Dramatic Moments in American Diplomacy/Chapter Fourteen
Premonitions—The King of Prussia's Precious Doctrines in 1823—The Oppressed Revolutionists of Germany—Début of the Prussian Bully in Samoa—The Emperor's Fatal Birthday—The Advent of the Famous Formula: "Impossible Ultimatum, Instant Defensive Invasion and Annexation"—Leary of the Adams Takes a Hand—Schrecklichkeit Foiled by a Hurricane—"The Organization of Failure in the Midst of Hate"—Why the Kaiser Did Not Take Uncle Sam by "The Scruff of the Neck"—"If You Want a Fight, You Can Have It Now"—Roosevelt Calls the Teuton Bluff—A Case of Arbitration—Designs on the Caribbean—An Opinion by John Hay.
A survey of the actions of the Imperial German Government which are the basis of the deep-seated conviction of our Department of State that the Hohenzollern dynasty has far-reaching designs upon the integrity of American soil and the inviolability of the "American System" reveals that they date from the decision of the Kaiser to drop Bismarck, the great pilot. The Iron Chancellor developed to its deadly conclusion the brutal policy of the Great Frederick, and deserves the lion's share of the discredit for the fatal ambition for conquest and dominion that has undermined the Teutonic character. But since his designs were definitely confined to other spheres they gave the United States no cause for alarm. In fact, up to that time our experience with the German people had been the reverse of suspicious. The country had welcomed great numbers of them,whom, even in the passions of to-day, no one can accuse of being advocates of blood and iron militarism run a-muck, or aspirants for the first tier of boxes in the sun. They were revolters against regal prerogative, and came in the name of Liberty and joined the ranks of the Union forces in the Civil War for emancipation. The consequence was that our assumption was heavily in favour of the German a decade ago.
The first sign we had that a "superman" was being evolved contained little portent of danger to the continent we guard so jealously. But it aroused in America a sudden realization of an important event—the arrival of a new and particularly disgusting character on the international stage. It was the début in Washington of the Prussian bully. He was discovered swaggering insolently down the shores of the Pacific, twirling his mustachios and kicking the pedestrians in the selfsame manner so familiar on the sidewalks of Potsdam.
It happened in Samoa. The Samoans were a picturesque, comely and gentle people, whose sole faults were a childish irresponsibility in regard to their neighbours' cocoanuts and an inherent inability to determine who should be king. A short time previously the consuls of England, the United States and Germany had settled a difference of opinion by making one rival claimant, Malietoa Laupepa, king, and another, Tamasese, vice-king. Thus as Stevenson says: "in addition to the old conundrum, 'Who is the King?' they had supplied a new one, 'What is a vice-king?'"
Malietoa Laupepa was a very kindly, trusting, high-minded old fellow, whose mild and gentle disposition made him an easy mark for the preliminary canters of frightfulness. His rule at most was only nominal as far as European interests were concerned. The three consuls presided over a neutral territory about the port of Apia, and acted as an advisory board for the monarch.
There had been some trouble due to petty thefts from the plantation of a German firm. This firm was presided over at the time by Captain Brandeis, an artillery officer whose warlike intentions and predilections were so sedulously concealed that he pretended to be a mere clerk in the office. The Germans had insisted upon putting the thieves in a private jail of their own, and exacting from the helpless old king satisfaction of a nature so drastic as to bring forth violent protests from the English and American consuls. The matter had been made the subject of an international conference in Washington, which adjourned on July 26, 1885. It was understood that this adjournment was for the consuls to get further instructions from home and in the meantime that no action should be taken by any government.
