Lay Down Your Arms 65

Lay Down Your Arms 65

“But if, according to Minister To-be-sure’s information, every man

should be obliged to share in the defence----”

 

“Oh, nonsense. So what I mean is, we will travel; we will bring up our

Rudolf to be a pattern man; we will follow our noble aim--the propaganda

of peace; and we--we will love each other!”

 

The carnival this same year brought with it once more balls and

pleasures of all sorts; but my mourning kept me away from all such

things. But what astonished me was that the whole of society did not

abstain from such mad goings on. Surely there must have been a loss in

almost every family; but, as it seemed, folks set all that at nought. A

few houses, it is true, remained closed, especially among the

aristocracy; but there was no want of opportunities for the young people

to dance, and the most favoured partners were, of course, those who had

come back from the battlefields of Italy and Bohemia; and the naval

officers were those most _fêted_, especially those who had fought at

Lissa. Half the lady world had fallen in love with Tegethoff, the

youthful admiral, as they had done with the handsome General Gablenz

after the campaign of Schleswig-Holstein. “Custozza” and “Lissa” were

the two trump-cards which were everywhere played in any conversation

about the war which was over. Along with this, the needle-gun and

Landwehr came in--two institutions which must be introduced as speedily

as possible--and then future victories were assured to us. Victories?

when and over whom? On this point people did not speak out; but the idea

of revenge, which is wont to accompany the loss of a game, even if it be

only a game at cards, was hovering over all the utterances of the

politicians. If even we did not ourselves take the field once more

against the Prussians, perhaps there might be others who would take it

on themselves to avenge us. All appearances seemed to show that France

would get into a quarrel with our conquerors, and then they might get

paid off for a good deal. The thing had even got a name in diplomatic

circles--“La Revanche de Sadowa”. Such was the triumphant announcement

to us of Minister To-be-sure.

 

It was at the beginning of spring that once more a certain “black spot”

appeared on the horizon--a “question” as they call it. The news also of

French preparations provided the conjectural politicians with what they

love so--“the prospect of war”. The question this time was called that

of Luxembourg.

 

Luxembourg? What was there then of such great importance to the world in

that? On this subject I had again to embark in studies similar to those

about Schleswig-Holstein. The name was indeed familiar to me only from

Suppé’s “Jolly Companions,” in which, as is well known, a Count of

Luxembourg “spends all he has in dress--dress--dress”. The result of my

studies was as follows:--

 

Luxembourg belonged according to the treaties of 1814 and 1816 (Ah!

there we have it! treaties--they contain ready-made the root of a

national quarrel--a fine institution these treaties) to the King of the

Netherlands, and at the same time to the German Bund. Prussia had the

right to garrison the capital. Now, however, as Prussia had renounced

her share in the old Bund, how could she keep the right of garrison?

That was the point--the “question”. The peace of Prague had in fact

introduced a new system into Germany, and thereby the connection with

Luxembourg had been dissolved; why then did the Prussians maintain their

right of garrison? “To be sure” that was an intricate affair, and the

most advantageous and righteous way of settling it would be to slaughter

fresh hundreds of thousands--that every “enlightened” politician must

allow. The Dutch had never attached any importance to the possession of

the Grand Duchy; the king also--William III.--attached no importance to

it, and would have been happy to cede it to France for a sum to be paid

into his privy purse; so _private_ negotiations now commenced between

the king and the French Cabinet. Exactly; secrecy is always the essence

of all diplomacy. The peoples are not to know anything of the matters in

dispute; as soon as the latter are ripe for decision they have the right

to bleed for them. Why and wherefore they are fighting each other is a

question of no importance.

 

It was not till the end of March that the king made the official

announcement, and on the same day as that on which his assent was

telegraphed to France, the Prussian ambassador at the Hague was informed

of it. On that began negotiations with Prussia. The latter appealed to

the guarantees of the treaties of 1859, the foundations on which the

kingdom of Holland stood. Public opinion in Prussia (What is meant by

public opinion? Possibly the writers of leading articles) was indignant

that the old German Reichsland should be torn away; and in the Reichstag

of North Germany, on April 1, there were heated questions on the

subject. Bismarck, it is true, remained cool about Luxembourg; but

nevertheless he set on foot preparations against France on this

occasion, and they of course were followed by counter preparations on

the French side. Ah, how well I know that tune! At that time I trembled

sorely for fear of a new fire being lighted in Europe. No want of people

to poke it--in Paris, Cassagnac and Emile de Girardin, in Berlin, Menzel

and Heinrich Leo. Have then such provokers of war even the remotest

notion of the gigantic enormity of their transgression? I hardly think

so. It was at this time--as I first heard the tale many years

after--that Professor Simson used the following __EXPRESSION__ in the

presence of the Crown Prince Frederick of Prussia about the question in

dispute:--

 

“If France and Holland have already come to an agreement, that signifies

war”.

 

To which the crown prince in hot excitement and alarm replied:--

 

“You have never seen war; if you had seen it, you would not pronounce

the word so quietly. I have seen it; and I say to you that it is the

highest duty, if it be anyhow possible, to avoid it.”

