Last Letters

by Helmuth Caspar von Moltke

  By contrast, the name Moltke came up again and again in the other hearings as well. It ran through everything like a red thread, and according to the above-mentioned “legal parameters” of the People’s Court, it was clear that I was going to be done away with.

  The entire trial is recorded by microphone on steel tapes for the archive, so if you’d ever like to, you can have them played back to you later on. The defendant steps up to the table, along with the two policemen assigned to him, who sit down on the two chairs to the right and left; chairs were provided for Reisert and me immediately, without our asking for them. Schulze, Freisler, and rapporteur in red robes. One incident was typical: For some reason a copy of the penal code was needed because Freisler wanted to read something aloud from it. But it turned out that none could be located.

  Now comes the second day. Freisler started with me. Things began in a mild tone, and quite speedily, you might even say very quickly; thank God I’m fast on my feet and I easily kept pace with Freisler, which, incidentally, we both clearly enjoyed. But if he tries that on a man who’s not too quick, that man will be condemned before he realizes that Freisler has dealt with the personal data. Up to and including the discussion with Goerdeler and my position on it, everything went quite smoothly and without much ado.

  Then came my objection that the police and the Abwehr had known about it, whereupon Freisler was seized with fit of rage number 1. Everything Delp had experienced up to that point was trifling by comparison. A hurricane was unleashed: He banged on the table, turned as red as his robe, and thundered, “I won’t put up with that kind of talk; I won’t even listen to something like that.” And it went on and on in this way. Since I knew anyhow where this was heading, it was all the same to me: I gave him an icy stare, which he clearly didn’t appreciate, and suddenly I couldn’t help but smile. This then spread to the associate judges, sitting on Freisler’s right, and to Schulze. You should have seen the look on Schulze’s face. I think that if a person were to jump from the bridge over the crocodile pond at the zoo, the uproar couldn’t be greater. Well, that exhausted the subject.

  But then came Kreisau, and he didn’t linger on the preliminaries but instead headed straight to two things: a. defeatism, b. the selection of state administrators. Both led to new fits of rage of the same quality, and when I came with the defense that all that was rooted in official business a third fit of rage ensued: “All of Adolf Hitler’s agencies work on the basis of achieving victory, and the Armed Forces High Command is no different from anywhere else in that regard; I will not listen to anything of this sort, and even if this were not the case, each individual man has the duty to spread faith in victory on his own.” And so on in long tirades.

  Now, however, came the crux of it: “Who was there? A Jesuit priest! A Jesuit priest, of all people! A Protestant clergyman, three people who were later condemned to death for having participated in the July 20th plot! And not a single National Socialist! Not one! All I want to say to that is: Now the fig leaf is off!” “A Jesuit priest, and you discuss questions of civil disobedience with him, of all people! And you know the Jesuit provincial5 as well! And he was also in Kreisau once! A Jesuit provincial, one of the highest officials of Germany’s most dangerous enemies, he visits Count Moltke in Kreisau! And you’re not ashamed of it! No German would touch a Jesuit with a ten foot pole! People who are barred from serving in the military service because of their attitude! If I know that there’s a Jesuit provincial in a town, for me that’s almost a reason not to go to that town at all! And the other clergyman.6 What was he doing there? They should attend to the beyond, but leave us in peace here. And you visit bishops! What were you doing with a bishop, any bishop? Where is your command post? Your command post is with the Führer and the National Socialist Party! That goes for you as well as for any other German, and whoever gets his orders from the guardians of the beyond, no matter how veiled these orders may be, is getting them from the enemy and will be treated accordingly!” And it went on in that vein. But delivered in a tone compared to which the earlier mad fits of rage were like the gentle rustling of a breeze.

  The upshot of this hearing “against me”—because calling it “my hearing” would be ridiculous—: All of Kreisau and any conversation connected with it is preliminary planning for high treason.

  Yes, of course, I have to add: After this climax, the end came in five minutes. As for the discussions in Fulda and Munich, none of that was broached at all; instead, Freisler said we could dispense with such matters, and asked, Have you anything else to say? To which I unfortunately responded after some hesitation, “No,” and I was through.