Nevertheless pretty soon the port of Apia began to resemble a royal review at Wilhelmshaven. The King was in the interior, the petty thieves were in jail, and the island was as quiet and dreamy as a picture of Heaven. By the end of August, 1887, there were five German ships of war in the obscure little bay. Robert Louis Stevenson thus describes the subsequent amazing proceedings:
"They waited inactive, as a burglar waits till the patrol goes by, and on the 23d, when the mail had left for Sydney, when the eyes of the world were withdrawn, and Samoa plunged again for a period of weeks into her original island obscurity, Becker opened his guns. [Becker was the German Consul.] The policy was too cunning to seem dignified. * * * and helped shake men's reliance on the word of Germany. On the day named, an ultimatum reached Malietoa at Afenga, whither he had retired months before to avoid friction. A fine of one thousand dollars and an ifo, or public humiliation, were demanded for the affair of the Emperor's birthday. Twelve thousand dollars were to be 'paid quickly' for thefts from German plantations in the course of the last four years." Becker concluded by saying he would be at Afenga next morning at 11 o'clock.
This was the same old game, then new to us, cropping up in the South Seas—an outrageous demand, coupled with an explosive ultimatum attached to a short-timed fuse.
The thefts were negligible and had been settled already. The only new matter was this terrible "affair of the Emperor's birthday."
Let us look into it. On March 22d, which was undoubtedly the birthday of the Emperor, some Germans assembled in a public bar in the neutral territory of Apia. Much drinking and "hoching" finally resulted in a "squabble" with some other convivialists, ending in what Becker called a riot. For this, four natives were arrested, and haled before a German magistrate. He acquitted one of these. The others he convicted of assault. The case was appealed to the full court—that is, the three consuls together. The American and British consuls considered the charges petty and unproved and reversed the decision. And that was the whole business called by the German Commander "The trampling upon, by Malietoa, of the German Emperor." It was not even mentioned three months later in the conference between the three nations at Washington.
At 11 a. m. Becker was at the place named. The King asked for a day's delay to consider. Becker declared war on the spot, appointed the bewildered Tamasese King under the super- vision and protection of the redoubtable Bran- deis and the five warships, ran the German flag over his headquarters, and declared his jurisdiction over the whole works, including the neutral territory. He seized the harmless old King of Samoa and shipped him off a prisoner to Germany. The poor fellow appealed in vain to the justice of heaven and the protection of the consuls.
But in Washington the affair was not so lightly regarded. It constituted a breach of faith almost inconceivable to them and the pretext was as stupid as it was brazen. To begin with, that the Kaiser was such a holy idol that any disturbance upon his birthday in any part of the earth was sacrilege and lèse majesté was a novel and startling discovery. That the King of Samoa lying under the palms fifty miles away could be responsible for a tavern brawl in a neutral seaport, distinctly outside his jurisdiction, and distinctly inside of that of the three consuls—a neutrality which the Samoans scrupulously observed even in the midst of war—was too much for the world to swallow.
The American and British consuls refused to recognize the new king, or the German jursidiction. The islanders rose under another leader, a romantic and Herculean youth named Mataafa, and war broke loose. The Germans, believing the situation in hand, let some of their ships go. The Americans believing otherwise dispatched Captain Leary, a belligerent and humorous Irishman, to the scene with the Adams.
The Germans now considered that they owned the islands, and they set out to quell "the rebels"—that is, the Samoans. They sailed down the coast to bombard the villages. Leary stuck by his guns. He refused to recognize either the Germans or Tamasese. He got between the Germans and their targets. He was certainly guilty of lèse majesté himself.
The affair got worse. The Germans tried to storm the Samoan camp and were repulsed with great loss. In a fury, they then declared martial law, with edicts prophetic of later days. "The crime of inciting German troops by any means, as, for instance, informing them of proclamations by the enemy, was punishable with death; that of publishing or secretly distributing anything, whether printed or written, bearing on the war, and that of calling or attending a public meeting, unless permitted, with prison or deportation." These rules they declared applied to Americans and English as well as natives, including the consuls.
The British consul flung back a flat defiance and three American warships arrived very quickly under Captain Hand to discuss the affair. What the end might have been, nobody knows. For a while the brokers on 'change were watching the tickers in New York and London for news of the first shot meaning war, when a hurricane came out of the West and threw practically the whole flotilla in splinters on the beach, and Bismarck was put to the necessity of disavowing the whole game. Still there is no record of iron crosses being distributed to the warriors of the chivalrous Mataafa, who, when they saw their enemies drowning before their eyes, plunged in and saved them by the hundred.
