
Полная версия
The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 10
The craziest thing in the way of architecture is the Church of Ivan Blajennoj, on the Red Square before the Kremlin. It cannot be described. This building stands on uneven ground, although the fine level Place is before it. It crouches on the edge of the hill, and leaves one leg hanging down. There is no trace of any symmetry. It has no central point, and no one part is like another. One cupola looks like an onion, another like a pineapple, an artichoke, a melon, or a Turkish turban. It contains nine different churches, each having its own altar, Ikonostase, and sanctuary. You enter several of these on the ground floor. To reach others, you ascend a few steps. Between these is a labyrinth of passages so narrow that two people can with difficulty pass each other. Of course, all these churches are very narrow. The one in the main tower can scarcely contain more than twenty or thirty persons, and yet its vaulted roof reaches into the tower at a height of over a hundred feet. This church is painted with all the colors of the rainbow, inside and out, and plated with silver and gold. The cupolas shine with red, green, and blue glazed bricks, and even the masonry has been colored by the artist.
This monstrosity emanated from the brain of Ivan Hrosnoj, "the Terrible John." When he saw the architect's work complete he was delighted, loaded him with praise, embraced him, and then ordered his eyes to be put out, that no such second masterpiece should be attributed to him.
But, with all its singularity, this church does not produce a disagreeable impression. It cannot be denied that it is at least original.
Everything, on the contrary, left from the old Dworez (palace) is really beautiful. There is a strange four-story building narrowing toward the top. There is a balcony formed by each receding story, from which there is a fine view. The second story contains, besides the rich but small chapel, a banquet-hall, like the Kanter's,41 in Marienburg, only that there the entire vaulted roof is borne by a slender column, and here by a thick pillar. The entrance is in one corner; the throne stands diagonally opposite in the other. At present, the walls are covered with splendid tapestries, and the great throne draped with drap d'or, lined with real ermine. This drapery cost forty thousand rubles. The small but exquisite rooms in the third story are charming. The fourth story is only one large room. It was the Terima, or dwelling of the women—the room in which Peter I. grew up.
At the parole delivery all the regiments were represented, the cavalry mounted. It was beautiful to see specimens of all these dazzling uniforms: the Cuirassiers, with the Byzantine double eagle upon their helmets, something like our Garde du Corps, but with lances; the Uhlans, almost exactly like ours; the Hussars, in white dolmans with golden cords; the line Cossacks, with fur caps and red caftans; the Tschernamorskish Cossacks, in dark blue coats with red jackets over them; and the Ural ones with light blue—all with lances, on little horses and high saddles. The Tartars are nearly all heathen or Moslem. The Circassians appeared in scaly coats of mail and helmets. They showed off their equestrian accomplishments, fired from the horse with their long guns, shielded themselves from their pursuers by their kantschu,42 concealed themselves by throwing their bodies on one side so that they touched the ground with their hands; others stood upright in the saddle—all done at full gallop and amidst fearful noise.
A regiment of Drushins,43 an Imperial militia levied on the Imperial apanage estates, pleased me well. They wore a cap with the cross of St. Andrew, bare neck; the native caftan, only shorter and without a button; very wide trousers, the shirt over them (as with all common Russians), and the end of their trousers tucked into their high boots. Such is the uniformed Mujik (peasant). This dress is national, becoming and useful. The men can wear their furs (which are here indispensable) underneath; and I will venture to say that the entire Russian infantry will adopt a similar costume. "Les proverbes sont l'esprit des peuples," and the national dress is the result of the experience of centuries in regard to what is becoming and appropriate.
The Austrian uniform is white in Moravia and brown in the Banat, because the sheep there are of that color. The Spaniard wears the tabarra, as he receives the material from the goat. The Arabian is white from head to foot, because the heat of his climate requires it; and the Mujik does not wear his caftan from caprice, but because it suits him best.
The Emperor's cortège is truly imposing—about five hundred horses.
