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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 titled 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 entrée 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 assumed 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 noble, his beautiful Hanover, was a vassal 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 embarrass 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 vassal 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 association 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 constitution – 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 débutante at the German court, who had been presented under the wing of our ambassadress, 'that if one wanted to dislike Mr. Roosevelt, one must keep away from him! I assure 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 Prætorian 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, nobody 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 Hvidhöre 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-scène 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
GERMAN DESIGNS IN SWEDEN AND NORWAY

As far as insinuating, mental propaganda was concerned, Germany, as I have said, had the advantage over 'Die dumme Schweden,' as the Prussians always called them. 'The stupid Swedes' were the easiest pupils of German world politics, but even the most German of the Swedes never realised, until lately, what the Prussian dream of world politics meant.

Before 1914, the Swedes had been led to believe that any general European difficulty would throw them into the hands of Russia. The constantly recurring difficulty of the Aaland Islands was before their eyes. Look at the map of Northern Europe and observe what the fortifying of the Aaland Islands by a foreign power means to Sweden. We Americans do not realise that the small nations of Europe have neither a Monroe Doctrine nor the power of enforcing one. And, so far as Sweden was concerned, her only refuge against the power of Russia seemed to be Germany.

When Austria made her ultimatum to Serbia, Sweden believed that her moment for sacrifice or triumph had come. In August 1914, all Scandinavia felt that the fate of the northern nations was at stake. For Sweden the defeat of Germany meant the conquest of Sweden by the Russians, for, sad to say, no little nation believed absolutely in the good faith of a great one.

The United States, where so many Scandinavians had found a home, what of her? Too far off, and the Swedish leaders of public opinion knew too well what had been the fate of the attempts at the Hague conference to abrogate the Machiavellian doctrines that have been the basis of diplomacy almost since diplomacy became a recognised science and art.

As for diplomacy, what had it to do with the fate of the little nations? Scandinavia, among the rest of Europe, looked on it as a purely commercial machine dominated essentially by local political issues. Our State Department had a few fixed principles, but all Europe believed that we were too ignorant of European conditions and, more than that, too indifferent to them to be effective. The slightest political whisper in Russia or the smallest hint from court circles in Germany was enough to upset the equilibrium of Scandinavian statesmen. American opinion really never counted, because American opinion was looked on as insular. A diplomacy labelled as 'shirt sleeve' or 'dollar' might delight those members of Congress who had come to Washington to complete an education not yet begun at home, but, from the European point of view, it was beneath notice. It cannot be said that the United States was not looked on, because of her riches and her size, with respect; but her apparent indifference to the problem on which the peace of the world seemed, to Europe, to depend, and her policy of changing her diplomatic ministers or keeping them in such a condition of doubt that they kept their eyes on home political conditions, had combined to deprive her of importance in matters most vital to every European. This is not written in the spirit of censure, but simply as a statement of fact.

The Swedes, the Norwegians, the Danes had flocked to our country. In parts of the West, during some of the political campaigns, my old and witty friend, Senator Carter, chuckling, used to quote:

 
'The Irish and the Dutch,
They don't amount to much,
But give me the Scan-di-na-vi-an.'
 

These people are a power in our political life; but they knew in Minnesota, in Nebraska, wherever they lived in the United States, that our country would not forcibly interfere with the designs either of Russia or of Germany. And, in Sweden, while King Gustav and the Conservatives saw with alarm the constant depletion of the agricultural element in the nation by emigration to the United States, their feeling towards our country was one of amiable indulgence for the follies of youth. King Oscar showed this constantly, and King Gustav went out of his way to show attentions to our present minister, Mr. Ira Nelson Morris. Nevertheless, until lately, American diplomacy was not taken seriously, and, when the war opened, it was taken less seriously than ever.

Sweden, then, fearing Russia, doubtful of England, full of German propagandists, her ruling classes looking on France as an unhappy country governed by roturiers and pedagogues, and, except in a commercial way, where we never made the most of our opportunities, regarding our country as negligible, Sweden, divided violently between almost autocratic ideas and exceedingly radical ones, was in a perilous position from 1914 to 1918. Frankly, there are no people more delightful than the Swedes of the upper classes whom one meets at their country houses. Kronoval, the seat of the Count and Countess Sparre, is one of the places where the voices of both parties may be heard. And, when one thinks of the Swedish aristocrat, one almost says, as Talleyrand said of the talons rouges, 'when the old order changes, much of the charm of life will disappear.' Under a monarchy, life is very delightful – for the upper classes. It is no wonder that they do not want to let go of it. It must be remembered, in dealing with European questions, that the Swede and the Spaniard are probably the proudest people on the earth. Another thing must not be forgotten: the educated classes are imperial-minded. And of this quality German intrigue makes the most.