  Now I’ll go on with my summary: If the other people whose names came up—not in the hearing, by the way, because once things were going this way, we all steered clear of naming even a single name—have not yet been arrested, perhaps it is because they are viewed as a quantité négligeable. But if they are arrested and have gained some sort of knowledge that goes beyond purely social conversations about these kinds of issues or that establish any connection between these issues and a possible defeat, they will have to face the death penalty. That applies mainly to Einsiedel. Carl Dietrich [von Trotha] and Peters—the whole economic component7 didn’t come up, and, for heaven’s sake, there can be no mention of it—they have to stay away altogether from the following things: a. knowledge about Goerdeler; b. organized or systematic meetings; c. clergymen of all kinds; d. possibility of some part of the Reich being occupied, let alone the subject of defeat; e. meetings about any organizational8 questions concerning “state administrator,” “union,” “map,” etc.

  Einsiedel has to say this: He was interested solely in the problem of a planned economy, which he defended in the face of all kinds of opposition, and he was there only in October 1942; afterward he talked to me only on occasion, in a purely social context; his trips to Kreisau were often for the purpose of relaxation. It would be best to say that in Oct. 1942 he was also in Kreisau for two weeks of vacation, and then the others came. That has to be thought over quite carefully, because I’m afraid Maass was explicit on this point. He needs to flatly deny it all. According to the case law being applied to us, both Carl Dietrich and Einsiedel will be sentenced to death, because Carl Dietrich also knew and participated far more than Reisert. You’d better black out this paragraph quite thoroughly as soon as you’ve read it, because it could easily serve as evidence.

  In the final analysis, this concentration on the church aspect is in accordance with the inner circumstances of the case and shows that Freisler is actually a good political judge. The enormous advantage here is that we will be killed for something that we a. actually did and that b. is worthwhile. But the idea that I would be dying as a martyr for Saint Ignatius of Loyola9—and that is what it amounts to in the end, because everything else was of negligible importance by comparison—is truly a joke, and I’m already trembling at the thought of Papi’s paternal fury, given his anti-Catholic stance. He could endorse the rest, but this? Mami won’t quite approve either.10

  (Something else about the facts of the case just occurred to me. He asked me, “Do you understand that you are guilty?” I essentially said no, whereupon Freisler replied, “Look, if you still don’t realize that, if you still need to be told so, it shows that you think differently and have thus excluded yourself from the warring national community.”)

  The nice part about this argument is this: We didn’t want to use any force—that’s established; we didn’t take a single organizational step, or speak to a single man about the question of whether he would want to accept a position—that’s established; the indictment reads otherwise. All we did was think—actually it was only Delp, Gerstenmaier, and I; the others were regarded as hangers-on and Peter and Adam [von Trott zu Solz] as liaisons to Schulenburg, etc. And National Socialism has such a great fear of the thoughts of these three solitary men, the mere thoughts, that it wants to wipe out everything that is infected by them. How’s that for a complim
ent. After this trial we’ll be out of the Goerdeler mess, free from any practical action, we’re being hanged for having thought together. Freisler is right, a thousand times right; and if we do have to die, I’m all for us dying over this issue.

  I find—and now I’m coming to the practical part—that this matter, properly presented, is even a bit better than the famous Huber11 case, because even less happened. Not even a leaflet was produced. These are just ideas without even the intention to use force. The attempts to justify our behavior that we all set forth—police know, official business, Eugen didn’t understand anything, Delp always happened to be elsewhere—they have to be dropped, and Freisler rightly did so. And then one idea remains: How can Christianity be a lifeline in all this chaos? This one single idea may well claim five heads tomorrow, and later those of Steltzer and Haubach, and most likely Husen as well. But because in this trial the trio consists of Delp, Eugen, and Moltke, and the rest are involved only by way of “infection,” as it includes no one who represented anything else, no one who stood for the labor movement, no one who served any worldly interest, because it has been established that I was hostile to big landowners and represented no class interests, no interests whatever of my own, not even those of my country but rather those of all mankind; because of this, Freisler unwittingly did us quite a big favor, provided that this story can be spread and used to our advantage—at home and abroad, the way I see it. This compilation of the People involved documents that it isn’t plans, nor is it preparations, but rather spirit as such that is being persecuted. Long live Freisler!

