“It was a simple lecture,” the minister now opined, “delivered in a gathering of friends, and issued by the publisher behind the author’s back.”
That is scarcely thinkable either; but this much is clear,—the pamphlet, if not its author, is disavowed. The appointment had been made, it was claimed, without any knowledge of the lecture. And if that were the case, Herr von Stengel should have declined the appointment. Any one who has publicly called an endeavor a daydream does not proceed to take part in the dreaming. Suppose then the intention or the orders were to oppose it! But even if these orders were not directly given, still it is melancholy that an opponent of the cause should be sent as a delegate.
The Grelixes have arrived too. Felix Moscheles tells of the campaign of agitation which he and Stead have undertaken all through the English cities. He was one of the deputation that communicated the results of the crusade to the Russian ambassador, who had already been appointed to head the Russian delegation. Herr von Staal said to Moscheles: “The Conference is admirably prepared for by these public demonstrations of the people’s desire for peace. If I may be pardoned for using the vulgar phrase, Vous avez mis du foin dans nos bottes.”[[31]]
In the afternoon a round of calls. When our carriage draws up before the Hotel Paulez, Count Welsersheimb comes out and invites us up to his drawing-room, saying that the whole Austrian delegation is assembled there. In fact, the little room is filled with our fellow-countrymen, among them Herr von Merey, head of a division in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs,—slender, aristocratic, agreeable; Viktor von Khuepach zu Ried, lieutenant colonel on the general staff; Count Soltys, commander; Professor Lammasch, abrupt but at the same time polite; Count Zichy, not a delegate but Austrian ambassador at Munich. The conversation turns naturally on the Conference. I have the impression that those present are filled with lively interest regarding this phenomenon “Conference,” but an interest mingled with astonishment and skepticism, with an amazed and curious excitement, such as the marvels of nature seen for the first time are wont to arouse.
May 18. The eighteenth of May, 1899! This is an epoch-making date in the history of the world. As I write it down I am deeply impressed with this conviction. It is the first time, since history began to be written, that the representatives of the governments come together to find a means for “securing a permanent, genuine peace” for the world. Whether or not this means will be found in the Conference that is to be opened to-day has nothing to do with the magnitude of the event. In the endeavor lies the new direction!
May 19. This is the way yesterday went: In the morning, divine service in the Russian chapel in celebration of the Tsar’s birthday. My Own and I were invited. The place is small and scarcely a hundred people were present, the men in gala uniform, the ladies in semi-informal dress. The high mass begins. The congregation, all standing, reverent and devout, follow it. It seemed to me as if it were my part not to pray for Nicholas II, but to address to him the petition: “O thou brave of heart, remain firm! Let not the ingratitude and the spite and the imbecility of the world penetrate to thee to disturb and paralyze; even if an attempt is made to belittle and misinterpret and even block thy work, remain firm!”
The priest holds out the cross to be kissed: the mass is over. Now greetings and introductions are exchanged. I make the acquaintance of Minister Beaufort’s wife.
Drive to the opening session of the Conference. Brilliant sunshine. Numerous carriages proceed through the shaded avenues to the “House in the Wood,” as if in a festive parade in the Prater or the Bois. At the grated gate a military guard of honor makes the customary salutes. I am the only woman permitted to be present.
What I experienced here was like the fulfillment of a lofty ambitious dream. “Peace Conference!” For ten long years the words and the idea have been laughed to scorn; its advocates, feeble private persons, are regarded as “Utopians” (the favorite polite circumlocution for “crazy fellows”); and now, at the summons of the most powerful of the war lords, the representatives of all the sovereigns are gathering, and their assembly bears that very name, “Peace Conference.”
From the opening address of Minister Beaufort: