246
BAD-COLBERG 247
Gtitersloh-Crefeld days. They had been sent to
Colberg from Strohen, when it was broken up
about the same time as Schwarmstedt, and we were
delighted to meet them once more.
Bad-Colberg camp comprises the Kursaal, and a
" villa " about 100 yards west of it, connected
with it by a wired-in path. The villa was quite
a large building, with a garden in which four wooden
huts were erected to accommodate the overflow of
prisoners. Into these huts we went when we
arrived, and after the rigorous personal search
which was performed upon us in the baths. Some
time afterwards, when some of the officers had left
the camp to be repatriated, we were moved across to
the main building. It was electric-lighted through-
out, and things generally were more comfortable
there than any camp I had been in since Gtltersloh.
The baths were quite luxurious. Officers slept
three to eight in a bedroom, according to the size
of the rooms, which were for the most part steam-
heated, though a few, including the one I shared
with W. and the " Little Man," had coke-stoves.
Walks were granted freely, and the surrounding
country was occasionally something better than
picturesque, and abounded in wild-flowers and rare
butterflies.
But as Holzminden has shown, it is possible for
a bad man to spoil the best camp, and a stupid man
is almost as bad as a bad one. Kroner, the Com-
248 COMRADES Ix\ CAPTIVITY
mandant of Bad-Colberg, was a stupid man: In fact,
he was a credulous and obstinate old fool, the more
dangerous because he was weak, as obstinate persons
usually are, and entirely under the thumb and
intellect of his Adjutant, Captain Beetz, whom I
believe to be the worst man in Germany. He
(Beetz) was certainly responsible for the deaths of
poor M. and W., though, try as we would (and we
tried very hard), it was impossible to obtain and
produce a sufhclent stock of evidence to get him
tried for murder. But of that later.
The Germans, since they are so deadly earnest,
have legs better adapted for being pulled than any
other people in the world, and are in this respect a
very natural prey for the Irish, of which curious
people we had a good sprinkling in the camp, both
Nationalists and Ulstermen, delightful fellows all.
The Commandant was a German of Germans.
Now, since the English cannot understand the Irish,
and since for that matter the Irish cannot under-
stand themselves, it was small wonder that the stupid
Kroner should quite fail to do so. Yet the " leg-
pull " to which he fell a victim was so " kolossal,"
to use his favourite word, and so barefaced, that
everyone (Including, I think, every one of the Irish)
was a little breathless at its success. Undoubtedly
the perpetrators were aided by Kroner's conviction
that all Irishmen were really rebels pressed into the
service of England; undoubtedly (speaking German
BAD-COLBERG 249
with a brogue) they cooed like sucking-doves, con-
cealing the serpent guile within them, when they
requested to be allowed to celebrate St. Patrick's
Day, because it was a great Irish feast and anniver-
sary of the bloody Battle of the Boyne, when proud
England was beaten to her craven knees by the sword
of Erin. Whether Malachi the Brave came into
their story or not, I don't know, but anyway the
result was that, under its lying eloquence, the
Commandant of Bad-Colberg not only allowed the
feast of St. Patrick to be magnificently kept, but,
lest its celebration should fall below a style befitting
the importance of so great a victory over England,
gave permission for barrels of oysters and crates of
wine (hock, burgundy, and champagne) to be
brought into the camp, and facilities to purchase
such other incitements to rejoicing as might be
deemed in any way desirable.
On the reverse side of the printed programme
of music and events now before me for a reminder
of that improbable day, March 17, 191 8, are these
words, which are all that could conceivably be needed
to complete the full flavour of the joke: " The Irish
officers at Bad-Colberg request the pleasure of
Mr. F. W. Harvey's company at lunch, 1.30 p.m.,
and at a smoking-concert in the theatre at 7. p.m."
Such was the perfidy of the sons of Erin — to request
the pleasure of the company of those whose defeat
they had gathered together to celebrate; and if any-
250 COMRADES IN CAPTIVITY
thing else is required to demonstrate their utter
baseness, it is that at the bottom of this programme?
and in letters equally large as " erin-go-bragh,"
is printed the following inscription: " god save the
KING !"
