1914

of newspaper men with the Government; proud of the efficiency with which the Cabinet silently in a day took over the railways, and, with the help of a committee consisting of all the general managers of the British railway lines, is now operating them as if they formed a department of the Government; proud of the sinking of political differences in the face of common danger; and, what is most striking, Englishmen are proud of the Irish, and the Irish are proud of the Empire.

The Home Rule question is settled-at least so thought every Englishman with whom I talked of the subject—and the settlement of that question is due to an Irishman-the Parliamentary leader, Mr. Redmond. When he made his speech bidding the British Government to withdraw all troops from Ireland if they needed them, and promising the Empire that the soil of Ireland would be defended by Nationalists and Ulsterites together, he swept away the one obstacle that had been standing in the way of a peaceful settlement of the Home Rule questionConservative doubt of Irish loyalty. By that one speech Irish loyalty (which ought not to have been questioned) was proved—and all England was ready to yield anything to Ireland. It is true that one man who had relatives in the North of Ireland told me he thought that after the war was over there would be bloodshed in Ireland-as there had been bloodshed scarcely more than a week before the war started-but his was the only opinion I heard on that side, and it was based on his conviction that among the Ulster Protestants there were some bigots who would never be reconciled. On the other side I heard that the people of Ireland, South as well as North, were really well content with the present state of affairs, and that the only dissatisfied element consisted of politicians. Of one fact, however, there could be no difference of opinion-Ireland is with the rest of the Empire in this war.

The one uncertain factor in Great Britain, so far as I could learn, was the extreme labor element. Before war was declared there was a controversy between employers and employees in the building trades, and apparently that controversy continued in spite of war. One day, for instance, while I was walking along Bridge Street by the Clock Tower and New Palace Yard, thinking only of the war, I passed a young woman collecting money to aid the workingmen who had lost their jobs through the building trades

31

lockout. The fact that a labor conflict could continue at a time like this seems to me one of the most damning indictments against the prevailing industrial system. But of course that controversy was lost in the great world war; and I did not think of it again till I started to write this. Certainly, if there are labor leaders in England who are irreconcilable, if the resignation of John Burns from the Cabinet is an indication of an anti-war spirit in the United Kingdom, there was during the first two weeks of the war no outward sign of it of sufficient prominence to attract my notice, and there was no reflection of it in the talk of the man in the street. England's internal problems were forgotten in the presence of the common enemy. One Liberal went so far as to say that the war, he believed, would mean the end of the Liberal party, at least as it had been known heretofore; because war would consume all the money that had been devoted to the operation of such Liberal policies as old age pensions, land reform, and the like. On the other hand, it seemed to me that the war might well mean the strengthening of the real Liberal party, for not only had the Liberal Government shown extraordinary statesmanship in the international crisis, but it had shown courage and efficiency in meeting the national energency by the enactment and enforcement of measures of great social significance-such as the governmental operation of railways and governmental building of houses.

England has been doing unprecedented things because the emergency is unprecedented. The effect of the war upon the common life of the English people was pictured one evening in the House of Commons when I had the good fortune to be present. One member after another rose and laid before the Government the needs of his constituency. A member from a coast region told of the privation of many of his constituents who were dependent upon letting lodgings to summer visitors, and who now found their lodgings empty. Another told of those among his constituents whose livelihood depended upon the use of horses—carters, milkmen, tradesmen who delivered their goods in wagons-and who now found themselves shut off from self-support because their horses had been commandeered. Ꭺ ripple of amusement passed over the House when it was pointed out that the owner of a single horse need not be apprehensive, as the Government was taking only fifty per cent

of any one's property in horseflesh, and the Government would have no use for fifty per cent of one horse. Another man who represented a fishing constituency asked for governmental insurance for the fishermen as well as for the owners of merchant vessels, especially as the fishermen provided the nation with an important supply of food. Another member spoke on behalf of the wives and families of reservists, and asked that the Government arrange some system of credit by which these dependents could draw upon the reservists' pay.

