D AYL ALAS! I AM A PRUSSIAN As Owen Wister has so vividly depicted it as "The Tragedy of Germany" in "The Pentecost of Calamity," so has the author of this book rendered a terrible indictment. The Hate that has begotten Hate is pathetically portrayed in this soliloquy of a despairing soul. It is one of the most sensational and, at the same time, one of the most remarkable contributions to the utterances on the future of the German Empire that has yet been made> O judgment! Thou art fled to brutish becsts, And men have lost their reason! — Shakespeare, Book X ^.^ Copyright]^'! ^m CDFmiGHT DEPOSm mag! 3 am a Ji^ttsfsiian O judgment ! Thou art fled to brutish beasts^ And men have lost their reason! — Shakespeare. Alas! 3 am a f russtan THE SOLILOQUY OF A GERMAN IN AMERICA J. A.J.TIBBALS NEW YORK M C M X V I J]526 ■ Z Copyright, 1916 by J. A. J. TIBBALS DEC Printed in the United States of America Published November, 1916 DCI.A445894 CD S urn n Pntsstan I see about me naught but hatred, Scorn, distrust and fear. Where, yesterday, I held my head erect. Enjoying high esteem And conscious of my standing with mankind, To-day I turn it sadly from the throng. Beloved by none save them of my own blood, A blood now being freely shed, alas, With little credit to my native land. The finger of contempt is levelled straight At me, from every compass point, Because I am of those who send a thrill Each hour, of day and night. Throughout a mirthless world. At some new hideous act. Done for the sake of a decaying dynasty. [7] aiasi! 3 am a ^rusfsJian And since, by accident of birth, I am of them who throttled Truth; Threw Honor to the swine, My every step betrays the tightening coil Of human execration to my soul, The narrowing circle within which I move. I cannot see a mother and her babe Without there coming to my blurring eyes The mirrored picture of the Innocents, Done to their death By Prussia's ruthless hand. In vain I dwell upon the wond'rous Fame That was my country's rightful heritage; So great on land, such gallantry at sea. First, always, when a dread catastrophe Demanded succor. For that, brave hearts Of that brave land were ever to be found. Her economic worth; her splendid rise Above all other nations in the care And conservation of the home; Her schools, than which none in the world [8] la?! 3 am a ^rujssfian Had higher acclaim; In guarding Youth and, most of all, Those still of tender years, My country stood supreme. Contentment was the password of the land; Enlightenment the key to Prussia's soul. I dare not read her Fame of days gone by, For it doth make her Infamy the worse. The thrust at peaceful hearths From starry skies; those homes Already robbed of half their brood Through War's stern call — A war that Prussia made. For Prussia must needs, too, destroy The homes of those who. Through her treachery, were lost! Again, the furtive blow from watery depths, Defying God, destroying where He spared ! Without a warning, like a Monstrous Thing, Engulfing those whose very helplessness Cause for their preservation ;[9] ^lajS! 3 am a ^xn^siian Should have been. Of such a nation am I forced to speak As my own land. The land my fathers loved. Ah, surely, they — my forebears — Never dreamed That Prussia would retrace her steps, Drop all advancement in a savage lust To subjugate the world with brutish force. I find that even Woman turns from me As from a snake, Unless the Prussian blood Flows through her veins. In that event she lacks the milk Of human kindness of her sex. For Prussia has destroyed The glorious faith of Woman In the chivalry of Man. It is a dreadful thing to see the end Of all the hopes the future held for me. I dreamt of honor and awoke to shame [10] 0las(! 3 am a ^xu^siiun And loathing, toOp From those I held as friends, Myself I had not part in this affair Which both the Hemispheres has thus upset. I shudder at the thought of murder done In Heavenly name. It is a sacrilege Which, on the Judgment Day, Will be recalled. Yet am I scorned for what my brothers did, Detested for the knavery of my kin. An outcast among nations — that is mine! The fire of admiration that once glowed, Has now become Suspicion's smouldering pile. As mighty King, became a Peon low, So fell to earth great Prussia's mighty star. 'Tis uber alles — Yes! Despair and Pain; Grim Death is on the ensign of my land. Of sympathy, alas, for me there's none, Since Prussia has not granted sympathy; Nor may I claim a confidence and trust [11] SlajEi! 