But he could not withdraw object lesson number one, of which Stevenson said "the German breach of faith was public and express; it must have been deliberately premeditated: and it was resented in the States as a deliberate insult." And caused him to make further remarks which, if taken to heart in Berlin, would have saved a world of trouble. One was with regard to the German consul: "If the object of diplomacy be the organization of failure in the midst of hate, he was a great diplomatist."
The other was equally penetrating:
"The German flag might wave over her puppet unquestioned, but there is a law of human nature which diplomatists should be taught at school, and it seems they are not: that men can tolerate base injustice, but not the combination of injustice and subterfuge. Hence the chequered career of the thimble-rigger."
The second warning the United States received of German ambitions was more direct and more dangerous. It recalled the archaic but more frank declaration of the regal combination of 1823, when the King of Prussia had joined with the Emperors of Europe for the avowed purpose of suppressing all republics in general, and those in South America in particular. That "convention" we never held up against the Kaiser, because it was an insanity prevalent at the time in all Europe, and the natural hang-over from the era of absolute monarchs from which that continent was just emerging. But the year 1898 was an entirely different matter.
William McKinley had determined to recognize and establish the independence of the island of Cuba. For a century the Royal Spanish Government had failed to produce anything there except riot, anarchy, misery, and confusion. War was impending. This appeared to the councils of Potsdam to be an opportune moment to assert themselves, and to acquaint the world with three or four self-evident but neglected facts. One was that the pretention of the United States that affairs in America were her sole concern was an impertinence and a dead letter, not to be recognized by an omnipotent sovereign holding dominion under high heaven; another was that a "debating society," that ridiculous form of govermnent, a democracy, which by its very existence was an insult to Majesty, should be taught the respect due a legitimate queen-regent. And the third was the familiar axiom that no affair of importance should be undertaken anywhere in the world without consulting the German Army and the German Kaiser.
So it is reliably reported that Von Holleben, the German Ambassador, and Von Hengelmüller, his Austrian understudy, convened the Diplomatic Corps in Washington under instructions from Berlin to have the Yankees presented with an order beginning and ending with the single word "Verboten." This program would have been carried through, and the rough-riders have found themselves confronted with an entirely different proposition, except for one obstacle—a constant and obstinate obstacle, beginning even then to be regarded by the Kaiser as the one fountain of all evil and sacrilege in the world—to-wit, the navy of England. Sir Julian Pauncefote insisted that England could make no such arrangement—must be left free to act as circumstances might dictate. Feeling pretty sure that these circumstances would dictate an unexpected visit to Heligoland in case the German fleet happened to be out chastising the shade of the immortal Monroe, the meeting concluded to confine their offices to a polite remonstrance, which was reported in an article in the World's Work in this wise:
"Said the six ambassadors: 'We hope for humanity's sake that you will not go to war.' Said Mr. McKinley, in reply: 'We hope if we do go to war that you will understand that it is for humanity's sake.' The best evidence of how this conclusion satisfied the Kaiser is contained in his own words: 'If I had only had a fleet, I would have taken Uncle Sam by the scruff of the neck.'"
But the Kaiser's last card had not yet been played. He did have a formidable squadron in Asiatic waters, with instructions which can only be guessed at, but from subsequent proceedings pretty well imagined. Admiral Von Diederich headed this squadron to Manila, and began his pleasantries shortly after the defeat of the Spanish Navy there. Admiral Dewey, the soul of naval etiquette, but no Polish peasant, was at first unable to understand manœuvres originating in the conception that the Kaiser's orders were sufficient reason for any action on earth. Dewey was blockading the harbour and, by the rules of the sea, as well as by the established code of International Law, no vessels of any kind could enter except by his permission. Von Diederich sailed the Irene in without as much as "with your leave." Dewey knew he was discourteous, but supposed he was ignorant. However, when the Cormoran followed suit, the Admiral brought her to with solid shot across the bow, and then pretty soon the premeditation behind this affair began to develop. Dewey casually mentioned that it was hardly customary for a friendly squadron visiting a blockaded port on the eve of hostilities to come in force greater than the blockader commanded. Von Diederich haughtily replied that such were the Kaiser's orders.
