post-office so late, through an oversight, that you will not receive
it today, and not before tomorrow with this; and it pains me to think
that you were disappointed in your hope when the mail was delivered,
and now (9 o'clock in the evening) are perhaps troubled with
disquietude of all sorts about me. I have spent a tiresome day,
tramping the pavement, smoking and intriguing. Do not judge of the few
words I spoke yesterday from the report in the Berlin _Times_. I shall
manage to bring you a copy of the speech, which has no significance
except as showing that I did not wish to be included in the category
of certain venal bureaucrats who turned their coat with contemptible
shamelessness to suit the wind. The impression it made was piteous,
while even my most zealous opponents shook my hand with greater warmth
after my declaration. I have just come from a great citizens' meeting,
of perhaps a thousand people, in the Milenz Hall, where the Polish
question was debated very decorously, very good speeches were made,
and on the whole the sentiment seemed to turn against the Poles,
especially after a disconsolate Jew had arrived, straight from Samter,
who told terrible stories about the lawless excesses of the Poles
against the Germans; he himself had been soundly beaten. * * *
Just for my sake do not alarm yourself if each mail does not bring you
a letter from me. There is not the slightest probability that a hair
of our heads will be touched, and my friends of all kinds overrun
me, to share their political wisdom with me, so that I began a letter
of one-quarter sheet to Malle this morning at 9, and could not finish
before 3. I am living in comfort and economy with Werdeck, only rather
far away, in consequence of which I already feel the pavement through
my soles. Cordial remembrances to the mother and the Bellins. I am
writing on the _table d'hôte_ table of the Hôtel des Princes, and a
small salad has just been brought for my supper.
Your very faithful B. April 3, '48.
Schönhausen, August 21, '48. 8.30 P.M.
To HERR VON PUTTKAMER, AT REINFELD, NEAR ZUCKERS, POMERANIA.
_Dear Father_,--You have just become, with God's gracious help, the
grandfather of a healthy, well-formed girl that Johanna has presented
me with after hard but short pains. At the moment mother and child are
doing as well as one could wish. Johanna lies still and tired, yet
cheerful and composed, behind the curtain; the little creature, in the
meantime, under coverlets on the sofa, and squalls off and on. I am
quite glad that the first is a daughter, but if it had been a cat I
should have thanked God on my knees the moment Johanna was rid of it:
it is really a desperately hard business. I came from Berlin last
night, and this morning we had no premonition of what was to come. At
ten in the morning Johanna was seized with severe pains after eating a
grape, and the accompanying symptoms led me to put her at once to bed,
and to send in haste to Tangermünde, whence, in spite of the Elbe, Dr.
Fricke arrived soon after 12. At 8 my daughter was audible, with
sonorous voice. This afternoon I sent Hildebrand off to fetch nurse
Boldt from Berlin in a great hurry. I hope you will not postpone your
journey now; but earnestly beg dear mother not to make the trip in an
exhausting manner. I know, of course, that she has little regard for
her own health, but just for Johanna's sake you must take care of
yourself, dear mother, so that she may not be anxious on your account.
Fricke pleases us very much--experienced and careful. I do not admit
visits: Bellin's wife, the doctor, and I attend to everything. Fricke
estimates the little one at about nine pounds in weight. Up to the
present time, then, everything has gone according to rule, and for
that praise and thanks be to the Lord. If you could bring Aennchen
with you that would make Johanna very happy.
22. _Morning_.--It is all going very well, only the cradle is still
lacking, and the little miss must camp meanwhile on a forage-crib. May
God have you and us in his keeping, dear parents.
Until we meet again, presently. B.
Have the kindness to attend to the announcements, save in Berlin and
Reddentin, in your neighborhood: Seehof, Satz, and so forth. Johanna
sends cordial greetings. She laments her daughter's large nose. I
think it no larger than it has a right to be.
Berlin, Saturday, 11 p. m. September 23, '48.
To FRAU VON BISMARCK, SCHÖNHAUSEN, NEAR JERICHOW.
