My Four Years in Germany

by James W. Gerard

On the first of August at five P. M. the order for mobilisation was given, and at seven-ten P. M. war was declared by Germany on Russia, the Kaiser proclaiming from the balcony of the palace that "he knew no parties more."

Of course, during these days the population of Berlin was greatly excited. Every night great crowds of people paraded the streets singing "Deutschland Ueber Alles" and demanding war. Extras, distributed free, were issued at frequent intervals by the newspapers, and there was a general feeling among the Germans that their years of preparation would now bear fruit, that Germany would conquer the world and impose its Kultur upon all nations.

On the second of August, I called in the morning to say good-bye to the Russian Ambassador. His Embassy was filled with unfortunate Russians who had gone there to seek protection and help. Right and left, men and women were weeping and the whole atmosphere seemed that of despair.

On the day the Russian Ambassador left, I sent him my automobile to take him to the station. The chauffeur and footman reported to me that the police protection was inadequate, that the automobile was nearly overturned by the crowd, and that men jumped on the running board and struck the Ambassador and the ladies with him in the face with sticks. His train was due to leave at one-fifteen P. M. At about ten minutes of one, while I was standing in my room in the Embassy surrounded by a crowd of Americans, Mrs. James, wife of the Senator from Kentucky and Mrs. Post Wheeler, wife of our Secretary to the Embassy in Japan, came to me and said that they were anxious to get through to Japan via Siberia and did not know what to do. I immediately scribbled a note to the Russian Ambassador asking him to take them on the train with him. This, and the ladies, I confided to the care of a red-headed page boy of the Embassy who spoke German. By some miracle he managed to get them to the railroad station before the Ambassador's train left, the Ambassador kindly agreeing to take them with him. His train, however, instead of going to Russia, was headed for Denmark; and from there the two ladies crossed to Sweden, thence to England, and so home, it being perhaps as well for them that they did not have an opportunity to attempt the Siberian journey during this period of mobilisation.

The Russian Ambassador reciprocated by confiding to me a Russian Princess who had intended to go out with him but who, intimidated, perhaps, by the scenes on the way to the station, had lost her nerve at the railway station and refused to depart with the Ambassador. She remained for a while in Berlin, and after some weeks recovered sufficient courage to make the trip to Denmark.

On the morning of August fourth, having received an invitation the day before, I "attended" at the Palace in Berlin. In the room where the court balls had been held in peace times, a certain number of the members of the Reichstag were assembled. The diplomats were in a gallery on the west side of the room. Soon the Emperor, dressed in field grey uniform and attended by several members of his staff and a number of ladies, entered the room. He walked with a martial stride and glanced toward the gallery where the diplomats were assembled, as if to see how many were there. Taking his place upon the throne and standing, he read an address to the members of the Reichstag. The members cheered him and then adjourned to the Reichstag where the Chancellor addressed them, making his famous declaration about Belgium, stating that "necessity knew no law," and that the German troops were perhaps at that moment crossing the Belgian frontier. Certain laws which had been prepared with reference to the government of the country, and which I will give in more detail in another place, as well as the war credit, were voted upon by the Reichstag. The Socialists had not been present in the Palace, but joined now in voting the necessary credits.

On the afternoon of August fourth, I went to see von Jagow to try and pick up any news. The British Ambassador sat in the waiting-room of the Foreign Office. Sir Edward told me that he was there for the purpose of asking for his passports. He spoke in English, of course, and I am sure that he was overheard by a man sitting in the room who looked to me like a German newspaper man, so that I was not surprised when, late in the afternoon, extra sheets appeared upon the street announcing that the British Ambassador had asked for his passports and that Great Britain had declared war.

At this news the rage of the population of Berlin was indescribable. The Foreign Office had believed, and this belief had percolated through all classes in the capital, that the English were so occupied with the Ulster rebellion and unrest in Ireland that they would not declare war.

CROWDS IN FRONT OF THE EMBASSY AWAITING BULLETINS, AUGUST, 1914.

THE AMERICAN EMBASSY WAS THE CENTRE OF INTEREST TO MANY IN THOSE EARLY DAYS OF THE WAR.