COUNT VON BISMARCK
Many have sought, and some profess to have found, the reasons for the
remarkable royal favour enjoyed by Count Bismarck, but the chief, and to
our thinking the only one, is the extraordinary genius which even his
enemies dare not dispute, notwithstanding the fact that genius is
usually anything but a passport to the favour of kings.
We will relate one or two little anecdotes concerning the Prime
Minister, beginning with one which does not refer to him personally, but
may serve as a sort of preface to another. Every one knows the absurd
point to which military etiquette is carried in Prussia.
A Pomeranian general--Pomerania may be called the Prussian
Bœotia--being in garrison at Darmstadt and being bored even to the
fullest possibility of Darmstadt boredom, was standing at his window,
wishing for a conflagration, a revolution, an earthquake--anything--when
he beheld an officer in the distance--an officer minus his sword! An
awful breach of discipline! "Ah!" thought the delighted general, "here
is a lieutenant to make a scapegoat of. Ten minutes' lecture and a
fortnight's arrest! What luck!"
The unsuspecting officer drew nearer, and when within hail: "Lieutenant
Rupert," shouted the general. The officer looked up, saw the general,
and immediately remembering his missing sword, understood his terrible
position. The general had seen him; he could not go back, and he felt he
must brave the storm. The general beamed and rubbed his hands cheerfully
at the prospect of some amusement at last. The lieutenant plucked up
courage, entered the house, and arriving at the ante-room, beheld a
regulation sword hanging on the wall. "What a mercy!" he murmured,
unhooking the sword and quickly buckling it on. Then looking as innocent
as possible, he entered the room, and standing at attention by the door,
"The general did me the honour to call," he said.
"Yes," said the general with severity, "I have to enquire--" he stopped
suddenly, observing that the culprit's sword was at his side. His
expression changed, and he said smiling:
"Yes, I wanted to ask, I wanted to ask--What on earth was it? Ah, yes. I
wanted to ask after your family, Lieutenant Rupert. I particularly
wished to enquire after your father."
"If my father could hear of your kind feeling towards him, general, he
would be greatly gratified. Unhappily, he died twenty years ago."
The general looked considerably taken aback.
The young officer continued: "Have you any further commands, sir?"
"Why, no," said the general. "Only this. Never be seen without your
sword. Had you been without it to-day, I should have given you a
fortnight's arrest."
"I will take the greatest care, sir! You see?" answered the lieutenant,
boldly indicating the sword which hung at his side.
"Yes, yes, I see. It is all right. You can go now."
The young man lost no time in profiting by the permission; he saluted,
left the room, and carefully hung up the sword as he went through the
ante-room. As he left the house the general, being again at the window,
again saw that he had no sword. He summoned his wife:
"Look here," he said, "do you see that officer?"
"Certainly I do," she replied.
"Has he a sword or not?"
"He has not."
"Well then, you are mistaken; he looks as if he hadn't one, but he has."
The lady made no remark, being accustomed to accept whatever her husband
said. The young officer escaped with the fright, and took good care not
to forget his sword a second time.
Well, a similar misfortune--more, a real humiliation of this kind very
nearly happened to the King of Prussia, when he was only the Prince
Royal. Von Bismarck was then merely an attaché at the Frankfort Legation
without any handle to his name. When the prince stopped at Frankfort on
his way to a review at Mayence von Bismarck had the honour of being told
off to accompany him.
It was a hot day in August and the railway carriages were stifling.
Etiquette notwithstanding, everyone from the prince downward,
unbuttoned his coat. On arriving at Mayence, where the troops were drawn
up at the station to receive him, the prince refastened his coat but
left one button undone. He was just leaving the carriage, when, luckily,
von Bismarck noticed the oversight.
"Good heavens, prince!" he exclaimed, "what are you about?"
And, for once forgetting etiquette, which forbids the royal person to be
contaminated by profane fingers, he sprang forward and fastened the
offending button. Hence, according to some, came the royal favour, for
the king, greatly embarrassed by the events of '58, reflected that the
man who had saved his credit at Mayence might also save his crown at
Berlin.
The count now became the leader of the "Junker" faction, voiced by the
"Kreuz Zeitung." He was, in fact, the fittest man for the position,
possessing oratorical eloquence, great mental and physical activity, and
a complete conviction that any sort of means is justified by the end.
And, the end accomplished, he flung from the height of his tribune this
epigram in the face of an astonished Chamber: "Might is Right!" in three
words summing up both his political creed and the direct consequences
which followed.
The life-giving principles of humanity should be exemplified by three
nations:
Commercial activity by England.
Moral expansion by Germany.
Intellectual brilliance by France.
If we ask why Germany does not occupy the great position assigned to her
we find the answer in this: France has attained freedom of thought, but
Germany is allowed only the freedom of a dreamer. The sole atmosphere in
which she can breathe freely is that of the fortress or the prison. And
if we wonder why the rest of Germany is ruled by the rod of Prussia the
explanation may be found in this: German _manners_ do not exist, but
there is a national _genius_; a genius which desired no revolution, but
peace and liberty, and, above all--intellectual independence. This
desire was Prussia's greatest difficulty; she fought it, she weakened
it, and she hopes to conquer it entirely. She boasts of her compulsory
education; her children are indeed taught all they can be taught, but
once out of school they are never permitted to think for themselves.
The Junker faction is composed chiefly of younger sons who have to seek
either an official career or a military one. Failing this, they must
depend on the head of the family for a decent maintenance. With very few
exceptions there is no "old nobility" in Prussia, the aristocracy is not
distinguished by either wealth or intellect. A few names here and there
recall ancient Germanic history; others belong to Prussian military
annals. But the rest of the nobility can claim no distinction, and have
only owned their estates for a century or two.
Consequently, nearly all the liberal and progressive members of the
Chamber depend, either by position or office, on the Government, and not
one of them was strong enough to fight against a despotism which seizes
a child at the moment of his birth, guides him through adolescence, and
escorts him for the rest of his life. Therefore Count von Bismarck could
insult both Chamber and deputies with impunity, knowing that their
complaints would rouse no answering echo in the country, while at Court
they were considered as being next door to the servants. On one occasion
the President Grabow, being present at a state concert, was going to
occupy a chair in one of the less crowded rooms, when a footman stopped
him with "These chairs are meant for Excellencies, sir."
"Indeed, my friend," answered the President, "I am evidently out of
place here."
From the advent of Hohenzollern supremacy may be dated the decay of
moral independence, both in Prussia and the other Germanic states. Not
only have the Hohenzollerns failed to exercise any civilizing influence
by encouraging literature and purifying the language, but they have
changed Minerva into Pallas, and the beneficent deity of knowledge and
wisdom has become the Medusa-brandishing goddess of war.