_My Pet!_--Today at last I have news of your condition, and am very
grateful to mother for the letter. * * * I am beginning to be really
homesick for you, my heart, and mother's letter today threw me into a
mood utterly sad and crippling: a husband's heart, and a father's--at
any rate, mine in the present circumstances--does not fit in with the
whirl of politics and intrigue. On Monday, probably, the die will be
cast here. Either the ministry will be shown to be weak, like its
predecessors, and sink out--and against this I shall still
struggle--or it will do its duty, and then I do not for a moment doubt
that blood will flow on Monday evening or on Tuesday. I should not
have believed that the democrats would be confident enough to take up
the gage of battle, but all their behavior indicates that they are
bent on it. Poles, Frankfort men, loafers, volunteers--all sorts of
riffraff are again at hand. They count on the defection of the troops,
apparently misled by the talk of individual discontented gabblers
among the soldiers; but I think they will make a great mistake. I
personally have no occasion to await the thing here, and so to tempt
God by asking him to protect me in perils that I have no call to seek.
Accordingly, I shall betake my person to a place of safety not later
than tomorrow. If nothing important occurs on Monday, on Tuesday I
shall reach you; but, if the trouble begins, I should still like to
stay near the King. But there you may (in an aside I say
"unfortunately") assume with confidence that there will be no danger.
You received no letter from me today, because I sent a report about
the society to Gärtner, and you will learn from him that I am all
right. You will receive this tomorrow, and I shall write again on
Monday. Send horses for me on Tuesday. God bless and guard you, my
sweetheart.
Your faithful B.
(Postmark, Berlin, November 9, '48.)
_My Dearest_,--Although I am confident that I shall be with you in
person a few hours after this letter, I want to inform you immediately
that everything is quiet till now. I go to Potsdam at nine, but must
post the letter here now, as otherwise it will not reach you today.
Our friends have been steadfast till now, but I cannot take courage
yet to believe in anything energetic. I still fear, fear, and the
weather is unfavorable, too. Above all, you must not be afraid of
anything, if I should stay away today by any chance. The K. may send
for me, or some one else in Potsdam earnestly wish that I should stay
there to advise upon further measures, the trains may be delayed
because the carriages are required for soldiers, and other things of
the sort. Then, courage and patience, my heart, in any event. The God
who makes worlds go round can also cover me with his wings. And in P.
there is no danger anyhow. So expect me in the evening; if I happen
not to come, I shall be all right nevertheless. Cordial remembrances
to our cross little mother.
Your most faithful B.
Potsdam, November 10, '48.
_My Angel_,--Please, please do not scold me for not coming today
either; I must try to put through some more matters in relation to the
immediate future. At two this afternoon all Wrangel's troops will
reach Berlin, disarm the flying corps, maybe, take the disaffected
deputies from the _Concertsaal,_ and make the city again a royal
Prussian one. It is doubtful whether they will come to blows in the
process. Contrary to our expectations, everything remained quiet
yesterday; the democrats seem to be much discouraged. * * *
Your v.B.
Potsdam, November 14, '48.
_My Dear Pet_,--Long sleep can certainly become a vice. Senfft has
just waked me at nine o'clock, and I cannot yet get the sand out of my
eyes. It is quiet here. Yesterday it was said to be the intention to
serenade the Queen (on her birthday) with mock music; one company
posted there sufficed to make the audacious people withdraw in
silence. Berlin is in a state of siege, but as yet not a shot fired.
The disarming of the city militia goes on forcibly and very gradually.
The meeting in the Schützenhaus was dispersed by soldiers yesterday;
six men who were unwilling to go were thrown out. Martial law will be
proclaimed over there today. My friend Schramm has been arrested. That
Rob. Blum, Fröbel, Messenhauser, have been shot in Vienna, you already
know from the newspapers. Good-by, you angel; I must close. Many
remembrances to all. The peasants of the neighborhood have declared to
the King that if he has need of them he should just call them: that
they would come with weapons and supplies to aid his troops, from the
Zauch-Belzig-Teltow, the Havelland, and other districts. Mention that
in Schönhausen, please, so that it may go the rounds.
Your v.B.