I have heard it contended with some skill, and
demonstrated with convincing evidence such as
Bernard Shaw, that the Irish have no sense of
humour, but only a very great store of wit; and
certainly there is a great deal of difference between
these two things, for wit is' mainly intellectual,
but humour of the immortal spirit. Of course,
a man may have both (I believe Sydney Smith had,
and very certainly had Shakespeare), but that does
not alter the fundamental difference, nor the fact
that, of the two, humour is the much more desirable
gift of God.
There are people who would measure the amount
of a man's humour by the amount of laughing he
does. They should keep a hyena. Others treat it
as if it were a set of false teeth, to be kept in the
mouth all day and laid aside when there are no more
chestnuts to chew; but humour is mainly silent,
and can never be laid aside. One sees it in people's
eyes, but chiefly in their conduct towards life. I
believe that its dominating note is courage (and who
are more courageous than the Irish ?). It is a Chris-
tian thing (and Ireland is almost the last Christian
country left), founded upon faith, hope, and charity,
BAD-COLBERG 251
those three cardinal virtues of Christianity. Its
courage derives out of a sense of the final invincibility
of the soul, and comes out of a deep, though often
unconscious, belief, as well as from a certain abstrac-
tion from worldly affairs which is not far off con-
tempt for them. This misfortune, these insults,
are unpleasant, annoying to the mind and to the
body (and what a funny old thing the body is !) ;
but how grotesquely laughable they must be to the
soul ! — such is the unconscious reasoning of humour
in human life. Humour is wonderfully sane; it is
a cooling medicine for all the fevers of life. Humour
is a passionate, laughing impulse of the soul which
saves men from committing suicide by preventing
them from ever despairing. A man might commit
suicide very wittily, it might well be the wittiest
thing he ever did; but he could not do it
humorously. He might be unkind very wittily; but
not humorously. Wit is a diversion; humour an
employment. Wit is an after-dinner element;
humour a world element. Wit flashes out occa-
sionally, but best in prosperity. Humour shines
always, but most clearly in adversity. Wit is the
laughter of a full man, but humour is the laughter
of a man who is probably starving. Oh yes, there
is a great deal of difference between the two ! But
now that I have written concerning them what I
wanted to say, and have got it read, I will leave my
reader to decide for himself whether the Irish have
252 COAIRADES IN CAPTIVITY
or have not a sense of humour, for it is no business
of mine.
On the day after the feast of St. Patrick, we got
up early and walked about nine miles to Mass. It
was a trying business and needed a stern effort of
will, but the country was very lovely in the morning
light, and the shade of the pine-woods like a cool
hand laid upon brows which certainly needed it.
Afterwards, out of remembrance of my own country,
so different from this, and from Ireland, but so
equally beautiful in approaching Spring, I wrote
a poem under the title :
GLOUCESTERSHIRE FROM ABROAD.
On Dinny Hill the daffodil
Has crowned the year's returning,
The water cool in Placket Pool
Is ruffled up and burning
In little wings of fluttering fire:
And all the heart of my desire
Is now to be in Gloucestershire.
The river flows, the blossom blows
In orchards by the river:
O now to stand in that, my land,
And watch the withies shiver !
The yearning eyes of my desire
Are blinded by a twinkling fire
Of turning leaves in Gloucestershire.
The shadows fleet o'er springing wheat
Which like green water washes
The red old earth of Minsterworth,
And ripples in such flashes
As by their little harmless fire
Light the great stack of my desire
This day to be in Gloucestershire
BAD-COLBERG 253
Kroner was not the only unconsciously funny Ger-
man at Colberg. Some of the sentries were surpass-
ingly amusing. I have mentioned the butterflies
which abounded in that part of the country. Well, it
happened that there were several very keen ento-
mologists in the camp, of whom " The Little Man "
was one. These enthusiasts, later joined by others
who knew nothing of the science of entomology,
but who saw in the bug-hunting business a chance
of roaming freely about the country (and of these
was that fat little man, " Mac "), had obtained
permission to go out accompanied by a guard to
pursue the rarities which were to be found in the
vicinity of the camp. I think they flattered Kroner
into the belief that he was in some subtle way respon-
sible for their abundance, for although he never
actually said so, his whole manner suggested that he
had an interest in them akin to the Almighty's, and
could produce even greater numbers of yet rarer
specimens if only he cared to do it. (It is true that
I have sometimes noticed a similar manner in English
landowners talking of their estates.) This pro-
prietary attitude towards the butterflies was notice-
able also in the guards, but very particularly in the
old fellow who accompanied Mac. He carried the
killing bottle, and was positively angry when the
butterflies which Mac was chasing refused to come
and be transformed into " specimens " for the glory
of their country. It was gross breach of discipline
254 COMRADES IN CAPTIVITY
on the part of a German insect, and he resented it
in a delightful and characteristic expression of
feeling, which the following tale relates.
