[Footnote 229: Russia under Alexander III., by H. von Samson-Himmelstierna, Eng. ed. ch. vii.]

Parliament is an institution serving for the satisfaction of the personal ambition, vanity, and self-interest of its members. The institution of Parliament is indeed one of the greatest illustrations of human delusion. . . . On the pediment of this edifice is inscribed, "All for the public good." This is no more than a lying formula: Parliamentarism is the triumph of egoism—its highest expression. . . .

From the day that man first fell, falsehood has ruled the world—ruled it in human speech, in the practical business of life, in all its relations and institutions. But never did the Father of Lies spin such webs of falsehood of every kind as in this restless age. . . . The press is one of the falsest institutions of our time.

In the chapter "Power and Authority" the author holds up to the gaze of a weary world a refreshing vision of a benevolent despotism which will save men in spite of themselves.

Power is the depository of truth, and needs, above all things, men of truth, of clear intellects, of strong understandings, and of sincere speech, who know the limits of "yes" and "no," and never transcend them, etc[230].

[Footnote 230: Pobyedonosteff; his Reflections, Eng. ed.]

To this Muscovite Laud was now entrusted the task of drafting a manifesto in the interests of "power" and "truth."

Meanwhile the Nihilists themselves had helped on the cause of reaction. Even before the funeral of Alexander II. their executive committee had forwarded to his successor a document beseeching him to give up arbitrary power and to take the people into his confidence. While purporting to impose no conditions, the Nihilist chiefs urged him to remember that two measures were needful preliminaries to any general pacification, namely, a general amnesty of all political offenders, as being merely "executors of a hard civic duty"; and "the convocation of representatives of all the Russian people for a revision and reform of all the private laws of the State, according to the will of the nation." In order that the election of this Assembly might be a reality, the Czar was pressed to grant freedom of speech and of public meetings[231].

[Footnote 231: The whole document is printed in the Appendix to "Stepniak's" Underground Russia.]

It is difficult to say whether the Nihilists meant this document as an appeal, or whether the addition of the demand of a general amnesty was intended to anger the Czar and drive him into the arms of the reactionaries. In either case, to press for the immediate pardon of his father's murderers appeared to Alexander III. an unpardonable insult. Thenceforth between him and the revolutionaries there could be no truce. As a sop to quiet the more moderate reformers, he ordered the appointment of a Commission, including a few members of Zemstvos, and even one peasant, to inquire into the condition of public-houses and the excessive consumption of vodka. Beyond this humdrum though useful question the imperial reformer did not deign to move.

After a short truce, the revolutionaries speedily renewed their efforts against the chief officials who were told off to crush them; but it soon became clear that they had lost the good-will of the middle class. The Liberals looked on them, not merely as the murderers of the liberating Czar, but as the destroyers of the nascent constitution; and the masses looked on unmoved while five of the accomplices in the outrage of March 13 were slowly done to death. In the next year twenty-two more suspects were arrested on the same count; ten were hanged and the rest exiled to Siberia. Despite these inroads into the little band of desperadoes, the survivors compassed the murder of the Public Prosecutor as he sat in a cafe at Odessa (March 30, 1882). On the other hand, the official police were helped for a time by zealous loyalists, who formed a "Holy Band" for secretly countermining the Nihilist organisation. These amateur detectives, however, did little except appropriate large donations, arrest a few harmless travellers and no small number of the secret police force. The professionals thereupon complained to the Czar, who suppressed the "Holy Band."

The events of the years 1883 and 1884 showed that even the army, on which the Czar was bestowing every care, was permeated with Nihilism, women having by their arts won over many officers to the revolutionary cause. Poland, also, writhing with discontent under the Czar's stern despotism, was worked on with success by their emissaries; and the ardour of the Poles made the recruits especially dangerous to the authorities, ever fearful of another revolt in that unhappy land. Finally, the Czar was fain to shut himself up in nearly complete seclusion in his palace at Gatchina, near St. Petersburg, or in his winter retreat at Livadia, on the southern shores of the Crimea.

These facts are of more than personal and local importance. They powerfully affected the European polity. These were the years which saw the Bulgarian Question come to a climax; and the impotence of Russia enabled that people and their later champions to press on to a solution which would have been impossible had the Czar been free to strike as he undoubtedly willed. For the present he favoured the cause of peace upheld by his chancellor, de Giers; and in the autumn of the year 1884, as will be shown in the following chapter, he entered into a compact at Skiernewice, which virtually allotted to Bismarck the arbitration on all urgent questions in the Balkans. As late as November 1885, we find Sir Robert Morier, British ambassador at the Russian Court, writing privately and in very homely phrase to his colleague at Constantinople, Sir William White: "I am convinced Russia does not want a general war in Europe about Turkey now, and that she is really suffering from a gigantic Katzenjammer (surfeit) caused by the last war[232]." It is safe to say that Bulgaria largely owes her freedom from Russian control to the Nihilists.

[Footnote 232: Memoirs and Correspondence of Sir William White, edited by H.S. Edwards, ch. xviii.]

For the Czar the strain of prolonged warfare against unseen and desperate foes was terrible. Surrounded by sentries, shadowed by secret police, the lonely man yet persisted in governing with the assiduity and thoroughness of the great Napoleon. He tried to pry into all the affairs of his vast empire; and, as he held aloof even from his chief Ministers, he insisted that they should send to him detailed reports on all the affairs of State, foreign and domestic, military and naval, religious and agrarian. What wonder that the Nihilists persisted in their efforts, in the hope that even his giant strength must break down under the crushing burdens of toil and isolation. That he held up so long shows him to have been one of the strongest men and most persistent workers known to history. He had but one source of inspiration, religious zeal, and but one form of relaxation, the love of his devoted Empress.

It is needless to refer to the later phases of the revolutionary movement. Despite their well-laid plans, the revolutionaries gradually lost ground; and in 1892 even Stepniak confessed that they alone could not hope to overthrow the autocracy. About that time, too, their party began to split in twain, a younger group claiming that the old terrorist methods must be replaced by economic propaganda of an advanced socialistic type among the workers of the towns. For this new departure and its results we must refer our readers to the new materials brought to light by Sir D. Mackenzie Wallace in the new edition of his work Russia (1905).

Here we can point out only a few of the more general causes that contributed to the triumph of the Czar. In the first place, the difficulties in the way of common action among the proletariat of Russia are very great. Millions of peasants, scattered over vast plains, where the great struggle is ever against the forces of nature, cannot effectively combine. Students of history will observe that even where the grievances are mainly agrarian, as in the France of 1789, the first definite outbreak is wont to occur in great towns. Russia has no Paris, eager to voice the needs of the many.

Then again, the Russian peasants are rooted in customs and superstitions which cling about the Czar with strange tenacity and are proof against the reasoning of strangers. Their rising could, therefore, be very partial; besides which, the land is for the most part unsuited to the guerilla tactics that so often have favoured the cause of liberty in mountainous lands. The Czar and his officials know that the strength of their system lies in the ignorance of the peasants, in the soldierly instincts of their immense army, and in the spread of railways and telegraphs, which enables the central power to crush the beginnings of revolt. Thus the Czar's authority, resting incongruously on a faith dumb and grovelling as that of the Dark Ages, and on the latest developments of mechanical science, has been able to defy the tendencies of the age and the strivings of Russian reformers.

* * * * *

The aim of this work prescribes a survey of those events alone which have made modern States what they are to-day; but the victory of absolutism in Russia has had so enormous an influence on the modern world—not least in the warping of democracy in France—that it will be well to examine the operation of other forces which contributed to the set back of reform in that Empire, especially as they involved a change in the relations of the central power to alien races in general, and to the Grand Duchy of Finland in particular.

These forces, or ideals, may be summed up in the old Slavophil motto, "Orthodoxy, Autocracy, Nationality." These old Muscovite ideals had lent strength to Nicholas I. in his day; and his grandson now determined to appeal to the feeling of Nationality in its narrowest and strongest form. That instinct, which Mazzini looked on as the means of raising in turn all the peoples of the world to the loftier plane of Humanity, was now to be the chief motive in the propulsion of the Juggernaut car of the Russian autocracy.

The first to feel the weight of the governmental machine were the Jews. Rightly or wrongly, they were thought to be concerned in the peculations that disgraced the campaign of 1877 and in the plot for the murder of Alexander II. In quick succession the officials and the populace found out that outrages on the Jews would not be displeasing at headquarters. The secret once known, the rabble of several towns took the law into their own hands. In scores of places throughout the years 1881 and 1882, the mob plundered and fired their shops and houses, beat the wretched inmates, and in some cases killed them outright. At Elisabetgrad and Kiev the Jewish quarters were systematically pillaged and then given over to the flames. The fury reached its climax at the small town of Balta; the rabble pillaged 976 Jewish houses, and, not content with seizing all the wealth that came to hand, killed eight of the traders, besides wounding 211 others.

