Kitabı oku: «The Old World and Its Ways», sayfa 35

In the center of the rotunda, beneath the frescoed vault of the great dome, is a circular crypt. Leaning over the heavy marble balustrade I gazed on the massive sarcophagus below which contains all that was mortal of that marvelous combination of intellect and will.

The sarcophagus is made of dark red porphyry, a fitly chosen stone that might have been colored by the mingling of the intoxicating wine of ambition with the blood spilled to satisfy it.

Looking down upon the sarcophagus and the stands of tattered battle flags that surround it, I reviewed the tragic career of this grand master of the art of slaughter, and weighed, as best I could, the claims made for him by his friends. And then I found myself wondering what the harvest might have been had Napoleon's genius led him along peaceful paths, had the soil of Europe been stirred by the plowshare rather than by his trenchant blade, and the reaping done by implements less destructive than his shot and shell.

Just beyond and above the entombed emperor stands a cross upon which hangs a life-size figure of the Christ, flooded by a mellow lemon-colored light, which pours through the stained glass windows of the chapel.

I know not whether it was by accident or design that this god of war thus sleeps, as it were, at the very feet of the Prince of Peace.

Whether so intended or not, it will, to those who accept the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount, symbolize love's final victory over force and the triumph of that philosophy which finds happiness in helpful service and glory in doing good.

CHAPTER LI.
THE REPUBLIC OF SWITZERLAND

No wonder Switzerland is free. The beauty of the country inspires a love of native land and the mountains form a natural fortress behind which the Swiss people could withstand armies many times the size of their own. Nowhere can one find as great a variety of landscape in a day's ride by train as in Switzerland. The road from Berne via Chiasso, on the Italian border, to Italy, passes along the shores of lakes whose transparent waters reflect the precipitous rocks that overhang them; by mountain streams that dash and foam madly as if anxious to escape from the solitude of the hills into the companionship of the larger waters of lake and sea, across the gorges, around the foothills and through the nine-mile tunnel of St. Gothard, which pierces the mountain a mile beneath the summit, and then down into the valleys that widen out from the base of the Alps. The day's enthralling ride reminds one of a cinematographic film, so quickly do the views change and so different is each from the other. Along the lower levels are tiny farms and vineyards, a little higher up are terraced pastures and quaint farm houses, with gabled roofs – often residence and barn are under the same roof! The mountain sides are scarred with chutes down which the peasants drag timber on the snow. One passes through a great variety of climate in descending from the City of Mexico to Vera Cruz, but there one does not see such a succession of picturesque views as greets the eye in the ride across the Alps.

One would suppose that the people of Switzerland could find ample employment in supplying the wants of those who temporarily visit their land, but to the industry of hotelkeeping are added two that have made Switzerland famous throughout the world – watchmaking and wood carving. While watches are manufactured as well and as cheaply in the United States as in Switzerland, this industry is one that makes its presence known in every city of this mountain republic. The genius of the Swiss for wood carving manifests itself in innumerable ways. The cuckoo clock and the bear – the symbol of Switzerland, as the eagle is of the United States – are seen in shop windows everywhere; the bear in innumerable postures, the clock in innumerable sizes. At Berne I found some wooden nut-crackers formed to resemble a head, the lower jaw working as a lever and crushing the nut against the upper jaw. I observed one nut-cracker made to resemble President Roosevelt, and another former Colonial Secretary Chamberlain of England. I presume that the manufacturer intended to suggest that these two statesmen have more nuts to crack just now than any other men of political prominence!

More interesting, however, than its scenery or its industries is the government of Switzerland. It is the most democratic government on the face of the earth, if the word democratic is taken to mean the rule of the people, for in Switzerland the people rule more completely than anywhere else. In some of the small cantons the people meet at stated times and act upon political matters in public meeting, recalling the old town hall meeting of New England. In all the cantons and in the federal government they have the initiative and referendum. The latter has been in use since 1874; the former has been adopted more recently.