If I only had a better memory for persons and names! I have made the acquaintance of a number of interesting men; that is, I have been presented to them: Prince Gortschakoff, Lueders, Berg, and Osten-Sacken, who commanded in the last war; Orloff, Mentschikoff, Alderberg, Liewen, the Governor of Siberia, and the commandant of the Caucasus; then a lot of aides-de-camp, the foreign princes, and their suites.
One can be truly thankful if one rides a strange horse without causing or experiencing some disaster. A bad rider comes up from behind; a horse sets himself in your way; here a mare kicks up behind; there a stallion kicks up in front. It is but a small affair to ride alone, but in the confusion of such a train, in a short trot on a lively beast, one must keep one's eyes open. Suddenly the Emperor stops, and there is a general halt; or he turns to one side, and then there is great confusion; he gallops forward, and all plunge after him, while the head of the column has again taken a short movement. With all this the flags are flying, the trumpets are blowing, the drums are beating, and there are endless hurrahs. But one must also see something. I rode a little black horse that I would like to possess; he goes like an East Prussian, but is very spirited, and I constantly found myself in the front among the grand dukes. But I shall get on well with him when we know each other better. He needs a quiet rider with a firm seat, and a light hand on the reins.
This evening at sunset, I again ascended the Kremlin. "Diem perdidi" I should say of the day of my sojourn there in which I did not visit this wonderful structure.
I descended to the Moskwa, and, from under the fine quay, examined the massive white walls, the towers and the gate forts which surround the Czar's palace, and a whole town of churches of the strangest structure. Tonight the city gives a grand entertainment, from which I shall absent myself to write. One receives so many impressions that it is impossible to digest them all and collect one's thoughts.
I am trying to understand this architecture. In Culm, in West Prussia, I saw last year in the marketplace such a curious City Hall that I could not reconcile it in my mind; now I understand that it is Moscovite architecture. The Knights of the Sword of Liefland were in intimate connection with the German Knights in Prussia, and one of their architects may have repeated on the Vistula what he had seen on the Moskwa.
The fountains here remind one of the East; little, round covered houses on the principal squares, which are constantly surrounded by men and beasts supplying themselves with water. At first they seem rude and awkward when compared with the fine style, the rich sculpture, the golden railings, and the perforated marble walls of the Tschesmas of Constantinople. There are here, as in the mosques, swarms of doves that are so bold that they scarcely leave room for carriages and foot-passengers. They are often chased out of the shops like a brood of chickens, and they go everywhere for food. No one does them any harm, and the Russians think it a sin to eat them. The Gostinoy Dwor (the merchants' court) is especially a repetition of the Oriental Tschurchi. One booth is next to the other, and the narrow passages that separate them are covered; therefore the same dim light and the same smell of leather and spices exist as at the Missir, or Egyptian market, in Constantinople. The wares here, however, are mostly European, and cheaper at home, so that we are not much tempted to buy.
If I had my choice, I would rather live in Moscow than in St.
Petersburg.
Peter the Great found an island without any seacoast. He could look upon the Black Sea or the Baltic as a communication with the civilized world; but one or the other must first be conquered. The hot-headed King of Sweden pressed him to a Northern war, and, besides, the Southern Sea was inhabited by barbarians. His original intention, it is said, was to build his new capital on the Pontus, and that he even had selected the spot. The one coast, indeed, is not much farther from the centre of the empire than the other.
How would it have been had he built his St. Petersburg on the beautiful harbor of Sebastopol, close to the paradisiac heights of the Tschadyr Dagh, where the grape grows wild and everything flourishes in the open air that is forced through a greenhouse on the Neva; where no floods threaten destruction; where the navy is not frozen fast during seven months of the year; and where steam power makes an easier communication with the most beautiful countries of Europe than the Gulf of Finland does?
What a city would St. Petersburg have been, did her wide streets extend to Balaklava and did the Winter Palace face the deep blue mirror of the Black Sea; if the Isaac Church stood at the height of Malakoff; if Aluschta and Orianda were the Peterhof and Gatschina44 of the Imperial family!