Doubtless these outrages were largely due to race-hatred as well as to spite on the part of the heedless, slovenly natives against the keen and grasping Hebrews. The same feelings have at times swept over Roumania, Austria, Germany, and France. Jew-baiting has appealed even to nominally enlightened peoples as a novel and profitable kind of sport; and few of its votaries have had the hypocritical effrontery to cloak their conduct under the plea of religious zeal. The movement has at bottom everywhere been a hunt after Jewish treasure, embittered by the hatred of the clown for the successful trader, of the individualist native for an alien, clannish, and successful community. In Russia religious motives may possibly have weighed with the Czar and the more ignorant and bigoted of the peasantry; but levelling and communistic ideas certainly accounted for the widespread plundering—witness the words often on the lips of the rioters: "We are breakfasting on the Jews; we shall dine on the landlords, and sup on the priests." In 1890 there appeared a ukase ordering the return of the Jews to those provinces and districts where they had been formerly allowed to settle—that is, chiefly in the South and West; and all foreign Jews were expelled from the Empire. It is believed that as many as 225,000 Jewish families left Russia in the sixteen months following[233].

[Footnote 233: Rambaud, Histoire de la Russie, ch. xxxviii.; Lowe, Alexander III. of Russia, ch. viii.; H. Frederic, The New Exodus; Professor Errera, The Russian Jews.]

The next onslaught was made against a body of Christian dissenters, the humble community known as Stundists. These God-fearing peasants had taken a German name because the founder of their sect had been converted at the Stunden, or hour-long services, of German Lutherans long settled in the south of Russia; they held a simple evangelical faith; their conduct was admittedly far better than that of the peasants, who held to the mass of customs and superstitions dignified by the name of the orthodox Greek creed; and their piety and zeal served to spread the evangelical faith, especially among the more emotional people of South Russia, known as Little Russians.

Up to the year 1878, Alexander II. refrained from persecuting them, possibly because he felt some sympathy with men who were fast raising themselves and their fellows above the old level of brutish ignorance. But in that year the Greek Church pressed him to take action. If he chastised them with whips, his son lashed them with scorpions. He saw that they were sapping the base of one of the three pillars that supported the imperial fabric—Orthodoxy, in the Russian sense. Orders went forth to stamp out the heretic pest. At once all the strength of the governmental machine was brought to bear on these non-resisting peasants. Imprisonment, exile, execution—such was their lot. Their communities, perhaps the happiest then to be found in rural Russia, were broken up, to be flung into remote corners of Transcaucasia or Siberia, and there doomed to the regime of the knout or the darkness of the mines[234]. According to present appearances the persecutors have succeeded. The evangelical faith seems to have been almost stamped out even in South Russia; and the Greek Church has regained its hold on the allegiance, if not on the beliefs and affections, of the masses.

[Footnote 234: See an article by Count Leo Tolstoy in the Contemporary Review for November 1895; also a pamphlet on "The Stundists," with Preface by Rev. J. Brown, D.D.]

To account for this fact, we must remember the immense force of tradition and custom among a simple rural folk, also that very many Russians sincerely believe that their institutions and their national creed were destined to regenerate Europe. See, they said in effect, Western Europe oscillates between papal control and free thought; its industries, with their laissez faire methods, raise the few to enormous wealth and crush the many into a new serfdom worse than the old. For all these evils Russia has a cure; her autocracy saves her from the profitless wrangling of Parliaments; her national Church sums up the beliefs and traditions of nobles and peasants; and at the base of her social system she possesses in the "Mir" a patriarchal communism against which the forces of the West will beat in vain. Looking on the Greek Church as a necessary part of the national life, they sought to wield its powers for nationalising all the races of that motley Empire. "Russia for the Russians," cried the Slavophils. "Let us be one people, with one creed. Let us reverence the Czar as head of the Church and of the State. In this unity lies our strength." However defective the argument logically, yet in the realm of sentiment, in which the Slavs live, move, and have their being, the plea passed muster. National pride was pressed into the service of the persecutors; and all dissenters, whether Roman Catholics of Poland, Lutherans of the Baltic Provinces, or Stundists of the Ukraine, felt the remorseless grinding of the State machine, while the Greek Church exalted its horn as it had not done for a century past.

Other sides of this narrowly nationalising policy were seen in the determined repression of Polish feelings, of the Germans in the Baltic provinces, and of the Armenians of Transcaucasia. Finally, remorseless pressure was brought to bear on that interesting people, the Finns. We can here refer only to the last of these topics. The Germans in the Provinces of Livonia, Courland, and Esthonia formed the majority only among the land-holding and merchant classes; and the curbing of their semi-feudal privileges wore the look of a democratic reform.

* * * * *

The case was far different with the Finns. They are a non-Aryan people, and therefore differ widely from the Swedes and Russians. For centuries they formed part of the Swedish monarchy, deriving thence in large measure their literature, civilisation, and institutions. To this day the Swedish tongue is used by about one-half of their gentry and burghers. On the annexation of Finland by Alexander I., in consequence of the Franco-Russian compact framed at Tilsit in 1807, he made to their Estates a solemn promise to respect their constitution and laws. Similar engagements have been made by his successors. Despite some attempts by Nicholas I. to shelve the constitution of the Grand Duchy, local liberties remained almost intact up to a comparatively recent time. In the year 1869 the Finns gained further guarantees of their rights. Alexander II. then ratified the laws of Finland, and caused a statement of the relations between Finland and Russia to be drawn up.

In view of the recent struggle between the Czar and the Finnish people, it may be well to give a sketch of their constitution. The sovereign governs, not as Emperor of Russia, but as Grand Duke of Finland. He delegates his administrative powers to a Senate, which is presided over by a Governor-General. This important official, as a matter of fact, has always been a Russian; his powers are, or rather were[235], shared by two sections of the Finnish Senate, each composed of ten members nominated by the Grand Duke. The Senate prepares laws and ordinances which the Grand Duke then submits to the Diet. This body consists of four Orders—nobles, clergy, burghers, and peasants. Since 1886 it has enjoyed to a limited extent the right of initiating laws. The Orders sit and vote separately. In most cases a resolution that is passed by three of them becomes law, when it has received the assent of the Grand Duke. But the assent of a majority in each of the four Orders is needed in the case of a proposal that affects the constitution of the Grand Duchy and the privileges of the Orders. In case a Bill is accepted by two Orders and is rejected by the other two, a deadlock is averted by each of the Orders appointing fifteen delegates; these sixty delegates, meeting without discussion, vote by ballot, and a bare majority carries the day. Measures are then referred to the Grand Duke, who, after consulting the Senate, gives or witholds his assent[236].

[Footnote 235: A law of the autumn of 1902 altered this. It delegated the administration to the Governor-General, assisted by the Senate.]

[Footnote 236: For the constitution of Finland and its relation to Russia, see A Precis of the Public Law of Finland, by L. Mechelin, translated by C.J. Cooke (1889); Pour la Finlande, par Jean Deck; Pour la Finlande, La Constitution du Grand Duche de Finlande (Paris, 1900). J.R. Danielsson, Finland's Union with the Russian Empire (Borga, 1891).]

A very important clause of the law of 1869 declares that "Fundamental laws can be made, altered, explained, or repealed, only on the representation of the Emperor and Grand Duke, and with the consent of all the Estates." This clause sharply marked off Finland from Russia, where the power of the Czar is theoretically unlimited. New taxes may not be imposed nor old taxes altered without the consent of the Finnish Diet; but, strange to say, the customs dues are fixed by the Government (that is, by the Grand Duke and the Senate) without the co-operation of the Diet. Despite the archaic form of its representation, the Finnish constitution (an offshoot of that of Sweden) has worked extremely well; and in regard to civil freedom and religious toleration, the Finns take their place among the most progressive communities of the world. Moreover, the constitution is no recent and artificial creation; it represents customs and beliefs that are deeply ingrained in a people who, like their Magyar kinsmen, cling firmly to the old, even while they hopefully confront the facts of the present. There was every ground for hope. Between the years 1812 and 1886 the population grew from 900,000 to 2,300,000, and the revenue from less than 7,000,000 marks (a Finnish mark = about ten pence) to 40,000,000 marks.