From the courteous assistant secretary of state I learned that during the last twenty-nine years 235 federal laws have been submitted to the people by means of the referendum, of which 210 were adopted and twenty-five rejected. The total voting population of Switzerland is about 768,000, and it requires a petition signed by 30,000 – less than 5 per cent of the voting population – to secure a referendum vote on any bill. Fifty thousand voters can petition for the enactment of any desired law, and when such a petition is filed the federal legislature can either pass the law or refuse to pass it. If it refuses, however, its action must be passed upon by a referendum vote. Since the existence of this provision six petitions have been presented, and in every case the legislature refused to pass the law demanded by the petitioners. In five cases the people at the referendum vote sustained the legislature; in one case the action of the legislature was overruled by the voters. In this instance the people had petitioned for the passage of a law that would prevent the slaughter of animals for food until after they had been rendered insensible.

I found that the Swiss people are so pleased with the popular control over government, given them by the initiative and referendum, that there is no possibility that any party will attempt to attack it, although there are some that would prefer the representative system freed from the restraint which the initiative and referendum give. Their arguments are, first, that the legislators knowing that the people can initiate legislation feel less responsibility; and, second, that as the legislators' actions can be reviewed by the people, the legislators are more timid about introducing needed reforms. The friends of the initiative and referendum meet these arguments by declaring that the legislators are really not relieved from responsibility, but on the other hand are incited to action by the fact that the people can act in the event that their interests are neglected by the legislature and that the timidity suggested is only likely to prevent legislation when the legislators themselves doubt the merit of the proposed action.

By courtesy of the American minister, Mr. Hill, I had the honor of meeting Dr. Adolphe Deucher, "president of the Swiss confederation," as he is styled. He is of German blood, as his name would indicate, and he is a fine representative of the scholarly, big-hearted Teuton. He is a tall, slender man, of about 60, with a ruddy face, white mustache and scanty white hair. He speaks with frankness and conviction and is as simple in his manners as the humblest of his people. He has been president once before, and has represented his canton in the federal legislature. He lives very unostentatiously, as becomes an official whose salary is only $2,750 a year. He receives $250 a year more than his colleagues in the federal council. Switzerland has no executive mansion and the president lives in a modest hotel.

Three languages are spoken in Switzerland – French, German, Italian. French prevails in the region about Geneva, German in and north of Berne and Italian at the southeast near the Italian border. German is, perhaps, dominant, if any one tongue can be said to dominate, with French and Italian following in the order named. The debates in the federal legislature are conducted in the three tongues, and are reported therein officially. No attempt is made to interfere with the teaching of the language that each of the three communities desires, the cantons being independent in matters of local legislation, just as are the states in our country. There seems to be no jealousy or enmity between the different sections except to the extent of a healthful rivalry between them. The feeling of independence, however, is so strong that no federal government could exist without a clear recognition of the rights of the component states or cantons.

As a nation, Switzerland, with her five million people, does not attract the attention that neighboring nations do, and in a contest at arms, except upon her own soil, she could not hope to achieve much, but in that high form where conscience dictates and where reason rules she is a conspicuous member of the sisterhood of nations. If we believe the world to be making progress toward nobler national ideals, we may expect Switzerland to occupy a position of increasing importance, for the love of liberty that characterizes her people, the democratic character of her institutions and the industry of her citizens all combine to give her assurance of increasing prestige.