Such is the unprecedented situation in England; and the Government is making precedents in providing for that situation. Yet England is not abandoning her traditions. The Kingdom was aroused when the impression was conveyed that the King, of his own initiative, had summoned representatives of all parties to a conference with him, and indignation was allayed only when the Prime Minister explained that he and not the King was responsible. And nothing, not even war, interrupts afternoon tea. On Friday, August 14, the day before I was to take the steamer for New York, I read a notice in Liverpool that all visitors not British subjects had to present themselves to be registered by the police. My friend and I started out to comply with the requirement. Policeman after policeman, in directing us to the police station, informed us that though we were Americans, citizens of a neutral country.

By

to

and though we were to sail the next day, we should have to be registered or we should not be allowed to leave the country. the time the third officer told us that, we were consumed with an eagerness have our finger prints taken. At last we found the police station, only to be told that we could not be registered because "they" had gone out "to tea." There was something reassuring about that. British institutions seemed, after all, to be solid. We were going to cross the ocean under the British flag; and if the police could adjourn registration of aliens in time of war because of " afternoon tea," we decided that the British fleet must still rule the wave.

Though

And it proved to rule the wave. port-holes were darkened at night by dead lights and by blankets, so that we might be able to slip by any hostile cruiser in the darkness, and though the steamship ran out of the usual course so that it might disappoint whatever German war-ships might be lying in wait for British merchantmen on the Atlantic lanes, no untoward incident occurred. Not only British subjects, not only American citizens, but even the German subjects coming to the United States because they could not get to Germany, who through British magnanimity were allowed to board this British vessel, had reason to be grateful for Britain's mastery of the sea.

ERNEST HAMLIN ABBOTT. On board the S.S. Campania, August 21.

O

NE of the most noteworthy results of Russia's participation in the European war, so far as her internal affairs are concerned, is the sudden and complete abandonment of her so-called "nationalistic" policy. Ever since the accession of Stoly pin as Premier, in 1905, the Czar and his Government have been engaged in an illadvised and short-sighted attempt to crush or cripple the Jews and to Russianize by force the Finns and the Poles. Thousands of Jews in all parts of the Empire have been driven back into the great national ghetto known as the Pale of Settlement, while thousands more

have been deprived even of the limited educational facilities which they enjoyed under the pre-revolutionary régime. Scores of Jewish schools have been closed upon the most frivolous pretexts; the admission of Jewish students to the universities has been still further restricted by the lottery system; and the influence of Jewish business men in the commercial world has been paralyzed by

order forbidding them to participate actively in the management of joint-stock companies or corporations.

The treatment of the Finns and the Poles has been equally bad, if not worse. The

1914

former were forcibly deprived of the autonomy which they had enjoyed for nearly a century, and their officials and judges were sent to Russian prisons merely because they would not disregard and disobey the Finnish constitution, which the Czar himself had solemnly sworn to recognize and maintain. The Poles were not deprived of their liberties, because they had no liberties; but their schools were taken out of their control; the use of their native language was forbidden; their economic, scientific, and educational societies were suppressed; and their pride in their national history and achievements was treated as a crime. Readers of the story "A Sacrilegious Fox Hunt," which was published in The Outlook a few months ago, will doubtless remember some of the persecutons to which the unfortunate Poles were subjected between 1908 and 1913.

In short, under the Stolypin régime and that of his successor, the Jews, the Finns, and the Poles were given over to the tender mercies of the Nationalists, the DoubleHeaded Eagles, and the Black Hundreds, whose party cry was, "Russia for the Rus

sians and down with the aliens !"

Suddenly, a few weeks ago, Russia became involved in war, and under the pressure of a great peril the nationalistic policy, with its intolerance, its aggressiveness, and its brutal disregard of Jewish, Finnish, and Polish rights, instantly went to pieces. General Rennenkampf, a bitter reactionist and Jewhater, began to attend Jewish religious services in the synagogue at Vilna; the order prohibiting the participation of Jews in the management of joint-stock companies was rescinded; and a little later it was announced that the Czar would shortly grant to the Jews all the civil and political rights enjoyed by Russians of orthodox faith and pure Slavic blood. About the same time the Russianizing campaign against the Finns was suspended; and last week the Czar issued a proclamation in which he announced his intention to restore the ancient boundaries of the Kingdom of Poland, and to give its inhabitants complete autonomy, with the removal of all restrictions on language and religion.