3 am a l^tn^^ian Where Prussia, like a wanton, Smothered both ! Am I a scientist, no fame is mine; My science breeds but misery, they claim. A farmer? Even then am I denied; For Prussia's farms Raise soldiers, guns and shot. And do I print? My type is made to lie Most grievously about my enemies. No noble thought can possibly be mine, A dark design behind my every deed! As if the brand of Cain is on his brow. And, much like Macbeth, Him who murdered sleep. So shall the Prussians, Having murdered Faith, Enjoy the faith of fellow-men no more ! In impotence my anger spends itself Against this world-wide hatred of my race. The word of Prussia has become a curse. Her influence a shrivelling, evil scourge. [12] ^lasf! 3 am a ^rus^sJian And, when I would disguise my birth, I fail. My speech betrays me in whatever I say, My broken words bespeak a broken pledge. Would that I could throw off The loathsome bonds That hold me to a foul, barbarian creed; Oh, that I could be born again — a Man; And not the puppet of a Pyrrhic Rogue! A fair day once there was of great renown; When Prussia's star, still high in the ascent, Shone o'er the universe like guiding light. Compelling admiration and applause. We needed not the seas except for trade, In which our genius made us powerful; The product of both brain and soil Spread wide upon a world That grasped it eagerly. Our men of science and our artisans, Acclaimed by all the greatest of their kind, Had bred a growing friendliness abroad; For us, great honor, born of honest toil. [13] aias;! 3 am a PrusisJian Between us and our cousins on the East A bond as of a brotherhood had come; And to the West Fair fields were tilled in peace By those whom we again could count Our friends. Proud Prussia had subscribed Her proud old name to treaties Pledging her sincerity In matters that applied to other lands, And found her word accepted without fear. Across the broad Atlantic, freedom's torch Did beckon to the Prussians. Even when the first of warlike rumblings Filled the air, These freemen were inclined to favor us. The Latins of the New World, Much impressed With great Germania's thrift, And drawn to us by strong commercial ties, Also did lean in sympathy [14] aias;! 3 am a S^xn^^ian To Prussia and her cause. Then came the dreadful truth; The veil was snatched From Prussia's nobler side. Her teeth revealed the dripping fangs Hypocrisy did hide; Her gracious smile became a vicious leer. The inbred offspring of perverted thought, Her wretched, self-contained philosophy At last bore fruit, as from a poisoned vine, To devastate, to wither and to crush. A senseless sense of military due Changed normal men into a rapist horde; Their monumental fame as husbandmen Was dragged into the slimy pit of sin. Their two-score years of efforts Went for naught When once the master spoke. Ten million men strained at the leash. Like beagles at the hunt, and, for a word, Gave all they held most dear. [15] aiasi! 3 am a l^vn^^ian Those who did violate the sanctity of homes, In that first dash through aHen land, Are gone their way — and paid the penalty; While on their children rests The blot they made. A world's activity stilled by a pen Whose stroke with vicious frenzy Was affixed to a decree, Most sordid and most black. That set a price on falsehood and deceit. O'er fields that gave a promise of fair crops The Prussian blast spread ruin. Its glory lay in digging graves Where orchards once had bloomed; In planting Death Where Life had been supreme. The roar of cannon had not yet been heard When Prussia gave the evil word — To strike! My noble Prussia made her first attack, May God forgive her, on the innocents, [16] aia£{! 3 am a ^rus^isian The children, mothers and the aged folk, Roused from their slumbers, Dragged from vine-clad homes That held no vantage point Of martial worth, In cold blood butchered, With the swine and sheep. A Prussian warning of what was to come. An effort made to subjugate, Through fright; a bloody page. Writ in the Book of Time, That will, eternally, mark Prussia's doom! Of such I am, and as I gaze upon The murd'rous folly of my native land, I say, — Alas, I am a Prussian, too. Whose blood would stagnate Were it a holy cause. E'en here the brutal story does not end, Nor does it seem the limit may be reached In Prussia's fearful scheme of savag'ry. Her eager jaw is yearning for its prey. [17] aiasi! 