  It’s not up to you to make use of that. Since we are to die first and foremost for St. Ignatius, his disciples ought to see to it. But you need to pass along this story to them, and it doesn’t matter which of Wurm’s people they bring in; Pressel is probably the best. I’ll discuss that with Poelchau tomorrow. If it comes out that you received and passed along this letter, you will be killed as well. Tattenbach12 clearly has to take that upon himself and say, if need be, that he got it from Delp with the last laundry. Do not let the original out of your hands; use only a copy, which has to be translated immediately to make it appear that it could come from Delp writing in the first person.

  So, that’s it for this part; the rest will come separately. J.

  Clearly Konrad [von Preysing], Dietz, and Faulhaber, and probably Wienken have to be informed. But leave that to others. Matters of this nature aren’t your business. If they’re not totally frightened, they should be able to capitalize on our death.

  1. See Appendix: Additional Documents.

  2. Throughout this letter “Kreisau” refers to the three meetings the group held there in 1942 and ’43 rather than the Moltke home.

  3. Juan de Mariana, a seventeenth-century Spanish Jesuit who defended tyrannicide.

  4. He is presumably referring to participants in the bomb plot: the counts Stauffenberg, Yorck, Schulenburg, and Schwerin among others.

  5. Father Augustin Rösch.

  6. Eugen Gerstenmaier.

  7. None of the Kreisau Circle involved with constitutional or economic issues were arrested.

  8. The Nazis were aware of the maps and leaders envisaged by the Kreisau Circle.

  9. The founder of the Jesuit order in the sixteenth century.

  10. Helmuth’s parents had become Christian Scientists, a religious belief that stood in opposition to the Catholic Church.

  11. The reference is to Kurt Huber, who was involved in writing the flyers for the Weisse Rose resistance group that were distributed by, among others, the brother and sister Hans and Sophie Scholl. All were executed for this act in 1943; see Editors’ Introduction.

  12. The Jesuit priest Count von Tattenbach, who kept in touch with Father Delp in Tegel.

  HELMUTH JAMES TO FREYA, JANUARY 10–11, 1945

  Tegel, 10 Jan 45

  My dear love, I have to start by saying that the final twenty-four hours of a life are quite obviously no different from any others. I had always imagined one would experience this only as frightful, that one would say to oneself: Now the sun is setting for the last time for you, now the clock will get to 12 only twice more, now you’re going to bed for the last time. That’s not the way it is at all. Maybe I’m a bit giddy, for there’s no denying that I’m in positively high spirits. I only beg the Lord in heaven that He would keep me like this, as it is surely easier for the flesh to die this way. How merciful the Lord has been to me! Even at the risk of sounding hysterical: I am filled only with gratitude, with no real place for anything else. He has guided me so firmly and clearly these two days: the entire room could have roared like Herr Freisler, and all the walls could have shaken, and it wouldn’t have made the slightest difference to me; it truly was like Isaiah 43:2: “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.”—Your soul, that is. When I was called up to make my closing statement, I almost felt like saying that I have only one thing to state in my defense: “And though they take our life, / Goods, honor, children, wife, / Yet is their profit small, / These things shall vanish all, / The city of God remaineth.”1 But that would have done damage to the others, so all I said was: I don’t intend to say anything else, Herr President.

  There is still a hard road ahead of me, and I can only pray that the Lord will go on being as gracious to me as He has been. For this evening, Eugen [Gerstenmaier] had written down for us: Matthew 14:22–33. [Marginal note: I’ve just seen that it was Luke 5:1–11 yesterday.] He’d had another meaning in mind; but it remains true that for me this was a day of landing a bountiful catch of fish and that tonight I’m justified in saying: “Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” And what was that lovely thing we read yesterday, my love: “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us. We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed; Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.”2 Thanks be, my love, above all to the Lord, thanks, my love, for your intercessions, thanks to all the others who prayed for us and for me. Your husband, your weak, cowardly, “complicated,” very average husband, was allowed to experience all this. If I were now to be saved—which, by God, is neither more likely nor less likely than a week ago—the demonstration of God’s presence and omnipotence was so colossal that I must say that I would have to get my bearings all over again. He can demonstrate this presence to us, quite unmistakably, when He does precisely what doesn’t suit us. Anything else is nonsense.