These concessions to Jews, Finns, and Poles have been made, of course, under pressure, and with a view to unifying the nation in spirit for the impending struggle with Germany and Austria. The question now is, Will the Czar's promises be kept when they have served their purpose, and when the

33

pressure of military necessity has been removed? There is reason to hope that they will; but the world would put more faith in the Czar's pledged word if he had kept his promises in the past. He declared, two or three different times, that he would abolish the Siberian exile system; but political offenders are still being sent to Yakutsk, Yeniseisk, and the provinces of the trans-Baikal. He swore in his coronation oath that he would respect and maintain the Constitution given by Alexander II to Finland, but he broke faith when he approved the law depriving the Finnish Diet of its constitutional rights and powers. Finally, he solemnly promised, in the Imperial Manifesto of October 30, 1905, that he would give to the Russian people freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of religious belief, and freedom of public assembly. Nearly ten years have passed since that time, but Governmental oppression still continues, and the nation has even less freedom, in many respects, than it had under Alexander II. The war, it is true, may result in the emancipation of the Finns and the Poles, under an international guarantee; but, in the light of past history, the promises of the Czar are not to be implicitly trusted. When he was harrying and persecuting the Jews, the Finns, and the Poles, he should have foreseen that at some future time he might need their good will and their help.

The actual or potential interference with British commerce in the Far East by German cruisers from the Kaiser's naval station at Tsingtao, in Kiauchau Bay, led Japan, the Far Eastern ally of Great Britain, to send to the German Government a seven-day ultimatum demanding that the Far Eastern fleet of Germany disarm or withdraw at once, and that the German leased territory of Kiauchau be surrendered to the Japanese authorities not later than September 15, for eventual restoration to China. The Japanese Government based its action on the necessity of "removing the cause of all disturbances of the peace in the Far East, and safeguarding the general interests as contemplated by the agreement of alliance between Japan and Great Britain." As, by noon of August 23, the German Government had not unconditionally agreed to comply with this demand, Japan and Germany are now at war.

As Germany has spent twenty or thirty million dollars in improving and fortifying her position in Kiauchau Bay, and as she has there a fleet of thirteen cruisers and gun

boats, it is not at all likely that she will surrender without a long struggle. Japan and Great Britain have blockaded the entrance to the Bay, and Japan has begun siege operations on land for the reduction of the fortress.

These operations will be carried on mainly, of course, by the Japanese, whose experiences on the Liaotung peninsula qualify them pre-eminently for the task. The forts of Tsingtau, however, are said to be even stronger than those at Port Arthur, and if they are well supplied with provisions and ammunition they will not be easily taken. But the Japanese are experts in sapping, mining, and trench-fighting, and they will not again sacrifice fifteen or twenty thousand men, as they did at Port Arthur, in trying to take strong intrenchments by storm. They will invest the German fortress; approach it slowly through zigzag trenches and saps; destroy the German fleet by accurate highangle fire from heavy siege guns; shatter the forts by means of mining operations and bombardment, and not attempt an assault in force until the intrenchments have been so

weakened that they may be taken by storm without undue loss of life.

Kiauchau Bay, with about two hundred square miles of circumjacent territory, was taken from China by Germany in 1898 as indemnity for the murder of two or three a German missionaries. Since they acquired it, the Germans have erected at Tsingtau a typical German city; have connected it with the valley of the Hoangho by means of a railway through the province of Shantung: and have made it a naval base, as well as a point of vantage for commercial enterprise in all that part of China. They have constructed three extensive granite piers, and a steel floating dock large enough to accommodate any battle-ship now in Far Eastern waters. The loss of this colony, naval base, and commercial outpost will perhaps be a more serious blow to Germany than the loss of all her possessions in Africa, while the capture of it will enable Japan to "get even with the Power that was most active in taking Port Arthur away from her after the war with China.

