convinced, through members of the royal house and from my own
observations, that the Princess was prejudiced against me personally.
The fact itself did not surprise me so much as the form in which her
prejudice against me had been expressed in the narrow family
circle--"she did not trust me." I was prepared for antipathy on
account of my alleged anti-English feelings and by reason of my
refusal to obey English influences; but from a conversation which I
had with the Princess after the war of 1866 while sitting next to her
at table I was obliged to conclude that she had subsequently allowed
herself to be influenced in her judgment of my character by
further-reaching calumnies. I was ambitious, she said, in a
half-jesting tone, to be a king or at least president of a republic. I
replied in the same semi-jocular tone that I was personally spoilt for
a republican; that I had grown up in the royalist traditions of the
family and had need of a monarchical institution for my earthly
well-being: I thanked God, however, I was not destined to live like a
king, constantly on show, but to be until death the king's faithful
subject. I added that no guarantee could, however, be given that this
conviction of mine would be universally inherited, and this not
because royalists would give out, but because perhaps kings might.
_Pour faire un civet, il faut un lièvre, et pour faire une monarchie
il faut un roi_. I could not answer for it that for want of such the
next generation might not be republican. I further remarked that in
thus expressing myself I was not free from anxiety at the idea of a
change in the occupancy of the throne without a transference of the
monarchical traditions to the successor. But the Princess avoided
every serious turn and kept up the jocular tone as amiable and
entertaining as ever; she rather gave me the impression that she
wished to tease a political opponent.
During the first years of my ministry I frequently remarked in the
course of similar conversation that the Princess took pleasure in
provoking my patriotic susceptibility by playful criticism of persons
and matters.
At that ball at Versailles Queen Victoria spoke to me in German. She
gave me the impression of beholding in me a noteworthy but
unsympathetic personality, but still her tone of voice was without
that touch of ironical superiority that I thought I detected in Prince
Albert's. She continued to be amiable and courteous like one unwilling
to treat an eccentric fellow in an unfriendly way.
In comparison with Berlin it seemed a curious arrangement to me that
at supper the company ate in three classes, with gradations in the
menu, and that such guests as were to sup at all were assured of this
by having a ticket bearing a number handed to them as they entered.
The tickets of the first class also bore the name of the lady
presiding at the table to which they referred. These tables were
arranged to accommodate fifteen or twenty. On entering I received one
of these tickets for Countess Walewska's table and later on in the
ball-room two more from two other lady patronesses of diplomacy and of
the Court. No exact plan for placing the guests had therefore been
made out. I chose the table of Countess Walewska, to whose department
I belonged as a foreign diplomatist. On the way to the room in
question I came across a Prussian officer in the uniform of an
infantry regiment of the guard, accompanied by a French lady; he was
engaged in an animated dispute with one of the imperial household
stewards who would not allow either of them to pass, not being
provided with tickets. After the officer, in answer to my inquiries,
had explained the matter and indicated the lady as a duchess bearing
an Italian title of the First Empire, I told the court official that I
had the gentleman's ticket, and gave him one of mine. Now, however,
the official would not allow the lady to pass and I therefore gave the
officer my second ticket for his duchess. The official then said
significantly to me: "_Mais vous ne passerez pas sans carte_." On my
showing him the third, he made a face of astonishment and allowed all
three of us to pass. I recommended my two _protégés_ not to sit down
at the tables indicated on the tickets, but to try and find seats
elsewhere; nor did any complaints concerning my distribution of
tickets ever come to my ears. The want of organization was so great
that our table was not fully occupied, a fact due to the absence of
any understanding among the _dames patronesses_. Old Prince Pückler
had either received no ticket or had been unable to find his table;
after he had turned to me, whom he knew by sight, he was invited by
Countess Walewska to take one of the seats that had remained empty.
The supper, in spite of the triple division, was neither materially
nor as regards its preparation upon a level with what is done in
Berlin at similar crowded festivities; the waiting only was efficient
and prompt.