Potsdam, Thursday Morning, November 16, '48.
_Dear Nanne!_--I did not get your very dear, nice letter of Tuesday
morning until yesterday afternoon, but none the less did I right
fervently rejoice and take comfort in it, because you are well, at
least in your way, and are fond of me. There is no news from here
except that Potsdam and Berlin are as quiet as under the former King,
and the surrender of arms in B. continues without interruption, with
searching of houses, etc. It is possible that there may be scenes of
violence incidentally--the troops secretly long for them--but on the
whole the "passive resistance" of the democrats seems to me only a
seasonable expression for what is usually called fear. Yesterday I
dined with the King. The Queen was amiable in the English fashion. The
enclosed twig of erica I picked from her sewing-table, and send it to
keep you from being jealous. * * *
If a letter from the Stettin bank has arrived, send it to me
immediately, please, marked, "To be delivered promptly." If I do not
receive it before day after tomorrow, I shall return home, but must
then go to Stettin at the beginning of next week. So let horses be
sent for me on Saturday afternoon; this evening I unfortunately cannot
go to Genthin, because I expect Manteuffel here. * * *
The democrats are working all their schemes in order to represent the
opinion of the "people" as hostile to the King; hundreds of feigned
signatures. Please ask the town-councillor whether there are not some
sensible people in Magdeburg, who care more for their neck, with quiet
and good order, than for this outcry of street politicians, and who
will send the King a counter-address from Magdeburg. I must close.
Give my best regards to mamma, and kiss the little one for me on the
left eye. Day after tomorrow, then, if I do not get the Stettin letter
sooner. Good-by, my sweet angel. Yours forever, v.B. Schönhausen,
July 18, '49.
_My Pet_,-- * * * I wanted to write you in the evening, but the air was
so heavenly that I sat for two hours or so on the bench in front of
the garden-house, smoked and looked at the bats flying, just as with
you two years ago, my darling, before we started on our trip. The
trees stood so still and high near me, the air fragrant with linden
blossoms; in the garden a quail whistled and partridges allured, and
over beyond Arneburg lay the last pink border of the sunset. I was
truly filled with gratitude to God, and there arose before my soul the
quiet happiness of a family life filled with love, a peaceful haven,
into which a gust of wind perchance forces its way from the storms of
the world-ocean and ruffles the surface, but its warm depths remain
clear and still so long as the cross of the Lord is reflected in them.
Though the reflected image be often faint and distorted, God knows his
sign still. Do you give thanks to Him, too, my angel; think of the
many blessings He has conferred upon us, and the many dangers against
which He has protected us, and, with firm reliance on His strong hand,
confront the evil spirits with that when they try to affright your
sick fancy with all sorts of images of fear. * * *
Your most faithful
v.B.
Brandenburg, July 23, '49.
_My Beloved Nanne!_--I have just received your short letter of Friday,
which reassures me somewhat, as I infer from it that our little one
has not the croup, but the whooping-cough, which is, indeed, bad, but
not so dangerous as the other. You, poor dear, must have worried
yourself sick. It is very fortunate that you have such good assistance
from our people and the preacher, yet are you all somewhat lacking in
confidence, and increase each other's anxiety instead of comforting
one another. Barschall has just told me that all of his children have
had this croupy cough--that it was endemic in Posen in his time; his
own and other children were attacked by it repeatedly in the course of
a few days; that every family had an emetic of a certain kind on hand
in the house, and by that means overcame the enemy easily every time,
and without permanent consequences for the child. Be comforted, then,
and trust in the Lord God; He does, indeed, show us the rod that He
has ready for us, but I have the firm belief that He will put it back
behind the mirror. As a child I, too, suffered from whooping-cough to
the extent of inflammation of the lungs, and yet entirely outgrew it.