  So this is all I can say to you, my dear love: May God be as merciful to you as to me, and then even a dead husband won’t matter at all. He can demonstrate His omnipotence even while you make pancakes for our sons or clean up their messes, although I hope that’s a thing of the past. I probably ought to say farewell to you—but I can’t; I probably ought to bewail and bemoan what you have to go through every day—but I can’t; I probably ought to think of the burdens that will now fall to you—but I can’t. I can tell you only one thing: If you get the feeling of absolute security, if the Lord bestows on you something you would not have without this time and its conclusion, I leave you a treasure that cannot be confiscated, one far weightier than even my life. These Romans, these pathetic creatures of Schulze and Freisler and everyone in that bunch: they wouldn’t even be able to grasp how little they can take away!

  I’ll go on writing tomorrow, but since one never knows what will happen, I wanted this letter to touch on every topic. Of course I don’t know if I’m going to be executed tomorrow. It may be that I’ll be interrogated again, or beaten, or stowed away. Please keep making your presence known; maybe that will discourage them from beating me up too badly. Even though I know, after today’s outcome, that God can
even turn these beatings into nothing at all, even if every one of the bones in my body is broken before I’m hanged, and even if I have no fear of it at the moment, I’d still rather avoid that.—So, good night, be confident and undaunted. J.

  Hercher, who is a nice man, was somewhat shocked by my good mood, which goes to show you that it couldn’t be suppressed.

  11 Jan 1945

  My dear, I just feel like chatting with you a bit. I don’t actually have anything to say. We’ve discussed the material consequences in detail. You will manage somehow to make your way through, and if someone else takes over Kreisau, you’ll cope with that too. Just don’t let anything trouble you. It really isn’t worth it. I’m definitely in favor of your making sure that the Russians are informed of my death. Maybe that will enable you to stay in Kreisau. Moving about in what is left of Germany is hideous in any case. If, against all odds, the Third Reich does endure, which I cannot imagine in my wildest fantasies, you’ll have to find a way to keep the poison away from the little sons. Of course I have nothing against your leaving Germany if it comes to that. Do what you think right, and don’t consider yourself bound one way or another by any wish of mine. I’ve told you again and again: A dead man cannot rule.—But you needn’t have financial worries. So long as the Deichmann house pays and so long as you maintain the Kreisau mortgage—but you must remain adamant that it was acquired with your money, partly as an inheritance from Grandmother Schnitzler, partly as a gift from Aunt Emma (Wodan)3—then you will always have enough to live on, and even if both don’t work out, there will be enough people to help you.

  I think with unadulterated joy of you and our sons, of Kreisau and all the people there; our parting doesn’t seem the least bit grim at the moment. Maybe that is still to come. But at this moment it isn’t a burden to me. It doesn’t feel as though we’re parting at all. I don’t know how this can be. But there is not a hint of the feeling that came over me so powerfully after your first visit in October: no, it was probably November.4 Now my inner voice is telling me: a. God can lead me back there today just as well as yesterday, and b. if He calls me to Him, I’ll take it with me. I don’t have the feeling that sometimes used to come over me: Oh, just one more time I’d like to see it all again. Still, I don’t feel the least bit “otherworldly.” You can see that I am happily chatting with you instead of turning to the good Lord. There is a hymn—208, 4—that says, “for he to die is ready who living clings to Thee.” That is exactly the way I feel. Because I am alive today, living I must cling to Him; He wants no more of me. Is that pharisaical? I don’t know. But I believe I know that I live only in His grace and forgiveness, and have nothing on my own, nor can I do anything on my own.