THE PEACE MOVEMENT
TRANSLATED BY EDMUND VON MACH, PH.D[Professor Bluntschli had sent the manual of the Institute of International Law to Count Moltke, and expressed the hope, in a letter dated November 19, 1880, that it would meet with his approval. Count Moltke replied as follows:]
My dear Professor:
You have been good enough to send me the manual published by the Institute of International Law, and you ask for my approval. In the first place, I fully recognize your humane endeavors to lessen the sufferings which war brings in its train.
Eternal peace, however, is a dream, and not even a beautiful dream, for war is part of God's scheme of the world. In war the noblest virtues of man develop courage and renunciation, the sense of duty and abnegation, and all at the risk of his life. Without war the world would be swallowed up in the morass of materialism.
With the principle stated in the preface, that the gradual advance of civilization should be reflected in the conduct of war, I fully agree; but I go further, and believe that civilization alone, and no codified laws of warfare, can have the desired result.
Every law necessitates an authority to watch over it and to direct its execution, but there is no power which can enforce obedience to international agreements. Which third state will take up arms because one—or both—of two powers at war with each other have broken the loi de la guerre? The human judge is lacking. In these matters we can hope for success only from the religious and moral education of the individuals, and the honor and sense of right of the leaders, who make their own laws and act according to them, at least to the extent to which the abnormal conditions of war permit it.
Nobody, I think, can deny that the general softening of men's manners has been followed by a more humane way of waging war.
Compare, if you will, the coarseness of the Thirty Years' War with the battles of recent dates.
The introduction in our generation of universal service in the army has marked a long step in the direction of the desired aim, for it has brought also the educated classes into the army. Some rough and violent elements have survived, it is true, but the army no longer consists of them exclusively.
The governments, moreover, have two means at hand to prevent the worst excesses. A strong discipline, practiced and perfected in times of peace, and a commissariat equipped to provide for the troops in the field.
Without careful provision, discipline itself can be only moderately well enforced. The soldier who suffers pain and hunger, fatigue and danger, cannot take merely en proportion avec les ressources du pays, but he must take whatever he needs. You must not ask of him superhuman things.
The greatest blessing in war is its speedy termination, and to this end all means must be permitted which are not downright criminal. I cannot at all give my approval to the Déclaration de St. Petersbourg, that "the weakening of the hostile army" is the only justifiable procedure in war. On the contrary, all resources of the hostile government must be attacked—its finances, railways, provisions, and even its prestige.
The last war against France was waged in this way, and yet with greater moderation than any earlier war. The campaign was decided after two months; and fierceness became characteristic of the fighting only when a revolutionary government continued the war through four more months, to the detriment of the country.
I am glad to acknowledge that your manual, with its clear and short sentences, does greater justice than former attempts to what is needed in war. But even the acceptance of your regulations by the governments would not ensure their observance. It has long been a universally accepted rule of warfare that no messenger of peace should be shot at. But in the last campaign we frequently saw this done.
No paragraph learned by heart will convince the soldier that the unorganized natives who spontanément (that is, of their own free will) take up arms and threaten his life every moment of the day and night should be recognized as lawful opponents.
Certain requests of the manual, I fear, cannot be put in force. The identification, for instance, of the dead after a big battle. Others are subject to doubt, unless you insert "lorsque les circonstances le permettent, s'il se peut, si possible, s'il-y-a nécessité," or the like. This will give them that elasticity without which the bitter severity of actual warfare will break through all restrictions.
In war, where everything must be treated individually, only those regulations will work well which are primarily addressed to the leaders. This includes everything that your manual has to say concerning the wounded and the sick, the physicians and their medicines. The general recognition of these principles, and also of those which have to do with the prisoners of war, would mark a notable step in advance and bring us nearer the end which the Institute of International Law is pursuing with such admirable perseverance.
Very respectfully,
COUNT MOLTKE.
