Ten Years Near the German Frontier: A Retrospect and a Warning

The Congressional Examination of the scandalous rumours that might have reflected on the honour of certain Danish gentlemen and of some of our own Congressmen are a matter of record, and show no traces of any such domination. Curiously enough, there was a persistent rumour of a secret treaty with Denmark which gave the United States an option on the Islands. No such treaty existed, and no Danish Minister of Foreign Affairs of my acquaintance would have dreamed of proposing such an arrangement.

It is hardly necessary to dwell here on the value of these Islands to the United States. President Roosevelt, President Wilson, Senator Lodge, most persistently, made the necessity of possessing these islands, through legitimate purchase, very plain.

The completion of the Panama Canal increased their already great importance. If such men as Seward, Foster, Olney, Root, Hay, and our foremost naval experts considered them worth buying before the issues raised by the creation of the Panama Canal were practical, how much more valuable had they become when that marvellous work was completed! Many interests contributed to the desirability of our acquiring islands in the West Indies – every additional island being of value to us – but the great public seemed to see this as through a glass – darkly.

Puerto Rico was of little value in a strategic way without the Danish Antilles. A cursory examination of the map will show that Puerto Rico, with no harbours for large vessels and its long coast line, would offer no defences against alien forces. Naval experts had clearly seen the hopelessness of defending San Juan. Major Glassford, of the Signal Corps, in a report often quoted and carefully studied by people intelligently interested in the active enforcement of the Monroe Doctrine rather than its mere statement as a method of defence on paper, said that 'St. Thomas might be converted into a second Gibraltar.' He was right. The frightful menace of the cession of Heligoland to Germany was an example of what might happen if we failed to look carefully to the future. Besides, even those advocates of peace, right or wrong, who infested our country before the war, who were not sympathetic with the acquisition of territory, ought to have remembered that one of the best guarantees of peace was to leave nothing to fight about as far as these islands of value in our relations 'to the region of the Orinoco and the Amazon' and the Windward Passages were concerned. The German occupation of Brazil – increasing so greatly that the Brazilians were alarmed, the European prejudices, made evident during the Spanish-American War as existing in South and Central America – were all occasions for thought.

'The harbour of Charlotte Amalie,' wrote Major Glassford, writing of St. Thomas, 'and the numerous sheltered places about the island offer six and seven fathoms of water. Besides, this harbour and the roadsteads are on the southern side of the island, completely protected from the prevailing strong winds. If this place were strongly fortified and provisioned' – the number of inhabitants are small compared with Puerto Rico – 'it would be necessary for an enemy contemplating a descent upon Puerto Rico to take it into account first. The location on the north-east side of the Antilles is in close proximity to many of the passages into the Caribbean Sea, and affords an excellent point of observation near the European possessions in the archipelago. It is also a centre of the West Indian submarine cable systems, being about midway between the Windward Passage and the Trinidad entrance into the Caribbean Sea.'

Other interests distracted attention from the essential value of these islands for local reasons, party reasons, which are the curse of all modern systems of government. The failure to purchase the Islands in 1892 did not discourage Senator Lodge. On March 31st, 1898, the Committee on Foreign Affairs reported a bill authorising the President to buy the Danish West India Islands for a naval and coal station. On this bill, Senator Lodge made a most interesting and valuable report, in which he said, after stating that the fine harbour of St. Thomas possessed all the required naval and military conditions – 'It has been pointed out by Captain Mahan, as one of the great strategic points in the West Indies.' 'The Danish Islands,' he concluded, 'could easily be governed as a territory, could be readily defended from attack, occupy a commanding strategic position, and are of incalculable value to the United States, not only as part of the national defences, but as removing by their possession a very probable cause of foreign complications.'