I cannot refrain here from giving expression to a thought that has grown upon me since my arrival in Europe. I found our ambassador to England, Mr. Choate, preparing to leave his residence in Carlton House Terrace, London, because of the prospective return of its owner, Lord Curzon, from India. I learned that our ambassadors to France have often found difficulty in finding suitable houses in Paris, while I found that our minister to Switzerland, Mr. Hill, is living in Geneva because he has not been able thus far to find a residence in Berne, the capital. I was also informed that our ambassador to Italy, Mr. Meyer, was compelled to live in a hotel in Rome for a year after his appointment, because he was unable to find a suitable house for the embassy. The trials of our diplomatic representatives in Europe, together with the high rents they are compelled to pay for their residences, have convinced me that we as a people are at fault in not providing permanent and appropriate domiciles for our ambassadors and ministers at foreign capitals. In the great cities of Europe it is not only impossible to rent at a moderate price a house suitable for our embassy, but it is often difficult to secure a convenient location at any price. It is scarcely democratic to place upon an official an expense so great as to preclude the appointment of a man of moderate means; nor does it comport with the dignity of our nation to make the choice of an ambassadorial or ministerial residence dependent upon chance and circumstance. I have been pleased to observe that our representatives in Europe are conspicuous in the diplomatic circle at court functions because of their modest attire, but it is not necessary that our ambassadors' and ministers' homes should be on wheels in order to be democratic. I believe that our government ought to inaugurate a new policy in this matter and build up in the chief capitals of foreign nations on land convenient to the foreign office buildings suitable in every way for the residences and offices of our diplomatic representatives. Such buildings constructed according to a characteristic American style of architecture and furnished like an American home would not only give to our representative a fixed habitation, but would exhibit to the people of the country in which he is accredited the American manner of living. The records of the embassy could be kept more safely in permanent quarters.

As real estate in all the capitals of Europe is rapidly rising in value, land purchased now would become a profitable investment and the rent estimated on the purchase price would be a great deal less than will have to be paid twenty or fifty years from now for a suitable site and buildings conveniently located. It is not wise to confine our diplomatic representation to the circle of the wealthy, and it is much better to furnish our ambassadors and ministers with residences than to increase their salaries.

CHAPTER LII.
THREE LITTLE KINGDOMS

I shall treat in this article of my visit to three little kingdoms in the north of Europe – Denmark, Belgium and The Netherlands.

I passed through the edge of Sweden on my way from Berlin to Copenhagen and was at Malmo a short time; but, as it was Christmas day and early in the morning, few stores were open, and I did not have an opportunity to see many people. I had intended to visit Stockholm, the capital of Sweden, but a day's delay in Russia deprived me of that pleasure.

Copenhagen is not only the capital of Denmark, but its commercial metropolis as well. The city has the air of a seaport. The canal leading from the harbor up to the center of the town was crowded with boats which had taken up their winter quarters, and the multitude of masts told of the numbers of those who live upon the ocean.

Denmark is a densely populated country composed of the Jutland peninsula and a number of islands. The land is for the most part level and not much above the sea. The farmers of Denmark have distinguished themselves in several departments of agriculture, especially in butter-making – Danish butter commanding the highest price in London and other large markets.

Copenhagen has some very substantial buildings and an art gallery in which the works of Thorwaldsen, the sculptor, occupy the chief place.

The people of Denmark, while living under an hereditary monarch, have a written constitution, and parliament is the controlling influence in the government. Until recently, the sovereign insisted upon selecting his cabinet ministers to suit himself; but, about three years ago, he yielded to the demand of parliament that the dominant party in that body be permitted to furnish the king's advisers. The change has proven so satisfactory that perfect harmony now exists between the royal family and the legislative body.

King Christian is advanced in years and is so beloved by his people that he goes among them without attendants or guards.

The heir to the throne of Denmark, Prince Frederick, upon whom, by the courtesy of the American minister, Mr. Swensen, I was able to call on Christmas afternoon, is very democratic in his manner, and very cordial in his friendship for America.

If marrying daughters to crowned heads is a test, the late Queen of Denmark was a very successful mother. One of her daughters is mother of the present emperor of Russia, another is wife of the present king of England, and a third is married to one of the smaller kings of Germany. A son, it may be added, is king of Greece.

I had the pleasure of meeting the prime minister and also Professor Matzen, the president of the state university and Denmark's member of The Hague tribunal. He was one of the leading opponents of the transfer of the Danish islands to the United States.