Possibly this prosperity prompted in the Russian bureaucracy the desire to bring the Grand Duchy closely into line with the rest of the Empire. On grounds other than constitutional, the bureaucrats had a case. They argued that while the revenue of Finland was increasing faster than that of Russia Proper, yet the Grand Duchy bore no share of the added military burdens. It voted only 17 per cent of its revenue for military defence as against 28 per cent set apart in the Russian Budget. The fact that the Swedish and Finnish languages, as well as Finnish money, were alone used on the railways of the Grand Duchy, even within a few miles of St. Petersburg, also formed a cause of complaint. When, therefore, the Slavophils began to raise a hue and cry against everything that marred the symmetry of the Empire, an anti-Finnish campaign lay in the nature of things. Historical students discovered that the constitution was the gift of the Czars, and that their goodwill had been grossly misused by the Finns. Others, who could not deny the validity of the Finnish constitution, claimed that even constitutions and laws must change with changing circumstances; that a narrow particularism was out of place in an age of railways and telegraphs; and that Finland must take its fair share in the work of national defence[237].

[Footnote 237: See for the Russian case d'Elenew, Les Pretentions des Separatistes finlandais (1895); also La Conquete de la Finlande, by K. Ordine (1889)—answered by J.R. Danielsson, op. cit.; also Russland und Finland vom russischen Standpunkte aus betrachtet, by "Sarmatus" (1903).]

Little by little Alexander III. put in force this Slavophil creed against Finland. His position as Grand Duke gave him the right of initiating laws; but he overstepped his constitutional powers by imposing various changes. In January 1890 he appointed three committees, sitting at St. Petersburg, to bring the coinage, the customs system, and the postal service of Finland into harmony with those of Russia. In June there appeared an imperial ukase assimilating the postal service of Finland to that of Russia—an illegal act which led to the resignation of the Finnish Ministers. In May 1891 the "Committee for Finnish Affairs," sitting at St. Petersburg, was abolished; and that year saw other efforts curbing the liberty of the Press, and extending the use of the Russian language in the government of the Grand Duchy.

The trenches having now been pushed forward against the outworks of Finnish freedom, an assault was prepared against the ramparts—the constitution itself. The assailants discovered in it a weak point, a lack of clearness in the clauses specifying the procedure to be followed in matters where common action had to be taken in Finland and in Russia. They saw here a chance of setting up an independent authority, which, under the guise of interpreting the constitution, could be used for its suspension and overthrow. A committee, consisting of six Russians and four Finns, was appointed at the close of the year 1892 to codify laws and take the necessary action. It sat at St. Petersburg; but the opposition of the Finnish members, backed up by the public opinion of the whole Duchy, sufficed to postpone any definite decision. Probably this time of respite was due to the reluctance felt by Alexander III. in his closing days to push matters to an extreme.

The alternating tendencies so well marked in the generations of the Romanoff rulers made themselves felt at the accession of Nicholas II. (Nov. 1, 1894). Lacking the almost animal force which carried Alexander III. so far in certain grooves, he resembles the earlier sovereigns of that name in the generous cosmopolitanism and dreamy good nature which shed an autumnal haze over their careers. Unfortunately the reforming Czars have been without the grit of the crowned Boyars, who trusted in Cossack, priest, and knout; and too often they have bent before the reactionary influences always strong at the Russian Court. To this peculiarity in the nature of Nicholas II. we may probably refer the oscillations in his Finnish policy. In the first years of his reign he gradually abated the rigour of his father's regime, and allowed greater liberty of the Press in Finland. The number of articles suppressed sank from 216 in the year 1893 to 40 in 1897[238].

[Footnote 238: Pour la Finlande, par Jean Deck, p. 36.]

The hopes aroused by this display of moderation soon vanished. Early in 1898 the appointment of General Kuropatkin to the Ministry for War for Russia foreboded evil to the Grand Duchy. The new Minister speedily counselled the exploitation of the resources of Finland for the benefit of the Empire. Already the Russian General Staff had made efforts in this direction; and now Kuropatkin, supported by the whole weight of the Slavophil party, sought to convince the Czar of the danger of leaving the Finns with a separate military organisation. A military committee, in which there was only one Finn, the Minister Procope, had for some time been sitting at St. Petersburg, and finally gained over Nicholas II. to its views. He is said to have formed his final decision during his winter stay at Livadia in the Crimea, owing to the personal intervention of Kuropatkin, and that too in face of a protest from the Finnish Minister, Procope, against the suspension by imperial ukase of a fundamental law of the Grand Duchy. The Czar must have known of the unlawfulness of the present procedure, for on November 6/18, 1894, shortly after his accession, he signed the following declaration:—

. . . We have hereby desired to confirm and ratify the religion, the fundamental laws, the rights and privileges of every class in the said Grand Duchy, in particular, and all its inhabitants high and low in general, which they, according to the constitution of this country, had enjoyed, promising to preserve the same steadfastly and in full force[239].

[Footnote 239: The Rights of Finland, p. 4 (Stockholm 1899). See too for the whole question Finland and the Tsars, 1809-1899, by J.R. Fisher (London, 2nd Edit. 1900).]

The military system of Finland having been definitely organised by the Finnish law of 1878, that statute clearly came within the scope of those "fundamental laws" which Nicholas II. had promised to uphold in full force. We can imagine, then, the astonishment which fell on the Finnish Diet and people on the presentation of the famous Imperial Manifesto of February 3/15, 1899. While expressing a desire to leave purely Finnish affairs to the consideration of the Government and Diet of the Grand Duchy, the Czar warned his Finnish subjects that there were others that could not be so treated, seeing that they were "closely bound up with the needs of the whole Empire." As the Finnish constitution pointed out no way of treating such subjects, it was needful now to complete the existing institutions of the Duchy. The Manifesto proceded as follows:—

Whilst maintaining in full force the now prevailing statutes which concern the promulgation of local laws touching exclusively the internal affairs of Finland, We have found it necessary to reserve to Ourselves the ultimate decision as to which laws come within the scope of the general legislation of the Empire. With this in view, We have with Our Royal Hand established and confirmed the fundamental statutes for the working out, revision, and promulgation of laws issued for the Empire, including the Grand Duchy of Finland, which are proclaimed simultaneously herewith[240].

[Footnote 240: The Rights of Finland, pp. 6-7 also in Pour la Finlande, par J. Deck, p. 43.]

The accompanying enactments made it clear that the Finnish Diet would thenceforth have only consultative duties in respect to any measure which seemed to the Czar to involve the interests of Russia as well as of Finland. In fact, the proposals of February 15 struck at the root of the constitution, subjecting it in all important matters to the will of the autocrat at St. Petersburg. At once the Finns saw the full extent of the calamity. They observed the following Sunday as a day of mourning; the people of Helsingfors, the capital, gathered around the statue of Alexander II., the organiser of their liberties, as a mute appeal to the generous instincts of his grandson. Everywhere, even in remote villages, solemn meetings of protest were held; but no violent act marred the impressiveness of these demonstrations attesting the surprise and grief of a loyal people.

By an almost spontaneous impulse a petition was set on foot begging the Czar to reconsider his decision. If ever a petition deserved the name "national," it was that of Finland. Towns and villages signed almost en masse. Ski-runners braved the hardships of a severe winter in the effort to reach remote villages within the Arctic Circle; and within five days (March 10-14) 529,931 names were signed, the marks of illiterates being rejected. All was in vain. The Czar refused to receive the petition, and ordered the bearers of it to return home[241].

[Footnote 241: The Rights of Finland, pp. 23-30.]

The Russian Governor-General of Finland then began a brisk campaign against the Finnish newspapers. Four were promptly suppressed, while there were forty-three cases of "suspension" in the year 1899 alone. The public administration also underwent a drastic process of russification, Finnish officials and policemen being in very many cases ousted by Muscovites. Early in the year 1901 local postage stamps gave place to those of the Empire. Above all, General Kuropatkin was able almost completely to carry out his designs against the Finnish army, the law of 1901 practically abolishing the old constitutional force and compelling Finns to serve in any part of the Empire—in defiance of the old statutes which limited their services to the Grand Duchy itself.

The later developments of this interesting question fall without the scope of this volume. We can therefore only state that the steadfast opposition of the Finns to these illegal proceedings led to still harsher treatment, and that the few concessions granted since the outbreak of the Japanese War have apparently failed to soothe the resentment aroused by the former unprovoked attacks upon the liberties of Finland.

* * * * *

One fact, which cannot fail to elicit the attention of thoughtful students of contemporary history, is the absence of able leaders in the popular struggles of the age. Whether we look at the orderly resistance of the Finns, the efforts of the Russian revolutionaries, or the fitful efforts now and again put forth by the Poles, the same discouraging symptom is everywhere apparent. More than once the hour seemed to have struck for the overthrow of the old order, but no man appeared. Other instances might of course be cited to show that the adage about the hour and the man is more picturesque than true. The democratic movements of 1848-49 went to pieces largely owing to the coyness of the requisite hero. Or rather, perhaps, we ought to say that the heroes were there, in the persons of Cavour and Garibaldi, Bismarck and Moltke; but no one was at hand to set them in the places which they filled so ably in 1858-70. Will the future see the hapless, unguided efforts of to-day championed in an equally masterful way? If so, the next generation may see strange things happen in Russia, as also elsewhere.

