"Pan-Chaos"

P: Near Glogau, German Communists and members of the Stahlhelm fought in the streets last week. One member of the Stahlhelm was killed, several were wounded.

P: Communist-Fascist riots broke out in Dortmund. Two Communists were killed, one policeman was gravely wounded. Charging schupos captured 30 prisoners.

P: The 56-year-old banking firm of A. Hirte closed its doors in Berlin. Ruederer & Lang of Munich suspended payments.

P: In Frankfurt, Emil Weiller, senior partner of the 136-year-old J. I. Weiller Sons, famed private bankers, took poison in his office, died.

P: Wilhelm Tang, a director of Deutsch-Suedamerikanische Bank of Berlin, rose early last week, told his wife he was going for a walk in the garden. When breakfast grew cold on the table his children went to look for him. They found the body of Wilhelm Tang hanging from the branches of a pear tree.

Hang Bruening! The absence in London of Germany's new Iron Chancellor, pale, nasal Heinrich Bruening, did him no good with German extremists. While the London conference was still in progress, Nationalists streamed into a Berlin hall to hear inflammatory speeches by Deputy Paul Bang (Finance Minister in the brief sinister Kapp "Putsch" government) and Alfred Hugenberg's disciple, Fritz Kleiner. Boomed Bang:

"America and England wanted to save Germany from the clutches of France, but the Chancellor has rejected the helping hand of the Anglo-Saxon countries."

That this was obviously untrue did not affect the case. There were shrill cries of "Wait till he gets back from London!" "Let's string him up!"

Fritz Kleiner leaped to his feet. "Bruening," he shouted, "is reaping the crop that Matthias Erzberger sowed!"

Pandemonium shook the rafters. Matthias Erzberger, a sloppily dressed, good-natured, coarse-voiced Swabian, was perhaps Germany's shrewdest post-War statesman, certainly became Germany's best hated man. As Secretary of State without Portfolio at the time of the Armistice, it was his melancholy duty not only to sign the Armistice but to persuade Germany that she had to accept the Versailles Treaty. Schultz and Tillessen, two Bavarian Nationalists acting under orders from German secret societies, murdered him in the Black Forest on Aug. 26, 1921.

Mad-eyed, bristle-lipped Adolf Hitler was not at last week's party in person, but with other Nationalist chiefs he signed a telegram to Chancellor Bruening: "The entire national opposition calls attention, in all due form, to the fact that on the basis of its fundamental principles, it will not consider as legally obligatory on itself any fresh obligations which may be assumed toward France." Schmitz. Back from London came Bruening with nothing lost, little accomplished. Mindful of the Erzberger warning, he slipped off the train at a Berlin suburban station early in the morning, motored unobserved to President Hindenburg's palace on the Wilhelmstrasse. With him was a man who had been present at every conference in London, saying little, unnoticed by British reporters: white-haired, pleasant-faced Hermann Schmitz, Germany's emergency director of finance. Bruening, Hindenburg & Co. had picked him for the job of preventing the leakage of German funds abroad on the principle of setting a Schmitz to catch a thief. As financial adviser of the great German Dye Trust, sly Schmitz organized a holding company in Basle, Switzerland, nearly a year ago, allowed dye trust stockholders to exchange their German shares, payable in marks, against Swiss shares, payable in francs. The reformed Schmitz's emergency measures were sufficiently successful last week for the Reichsbank to announce that its slender gold coverage had increased .3%.

Apart from that there was little optimism in German financial circles. Banks were still closed for all but payroll and tax payments. The clearing system broke down completely. Checks and drafts piled into drifts behind the counters. Bankers agreed that it would take more than a week after the banks were allowed to re-open before an intelligent statement could be prepared.

"Banking in Germany has degenerated into pure anarchy," said one worried banker.

Two emergency measures that followed the first Cabinet meeting immediately after Chancellor Bruening's return may or may not have been directly due to Herr Schmitz.

The eleven largest remaining German banks signed a one-for-all-all-for-one agreement, pooled their resources to form a $47,600,000 emergency Acceptance & Guaranty Bank which can be drawn on by any bank in trouble. One of the first jobs of the A. & G. Bank will be to help reorganize the Danat Bank, whose closing three weeks ago is generally admitted to have been a political move.

The Government ordered large quantities of silver coin to be minted, which at the present low price of silver is a cheaper move than issuing banknotes against gold.

Dumping. One bit of news from Germany was worrying to U. S. and British businessmen. Germans seemed resigned to the fact that no immediate foreign loan will be forthcoming, that she must help herself. The only obvious way Germans can obtain ready cash abroad is by dumping German goods. In Berlin, Hamburg, Bremen, imminent German dumping was taken for granted.

Stimson. All Germans eagerly awaited the coming of Henry Lewis Stimson, first U. S. Secretary of State to visit Berlin since the War. "Mr. Stimson," said a Berlin correspondent, "will find pan-Germania in pan-Chaos."

If that was what Statesman Stimson found he said nothing about it. He arrived at Berlin, called on Old Paul von Hindenburg, on Chancellor Bruening, on Foreign Minister Curtius, was solemnly taken to see the Greek sculpture in the Pergamon Museum and lunched on venison and Moselle in a public restaurant on the Wannsee (Tub Lake). Then he departed by Hook of Holland for London, passing en route Ramsay MacDonald and "Uncle Arthur" Henderson on their way to go through much the same performance.

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