lay down your arms 77

lay down your arms 77

“That can only happen with a purpose which is perceived, but which the

author has tried cunningly to conceal. Mine, however, lies exposed to

the light--it is announced in plain words at the first glance on the

title-page.”

 

July, 1889. The christening came off yesterday. It was turned into a

festival promising twofold happiness: for my daughter Sylvia, the

godmother of her little nephew, and his godfather, whom we had long

cherished secretly in our hearts--Count Anton Delnitzky--took this

opportunity to announce their engagement.

 

And thus I am surrounded on all hands with happy relations, by means of

my children. Rudolf, who has six years since come into possession of the

Dotzky estate, and has been for four years married to Beatrix _née_

Griesbach, who had been intended for him since childhood--the most

lovely creature that can be imagined--sees now his most ardent wish

fulfilled by the birth of an heir. In short, an enviable, brilliant

destiny.

 

The christening guests assembled at a dinner in the summer-house. The

glass doors were left open, and the air of the summer noon streamed in,

laden with the scent of the roses.

 

Next me, in our circle, sat Countess Lori Griesbach, Beatrix’s mother.

She was now a widow. Her husband fell in the Bosnian expedition. She did

not take her loss very deeply to heart. In no case would _she_ wear

continual mourning. On the contrary, this time she had put on garnet-red

brocade, with brilliant jewels. She had remained just as superficial as

she was in her youth. Questions of toilette, one or two fashionable

French or English romances, and society chatter--that was always

sufficient to fill her horizon. Even coquetting she had not entirely

given up. She no longer had designs on young folks, but older personages

endowed with high rank or high position were not safe from her appetite

for conquest. At this time, as it seemed to me, Minister To-be-sure was

her mark. The latter had, besides, changed his name--and so we called

him now Minister T’other-side, from his new catch-word.

 

“I must make a confession to you,” Lori said to me as I clinked my glass

with hers to the health of the baby. “On this solemn occasion when we

have been christening the grandson of each of us, I must unburden my

conscience before you. I was quite seriously in love with your husband.”

 

“_That_ you have often confessed to me, dear Lori.”

 

“But he always remained quite indifferent.”

 

“That, too, I knew.”

 

“Well, you had a husband true as steel, Martha. I could not say as much

for mine. But none the less for that, I was very sorry about Griesbach.

Well, he died a glorious death; that is one comfort. A widow’s life is

truly a tedious one; especially as one grows older. As long as there are

treats, and people to pay court to you, widowhood is not devoid of ...

but now I assure you, one is quite melancholy all alone. With you the

case is rather different. You live with your son; but I am not at all

anxious to live with Beatrix. And she, too, is not anxious for it. The

mother-in-law in the house does not do well; for after all one likes to

be mistress at home. Servants certainly are a plague--that is very

true--still one can at least give them their orders. You will hardly

believe me, but I should not feel very much averse to marrying again. A

marriage of reason, of course, and with some sedate----”

 

“Minister, or something of that sort,” I interposed smiling.

 

“Oh, you sly creature! You have seen through me again! But just look

there! Do you not notice how Toni Delnitzky is talking to your Sylvia?

It is really quite compromising.”

 

“Don’t trouble yourself. Godfather and godmother made it up between them

on their way from church. Sylvia has confided it to me. To-morrow the

young man will come to me to ask her hand.”

 

“What do you say? Well, you _are_ to be congratulated. The handsome Toni

may no doubt have been a little gay from time to time; but they are all

that--that cannot be otherwise--and when one thinks what a good

match----”

 

“My Sylvia has never thought of that. She loves him.”

 

“Well, so much the better; that is a fine addition to a wedding.”

 

“An addition? It is all in all.”

 

One of the guests--an imperial and royal colonel on the retired

list--tapped his glass and: “Oh dear, a toast,” most of them probably

thought, as they broke off their separate talk, and, sighing, set

themselves to listen to the speaker; and it was something to sigh for.

The unhappy man stuck in his speech three times, and his choice of a

wish to offer to us was not less unfortunate. The infant was

congratulated on being born at a time when the country was about soon to

employ the services of her sons, and: “May he one day use his sword

gloriously, as his maternal great-grandfather and as his paternal

grandfather did; and may he himself bring up many sons who in their turn

may do honour to their father and their ancestors, and like so many of

those who have fallen--their ancestors--ancestors--for the honour of the

land of their ancestors--their ancestors and the ancestors of their

ancestors--conquer or---- In a word, the health of Frederick Dotzky!”