A Scandinavian Confederacy, like the Grecian one, of which King George of Greece dreamed, was not looked on with yearning by the Pan-Germans. It must be remembered to the credit of King Gustav, that, overcoming the rancour born of the separation, he made the first move towards the meeting of the three kings at Malmö,⁶ in the beginning of the war.

When Finland was annexed by Germany, the terror of Russia in Sweden became less intense. Before that Sven Hedin, suspected of being a tool of Germany, did his best to raise the threatening phantom of the Russian terror whenever he could. The hatred and fear of Russia revived. It was not in vain that sane-minded persons urged that Russia would have enough to do to manage the Eastern question, to watch Japan, to keep her designs fixed on Constantinople. The German propaganda constantly raised the question of the fortification of the Aaland Islands. Denmark and Norway were intensely interested in it; it gave Count Raben-Levitzau much thought when he was Minister of Foreign Affairs in Denmark, especially after the separation of Norway from Sweden; and since then, it has been a burning question, and the Foreign Office in Christiania was not untroubled. On the question of the Aaland Islands neither the Russian nor the Swedish diplomatists would ever speak except in conventional terms; but, when I wanted light, I went to the cleverest man in Denmark, Count Holstein-Ledreborg.

'De l'esprit?' he said, laughing, 'mais oui, j'ai de l'esprit. Tout le monde le dit; but other things are said, too. Fortunately, a bad temper does not drive out l'esprit. You are wrong; the cleverest man in Denmark is Edward Brandès.' But this is a digression.

'The Swedes,' Count Holstein-Ledreborg said, 'are at heart individualists. They would no more bear the German rule of living than they would commit national suicide by throwing themselves into the arms of Germany. England met with no success in Sweden in spite of the tact of her envoys, because her ideas of Sweden are insular. She scorns effective propaganda; she has never even attempted to understand the Swedes. The bulk of the Swedes do not vote (1909). The destinies of Sweden are in the hands of the Court. A king is still a king in Sweden; but that will pass, and the movement of the Swedish nation will be further and further away from the political ideas of Germany.'

In 1911 modified liberal suffrage became a Swedish institution. Still, the State and Church remain united. Religion is not free; nobody can hold office but a Lutheran. The 'Young Sweden' party is governed very largely by the ideas of the German historian, Treitschke. The philosophy of his history is reflected in the pages of Harald von Hjarne. He is patriotic to the core, but, whether consciously or not, he played into the hands of the Prussian propagandist. His history, a chronicle of the lives of Kings Charles XII. and Gustavus Adolphus, displayed in apotheosis; and the imperialistic idea, which carries with it militarist tendencies, is illuminated with all the radiance of Hjarne's magic pen. Sweden must have an adequate army.

When Norway threatened to secede, its attitude very largely due to the bad management of the very charming and indolent King Oscar, the Swedish army began to mobilise. The Swedes – that is the minority of Swedes, the governing body – would not brook the thought that Norway might become a real nation. 'We must fight!' Young Sweden said. The Young Sweden, intolerant and imperious, did not realise that it had Old and Young Norwegians to contend with. Now, if the Spaniard and the Swede are the proudest folk in Europe, the Norwegian and the Icelandic are the most stiff-necked. The Swedish pride and the Norwegian firmness, which contains a great proportion of obstinacy, met, and Norway became a separate monarchy with such democratic tendencies as make American democracy seem almost despotism.

After the success of the Liberals in 1911, there was a reaction. The German propaganda fanned the excited patriotism of the Swedish people; 'their army was too small, their navy inefficient'; the force of arms must be used against Russia. In fact, Russia had her Eastern problems; the best-informed of the Swedish diplomatists admitted this; but the propaganda was successful; the people were tricked; nearly forty thousand farming folk and labourers marched to the palace of King Gustav. They had made great contributions in money for the increase of the fleet. 'That cruiser,' said a cynical naval attaché, 'will one day fight for Germany – when the Yellow Peoples attack us,' he added to ward off further questions.

