Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 291, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 December 1915 — A Patriot’s Dilemma [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A Patriot’s Dilemma

Revelation* of An Ambassador-at-Large

Transcribed by H. M. Egbert from the private papers of an IF—glhJiman who for a time was an unofficial diplomat in the most secret service of the British Government.

(Copyright. 1815, by W. G. Chapman.)

It yon were to ask any diplomatist of experience in what the real satisfaction of his calling consists, I think he would answer that it is in dissecting and unraveling the mixed motives that animate the actions of that strange animal —man. At least, that was the fascination of the diplomatic life to me, during my years of service. „ And when, through an indiscretion, s combination of events which overcame my prudence, I was unable to serve his majesty longer In an accredited post, I found the old opportunity for psychological observation in no way diminished. As an ambassa-dor-at-large, with - less responsibility and more freedom, engaged upon a task that carried me from capital to capital, I was able to study the mindß of many men who previously had been unknown quantities to me. Take, for example, the case of John Redpaond, in many ways perhapsj the most unique figure in Europe. Leader of a movement having for its immediate pnrpose the autonomy of Ireland, and for its ultimate the almost avowed object of Irish independence, In any country but Great Britain he would have been a plotter, an exile, a fugitive. Yet here he was, Great Britain's chief antagonist, a man behind whom were ranged the voices of ten million dissatisfied subjects of the crown, banqueted, feted, in firm alliance with a great political party, and holding the fate of England in the hollow of his hand. He could take up all the reins of intrigue that restrained they restive horses of the Imperial charioteer: Ireland, India, Egypt, Irish America, and, greatest of all, Germany. A word from him could encircle England with a host of foes; a word, too, could link Ireland’s destinies with England’s irrevocably. Although in the early months of 1914 the usual peace talk was unusually to the fore, it was no secret among the well informed that Germany was planning a gigantic coup, having for its object her hegemony in Europe and the destruction of the British empire. Often enough had Germany been nerved to the point of throwing down the gage, but always prudence had won against hate and envy. Now, however, certain facts had to be taken into consideration which were not present at other crises. In the first place, the recently formed money trust, represented in Austria by the Weisknopfs; and dominant in other capitals, had come to the conclusion that by a German victory it could best carry out its schemes for the financial domination of the world. Secondly, it had always been an axiom among Germany’s rulers . that war alone could consolidate her 'position, The philosophy of her Treitschkes, Bernhardis and Tlrpitzes was the antlchristian promulgation of Nietzsche, that might was right, and “Vae Victis.”

Thirdly, the upkeep of a gigantic army and navy had become too great to be borne, and the cannonmakers demanded a fresh output that Bhould eclipse all their previous productions and stimulate their business. So did their shareholders, among whom were men prominent in court circles. Add the foot that Russia was reorganizing her army, that a report read In the French senate had demonstrated France’s unreadiness for war. Add that the Kiel canal had just been deepened to accommodate the largest dreadnaughtß, and that for Germany it was a case of now or never. But consider most of all that Ireland was on the verge of civil war, and that Erigland, Germany’s most formidable antagonist, was believed thus to be hopelessly crippled. And that is why I say that in John Redmond’s hands lay the destinies of thp British empire. I had fulfilled the first part of the tngfr assigned to me by the British foreign minister, Sir Edward Grey. I had discovered these secret springs of war and had warned the British government of what was in preparation. But I had reason to believe that the government, perplexed and distracted by the Irish question, paid less respect to my warning than was necessary. Meanwhile, in Berlin, in the Ballplatz, all eyes were tprned upon Ulster. The importance which the Irish difficulties assumed in the eyes of continental statesmen may be gauged from the fact that the day when an Irish settlement was .officially announced to be impossible—July 24 — was the day when Austria launched her preposterous ultimatum against Serbia. It will be remembered that the conference which his majesty called at Buckingham palace, in a last desperate attempt to avert civil war in Ireland, lasted two days. On the second day, while London was filled with varying rumors, I was seated in the club flunking room, listening to the animated conversation of a number of the diplomatic and military officers who flrsqaontod it.

