It was only a few brief years since the railroads of the German Empire were all in the hands of private owners—of “frenzied financiers” who robbed both the government and the people in outrageous mail, freight and passenger rates. Germans will not stand for such conditions long. The people shouted aloud their grievances and demanded redress—demanded a remedy.
The German government heard and heeded the demands of its people. It usually does. When it started to give its people relief it was met on every hand with just the same sort of talk as has been heard in this country for a quarter of a century.
“You can’t cut down the rates, for the roads are now earning barely enough to pay fair interest on the investment.”
“You can’t trespass upon the ‘sacred rights’ of property.”
“You can’t think of taking such action! Why, it would create a financial upheaval—a panic—causing widespread disaster and bankrupting the railway companies.”
“You cannot possibly be so inconsiderate as to endanger the savings of the hundreds of thousands of widows and orphans who have invested in our stocks and bonds”—and a lot more of like junk.
But the Chancellor of the Exchequer was a clear-headed, clean-minded old German, with the rugged honesty for which his race is justly noted. Well, this Chancellor listened with courteous dignity to all their “you can’t do this,” “You can’t do that,” etc., until it was made quite clear to his mind that frenzied financiers and railroad grafters in his country were dictating as to the powers and policies of his government.
What happened then? Why, as Creelman put in writing of the incident, when this grand old Von heard enough of those “you can’ts” to make their object and purpose clear to him, he jumped to his feet and turned loose a few yards of forceful German language which, translated, summarized and anglicized, would sound something like this:
“I can’t! Well, you just watch me!”