Two suggestions may be advanced, with all diffidence, as to the reasons for the absence of great leaders in the movements of to-day. As we noted in the chapter dealing with the suppression of the Paris Commune of 1871, the centralised Governments now have a great material advantage in dealing with local disaffection owing to their control of telegraphs, railways, and machine-guns. This fact tells with crushing force, not only at the time of popular rising, but also on the men who work to that end. Little assurance was needed in the old days to compass the overthrow of Italian Dukes and German Translucencies. To-day he would be a man of boundlessly inspiring power who could hopefully challenge Czar or Kaiser to a conflict. The other advantage which Governments possess is in the intellectual sphere. There can be no doubt that the mere size of the States and Governments of the present age exercises a deadening effect on the minds of individuals. As the vastness of London produces inertia in civic affairs, so, too, the great Empires tend to deaden the initiative and boldness of their subjects. Those priceless qualities are always seen to greatest advantage in small States like the Athens of Pericles, the England of Elizabeth, or the Geneva of Rousseau; they are stifled under the pyramidal mass of the Empire of the Czars; and as a result there is seen a respectable mediocrity, equal only to the task of organising street demonstrations and abortive mutinies. It may be that in the future some commanding genius will arise, able to free himself from the paralysing incubus, to fire the dull masses with hope, and to turn the very vastness of the governmental machine into a means of destruction. But, for that achievement, he will need the magnetism of a Mirabeau, the savagery of a Marat, and the organising powers of a Bonaparte.



CHAPTER XII

THE TRIPLE AND DUAL ALLIANCES

"International policy is a fluid element which, under certain conditions, will solidify, but, on a change of atmosphere, reverts to its original condition."—Bismarck's Reflections and Reminiscences.

It is one thing to build up a system of States: it is quite another thing to guarantee their existence. As in the life of individuals, so in that of nations, longevity is generally the result of a sound constitution, a healthy environment, and prudent conduct. That the new States of Europe possessed the first two of these requisites will be obvious to all who remember that they are co-extensive with those great limbs of Humanity, nations. Yet even so they needed protection from the intrigues of jealous dynasties and of dispossessed princes or priests, which have so often doomed promising experiments to failure. It is therefore essential to our present study to observe the means which endowed the European system with stability.

Here again the master-builder was Bismarck. As he had concentrated all the powers of his mind on the completion of German unity (with its natural counterpart in Italy), so, too, he kept them on the stretch for its preservation. For two decades his policy bestrode the continent like a Colossus. It rested on two supporting ideas. The one was the maintenance of alliance with Russia, which had brought the events of the years 1863-70 within the bounds of possibility; the other aim was the isolation of France. Subsidiary notions now and again influenced him, as in 1884 when he sought to make bad blood between Russia and England in Central Asian affairs (see Chapter XIV.), or to busy all the Powers in colonial undertakings: but these considerations were secondary to the two main motives, which at one point converged and begot a haunting fear (the realisation of which overclouded his last years) that Russia and France would unite against Germany.

In order, as he thought, to obviate for ever a renewal of the "policy of Tilsit" of the year 1807, he sought to favour the establishment of the Republic in France. In his eyes, the more Radical it was the better: and when Count von Arnim, the German ambassador at Paris, ventured to contravene his instructions in this matter, he subjected him to severe reproof and finally to disgrace. However harsh in his methods, Bismarck was undoubtedly right in substance. The main consideration was that which he set forth in his letter of December 20, 1872, to the Count:—"We want France to leave us in peace, and we have to prevent France finding an ally if she does not keep the peace. As long as France has no allies she is not dangerous to Germany." A monarchical reaction, he thought, might lead France to accord with Russia or Austria. A Republic of the type sought for by Gambetta could never achieve that task. Better, then, the red flag waving at Paris than the fleur-de-lys.

Still more important was it to bring about complete accord between the three empires. Here again the red spectre proved to be useful. Various signs seemed to point to socialism as the common enemy of them all. The doctrines of Bakunin, Herzen, and Lassalle had already begun to work threateningly in their midst, and Bismarck discreetly used this community of interest in one particular to bring about an agreement on matters purely political. In the month of September 1872 he realised one of his dearest hopes. The Czar, Alexander II., and the Austrian Emperor, Francis Joseph, visited Berlin, where they were most cordially received. At that city the chancellors of the three empires exchanged official memoranda—there seems to have been no formal treaty[242]—whereby they agreed to work together for the following purposes: the maintenance of the boundaries recently laid down, the settlement of problems arising from the Eastern Question, and the repression of revolutionary movements in Europe.

[Footnote 242: In his speech of February 19, 1878, Bismarck said, "The liaison of the three Emperors, which is habitually designated an alliance, rests on no written agreement and does not compel any one of the three Emperors to submit to the decisions of the two others."]

Such was the purport of the Three Emperors' League of 1872. There is little doubt that Bismarck had worked on the Czar, always nervous as to the growth of the Nihilist movement in Russia, in order to secure his adhesion to the first two provisions of the new compact, which certainly did not benefit Russia. The German Chancellor has since told us that, as early as the month of September 1870, he sought to form such a league, with the addition of the newly-united Italian realm, in order to safeguard the interests of monarchy against republicans and revolutionaries[243]. After the lapse of two years his wish took effect, though Italy as yet did not join the cause of order. The new league stood forth as the embodiment of autocracy and a terror to the dissatisfied, whether revengeful Gauls, Danes, or Poles, intriguing cardinals—it was the time of the "May Laws"—or excited men who waved the red flag. It was a new version of the Holy Alliance formed after Waterloo by the monarchs of the very same Powers, which, under the plea of watching against French enterprises, succeeded in bolstering up despotism on the Continent for a whole generation.

[Footnote 243: Debidour, Histoire diplomatique de l'Europe, vol. ii. pp. 458-59; Bismarck, Reflections and Reminiscences, vol. ii. ch. xxix.]

Fortunately for the cause of liberty, the new league had little of the solidity of its predecessor. Either because the dangers against which it guarded were less serious, or owing to the jealousies which strained its structure from within, signs of weakness soon appeared, and the imposing fabric was disfigured by cracks which all the plastering of diplomatists failed to conceal. An eminent Russian historian, M. Tatischeff, has recently discovered the hidden divulsive agency. It seems that, not long after the formation of the Three Emperors' League, Germany and Austria secretly formed a separate compact, whereby the former agreed eventually to secure to the latter due compensation in the Balkan Peninsula for her losses in the wars of 1859 and 1866 (Lombardy, Venetia, and the control of the German Confederation, along with Holstein)[244].

[Footnote 244: The Emperor Alexander II.: His Life and Reign, by S.S. Tatischeff (St. Petersburg, 1903), Appendix to vol. ii.]

That is, the two Central Powers in 1872 secretly agreed to take action in the way in which Austria advanced in 1877-78, when she secured Herzegovina. When and to what extent Russian diplomatists became aware of this separate agreement is not known, but their suspicion or their resentment appears to have prompted them to the unfriendly action towards Germany which they took in the year 1875. According to the Bismarck Reflections and Reminiscences, the Russian Chancellor, Prince Gortchakoff, felt so keenly jealous of the rapid rise of the German Chancellor to fame and pre-eminence as to spread "the lie" that Germany was about to fall upon France. Even the uninitiated reader might feel some surprise that the Russian Chancellor should have endangered the peace of Europe and his own credit as a statesman for so slight a motive; but it now seems that Bismarck's assertion must be looked on as a "reflection," not as a "reminiscence."

The same remark may perhaps apply to his treatment of the "affair of 1875," which largely determined the future groupings of the Powers. At that time the recovery of France from the wounds of 1870 was well nigh complete; her military and constitutional systems were taking concrete form; and in the early part of the year 1875 the Chambers decreed a large increase to the armed forces in the form of "the fourth battalions." At once the military party at Berlin took alarm, and through their chief, Moltke, pressed on the Emperor William the need of striking promptly at France. The Republic, so they argued, could not endure the strain which it now voluntarily underwent; the outcome must be war; and war at once would be the most statesmanlike and merciful course. Whether the Emperor in any way acceded to these views is not known. He is said to have more than once expressed a keen desire to end his reign in peace.

