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WHAT THE WORLD-WAR WILL MEAN TO WOMANKIND

Have you ever stopped to think what this world-war will mean to womankind? While thousands of Germans, Russians, French and English are daily slaughtered, wounded or captured, what does this mean to the thousands of women who are patiently waiting for their return?

Though the fewest of the European women want war, or are in any way responsible for it, they are taught to believe that every man belongs to his country first and to his family afterwards. If you were in Germany during this life-and-death struggle you would certainly find out that the German women are natural or at least trained Spartans. They are confident in the belief that however much a man is needed at home, he is more necessary to his country when she is in danger. This is the belief of rich and poor alike – the Kaiserin and the Crown Princess hold to this ideal. No less than the poorest Bavarian peasant woman, the Kaiserin and the Crown Princess were at Potsdam when the war broke out. They did not suffer their husbands' return to Berlin alone, but came into the city with them, drove through the city, and were recognized by the people as part protectors of the country. Whenever the Emperor came out on the balcony to address his people, he was accompanied by his wife. She showed so much self-control and determination that many of the people said they had two rulers instead of one.

When the Landsturm were called out it was rumored that the Emperor was going to leave Berlin for the front that very evening. One of the Kaiserin's intimate friends asked her what she would do while the Emperor was gone.

"What shall I do?" was the sensible reply. "But stay at home and look after all my children; this means all the women and children in the land who need me, as well as all the soldiers who are brought back wounded." That these were not idle words is shown by the fact that as soon as war was declared the Empress gave forty thousand dollars out of her own private fortune to the Red Cross. Ever since the war started she has spent all her leisure time visiting the different Red Cross hospitals to see that all the soldiers were getting the proper food and attention. Her work has not stopped here; she went to all the markets to see that all the provisions possible were being brought in to the people, and that food should not be raised above the ordinary prices. Though the Crown Princess is a happy mother of four lovely boys, as soon as the war broke out she and her children accompanied the Crown Prince to the palace. As she drove through the streets, she was received with the same enthusiastic cries as her husband, for she is greatly beloved by her people, and they knew that she would do her duty at home while her husband was leading his division to war. Her lovely face was brightened by the usual happy smile, showing that she was ready to do her part rather than to thrust her burdens on the world. She turned over one of her palaces at once as a hospital, and took personal charge of the work herself. She is doing as much work as the Red Cross nurses, and, though her husband has been in many dangerous positions since the war broke out, she has never shown any personal anxiety. That the Emperor appreciates this is shown by a telegram he recently sent to his daughter-in-law:

"I rejoice with thee in the first victory of William. God has been on his side and has most brilliantly supported him. To Him be thanks and honor. I sent to William the Iron Cross of the second and first class."

The other daughters-in-law of the Kaiser have shown the same courage and forbearance. Princess Eitel Friedrich said goodbye to her husband with as much enthusiasm, while the youngest, Joachim, who has just been married, was hurried to the church for a second marriage before the war. Even the young Princess Louise, who is the mother of a young baby, had to say farewell to her beloved husband who went to join his regiment. She went up to visit her mother for a few days in Berlin, and then hurried home to look after her baby and the people.

Their example has been followed by all the princesses of Germany who, besides acting as regents while their husbands are gone, are giving all their time to Red Cross centers. Hardly had the war been declared when thousands of women of all classes offered themselves to different Red Cross centers. When told that they had never had any training in Red Cross work they begged for some menial position, such as supplying the soldiers with food and drink as they came in and out of the stations.

Many have applied to the dietary cooking schools, where they are doing special cooking for the soldiers, and now they are glad that they were taught to cook at home.

Many of the maids in private homes are too impatient to stay and do their routine work, and they have also gone to the Red Cross centers without pay. As one maid said, in a small Bavarian town, "How can I see others working for their country while I stay on and work for myself? Though I have only two hands to give, I give them willingly for the Red Cross work. I can clean rooms and scrub floors, if I cannot do anything else."

This same determination and courage came to the women when they told their husbands and sweethearts goodbye. In the small towns the women and girls waited for hours to see their husbands and sons go out. Though their hearts may have been heavy, their faces wore happy smiles, as they shouted: "Alas, farewell!" or an enthusiastic: "Auf Wiedersehen." In their own homes they showed the same courage and determination, as one girl said to me, "I was coming home with my sweetheart yesterday, and I couldn't help but cry just a little when I told him goodbye, but my sister-in-law never shed a tear when her husband left. She got his things ready in a hurry, and, when he went down the street, she took her child on her arms and stood in the window waving to him until he was out of sight."

