The New York Times Current History: the European War, February, 1915

by Various

IT pays to take a birdseye view of a phenomenon which, in a most interesting fashion, is becoming more and more apparent: the increase of the German hatred against Englishmen and the diminution of the German hatred against the Frenchmen.

The most eloquent examples of this white-hot wrath against the English are the now well-known army orders of the Bavarian Crown Prince, Rupprecht. Under date of Oct. 29 the text of the first order was made public. It reads:

Soldiers of the Sixth Army! We have now the good luck to have also the Englishmen opposite us on our front, troops of that race whose envy was at work for years to surround us with a ring of foes and to throttle us. That race especially we have to thank for this war. Therefore, when now the order is given to attack this foe, practice retribution for their hostile treachery and for the many heavy sacrifices! Show them that the Germans are not so easily to be wiped out of history. Show them that, with German blows of a special kind. (Mit deutsche Hiebe von ganz besouderer Art!) Here is the opponent who most blocks a restoration of the (Drauf,) peace. Up and at him!

RUPPRECHT.

Under date of Nov. 11 an order of similar purport issued by the same army commander was made public:

Soldiers! The eyes of the whole world are upon you. It is now imperative that in the battle with our most hated foe we shall not grow numb, and that we shall at last break his arrogance. Already he is growing pliable, (mürbe.) Numerous officers and men have surrendered voluntarily, but the great decisive blow is still to be struck. Therefore you must persevere to the end. The enemy must be downed; you must not let him loose from your teeth. (Ihr musst ihn nicht aus den Zahnen lessen.) We must, will and shall conquer!

At the same time the Bavarian Crown Prince had the "Song of Hate Against England" of Ernst Lissauer distributed among the troops as an army order. This poem, which was issued as early as Sept. 1 in the "Kultur-Beiträgen," published by R. Dammert in Berlin, reads in full:

HASSGESANG GEGEN ENGLAND. Was schiert uns Russe und Franzos'? Schuss wider Schuss und Stoss um Stoss, Wir lieben sie nicht, Wir hassen sie nicht, Wir schützen Weichsel und Wasgaupass, Wir haben nur einen einzigen Hass, Wir lieben vereint, wir hassen vereint, Wir haben nur einen einzigen Feind: Denn ihr alle wisst, denn ihr alle wisst, Er sitzt geduckt hinter der grauen Flut, Voll Neid, voll Wut, voll Schläue, voll List, Durch Wasser getrennt, die sind dicker als Blut. Wir wollen treten in ein Gericht, Einen Schwur zu schwören, Gesicht in Gesicht. Einen Schwur von Erz, den verbläst kein Wind, Einen Schwur für Kind und für Kindeskind, Vernehmt das Wort, sagt nach das Wort, Es wälzt sich durch ganz Deutschland fort: Wir wollen nicht lassen von unserem Hass, Wir haben alle nur einen Hass, Wir lieben vereint, wir hassen vereint, Wir haben alle nur einen Feind: ENGLAND! In der Bordkajüte, im Feiersaal, Sassen Schiffsoffiziere beim Liebesmahl, Wie ein Säbelhieb, wie ein Segelschwung, Einer riss grüssend empor den Trunk, Knapp hinknallend wie Ruderschlag, Drei Worte sprach er: "Auf den Tag!" Wem galt das Glas? Sie hatten alle nur einen Hass. Wer war gemeint? Sie hatten alle nur einen Feind: ENGLAND! Nimm du die Völker der Erde in Sold, Baue Wälle aus Barren von Gold, Bedecke die Meerflut mit Bug bei Bug, Du rechnetest klug, doch nicht klug genug. Was schiert uns Russe und Franzos'! Schuss wider Schuss, und Stoss um Stoss. Wir kämpfen den Kampf mit Bronze und Stahl Und schliessen Frieden irgend einmal, Dich werden wir Hassen mit langem Hass, Wir werden nicht lassen von unserem Hass, Hass zu Wasser und Hass zu Land, Hass des Hauptes und Hass der Hand, Hass der Hämmer und Hass der Kronen, Drosselnder Hass von siebzig Millionen, Sie lieben vereint, sie hassen vereint, Sie alle haben nur einen Feind: ENGLAND!

[Following is a translation of the song by Barbara Henderson, appearing in The New York Times of Oct. 15, 1914:]

French and Russian, they matter not, A blow for a blow and a shot for a shot! We love them not, we hate them not, We hold the Weichsel and Vosges gate. We have but one and only hate, We love as one, we hate as one, We have one foe and one alone. He is known to you all, he is known to you all, He crouches behind the dark gray flood, Full of envy, of rage, of craft, of gall, Cut off by waves that are thicker than blood. Come, let us stand at the Judgment Place, An oath to swear to, face to face, An oath of bronze no wind can shake, An oath for our sons and their sons to take. Come, hear the word, repeat the word, Throughout the Fatherland make it heard. We will never forego our hate, We have all but a single hate, We love as one, we hate as one, We have one foe and one alone— ENGLAND! In the Captain's Mess, in the banquet hall, Sat feasting the officers, one and all, Like a sabre blow, like the swing of a sail, One seized his glass and held high to hail; Sharp-snapped like the stroke of a rudder's play, Spoke three words only: "To the Day!" Whose glass this fate? They had all but a single hate. Who was thus known? They had one foe and one alone— ENGLAND! Take you the folk of the Earth in pay, With bars of gold your ramparts lay, Bedeck the ocean with bow on bow, Ye reckon well, but not well enough now. French and Russian, they matter not, A blow for a blow, a shot for a shot, We fight the battle with bronze and steel, And the time that is coming Peace will seal. You we will hate with a lasting hate, We will never forego our hate, Hate by water and hate by land, Hate of the head and hate of the hand, Hate of the hammer and hate of the crown, Hate of seventy millions choking down. We love as one, we hate as one, We have one foe and one alone— ENGLAND!