I mention the Poles specially because from Poland there passed during my three years of captivity to the prison of the Stadtvogtei a greater number of prisoners than from any other place. Of two hundred and fifty prisoners quite two-thirds were of Polish origin. The other prisoners included English, French, Italians, Russians, Portuguese; in fact, all the nations at war with Germany were represented. At times there were Arabs, Hindoos, African negroes, Japanese, and Chinese.
What may surprise the reader is the fact that the four central powers themselves–Germany, Austria, Bulgaria, and Turkey–held constantly some of their own subjects in this prison. Germany never had less than from five to ten of her subjects in the jail. They were mostly political prisoners who were reputed to be a menace to the security of the German empire. I shall have occasion later on to speak about two prisoners, in particular, Socialist members of the Reichstag. But more than Germany and her allies and the countries with whom they were at war were represented in this prison. At different times, prisoners belonging to the neutral nations of Europe–Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Holland, Switzerland, and Spain–were guests at the Stadtvogtei.
How was this? the reader may ask. It is as easy to explain the imprisonment of these people as to explain the incarceration of German subjects. A Dane or a Hollander would visit Berlin on business or for other purposes. He would naturally frequent the cafés, and there enter into conversation with some Germans. If he imprudently ventured to criticize Germany’s foreign policy or her conduct of military or naval operations his fate was sealed. He would be allowed to return to his hotel; he would sleep peacefully the rest of the night, quite ignorant of the ugly fact that a sword was suspended over his head; but at seven o’clock the next morning, he would inevitably be called upon to follow a constable to the nearest station, whence he would be delivered over to the Stadtvogtei, the veritable clearing house of Germany. He would be ignorant of the cause of his imprisonment, and only after days, perhaps weeks, of protest and correspondence with the legation or embassy of his country, would he be submitted to an examination by the gentlemen (?) of the Kommandantur. If, eventually, he succeeded in regaining his liberty, he would be taken from jail direct to the frontier, without having the opportunity even to call back at the hotel for his personal baggage.
CHAPTER XVII
MEALS À LA CARTE
The manner in which war prisoners and interned civilians were fed and treated in Germany gave rise, as we all know, to bitter complaints and more bitter controversies in the newspaper press of the allied countries. The repeated complaints of the prisoners themselves, in their letters to friends in Great Britain, and through the United States Embassy is a matter of record. Let me relate an incident which is not lacking in interest: Among the Englishmen who were interned at the Stadtvogtei was a Mr. F. T. Moore, civil engineer, who was in Luxemburg when war was declared. He was captured when that principality was overrun by the German troops, and subsequently sent to Treve. After several months’ solitary confinement he was court-martialed on a charge of espionage. He was condemned to the prison at Berlin, and here we met and became friends. At the outset Mr. Moore wrote a post-card to his wife in England telling her the condition of his health and incidentally referring to the kind of food that was supplied to us. His description was something of a masterpiece. “The food we are getting here,” he wrote, “is unspeakable. It is enough to keep a man from dying, but it is not sufficient to keep a man alive.”
It required, one may readily imagine, a certain courage to send such a statement through the mail. On the following day the censor himself called at the jail, and carried the card in question direct to Mr. Moore’s cell. It was represented that Mr. Moore had committed a grave imprudence in writing to England in this manner, and when Mr. Moore submitted that there was no exaggeration, that it was the truth and nothing but the truth, the censor retorted that if Germany did not provide more substantial and better food for her prisoners it was due solely to the British blockade.
The jail’s menu as I knew it during the three years I was interned varied very little. It consisted of one piece of black bread weighing eight ounces, distributed each morning at eight o’clock. At eleven a.m. we were served with what was ridiculously termed the “mittag essen,” that is to say, “the mid-day meal.” It consisted of what they were pleased to call porridge or soup. At five o’clock in the afternoon the acting-officer would return, this time accompanied by two Poles, who would distribute another variety of soup. There is soup “and” soup. The liquid which they served to us did not belong to the category of real soup. The ingredients were varied, generally they consisted of turnips, cabbage, and sometimes a few beans. It was never good, but sometimes it was worse than others. Generally it was bad in the morning and always worse at the afternoon serving. Apparently, the Poles suffered more than we did. On many an occasion one of these unfortunate men has come and begged a biscuit or a piece of bread from me.