3 am a ^ru^s^ian Not satiated with their lustful greed, Brave Prussians took the role Of highwaymen And made their wretched victims pay The toll in gold, As well as in the loss of kin. Those whom the Uhlans had passed by Or missed with their long lances And their trampling steeds. Were left to the Assassin's civil aide — The Governor — whose single aim it was To play, officially, the robber's part. No wonder that the whole world Stood aghast at this display Of wanton, brutish lust. Long have I seen the Light. Oh, that they, too, my brothers, Could have seen its guiding shaft Before a barb'rous master led them on To crush — or try to crush — a nobler race; For every race seems nobler than my own ! [18] aiasJ! 3 am a ^rusisfian There would not then have come The harr'wing scenes that will, forever, blot My country's name; Cause it to be accursed as of a plague And leave the mark of Judas on her seal. In those forbidding days of Belgium's rape. When Honor, Truth and Justice, Thrown aside, Made way for carnage most unspeakable, The soldier's gallant call to arms became The huntsman's cry to his inhuman pack. It was a drive ! Yea, 'twas a glorious drive !^ The Prussian master's pulse Must have beat fast! Here was a drive Most worthy of the name of Prussia! True, in the place of rushing boars. The noble Prussian hunters had but babes At breast, or in their tiny cradle beds. To match their strength, their skill, [19] aiajs! 3 am a ^vu^^ian Their valor with! It was a novelty; And who but he of Prussian blood Would better like the change? 'Twas a distorted view of things mundane That brought about this world catastrophe. In Prussia's charges are disclosed her faults; Her secrets and conspiracies are bared In every accusation that is hurled, With growing fury, at a fancied foe. That others meant to rule the world Was crazed and maddened Prussia's wail. Yet did she fail completely to make note Of her own stealthy working to that end. She was the first — and, thank Almighty God, She was the only one — to turn her sword Against the helpless and the innocent; Yet did she charge her enemies With that crime. The ostrich on the desert, as it hides Its head beneath the sands. Is no more blind and no more deaf [20] ailag! 3 am a ^rus^s^ian Than Prussia, Which has failed to see the warning signs Or hear the cries Of universal protest and dismay. It is a strange anomaly that gives To this sad tragedy a roseate tint In that the Prussian thrift Has shown itself e'en on the battlefield In conquered land, where Mars holds sway On one side of the line; And Ceres, ever peaceful, Guards her fields on th'other side. From war god's blighting touch. But of what use this economic skill, This thrift, this aptitude for mastery, When all is to be lost through disregard Of what is Just and Right and what is not. From boyhood I was taught most zealously Ancestral glory lay in martial strength. The field of honor was to me my life For was not Prussia's creed [21] 01as;! 3 am a ^rusJsfian On honor based? And when I feel secure within my pride Of race; when happily I wander forth And say, "Thank God, I am of Honor born, In Honor bred !" I find I did but dream. If Honor means to murder and to loot, Then, surely, I am of an honored race; If Honor means to disavow a pledge, Forsake all laws which. Made in compact grave Between the nations for the common good. Had stood as bars against a cov'tous host; If Honor means to massacre most foul For massacre's own sake. Then Honor's mine! Those of my learned compatriots who hold That, of all nations. Providence did choose our kin To lead the world, • They, also, use the cloak of Honor As their country's shield. [22] aias;! 3 am a ^rusfsfian Perversion has not drawn the Hne Between the ranks in Thought. Both pedagogue and knight, If they be Prussian, Then oblique their views. Distorted are their pleas in self-defense. It is their claim this war is being fought To make the world more civilized And chaste. As if the bloody sacrifice That marked the Crime of Belgium Had not chastened all ! "Revenge is sweet!" to Prussia appealed; A thwarted plan made it much sweeter still. And with impartial hand the punishment Was meted out to Youth and Age alike. One could believe a blunder had been made By over-zealous soldiers. For the word To "Spare none found with arms Or found in arms" It seems was taken in its lit'ral sense. And babes have arms. [23] aiasf! 