1

1

I

N the afternoon, at the Bon Marché, in the course of our purchasing, we were asked in what shape we carried our money, and when we showed a hundred-franc note were told with a grave look that money was very scarce, and that giving too much change to us, in silver, would be a greater evil than losing the entire sale. In other words, you simply couldn't buy 15 francs' worth of stuff if a 50-franc note was all you could offer in payment. Such a difficulty is easily met by the feminine mind, at a counter of handembroidery; and as our purchases came to

84.95 francs, we were given change, of which we little grasped the later value to ourselves. In crippled French we tried to understand from the bookkeeper what the trouble was, and couldn't in the least grasp any satisfactory answer as to why a war in Servia should make Parisians hoard their gold.

From the Bon Marché we crossed the street to a chocolate shop. There, before putting up our candy, they asked us if we had exactly two francs to pay for it, as they had no change whatever. That looked serious. We bought a paper and sat at a table

1914

35

outside a restaurant and tried to make out what and how serious the trouble was.

All of this alarmed us sufficiently to send us the next morning to cash some money. It was on the next day that the crowds besieged the banks. At Cook's the office was SO crowded that we cashed money at the American Express Company after waiting in a long line.

Paper money and one or two pieces of silver were all we could get. From the express office we went to the Consulate, where many anxious Americans were waiting their turns, and where we heard bits of their problems. One woman had paid for a tourist ticket to Switzerland, and back to the coast to sail in about two weeks' time, and couldn't well afford to lose the money she had paid for the ticket; would it be wise for her to go ahead with her plans? Two nurses had come, having heard that there would be a demand for expert nursing, but were advised to return to America and give up the idea. One woman, a widow, had a German name, and wanted identification and residential papers. We were planning to go to Switzerland, and wanted to know whether we had better go at once. The Consul advised our waiting developments in Paris. Although all these people at the Consulate seemed anxious, it was an anxiety about a future some ten days or two weeks off; the immediate need of action seemed not to impress any.

There was an anxious time of consultation, in the midst of which our friends telephoned to say they were leaving for London just as early as possible, and urging us to do the same. They might even go north in a motor if the trains seemed uncertain. That turned the scale of our indecision, and we decided to get to London as soon as possible. Money was by this time a grave problem. We wanted to carry a sufficient amount of French money to safeguard a possible overnight's delay at Boulogne. On the other hand, we didn't want French paper on our hands in England. We counted out our money very carefully, and had about 400 francs in paper, 70 francs in gold, and possibly 70 more in silver. The gold was left over from that we had brought from London on Tuesday.

We hurried back to the hotel, and packed as rapidly as possible. Contrary to advice,

we ate luncheon at the hotel, so as to pay for it out of our paper money, of which our hotel bill, a little over 200 francs, took our last piece.

We heard on the train of some difficulty in securing taxicabs, but ours was ready as we came out from luncheon, and, with our two trunks and two suit-cases, we made our way to the Gare du Nord. There was a dreadful scarcity of porters, but in time we had our trunks registered, and took a very probable farewell of them, at the door of the luggage office.

At the window where we paid the excess on our luggage we were offered English gold at only one-half franc for exchange. This we were afraid to take, still fearing delay at Boulogne.

It was then one o'clock. We went at once to the gate from which our train was to leave, and until 3:30 stood waiting, with our suit-cases beside us. It wasn't long before the crowd before the gate grew; but we were well up towards the front, and expected no difficulty in getting seats, as they had told us at the express that none would be reserved. The crowd at the gate was anxious, but patient and long-enduring. The heat was great, and frequent luggage-trucks were sent through the crowd, with a consequent pushing on each side, during which it was hard not to fall over the suit-cases beside us. The two men who had helped us at the express office were cheering every one, and tried to reserve compartments for their party and a number of women near them, who were traveling alone. There was some chaff. One woman said: "Aren't the French awful! You can't understand a word they say, and they won't take their own money."

There was a terrible tension on the train ; with us it was the greatest point of strain we experienced. There was the possibility of being held back at Boulogne by lack of passports, by the boat not running, or by its being overcrowded; the crossing in a rough sea would be frightful, and there had been a rumor that the lighthouses were dark; there was fear again that the train at Folkestone might be inadequate to carry so large a booking; and, lastly, London must be frightfully overcrowded, and we had little hope of finding any place to lay our heads. The next day was Sunday, and we had French money, and no idea how much difficulty we might have in cashing American Express checks