One German woman had six children and her husband go to war, and when one of her friends tried to console her, she answered: "My only regret is that I haven't six more to give to my country."

The officials' wives have shown the same splendid daring. Many of them are young married women with babies. They hurried to Berlin with their husbands to visit with them a day or two before the men should be called into active service. They were seen walking with them unter den Linden, or dining with them in restaurants. They talked of everything but war, and when the time came to say goodbye they hurried to the trains and bade them goodbye, as though they were only going on a short trip. The families in need of support, while husbands and brothers are gone, have found much protection in daughters and sisters. Thousands have taken up men's work in the cities and in the country. They are working long hours to fill the gaps in banks, postoffices and railroads. Most of the drygoods stores turned over the positions in the family to a wife or daughter so that the family may not need. Even girls offered themselves as conductors and motormen on street cars. They proved themselves competent for conductors, but they found the work of motorman too strenuous.

The women on the farms have been working long hours for their children, sometimes weakening under their load to bring in the rich harvest.

Though the Belgian men showed that they had splendid courage in fighting for their principle of neutrality, the real heroines were their women. In more combats than one, when they saw their men worsted, they seized the guns and swords strewn on the battlefields and even fought in hand combats with their enemies and would not give up even when worsted. When their houses and towns were on fire they refused to retreat. The consort of the king of Belgium, though she has three little children of her own, has given a large part of her private fortune and most of her time trying to provide her people with food and shelter.

Though Holland was the first to mobilize when war was declared. Queen Wilhelmina insisted, through her ministers, that her country was to keep perfect neutrality. This she has reiterated time and again. As she says, "Not that I have so much fear for the horrors of war, but I do not wish to see my women and children suffer the hardships resulting from war."

The French women have the reputation of being timid and light-hearted, but this war shows they have plenty of courage and self-control. When war first broke out in France some of the people, especially in the large cities, were hysterical, for they had not forgotten the experiences suffered in the Franco-Prussian war. But the courage shown by the women to do or die, soon brought a great reaction of self-control. Hundreds of women were seen promenading in the woods or sitting at the cafés just as though nothing important had taken place. Many of the wealthy French women in Paris and in the suburbs turned their beautiful homes into hospitals for wounded soldiers. Thousands of others have formed Red Cross centers. The more experienced in nursing hurried to get commissions following their husbands to the battlefield, while hundreds of less fortunate have been sewing at home or in schools. They have also been busy providing food and clothing for destitute families.

The English women are more isolated by their position, still they have not been lacking in providing their men with the few comforts that war can offer. They have formed Red Cross centers, gone off to nurse their soldiers and offered their services on battleships.

Though America has not been in the war her women have not been negligent in doing their part to allay the suffering and hardships of combat. No sooner was the rumor of war given than did the National Red Cross of America start a campaign for the purpose of sending Red Cross nurses and supplies to all great centers of Europe. This involved many technical difficulties as well as plenty of work and expense. For, besides painting the ship white, it was understood that the entire crew was to be American men. They had to get plenty of money together so as to make the work efficient. Before fitting out their supplies they canvassed the different countries of Europe, finding out what were the especial needs of the different armies. They heard that one country was in special need of stretchers, a second absorbent cotton, a third hospital gauze.

Thousands of Americans living abroad have joined the Red Cross centers of the cities in which they were living and are giving much of their time and money to strengthening the work.

Others who were in the war zone and waiting necessary accommodations to get home, interested themselves forming circles among their friends and giving their contributions to the general store, while the wives of our different ambassadors have stood at their post giving of their strength and fortunes to needy and destitute Americans, who daily come to them in distress. When advised that they should return home for safety they answered that their places were at the side of their husbands.

This is an epitome of what woman has done to relieve suffering, but what does war mean to her? It means the useless sacrifice of those that are nearest and dearest. It means the breaking of the nearest of the family ties, of the love and protection that makes these homes happy and complete. This war is daily creating heartaches and wounds for thousands of women and children that can never be compensated by any possible glory of war. This war will create millions of tear-stained faces, millions of breaking hearts that can never be comforted nor ever be made joyous. Even when these young widows reach an age when their hair will be tinged with white, they can never forget the hardships that are now being made by this ruthless combat. These women may yoke their backs to the burden and bear their suffering in silence, but the grief will be greater for being suppressed. The pictures of daily suffering are too dramatic and too intense to be forgotten in a year or in a lifetime. Millions of these women have gone through the trials and sufferings of child-birth with a joy in their hearts that they could be the proud mothers of good families. These same mothers are now being forced to give these sons for useless slaughter so that the greed of nations can be appeased.