I have the greatest longing to be with you, my angel, and think day
and night about you and your distress, and about the little creature,
during all the wild turmoil of the elections. * * *
Here in Brandenburg the party of the centre is decidedly stronger than
ours; in the country districts I hope it is the other way, yet the
fact cannot be overlooked. It is incredible what cock-and-bull stories
the democrats tell the peasants about me; in fact, one from the
Schönhausen district, three miles from us, confided to me yesterday
that, when my name is mentioned among them, a regular shudder goes
through them from head to foot, as though they should get a couple of
"old-Prussian broadsword strokes" laid across their shoulders. As an
opponent said recently, at a meeting, "Do you mean to elect Bismarck
Schönhausen, the man 'who, in the countryman's evening prayer, stands
hard by the devil'?" (From Grillparzer's _Ahnfrau_.) And yet I am the
most soft-hearted person in the world towards the common people. On
the whole, my election here in these circumstances seems very doubtful
to me; and as I do not believe I shall be elected in the other place
either, when I am not there personally, we may live together quietly
the rest of the summer, if it be God's will, and I will pet you into
recovery from your fright about the child, my darling. Have no anxiety
whatever about my personal safety; one hears nothing of the cholera
here except in a letter from Reinfeld. The first rule to observe, if
it should come nearer to you, is to speak of it as little as possible;
by speaking, one always augments the fear of others, and fear of it
is the easiest bridge on which it can enter the human body. * * *
God guard you and your child, and all our house.
Your most faithful
v.B.
It is better not to leave the doors all open constantly, for the child
often gets shock from the draught, when one is opened, before you can
prevent it.
(Postmark, Berlin, August 8, '49.)
_My Love_,--I sent you a letter this morning, and have just received
yours, in reply to which I will add a few more words touching the
wet-nurse. If any one besides you and father and mother already knows
about the matter, in the house or outside, then tell her the truth
unhesitatingly, for in that case it will not stay hidden. If the
matter is still known to yourselves alone, let it continue so, but
then keep watch on the mail-bag, lest she learn of it unexpectedly.
The wet-nurse's sister here is unwilling to have it told to her. I
shall look her up today and speak with her. But if you do not wish to
keep it secret any longer, when once the child is rid of her cough,
you should at any rate look about you for a wet-nurse or woman who, in
case of necessity, can take Friederike's place immediately, if the
effect is such that the child cannot stay with her. I shall get the
sister to give me a letter to her, in which the story will be told
exactly and soothingly; this I shall send to you, so that you may make
use of it in case of need; that, I think, is the best way she can
learn of it. To tell her first that her child is sick, and so forth, I
do not consider a good plan, for anxiety has a worse effect than the
truth. God will graciously bring us out of this trouble. He holds us
with a short rein lest we should become self-confident, but He will
not let us fall. Good-by, my best-of-all; pray and keep your head up.
Your very faithful
v.B.
Berlin, August 11, '49.
_Mon Ange_,--I went to see the wet-nurse's kinsfolk, and there learned
that the _fiancé_ had written to her last Wednesday and revealed all
to her; so the matter will go as God directs. If you chanced to
intercept the letter, and on receipt of this have not yet delivered
it, please delay it until my next arrives. I could not find the
_fiancé_ himself, and directed him to come to me this evening, and
shall write you what I learn from him. If Friederike knows everything
already, my wishes will reach you too late; otherwise I should like,
if in accordance with medical opinion, not to have the wet-nurse sent
away altogether, but only relieved from service for a few hours or
days; if, however, there are scruples on that point, it can't be done,
of course. From my many doubts, you will see that I cannot decide the
matter very well at this distance. Act quite in accordance with the
advice of your mother and the other experienced friends. I give my
views, merely, not commands. * * * Be content with these lines for
today; be courageous and submissive to God's will, my darling; all
will surely go well. Cordial remembrances to the parents.
Your most faithful
v.B.
Berlin, Friday. (Postmark, August 17, '49.)