FIGHTING ON THE FRONTIER45
PREPARATIONS FOR WAR
The days are gone by when, for dynastical ends, small armies of professional soldiers went to war to conquer a city, or a province, and then sought winter quarters or made peace. The wars of the present day call whole nations to arms, there is scarcely a family that does not suffer by them. The entire financial resources of the State are appropriated to the purpose, and the different seasons of the year have no bearing on the unceasing progress of hostilities. As long as nations continue independent of each other there will be disagreements that can only be settled by force of arms; but, in the interest of humanity, it is to be hoped that wars will become less frequent, as they have become more terrible.
Generally speaking, it is no longer the ambition of monarchs which endangers peace; the passions of the people, its dissatisfaction with interior conditions and affairs, the strife of parties, and the intrigues of their leaders are the causes. A declaration of war, so serious in its consequences, is more easily carried by a large assembly, of which none of the members bears the sole responsibility, than by a single man, however high his position; and a peace-loving sovereign is less rare than a parliament composed of wise men. The great wars of the present day have been declared against the wish and will of the reigning powers. Now-a-days the Bourse has assumed such influence that it has the power to call armies into the field merely to protect its interests. Mexico and Egypt have been swamped with European armies simply to satisfy the demands of the haute finance. Today the question, "Is a nation strong enough to make war?" is of less importance than that, "Is its Government powerful enough to prevent war?" Thus, united Germany has, up to now, used her strength only to maintain European peace; a weak Government at the head of our neighboring State must, on the other hand, be regarded in the light of a standing menace to peace.
The war of 1870-71 arose from just such relations. A Napoleon on the throne of France was bound to establish his rights by political and military success. Only for a time did the victories won by French arms in distant countries give general satisfaction; the triumphs of the Prussian armies excited jealousy, they were regarded as arrogant, as a challenge; and the French demanded revenge for Sadowa. The liberal spirit of the epoch was opposed to the autocratic Government of the Emperor; he was forced to make concessions, his civil authority was weakened, and one fine day the nation was informed by its representatives that it desired war with Germany.
PREPARATIONS FOR THE WAR
The wars carried on by France on the other side of the ocean, simply for financial ends, had consumed immense sums and had undermined the discipline of the army. The French were by no means archiprêts for a great war, but the Spanish succession to the throne, nevertheless, had to serve as a pretext to declare it. The French Reserves were called to arms July 15th, and only four days later the French declaration of war was handed in at Berlin, as though this were an opportunity not to be lost.
One Division was ordered to the Spanish frontier as a corps of observation; only such troops as were absolutely necessary were left in Algiers and in Civita Vecchia; Paris and Lyons were sufficiently garrisoned. The entire remainder of the army: 332 battalions, 220 squadrons, 924 cannon, in all about 300,000 men, formed the army of the Rhine. This was divided into eight Corps, which, at any rate in the first instance, were to be directed by one central head, without any kind of intervention. The Imperator himself was the only person to assume this difficult task; Marshal Bazaine was to command the army as it assembled, until the Emperor's arrival.
It is very probable that the French were counting on the old dissensions of the German races. True, they dared not look upon the South Germans as allies, but they hoped to reduce them to inactivity by an early victory, or even to win them over to their side. Prussia was a powerful antagonist even when isolated, and her army more numerous than that of the French, but this advantage might be counterbalanced by rapidity of action.
The French plan of campaign was indeed based on the delivery of unforeseen attacks. The strong fleets of war and transport ships were to be utilized to land a considerable force in Northern Prussia, and there engage a part of the Prussian troops, while the main body of the army, it was supposed, would await the French attack behind the fortresses on the Rhine. The French intended to cross the Rhine at once, at and below Strassburg, thus avoiding the great fortresses; and also, at the start, preventing the South-German army, which was destined to defend the Black Forest, from uniting with the North-Germans. To execute this plan it would have been imperative to assemble the main forces of the French army in Alsace. Railway accommodation, however, was so inadequate that in the first instance it was only possible to carry 100,000 men to Strassburg; 150,000 had to leave the railways near Metz, and remain there till they could be moved up. Fifty thousand men were encamped at Châlons as reserves, 115 battalions were ready to march as soon as the National Guard had taken their places in the interior. The various corps were distributed as follows:
Imperial Guard, General Bourbaki—Nancy.