The part which Bismarck played at this crisis is also somewhat obscure. If the German Government wished to attack France, the natural plan would have been to keep that design secret until the time for action arrived. But it did not do so. Early in the month of April, von Radowitz, a man of high standing at the Court of Berlin, took occasion to speak to the French ambassador, de Gontaut-Biron, at a ball, and warned him in the most significant manner of the danger of war owing to the increase of French armaments. According to de Blowitz, the Paris correspondent of the Times (who had his information direct from the French Premier, the Duc Decazes), Germany intended to "bleed France white" by compelling her finally to pay ten milliards of francs in twenty instalments, and by keeping an army of occupation in her Eastern Departments until the last half-milliard was paid. The French ambassador also states in his account of these stirring weeks that Bismarck had mentioned to the Belgian envoy the impossibility of France keeping up armaments, the outcome of which must be war[245].

[Footnote 245: De Blowitz, Memoirs, ch. v.; An Ambassador of the Vanquished (ed. by the Duc de Broglie), pp. 180 et seq. Probably the article "Krieg in Sicht," published in the Berlin Post of April 15, 1875, was "inspired."]

As Radowitz continued in favour with Bismarck, his disclosure of German intentions seems to have been made with the Chancellor's approval; and we may explain his action as either a threat to compel France to reduce her army, a provocation to lead her to commit some indiscretion, or a means of undermining the plans of the German military party. Leaving these questions on one side, we may note that Gontaut-Biron's report to the Duc Decazes produced the utmost anxiety in official circles at Paris. The Duke took the unusual step of confiding the secret to Blowitz, showed him the document, along with other proofs of German preparations for war, and requested him to publish the chief facts in the Times. Delane, the editor of the Times, having investigated the affair, published the information on May 4. It produced an immense sensation. The Continental Press denounced it as an impudent fabrication designed to bring on war. We now know that it was substantially correct. Meanwhile Marshal MacMahon and the Duc Decazes had taken steps to solicit the help of the Czar if need arose. They despatched to St. Petersburg General Leflo, armed with proofs of the hostile designs of the German military chiefs. A perusal of them convinced Alexander II. of the seriousness of the situation; and he assured Leflo of his resolve to prevent an unprovoked attack on France. He was then about to visit his uncle, the German Emperor; and there is little doubt that his influence at Berlin helped to end the crisis.

Other influences were also at work, emanating from Queen Victoria and the British Government. It is well known that Her late Majesty wrote to the Emperor William stating that it would be "easy to prove that her fears [of a Franco-German war] were not exaggerated[246]." The source of her information is now known to have been unexceptionable. It reached our Foreign Office through the medium of German ambassadors. Such is the story imparted by Lord Odo Russell, our Ambassador at Berlin, to his brother, and by him communicated to Sir Mountstuart Grant Duff. It concerns an interview between Gortchakoff and Bismarck in which the German Chancellor inveighed against the Russian Prince for blurting out, at a State banquet held the day before, the news that he had received a letter from Queen Victoria, begging him to work in the interests of peace. Bismarck thereafter sharply upbraided Gortchakoff for this amazing indiscretion. Lord Odo Russell was present at their interview in order to support the Russian Chancellor, who parried Bismarck's attack by affecting a paternal interest in his health:—

"Come, come, my dear Bismarck, be calm. You know that I am very fond of you. I have known you since your childhood. But I do not like you when you are hysterical. Come, you are going to be hysterical. Pray be calm: come, come, my dear fellow." A short time after this interview Bismarck complained to Odo of "the preposterous folly and ignorance of the English and all other Cabinets, who had mistaken stories got up for speculations on the Bourse for the true policy of the German Government." "Then will you," asked Odo, "censure your four ambassadors who have misled us and the other Powers?" Bismarck made no reply[247].

[Footnote 246: Bismarck: his Reflections, etc., vol. ii. pp. 191-193, 249-153 (Eng. ed.); the Bismarck Jahrbuch, vol. iv. p. 35.]

[Footnote 247: Sir M. Grant Duff, Notes from a Diary, 1886-88, vol. i. p. 129. See, too, other proofs of the probability of an attack by Germany on France in Professor Geffcken's Frankreich, Russland, und der Dreibund, pp. 90 et seq.]

It seems, then, that the German Chancellor had no ground for suspicion against the Crown Princess as having informed Queen Victoria of the suggested attack on France; but thenceforth he had an intense dislike of these august ladies, and lost no opportunity of maligning them in diplomatic circles and through the medium of the Press. Yet, while nursing resentful thoughts against Queen Victoria, her daughter, and the British Ministry, the German Chancellor reserved his wrath mainly for his personal rival at St. Petersburg. The publication of Gortchakoff's circular despatch of May 10, 1875, beginning with the words, "Maintenant la paix est assuree," was in his eyes the crowning offence.

The result was the beginning of a good understanding between Russia and France, and the weakening of the Three Emperors' League[248]. That league went to pieces for a time amidst the disputes at the Berlin Congress on the Eastern Question, where Germany's support of Austria's resolve to limit the sphere of Muscovite influence robbed the Czar of prospective spoils and placed a rival Power as "sentinel on the Balkans." Further, when Germany favoured Austrian interests in the many matters of detail that came up for settlement in those States, the rage in Russian official circles knew no bounds. Newspapers like the Journal de St. Petersbourg, the Russki Mir, and the Golos, daily poured out the vials of their wrath against everything German; and that prince of publicists, Katkoff, with his coadjutor, Elie de Cyon, moved heaven and earth in the endeavour to prove that Bismarck alone had pushed Russia on to war with Turkey, and then had intervened to rob her of the fruits of victory. Amidst these clouds of invective, friendly hands were thrust forth from Paris and Moscow, and the effusive salutations of would-be statesmen marked the first beginnings of the present alliance. A Russian General—Obretchoff—went to Paris and "sounded the leading personages in Paris respecting a Franco-Russian alliance[249]."

[Footnote 248: Histoire de l'Entente franco-russe, by Elie de Cyon, ch. i. (1895).]

[Footnote 249: Our Chancellor, by M. Busch, vol. ii. pp. 137-138.]

Clearly, it was high time for the two Central Powers to draw together. There was little to hinder their rapprochement. Bismarck's clemency to the Hapsburg Power in the hour of Prussia's triumph in 1866 now bore fruit; for when Russia sent a specific demand that the Court of Berlin must cease to support Austrian interests or forfeit the friendship of Russia, the German Chancellor speedily came to an understanding with Count Andrassy in an interview at Gastein on August 27-28, 1879. At first it had reference only to a defensive alliance against an attack by Russia, Count Andrassy, then about to retire from his arduous duties, declining to extend the arrangement to an attack by another Power—obviously France. The plan of the Austro-German alliance was secretly submitted by Bismarck to the King of Bavaria, who signified his complete approval[250]. It received a warm welcome from the Hapsburg Court; and, when the secret leaked out, Bismarck had enthusiastic greetings on his journey to Vienna and thence northwards to Berlin. The reason is obvious. For the first time in modern history the centre of Europe seemed about to form a lasting compact, strong enough to impose respect on the restless extremities. That of 1813 and 1814 had aimed only at the driving of Napoleon I. from Germany. The present alliance had its roots in more abiding needs.

[Footnote 250: Bismarck: Reflections and Reminiscences, vol. ii. pp. 251-289.]

Strange to say, the chief obstacle was Kaiser Wilhelm himself. The old sovereign had very many claims on the gratitude of the German race, for his staunchness of character, singleness of aim, and homely good sense had made the triumphs of his reign possible. But the newer light of to-day reveals the limitations of his character. He never saw far ahead, and even in his survey of the present situation Prussian interests and family considerations held far too large a space. It was so now. Against the wishes of his Chancellor, he went to meet the Czar at Alexandrovo; and while the Austro-German compact took form at Gastein and Vienna, Czar and Kaiser were assuring each other of their unchanging friendship. Doubtless Alexander II. was sincere in these professions of affection for his august uncle; but Bismarck paid more heed to the fact that Russia had recently made large additions to her army, while dense clouds of her horsemen hung about the Polish border, ready to flood the Prussian plains. He saw safety only by opposing force to force. As he said to his secretary, Busch: "When we [Germany and Austria] are united, with our two million soldiers back to back, they [the Russians], with their Nihilism, will doubtless think twice before disturbing the peace." Finally the Emperor William agreed to the Austro-German compact, provided that the Czar should be informed that if he attacked Austria he would be opposed by both Powers[251].

[Footnote 251: Bismarck: Some Secret Pages of his History, by M. Busch, vol. ii. p. 404; Bismarck: Reflections and Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 268.]