 

And this time it was avoided. A conference met at London, which, on May

11, led to the wished-for peaceable solution. Luxembourg was declared

neutral and Prussia drew her troops out. The friends of peace breathed

again, but there were plenty of people who were discontented at this

turn of affairs. Not the Emperor of the French--he wished for peace--but

the French “war party”. In Germany too there were voices raised to

condemn the behaviour of Prussia. “Sacrifice of a fortress,” “submission

looking like fear,” and other things of the kind. But every private

person also, who on the sentence of a court gives up his claim to any

possessions, shows the same submission. Would it be better for him not

to bow to any tribunal, but to settle the matter with his fists? The

result achieved by the conference of London may in such doubtful

questions be _always_ achieved, and the leaders of states can always

find that avoidance possible, which Frederick the Noble, afterwards

Frederick III., called the _highest duty_.

 

* * * * *

 

In May we betook ourselves to Paris to visit the exhibition.

 

I had not yet seen the World’s Capital, and was quite dazzled by its

splendour and its life. At that time especially, the empire was standing

at its highest pitch of splendour, and all the crowned heads of Europe

had collected there; and at that time above all others, Paris presented

a picture of splendour the most joyful and the most secure of peace. The

city appeared to me at that time not like the capital of a single

country, but like the capital of Internationality; that city which three

years afterwards was to be bombarded by its eastern neighbour. All the

nations of the earth had assembled in the great palace in the Champ de

Mars for the peaceful--nay profitable, because productive not

destructive--strife of business competition. Riches, works of art,

marvels of manufactory were brought together here, so that it must have

excited pride in every beholder to have lived in a time so progressive

and so full of promise of further progress; and along with this pride

must naturally have arisen the purpose never more to hamper the march of

that development of civilisation which was spreading enjoyment all

round, by the brutal rage of destruction. All these kings, princes, and

diplomatists who were assembled here as guests of the emperor and

empress could not surely be thinking amidst all the civilities that were

interchanged, the courtesies and the good wishes, of exchanging next

time shots with their hosts or one another? No. I breathed again. This

really splendid exhibition _fête_ seemed to me the pledge that now an

era of long, long years of peace had begun. At most against an incursion

of Tartar hordes, or something of that sort, these civilised people

might draw the sword; but against each other!--we were never more to see

that it was hoped. What strengthened me in this opinion was a

communication that reached me from a well-informed trustworthy source

about a favourite plan of the emperor for a _general disarmament_. Yes.

Napoleon III. was strong on that point. I have it from the mouth of his

nearest relations and most trusted friends, and on the next convenient

opportunity he was going to communicate to all the European governments

a proposal for reducing their military establishments to a minimum. That

was good to hear; it was at any rate a more reasonable idea than that of

a general increase of forces. In this way the well-known demand of Kant

would be granted, which is thus formulated in par. 3 of the “Preliminary

Article to an Everlasting Peace”:--

 

Standing armies (_miles perpetuus_) are in time to cease

absolutely. They are a constant menace of war to other states, in

consequence of the readiness to appear always prepared for war;

they provoke them to overpass each other in the mass of

preparations which know no limit (oh, prophetic glance of wisdom!);

and inasmuch as the costs of maintaining peace become at last more

burdensome than a short war, they are themselves causes of

offensive war, in order to get rid of this burden.

 

What government could decline a proposition such as that which France

was meditating without unmasking its lust of conquest? What nation would

not revolt against such a refusal? The plan must succeed.

 

Frederick did not share my confidence.

 

“In the first place,” he said, “I doubt whether Napoleon will make the

proposal. The pressure of the war party will hinder him. As a general

rule the occupants of thrones are prevented by those who surround them

from the exercise of those great efforts of individual will, which fall

quite outside of the usual pattern. In the second place, one cannot give

to a living being the command to cease to exist in this sort of way. It

straightway sets itself on its defence----”

 

“Of what living being are you speaking?”

 

“Of the army. That is an organism, and as such has powers of life

development and of self-maintenance. At the present time this organism

is just in its prime, and, as you see--for the system of universal

defence will surely be introduced into other countries--is just on the

point of being powerfully extended.”

 

“And yet you want to fight against it?”

 

“Yes; but not by stepping up to it and saying ‘Die, thou monster!’ for

the organism in question would hardly do me the kindness to stretch

itself dead at my feet on that summons. But I am fighting against it in

appearing on behalf of another living form, which is still only in its

fragile bud, but which, as it gains in power and extent, will crush the

other out. It is your fault to begin with, Martha, that I talk in these

scientific metaphors. It was you who first led me to study the works of

the modern students of nature. From this there has arisen in me the view

that the phenomena of social life also can not be understood in their

origin, or foreseen in their future course till one conceives of them as

existing under the influence of eternal laws. Of this most politicians

and people in positions of high dignity have no notion--not the

faintest; the worthy soldier certainly not. A few years ago it had not entered my head either.”