But the hardships will not end with the loss of life, it will mean the sacrifice of every luxury, every comfort and even the bare necessities of life for thousands and thousands of women. The main support of their family gone, they will have to offer themselves as bread winners for their families. Thousands of good businesses and factories have already been swept to the ground, and thousands more will be destroyed before this war is ended. Millions of unprotected women and girls will cry for work, but after cities and towns are destroyed there will be little left for those in need.

But there will be other hardships for these many unprotected mothers and daughters. Thousands of families have worked and saved for years to buy small homes and farms which they might call their own, and these have been destroyed like beautiful grain by a horrible gale. Thousands of others have saved for years to possess small fortunes, and these have all been destroyed.

O, thinking woman, woman of all lands, do you call death, destruction of life and property, glory of war? Did God create human lives and fertile lands to have them all fall before the greed of man? If He had done this, He would be an unjust God, but since His watchword is "Glory to God in the Highest, Peace on Earth, goodwill to men," it is your duty, mother of the race to come, to cry halt to this awful carnage, to make your watchword in your prayer brotherly love instead of brotherly hate. For if there is one God, there is one brotherhood, and all humanity can only be linked to that God by brotherly love.

ASK YOUR AMERICAN FRIENDS HOW IT FEELS TO BE WITHOUT MONEY

If "war is hell," then to be in a strange country without credit and funds is certainly purgatory. If you do not believe this to be true, ask any of your friends who happened to be in the war zone and they will certainly corroborate my story.

Though I was grief-stricken by the news that the great powers of Europe had decided to wage a world-war, I knew that this feeling was intensified when the banks of Germany refused to recognize any foreign letters of credit.

I should not have had a dollar to my name had my mother been well, but as she was quite sick I went to the bank twice that week, for I thought if she were worse later I could not leave her. We had just paid a week's board-bill and I vowed that we should not pay another until the banks gave us more money. I was so angry when I saw another week sneak round and another bill appear, that I left it unopened on my bureau for a week.

Before long I realized that being angry would do no good. I must hustle and get some credit. The first few days it was hopeless, for there was a perfect run on the two small banks in our town; sometimes there were several hundred people waiting at the doors for them to open. Most of these were Russians and Poles trying to get the money out of the banks and to hurry home before it was too late.

One day I worked my way through the crowd and got to the cashier's desk, where I was refused. The clerk said that he would give me change, but since England had made war it was foolish to take their checks, as it might be months before he could cash them. I saw it was foolish to argue the point, but I was furious, as up to this time he had been so solicitous about our having enough money.

The clerks at the other bank were even more disagreeable. They were all right to the Germans, but they treated Americans as a lot of dead-beats, who were more accustomed to travel on credit.

But I was comforted by the fact that though there were plenty of wealthy men in our sanitarium, they were all in the same box. There were a half-dozen millionaires whose united fortunes represented at least fifty million dollars, but they could not raise five hundred dollars on it. They said little, but the seriousness of their faces showed they thought much. If they ever knew what poverty meant it was so many years ago that they had forgotten all about its sting. These tight circumstances did not bring out the soft, kind side of their nature, it seemed to make them skeptics instead. They were silent and taciturn, and acted as though a short conversation indicated a "financial touch."

One of our multi-millionaires, who poses as a splendid church-worker, never let his acquaintanceship extend beyond a nod or a "how do you do," as though he thought a warmer friendship meant financial aid.

He was traveling with a friend who had less in fortune, but more heart. His friend promised to look after mother and me, but somehow the philanthropist put a damper on the promise.

I then turned to a wealthy brewer and he said that he would O. K. our bills if we did not get the money. This remained a promise, for he never was tested to put his promise into execution, though he did go into the bank one day and tell the clerk to give us twenty pounds more.

It came about, after worrying and waiting a week, in this way: The word came that our government had arranged so that we were to get some money on our letters of credit. After standing out in the hot sun a half-day the bank clerk gave my mother and me one hundred and fifty dollars on two letters of credit. I objected, saying that we were entitled to one hundred and fifty dollars apiece. The clerk replied curtly that the money to be paid out was at his discretion. The one hundred and fifty dollars was intended for traveling expenses until we should reach Berlin. He did not seem to take cognizance of the fact that we had a two weeks' board-bill to pay before we should get that far.

When I appeared with my mother a few days later in quest of more money he was furious, as he accused me of calling him a d – thing, though I had only accused him of being a disagreeable person.

