Prussian point of view as it really was. The American women, strangely enough, who had married ranking Germans loved everything German. 'But how do you endure the interference with your daily life?' my wife asked an American girl married to a Baron.

'I like it; it makes one so safe, so protected; your servants are under the law, and give you no trouble. Order is not an idea, but a method. I know just how my children shall be educated. That is the province of my husband. I have no fault to find.' She laughed. 'I do not have to explain myself; I do not have to say, "I am a Daughter of the Revolution, my uncle was Senator so-and-so"--my place is fixed, and I like it!'

It was a distinguished German professor who a.s.sumed the task of convincing American University men that the German Army was democratic, and the conclusion of his syllogism was: 'No officer is ever admitted to a club of officers who has not been voted for by the members.' Would you believe it? It seems incredible that democracy should seem to depend on the votes of an aristocracy and not on principles. But later, just at the beginning of the war, this professor and a half dozen others signed a circular in which the same argument was used. In 1907-8-9-10, the propaganda for convincing Americans that Germany--that is that the Kaiser--loved us was part of the daily life in the best society in the neutral countries.

The Norwegians openly laughed at it. They knew only too well what the Kaiser's opinion of them and their king, Haakon, was. Amazed by the frequent allusions of the admirers of the Kaiser to his love for democracy, especially the American kind, I had a talk one day with one of the most frank and sincere of Germans, the late Baron von der Quettenburg, the father of the present vicar of the Church of St.

Ansgar's in Copenhagen. He was a Hanoverian. He was at least seventy years of age when I knew him, but he walked miles; he rode; he liked a good dinner; he enjoyed life in a reasonable way; but he was frequently depressed. Hanover, his proud, his n.o.ble, his beautiful Hanover, was a va.s.sal to the arrogant Prussian!

'But, if there were a war you would fight for the Kaiser?' I asked, after a little dinner of which any man might be proud.

'Fight? Naturally. (I did not know that you knew so well how to eat in America.) Fight! Yes! It would be our duty. Russia or France or the Yellow Nations might threaten us;--yes, all my family, except the priest, would fight. But, because one is loyal to the Kaiser through duty, it does not mean that we Hanoverians are Prussians through pleasure. We shall never be content until we are Hanoverians again--nor will Bavaria.'

'A break up of the empire by force?'

'Oh, no!' he said. 'Not by force; but if the Government does not distract public attention, Hanover will demand more freedom; so will Bavaria. None of us would embarra.s.s the Kaiser by raising the question of--let us say--greater autonomy for our countries, if there were question of a foreign war; but we must raise them soon.'

'Do you think the emperor would make war to avoid the raising of these questions, which might mean a tendency toward the disintegration of the German monarchy?'

'The emperor would be incapable of that; he is for peace, but the raising of the question of a certain independence among the states that form the German Empire can only be prevented now by a war or some affliction equally great. Hanover can never remain the abject va.s.sal of Prussia.'

'You would, then, like to see the German Emperor more democratic--a President, like ours, only hereditary, governing quasi-independent States?'

'That would not suit us at all,' he laughed. 'We are quite willing that the Reichstag should be in the power of the emperor, as it is a mere a.s.sociation for talk; but we want the tributary kings to have more power in their own states. Hanover a republic! How absurd!

Republics may be good on your continent, but, then, you know no better; you began that way. Whoever tells us that we are democratic in Germany, deceives you. We Hanoverians want more power for Hanover, all the reasonable rights of our kings restored and less power for Prussia; but that we want republicanism, oh, no! A liberal const.i.tution--yes; but no republic!'

An old friend, a Swedish Social Democrat, brought in to tea a German Social Democrat; they came to meet an Icelandic composer, in whom I was interested. The Icelander was a good composer, but filled with curious ideas about Icelandic independence. He was not content that Iceland should have the power of a State in the Federal Union. A separate flag meant to him complete independence of Denmark. He wanted to know the German Social Democrat's opinion of government.

'It is,' said the German, 'that Hohenzollerns shall go, and people have equality.'

'With us it is,' said the Swede, 'that the King of Sweden shall go, and the people have equality.'

'But, if Germany goes to war?' I asked.

'For a short war, we will be as one people; but after----' and he shook his head gravely.

In the meantime, we were told constantly of the Kaiser's charm. 'You once said,' remarked a debutante at the German court, who had been presented under the wing of our amba.s.sadress, 'that if one wanted to dislike Mr. Roosevelt, one must keep away from him! I a.s.sure you, it is the same with the Kaiser. He is charming. For instance, notice this: he presented a lovely cigarette case, with imperial monogram in diamonds or something of that kind, to Madame Hegermann-Lindencrone, the wife of the Danish Minister, when her husband was leaving. "But my husband does not smoke," said Madame Hegermann-Lindencrone, later in the day. "That is the reason I gave it to him," said the Kaiser; "I knew that you like a cigarette, Madame!" _Isn't_ he charming?'

We were told that the Kaiser loved Mark Twain. To love Mark Twain was to be American. To be sure he turned his back very pointedly on Mark on one occasion because Mark had dared to criticise the pension system of the United States. Pensions for the army should not be criticised, even if their administration were defective. All soldiers must be taken care of. This was the first duty of a nation, and Mark Twain forgot himself when he censured any system that put money into the pockets of the old soldiers, even of the wives of the soldiers of 1812! And this to the War Lord, the emperor of more than a Praetorian Guard! And as for President Roosevelt, if the Kaiser could only see this first of republicans! This meeting had been the great joy of his brother Prince Henry of Prussia's life.

The Kaiser had learned much from Americans--our great capitalists, for example. No American who was doing things was alien to him. Other monarchs might pretend to have an interest in the United States; his was genuine, for Germany, youngest among the nations, had so much to learn from the giant Republic of the West which possessed everything, except potash, the science of making use of by-products, and German Kultur!

President Roosevelt had just gone out of office, and President Taft was in. He wrote to me: 'You shall remain in your post as long as I remain in mine.'

I was pleased and grateful. The chance that President Roosevelt had given me, President Taft continued to give me. I was the slave of a fixed idea, that the validity not the legality, of the Monroe Doctrine was somewhat dependent on our acquiring by fair bargains all the territory we needed to interpret it!

As to Denmark in 1910, it was much more French than anything else.

And, whatever might be done in the way of propaganda by Germany, France always remained beloved; while the English way of living might be imitated, n.o.body ever thought of imitating Germany's ways. Besides, the Danes are not good at keeping secrets, and the whisperings of German intentions, desires, likes, and dislikes disseminated in that city were generally supposed to be heart-to-heart talks with the world and received by the Danes with shrewd annotations. This the Kaiser did not approve of. It was curious that neither he nor his uncle, the King of England, liked Copenhagen--for different reasons!

It was understood that the King of England disliked it because he found it dull--the simplicity of Hvidh.o.r.e had no charms for him. He could not join in the liking of his Queen for everything Danish, from the ballets of De Bournonville to the red-coloured herring salad.

_Napoli_, a ballet which Queen Alexandra especially recommended to my wife and myself, frankly bored him, and the _mise-en-scene_ of the Royal Theatre was not equal to Covent Garden.

The Kaiser disliked Copenhagen because he had no regard for his Danish relatives, who took no trouble to bring out those charming boyish qualities he could display at times: the influence of the Princess Valdemar in Denmark displeased him; she was too French, too democratic, and too popular, and she had something of the quality for command of her late mother-in-law, Queen Louise. Altogether, the Danes were not amenable to German Kultur, or subservient to the continual threat of being absorbed in it, as the good Buddhist is absorbed in the golden lotus!

CHAPTER VI