Doubtless it was also the Kaiser's orders which induced the German sailor to threaten the Philippine auxiliaries of the United States, and openly to send supplies to the besieged garrison. This last act brought affairs to a head. Dewey was a diplomat. As such he knew the proper way to deal with this particular manifestation. His message was:
"Say to Admiral Von Diederich that if he wants a fight, he can have it now!"
Von Diederich wanted the fight. But he did not want any unknown quantities about it. So he sent over to the English commander, Captain Chichester, riding at anchor in the vicinity, and asked what he would do if Von Diederich interfered with Dewey. Chichester's answer was discouraging, a naval corollary to Sir Julian's diplomacy. It was to the effect that he knew, and that Dewey knew, what he would do.
To test this remark the German lined up in menacing array when Dewey steamed in to open the attacks on the forts. Chichester, smiling, pulled up anchor, and casually sailed in between.
Diplomacy is no less diplomacy because it is conducted on shipboard and not in a cabinet in the Wilhelmstrasse.
The first warning signal was in Samoa. The second at Manila. On the third occasion the Kaiser had the rank misfortune to have Theodore Roosevelt to deal with. In such affairs Roosevelt has nothing in common with "the reign of chatter." Congress never found this out until years later when the facts were published in the "Life of John Hay."
To the Prussian mind a particularly favourable occasion had arisen for a test of the Monroe Doctrine. Their invariable formula for acquiring any desirable property, followed to the letter in all of their little defensive enterprises including the bombardment of Belgrade, is very clever. It ought to hoodwink and satisfy everybody. It is an astonishing thing that it does not. No German can understand it. Take any demand, provided it is absolutely unreasonable, frame it in the most arrogant and lordly manner possible, and throw it into the territory. If it is not acquiesced in by sunset, march a "defensive" army into the place, or start a "defensive" bombardment. What could be more reasonable, or more convincing? Particularly since objection on the part of any one is conclusive proof that he belongs to an inferior race.
Venezuelans owed the Germans some money. The Germans had "claims" against them. Claims constitute the principal commodity as well as supply the principal topic of all talk—social, political, or merely casual—in this interesting country. But even a Venezuela claim has this in common with the ordinary variety. It has two sides. It is capable of producing a difference of opinion concerning its validity and volume. Of course, any one will have to agree, however, that a claim held by the Kaiser is another matter. For, obviously, there exists no living human, not to mention Venezuelan being, capable of doubting the Kaiser's decision upon any subject, much less a claim. Since Venezuela had the audacity to delay and dispute payment a great opportunity had arrived. Out went the demand, and hard upon it came the invincible Armada.
John Hay, Secretary of State, taking note of this affair, pointed out that the United States had an ancient rule, by which they set great store, to the effect that no excuse would do for invading American soil. The Kaiser politely replied that if he found it necessary to take Venezuelan territory it would only be for "temporary" occupation.
In an appendix to Mr. William Roscoe Thayer's Life of John Hay, Mr. Roosevelt describes what happened then as follows:
"I also became convinced that Germany intended to seize some Venezuelan harbour and turn it into a strongly fortified place of arms, on the model of Kiauchau, with a view to exercising some degree of control over the future Isthmian Canal, and over South American affairs generally.
"For some time the usual methods of diplomatic intercourse were tried. Germany declined to agree to arbitrate the question at issue between her and Venezuela, and declined to say that she would not take possession of Venezuelan territory, merely saying that such possession would be "temporary"—which might mean anything. I finally decided that no useful purpose would be served by further delay, and I took action accordingly. I assembled our battle fleet (there were more than fifty ships including every battleship and destroyer we had), under Admiral Dewey, near Porto Rico, for "manœuvres," with instructions that the fleet should be kept in hand and in fighting trim, and should be ready to sail at an hour's notice. The fact that the fleet was in West Indian waters was of course generally known; but I believe that the Secretary of the Navy, and Admiral Dewey, and perhaps his Chief of Staff, and the Secretary of State, John Hay, were the only persons who knew about the order for the fleet to be ready to sail at an hour's notice. I told John Hay that I would now see the German Ambassador, Herr von Holleben, myself, and that I intended to bring matters to an early conclusion. Our navy was in very efficient condition, being superior to the German navy.
"I saw the Ambassador, and explained that in view of the presence of the German squadron on the Venezuelan coast I could not permit longer delay in answering my request for an arbitration, and that I could not acquiesce in any seizure of Venezuelan territory. The Ambassador responded that his Government could not agree to arbitrate, and that there was no intention to take "permanent" possession of Venezuelan territory. I answered that Kiau- chau was not a "permanent" possession of Germany's—that I understood that it was merely held by a ninety-nine years' lease; and that I did not intend to have another Kiauchau, held by similar tenure, on the approach to the Isthmian Canal. The Ambassador repeated that his government would not agree to arbitrate. I then asked him to inform his government that if no notification for arbitration came within a certain specified number of days I should be obliged to order Dewey to take his fleet to the Venezuelan coast and see that the German forces did not take possession of any territory. He expressed very grave concern, and asked me if I realized the serious consequences that would follow such action; consequences so serious to both countries that he dreaded to give them a name. I answered that I had thoroughly counted the cost before I decided on the step, and asked him to look at the map, as a glance would show him that there was no spot in the world where Germany in the event of a conflict with the United States would be at a greater disadvantage than in the Caribbean Sea.
"A few days later the Ambassador came to see me, talked pleasantly on several subjects, and rose to go. I asked him if he had any answer to make from his government to my request, and when he said no, I informed him that in such event it was useless to wait as long as I had intended, and that Dewey would be ordered to sail twenty-four hours in advance of the time I had set. He expressed deep apprehension, and said that his government would not arbitrate. However, less than twenty-four hours before the time I had appointed for cabling the order to Dewey, the Embassy notified me that His Imperial Majesty the German Emperor had directed him to request me to undertake the arbitration myself. I felt, and publicly expressed, great gratification at this outcome, and great appreciation of the course the German Government had finally agreed to take. Later I received the consent of the German Government to have the arbitration undertaken by the Hague Tribunal, and not by me."
Von Holleben was recalled in disgrace by the Kaiser and dismissed from the Diplomatic Service.
There is one other interesting side light on this whole affair. In the American navy there were then as there are now many officers with German names and lineage. They were then as now patriotic Americans and Mr. Roosevelt took particular pains that in so far as their naval fitness allowed these men were in service on the battle fleet under Dewey so that the Kaiser might get the most unmistakable evidence that any dependence he placed on hyphenism here would cost him dear.
These matters, and many more—such as the thwarted effort of the Kaiser to establish a naval base at the entrance of the Gulf of Mexico, and his abortive attempt to purchase two "private" harbours on the Pacific Ocean—these matters and many more constitute the working basis upon which American distrust of the protagonists of "Kultur" was built, long before the Lusitania. Those interested in John Hay's keen perception of the danger should read the chapter of William Roscoe Thayer's life of the great statesman, who "would rather be the dupe of China than the chum of the Kaiser." It shows that he put his finger on each and every certain sign of Teuton duplicity and propaganda, not forgetting the German-American traitors enrolled under Prince Henry's banner. Of these he said:
"The prime motive of every German-American is hostility to every country in the world, including America, which is not friendly to Germany. * * *"
It is small wonder, that knowing what he knew, Roosevelt wanted no time wasted waiting for "proofs." Proofs a-plenty had been written large before ever a gun was fired.
THE END