What struck me most was the difference in the regulations for the free
circulation of the throng. In this respect the palace of Versailles
offers much greater facilities than that of Berlin on account of the
larger number and, if we except the White Hall, the greater
spaciousness of the apartments. Here those who had supped in class 1
were ordered to make their exit by the same way as the hungry ones of
class 2 entered, their impetuous charge betraying certainly less
acquaintance with the customs of Court society. Personal collisions
occurred among the belaced and beribboned gentlemen and superelegant
ladies, giving rise to scuffles and abusive language, such as would
be impossible in our palace. I retired with the satisfactory
impression that in spite of all the splendor of the imperial Court the
Court service, the breeding and manners of Court society were on a
higher level with us, as well as in St. Petersburg and Vienna, than in
Paris, and that the times were past when one could go to France and to
the Court of Paris to receive a schooling in courtesy and good
manners. Even the etiquette of small German Courts, antiquated as it
was, especially in comparison with St. Petersburg, was more dignified
than the practice of the imperial Court. It is true that I had already
received this impression in Louis Philippe's time, during whose reign
it became quite the fashion in France to distinguish oneself in the
direction of excessively free and easy manners, and of abstention from
courtesy, especially towards ladies. Although it had become better in
this respect during the Second Empire, the tone in official and Court
society and the demeanor of the Court itself still remained below the
standard of the three great eastern Courts. Only in the Legitimist
circles aloof from the official world were things different both in
the time of Louis Philippe and in that of Louis Napoleon; there the
tone was faultless, courteous, and hospitable, with occasional
exceptions of the younger gentlemen spoilt by their contact with
Paris, who borrowed their habits not from the family but from the
club.
The Emperor, whom I saw for the first time during this visit to Paris,
gave me to understand in several interviews, but at that time only in
general phrases, his desire and intentions respecting a
Franco-Prussian alliance. His words were to the effect that these two
neighboring States, which by reason of their culture and their
institutions stood at the head of civilization, were naturally thrown
upon each other's assistance. Any inclination to express before me
such grievance as might arise from our refusal to join the Western
Powers was kept out of the foreground. I had the feeling that the
pressure which England and Austria exercised in Berlin and Frankfort
to compel us to render assistance in the western camp was much
stronger, one might say more passionate and rude, than the desires and
promises expressed to me in an amicable form, with which the Emperor
supported his plea for our understanding with France in particular. He
was much more indulgent than England and Austria respecting our sins
against occidental policy. He never spoke German to me, either then or
later.
That my visit to Paris had caused displeasure at the court at home,
and had intensified, especially in the case of Queen Elizabeth, the
ill-feelings already entertained towards me, I was able to perceive at
the end of September of the same year. While the King was proceeding
down the Rhine to Cologne to attend the cathedral building festival, I
reported myself at Coblentz and was, with my wife, invited by his
Majesty to perform the journey to Cologne on the steamer; my wife,
however, was ignored by the Queen on board and at Remagen.[33] The
Prince of Prussia, who had observed this, gave my wife his arm and led
her to table. At the conclusion of the meal I begged for permission to
return to Frankfort, which was granted me.
It was not until the following winter, during which the King had again
approached me, that he asked me once at dinner, straight across the
table, my opinion concerning Louis Napoleon; his tone was ironical. I
replied: "It is my impression that the Emperor Napoleon is a discreet
and amiable man, but that he is not so clever as the world esteems
him. The world places to his account everything that happens, and if
it rains in eastern Asia at an unseasonable moment chooses to
attribute it to some malevolent machination of the Emperor. Here
especially we have become accustomed to regard him as a kind of _génie
du mal_ who is forever only meditating how to do mischief in the
world.[34] I believe he is happy when he is able to enjoy anything
good at his ease; his understanding is overrated at the expense of his
heart; he is at bottom good-natured and has an unusual measure of
gratitude for every service rendered him."
The King laughed at this in a manner that vexed me and led me to ask
whether I might be permitted to guess his Majesty's present thoughts.
The King consented, and I said: "General von Canitz used to lecture to
the young officers in the military school on the campaigns of
Napoleon. An assiduous listener asked him how Napoleon could have
omitted to make this or that movement. Canitz replied: 'Well, you see
just what this Napoleon was--a real goodhearted fellow, but so
stupid!' which naturally excited great mirth among the military
scholars. I fear that your Majesty is thinking of me much as General
von Canitz thought of his pupils."
The King laughed and said: "You may be right; but I am not
sufficiently acquainted with the present Napoleon to be able to impugn
your impression that his heart is better than his head." That the
Queen was dissatisfied with my view I was enabled to gather from the
external trifles by which impressions are made known at court.
The displeasure felt at my intercourse with Napoleon sprang from the
idea of "Legitimacy," or, more strictly speaking, from the word
itself, which was stamped with its modern sense by Talleyrand, and
used in 1814 and 1815 with great success and to the advantage of the
Bourbons as a deluding spell.