Imagine Mac (that nice fat little man) panting in
pursuit of a beautiful swallow-tail. Behind him,
carrying the bottle, galumphs the perspiring Hun.
Mac makes a slash with his net, but misses his footing
and falls headlong into a prickly bush. The guard
rushes up; the butterfly hovers exasperatingly near,
fluttering yet above the bush. Mac, picking thorns
out of himself, looks up to see his old sentry standing
impotent, but furious with rage, shaking a fat fist at
the lovely swallow-tail now fluttering away upon its
innocent airy course, and shouting " Schweinhund !"
Mac casually mentioned the whole affair to me
when he came home, but was not greatly amused
by it. As for me, I felt that something ought to be
done in immediate celebration, and for want of a
better thing I shaved off the beard which had been
my badge of mould since I grew it at Holzminden.
The story had made me feel five years younger;
but if what my friends said is true, I amply repaid
the debt, for the removal of the beard (so all averred)
took off twenty-five.
CHAPTER XXII
ANOTHER LECTURE
Bad-Colberg camp was in many ways another
Giltersloh. There was a very good tennis-court, and
besides games, walks, concerts, and theatrical enter-
tainments, they ran a good prison paper, called the
Morning Walk, because it was pinned up on the walls
of the pump-room and read by people who were
walking round. They also gave lectures and held
classes of all sorts.
Here is a paper which was read at Bad-Colberg
to some very earnest young officers by another
equally earnest, though less young, fellow-prisoner.
I believe that none of us had at that time heard
anything about the League of Nations, so it is very
interesting to see how the thought which was in
the heads of thousands of others throughout Europe
found its expression among prisoners quite cut off
from the outer world.
WAR— ITS CAUSES AND REMEDY.
To offer elaborate proof of the fact that war is
in itself, and from all sane standpoints, a cruel,
stupid, ineffectual, wasteful, and thoroughly evil
255
256 COMRADES IN CAPTIVITY
thing, is insulting to the intelligence of all men who
are not mentally deranged or morally perverted.
Yet inasmuch as writers of this kind have in the
past — and especially in the years preceding 191 4 — •
been the singers of its glory; inasmuch as some of
these writers were men of great pretension and in-
fluence, though of small importance; and inasmuch
as a thorough appreciation of the true character
of war must be the first step towards its remedy,
it has seemed worth while to devote a little time to
the matter. If a man with scarlet fever thinks
himself a hero and admires the spots, he is less likely
to be cured than if he knows himself to be suffering
from a disease. War is the scarlet fever of the world,
and the world will not be cured until it realizes
its disease and seeks a remedy.
To gentlemen like yourselves, fresh from the
study of economics, it is surely unnecessary to do
more than outline the economic disadvantages of
war. War is economically evil because —
1. It reduces to an absolute standstill the pro-
duction of all articles of value above the minimum
required for the sustenance of those engaged in the
war.
2. It misdirects the self-denial (/.<?., capital) of
past generations, and stops the accumulation of
present capital.
3. It destroys " the labourer."
4. It misdirects invention from positive and con-
ANOTHER LECTURE 257
structive channels into negative and destructive
channels.
5. It impedes exchange. Economically its total
effect is, therefore, not less than absolutely disas-
trous. I do not apologize for these somewhat bald
statements, both because I am addressing students
in economy and also because such statements can,
if necessary, be elaborated in the general discussion
which follows the reading of this paper. Subse-
quent generalizations must be excused on the same
grounds; otherwise the paper would be unduly long.
Politically it sometimes brings emancipation to
small communities of whom the belligerents are
afraid, and whom they wish temporarily to pro-
pitiate; but its effect in general is to hang up useful
measures of reform, to place power in other hands
than the State's, and to fetter national and individual
freedom. The few gain, the many lose.
