On the day set, at the appointed hour, I presented myself in the imperial palace, accompanied by the vice president of my Union. There was a perfect swarm of uniforms in the anteroom to the audience chamber. Generals and staff officers were awaiting their turn to be summoned. We were not kept waiting long. When the door opened to permit the personage who had just been with the Emperor to pass out, we were immediately summoned. This preference was not at all due to the fact that the presiding officers of the Peace Society were bringing an “arbitration petition,” but simply because my escort was a prince (at court everything goes by rank and title).
I had my artistic-looking roll in my hands and a well-prepared speech on my tongue,—which at the crucial moment completely failed me,—and we passed through the door, which was held open by an adjutant and closed behind us. The Emperor was standing by his writing table and he took a few steps to meet us. After a low, courtly bow, which I am under the impression was a success, I gave utterance to my desire. My escort added a few explanatory words, and I handed the Emperor the document; he received it with a kindly smile. When I told him that the address was concerning an international arbitration tribunal he replied: “That would indeed be very fine ...; it is difficult however....” Then a few questions to us both, the assurance that the document would be carefully read and considered, an inclination of the head, with a gracious “I thank you,” and we were dismissed.
Here is the text of the petition which we presented, and which is now buried in the archives:
To his Majesty Franz Joseph I
Emperor of Austria, Apostolic King of Hungary
King of Bohemia, etc.
Blessing and Grace and Peace!
In common with other organizations of the Christian Church we are taking the liberty of appearing, in all humility, before your Majesty, as the monarch of a great and mighty people, for the purpose of calling your Majesty’s attention to the method of peaceful solution of such difficulties as may arise between the nations of the earth.
The spectacle which Christian peoples present as they face each other with portentous armaments, ready at the slightest challenge to go to war and settle their differences by the shedding of blood, is, to say the least, a stain on the glorious name of Christ.
We cannot, without the deepest pain, look upon the horrors of war, with all the evils which it brings in its train, such as unscrupulous sacrifice of human life, which should be regarded as sacred; bitter poverty in so many homes; destruction of valuable property; interruptions in the education of the young and in the development of the religious life; and general brutalization of the people.