Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 254, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 October 1915 — The Bookworm of Potsdam [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Bookworm of Potsdam

I Revelations of An * I Ambassador-at-Large

Transcribed by H. M. Egbert from the prorate papers of an F w g ll '«^ ,T1 * n who for a time was an unofficial diplomat in the most secret service of the British Government.

(Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.)

Was it worth the while of Germany to bring England into the field against her in order to move her troops through Belgium? It seems Impossible that the kaiser can hare considered the strategical advantage of an advance through the north more than a compensation for the locking up of his fleets in Kiel and Wilhelmshaven. It has been said he did not believe England would fight. I am in a position to clarify the mystery, although not to acquit the kaiser of rashness in his decision. Austria had launched her ultimatum against Servia, designed to provoke war. Russia had informed Count Pourtales, the German minister at St. Petersburg, that she would not demobilize. Germany had declared war on Russia, and fighting was already in progress on the French frontier. Meanwhile England sat on the fence. How bitterly the liberal cabinet was divided is now beginning to become known. Germany’s troops were mobilizing on the Belgian border. Would they violate Belgian integrity? My mission had been to discover the secret forces which were making for war. I had discovered them, had informed Sir Edward Grey, the foreign minister, of the forces at work and of the impossibility of peace. I did not expect to be called on further. On the morning of August 1, however, on the eve of hostilities between Russia and Germany, I was unexpectedly summpned to the foreign office to meet Sir Edward Grey in person. “Mr. X ,” he began as soon as the door was closed, “you are better aware than any man, except Sir Edward Goschen, at Berlin, and myself, of the exact situation.” “Yes,” I answered. v “I want you to undertake a delicate mission which is to be the culmination of your work, if you like to look on it in that way. Hitherto you have been working for the government—in this particular instance you will be aiding me, and, through me, our country." "I must tell you, relying on your discretion,” he continued, “that the cabinet is divided on the question of making a violation of Belgian territory a casus belli. If we can prevent such violation by giving the kaiser to understand it will provoke war—as I am sure it will —we can avoid war altogether. But we must convince him that the pistol is loaded. “Now, if our ambassador, Sir Edward Goschen, presents him with such an ultimatum, amour propre will compel his rejection of it. On the other hand, It should be possible to convey the news to him unofficially, but none the less resolutely. Will you undertake the task?” “You mean. Sir Edward, that I am to convey to his majesty, gently but firmly, the Intimation that if he invades Belgium England will make war on him?” I asked.

“Yes," answered Sir Edward. "But suppose the pistol isn’t loaded?” I queried. "In other words, what if he takes the risk and still England declines to enter intp the war?" "In that case you will be disavowed,” he answered frankly. "It is an unpleasant task to ask you to perform. But it is our. only chance of avoiding a bitter struggle.” "I will execute the task,” I answered, a little stiffly, for I did not relish it. I was, in fact, in the position of a poker player with a hobtailed flush. “Then you will have to hasten,” said Sir Edward, with a grim smile. “Wait a moment, Mr. X ,1 have reserved the least palatable part of the undertaking for the last, although it may lend the mission more interest in your eyes. Hallam is’leaving on your train to tell the kaiser that he can make war on Belgium and England will not raise a finger." I whistled. I saw the situation at once. Hallam, the cabinet minister who had frequently come out in plea for an Anglo-German alliance, was the leader of the peace-at-any-price party. It had been proposed to nominate him for war minister, and rumor said that Earl Kitchener, who was on leave from Egypt in London, was to be packed back unceremoniously, that he might not become A popular idol. I had' never met Hallam, but I knew him by sight intimately, as who does not? ▲ sexagenarian, with smooth face, lowering eyebrows and heavy Jaws, a man who moved in metaphysical mazes—he had translated Kant and Nietzsche and was steeped in Germanic philosophy—he was by far the ablest man of the cabinet group. “So the antiwar party have sent Mr. Hallam to Berlin to encourage the kaiser?” I inquired. Sir Edward nodded. “But they are going to lose,” he raid. "They haven’t measured the popular clamor that will arise them if they let Belgium be violated. And in such case Hallam will have pledged England falsely and committed a gross breach of faith. You seeT You must anticipate him,