My predecessors in Denmark, Messrs. Risley, Carr, Svendsen, were of this opinion. The arguments of Mr. Carr, expressed in his despatches, are invincible. Mr. O'Brien, who was minister plenipotentiary to Denmark until he was sent as ambassador to Japan, saw, as I did, in 1907, that the Danes and their Government were in no mood to accept any suggestions on the subject. However, I discussed the matter academically with each minister of Foreign Affairs, saying that the United States would make no proposition at any time which might offend the national self-respect of the Danes, that in fact, as valuable as the Islands would be to us and as expedient as it might be for the Danes to sell them to us, their Government must give some unequivocal sign that it was willing to part with them before we should seriously take up the question again. Neither Count Raben-Levitzau nor Count William Ahlefeldt-Laurvig gave me any official encouragement, though I hardly expected it as I had taken means to sound public opinion on my own account. Both Count Raben-Levitzau and Count Ahlefeldt were Liberal Ministers of Foreign Affairs, and I knew that, if there was any hope that a sale might be made, they would give me reasonable encouragement. Besides, I was doubtful whether the price – which might probably be asked – reasonable enough in my eyes and in the eyes of those European diplomatists who knew what Heligoland and Gibraltar meant to Germany and to England – would not have raised such an outcry among voters at home, who had not yet learned to weigh any transaction with a foreign Government – except commercially, in terms of dollars and cents, that another failure might have followed. It was out of the question to risk that.

Many of my friends among the more conservative of the Danes scorned the idea of the sale on any terms. Among these was Admiral de Richelieu, whose father is buried in St. Thomas, and who is the most intense of Danish patriots. If objections to the sale on the part of my best friends in Denmark had governed me, I should have despaired of it. However, my friends, like de Richelieu, felt that our Government would be glad to see the Danish West India Islands improved as far as the Danes could improve them. De Richelieu, Etatsraad Andersen – Etatsraad meaning Councillor of State – Holger Petersen, Director Cold, formerly Governor of the Islands, Hegemann, who bore the high title of Geheimekonferensraad, were among those most interested in the Islands.

Hegemann, since dead, was the only one of the group who thought that the Danish Government could never either improve the Islands socially or make them pay commercially. 'The Danes are bad colonisers,' he said. He was a man of great common-sense, of wide experience, and a philanthropist who never let his head run away with his heart. He did a great deal for technical education in Denmark. In fact, there was scarcely any movement for the betterment of the country economically in which he was not interested. He had great properties in the island of Santa Cruz; but he looked on the Danish possession of the Islands as bad for the reputation of his native country and worse for the progress of the Islands and the Islanders. 'The present Government is too mild in its treatment of the blacks,' he said; 'equality, liberty and fraternity, the motto of the ruling party, is excellent, but it will not work in the Islands.' Besides, the construction of the Panama Canal was drawing the best labourers from them. He was interested in sugar and even in sea cotton; he thought that, the tariff restrictions being removed and a market for labour made, something might be done by us towards making the Islands a profitable investment. I was entirely indifferent as to that – our great need of the Islands was not for commercial uses.

The prevailing opinion in Court circles was against the sale, based on no antagonism to the United States, but on the desire that Denmark should not lose more of its territory. The Faroe Islands, Greenland and Iceland were still appendages; but Iceland was always restive, and Greenland seemed, in the eyes of the Danes, to have only the value of remotely useful territory. They had been shorn of territory by England, by Sweden, and, last of all, by Germany.

Our Government, knowing well how strong the national pride was, and how reasonable, permitted me to show it the greatest consideration. When the East-Asiatic Company, which had important holdings in St. Thomas, proposed that the national sentiment should be tested, and each Danish citizen asked to make a pecuniary sacrifice for the retention of the Islands, I was permitted to express sympathy with the movement, and to assist it in every way compatible with my position.

The attempt failed. It was evident that the majority of the people, whatever were their sentiments, knew that it was impracticable to attempt to govern the Islands from such a distance. If it had been possible to retain them with honour, with justice to the inhabitants, who for a long time had been desirous of union with the United States, no amount of money would have induced Denmark to part with the last of her colonial possessions. As it was, the prospect was not at all clear.