Nevertheless the German influence made no points against the 'yellow peoples.' It was against Russia all their bullets were aimed. The Russians understood secret diplomacy well; but, either because they despised the common people too much or because the writers on Russia were too self-centred, nothing was done to meet this propaganda effectively. The Swede was taught to believe that Germany was the best-governed nation on the face of the earth, and Russia the worst; that Germany would benevolently protect, while Russia was ready to pounce malignantly. Russian literature gave no glimpse of light. It was grey or black, and the language in which the Russian papers were printed was an effectual barrier to the understanding of the Swedes, who, as a matter of course, nearly all read German.

Young Sweden believed that the first step on the road to greatness was a declaration of war with Russia. Nothing could have suited the plans of the Pan-Germans better than this, for it meant for Sweden an alliance with Germany. The Swedish literary man and university professors voiced, as a rule, the pro-German opinions of Young Sweden. There were some exceptions; but there were not many. And the worst of all this was that these men were sincere. They were not bribed with money. They were flattered, if you like, by German commendations. Every historical work, every scientific treatise, every volume of poetry of any value, found publishers and even kindly critics in Germany. Russia was the enemy, and, from the point of view of the intellectual Swede, illiterate.

Russia had nothing to offer except commercial opportunities at great risks. Swedish capital might easily be invested at home or, if necessary, there was the United States or Germany for their surplus. The pictures of Russian life given out by the great writers who ought to know it, were not inspiring of hope in the future of Russia. There was no special need for the Swedish scholar to complain of the German influence in his country since it was all in his favour. The Government honoured him – following the German examples – and made him part of the State. Even the English intellectuals, who, as every Scandinavian knew, ought to have distrusted Germany, acknowledged the superiority of German 'Kultur' without understanding that it meant, not culture, but the worship of a Prussian apotheosis.

One of the most agreeable of Swedish professors whom I met in Christiania at the centennial of the Christiania University, went over the situation with me. I had come in contact with him especially as I had been honoured by being asked to represent Georgetown University and further honoured by being elected dean of all the American representatives, including the Mexican and South American. This was in 1911.

'Frankly,' I said, 'are not you Swedes putting all your eggs into one basket? What have you to do with the Teuton and Slavic quarrel? Do you believe for a moment that the ultra-Bismarckian policy which controls Germany will consider you anything but a pawn in the diplomatic game? I think that, as Swedes, you ought to help to consolidate Scandinavia, and your diplomatists, instead of playing into Germany's hands, ought to make it worth her while to support her, as far as you choose. You are selling yourself too cheap.'

His eyes flashed. 'You do not talk like an American,' he said. Then he remembered himself and became polite, even 'mannered.' 'I mean that you talk too much like diplomatists of the old school of secret diplomacy.'

'I believe that there are secrets in diplomacy which no diplomatist ever tells.'

'But you would have us attempt to disintegrate Russia, and, at the same time, play with Germany in order to make ourselves stronger.'

'I did not say so. For some reason or other, the Germans call you "stupid Swedes."'

'Not now. That has passed. The Germans recognise our qualities,' he added proudly. 'The English do not. The Russians look on us only as their prey. You, being an American, are pro-Russian. I have heard that you were particularly pro-Russian. Not,' he added hastily, 'that you are anti-German. The German vote counts greatly in the United States, and you could not afford to be; you might lose your "job," as one of your ministers at Stockholm called it; but you, confess it! – have a regard for the Russians.'

'They are interesting. We of the North owe them gratitude for their conduct during our Civil War. Anti-German? I love the old Germany; I love Weimar and the Tyrol; but, speaking personally, I do not love the Prussianisation of Germany. I have written against the Kulturkampf. I dislike the "Prussian Holy Ghost" who tried to rule us back in the '80's, but my German colleagues recognise the fact that I see good in the German people, and love many of their qualities.'

'Still,' laughed the professor, who knows one of my best friends in Rome, 'they say that you came abroad to live down your attacks in the Freeman's Journal on the German Holy Ghost.'

I changed the subject; that was not one of the things I had to live down.

'Germany is our only friend, our only equal intellectually, our only sympathetic relative by blood. The Norwegians hate us, the Danes dislike us. We have the same ideas as the Germans, namely, that the elect, not the merely elected, must govern. It was Martin Luther's idea, and his idea has made Germany great.'