“Drown him?" I asked, and Sir Edward laughed. I saw Hallam upon the platform at Liverpool Street station, suitcase in hand. I entered the same first-class compartment I felt sure he would not know me, but still I was relieved to see no glance of recognition. He looked at me blankly, shifted his seat to the far corner of the carriage, took up his Pall Mall and began to read it Presently he leaned back against the cushions and, drawing a little volume from his pocket, commenced to study it By the lights of a station into which we drew I saw that it was an essay of Schopenhauer. I tried two or three times to draw him into conversation, but be only looked up at me and grunted. I watched him closely. From the fact that he searched twice for his glasses while they were on his nose I deduced that he was absent-minded. It seemed feasible, if I could hit on the idea, to lose him en route. But that necessitated some form of acquaintance, and when we stepped aboard the night boat from Harwich to Flushing I realized that he was still as far beyond my grasp as ever. i He stayed in his cabin, a victim ot seasickness, during the entire evening. I narrowly missed him at Flushing, caught him at the railroad station, and once more secured a seat in the same compartment with him. I could see that he had no remembrance of our having traveled together from London. He was still reading his Schopenhauer when a brilliant idea came to me. I bent toward him and touched him on the arm. “Excuse me,” I said, “but I see that you are interested in my father's famous work, ‘The Will as Idea.’ ” He turned his heavy face on mine, blinking. “You —you are the son of Arthur Schopenhauer?" he inquired in astonishment. “I have that honor," I answered. "But as you are doubtless aware, my father’s relatives did not take to his marriage with an Englishwoman kindly. In fact, I was brought up in England and —” “But I thought Arthur Schopenhauer was a bachelor!” he exclaimed. Heaven forgive me for belying my parentage. What cock-and-bull story I told him about an indiscreet mqgriage in youth I cannot remember. I felt, however, that I had convinced him. I knew, too, that much of the philosopher’s early life was obscure. In half an hour we were firm friends and discussing the Will to Be and the Thing-in-Itself with all the subtlety of one steeped in philosophical lore and another racking his brains for fragments of his university learning In the long ago. There was an hour’s wait at Antwerp, and here I resolved to put my scheme into execution. We had to change; on one platform stood the Dusseldorf train, on another the Cologne. The latter was ours; it ran straight through to Berlin. We had our sleeping berths.

In the middle of our lunch in the station waiting room I found the excuse to absent myself and gather these. particulars. When I returned the old gentleman was coming from the bookstand, where he had been purchasing a German magazine with an unpronounceable name. We sat down and chatted awhile, and fortunately, as it seemed, he gave me my clue. “I am a wretched traveler,” he said. “I am wholly at sea when I go by train, and unfortunately a little deaf. I have to throw myself upon the mercy of my compatriots. You are going through to Berlin?” “Unfortunately no,” I answered. “I am afraid we part here Mr ” “Hallam,” he answered, without a moment's hesitation. “Your route lies through Cologne," I told him. “That is your train.” And I indicated the one running to Dusseldorf, which had been indicated to me by an officious functionary who had confronted me as soon as I left the buffet, and pointed to his Cook’s tourist badge. ' “It starts in a few minutes,” 1 added, helping the old gentleman toward a carriage. Grasping his umbrella, magazines and Schopenhauer, he suffered me to take charge of him. I deposited him in a corner, closed the window at his bequest, and stood outside, endeavoring by tales of my father to prevent his hearing the stentorian shouts of the porters, though I confess I heard “Dusseldorf” and “Cologne” shouted indiscriminately on all sides.

"Good-by,” I said, as the porter came along, slamming the 1 doors. “Good-by, Mr. Schopenhauer," he said, with a warm hand clasp. “We must ipeet again in London. You must call on me. I —” But the rest of his voice was lost as his train glided out of the station, and I crossed the platform, conscious that I had carried out the more important part of my mission in the most satisfactory manner.