It was not until November 5, 1887, that the terms of the treaty were made known, and then through the medium of the Times. The official publication did not take place until February 3, 1888, at Berlin, Vienna, and Buda-Pesth. The compact provides that if either Germany or Austria shall be attacked by Russia, each Power must assist its neighbour with all its forces. If, however, the attack shall come from any other Power, the ally is pledged merely to observe neutrality; and not until Russia enters the field is the ally bound to set its armies in motion. Obviously the second case implies an attack by France on Germany; in that case Austria would remain neutral, carefully watching the conduct of Russia. As far as is known, the treaty does not provide for joint action, or mutual support, in regard to the Eastern Question, still less in matters further afield.

In order to give pause to Russia, Bismarck even indulged in a passing flirtation with England. At the close of 1879, Lord Dufferin, then British ambassador at St. Petersburg, was passing through Berlin, and the Chancellor invited him to his estate at Varzin, and informed him that Russian overtures had been made to France through General Obretcheff, "but Chanzy [French ambassador at St. Petersburg], having reported that Russia was not ready, the French Government became less disposed than ever to embark on an adventurous policy[252]."

[Footnote 252: The Life of the Marquis of Dufferin and Ava, by Sir A. Lyall (1905), vol. i. p. 304.]

To the end of his days Bismarck maintained that the Austro-German alliance did not imply the lapse of the Three Emperors' League, but that the new compact, by making a Russian attack on Austria highly dangerous, if not impossible, helped to prolong the life of the old alliance. Obviously, however, the League was a mere "loud-sounding nothing" (to use a phrase of Metternich's) when two of its members had to unite to guard the weakest of the trio against the most aggressive. In the spirit of that statesmanlike utterance of Prince Bismarck, quoted as motto at the head of this chapter, we may say that the old Triple Alliance slowly dissolved under the influence of new atmospheric conditions. The three Emperors met for friendly intercourse in 1881, 1884, and 1885; and at or after the meeting of 1884, a Russo-German agreement was formed, by which the two Powers promised to observe a friendly neutrality in case either was attacked by a third Power. Probably the Afghan question, or Nihilism, brought Russia to accept Bismarck's advances; but when the fear of an Anglo-Russian war passed away, and the revolutionists were curbed, this agreement fell to the ground; and after the fall of Bismarck the compact was not renewed[253].

[Footnote 253: On October 24, 1896, the Hamburger Nachrichten, a paper often inspired by Bismarck, gave some information (all that is known) about this shadowy agreement.]

* * * * *

It will be well now to turn to the events which brought Italy into line with the Central Powers and thus laid the foundation of the Triple Alliance of to-day.

The complex and uninteresting annals of Italy after the completion of her unity do not concern us here. The men whose achievements had ennobled the struggle for independence passed away in quick succession after the capture of Rome for the national cause. Mazzini died in March 1872 at Pisa, mourning that united Italy was so largely the outcome of foreign help and monarchical bargainings. Garibaldi spent his last years in fulminating against the Government of Victor Emmanuel. The soldier-king himself passed away in January 1878, and his relentless opponent, Pius IX., expired a month later. The accession of Umberto I. and the election of Leo XIII. promised at first to assuage the feud between the Vatican and the Quirinal, but neither the tact of the new sovereign nor the personal suavity of the Pope brought about any real change. Italy remained a prey to the schism between Church and State. A further cause of weakness was the unfitness of many parts of the Peninsula for constitutional rule. Naples and the South were a century behind the North in all that made for civic efficiency, the taint of favouritism and corruption having spread from the governing circles to all classes of society. Clearly the time of wooing had been too short and feverish to lead up to a placid married life.

During this period of debt and disenchantment came news of a slight inflicted by the Latin sister of the North. France had seized Tunis, a land on which Italian patriots looked as theirs by reversion, whereas the exigencies of statecraft assigned it to the French. It seems that during the Congress of Berlin (June-July 1878) Bismarck and Lord Salisbury unofficially dropped suggestions that their Governments would raise no objections to the occupation of Tunis by France. According to de Blowitz, Bismarck there took an early opportunity of seeing Lord Beaconsfield and of pointing out the folly of England quarrelling with Russia, when she might arrange matters more peaceably and profitably with her. England, said he, should let Russia have Constantinople and take Egypt in exchange; "France would not prove inexorable—besides, one might give her Tunis or Syria[254]." Another Congress story is to the effect that Lord Salisbury, on hearing of the annoyance felt in France at England's control over Cyprus, said to M. Waddington at Berlin: "Do what you like with Tunis; England will raise no objections." A little later, the two Governments came to a written understanding that France might occupy Tunis at a convenient opportunity.

[Footnote 254: De Blowitz, Memoirs, ch. vi., also Busch, Our Chancellor, vol. ii. pp. 92-93.]

The seizure of Tunis by France aroused all the more annoyance in Italy owing to the manner of its accomplishment. On May 11, 1881, when a large expedition was being prepared in her southern ports, M. Barthelemy de St. Hilaire disclaimed all idea of annexation, and asserted that the sole aim of France was the chastisement of a troublesome border tribe, the Kroumirs; but on the entry of the "red breeches" into Kairwan and the collapse of the Moslem resistance, the official assurance proved to be as unsubstantial as the inroads of the Kroumirs. Despite the protests that came from Rome and Constantinople, France virtually annexed that land, though the Sultan's representative, the Bey, still retains the shadow of authority[255].

[Footnote 255: It transpired later on that Barthelemy de St. Hilaire did not know of the extent of the aims of the French military party, and that these subsequently gained the day; but this does not absolve the Cabinet and him of bad faith. Later on France fortified Bizerta, in contravention (so it is said) of an understanding with the British Government that no part of that coast should be fortified.]

In vain did King Umberto's ministers appeal to Berlin for help against France. They received the reply that the affair had been virtually settled at the time of the Berlin Congress[256]. The resentment produced by these events in Italy led to the fall of the Cairoli Ministry, which had been too credulous of French assurances; and Depretis took the helm of State. Seeing that Bismarck had confessed his share in encouraging France to take Tunis, Italy's rapprochement to Germany might seem to be unnatural. It was so. In truth, her alliance with the Central Powers was based, not on good-will to them, but on resentment against France. The Italian Nationalists saw in Austria the former oppressor, and still raised the cry of Italia irredenta for the recovery of the Italian districts of Tyrol, Istria, and Dalmatia. In January 1880, we find Bismarck writing: "Italy must not be numbered to-day among the peace-loving and conservative Powers, who must reckon with this fact. . . . We have much more ground to fear that Italy will join our adversaries than to hope that she will unite with us, seeing that we have no more inducements to offer her[257]."

[Footnote 256: Politische Geschichte der Gegenwart, for 1881, p. 176; quoted by Lowe, Life of Bismarck, vol. ii. p. 133.]

[Footnote 257: Bismarck: Some Secret Pages, etc., vol. iii. p. 291.]

This frame of mind changed after the French acquisition of Tunis.

Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes

should have been the feeling of MM. Waddington and Ferry when Bismarck encouraged them to undertake that easiest but most expensive of conquests. The nineteenth century offers, perhaps, no more successful example of Macchiavellian statecraft. The estrangement of France and Italy postponed at any rate for a whole generation, possibly for the present age, that war of revenge in which up to the spring of 1881 the French might easily have gained the help of Italy. Thenceforth they had to reckon on her hostility. The irony of the situation was enhanced by the fact that the Tunis affair, with the recriminations to which it led, served to bring to power at Paris the very man who could best have marshalled the French people against Germany.

Gambetta was the incarnation of the spirit of revenge. On more than one occasion he had abstained from taking high office in the shifting Ministries of the seventies; and it seems likely that by this calculating coyness he sought to keep his influence intact, not for the petty personal ends which have often been alleged, but rather with a view to the more effective embattling of all the national energies against Germany. Good-will to England and to the Latin peoples, hostility to the Power which had torn Elsass-Lothringen from France—such was the policy of Gambetta. He had therefore protested, though in vain, against the expedition to Tunis; and now, on his accession to power (November 9, 1881), he found Italy sullenly defiant, while he and his Radical friends could expect no help from the new autocrat of all the Russias. All hope of a war of revenge proved to be futile; and he himself fell from power on January 26, 1882[258]. The year to which he looked forward with high hopes proved to be singularly fatal to the foes of Germany. The armed intervention of Britain in Egypt turned the thoughts of Frenchmen from the Rhine to the Nile. Skobeleff, the arch enemy of all things Teutonic, passed away in the autumn; and its closing days witnessed the death of Gambetta at the hands of his mistress.

[Footnote 258: Seignobos, A Political History of Contemporary Europe, vol. i. p. 210 (Eng. Ed.).]