* * * * *
III
THE EMS TELEGRAM
On July 2, 1870, the Spanish ministry decided in favor of the accession
to that throne of Leopold, Hereditary Prince of Hohenzollern. This gave
the first stimulus in the field of international law to the subsequent
military question, but still only in the form of a specifically Spanish
matter. It was hard to find in the law of nations a pretext for France
to interfere with the freedom of Spain to choose a King; after people in
Paris had made up their minds to war with Prussia, this was sought for
artificially in the name Hohenzollern, which in itself had nothing more
menacing to France than any other German name. On the contrary, it might
have been assumed, in Spain as well as in Germany, that Prince
Hohenzollern, on account of his personal and family connections in
Paris, would be a _persona grata_ beyond many another German Prince. I
remember that on the night after the battle of Sedan I was riding along
the road to Donchéry in thick darkness, with a number of our officers,
following the King in his journey round Sedan. In reply to a question
from some one in the company I talked about the preliminaries to the
war, and mentioned at the same time that I had thought Prince Leopold
would be no unwelcome neighbor in Spain to the Emperor Napoleon, and
would travel to Madrid _via_ Paris, in order to get into touch with the
imperial French policy, forming as it did a part of the conditions under
which he would have had to govern Spain. I said: "We should have been
much more justified in dreading a close understanding between the
Spanish and French crowns than in hoping for the restoration of a
Spanish-German anti-French constellation after the analogy of Charles
V.; a king of Spain can only carry out Spanish policy, and the Prince by
assuming the crown of the country would become a Spaniard." To my
surprise there came from the darkness behind me a vigorous rejoinder
from the Prince of Hohenzollern, of whose presence I had not the least
idea; he protested strongly against the possibility of presuming any
French sympathies in him. This protest in the midst of the battlefield
of Sedan was natural for a German officer and a Hohenzollern Prince, and
I could only answer that the Prince, as King of Spain, could have
allowed himself to be guided by Spanish interests only, and prominent
among these, in view of strengthening his new kingdom, would have been a
soothing treatment of his powerful neighbor on the Pyrenees. I made my
apology to the Prince for the expression I had uttered while unaware of
his presence.
This episode, introduced before its time, affords evidence as to the
conception I had formed of the whole question. I regarded it as a
Spanish and not as a German one, even though I was delighted at seeing
the German name of Hohenzollern active in representing monarchy in
Spain, and did not fail to calculate all the possible consequences
from the point of view of our interests--a duty which is incumbent on
a foreign minister when anything of similar importance occurs in
another State. My immediate thought was more of the economic than of
the political relations in which a Spanish King of German extraction
could be serviceable. For Spain I anticipated from the personal
character of the Prince, and from his family relations, tranquillizing
and consolidating results, which I had no reason to grudge the
Spaniards. Spain is among the few countries which, by their
geographical position and political necessities, have no reason to
pursue an anti-German policy; besides which, she is well adapted, by
the economic relations of supply and demand, for an extensive trade
with Germany. An element friendly to us in the Spanish government
would have been an advantage which in the course of German policy
there appeared no reason to reject _a limine_, unless the apprehension
that France might be dissatisfied was to be allowed to rank as one. If
Spain had developed again more vigorously than hitherto has been the
case, the fact that Spanish diplomacy was friendly toward us might
have been useful to us in time of peace; but it did not seem to me
probable that the King of Spain, on the outbreak of the war between
Germany and France, which was evidently coming sooner or later, would,
with the best will in the world, be in a position to prove his
sympathy with Germany by an attack on France or a demonstration
against her; and the conduct of Spain after the outbreak of the war
which we had drawn upon us by the complaisance of German princes
showed the accuracy of my doubt.
[Illustration: ADOLPH VON MENZEL KING WILLIAM'S DEPARTURE FOR THE
FRONT AT THE BEGINNING OF THE FRANCO-GERMAN WAR.]
The chivalrous Cid would have called France to account for
interference in Spain's free choice of a king, and not have left the
vindication of Spanish independence to foreigners. The nation,
formerly so powerful by land and sea, cannot at the present day hold
the cognate population of Cuba in check; and how could one expect her
to attack a Power like France from affection towards us? No Spanish
government, and least of all an alien king, would possess power enough
in the country to send even a regiment to the Pyrenees out of
affection toward Germany. Politically I was tolerably indifferent to
the entire question. Prince Anthony was more inclined than myself to
carry it peacefully to the desired goal. The memoirs of his Majesty
the King of Roumania are not accurately informed as regards details of
the ministerial coöperation in the question. The ministerial council
in the palace which he mentions did not take place. Prince Anthony was
living as the King's guest in the palace, and had invited him and some
of the ministers to dinner. I scarcely think that the Spanish question
was discussed at table. If the Duke of Gramont[35] labors to adduce
proof that I did not stand aloof from and averse to the Spanish
proposal, I find no reason to contradict him. I can no longer recall
the text of my letter to Marshal Prim, which the Duke has heard
mentioned; if I drew it up myself, about which I am equally uncertain,
I should hardly have called the Hohenzollern candidature "_une
excellente chose_": the expression is not natural to me. That I
regarded it as "opportune," not "_à un moment donné_," but in
principle and in time of peace is correct. I had not the slightest
doubt in the matter that the grandson of the Murats, a favorite at
the French Court, would secure the goodwill of France towards his
country.