Socially it disorganizes society and destroys the
citizen which goes to make it. It is not merely
a return to the Dark Ages, it is worse than that, for,
by selecting the best citizens for annihilation, it
makes for the survival of the unfittest. Take the
present war : the first men to be used were all volun-
teers, and of these the best were first selected. The
best of the remainder were then conscripted, also
in the order of their fitness. The remnant will be
our future bridegrooms and legislators. But, it
may be objected, will not the young men who have
253 COMRADES IN CAPTIVITY
served return home fitter than they were before ?
Well, putting aside those who have been killed, those
who have been maimed, and others shattered in
health, they probably will; but one would hesitate
to advise one's dearest enemy to join a class of
physical ciilture the result of which was to kill, or
maim, say, ten per cent ! And one would hesitate
to advise any country to sink six millions a day in
such a sanatorium. War as a health restorer is an
idea which will not hold water — there are so many
better and cheaper. The societies which take poor
children from the cities into the fields and sunshine
have done more for national fitness than the longest
of our bloody wars, and have done it much more
cheaply.
Judicially — that is, as a means of settling the
disputes of nations — it is simply ridiculous. It is
everything that justice should not be; slow beyond
words, costly beyond dreams, and (since the wrong
party is as likely as not to win) totally ineffectual.
It is founded upon a principle abhorrent to all civil-
ized law, the principle that " might shall be right."
Morally it is indefensible; but so much nonsense
has been talked, taught, and preached on this point
that it will be well to go into the matter a little
more fully. " War, the beneficent mother of
virtues," is a famous phrase that is familiar in the
cars of most of us. Beneficent mother ! Hunger,
wounds, and hate are her children. She is gar-
ANOTHER LECTURE 259
landed with the stinking weeds of death. At her
bloody skirts cling the pretty dancing joys of arson,
pillage, and rape. Picturesque in her train is the
lamb of servility led by " Folly in Power," and danc-
ing before her go her darling triplets whose names
are " Famine, Fear, and Ferocity."
But does not war bring to light many acts of
heroism, endurance, and self-sacrifice ? It does.
So does the sinking of a great liner. So does a serious
railway accident. So does an explosion in a coal-
mine. So does any great fire in a theatre. On that
argument let us do away with compasses, let us
forbid sobriety in engine-drivers, let us repeal the
mining Acts, and do away with fire-curtains, and have
such ennobling disasters at least once a month. It
will be cheaper, and if it kills the heroes which it
produces it will do so less frequently than war.
Or, as an alternative to any of these things, let us
sweep away the sentimental lies of the moral sup-
porters of war and get back to cold fact. Analysis
of our subject, and recapitulation of headings, shall
bring to a conclusion this preliminary portion of
our paper.
If one man kills another in dispute he is called a
murderer. The act is labelled as crime by the
State and sin by the Church. Such deeds are sup-
pressed by the whole community. They discourage
such conduct by education, moral influences, and
grave penalty. Now if a million men kill a million
26o COMRADES IN CAPTIVITY
men, what happens ? They are called soldiers.
The act is labelled " service " by the State, and
receives the Church's blessing.
To suppress such deeds there is no machinery.
That which is considered wrong in the individual
is considered right in the nation. What is a nation ?
It is a collection of individuals.
Is murder carried out by a nation less ferocious
in its execution than that which is done by a single
man ? The reverse is the truth. Backed by every
scientific discovery and ingenious device, it is in
effect more protracted and cruel a device of murder
than any yet devised by a single brain.
Is collective murder less disastrous than murder
by the individual ? On the contrary it is incalcul-
ably more disastrous. Is the successful State ever
in the position of an undetected murderer who has
become the possessor of his victim's goods ? No,
in this case the victim's goods have generally been
destroyed in the process, or bartered away for
weapons.
Merely from a business point of view, therefore,
the murder is not nearly so successful. Moreover,
the process of collective murder is so long that,
owing to productive energy having become des-
tructive, the whole world is impoverished.
Thus, from a material point of view war is
collective loss. Morally it is collective miu-der.
Judicially it is ridiculous. Socially it is disastrous^
ANOTHER LECTURE 261
Politically it is retrogressive. Economically it is
an unmixed evil. Why, then, is it ever engaged in?