I learned while in Denmark that one of the chief reasons for the opposition to the sale of the Danish islands to the United States was the fact that the United States did not guarantee full citizenship to the inhabitants of those islands. The nation's conduct elsewhere prevented this. Our refusal to give the Porto Ricans and the Filipinos the protection of the constitution is largely to blame for the loss of the Danish islands to our country.

The Danish officials whom I met were deeply interested in the United States, and naturally so, for, like Sweden and Norway, Denmark has sent many sons and daughters to the United States; and these, as have the Swedes and Norwegians, have deported themselves so well as to establish close ties between the mother countries and their adopted land.

CHAPTER LIII.
BELGIUM

Belgium is a busy hive. Its people are crowded together and are very industrious. The farmers and truck gardeners have reduced agriculture to a fine art and the lace workers are famous for their skill.

Nowhere did I see man's faithful friend, the dog, utilized as in Belgium. He helps to haul the carts along the streets, and his services are so highly prized that large dogs are untaxed, while the small house dog, being an idler, has to contribute his annual quota to the expenses of the government.

The elegance of some of the public buildings and the beauty of the streets of Brussels surprise one, if he has allowed himself to judge Belgium by her dimensions on the map. Historical interest, however, is centered, not in Brussels, but in the battlefield of Waterloo, some miles away. In the summer time, thousands of tourists (among whom, according to the guides, are but few Frenchmen) turn their steps toward this field which witnessed the overthrow of the greatest military genius of his generation, if not of all time.

The scene of carnage is now marked by an enormous artificial mound 130 feet in height and surmounted by an immense stone lion – the Lion of Waterloo. The animal looks toward the point from which Napoleon made his last charge and seems to be watching lest the attack may be renewed. Wellington, upon visiting the battlefield after the erection of this mound, is said to have complained that they had ruined the battlefield to secure dirt for this stupendous pile, and it is true that the surface of the earth in that vicinity has been very much altered. In leveling the knolls they have destroyed one of the most interesting landmarks of the battlefield – the sunken road in which so many of the French soldiers lost their lives. As the guide tells it, Napoleon asked a Belgian peasant if there was any ravine to be crossed between him and the enemy's lines, and the peasant replied in the negative; but when the French rushed over this knoll, they came suddenly and unexpectedly upon a narrow road in a cut about twenty feet deep, and, falling in, filled up the cut until succeeding ranks crossed over on their dead bodies.

The field, as a whole, might be described as a rolling prairie, although the visitor is told of groves no longer standing. At the Hugomond farm, the walls of the house bear evidence of the conflict that raged nearly a century ago, and one is shown the ruins of an old well in which, it is said, the bodies of 300 English soldiers were buried. This portion of the battlefield reminds one somewhat of that portion of the battlefield of Gettysburg which was made famous by Pickett's charge, although there are but few monuments at Waterloo to mark the places occupied by the various brigades and divisions.

At a restaurant near the mound one is shown the chair in which, according to tradition, Wellington sat when he was laying his plans for the last day's battle, and you can, for a franc each, secure bullets warranted to have been found upon the field. It is rumored, however, that some of the bullets now found are of modern make and that thrifty peasants sow them as they do grain, and gather them for the benefit of tourists.

I found Europe agitated by a remark recently made by the emperor of Germany which gave the Prussian troops credit for saving the English and winning the day, but the French are as quick to dispute this claim as the English. The comedians have taken the matter up in the British Isles, and, at one London theatre, an actor dressed as an Englishman, is made to meet a German and, after an exchange of compliments, the English brings down the house by saying: "I beg pardon! It may be a little late, but let me thank you for saving us at Waterloo."

It is hardly worth while for the allies to quarrel over the division of credit. There was glory enough for all – and it required the co-operation of all to overcome the genius and the strategy of Bonaparte.