Old General Burbidge, red of face, was inveighing against John Redmond from the depths of his morocco-cov-ered chair. “That felloyr,” he said caustically, “is planning the ruin of the British empire. What are we thinking of, to have tolerated him all these years? If I had my way I’d whip the Irish party out of Westminster and hang Redmond, Dillon, Healy and Devlin on London bridge.” I could not help smiling at this sally, knowing General Burbidge to be the most kind-hearted of men, a valiant soldier who would , not have hurt a flea, except in battle. Launceford, of the home office, tugged at his long mustache deprecatingly. “You’d run the British empire on the German model, eh, general?” he asked. “No, confound you! But why should we tolerate a nest of vipers at the heart of the empire?” “The Irish have done good service in most of our wars, general,” Interposed Tarrant of the war office. “Then what’s the matter with ’em?” demanded the general. “Why do they stir up this devil’s shindy? Ulster’s contented under our rule. Why can’t the others be? Is anybody hurting ’em?” * Launceford leaned forward and dropped his voice as he spoke. I perceived the reason in the presence of Hans, our German smoking-room attendant, who was ostensibly filling the match boxes. The German peril was already beginning to be understood in the club rooms of London.

“Do know, general, that there is positive proof that the money paid for the nationalist rifips came from a source in Hamburg?” he asked. "Yes, I know," answered Burbidge, at once a model of decorum and propriety. “Don’t you suppose Redmond knows that?” continued Launceford. “Don’t you suppose he’s playing a devilish deep game of his own?" “Launceford,” said the old general, “I made a tour in Ireland three weeks ago. Not a mission—just a private and partly professional tour. I was at a little town in Fermanagh—Bally something or other. What did I see? Nationalist and Orange volunteers, armed against each other, ready to fly at each other’s throats the moment the signal was given, and —practicing shooting at the same target, by Harry! Practicing at a target—a line of targets, rather, which they had bought by Joint subscription. Where in the world could you find such a spectacle except in Ireland? That will show you bow much of this disloyalist movement is original and how much is fomented. Now, sir, what’s Redmond’s game? If he’B playing for Ireland alone—”

“Hang him on the London bridge?” suggested Launceford quizzically. “No, sir. Give the beggar what he wants to stop his infernal trouble making. But if he’s playing Germany’s game too, take him —” I shall not repeat the old general’s infernal suggestion. Of course he had no such desire. But I think Burbidge’s attitude was the normal attitude of most Englishmen during those terrible days. And while they talked the conference sat in Buckingham palace, and a vast crowd outside waited for the news which would mean peace or war in Ireland, first, and then in England also. * I have mentioned old Hans, the smoking-room attendant. In those days Englishmen were already beglnlng to suspect that Germany had built a network of espionage about their country. How complete it was, only a few of us were aware. I had noticed that Hans was a long time filling the match boxes, but he did not occupy a very large place'in my consciousness just then. The fact is, I, too, wsts wondering just what part John Redmond meant to play in the drama that was then moving toward its fulfillment even faster than anyone realized outside the Wilhelmstrasse and the Ballplatz. I dined that night with my nephew, young Tregarth, who was a lieutenant in the Household troops and engaged to Lady Betty Mayne, the prettiest of all the maids-of-honor. As his father’s executor, I had charge of his accounts, and he wanted to wheedle me into reinvesting a part of his capital in a somewhat risky stock paying a high dividend. Naturally, I refused. "Well, unde," he said, when I had convinced him that his protests were unavailing, "I shan’t repay you in kind.” He grinned. I think he had divined something of my mission. "The conference has failed,” he said. "How do you know, Claude?” I inquired, for form’s sake; and he grinned again. "If* all right, unde. Ton can take it from me as gospel,” he answered- “ They’ll meet again tomorrow morning, just for the show of the thing, because it wouldn’t be altogether decent to the king to stop cm the second day. But be round at the palace gate about