"Tickets!" shouted a functionary, as I started toward the Cologne train. "I have a through ticket to Berlin—” I began. "You must show me your ticket,” he repeated, bristling, and I handed him the piece of pasteboard. He snatched at it and thrust it back into my hand. “There goes your train!” he shouted, pointing to the receding monster in which Mr. Hallam sat, immersed in his Schopenhauer. “But I am going by Cologne!” I exclaimed. “Well, that is the Cologne train,” he answered. "Where does the other go, then?” I demanded in dismay. “Dusseldorf!” he snarled. I have an expert knowledge of German officialdom. Although the functionary wore a couple of orders on bis breast, I handed him a half-mark, which he pocketed without any apparent loss of dignity. “There will be along a special train for Berlin in two hours,” he said grudgingly. “It is a reserved train, but you can have a seat in it. It will cost you twenty-five marks additional.” “Will it reach Berlin two hours after the first train?” I inquired, opening my purse. “No, high-born sir; the first train will be held up for it at ’Cologne,” he answered, with an eye on the gold pieces that I was fingering. Here was a stroke ot fortune! The functionary’s demeanor changed from arrogance to servility as he obsequiously received a twenty-mark piece. Two hours later I was comfortably ensconced in the special train, and, at Cologne, had the satisfaction of seeing the train containing Hallam drawn up on the siding while we flashed by. The run to Berlin occupies some sixteen hours. It was about half-past nine on the third when we reached our destination. A hurried glance at the newspapers as I sped toward the

British embassy in a taxicab convinced me that all hope of averting a general war had been abandoned. Germany and Russia were at war; German forces’ 1 * had already invaded France and Luxemburg, and a French aviator had dropped a bomb over Nuremberg. What added to the gravity of the situation was the studied absence of any news from England. No mention of British activities was made, an ominous indication that something of the highest importance was brewing.

Sir Edward Goschen received me immediately and hurriedly scanned the credentials with which Sir Edward Grey had furnished me. I had met him several times, and I was glad to see that he did not take my mission amiss. “Mr. X ,” he said, "we are in such a crisis now that only complete frankness will be of avail. A good deal has happened since you left London two days ago. The peace party has won the day; Kitchener has been packed off to Egypt; Hallam is now on his way to Berlin—” I quickly explained my meeting with Hallam, and he chuckled. "Hallam’s the most diabolically clever mind in England,” he said. “My dear X , I hate to disillusionize you, but I have no doubt your taking the wrong train was a ‘plant’ on his part. Doubtless he knew all about you, and had arranged with the functionary who gave you misleading information. You couldn’t fool Hallam on Schopenhauer.” "However, here’s the point. I had a cipher from Grey two hours ago, and he says the game’s up. Nothing but a revolution can stop the peace party. Asquith is temporizing. Burns, Morley and Harcourt have won the upper hand, and —there's nothing to be done but five way to Hallam.” “You know what this 1 means?” 1 cried. V “Yes,” he said gloomily. "Belgium overrun, England impotent, and, later, single-handed war against victorious Germany, aided and abetted by France.

However, we can’t threaten with nothing to back up our bluff.” “Sir Edward,” I pleaded, "let me try. I have an hour and a half’s start of Hallam. Let me fulfill my mission, and trust to the scheme working." "If we could stop Hallam —■” he began. “If he came here . . . but he’ll go straight to the Potsdam palace. He is persona grata there.” “Give me credentials to the kaiser himself and I’ll stop Hallam if I have to throttle him!” I exclaimed furiously. It took me ten minutes to persuade him. Finally he agreed. "But I wash my hands of all responsibility, X ,” he insisted. That satisfied me. Somehow I felt that I could stop Hallam, if I had to chloroform him in the kaiser’s anteroom. Half an hour after my arrival at Potsdam I was being shown up into a big waiting room, where one of the imperial secretaries took my card. "I will speak to his majesty," he said, in fluent English. “It would be unprecedented, even at other times, but Sir Edward Goschen has marked the letter as urgent and his majesty may spare you a few moments.” He opened a door and admitted me to a larger room. I saw nobody there. It seemed like a huge waiting room. There were pictures by German painters upon the walls and busts of the imperial ancestors. In the center was a large table of mahogany, with the day’s papers ranged upon it and chairs drawn up around it. The far end of the room was occupied by an enormous bookshelf, built into the wall, but projecting for a considerable distance. In the center was a door, slightly ajar, which appeared to give admittance to the interior of the shelves, something like those doors which we see in public libraries. Through the crack 1 could discern the light of an electric bulb. As I entered the room I fancied 1 heard a rustle come from within this