3 am a S^xn^^inn And none of them was spared. And babes were found in arms, At gentle breasts that tried to shield, Only to feel the lance. It was, indeed, a vict'ry bravely won ! My heart grows faint as I compare The briefs of the opposing camps. Our enemies adhering strictly To the rules of war. Then comes, in deadly parallel, From Kentish coast. Of Zeppelins marauding through the night. Dropping their bombs. Like sneaking murderers, Upon a cottage where but women dwell. The valiant deeds that, for a time, upheld The best traditions of our sailormen When, with their tiny craft They scoured the seas in hopeless cause. Were swept away by one torpedo Levelled at a helpless ship! r24i aia^i! 3 am a ^rusJsiian As if this in itself were not enough, The masters feel they must perpetuate The infamy by driving from their homes Those who had not offended Prussian rule But in whose slavery brutal profits lay. Thousands of alien wives and mothers, too. And girls of tender years. Left in their homes From which the husbands and the sons Had gone to do or else to die, Were sent into a hated land To till a hated soil and — worse! All protest, all appeal To Prussian gallantry was like the rag Which, flaunted at the bull. Brings on the charge. The master's voice stood out In grim relief against the humane pleas A sicken'ed world Directed at the throne. They might as well have grasped the blade [25] ^lasi! 3 am a ^rusis^ian Of the assassin's knife. The wilful murder of a woman nurse And of a seaman bold, who had defied The master's rule not to defend his own, Were merely incidents in Prussia's war. A war for what? And what, in Heaven's name. Can come of it? My country ruined in wealth. In spirit and in all it held so dear. Her honor gone, no matter what the end. Although, in miles. The nation m^ij survive. Her moral measurement will be decreased. Her degradation as a Power complete. Accepting, as an ally of her own. The foe unspeakable of all that's pure. Was but another downward step. By it The Turk and Teuton made a common cause, Uplifting License and ennobling Vice. The magic words, in threes, [26] aiasi! 3 am a Prusis^ian That found their place Upon a myriad articles abroad, Show'ing whence they came, Which same was my proud land. Will pass into oblivion. They were the words That stood for genius and for skill. To-day they bring a shudder of revolt ; For "Made in Germany'' stands also for The bloody massacre of human prey! What of Der Tag, When final reckoning comes? Not 'neath the spurs Of blustering martinet, His satellites and slaves. But on our knees Before the High Tribunal of our Lord. What of that day? Must Prussians all appear As supplicants for pardon for a crime That but an evil few did perpetrate? [27] aiag! 3 am a l^xn^^ian Must every Prussian pay the penalty Because a few did sin? Within my soul I held no grudge, no wanton wish. I carried neither lance nor sabre bared. I would not harm a man, Much less a child in arms. None thus could force my hand to make That hand do wrong did I not so elect. Yet am I shunned as if I were of them Who actually did rob and massacre The weak and helpless or, at night, Sent down from darkened skies. In semblance of a bolt from Heaven, The treacherous bomb on slumb'ring homes. It was not just that I should thus be cursed For that which I would not Nor could have done. No more I say, "Thank God I am" — instead: "Alas, I am a Prussian, woe is me! "No longer of the honored but the damned!" It is an idle wish that I might dash [28] aiasi! 3 am a Pru£fs;ian The cloak of Prussianism from me, far Into the fire of Tartarus. I would Forget that once I was of that elect. Alas, no matter what I do or say. The vivid brand remains indelible; For human agency, not having done. Cannot undo the stain. Were I to stand On mountain-top and there to all proclaim Adherence to an alien land and rule, I would be taxed with calling, secretly. To others of my breed to join with me In doing my adopted country harm. Should I denounce Barbarity and call On Heaven to witness of my good intent, That would be simulation and deceit. And do I covenant in the affairs That occupy my time. There comes the fear of those Who, having gained my pledged word, And learning my descent, profess to think A Prussian's contract isn't worth the ink! [291 ^lass! 3J am a PrusfsJian And, through it all, misguided patriots Striving, with inverted zeal, to dull The slumbering friendship That might still be ours ! Perhaps a new atrocity, done in The name of our beloved Fatherland, Three thousand miles from where I am, Or yet again a blundering diplomat New clouds will bring into a clearing sky. In either case it is as if the blame, The censure — all reproach. Should rest on me Because, alas, I am a Prussian, too! Oh, that I might, as did Laocoon, Who tried to save the Trojans— Though in vain. Since they his warning spurn'd — That I might save the country of my birth From being crushed While listening to false prophets And their creed. [30] aiasJ! 