Ist Corps, Marshal MacMahon—Strassburg.
IId Corps, General Frossard—St. Avold.
IIId Corps, Marshal Bazaine—Metz.
IVth Corps, General Ladmirault—Diedenhofen.
Vth Corps, General Failly—Bitsch.
VIth Corps, Marshal Canrobert—Châlons.
VIIth Corps, General Félix Douay—Belfort.
Thus there were only two Corps in Alsace, and five on the Moselle; and, on the day of the declaration of war, one of these, the IId Corps, was pushed forward close to the German frontier, near St. Avold and Forbach. This IId Corps, however, received instructions not to engage in any serious conflict.
The regiments had marched out of quarters incomplete as to numbers, and insufficiently equipped. Meanwhile the reserves called out to fill their place had choked the railway traffic; they crowded the depôts, and filled the railway stations.
The progress to their destination was delayed, for it was often unknown at the railway stations where the regiments to which the reserves were to be sent were at the time encamped. When they at last joined they were without the most necessary articles of equipment. The Corps and Divisions had no artillery or baggage, no ambulances, and only a very insufficient number of officers. No magazines had been established beforehand, and the troops were to depend on the fortresses. These were but ill-supplied, for in the assured expectation that the armies would be almost immediately sent on into the enemy's country they had been neglected.
In the same way the Staff-officers had been provided with maps of Germany, but not of their own provinces. The Ministry of War in Paris was inundated with claims, protestations, and expostulations, and finally it was left to the troops to help themselves as best they could. On se débrouillera was the hope of the authorities.
When the Emperor arrived at Metz, a week after the declaration of war, the regiments were not yet complete, and it was not even exactly known where whole Divisions were at that time encamped. The Emperor ordered the troops to advance, but his Marshals declared that the condition of the troops made this impossible for the time being.
It was gradually dawning upon them that, instead of attacking the enemy in his country, they would have to defend their own. Rumor had it, that a strong army of the enemy had assembled between Mayence and Coblentz; instead of sending reinforcements from Metz to Strassburg, they were ordered to proceed from the Rhine to the Saar. The determination to invade South Germany was already abandoned; the fleet had sailed round, but without any troops to land.
Germany had been surprised by the declaration of war, but she was not unprepared. The possibility of such an event had been foreseen.
When Austria had separated her interests from those of the other German states, Prussia undertook the sole leadership, and paved the way to more intimate relations with the South-German states. The idea of national unification had been revived, and found an echo in the patriotic sentiments of the entire people.
The means of mobilizing the North-German army had been reviewed year by year, in view of any changes in the military or political situation, by the Staff, in conjunction with the Ministry of War. Every branch of the administration throughout the country had been kept informed of all it ought to know of these matters. The Berlin authorities had likewise come to a confidential understanding with the army chiefs of the South-German states on all important points. It had been conceded that Prussia was not to be reckoned on for the defence of any particular point, as the Black Forest, for instance; and it was decided that the best way of protecting South Germany would be by an incursion into Alsace across the central part of the Rhine; which could be backed up by the main force assembled at that point.
The fact that the Governments of Bavaria, Würtemberg, Baden, and Hesse, denuding their own countries as it were, were ready to place their contingents under the command of King William proves their entire confidence in the Prussian generals.
As soon as this understanding was arrived at the other preparations could be made. The orders for marching, and traveling by rail or boat, were worked out for each division of the army, together with the most minute directions as to their different starting points, the day and hour of departure, the duration of the journey, the refreshment stations, and place of destination. At the meeting-point cantonments were assigned to each Corps and Division, stores and magazines were established; and thus, when war was declared, it needed only the Royal signature to set the entire apparatus in motion with undisturbed precision. There was nothing to be changed in the directions originally given; it sufficed to carry out the plans prearranged and prepared.