Face to Face with Kaiserism | Page 6

German Kaiser wrote to
President Wilson on August tenth, observe that all is personal. The
Kaiser says, "I telegraphed to His Majesty the King, personally, but
that if, etc., I would employ my troops elsewhere.... His Majesty
answered that he thought my offer...." He speaks of the King of the
Belgians "having refused my petition for a free passage." He refers to
"my Ambassador in London."
This telegram shows, on the other hand, another thing,--the great ability
of the Kaiser. Undoubtedly he knew why I was coming to see him--to
present the offer of mediation of President Wilson--but from our
conversation I do not think that he had even in his mind prepared the
answer, which sets forth his position in entering the war.

He said, "Wait a moment, I shall write something for the President."
Then taking the telegraph blanks lying on the table, he wrote rapidly
and fluently. It was a message in a foreign language, and, whatever we
may think of its content, at any rate it is clear, concise, consecutive and
forceful.
The personal touch runs through that extraordinary series of telegrams
in the famous "Willy-Nicky" correspondence between Kaiser Wilhelm
and the last of the Romanoffs, discovered in Petrograd by Herman
Bernstein. These reveal, moreover, the surpassing craft of the German
Kaiser. He was the master schemer. Touting for German trade, always
for his advantage, he twists the poor half-wit of the Winter Palace like a
piece of straw.
Emperor William was not satisfied with a quiet life as patron of trade.
As he studied the portraits of his ancestors, he felt that they gazed at
him with reproachful eyes, demanded that he add, as did they, to the
domains of the Hohenzollerns, that he return from war in triumph at the
head of a victorious army with the keys of fallen cities borne before
him in conquering march.
One-tenth of Frederick the Great's people fell, but to the
poverty-stricken peasant woman of Prussia, lamenting her husband and
dead sons, did it matter that the rich province of Silesia had been added
to the Prussian Crown? What was it to that broken mother whether the
Silesian peasants acknowledged the Prussian King or the Austrian
Empress? Despots both. And what countless serfs fell in the wars
between the King and the Empress! I once asked von Jagow when this
war would end. He answered, "An old history of the Seven Years' War
concludes, 'The King and the Empress were tired of war, so they made
peace.' That is how this war will end." Will it? Will it end in a draw, to
be resumed when some king feels the war fever on him? No, this war
must end despots, and with them all wars!
It is all such a matter of personal whim. For instance before Bulgaria
entered the war on the side of Germany, even the best informed
Germans predicted that King Ferdinand would never join Germany
because of an incident which occurred in the Royal Palace of Berlin.

This is how it happened:
It is the custom for one monarch to make his pals in the King business
officers of his army or navy. Thus the German Emperor was General
Field Marshal and Proprietor of the 34th "William the first, German
Emperor and King of Prussia" Infantry, and of the 7th "William the
Second, German Emperor and King of Prussia" Hussars, in the
Austro-Hungarian Army; Chief of the "King Frederick William III St.
Petersburg Life Guards," the 85th "Viburg" Infantry and the 13th
"Narva" Hussars, and the "Grodno" Hussars of the Guard, in the
Russian Army; Field Marshal in British Army; Hon. Admiral of the
British Fleet and Colonel-in-Chief 1st Dragoons; General in the
Swedish Army and Flag Admiral of the Fleet; Hon. Admiral of the
Norwegian and Danish Fleets; Admiral of the Russian Fleet; Hon.
Captain-General in the Spanish Army and Hon. Colonel of the 11th
"Naumancia" Spanish Dragoons; and Hon. Admiral of the Greek Fleet.
The King of Bulgaria was Chief of the 4th Thuringia Infantry Regiment
No. 72, in the Prussian Army. As per custom, on a visit to Berlin he
donned his uniform of the Thuringian Infantry. He had put on a little
weight, and military unmentionables, be it known, are notoriously tight.
So as he leaned far out of the Palace window to admire the passing
troops, he presented a mark so tempting that the Emperor, in jovial
mood, was impelled to administer a resounding spank on the sacred
seat of the Czar of all the Balkans. Instead of taking the slap in the
same jovial spirit in which it was given the Czar Ferdinand, a little
jealous of the self-assumed title of Czar, became furiously angry--so
angry that even the old diplomats of the Metternich school believed for
a time that