He can not plead ignorance.  Of all that goes on in his big plantation no man has a better knowledge.  Without their personal honesty, he follows every detail of the “business” of his rubber farm with the same diligence that made rich men of George Boldt and Marshall Field.  Leopold’s knowledge is gained through many spies, by voluminous reports, by following up the expenditure of each centime, of each arm’s-length of blue cloth.  Of every Belgian employed on his farm, and ninety-five per cent. are Belgians, he holds the dossier; he knows how many kilos a month the agent whips out of his villages, how many bottles of absinthe he smuggles from the French side, whether he lives with one black woman or five, why his white wife in Belgium left him, why he left Belgium, why he dare not return.  The agent knows that Leopold, King of the Belgians, knows, and that he has shared that knowledge with the agent’s employer, the man who by bribes of rich bonuses incites him to crime, the man who could throw him into a Belgian jail, Leopold, King of the Congo.

The agent decides for him it is best to please both Leopolds, and Leopold makes no secret of what best pleases him.  For not only is he responsible for the atrocities, in that he does not try to suppress them, but he is doubly guilty in that he has encouraged them.  This he has done with cynical, callous publicity, without effort at concealment, without shame.  Men who, in obtaining rubber, committed unspeakable crimes, the memory of which makes other men uncomfortable in their presence, Leopold rewarded with rich bonuses, pensions, higher office, gilt badges of shame, and rapid advancement.  To those whom even his own judges sentenced to many years’ imprisonment he promptly granted the royal pardon, promoted, and sent back to work in the vineyard.

“That is the sort of man for me,” his action seemed to say.  “See how I value that good and faithful servant.  That man collected much rubber.  You observe I do not ask how he got it.  I will not ask you.  All you need do is to collect rubber.  Use our improved methods.  Gum copal rubbed in the kinky hair of the chief and then set on fire burns, so my agents tell me, like vitriol.  For collecting rubber the chief is no longer valuable, but to his successor it is an object-lesson.  Let me recommend also the chicotte, the torture tower, the ‘hostage’ house, and the crucifix.  Many other stimulants to labor will no doubt suggest themselves to you and to your cannibal ‘sentries.’  Help to make me rich, and don’t fear the ‘State.’ ‘L’Etat, c’est moi!’ Go as far as you like!”