mid-day, and you'll see my words come true.” Of course 1 knew the source of his information. I did not doubt him. But then, nobody had believed that there was any longer hope of postponing civil war in Ireland. Next day I mingled with the crowd in front of the palace. It was a few minutes before twelve when the automobile containing the members of the conference came out They moved slowly through the thick masses of people that Mocked their way. I saw Mr. Asquith, with the usual impassive look on his white face; Bonar Law, plainly elated; Carson and Captain Craig, the Ulster leaders, trying to restrain their obvious Jubilance. It could be seen at a glance that no compiomise could be effected. Then I saw John Redmond He left the place on foot His aides, Devlin and O’Connor, whom Parnell had called the most vulgar of his lieutenants, were with him. The crowd recognized the trio at once. O’Connor had Joined the two others outside the palace gates, not having been a member of the conference, and, astonishing as it was to me, not one of the three had any eyes or ears for the crowd, though a whole legion of Irishmen, with green sprigs in their buttonholes, had forced their way to the front rank and were cheering them to the echo. And then I saw a man in a silk hat and frock coat, looking like a retired postmaster, whose face was peculiarly familiar to me. He approached three and stood immediately in their path, until he compelled their attention. I saw unmistakable looks of recognition upon their faces. ’iThen the fourth man strolled slowly away in front of them, and, leaving Redmond and O’Connor, Devlin followed him through the green park toward Piccadilly. My eyesight is not as good as It was, and I have a shocking memory for faces, but I felt confident I knew the man in the frock coat.

I am not the man to spy on anyone. I did not follow the pair. I could have gained little by it, for I could not have approached near enough to have heard their' conversation. Instead. I hailed a taxicab and ordered the man to drive to the club. In the smoking room General Burbidge was holding forth with his usual vehemence. Everybody knew thaff the conference had failed. "It means civil war now,” said the general. “War, sir—” to the empty chair beside him. For, at the news, Launceford had hurried back from his lunch to the home office. “By the way, general,” I said, "what has become of Hans? That looks like a new man over there.” "The management sacked him last night,” answered the general huffily. “He was Intolerably insolent. The fellow must have been drinking. Told Captain Clay to go to an unmentionable place. He’d been with us ten years, and we’d have tried to get him another chance, but he went the limit. Said he didn’t care for any d—” "Hello, general!” broke in a cheery voice, and I looked up to see Tarrant beside us. "Heard the news, I suppose." -V "Yes, we’ve all heard it, Tarrant,” answered the general warily. “The conference has broken up and —■” "Ah, you’re a bit slow in these parts, general,” said Tarrant cheerily, "here’s later news than that. Austria has presented Serbia with an ultimatum that Serbia can t possibly accept” "Eh?" Inquired the general, staggered into good sense. "Fact” answered Tarrant “It has been ready for days, and It was pr* sented early this morning, as soon as the Austrian government learned that the conference must prove abortive.” “Then it's a plunge for war,” said the general with conviction. "Curse my old legs. I don’t suppose they’ll take me back now. They’re dead sure Ulster win fight and England become a negligible factor?"

•Yes,” Mid Tarrant “And that’s where they’re wrong, general.” “I don’t know,” mattered the old m«n “Redmond's playing a pretty deep game. It’s my opinion he’ll make the most of his opportunity. If I had my way. sir. I’d take the whole Irish party, every man jack of ’em, and hang ’em on London —” I made my way out of the smoking room. For the first time in my life almost I regretted that I had not tried to play the spy. What was Hans doing with Devlin, the shrewdest and ablest of all the Nationalists? Was Germany meditating some coup in Ulster which should bring about the desired conflagration instanter? I made my way to the foreign office. Clerks were runnihg about; the whole place seemed in confusion. I sent up my card to Sir Edward Grey. The messenger came back; Sir Edward could not see me. I tried the permanent under-secretary with no better success. The action of Austria had evidently created a prodigious excitement, but I think I should have secured audience had its immediate application to the Irish difficulty Been clearly glimpsed at that time. I went out of the building. History was being made each moment, and the radical government had lost its head. It had two problems on its hands and did not know that they were one, and must be tackled together. I went down to the house of commons at eight The streets around the three sides of the edifice were filled with a crowd, silent, watchful. Each man there knew, better than his rulers knew, that Fate was playing with nations, sweeping away old, cherished things, fashioning new ones. Where would England stand? I sent up my card to a friend, the member for Breadalbane, with the request for a seat in the gallery. Five minutes later I was being admittedMr. Asquith was upon his feet, speaking—the same old rlgamarole about Ireland. If he had sensed anything his voice and gestures did not show