In modern times, a man who aspires to do his duty in diplomacy must be honest and reasonably frank. To pretend to admire the institutions of a nation, to affect a sympathy one does not feel, with a view to obtaining something of advantage to one's own country, was no doubt possible when foxes were preternaturally cunning and crows unbelievingly vain, but not now. The whole question of the Islands was a matter which must be settled by the commonsense of the Danes at the expense of their sentiment; no pressure on our part could be used, short of such arguments as might point to the forcible possession of the Islands temporarily in case of war; but the fact that the United States preferred to give what seemed to be an enormous sum – (though $25,000,000 have to-day scarcely the purchasing power of the $15,000,000 demanded for the three Islands from Secretary Seward in 1867) – rather than run the risk of future unpleasant complications with a small and friendly State, showed that the intentions of our Government were on a par with its professions.

When the proposed sale of the Islands stopped, largely because Senator Sumner disliked President Johnson, and the treaty lapsed in 1870 in spite of the support of Secretary Fish, King Christian IX. wrote, in a proclamation to the people of the Danish Islands – a majority of whom had consented to the proposed sale, – 'The American Senate has not shown itself willing to maintain the treaty made, although the initiative came from the United States themselves.' The king had only consented to the sale to lighten the terrible financial burdens imposed on his country by the unjust war which Germany and Austria had forced upon Denmark with a view to the theft of Slesvig; and his consent would never have been given had not Secretary Seward, the predecessor of Secretary Fish, reluctantly agreed that the vote of the inhabitants should be taken. He was more democratic than Mr. Seward.

King Christian would not sign the treaty, which gave $7,500,000 to Denmark for the two Islands of St. Thomas and St. John, until Mr. Seward consented to 'concede the vote.' The Danes were frank in admitting that their 'poverty, but not their will,' consented. 'Ready as We were to subdue the feelings of Our heart, when We thought that duty bade Us so to do,' continued the king in his proclamation, 'yet We cannot otherwise than feel a satisfaction that circumstances have relieved Us from making a sacrifice which, notwithstanding the advantages held out, would always have been painful to Us. We are convinced that You share these sentiments, and that it is with a lightened heart You are relieved from the consent which only at Our request You gave for a separation from the Danish crown.'

The king added that he entertained the firm belief that his Government, supported by the Islanders, would succeed in making real progress, and end by effacing all remembrances of the disasters that had come upon them, his overseas dominions. Affairs in the mother country did look up; the Danes developed their country, in spite of the worst climatic conditions, into a land famous for its scientific farming. A wit has said that Denmark, after the loss of Slesvig, was divided like old Gaul, itself, into three parts, – butter, eggs and bacon. The Danes, cast into a condition of moral despondency and temporal poverty, with their national pride stricken, and their soil outworn, seized the things of the spirit and made material things subservient. Religion and patriotism, developed by Bishop Grundtvig, saved the mother country; but the Islands continued to go through various stages of hope and fear. The United States was too near and Denmark too far off. Home politics were generally paramount, and each new governor was always obliged to consider the sensitiveness of his Government to the amount of expenditure allowed. There were persons in power at home who seemed to see the Islands from the point of view of Bernardin de Saint Pierre – sentimentally. The happy black men were to dance under spreading palms, gently guided by Danish Pauls and Virginias! The black men were only too willing to dance under palms, whether spreading or not, and to be guided by any idyllic persons who, leaving them the pleasures of existence, would take the trials. All the governors suffered more or less from the Rousseau-like point of view taken by the Government. Mr. Helvig Larsen was the last who was expected to be 'idyllic.' One of the fears often expressed to me was that 'the Americans would treat the blacks badly – we have all read Uncle Tom's Cabin, you know.'

Even Her Majesty, the Dowager Queen Louise, one of the best-informed women in Europe, had her doubts about our attitude to the negroes. 'You have black nurses,' Her Majesty said to me; 'why are your people, especially in the South, not more kind to their race?' Queen Louise, who was sincerely interested in the welfare of her coloured subjects, would listen to reason. I sent her the Soul of the Black, which shows unconsciously why social equality in this case would be undesirable, but not until Booker Washington's visit did Her Majesty understand the attitude that sensible Americans, who know the South, take on the subject of the social equality of our coloured fellow-citizens. During my stay in Europe this matter was frequently discussed.