It looked for a while as though the bank clerk was determined to have me arrested for calling him a bad name. I afterward learned that even in homes of peace you can be arrested for calling bad names and the offence becomes worse in war times. I was afraid that he might accuse me next of being a spy, so I made my escape and never saw the man again. The brewer and my mother finally quieted him and he gave us twenty pounds, or one hundred dollars, more. Some of the men finally arranged so that they got a few hundred dollars every week, at least enough to pay their board.

But I consoled myself by saying that there were some who had less credit than we had. There was an American man who had lived for years in China, and he said that he could not get a dollar. A Chicago lawyer took pity and shared his fifty pounds with him, trusting to fate to get some more.

After realizing fully that I could not get any money from the small bank, and in such desperate times it was foolish to depend on promises for aid, I decided to campaign for more money.

Just before the cables had been closed, I had been advised from home to seek advice and financial aid, if necessary, from two men in Frankfurt; the one I had met six months before and the other I did not know. At first I thought I would take a train and go up to Frankfurt to shorten the process of borrowing money. Though it is only a five hours' trip, under ordinary circumstances, from where I was, it had been prolonged to a fourteen hours' journey. I did not want to trust to the mail, as less than ten per cent. of the letters written were being received. I was glad to find out that I could wire for twenty-five cents, as money was too precious to be wasted on long distance messages, and it broke my heart every time I had to send a cable.

One evening I decided to find our Frankfurt friend. I soon discovered I had undertaken a large contract. When I looked in the directory I could not find his business address. I was about to give up in despair when the happy thought came that I might find it in the telephone book. I found the name, Heilburg, 61 Beethoven strasse. It's fortunate that many of the streets in Germany are named after the composers and artists, for though I had only been there once, I remembered they lived on a musical street.

After waiting a half-hour I got my party, and had as much difficulty in making him remember who I was as I had in holding an intelligible German conversation over the 'phone. I thought the man would drop at the 'phone when I asked him for two hundred and fifty dollars, and he compromised on half the amount. Though his intentions were the best, it took a week's hard telephoning every day until I actually had the money in my hand.

In the meanwhile I had received another cable from home telling me to call up a certain banker in Frankfurt. When I approached him on the same subject on the 'phone, he said he had never heard my name before, and I could not expect him to hand out money to a person he did not know. I acquiesced in his statement and said that his brother in America was a great friend of my brother. To this he answered he believed all I said was true, but did not see how he could loan me money without being authorized. Finally we compromised on seventy-five dollars, and he promised to let me have more if I sent our letter of credit. I refused to do that, as I knew it would only be lost in the mail.

I decided that I had enough to pay my board-bill for the next two weeks and that was a good deal more than others had, many of whom were living on credit or paying with checks and drafts. There were two or three of our guests who did not have dollar to their name, for all the English and French credit had been cut off. At the end of two weeks I saw my funds being depleted and I decided it was necessary to start on another campaign. In the meantime I had received a letter from a cousin in Dresden and I answered that I could use a little money. That week she sent me two hundred dollars, which paid our board-bill and debts accrued on telephone, telegraph and cable messages. When I left I still owed one week's board-bill. At first it looked as though our host did not intend to let us go without paying, but when he saw I was firm about paying no more he yielded, and said the rest could be paid after we got home. Money was so tight there for four weeks that anything beyond spending a penny for a newspaper was considered foolish extravagance, and I scolded my mother one day for spending twenty-five cents for flowers. Every time I took a carriage to make a long business journey I considered myself wicked, and a carriage ride for pleasure was out of the question. The only extravagance I knew was giving some money to the Red Cross society and some generous tips to the men who went off to the war. At times I thought I should forget how to shop if I ever reached the point where I had plenty of money of my own.

The condition of Americans in Berlin was not much better. I met friends with less than a dollar in their pockets. A doctor and his wife had come up from Carlsbad to Berlin with a quarter between them. Here they were fortunate enough to meet a friend who loaned them two hundred and fifty dollars for a ticket and traveling expenses.

There was a professor and his wife who were trying to get a second-class ticket on a Holland-American boat, though they only had twenty-five dollars in their pockets. They trusted to luck for their ticket and their money. Good fortune favored them, for on their way from Berlin to Holland they met a Southern man, who helped them get their ticket and paid for it.

Every day dozens of young girls who had been studying abroad, and teachers off for a summer's holiday, presented themselves at the German Embassy, telling their hard-luck stories of how they were down to the last cent, and that they would have to be home by the time school opened.

Mrs. Gerard took care of many of these cases herself and saw to it that they were provided with third-class tickets.