it. However, it was not he whom I sought. I glanced at the Irish benches. There sat O’Brien, his patriarchal beard sweeping his breast; Healy, alert, a sarcastic smile on his face. But, though Devlin was there, and O’Connor, Redmond was absent. Absent on such a night! My mind leaped to the only possible conclusion. I rose and pushed my way out of the gallery. Somebody whispered to me to sit down. An attendant approached me angrily. I brushed past him. I gained the street. I hurried home in a cab, packed my portmanteau, and took the first train from Euston for Holyhead. At twelve o’clock the next day I was in Dublin. I had not been in Dublin for twenty years. The city was changed beyond my memory of it. It was an enormous, sptawllng place, a haystack in which to .find John Redmond. And, if I found him, I did not know on what grounds I could claim an interview with£im. We had never met; and he had gone to Dublin for purposes far more serious than to listen to the pa-, triotic pleas of a man without the least claim upon his time or attention. There is a little hotel on Abercrombie street where the Nationalist leaders used to stay in the days of the Land league. Many a famous conference been held in the little back parlor of the “Creen Harp’ I found the place still standing, and I thought there was an expression of interest upon the jarvey’s face when I gave him the name of the place. He carried my baggage in and, while I was finding my money, said: "There’ll be big doings today down Howth way, I’m thinking, sor!” “Indeed?” I asked. "What, pray?” And, to my astonishment, the man. pocketing his fee, mumbled something and hurried back to his car without waiting for his tip. My room faced a little Interior court, with other rooms across, so near —for it was a little court —that one could almost have leaned out of the window

and shaken hands with the man at the window opposite. Having unpacked, I wandered out Into the street, and now I began to see something of the Jarvey’s excitement reflected upon the faces of the passers-by. The newly formed Nationalist volunteers were to emulate the exploits of the Ulstermen by importing a cargo of rifles and ammunition under the noses of the police. The volunteers had left the city the night before. They were expected t4ck with the arms. Dublin was streaming out to meet them. Dublin was on the point of revolution. Or not exactly revolution, for the ministry was in Redmond's power, but certainly on the point of a dramatic coup which must prove the inevitable prelude to civil war. , I am past the age when a mob has any attractions for me, so I walked back to the hotel, ascended the stairs and entered my room. With a bound a man leaped from behind the door and closed it. Next instant I was looking into the muzzle of a revolver, held very close to my eyes by my old friend the waiter, Hans. “Sit down!” he said, pointing to a chair. But a waiter is a waiter. Seeing that I showed no signs of complying, he dropped the heroic attitude. “I followed you here,” he said. “I saw you at the station. I know who you are and I don’t think you’ve come here for the good of Ireland.” "Well, have you, Hans?” I inquired. And I sat down, not because he had told me to, but because a man of my years readily becomes fatigued. Hans laughed. The man’s demeanor was entirely different from that of the club waiter. Perhaps years of repression necessitated this new expansion; or perhaps it was pure triumph. "For the good of Ireland? No,” he replied. "For the good of Germany—yes. I have my orders, and they are not to let you out of here till it’s all over.” “Till what is all over, Hans? You interest me,” I answered. "The revolution,” he answered. “Freedom for Ireland from England’s tyranny. You fool, you cursed fools, did you think I went about for ten years with my eyes shut?” "It is customary among us English, Hans,” I replied, “when we take a servant into our homes or clubs, to take him in a spirit of confidence.” “So! Then you played yourselves a confidence trick,” he answered. “Not one week but I send home to Germany a report of what I learn in the smoking room.” I was studying the man intently. I saw that he was in that reckless mood of self-satisfaction, known to us diplomatists, when a man will blurt out everything. "So the German government is financing this little picnic?” I inquired. "And the kaiser who puts King John upon the throne of Ireland!” he answered. “John Redmond?” inquired. "Look!” he exclaimed, pointing out of the window across the court The muslin curtains, which hung one on either side, left a narrow space of glass. I turned my head, and felt a crashing blow across the crown, which threw me forward, half stunned, upon the floor. I had just sense enough to feign unconsciousness. Through my half-closed eyes I saw the face of Hans, as he peered shortsightedly into mine. He raised the butt of his revolver, with which he had struck me again, but hesitated. 1 think he was afraid he had killed me. The blow had opened the scalp, inflicting a considerable loss of blood, but I had taken worse blows in my time. After an instant’s hesitation the man stooped over me,' as I lay motionless upon the floor, and felt my pulse; then, appar rently satisfied that I was not dead, he abstracted my gold watch and chain, crossed the room, turned the handle of the door, and disappeared noiselessly along the carpeted corridor. I lay upon the floor, unable to move, but my mind was singularly active. So Hans had known of my connection with the government, and had either followed me to Dublin or seen me by chance at the station, as he had let me infer. No doubt he had'warned the conspirators, who, becoming alarmed, had taken measures to keep me out of the way for the time being. But was John Redmond Inculpated in this dastardly plot? Or was this the doing of the kaiser’s more or less irresponsible agents? I lay on the floor in a half coma. I was partly I believe. Events and persons of earlier life came crowding in on me. I know that it was all I could do to remember where I was, to summon resolution to move toward the old-fashioned bellpull that hung at the side of the bed. With a great effort I managed to crawl toward it. Then my attention was suddenly arrested by a sight which almost recompensed me for my situation. My eyes were level with the middle portion of the pane of glass between the curtains. I saw the window across the court, and, through this, the strong features of John Redmond, made, by some optical trick of a late summer afternoon, as clear as though he stood within my room. And at his side were two men. One was Kasper Weisknopf, the Berlin member iff the money trust 1 had never seen him, but I recognised him from his likeness to Louis, the leader, at VlenrilwThe other was a debonair young man whom I had met many times in Berlin. He stands so near the throne that I mention no name. And both were pleading with John Redmond.