The resignation of Gambetta having slackened the tension between Germany and France, Bismarck displayed less desire for the alliance of Italy. Latterly, as a move in the German parliamentary game, he had coquetted with the Vatican; and as a result of this off-hand behaviour, Italy was slow in coming to accord with the Central Powers. Nevertheless, her resentment respecting Tunis overcame her annoyance at Bismarck's procedure; and on May 20, 1882, treaties were signed which bound Italy to the Central Powers for a term of five years. Their conditions have not been published, but there are good grounds for thinking that the three allies reciprocally guaranteed the possession of their present territories, agreed to resist attack on the lands of any one of them, and stipulated the amount of aid to be rendered by each in case of hostilities with France or Russia, or both Powers combined. Subsequent events would seem to show that the Roman Government gained from its northern allies no guarantee whatever for its colonial policy, or for the maintenance of the balance of power in the Mediterranean[259].

[Footnote 259: For the Triple Alliance see the Rev. des deux Mondes, May 1, 1883; also Chiala, Storia contemporanea—La Triplice e la Duplice Alleanza (1898).]

Very many Italians have sharply questioned the value of the Triple Alliance to their country. Probably, when the truth comes fully to light, it will be found that the King and his Ministers needed some solid guarantee against the schemes of the Vatican to drive the monarchy from Rome. The relations between the Vatican and the Quirinal were very strained in the year 1882; and the alliance of Italy with Austria removed all fear of the Hapsburgs acting on behalf of the Jesuits and other clerical intriguers. The annoyance with which the clerical party in Italy received the news of the alliance shows that it must have interfered with their schemes. Another explanation is that Italy actually feared an attack from France in 1882 and sought protection from the Central Powers. We may add that on the renewal of the Triple Alliance in 1891, Italy pledged herself to send two corps through Tyrol to fight the French on their eastern frontier if they attacked Germany. But it is said that that clause was omitted from the treaty on its last renewal, in 1902.

The accession of Italy to the Austro-German Alliance gave pause to Russia. The troubles with the Nihilists also indisposed Alexander III. from attempting any rash adventures, especially in concert with a democratic Republic which changed its Ministers every few months. His hatred of the Republic as the symbol of democracy equalled his distrust of it as a political kaleidoscope; and more than once he rejected the idea of a rapprochement to the western Proteus because of "the absence of any personage authorised to assume the responsibility for a treaty of alliance[260]." These were the considerations, doubtless, which led him to dismiss the warlike Ignatieff, and to entrust the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to a hard-headed diplomatist, de Giers (June 12, 1882). His policy was peaceful and decidedly opposed to the Slavophil propaganda of Katkoff, who now for a time lost favour.

[Footnote 260: Elie de Cyon, op. cit. p. 38.]

For the present, then, Germany was safe. Russia turned her energies against England and achieved the easy and profitable triumphs in Central Asia which nearly brought her to war with the British Government (see Chapter xiv.).

In the year 1884 Bismarck gained another success in bringing about the signature of a treaty of alliance between the three Empires. It was signed on March 24, 1884, at Berlin, but was not ratified until September, during a meeting of the three Emperors at Skiernewice. M. Elie de Cyon gives its terms as follows:

(1) If one of the three contracting parties makes war on a fourth Power, the other two will maintain a benevolent neutrality. (To this Bismarck sought to add a corollary, that if two of them made war on a fourth Power, the third would equally remain neutral; but the Czar is said to have rejected this, in the interests of France.) (2) In case of a conflict in the Balkan Peninsula, the three Powers shall consult their own interests; and in the case of disagreement the third Power shall give a casting vote. (A protocol added here that Austria might annex Bosnia and Herzegovina, and occupy Novi-Bazar.) (3) The former special treaties between Russia and Germany, or Russia and Austria, are annulled. (4) The three Powers will supervise the execution of the terms of the Treaty of Berlin respecting Turkey; and if the Porte allows a fourth Power (evidently England) to enter the Dardanelles, it will incur the hostility of one of the three Powers (Russia). (5) They will not oppose the union of Bulgaria and Eastern Roumelia "if it comes about by the force of circumstances"; and will not allow Turkey to fortify the Balkan Passes. Finally, by Article 6, they forbid any one of the contracting Powers to occupy the Balkan Principalities. The compact held good only for three years.

If these terms are correctly stated, the treaty was a great triumph for Austria and Germany at the expense of Russia. It is not surprising that the Czar finally broke away from the constraint imposed by the Skiernewice compact. As we have seen, his conduct towards Bulgaria in 1885-86 brought him very near to a conflict with the Central Powers. The mystery is why he ever joined them on terms so disadvantageous. The explanation would seem to be that, like the King of Italy, he felt an alliance with the "conservative" Powers of Central Europe to be some safeguard against the revolutionary elements then so strong in Russia.

In the years 1886-87 that danger became less acute, and the dictates of self-interest in foreign affairs resumed their normal sway. At the beginning of the year 1887 Katkoff regained his influence over the mind of the Czar by convincing him that the troubles in the Balkan Peninsula were fomented by the statesmen of Berlin and Vienna in order to distract his attention from Franco-German affairs. Let Russia and France join hands, said Katkoff in effect, and then Russia would have a free hand in Balkan politics and could lay down the law in European matters generally.

In France the advantage of a Russian alliance was being loudly asserted by General Boulanger—then nearing the zenith of his popularity—as also by that brilliant leader of society, Mme. Adam, and a cluster of satellites in the Press. Even de Giers bowed before the idea of the hour, and allowed the newspaper which he inspired, Le Nord, to use these remarkable words (February 20, 1887):

Henceforth Russia will watch the events on the Rhine, and relegates the Eastern Question to the second place. The interests of Russia forbid her, in case of another Franco-German war, observing the same benevolent neutrality which she previously observed. The Cabinet of St. Petersburg will in no case permit a further weakening of France. In order to keep her freedom of action for this case, Russia will avoid all conflict with Austria and England, and will allow events to take their course in Bulgaria.

Thus, early in the year 1887, the tendency towards that equilibrium of the Powers, which is the great fact of recent European history, began to exercise a sedative effect on Russian policy in Bulgaria and in Central Asia. That year saw the delimitation of the Russo-Afghan border, and the adjustment in Central Asian affairs of a balance corresponding to the equilibrium soon to be reached in European politics. That, too, was the time when Bulgaria began firmly and successfully to assert her independence and to crush every attempt at a rising on the part of her Russophil officers. This was seen after an attempt which they made at Rustchuk, when Stambuloff condemned nine of them to death. The Russian Government having recalled all its agents from Bulgaria, the task of saving these rebels devolved on the German Consuls, who were then doing duty for Russia. Their efforts were futile, and Katkoff used their failure as a means of poisoning the Czar's mind not only against Germany, but also against de Giers, who had suggested the supervision of Russian interests by German Consuls[261].

[Footnote 261: Elie de Cyon, op. cit. p. 274.]

Another incident of the spring-tide of 1887 kindled the Czar's anger against the Teutons more fiercely and with more reason. On April 20, a French police commissioner, Schnaebele, was arrested by two German agents or spies on the Alsacian border in a suspiciously brutal manner, and thrown into prison. Far from soothing the profound irritation which this affair produced in France, Bismarck poured oil upon the flames a few days later by a speech which seemed designed to extort from France a declaration of war. That, at least, was the impression produced on the mind of Alexander III., who took the unusual step of sending an autograph letter to the Emperor William I. He, in his turn, without referring the matter to Bismarck, gave orders for the instant release of Schnaebele[262]. Thus the incident closed; but the disagreeable impression which it created ended all chance of renewing the Three Emperors' League. The Skiernewice compact, which had been formed for three years, therefore came to an end.

[Footnote 262: See the Nouvelle Revue for April 15, 1890, for Cyon's version of the whole affair, which is treated with prudent brevity by Oncken, Blum, and Delbrueck.]

Already, if we may trust the imperfect information yet available, France and Russia had sought to break up the Triple Alliance. In the closing weeks of 1886 de Giers sought to entice Italy into a compact with Russia with a view to an attack on the Central States (her treaty with them expired in the month of May following), and pointed to Trieste and the Italian districts of Istria as a reward for this treachery. The French Government is also believed to have made similar overtures, holding out the Trentino (the southern part of Tyrol) as the bait. Signor Depretis, true to the policy of the Triple Alliance, repelled these offers—an act of constancy all the more creditable seeing that Bismarck had on more than one occasion shown scant regard for the interests of Italy.

