IN WHICH BISMARCK EMERGES FROM AN IMPOSSIBLE POSITION
Now for three months past Bismarck had been in an impossible position,
and no one could predict how he would emerge from it. Notwithstanding
the important events which were being enacted from China to Mexico, it
was upon him that the eyes of Europe were fixed.
Old ministers, experienced in all the wiles of diplomacy, followed him
with their eyes, spyglass in hand, never doubting that the epoch-making
minister had an accomplice on the throne in a policy of which they
vainly sought for precedents in the world's history. If, however, there
should prove to be no accomplice, they pronounced that he must be a fool
without an equal.
Young diplomats, modestly aware that they did not quite rank with the
Talleyrands, the Metternichs, or Nesselrodes, studied him more
seriously, believing they desired the infancy of a new policy destined
to carry their epoch to its zenith, whispering the question which
Germany has asked for three hundred years: "_Ist es der Mann?_" (Can it
be the Man?) To make this question comprehensible we must tell our
readers that Germany awaits a liberator as the Jews awaited a Messiah.
Whenever her chains gall her, she exclaims: "_Wo bleibt der Mann?_"
(Where, then, is the Man?)
Now, some pretend that to-day in Germany a fourth party, which up to the
present has been crouching in the gloom, is preparing to emerge--a
horrible figure, if the poets of Germany are to be believed. Listen to
Heine on the subject:
"There is thunder truly in Germany, yea, even in Germany: it comes
slowly; it rolls up gradually from afar; but I doubt not it will come.
"And when you hear a crash, such a crash as the world has not heard in
all history, you will know that the German thunder has done its work. At
this uproar eagles will fall dead from the upper air; and lions in the
pathless deserts of Africa will crouch terrified in their lairs. In
Germany will be enacted a drama compared with which the French
Revolution will seem but an _innocent idyll_."
Had Heinrich Heine been the only prophet I should not repeat his
auguries, for Heine was a dreamer. But here is what Ludwig B---- says:
"In truth, Germany has accomplished nothing for three centuries, and has
patiently endured all the suffering inflicted upon her. But, even so,
her labours, sufferings, and joys have not subdued her virgin heart, nor
her chaste spirit. She contains the reserve forces of liberty and will
ensure its triumph.
"Her day will come; and to bring it about but little is necessary a
flash of good-humour, a smile, a summer shower, a thaw, a fool the more,
or a fool the less, a nothing; the bell of a mule is enough to bring
down an avalanche. Then France, which is not easily astonished, France
which accomplished in three days the work of three hundred years, and
has ceased to wonder at her own work, will survey the German nation with
astonishment which will not be merely surprise but admiration."
But whether it was the Man or was not the Man that the gallery watched
as he weighed Europe in the scales, putting everything into one, nothing
into the other, whether he belonged to the old or to the new diplomacy
mattered little. The only question was--will von Bismarck demand a
dissolution of the Chamber, or will the Chamber impeach the count?
The conquest of Schleswig-Holstein had carried him to the height of
fortune, but the new complications arising _à propos_ of the election of
the Duke of Augustenburg, made everything seem doubtful even to the
genius of von Bismarck. During a long interview with the king which took
place the very day on which this story begins, he fancied that his
influence was shaken, and he attributed the king's coldness to the
persistent ill will of the queen.
It is true that until now the count had worked only for his own personal
advancement, and, having kept entire silence as to his projects, was
reserving an explanation for a favourable moment, when by the grandeur
and clearness of his views he hoped to recover the goodwill of his
sovereign, by an audacious _coup d'état_ to build up a more solid and
unassailable position than ever.
He had, then, just left the king, intending to unmask his new plan as
soon as possible, counting on the telegraphic despatches to create an
effect favourable to himself, which, by making war inevitable, would
ensure his own safety.