Perhaps it was the exaltation of some spiritual faculty of discernment, in my half-delirious state —perhaps imagination ; but though it was impossible to hear a word, I knew that they were tendering him something that had not been tendered within the British Isles for centuries. It was the crown of Ireland. And I mw Redmond’s strong features quiver with emotion. The hooked nose, the little moustache, fast turning gray, the massive profile wera clear as a shadow picture on a screen. What a drama was being played in that little back room of the "Green Harp!" I mw him shake his head; 1 mw them crowd upon him, grasp his coat lapels; in imagination I heard them telling him that the time wm ripe as it had never been ripe before. By nightfall he could rule three-fourths of Ireland, while England, rendered Impotent by a Continental war, must acquiesce. Would he take the bait? Would he?

And at the supreme moment the picture dissolved. I mw the room filled with figures. I heard shouts and yells of execration. A mob filled the courtyard. The streets were infernos of sound. Then I heard the crackle of rifles, and, with all my remaining strength I pulled the bell rope and fainted away. The victim of a robber, they called me when I awoke, three days later, and I did not deny the statement For I knew that the time was past for private justice. Justice on the most imposing scale in history was being prepared for errant nations. It was not hard to learn what had occurred. My nurse at the hospital was full of the story, telling it to me with indignation in her bine eyes and quivering lips. J The soldiers, called ont to seize the arms of the Volunteers, had been assailed by the crowd. They had fired on them without orders, perpetrating what 4s now known as the "Dublin Massacre.” In the ward that adjoined my private room a dozen wounded lay. Ireland was mad with rage; and, if there bad been a man on the spot ready to seize the pretexthe could have Bhaken off England’s yoke forever. What a pity, all said, that Redmond was not there! He would have beeit of more use in his own country than in Westminister. Needless to My, I kept my counsel. But when Germany struck at Belgium, and England declared war on her, John Redmond’s speech In tho house of commons, pledging the support and loyalty of Nationalist Ireland was received with rapture. Frenzied English mobs acclaimed him as the hero of the hour outside. He had seized the golden opportunity and cemented the union indissolubly between the sister islands. Which brings me back to my prelude, the mixed motives of men. With that face upon the glaM ever in my mind's eye, I wondered, and wonder still. Did he shrink at the last, against his. will, from seizing the wonderful gift of kingship? Or would he have accepted, but for the sudden irruption of the mob at the exact moment? Or, again, did he appear to accept* the German scheme in order to induce the kaiser to declare war, know ing that the shock would unite England and Ireland too against him? Was he a far-seeing, high-minded patriot, or —?

"I Know Who You Are, and I Don’t Think You’ve Come Here for the Good of Ireland."