At the hotel where I was stopping I met an American lady with three daughters. She said that they had enough funds to take them home in four weeks by the strictest kind of management. The mother and the two young girls had taken over the task of doing the family washing in the bathtub, while the eldest girl was earning one dollar a day for stenographic work at the Embassy. A little later I met two girls who had been in Hamburg. They managed to pay their board and part of their tickets by helping the council out there.

I soon found out that even with money in my pocket, it was hard to make money count, for when it came to getting change they would only give you paper money of small denominations. Gold was the only thing that spoke, and silver was as much at a premium as paper was worthless. I found many people who were going without their next meal because they could not get their paper money changed. I went on a shopping expedition for an hour one morning, just to get a hundred marks changed. I was told that thousands of Americans were stranded in Switzerland, who were without a dollar and without a ticket. As a friend wrote to me, "It is a pitiable sight to see so many of our American women and children, including artists, invalids, school teachers, and mothers with families, who have been educating their children in Switzerland, driven almost to destitution. They come back with tears in their eyes from Swiss banks, because the clerks try to find any possible flaw in their drafts and refuse to honor their letters of credit. Even the more generous of these bankers have only a few hundred dollars a week on which to do business.

"Those of us who are living in Swiss families and boarding houses are fortunate, for the Swiss people are intelligent to understand our predicament and to feel sorry for us. But many have been living in fashionable hotels, where the prices mounted immediately when tourists came piling in by the hundreds. These proprietors expect to have their bills paid weekly, which means that many of their guests are without a dollar. I am sure that more than one wealthy woman has parted with more than one handsome piece of jewelry to pay a week's board bill for herself and her children. The question uppermost in every one's mind is, "When will the Tennessee with its chest of two hundred million dollars arrive, voted by Congress for the relief of Americans?"

"I am sure that the greatest hardships are being known by those who have been living in the mountain resorts in Switzerland, where they have been cut off from all communication. I have seen a number of such people come staggering into our town carrying dress-suitcases, exhausted for want of food and sleep."

On our boat coming home there were a number of destitute cases, men and women without a dollar to their name. After a few days a committee of wealthy men got up a fund to help them out. The day before our boat landed a New York Citizens' Club sent word to our captain that they should look up the destitute cases and they should be provided with money when they reached New York. Among the cases presented some were worthy and some were not. One woman made her plea that she had been separated from her husband a few years before, as a reason for getting money, though she had plenty to take her home.

The American women had been made destitute by losing all their baggage and can count their material wealth in dress-suitcases. The first time I decided to start for Holland the railroads were allowing tourists to take their trunks with them, but two weeks later they said they would not be responsible for any baggage taken. The most daring took a chance, only to leave their luggage in the stations. I saw stations that were piled high with five thousand and more American trunks. Some of the people were fortunate to get their trunks to the frontier, only to lose them on the boundary line. My mother and I left eight trunks on the other side. These are divided between France and Germany. Still we are glad that they are distributed in this way, for however the war goes, we ought to get some of our belongings. On our boat I heard that there are nearly a hundred thousand American trunks in Paris and the same number in London. Unless these trunks are regained, many a woman will have to content herself with two dresses and one hat this winter.

On our boat many a woman bewailed the loss of her trunks, as she said, "Just to think, this is my first trip to Europe and I haven't got one thing to show for it. It has been the dream of my life to say I owned a Paris dress and hat. A hundred dollars is a good deal to pay for a hat and a dress, but certainly they were worth it, if I only had something to show for it.

"I didn't mind for myself, but it doesn't seem like being away unless you have presents for the family at home. I had bought my sisters each a handsome evening bag, mother a handsome scarf and father a beautiful amber pipe."

These hard straits are in marked contrast with the luxurious way in which Americans have been traveling and living abroad the last ten years. Our steamers have reached a point where they were perfect ocean palaces, comparable with the finest New York hotels. The hotels in Europe have been transformed from simple boarding houses to marble palaces, equipped with every luxury and comfort. A room and bath in any first-class hotel brought seven dollars a day and a suite of rooms at thirty was not considered extreme. Many of the restaurants were so fine and fashionable that they didn't even print prices on their bills of fare.

In the summer resorts ten years ago, a hotel keeper boasted of having an omnibus to take the people to the station, an elevator and a few bathrooms. To-day these simple hotels have been transformed into perfect palaces. Golf links, tennis courts and tango teas. The Americans are in no small part responsible for these high prices and foolish luxuries. These hard times, experienced in the war zone, may result in bringing them to their common sense, so that they can again enjoy the simple living.