The intervention of France at its beginning concerned Spanish and not
Prussian affairs; the garbling of the matter in the Napoleonic policy,
by virtue of which the question was to become a Prussian one, was
internationally unjustifiable and exasperating, and proved to me that
the moment had arrived when France sought a quarrel against us and was
ready to seize any pretext that seemed available. I regarded the
French intervention in the first instance as an injury, and
consequently as an insult to Spain, and expected that the Spanish
sense of honor would resist this encroachment. Later on, when the turn
of affairs showed that, by her encroachment on Spanish independence,
France intended to threaten us with war, I waited for some days
expecting that the Spanish declaration of war against France would
follow that of the French against us. I was not prepared to see a
self-assertive nation like Spain stand quiet behind the Pyrenees with
ordered arms, while the Germans were engaged in a deadly struggle
against France on behalf of Spain's independence and freedom to choose
her king. The Spanish sense of honor which proved so sensitive in the
Carlist question simply left us in the lurch in 1870. Probably in both
cases the sympathies and international ties of the Republican parties
were decisive.
The first demands of France respecting the candidature for the Spanish
throne, and they were unjustifiable, had been presented on July 4, and
answered by our Foreign Office evasively, though in accordance with
truth, that the _ministry_ knew nothing about the matter. This was
correct so far, that the question of Prince Leopold's acceptance of
his election had been treated by his Majesty simply as a family
matter, which in no way concerned either Prussia or the North German
Confederation, and which affected solely the personal relations
between the Commander-in-Chief and a German officer, and those between
the head of the family and, not the royal family of Prussia,
but the entire family of Hohenzollern, or all the bearers of that
name.
In France, however, a _casus belli_ was being sought against Prussia
which should be as free as possible from German national coloring; and
it was thought one had been discovered in the dynastic sphere by the
accession to the Spanish throne of a candidate bearing the name of
Hohenzollern. In this the overrating of the military superiority of
France and the underrating of the national feeling in Germany was
clearly the chief reason why the tenability of this pretext was not
examined either with honesty or judgment. The German national outburst
which followed the French declaration, and resembled a stream bursting
its sluices, was a surprise to French politicians. They lived,
calculated, and acted on recollections of the Confederation of the
Rhine, supported by the attitude of certain West German ministers;
also by Ultramontane influences, in the hope that the conquests of
France, "_gesta Dei per Francos_," would make it easier in Germany to
draw further consequences from the Vatican council, with the support
of an alliance with Catholic Austria. The Ultramontane tendencies of
French policy were favorable to it in Germany and disadvantageous in
Italy; the alliance with the latter being finally wrecked by the
refusal of France to evacuate Rome. In the belief that the French army
was superior the pretext for war was lugged out, as one may say, by
the hair; and, instead of making Spain responsible for its reputed
anti-French election of a king, they attacked the German Prince who
had not refused to relieve the need of the Spaniards, in the way they
themselves wished, by the appointment of a useful king, and one who
would presumably be regarded as _persona grata_ in Paris; and the King
of Prussia, whom nothing beyond his family name and his position as a
German fellow-countryman had brought into connection with this Spanish
affair. In the very fact that the French cabinet ventured to call
Prussian policy to account respecting the acceptance of the election,
and to do so in a form which, in the interpretation put upon it by the
French papers, became a public threat, lay a piece of international
impudence which, in my opinion, rendered it impossible for us to draw
back one single inch. The insulting character of the French demand was
enhanced, not only by the threatening challenges of the French press,
but also by the discussions in parliament and the attitude taken by the
ministry of Gramont and Ollivier upon these manifestations. The utterance
of Gramont in the session of the "Corps Législatif" of July 6:
"We do not believe that respect for the rights of a neighboring
people binds us to suffer a foreign Power to set one of its Princes
on the throne of Charles V. * * * This event will not come to pass,
of that we are quite certain. * * * Should it prove otherwise we
shall know how to fulfil our duty without shrinking and without
weakness"--this utterance was itself an official international threat,
with the hand on the sword hilt. The phrase, _La Prusse cane_ (Prussia
climbs down), served in the press to illustrate the range of the
parliamentary proceedings of July 6 and 7; which, in my feeling,
rendered all compliance incompatible with our sense of national honor.