He left the palace accordingly, immersed in these thoughts, and so
preoccupied that not only did he scarcely observe the excitement in the
crowded streets, but he did not notice a young man leaning against one
of the columns of the theatre, who left his place as he passed, and
followed him like his shadow in and out of the groups blocking the
street. Twice or thrice, however, as if warned of this close pursuit by
some magnetic current, the count turned his head, but seeing only a
well-dressed young man apparently belonging to his own class in life, he
paid no attention to him.
It was not until he had passed the Friedrich Strasse and was crossing
the road that he really noticed that the young man seemed determined to
follow him. He then decided as soon as he had reached the other side to
stop and ask what his pursuer meant by shadowing him.
But the shadower did not give him an opportunity. The count had hardly
proceeded three or four steps on his way when he heard a report, and
felt the wind of a ball which just missed his coat collar. He stopped
and turned sharply round, seeing in a flash the eddying smoke, the aimed
revolver, the assassin with his finger on the trigger preparing to fire
again.
But, as we have said, the count was naturally brave: it did not occur to
him either to fly or to call for help. He threw himself upon his enemy,
who, without an instant's delay, fired the second and third shots, which
whistled harmlessly by. Whether the assassin's hand trembled under
stress of emotion, or whether, as some say, Providence (which
nevertheless permitted the assassinations of Henri IV and Gustavus
Adolphus) forbade the accomplishment of such a crime, the two balls
passed right and left of von Bismarck.
Then the murderer lost courage and turned to fly. But the count seized
him by the collar with one hand and with the other clutched the barrel
of the revolver. Once again a shot was fired; the count was slightly
wounded, but kept his hold and grasped his adversary closely, throwing
him on the ground, and finally handed him over to the Prussian officers.
Seizing the favourable occasion with the promptitude of genius, he
again took his way to the palace, bent on making this event the turning
point of the situation.
This time he passed through a double avenue of spectators, whereas
previously in the public commotion no one had noticed him. It was now
otherwise--the murderer's attempt, of which he had been the object and
from which he had emerged with so much courage, attracted every one's
attention, if not their sympathy, and whether loved or not loved, all
made room and saluted him. Sympathy might be wanting, but the count
could at all events read admiration upon every face.
Von Bismarck was at this time about fifty or fifty-two; tall, with a
well-proportioned figure, slightly puffy, and almost bald except at the
temples, with a thick moustache. One of his cheeks was furrowed by a
scar, the legacy of a duel fought at the University of Göttingen.
The palace guard had already heard the news and turned out to receive
the count, who, as colonel in the Army, was entitled to this mark of
respect. He graciously responded, and went up the staircase leading to
the king's audience chamber.
As prime minister, the count had the right of entry at any time. He was
about to turn the door handle when the usher in waiting stopped him,
saying:
"His Excellency will pardon me, but the king can see no one."
"Not even me?" asked the count.
"Not even your Excellency," replied the usher with a low bow.
The count stepped backward with a movement of the lips that might have
passed for a smile, but was certainly not one. Then he began to study,
but without seeing it, a large naval picture which decorated the
ante-room, standing out by reason of its immense gilt frame from the
official green paper which adorns all the royal apartments.
At the end of a quarter of an hour, the door opened, the count hearing
the _frou frou_ of a satin dress, turned and bowed low before a woman of
forty to forty-five years of age, who had evidently possessed great
beauty and was indeed still beautiful. Perhaps, if the "Almanach de
Gotha" were consulted, it would be found that the lady was rather older
than this, but as the proverb says: "A woman is as old as she looks,"
and I see no reason why queens should be excepted.
The lady was Queen Marie Louise Augusta Catherine, daughter of Charles
Frederic, Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar, and known throughout Europe as the
Queen Augusta. She was of medium height--is best described by the
essentially French word _attrayant_. She wore on her left arm the
feminine Order of Queen Louise of Prussia. She passed the minister
slowly and somewhat haughtily, saluting him indeed, but without her
usual kindness. By the doors through which she passed the count
understood she had been with the king, and was now returning to her own
apartments.
