'The greatest American plutocrat may visit Germany and spend money like water, and he remains a mere commoner. The Kaiser may invite him on his yacht and say polite things, but, until he ranks, he is nobody. His wife may manage to be presented at court under the wing of the American ambassadress, but that is nothing! The poorest and most unimportant of the little provincial baronesses outranks her. She will always be an outsider, no matter how long she may live in Germany.
'With us, in Austria, an American woman, no matter whom she marries, is never received at court. She is never "born,"' and he laughed. 'Americans can have no heraldic quarterings; but, then, we do not pretend to be democratic. If I loved an American girl, I would marry her, of course; but if I went to court, I should go alone. It is the rule, and going to court is not such a rare treat to people who are used to it. It becomes a bore.'
To do my German diplomatic colleagues justice, they never attempted masquerades in the guise of democrats. There were other Germans, whom one met in society. These people were always loyal to the Fatherland. Their attitude was that the German world was the best of all possible worlds.
If my own countrymen and countrywomen abroad were as solidly American as these people were German, our politeness would not be so frequently stretched to the breaking point. The most loyal of Germans were American people of leisure who had lived long in Germany with titled relatives. They enjoyed themselves; they lived for a time in the glory of rank.
With those who had to earn their own living in Germany, it was another story. They did not 'rank'; they were ordinary mortals; they had not the entrée to some little provincial court, and so they saw the Prussian point of view as it really was. The American women, strangely enough, who had married ranking Germans loved everything German. 'But how do you endure the interference with your daily life?' my wife asked an American girl married to a Baron.
'I like it; it makes one so safe, so protected; your servants are under the law, and give you no trouble. Order is not an idea, but a method. I know just how my children shall be educated. That is the province of my husband. I have no fault to find.' She laughed. 'I do not have to explain myself; I do not have to say, "I am a Daughter of the Revolution, my uncle was Senator so-and-so"—my place is fixed, and I like it!'
It was a distinguished German professor who assumed the task of convincing American University men that the German Army was democratic, and the conclusion of his syllogism was: 'No officer is ever admitted to a club of officers who has not been voted for by the members.' Would you believe it? It seems incredible that democracy should seem to depend on the votes of an aristocracy and not on principles. But later, just at the beginning of the war, this professor and a half dozen others signed a circular in which the same argument was used. In 1907-8-9-10, the propaganda for convincing Americans that Germany—that is that the Kaiser—loved us was part of the daily life in the best society in the neutral countries.
The Norwegians openly laughed at it. They knew only too well what the Kaiser's opinion of them and their king, Haakon, was. Amazed by the frequent allusions of the admirers of the Kaiser to his love for democracy, especially the American kind, I had a talk one day with one of the most frank and sincere of Germans, the late Baron von der Quettenburg, the father of the present vicar of the Church of St. Ansgar's in Copenhagen. He was a Hanoverian. He was at least seventy years of age when I knew him, but he walked miles; he rode; he liked a good dinner; he enjoyed life in a reasonable way; but he was frequently depressed. Hanover, his proud, his noble, his beautiful Hanover, was a vassal to the arrogant Prussian!
'But, if there were a war you would fight for the Kaiser?' I asked, after a little dinner of which any man might be proud.
'Fight? Naturally. (I did not know that you knew so well how to eat in America.) Fight! Yes! It would be our duty. Russia or France or the Yellow Nations might threaten us;—yes, all my family, except the priest, would fight. But, because one is loyal to the Kaiser through duty, it does not mean that we Hanoverians are Prussians through pleasure. We shall never be content until we are Hanoverians again—nor will Bavaria.'