Some of my German colleagues politely insinuated that 'democracy' was little practised in a country where a President could be severely censured for inviting a coloured man of distinction to lunch. And nearly all the Danes of the modern school took this point of view. The naval officers, who are always better informed as to foreign conditions than most other men, readily understood that social equality assumes a meaning in the United States which would imply the probability of what is known as 'amalgamation.' While the German critic of our conditions might very well understand the impossible barrier of caste in his own country and object to 'permanent marriages' with women of the inferior 'yellow' races, he seemed to think that the laws in some of the United States against the marriages of blacks and whites were un-Christian and illogical.

'But you would not encourage such marriages?' I asked of one of the most distinguished Danes at the Copenhagen University.

'Why not?' he asked.

From my point of view, the case was hopeless. And every now and then an extract from an American paper, containing the account of a lynching with all the gruesome details described, would be translated into Danish. I never believed in censoring the press until I came to occupy a responsible position in Denmark. I confess, mea culpa! – that I wanted many times to have the right to say what should or should not be reprinted for foreign consumption! The newspapers seemed to have no regard for the plans of the diplomatists, believing news is news! There will always be the irrepressible conflict!

One of my wife's friends in Denmark, the late Countess Rantzau, born of the famous theatrical family of the Poulsens, who was well-read, and who knew her Europe well, produced one day an old embroidered screen for my benefit. There were the palms; there was an ancient African with a turban on his very woolly head; there was a complacent young person in stiff skirts seated at his feet, looking up to him with adoring eyes. 'Antique?' I asked, preparing to admire the work of art; the tropical foliage of acanthus leaves was so flourishing in the tapestry, and the luncheon had been so good!

'It is not as a work of art that I show it to the American Minister, but to let him know that we Danes love the virtues of the blacks. This is Uncle Tom and Little Eva!'

It was intended to soften a hard heart!

In October 1910 Mr. Andrew Carnegie telegraphed that Mr. Booker Washington would pay a visit to Denmark. I had met Mr. Booker Washington with Mr. Richard Watson Gilder in New York, and I admired him very greatly. However, I felt that I should be embarrassed by his visit, as I knew both King Frederick and Queen Louise were interested in him and would not only expect me to present him, but likewise – they were the fine flowers of courtesy – wish my wife and myself to dine at Amalieborg Palace with him. When Admiral Bardenfleth, the queen's chamberlain, came to inquire as to when Mr. Booker Washington should arrive, I suggested that Her Majesty, who had often shown her high appreciation of Mr. Washington's work, might like to talk with him informally, as I knew that she had many questions to ask, and that he himself would be more at his ease if I were not present. The Admiral thanked me. I said the same thing to the Master of Ceremonies of the Court when he came on behalf of the king.

For charm of manner, ease, the simplicity that conceals the perfection of social art, and at least apparent sympathy with one's difficulties, let the high officials of the Court of Denmark be commended! The Master of Ceremonies was delighted. Their Majesties would miss me from the introduction and regret that Mrs. Egan and I would not be present at the dinner, which, however, would be earlier than usual, as I had said that Mr. Booker Washington must catch a train; it would also be very unceremonious. His Majesty would ask only his immediate entourage.

I was pleased with myself (a fatal sign by the way!); Mr. Washington would have all the honour due him. I arranged to attend his lecture, with all the Americans I could collect. I sent the landau with two men on the box, including the magnificent Arthur and the largest cockades, to meet Mr. Washington. In 1910, King Frederick used only carriages and the diplomatists followed his example, though some of a more advanced temperament had taken to motor cars. Mr. Washington was pleased. He loved the landau and the cockades, and Arthur, our first man, who had been 'in diplomacy twenty-five years,' treated him with distinction.

'You have honoured my people and my work most delicately,' he said to me. 'I thank you for sending me the king's invitation to dinner to the Hôtel d'Angleterre. Too much public talk of this honour in the United States would do my people and myself much harm. I will make, in print, an acknowledgment of your courtesy, so effective and so agreeable. To have my work recognised in this manner by the most advanced Court in Europe is indeed worth while, and to have this honour without too much publicity is indeed agreeable.'