The queen had left the door belonging to the king's apartment open
behind her, and the usher now intimated that the minister might enter.
He waited, however, until the door had closed upon the queen.
"Yes," he said, "it is true that I was not born a baron, but let us see
what the future will do for me."
And then he passed forward. The various lackeys or chamberlains whom he
met hastened to open the doors leading to the audience-room. Reaching it
the chamberlain announced in a loud voice: "His Excellency Count von
Bismarck."
The king started and turned round. He was standing before the
chimney-piece, and heard the name of von Bismarck with some surprise, it
being barely a quarter of an hour since the minister had left him. The
count wondered if the king had already heard what had happened to him in
the interval.
He bowed low before His Majesty.
"Sire," he said, "an event of great importance has recalled me to Your
Majesty, but I see with regret that the moment is unfavourable--"
"Why?" enquired the king.
"Because I have just had the honour of meeting the queen in the
ante-room, and not having the happiness of being in Her Majesty's good
graces--"
"Well, count, I admit that she does not see eye to eye with you."
"She is wrong, sire, for my devotion belongs equally to my king and to
my queen, and the one cannot become Emperor of Germany without the other
becoming Empress."
"A dream, my dear count, in which Queen Augusta unfortunately believes,
but which is not the dream of a reasonable being."
"Sire, the unity of Germany is as much decreed in the design of
Providence as the unity of Italy."
"Excellent," said the king, laughing; "can there be a united Italy while
the Italians possess neither Rome nor Venice?"
"Italy is in formation, sire. She began her march in '59 and will not
stop on the way. If she looks like stopping, she is only taking breath.
Indeed, have we not promised her Venice?"
"Yes, but it is not we who will give it her."
"Who then?"
"France? who has already given her Lombardy, and has let her take the
duchies and Naples. France!" said the king. "France let her take all
that with quite the best will in the world."
"Is Your Majesty aware of the contents of the telegraphic despatches
which arrived when I was here and which were delivered as I left?"
"Yes, I know. The Emperor Napoleon's speech at Auxerre," answered the
king with some embarrassment. "You refer to that, do you not?"
"Well, sire, the emperor's speech means war--war not only against
Austria but against Germany. It means Venice for Italy and the Rhine
provinces for France."
"You really think so?"
"I mean that if we give France time to arm, the question without
becoming desperate becomes grave, but that if we fall promptly and
vigorously upon Austria, we shall be on the Moldau with three hundred
thousand men before France can reach the Rhine with fifty thousand."
"Count, you do not give the Austrians their proper value; the swagger of
our young men has gone to your head."
"Sire, if I appear to adopt the opinions of the heir-apparent and of
Prince Frederic Charles, I can only say that the prince having been born
on June 29th, 1801, is scarcely a young man; but the fact is, that in
these matters I rely on my own opinion only, and I say deliberately in a
war against Prussia, Austria will certainly be beaten."
"Really?" said the king doubtfully. "Yet I have heard you speak in high
terms of both their generals and their soldiers."
"Certainly."
"Well then, it does not seem to me so remarkably easy to conquer good
soldiers commanded by good generals."
"They have good, soldiers, sire, they have good generals, but we shall
beat them because our own organization and arrangement are superior to
theirs. When I persuaded Your Majesty to undertake the war on Schleswig
which Your Majesty did not desire to do--"
"If I had not desired to make war on Schleswig it would never have been
made!"
"That is very true, sire, but Your Majesty hesitated; I had the courage
to insist, and Your Majesty approved of my reasons."
"Yes, and what is the result of the war on Schleswig? War throughout
Germany!"
"True, sire, in the first place I like a situation that calls for
resolute action; and as I consider war in Germany inevitable, I
congratulate you."
"Will you explain whence comes your confidence?"