'But there is nothing contrary to that idea in the Northern League, which Count Carl Carlson Bonde and other Swedes dreamed about, is there? You Swedes seem to believe that Martin Luther was infallible in everything but religion. He would probably like to see most of you burned, although you are all "confirmed."'

The Professor laughed: 'Paris vaut une messe,' he quoted. 'I admit that Luther would not approve of the religious point of view of our educated classes; but, at least, we have a semblance of unity, while you, like the English, have a hundred religions and only one sauce. Our Lutheranism is a great bond with Germany, as well as our love of science and our belief in authority. As to the Northern League, Count Bonde was a dreamer.'

'Everybody is a dreamer in Sweden who is not affected by the Pan-German idea. Is that it?'

'You are badly informed,' he said. 'Your Danish environment has affected you. As long as we can control our people, we shall be great. We have only to fear the Socialist. The decision in essential matters must always rest with the king and the governing classes. Our army and navy will be supported by popular vote, as in Germany; they are the guarantees of our greatness.'

This was the opinion of most of the autocratic and military – and to be military was to be autocratic – classes in 1911.

Later I spoke with one of the most distinguished of the Norwegians, Professor Morgenstjern. He seemed to be an exception to the general idolatry of German Kultur.

It was impossible to get the Swede of traditions to see that Germany's policy was to keep the three Northern nations apart – not only the Northern nations but the other small nations. When, just before the war, Christian X. and Queen Alexandrina visited Belgium on their accession the German propagandists in Scandinavia were shocked; it was infra dig. It was 'French.' 'The King and Queen of Denmark will be visiting Alsace-Lorraine and wearing the tricolour!' a disappointed hanger-on in the German Legation said.

It was my business to find out what various Foreign Offices meant, not what they said they meant. 'Of open diplomacy in the full sun, there are few modern examples. Secrecy in diplomacy has become gradually greater than it was a quarter of a century ago, not from mere reticence on the part of ministers, but to a large extent from the decline of interest in foreign affairs.'

The writer of this sentence in the Contemporary Review alluded to England. This lack of interest existed even more in the United States. And then as militarism grew in Europe, one's business was to discover what the Admiralty thought, for in Germany and Austria, even in France, after the Dreyfus scandal, one must be able to know what the military dictators were about. The newspapers had a way of discovering certain facts that Foreign Offices preferred to hide. But the most astute newspaper owing to the necessity of having a fixed political policy and the difficulty of finding men foolish enough or courageous enough to risk life for money, could rarely predict with certainty what Foreign Offices really intended to do. Besides Foreign Offices, outside of Germany, were generally 'opportunists.'

Few diplomatists of my acquaintance were deceived by the Kaiser's professions of peace. That he wanted war seemed incredible, for he had the reputation of counting the cost. He was indiscreet at times, but his 'indiscretions' never led him to the extent of giving away the intentions of the General Staff. That he wanted to turn the Baltic into a German sea was evident. The Swedish 'activist' would calmly inform you that, if this were true, Germany would treat Sweden, and perhaps the other Scandinavian countries, as Great Britain treated the United States – the Atlantic, as everybody knew, being a 'British lake' and yet free to the United States!

There was no missing link in the German propaganda in Sweden. Prussia used the Lutheran Church as she had tried to use the German Jesuits and failed. The good commonsense of the Swedish common people alone saved them from making German Kultur an integral part of their religion. When it filtered out that, notwithstanding the close relationship of the Tsaritza of Russia with the German Emperor, the Prussian Camorra had determined to control Russia, to humiliate her, to control her, there were those among the leaders who saw what this meant. They saw Finland and the Aaland Islands Germanised, and their resources, the product of their mines and of their factories, as much Germany's as Krupp's output. The bourgeoisie and the common people saw no future glory or profit in this.

The knowledge of it filtered through; the Lutheran pastor, with his dislike of democracy, his love for the autocratic monarchy, 'all power comes from God,' I heard him quote, without adding that St. Paul did not say that 'All rulers come from God,' – could not convince the hard-thinking, hard-working Swede that religion meant subjugation to a foreign power. The Lutheran Church, which, like all national churches, was hampered by the State, could give no intelligent answer to his doubts, so he turned to the Social Democrats. The governing class in Sweden seemed to take no cognisance of the growth of democracy in the hearts of the people. Germany was alive to it and feared it; but, in Sweden, rather than admit it and its practical effects, the rulers ignored it, were shocked by the great tide of emigration to the United States, yet careless of its effects on Swedish popular opinion.