The first and best reason why a nation goes to war
is because it has been attacked by another nation.
This reason (being the best) is the one which bel-
ligerent nations most wish to claim, and they will
go to almost any lengths in order to prove their
case.
Yet even this best of reasons is not necessarily
a good one. To admit this would be to admit
that the defendant in a lawsuit should always have
judgment given in his favour. But it may happen
with nations as with men that the defendant has
injured the plaintiff and is in the wrong. In this
case the only right course, as well as the only wise
one, is to settle the matter out of court rather than
to fight it to a finish. The lawyer will advise this
if he is an honest man, and the client will agree if
he is a sensible man. In the event — cynical persons
will say the probability — of the lawyer not being
an honest man, and of his acting in a manner con-
trary to his client's interest, he should be replaced
by one who is.
Now, substitute " politician " for " lawyer,"
and " nation " for " client," and you have a parallel
which, in these days, is the more perfect because
" politician " and " lawyer " are practically synony-
mous. The glaring difference is simply that the
politician, who is paid by the nation exactly as the
18
262 COMRADES IN CAPTIVITY
lawyer is paid by the individual, is, nevertheless,
allowed powers and privileges which the most lenient
client would gasp to hear suggested.
Imagine a man permitting his lawyer the power of
pledging him in honour and possessions, and even life
itself, to a cause or alliance the result of which may
be the loss of all three, but which, whether he
approve it or not, is to be kept a secret. This thing
— unthinkable to the individual — is permitted by all
modern nations under the name of " Secret Diplo-
macy."
Whether " Secret Diplomacy " is a thing capable
of remedy is a matter which will be discussed in a
later portion of this paper. It is here sufficient to
place it amongst the causes of war, since by that
agency a nation pledges itself to fight in a cause,
and imder conditions, kept secret, and therefore
not approved or authorized by the people pledged.
They must " pay the piper " though they may not
*' call the tune."
Apropos of the present war, here is an extract
from a book on its diplomacy, written by an American
at a time when America was neutral.* " The whole
tangle of recent diplomacy has been immensely
complicated by secrecy. Very few of the men who
are now fighting so desperately throughout the
length and breadth of Europe realized during these
years of tension " (he is speaking of the years 1906-
* *' The Diplomacy of The Gr«at War," by Arthur Bullard.
ANOTHER LECTURE 263
1 914) " how little they knew of what their Govern-
ments — and often inner circles of their Govern-
ments — were doing in their name. . . . And when
at last war broke out, three members of the British
Cabinet resigned — committed political suicide in
the face of a popular war — because they were
horrified and surprised to discover where Sir Edward
Grey and the inner circle of the ministry had
brought the nation. And if Cabinet members did
not know what the Secretary of State for Foreign
Affairs was doing, it is evident that the people at
large were led — perhaps wisely, but certainly blindly
— ^like sheep to the slaughter." That the case was
not different in this country is evident by the
newspaper agitation for " open diplomacy," which
occasionally breaks out in spite of strong official
control, and which recent events — the Clemenceau-
Czernin revelations — have again made audible.
Such are the facts which need not be elaborated*
" Secret Diplomacy " will reappear in the specula-
tive portion of this paper which concerns itself
with the remedies for war.
That large armaments are in themselves a cause
of war is a truth which has long been recognized,
and in 191 1 an attempt was made to reduce armies
to the status of police for the maintenance of law
and order, and to substitute for war a court of inter-
national arbitration. The proposal was put for-
ward by President Taft, U.S.A., and I was present
264 COMRADES IN CAPTIVITY
when Sir Edward Grey replied in the House of
Commons. " Bleeding to death in times of peace "
was the phrase which he used to describe the state
of European nations then spending vast sums of
money on increased armaments. The way to reform
was, he said, then blocked by one great European
Power — which he would not name, but which had
absolutely refused to countenance such a scheme.
We are not at present dealing with remedies.
It is needful only to state that a great army or a
great navy, created and kept up at enormous ex-
pense, is made for one end. It is made to be used;
The temptation to use it is always present. Unused
it is wasted. And sooner or later, when " bluff "
has extracted the last ounce of gain, it will go into
action.
How a machine can influence and at last over-