library space. I went forward quietly, my feet falling without a sound upon the thick pile of the carpet. I approached the bookshelves, and now I saw a shadow upon the floor inside the door. I looked in. To my unutterable surprise Hallam was standing there, his back toward me, apparently absorbed in reading the titles of the books in front of him in the alcove.

For a moment I was bewildered; then the explanation dawned on me. He must have made arrangements to have his coach switched to our special, which had stopped for a few minutes at a siding two miles beyond Cologne. He had anticipated me, and was even now awaiting audience with the kaiser. Quick as a thought I made my resolution. It was a difficult one for a man of my own age; but I had not served eight years on the Indian frontier without learning how to silence a man. Noiselessly I stepped to the door. It opened without a sound. I stood inside, one hand upon the swinging edge, the other thrust forward.. Just then Hallam turned round. He started and turned his short-sighted, blinking'eyes upon me in doubt and, I thought, fear. As he turned I slammed the door behind me and leaped at him. He fought with surprising strength and agility for a man of his yean and constitution —though we must both have been of the same age. The muscles of his arms, though flabby, were of huge, girth. I had forgotten that he had been educated at a German gymnasium in his youth. He puffed and spluttered as he struggled with me, and I could not get my hand over his mouth. I had been afraid that the old gentleman would scream, but to my relief, he seemed to realize that my presence would compromise him as much as his would compromise me. We fought in absolute silence, .swaying against the shelves and staggering about the little alcove under the electric light. Instinctively we kept away from the door.

I meant to gag him, bnt now It seemed that our strength was too evenly matched tor any speedy triumph. 'At’best I must wear down his ill-conditioned body. We bumped from shelf to shelf, and the grasp of his powerful arms about my chest constricted it and made me gasp for breath. Suddenly Hallam retreated to the extreme limits of the little alcove, and then, as I made for him, lowering his massive head, he came for me like a bull, with the intention' of throwing me and stunning me against the edge of the door. I saw his maneuver and half evaded him, but the impact of the rush swept me ofT my feet, and, clutching wildly at him, I fell with all my weight against one of the Interior shelves. Instantly the woodwork cracked and sprang apart. I seemed to plunge right through the bookcase; then the whole mass of shelves came down, burying us both beneath their contents, and sending up a cloud of dust, together with a crashing sound that must have been heard through half the palace. Lying there beneath the boards I realized an astonishing fact. The books were dummies —painted boards within the shelves. The little alcove was evidently used as a spying place by the imperial secretaries. How the door had happened to be open I cannot surmise. The board before my eyes was painted in imitation of the five volumes of the great work of Schopenhauer. Through a gap in the dummy books in front of me I could see into the anteroom. I dreaded each moment that the secretaries would rush in. But nobody stirred. And, lying there, half choked with dust, I still endeavored to carry out my purpose. We must have made two comical figures—two gentlemen of an age which is associated with dignity, clutching at each other’s throats amid the debris. I saw Hallam beside me, prone on his face, blinking the dust out of his eyes—and then something happened which imposed on both of us a truce. For the door of the anteroom opened and two figures strode in. One was Sir Edward Goschen, our ambassador;* the other was the kaiser himself, in the uniform of a British colonel. It was impossible to mistake the short and rather plump figure, the upturned mustaches, the left arm, shorter than the right by several inches and partly paralyzed. The kaiser strode angrily into the room, turned, and, facing Sir Edward Goschen, with a single sweep of his right arm tore the medals from his uniform and sent them spinning upon the floor. “That will show you what I think of your English decorations!” he cried. Sir Edward bowed, and then did something that has never been recorded in my dispatches. I think it was the finest retort that could have been made. For he went down on his hands and knees and picked up the medals — one from under the table, another from beneath a chair, a third from the base of the bookshelves.- He placed them together in his pocket, got up, dusted the legs of his trousers, and faced the kaiser again. And I understand that he was honoring the orders which his sovereign had bestowed upon Germany's ruler, and did not scruple to perform the menial task of picking them up after they had been dishonored—or after the kaiser had dishonored himself by throwing them down. "I shall convey these orders to my sovereign, sir, with your statement,” he answered.