Even now he did little to encourage the King's Government to renew the alliance framed in 1882. Events, however, again brought the Roman Cabinet to seek for support. The Italian enterprise in Abyssinia had long been a drain on the treasury, and the annihilation of a force by those warlike mountaineers on January 26, 1887, sent a thrill of horror through the Peninsula. The internal situation was also far from promising. The breakdown of attempts at a compromise between the monarchy and Pope Leo XIII. revealed the adamantine hostility of the Vatican to the King's Government in Rome. A prey to these discouragements, King Umberto and his advisers were willing to renew the Triple Alliance (March 1887), though on terms no more advantageous than before. Signor Depretis, the chief champion of the alliance, died in July; but Signor Crispi, who thereafter held office, proved to be no less firm in its support. After a visit to Prince Bismarck at his abode of Friedrichsruh, near Hamburg, the Italian Prime Minister came back a convinced Teutophil, and announced that Italy adhered to the Central Powers in order to assure peace to Europe.

Crispi also hinted that the naval support of England might be forthcoming if Italy were seriously threatened; and when the naval preparations at Toulon seemed to portend a raid on the ill-protected dockyard of Spezzia, British warships took up positions at Genoa in order to render help if it were needed. This incident led to a discussion in the Neue Freie Presse of Vienna, owing to a speech made by Signor Chiala at Rome. Mr. Labouchere also, on February 10, 1888, sharply questioned Sir James Fergusson in the House of Commons on the alleged understanding between England and Italy. All information, however, was refused[263].

[Footnote 263: Hansard, vol. cccxii. pp. 1180 et seq.; Chiala, La Triplice e la Duplice Alleanza, app. ii.; Mr. Stillman, Francesco Crispi (p. 177), believes in the danger to Spezzia.]

Next to nothing, then, is known on the interesting question how far the British Government went in framing an agreement with Italy, and through her, with the Triple Alliance. We can only conjecture the motives which induced the Salisbury Cabinet to make a strategic turn towards that "conservative" alliance, and yet not definitely join it. The isolation of England proved, in the sequel, to be not only a source of annoyance to the Continental Powers but of weakness to herself, because her statesmen failed to use to the full the potential advantages of their position at the middle of the see-saw. Bismarck's dislike of England was not incurable; he was never a thorough-going "colonial"; and it is probable that the adhesion of England to his league would have inaugurated a period of mutual good-will in politics, colonial policy, and commerce. The abstention of England has in the sequel led German statesmen to show all possible deference to Russia, generally at the expense of British interests.

The importance of this consideration becomes obvious when the dangers of the year 1887 are remembered. The excitement caused in Russia and France by the Rustchuk and Schnaebele affairs, the tension in Germany produced by the drastic proposals of a new Army Bill, and, above all, the prospect of the triumph of Boulangist militarism in France, kept the Continent in a state of tension for many months. In May, Katkoff nearly succeeded in persuading the Czar to dismiss de Giers and adopt a warlike policy, in the belief that a strong Cabinet was about to be formed at Paris with Boulanger as the real motive power. After a long ministerial crisis the proposed ministerial combination broke down; Boulanger was shelved, and the Czar is believed to have sharply rebuked Katkoff for his presumption[264]. This disappointment of his dearest hopes preyed on the health of that brilliant publicist and hastened his end, which occurred on August 1, 1887.

[Footnote 264: This version (the usual one) is contested by Cyon, who says that Katkoff's influence over the Czar was undermined by a mean German intrigue.]

The seed which Katkoff had sown was, however, to bring forth fruit. Despite the temporary discomfiture of the Slavophils, events tended to draw France and Russia more closely together. The formal statement of Signor Crispi that the Triple Alliance was a great and solid fact would alone have led to some counter move; and all the proofs of the instability of French politics furnished by the Grevy-Wilson scandals could not blind Russian statesmen to the need of some understanding with a great Power[265].

[Footnote 265: See the Chauvinist pamphlets, Echec et Mat a la Politique de l'Ennemi de la France, by "un Russe" (Paris, 1887); and Necessite de l'Alliance franco-russe, by P. Pader (Toulouse, 1888).]

Bismarck sought to give the needed hand-grip. In November 1887, during an interview with the Czar at Berlin, he succeeded in exposing the forgery of some documents concerning Bulgaria which had prejudiced Alexander against him. He followed up this advantage by secretly offering the Cabinet of St. Petersburg a guarantee of German support in case of an attack from Austria; but it does not appear that the Czar placed much trust in the assurance, especially when Bismarck made his rhetorical fanfare of February 6, 1888, in order to ensure the raising of a loan of 28,000,000 marks for buying munitions of war.

That speech stands forth as a landmark in European politics. In a simple, unadorned style the German Chancellor set forth the salient facts of the recent history of his land, showing how often its peace had been disturbed, and deducing the need for constant preparation in a State bordered, as Germany was, by powerful neighbours:—"The pike in the European pool prevent us from becoming carp; but we must fulfil the designs of Providence by making ourselves so strong that the pike can do no more than amuse us." He also traced the course of events which led to the treaties with Austria and Italy, and asserted that by their formation and by the recent publication of the treaty of 1882 with Austria the German Government had not sought in any way to threaten Russia. The present misunderstandings with that Power would doubtless pass away; but seeing that the Russian Press had "shown the door to an old, powerful, and effective friend, which we were, we shall not knock at it again."

Bismarck's closing words—"We Germans fear God and nothing else in the world; and it is the fear of God which makes us seek peace and ensue it"—carried the Reichstag with him, with the result that the proposals of the Government were adopted almost unanimously, and Bismarck received an overwhelming ovation from the crowd outside. These days marked the climax of the Chancellor's career and the triumph of the policy which led to the Triple Alliance.

The question, which of the two great hostile groups was the more sincere in its championship of peace principles, must remain one of the riddles of the age. Bismarck had certainly given much provocation to France in the Schnaebele affair; but in the year 1888 the chief danger to the cause of peace came from Boulanger and the Slavophils of Russia. The Chancellor, having carried through his army proposals, posed as a peacemaker; and Germany for some weeks bent all her thoughts on the struggle between life and death which made up the ninety days' reign of the Emperor Frederick III. Cyon and other French writers have laboured to prove that Bismarck's efforts to prevent his accession to the throne, on the ground that he was the victim of an incurable disease, betokened a desire for immediate war with France.

It appears, however, that the contention of the Chancellor was strictly in accord with one of the fundamental laws of the Empire. His attitude towards France throughout the later phases of the Boulanger affair was coldly "correct," while he manifested the greatest deference towards the private prejudices of the Czar when the Empress Frederick allowed the proposals of marriage between her daughter and Prince Alexander of Battenberg to be renewed. Knowing the unchangeable hatred of the Czar for the ex-Prince of Bulgaria, Bismarck used all his influence to thwart the proposal, which was defeated by the personal intervention of the present Kaiser[266]. According to our present information, then, German policy was sincerely peaceful, alike in aim and in tone, during the first six months of the year; and the piling up of armaments which then went on from the Urals to the Pyrenees may be regarded as an unconsciously ironical tribute paid by the Continental Powers to the cause of peace.

[Footnote 266: Bismarck: Some Secret Pages, etc. vol. iii. p. 335.]

* * * * *

A change came over the scene when William II. ascended the throne of Germany (June 15, 1888). At once he signalised the event by issuing a proclamation to the army, in which occurred the words: "I swear ever to remember that the eyes of my ancestors look down upon me from the other world, and that I shall one day have to render account to them of the glory and honour of the army." The navy received his salutation on that same day; and not until three days later did a proclamation go forth to his people. Men everywhere remembered that "Frederick the Noble" had first addressed his people, and then his army and navy. The inference was unavoidable that the young Kaiser meant to be a Frederick the Great rather than a "citizen Emperor," as his father had longed to be known. The world has now learnt to discount the utterances of the most impulsive of Hohenzollern rulers; but in those days, when it knew not his complex character, such an army order seemed to portend the advent of another Napoleon.

Not only France but Russia felt some alarm. True, the young Kaiser speedily paid a visit to his relative at St. Petersburg; but it soon appeared that the stolid and very reserved Alexander III. knew not what to make of the versatile personality that now controlled the policy of Central Europe. It was therefore natural that France and Russia should take precautionary measures; and we now know that these were begun in the autumn of that year.

In the first instance, they took the form of loans. A Parisian financier, M. Hoskier, Danish by descent, but French by naturalisation and sympathy, had long desired to use the resources of Paris as a means of cementing friendship, and, if possible, alliance with Russia. For some time he made financial overtures at St. Petersburg, only to find all doors closed against him by German capitalists. But in the spring of the year 1888 the Berlin Bourse had been seized by a panic at the excessive amount of Russian securities held by German houses; large sales took place, and thenceforth it seemed impossible for Russia to raise money at Berlin or Frankfurt except on very hard terms.