_Dearest Nanne_,-- * * * Your last letter, in which you inform me of
the happy solution of the wet-nurse difficulty, took a real load off
my heart; I thanked God for His mercy, and could almost have got drunk
from pure gayety. May His protection extend henceforward, too, over
you and the little darling. I am living with Hans here at the corner
of Taubenstrasse, three rooms and one alcove, quite elegant, but
narrow little holes; Hans' bed full of bugs, but mine not as yet--I
seem not to be to their taste. We pay twenty-five rix-dollars a month,
together. If there were one additional small room, and not two flights
of stairs, I could live with you here, and Hans could get another
apartment below in this house. But, as it is, it would be too cramped
for us. I have talked with the _fiancé_ of the wet-nurse, a
modest-looking person. He spoke of her with love, and declared in
reply to my question that he certainly is willing to marry her. What
he wrote about the "white pestilence" is nonsense; no such sickness
exists, least of all in Berlin. The cholera is fast disappearing. I
have not heard a word more about it since I came here; one sees it
only in newspaper reports. Isn't our mammy jealous because, according
to the paper, I have been in company with "strikingly handsome"
Englishwomen? Lady Jersey was really something uncommon, such as is
usually seen only in _keepsakes_. I would have paid a rix-dollar
admission if she had been exhibited for money. She is now in Vienna.
For the rest, I have not had a letter from you this long time; my last
news comes from Bernhard, who left you a week ago today. God has
upheld you meantime, I trust, my angel. It is possible that a letter
from you is here. The delivery is always rather irregular: sometimes
the letter-carrier brings them, sometimes they are delivered at the
Chamber postal station. I will go immediately and inquire if anything
is there; then I will take a bath, and return at least ten calls that
have been paid me. It is a misery that now the people always receive
one--one loses a terrible amount of time at it.... Hans is still
inclined to treat me tyrannically, but I resist, and have been so far
successful that I sleep as long as I please, whereat the coffee grows
cold, however, as he is obstinately bent on not breakfasting alone.
So, too, he will not go to bed if I do not go at the same time, but
sleeps, just like my little Nanne, on the sofa.... Now, good-by my
much-beloved heart. I am very anxious on your account, and often am
quite tearful about it. Best regards to the parents.
Your most faithful v.B.
Berlin, Monday. (Postmark, August 28, '49.)
_My Darling_,--I sit here in my corner room, two flights up, and
survey the sky, full of nothing but little sunset-tinted lambs, as it
appears, along the Taubenstrasse and over the tree-tops of Prinz
Carl's garden, while along Friedrichstrasse it is all golden and
cloudless; the air damp and mild, too. I thought of you and of Venice,
and this only I wanted to write to you. News has come today that
Venice has surrendered at discretion; so we can go there again, and
again see the tall white grenadiers. * * * I dined with Manteuffel
today, yesterday with Prince Albert, of course, day before yesterday
with Arnim, and then I took a ride with him of fourteen miles at a
gallop--which suited me well, save for some muscular pains. In the
Chamber we keep on doing nothing whatever; in the Upper House the
German question, happily, has been brought forward again in very good
speeches by Gerlach, Bethmann, and Stahl, and yet today the Camphausen
proposition was adopted with all the votes against nineteen. With us,
too, it is beginning to excite men's tempers. The proposition is bad
in its tendency, but its result insignificant even if it goes through
with us, as is to be expected. _Tant de bruit pour une omelette_. The
real decision will not be reached in our Chambers, but in diplomacy
and on the battlefield, and all that we prate and resolve about it has
no more value than the moonshine observations of a sentimental youth
who builds air-castles and thinks that some unexpected event will make
him a great man. _Je m'en moque!_--and the farce often bores me nearly
to death, because I see no sensible object in this straw-threshing.
Mother's little letter gave me great pleasure, because, in the first
place, I see that you are well, and then because she has her old joke
with me, which is much pleasanter at a distance, as it does not lead
to strife; and yet how I should like to quarrel with mammy once more!
I am genuinely homesick to be quietly with you all in Schönhausen.
Have you received the ribbon for Aennchen?
_Tuesday_.--Hans is just breakfasting, and eating up, from sheer
stinginess, a quarter pound of butter that he bought three days ago,
because it begins to get old. Now he screams that my tea is there,
too. I close for today, as I have something to do afterwards. My love
to FatherMotherAnnaAdelheidMarie and all the rest. God's blessing be
with you and keep you well and merry.
Your most faithful v.B.
Berlin, September 11, '49. (Postmarked September 10.)