The kaiser waved his single useful arm aloft dramatically. “You have sealed your own doom!” he cried. “What do you think you can do against Germany with your contemptible little army? In six weeks my troops will enter London. You have stabbed me in the back with your miserable shopkeepers’ war, designed to injure Germany when she is engaged with two powerful antagonists.” Sir Edward bowed again. *1 am not at liberty to discuss my country’s motives or the prospects of sir, but merely to present your majesty with Great Britain’s ultimatum,” he said. “And let me remind your majesty that, though you have renounced your English decorations, you have not yet definitely rejected Great Britain’s ultimatum, which expires at midnight. If Germany’s troops immediately evacuate Belgium—" “You will remain neutral, I suppose,” snapped the kaiser. “What difference does it make to me?” K “By no means, sir,” replied the British ambassador suavely. "We do not offer our neutrality as a condition of Germany’s evacuation of Belgiufn, but merely a withdrawal of our ultimatum and the reference back of the matter for the further consideration of the British cabinet” “You shall receive your answer in six weeks," the kaiser snapped, “when German troops enter London as conquerors.” With a gesture of disdain he turned on bis heel and left the anteroom. Sir Edward remained silent standing beßide the table. It had been a difficult ordeal, and he had conducted himself with dignity and selfrestraint I heard Hallam groan in anguish of spirit beneath the boards. He knew that fortune had shattered his scheme at the critical moment He struggled slowly to his feet “Come, my friend, there is no need to discuss this matter further,” he said to me. ' And together we passed through the library door into the anteroom, where Sir Edward Goschen was still stand-

ing, turning a puzzled glance-tfpon the bookshelves. » a - It did equal credit to his good nature that he refrained from smiling when our two dusty, disheveled figures presented themselves before him. "My dear Mr. Hallam, you must have had a bad fall in there,” suavely, though there was tfJitMlkle in his eyes that belied his wof44 ?you are acquainted with my friend, Mr.—-" "I have just had the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance with our mutual friend, Mr. Schopenhaueganswered Mr. Hallam, and I knew that the blessed sense of humor remained to compensate him for any dignity that he had lost in the scuffle. do you know, Schopenhauer, I have occasionally thought that your fatuous father's thesis that the Will is represented by the Idea in action is not always correct?" "That may be so, Mr. Hallam," I returned, “but then my father did not contemplate a philosophy represented by painted boards on dummy shelves." Which was not much of a retort, but it set us laughing. "Well, gentlemen,” said Sir Edward, after we had adjusted our apparel as well as could be done, "things are going to grow lively for Englishmen in Germany now, and I shall be happy to accommodate you at the .embassy and to facilitate your exit aboard our special train.” . That evening, while the mob stoned our windows, he told me of the quiet coup d’etat in England; how he had received Information a few minutes after I left that Kitchener was in the war office and the peace party out of power, by virtue of a great parliamentary revolt. The wisdom of England’s choice was to be seen later upon the battlefields of France. At one o’clock we left Berlin. Our nation was at war with Germany.

"You Mean, Sir Edward, That I Am to Convey to His Majesty, Gently but Firmly, the Intimation That If He Invades Belgium Engiand Will Make War on Him?”