3 am a S^xn^^ian My land is outlawed and it will be so For many decades yet. The heavy odds Imposed on her cannot be overcome By lachrymose philosophers who dwell On her invincibility, While all the forces Of a really civilized world Are slowly grinding out her very life! The matchless strength That held the en'my off; That brought huge armies To retreat and flight; And then maintained its own Although refused assistance from without, Is bound to break. No strength can match a universal hate. No armed array perpetuate a wrong; Nor skill nor science can they well expect Forever to defy a righteous cause. There comes a time when honeyed words Shall fail to satisfy a people [31] aiasf! 3 am a ^rusfs^ian Who, for truth, are ill-prepared; When all the reasoning Illustrious men of letters may provide, Shall not avail against the potent thrust Of a united enmity; when end Shall come to a condition that presents A tale of plenty and a card for bread ; An empty larder, w^hile the learn'd talk on! There is no candle, be it e'er so bright. But will burn down. There is no racing steed, however staunch. But will at last go lame. Iniquity may flourish for a time As flourish weeds. Until the gardener comes. But in its proper time Right shall best Wrong, Destroy its hideous influence and pow'r. Silence the tongues that spread deceit; Bring Truth where Falsehood had usurped Her honored place [32] aiaji! 3J am a ^rusfsfian And let the bees draw honey Where the guns have sown their shells, For Peace to grow again. I am for Right, which Prussia has denied; For Justice, too, which Prussia cannot see. I fain would thus renounce my birth And claim protection of a land That honors both. But here the curse of my descent steps in Like shadowy ghost appearing in the night To stay the hand uplifted for the blow. I may renounce my birth But, to the world, alas, A Prussian I must needs remain. Misguided men Who fancied that they served the cause Of a misguided Fatherland And, doing so, turned traitors To the land that gave them shelter And the means to live, To foster this distrust have done their part. [33] aias(! 3 am a ^rusisfian 'Tis Time — and Time alone— That can efface the blot from Prussian souls ; And only then provided Mars is vanquished And his place, in Prussia, Taken by a gentler god. In France, Each empty sleeve and halting step Tell of a deed done in a v^orthy cause; In Prussia, They are brands of Shame, Deceit. Both are the marks of Fate v^hich, On the one, denote the Man; Upon the other one, the Knave. The call for vengeance can be heard Throughout the world. Each blossoming flower on the graves Of all the millions that have gone, Sends forth the seed of Hate. Each forest tree its moan for punishment. The ancients knew no strife More bitter than the struggle [34] lasf! 3 am a Prus^sJian That has come upon us now, And which we must endure long after Cannon shall have ceased to roar. Distrust and Fear, Against our will, holds fast The gentler promptings of our hearts. 'Gainst war, howe'er remote. The plans in every land replace Those for a universal Peace. With reason or without, We see in friends but lurking enemies. Our Faith is gone. As men have changed their views, So, too, the lands. Instead of dunes with huts and cottages, The coasts must be secured With battlements and mortars grim Against a treacherous foe. No longer may the tracks of steel Provide for commerce, in the main. For troops and guns [35] laiasit 3J am a S^xu^^ian These arteries of trade shall henceforth be. To weld an Iron Ring, That was to hold all nations, By the grace of Prussia's might Permitted to retain their sovereignty, Was Prussia's aim. There cannot be a doubt the Ring is there In all its rigid strength; But alien hands, alas, the welding did. Our enemies that gathered. Like the clouds in angry skies. The circle did complete. Theirs the achievement Of what we conceived. Each new antagonist adds to this band Of steel: Widens the moat that separates The Prussian from the world. I am of them, who, far from home. Like straying sheep do call the shepherd But in vain. [36] aiasf! 3 am a ^rusfsiian For, in his lust for Power and Blood, He has destroyed himself. We cannot pray to God And do a wrong to them That stand quite equal in His love. 