 

The glasses clinked, but the speech had not warmed us. That this being,

only just come into life, should already be entered on the death-roll of

future battles did not make a pleasant impression on us.

 

To drive away this painful picture, one of those present felt prompted

to hazard the comforting remark that present conjunctures guaranteed a

long peace--that the triple alliance----

 

On this the general conversation was luckily brought back to the domain

of politics, and Minister T’other-side took the word.

 

“In reality” (Lori Griesbach was hanging on his words), “it is clear

that the defensive power which we have attained is something tremendous,

and must deter all peace-breakers. The law of the Landsturm, which binds

all citizens fit for service from nineteen to forty-two years of age,

and those who have been officers even up to sixty years, to military

service, enables us at the first summons to put 4,800,000 soldiers in

the field at once. On the other side, it is not to be denied that the

increased demands which are contemplated by the war-ministry press

heavily on the people, and that the measures necessitated by these

demands, to secure the necessary readiness of the country for war, act

in the opposite way on the regulation of the finances; but, on the other

side, it is exhilarating to see with what joyful, self-sacrificing

patriotism the representatives of the people always and in all places

vote the increased burdens which the ministry of war demands. They

recognise the necessity admitted by all enlightened politicians, and

conditioned by the increase in the defensive forces of the neighbouring

states, and by the political situation, for subordinating all other

considerations to the iron compulsion of military development.”

 

“A live leading article,” said some one half aloud.

 

“T’other-side,” however, went on:--

 

“And all the more, because it is in this way that a security will

undoubtedly be taken for the maintenance of peace. For while we, in

obedience to traditional patriotism, emulate the steady increase of the

defensive power of our neighbours, in order to secure our own borders,

we are fulfilling an exalted duty, and are in hopes to banish also far

away all the dangers which may threaten us from any side; and therefore

I raise my glass in honour of that principle which, as I know, is so

dear to the heart of our friend, the Baroness Martha--a principle which

the signatories of the League of Peace of Central Europe also prize

highly--and I ask you to join with me in drinking: ‘Long live peace! and

may its blessings be right long preserved to us!’”

 

“I will not drink to that,” I said. “An armed peace is _no_ benefit; and

war ought to be avoided, not for a long time, but for _ever_. If one

were making a sea voyage, the assurance would not suffice that it would

be ‘right long’ before the ship struck on a rock. The honourable captain

should aim at _this_--that the _whole_ voyage shall be got over

prosperously.”

 

Dr. Bresser, who was still our best home friend, came to my aid.

 

“In reality, your excellence, can you trust to the honest and sincere

desire for peace of men who are soldiers from passionate enthusiasm? who

will not hear of anything which endangers war--_viz._, disarmaments,

leagues of states, arbitration courts? And could the delight in arsenals

and fortresses and manœuvres and so forth persist, if these things

were looked on merely as what they are held out as being--mere

scarecrows? So that the whole money expended on their erection is spent

only in order that they may never be used? The peoples are to be obliged

to give up all their money to make fortifications on their frontiers

with a view of kissing hands to each other across those frontiers? The

army is thus to be brought down to the level of a mere _gendarmerie_ for

the maintenance of peace, and ‘the most exalted War-lord’ is to preside

merely over a crowd of perpetual shunners of war? No; behind this mask,

the _si vis pacem_ mask, glances of understanding wink at each other,

and the deputies who vote every war-budget wink at the same time.”

 

“The representatives of the people?” broke in the Minister. “Surely the

spirit of sacrifice is worthy of nothing but praise, which in

threatening seasons they never fail to show, and which finds cheering

__EXPRESSION__ in the unanimous acceptance of the appropriate laws.”

 

“Forgive me, your excellence. I should like to call out to those

unanimous voters, one ofter the other, ‘Your “Yes” will rob that mother

of her only child. Yours will put that poor fellow’s eyes out. Yours

will set fire to a collection of books which cannot be replaced. Yours

will dash out the brains of a poet who would have been the glory of your

country. But you have all voted “yes” to this, just in order not to

appear cowards, as if the only thing one had to fear in giving assent

was what regards _oneself_. Is then human egotism so great that this is

the only motive which can be suggested for opposing war? Well, I grant

you egotism is great: for each one of you prefers to hound on a hundred

thousand men to destruction rather than that you should expose your dear

self even to the suspicion of having ever experienced one single

paroxysm of fear.’”

 

“I hope, my good doctor,” said the colonel dryly, “that you may never

become a deputy; the whole house would hiss you down.”