"Your Majesty forgets that I made the campaign with the Prussian army. I
did not do it for the mere pleasure of hearing cannon, of counting the
dead, and of sleeping on the battlefield, where I assure you one sleeps
very badly, or for the purpose of giving you what was nevertheless well
worth having, two posts on the Baltic, of which Prussia stood in great
need. No, I made the campaign with the object of trying the Austrians,
and I repeat that they are behind us in everything--discipline,
armaments, use of arms: they have bad rifles, bad artillery, and worse
powder. In a war against us Austria will be beaten from the very
commencement, for we have everything which she has not, and Austria once
vanquished, the supremacy in Germany must inevitably fall from her hands
into those of Prussia."
"And how is Prussia with a population of eighteen millions to maintain
her superiority over sixty? Only look at her pitiful appearance on the
map."
"That is exactly the point. I have looked at her for three years, and
now is the time to mould her anew. Prussia is a great serpent whose head
is at Thionville, while her tail is at Memel, and which has a lump in
her stomach because she has swallowed half Saxony. She is a kingdom cut
in two by another--Hanover--in such a fashion that you cannot get home
without going abroad. You must understand, sire, Hanover is bound to
become part of Prussia."
"But what will England say to this?"
"England is no longer in the age of Pitt and Cobourg. England is the
very humble servant of the Manchester School, of Gladstone, Cobden, and
their scholars; England will do no more for Hanover than she did for
Denmark. Must we not take Saxony also?"
"France will never allow us to meddle with Saxony, if only in memory of
the king who was faithful to her in 1813."
"Not if we took too big a mouthful; but if we only nibble she will shut
both eyes, or at least one of them. And is not Hesse also very
necessary?"
"The Confederation will not abandon all Hesse."
"But if it will let us take half, that is all we want. Now let us
consider Frankfort-on-the-Main."
"Frankfort-on-the-Main! The free town! The seat of the Diet!"
"The moment Prussia can reckon thirty millions of men instead of
eighteen the Diet is dead. Prussia will then be the Diet. Only, instead
of crying a decree she will say 'decree.'"
"We shall have the whole of the Confederation against us. It will side
with Austria."
"So much the better!"
"And why?"
"Austria once beaten, the Confederation is beaten along with her."
"We shall have a million men against us."
"Let us count them."
"There are four hundred and fifty thousand in Austria--"
"Agreed."
"And four hundred and fifty thousand in Venetia."
"The emperor is too obstinate to recall troops from Venice before two or
three battles if he is successful, before ten if he is beaten."
"Bavaria has one hundred and sixty thousand."
"I will answer for Bavaria--her king is too fond of music to love the
sound of cannon."
"Hanover, twenty-five thousand men."
"Only a mouthful to swallow on our first march."
"Saxony, fifteen thousand."
"Another mouthful."
"And a hundred and fifty thousand belonging to the Confederation."
"The Confederation will have no time to arm them; only we must not lose
a moment, sire; therefore I now say 'War, Victory, the supremacy of
Prussia--myself--or-'"
"Or?"
"Or my resignation, which I lay very humbly at Your Majesty's feet."
"What is that on your hand, count?"
"Nothing, sire."
"It looks like blood."
"Perhaps it is."
"Is it true, then, that some one attempted your life by firing at you
with a revolver?"
"Five times, sire."
"Five? Good gracious!"
"He thought it none too many for me."
"And you are unwounded?"
"Only a scratch on the little finger."
"And who was your assassin?"
"I do not know who he is."
"Did he refuse to give his name?"
"No, I forgot to ask him; besides, that is the Attorney-General's
affair, not mine. I do not interfere with other people's concerns. Now,
my own business is my King's business, and that is here."
"I am listening," said the king.
"To-morrow the chamber is dissolved; the following day we mobilize; in
eight days hostilities are declared, or else--"
"Or else what?"
"Or else, as I have the honour to repeat to Your Majesty, my
resignation."
Then, without waiting for the king's answer the Count von Bismarck bowed
low, and according to etiquette retired backwards from the king's
presence. The king said nothing to detain his minister, but before
closing the door, that gentleman heard the bell rung loudly enough to
rouse the whole palace.