'Tis blasphemy to call on Him for aid In spreading Death and Pestilence 'Mongst those who are His own. Yet both were done In Prussia's fearsome name. The piteous cries From murder'ed infants' lips, Neath plangent wave, And from the butchered innocents who lay Beneath the shot-swept remnants Of their homes. Made Prussia's prayer The hideous thing it was and is, And e'er must be, till end of Time. For those in my fair land Who long for Peace, [Z7] ^lasil 3 am a ^ruiSsJian Whose lives were never marred by enmity, Who felt Oppressor's martial rule at home As keenly as opponents did abroad; For them I speak, not for the martinet. Theirs are the pleas that should be heard By him who holds their destinies In sacred trust; Then used them as his pawns. If in his soul no conscience finds its way - To end the deeds so damnable, That have outraged a world, If touch of pity to him does not come, Then let the suffering of his own Call halt on his unbridled passion. The defeat, Now crushing swiftly to its certain goal, Shall not be less complete If he denies that call. A country blighted, through his act. Though free from alien host. No haven gives to him who. aia£(! 3 am a ^tusfsfian At the end of evil sway, Reading the signs, The sicken'd monk would play! Within, as well as from without, Shall come the penalty. No mother, weeping, crushed. Can well forgive him for her needless loss; The coming generation, taking note Of all the misery and pain he caused, Will curse his memory as of a fiend Who plunged a nation wantonly in ruin. Defeat, and it is sure, for him who cast The die, his downfall not alone Will bring about, But drag his country down as well. The hand of Fate Writes clearly on the wall of History. He who believed himself above the law, Into its mesh shall fall And find a Majesty above his own. That which he, ruthlessly, [39] ^lasil 3 am a l^xnsi^ian Would have imposed upon a world, Shall be imposed on him. As, whence it came. The homing bird returns, So shall the crimes. For which he sponsor stood. Come back to Prussia with relentless force. A calm may seemingly prevail When guns shall cease to roar. Again may men resume The tilling of the soil; The sun may shine on Prussian fields. Yet shall the breath of Hate Blow from the East, and West, And from the South. Since those of my own breed I know full well; Their aims, their hidden plans. Their real design, A danger warning I would sound to all The freemen of this land of liberty. [40] aias;! 3 am a ^rujE^sfian A storm is coming; And the Prussian host, To Freedom's soil transplanted, Through the years, With slow, insidious steps, Is reaching out towards the prize! I know whereof I speak When solemnly I say that. As the dawn will surely break, So, on a given day, A hostile clan of matchless strength, Will rise like toadstools In the woodland, silently. To overpow'r those true to Freedom's flag. The unseen millions now encamped in homes Engaged in innocent pursuits. Will come into the open and disclose, With terrifying force that which did tax The patience e'en of Prussia to evolve. Are all the signs lost upon them Who'd save their land from treachery? [41] ^lajB^! S am a l^tnsiiiian Can they not see the cloak Of seeming loyalty and friendship drop? Usurping of political control Is but another step along the road To Prussia's goal. Within this unarmed land an army lurks, Unseen, that would appal them who believe That, in his New World home. The Prussian is content to live in Peace! Alas, 'tis but too true The Prussian fights with unclean hands. The horror of the charge That captured foe infected were To make a scourge, far worse than war, The aftermath of this ignoble strife. Still freshly lies in human minds and hearts. A foe who stops not at such loathsome deeds Will stop at naught. Hence, safety For this great, free nation rests Upon the crushing of the Prussian boar Before his tusks reach out across the sea. [42] Sila^l 3 am a S^tu^siian May cruel hand be palsied, brain benumbed. Before another treacherous blow is struck For Greed. May dire catastrophe befall The brutal master of the human hounds Before he dares again to prostitute Humanity. May Peace on Earth prevail, Replacing martial rule in my poor land; And may the Crime of Belgium Which, in fact, is Prussia's, Be avenged through him Whose soul gave willing ear, Whose tongue gave quick assent To that unholy and ill-favoured plan. A reckoning with the master mind, alone, Will purge the hapless Prussians Of their sin. He, and the lesser minds who hung about His sword, like parasites and barnacles About a sinking ship. Have run their course. [43] illas;! S am a l^tnsi^ian No quarter did they give, None is their due. They staked their country's welfare On the chance Of placing their foul tentacles Upon unwilling lands — -and lost! And as the price the crooked gamester, Losing, pays is Scorn, Derision, Death — So let it be with them Who stole, who played, who lost, In one fell throw. The Honor of my poor, unhappy land! Jfinisf [441 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 020 934 030 6