Will Mr. Wells kindly glance through his history and see what we as a nation have suffered at the hands of England?
During three centuries we fought with England about a principle laid down by Grotius of Delft. We claimed that the sea was an open highway, free to all navigators. England used her best legal talent to prove the contrary. In this struggle we exhausted ourselves and we finally lost. Incidentally we saw our richest colonies go into the possession of England. The very colony in which I am writing this letter was taken from us in time of peace. Of course all this is past history and no Hollander is going to accuse an Englishman of acts committed by his great-grandfather. But the people will remember all those things, however vaguely, and they will distrust the nation that has constantly done them harm. We gave England her best King, (if one is to believe Mr. Macaulay.) William III. in order to destroy the power of Louis XIV., and greatly for the benefit of England incidentally, did the greatest harm to the country of his origin. After 1715, totally exhausted, we were obliged to see how England got ahead of us.
Then there are some other small items. I take one at random. While the Duke of Wellington danced the polka in Brussels the Prince of Orange with a small Dutch army stopped Napoleon's progress at Quatre Bras, and by disobeying the orders of the British commander saved the army of the allies and made the victory of Waterloo possible. Our thanks for this self-sacrifice was the mild abuse of Mr. Thackeray and other gentlemen who have ever since laughed at the clumsy Dutch troops who in truth so valiantly assisted the British and Prussians. In this matter a little more generosity on the part of British historians would have made us feel more cordial toward our English neighbors. It was ever thus. To read the story of the Armada one would believe that the English destroyed this dangerous Spanish fleet. As a matter of fact, competent historians know that certainly one-half of the glory for that feat goes to the Dutch sailors, who prevented the Spaniards from getting their supplies, their pilots, and their auxiliary army. These are merely examples. They are all small things. But there are so many of them, they return with such persistent regularity, that we would feel very little inclination to risk our national existence for a nation which, according to our feeling, (rightly or wrongly, I am not debating that question,) has never treated us with fairness, and which we had to fight for over three centuries before it would accept those general principles of international law which first of all were laid down by Grotius in the beginning of the seventeenth century.
Remember, however, that this does not mean any hostility to England. Mr. Wells undoubtedly knows that our ships have invariably done noble work in rescuing the victims of submarine attacks. He will know that our Government (to the great anger of Germany) has construed the articles of several international treaties in the most liberal way and has immediately released all such British subjects as were thrown upon our coast through the accidents of war. He will also know, if he has read the papers, that our entire country has turned out to do homage to the bravery of those men. The danger to the sailor of a British man-of-war who lands in Holland is that he will be killed by a severe attack of nicotine poisoning caused by the cigars which the people, in their desire to show their feelings and unable to break the strict law of neutrality, shower upon the Englishman who is fished out of the North Sea by our trawlers or our steamers.
But away deep under this very strong personal sympathy for England, and with very sincere admiration for the British form of government, the people of Holland cannot easily overcome a feeling of vague distrust that the nation which in the past has so often abused them cannot entirely be counted upon to treat them justly this time. Incidentally, I may say that the bungling of Mr. Churchill in Antwerp, which we know much better than do the people of England, is another reason why we are a bit afraid of the island across the North Sea.
We are indeed in the position of a dog that has often been beaten innocently and that is now smiled upon and asked to be good and attack another person who has never done him any harm. The comparison may not be very flattering to us, but Mr. Wells will understand what I mean. We have had the Germans with us always. Personally, taking them by and large, we like them not. Their ways are not our ways. Our undisciplined race abhors their system. We have seen the misery which they caused in Belgium more closely than any one else. The endless letters and pamphlets with which the Germans have inundated our land to prove the justice of their cause have made no impression whatsoever. We have with our own eyes seen the victims of their very strict explanation of Section 58, Article I., of the German military penal code. We have seen the Belgians hanging by their own red handkerchiefs, and we have with our own hands fed the multitude that had been deprived of everything. On the other hand, Germany has up to date been most scrupulous in her behavior toward us. In the past she has never done us any harm. We may not like her, but she has in a very careful way avoided all friction and has treated us with great consideration.
In view of all this, in view of the very sober attitude of our people upon all matters of our daily life, in view of these historical reflections, which have a very decided influence, would it be quite fair without any provocation on the side of Germany to go forth and attack her in the back, now that she is in such very dangerous straits? I repeat that this may not be the exact sentiment of all of my countrymen, but I believe that very many of us feel things that way. Perhaps we disagree in minor details, but we agree about the main issue.
We love our country. For centuries we have fought to maintain our individual civilization against the large neighbors who surround us. We try to live up to our good reputation as a home for all those who suffer. The people who are made homeless by Germany come to us and we try to feed them on such grain as the British Government allows to pass through the Channel. We try to continue in our duty toward all our neighbors, even when they declare the entire North Sea (in which we also have a certain interest) as a place of battle and blow up our ships with their mines. We patiently destroy the mines which swim away from our neighbors' territorial waters and land upon our shores. In short, we perform a very difficult act of balancing as well as we can. But it seems to us that under difficult circumstances we are following the only correct road which can lead to the ultimate goal which we wish to reach—the lasting respect of all those who will judge us without prejudice and malice.
It is very kind of Mr. Wells to offer us territorial compensation, but we respectfully decline such a reward for the sort of attack which was popular in the days of the old Machiavelli.
HENDRIK WILLEM VAN LOON.