Mr. Washington's lecture had been a great success. It had helped, too, to do away with the impression that lynching is to the Americans of North America what bull fights are to those of South America. The most awkward question constantly put to me at Court and in society was, 'But why do you lynch the black men?'

Filled with satisfaction at the result of my machinations (a bad state of mind, as I have said), I was bending over my desk one morning when two correspondents of American newspapers were announced. They came from London; I had met them both before.

'Cigars?'

'Yes. We do not want to give you trouble, Mr. Minister; you were very decent to us all in the Cook affair, but we shall make a good story out of this Booker Washington visit, and we think it is only fair to say that we are going to 'feature' you. There is nothing much doing now, and we've been asked to work this thing up. We know on the best authority that the king will give a dinner to Booker Washington; you will respond with a reception; Mrs. Egan will be taken in to dinner by Mr. Washington; there will be lots of ladies there – in a word, we'll get as big a sensation out of it as the newspapers did out of the Roosevelt-Booker Washington incident. It will do you good in the North, and, as you're a Philadelphian, you need not care what the South thinks.'

These gentlemen meant to be kind; they were dropping me into a hole kindly, but they were letting me into a hole!

'It is not a question as to how I feel,' I said; 'it is a question of raising unpleasant discussions, of injuring the coloured people by holding out false hopes, which, hurried into action, excite new prejudices against them. President Roosevelt, when he invited Booker Washington to lunch, acted as I should like to act now, but I would regret the ill-feeling raised by discussions of such an incident as greatly as he regretted it; but,' I added, 'you have your duty to your papers, which must have news, although the heavens fall. If my wife is taken in to dinner by Mr. Booker Washington at Court, if I give the reception you speak of – '

'You will,' said the elder newspaper man, joyously; 'it is a matter of rigid etiquette. We have a private tip!'

'Very well, when I do these things, I shall not complain if you headline them.'

'Sensation in Denmark,' he read, from a slip. 'Wife of American Minister is taken in to Dinner by Representative Coloured Man. Perfect Social Equality Exemplified by Reception to Mr. Booker Washington at American Legation! London will like you all the better for that,' he said, laughing.

'As "tout Paris" liked President Roosevelt,' I answered.

I shivered a little. 'Come to lunch to-morrow, but do not let us talk on this subject. If I am compelled by etiquette, as you insist I shall, I'll swallow the headlines. I shall ask Mr. Hartvig of some London papers and the New York World to meet you.' And off they went!

If I were a Spartan person and really loved to perform my duties in the most idealistic way, I should have treated the situation greatly, nobly, and unselfishly; I should not have been pleased at the prospect of cheating my journalistic friends out of a good story; but, not being Spartan and really not loving difficult duties, I felt that I had done enough in giving them a luncheon worthy of the reputation of our Legation, with sole à la Bernaise and the best Sauterne.

Mr. Washington called before he went to the king's dinner; he was all smiles, and his evening suit was perfect. He said 'good-bye,' and I was thankful that the event of his visit was over; he was not only satisfied, but radiant and grateful.

Consul-General Bond and his wife, Dr. Brochardt, of the Library of Congress, and several other interesting people were to come in, to dine and to play bridge this evening. I fancied the disappointment of the newspaper men when they should arrive, to find no reception in progress and no Booker Washington. I think I told my guests of the remarkably clever way – I hope I did not use that phrase – by which they had been outwitted.

We were about to go into the drawing-room for coffee when a card was brought in. 'Mr. Booker Washington.' Some of the guests, those from the South especially, wanted to see him; but I trembled when I imagined the scene that would meet the reporters, who were, I knew, sure to come about nine o'clock. The drawing-room would be brilliantly lighted, half a dozen charming ladies in evening gowns would be there, surrounding the eminent apostle! Enter the writers, and then would follow an elaborate sketch of the social function to be described as a New Step in Social Evolution, the Dawn of a New Day, a Symbol of Entire Social Equality. I knew that the elder newspaper man, a friend of Stead's, was quite capable of all this!