THE SEIZURE OF TSING-TAO

Prince Hohenlohe played an especially important rôle in the annexation of Tsing-tao. He, too, was of the opinion that Germany needed some coaling stations for her ships, and that the demands of commercial elements that the opportunity for opening up China to international trade be not allowed to pass were justified. It was resolved that, under unimpaired Chinese sovereignty and after payment of the likin (octroi, or internal revenue tax), a trading port, with a marine coaling station as protection, was to be founded, wherein it was contemplated to allow China to co-operate to the utmost possible extent.

The station was to serve the ends of commerce, before all else, the military measures being limited solely to the protection of the trading center as it developed; they did not constitute an end in themselves or a basis for further military enterprises.

Already several places had been considered, but these had proved, upon more careful investigation, to be unfitted, mostly because they had either bad connections or none at all with the interior regions, were not promising from a commercial-political standpoint, or were encumbered by privileges already granted to other foreign countries. Finally it was agreed—because of the reports of Admiral Tirpitz, who was, at that time, chief of the East Asiatic cruiser squadron, and because of the opinion of the geographical expert, Freiherr von Richthofen, who, having been questioned on the subject, had drawn a most promising picture of the possibilities of development in Shantung—to found a settlement on the bay of Kiao-Chau.

The Chancellor proceeded to collect data on the political questions which arose as a result of this and which must be taken into consideration. It was particularly necessary not to interfere with Russia's designs, nor to disturb her. Further information was obtained, some of it from our East Asiatic division; from this source favorable reports came in as to anchorages and the ice-free nature of the bay of Kiao-Chau, and as to the prospects, if a port were to be founded there. From conversations among the officers of the Russian China division, which had come to our ears in our intercourse with them, it was learned that the Russian Admiral, in accordance with orders from his Government, had anchored one winter in the bay, but had found it so desolate and so atrociously lonesome—there were no tea houses with Japanese geisha girls, which the Russians deemed absolutely indispensable to winter quarters—that the Russian squadron would never go back there any more.

It was also reported that the Russian Admiral had advised his Government most earnestly against prosecuting any further its intention of founding a settlement on this bay, since there was absolutely no advantage to be derived from it. Hence, the Russians had no intention of gaining a foothold there.

This last piece of news arrived at about the same time as the answer from the Russian Foreign Minister, Count Muravieff, sent through the German ambassador, relative to the sounding of Russian opinion, which had been made pursuant to instructions from the Chancellor. Muravieff set forth that Russia, to be sure, had no direct claims, based on treaty with China, to the bay, but that she, nevertheless, laid claim to it on the basis of the "droit du premier mouillage" ("right of first anchorage"), since the Russian ships had anchored there before those of any other fleet. This answer, it will be seen, ran counter to the report of our East Asiatic division relative to the statements made by the Russian Admiral.

When I, with Hollmann, met the Chancellor, in order to discuss the Russian claim to Kiao-Chau, the Prince listened to the reading of it with his little ironical smile, and remarked that he had been unable to find any jurist at the Foreign Office who could tell him anything about this wonderful claim. Was the navy in a position to do so? Admiral Hollmann declared that he, in all his experience on foreign service, had never heard of it; that it was nonsense and an invention of Muravieff, whose only motive was unwillingness to have some other nation settle on the shores of the bay. I advised that Privy Councilor of the Admiralty Perels, one of the most famous living experts on international maritime law and an acknowledged authority in this domain, be asked to deliver an opinion, in order to clarify the question. This was done. The opinion tore Muravieff's contention to pieces, corroborated that of Hollmann, and completely did away with the legend about the "right of first anchorage."

Months elapsed; my August, 1897, visit to Peterhof was imminent. In agreement with the Prince, my uncle, I decided to discuss the entire matter in person and frankly with the Tsar, and, if possible, put an end to Muravieff's notes and evasions. The talk took place at Peterhof. The Tsar stated that he had no interest in the territory south of the Tientsin-Peking line, which meant that there was no reason why he should place obstacles in our path in Shantung: that his interest was concentrated upon the territory on the Yalu, around Port Arthur, etc., now that the English had made difficulties for him at Mokpo; that he would, in fact, be pleased if Germany should locate herself in future on the other side of the Gulf of Chih-li as Russia's welcome neighbor.

Afterward I had a talk with Muravieff. He employed all his arts, wriggled back and forth in his statements, and finally brought up his famous "right of first anchorage." That was all I wanted. I now passed to the offensive myself, striking out at him squarely with the opinion delivered by Perels. When I had told him, finally, as the Tsar desired, the result of the conversations between us two sovereigns, the diplomat was even more embarrassed, lost his assumed calm, and capitulated.

Thus was the soil prepared, politically speaking. In the autumn came the news from Bishop Anzer of the murder of the two German Catholic missionaries in Shantung. The entire German Catholic world, particularly the "colonials" in the Centerist party, demanded energetic measures. The Chancellor proposed to me immediate intervention. While I was engaged in the winter hunting at Lotalingen, I consulted with him, in one of the little towers of the castle there, as to what steps were to be taken. The Prince proposed to intrust Prince Henry of Prussia, who was present, with the command of the squadron that was to be sent out to reinforce the East Asiatic Division. I informed my brother of this in the presence of the Chancellor, whereat the Prince and the other gentlemen present were highly pleased. The Chancellor sent the news to the Foreign Office and to the new Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, Herr von Bülow, who was away on a journey.

Kiao-Chau was occupied in November, 1897. In December of that year Prince Henry sailed, on board the Deutschland, with his squadron to Eastern Asia, where he later took over the command of the entire East Asiatic Division. On the 6th of March, 1898, the agreement with China concerning Kiao-Chau was signed. At the same time, Mr. Chamberlain in London brought up before the Japanese ambassador, Baron Kato, the idea of the conclusion of an Anglo-Japanese alliance, in order to bar Russia's advance in the East.