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THE LIFE OF BISMARCK, PRIVATE AND POLITICAL.
“Mit Gott für König und Vaterland.”
[Illustration: COUNT OTTO VON BISMARCK.]
THE LIFE OF BISMARCK,
PRIVATE AND POLITICAL;
With Descriptive Notices of His Ancestry.
by
JOHN GEORGE LOUIS HESEKIEL,
Author of “Faust and Don Juan,” etc.
Translated and Edited,
With an Introduction, Explanatory Notes, and Appendices,
by Kenneth R. H. Mackenzie, F.S.A., F.A.S.L.
With Upward of One Hundred Illustrations by Diez, Grimm,
Pietsch, and Others.
New York:
Harper & Brothers, Publishers,
Franklin Square.
1870.
CONTENTS
EDITOR’S PREFACE. Page xv
Book the First.
THE BISMARCKS OF OLDEN TIME.
CHAPTER I.
NAME AND ORIGIN.
Bismarck on the Biese.—The Bismarck Louse.—Derivation of the
Name Bismarck.—Wendic Origin Untenable.—The Bismarcks in
Priegnitz and Ruppin.—Riedel’s Erroneous Theory.—The Bismarcks
of Stendal.—Members of City Guilds.—Claus von Bismarck of
Stendal.—Rise of the Family into the Highest Rank in the
Fourteenth Century. 31
CHAPTER II.
CASTELLANS AT BURGSTALL CASTLE.
[1270-1550.]
Rulo von Bismarck, 1309-1338.—Excommunicated.—Claus von
Bismarck.—His Policy.—Created Castellan of Burgstall,
1345.—Castellans.—Reconciliation with Stendal, 1350.—Councillor
to the Margrave, 1353.—Dietrich Kogelwiet, 1361.—His White
Hood.—Claus in his Service, while Archbishop of Magdeburg.—The
Emperor Charles IV.—The Independence of Brandenburg
threatened.—Chamberlain to the Margrave, 1368.—Subjection
of the Marks to Bohemia, 1373.—Claus retires into Private
Life.—Death about 1377.—Claus II., 1403.—Claus III. and
Henning.—Friedrich I. appoints Henning a Judge.—Ludolf.—His
Sons.—Pantaleon.—Henning III. _obiit circâ_ 1528.—Claus
Electoral Ranger, 1512.—Ludolf von Bismarck.—Electoral Sheriff
of Boetzow, 1513.—His Descendants. 36
CHAPTER III.
THE PERMUTATION.
[1550-1563.]
Changes.—The Electoral Prince John George and
Burgstall.—Forest-rights.—The Exchange of Burgstall for
Crevese.—Schönhausen and Fischbeck.—The Permutation completed,
1563. 50
CHAPTER IV.
THE BISMARCKS OF SCHÖNHAUSEN.
[1563-1800.]
Further Genealogy of the Bismarcks.—Captain Ludolf von
Bismarck.—Ludolf August von Bismarck.—His remarkable
Career.—Dies in the Russian Service, 1750.—Frederick William
von Bismarck.—Created Count by the King of Würtemberg.—Charles
Alexander von Bismarck, 1727.—His Memorial to his Wife.—His
Descendants.—Charles William Ferdinand, Father of Count Otto
von Bismarck. 57
CHAPTER V.
Armorial Bearings. 68
CHAPTER VI.
THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF BISMARCK’S BIRTHPLACE.
Genthin.—The Plotho Family.—Jerichow.—Fischbeck.—The
Kaiserburg.—The Emperor Charles IV.—The Elector
Joachim Nestor.—Frederick I.—General Fransecky “to the
Front.”—Tangermünde.—Town-hall.—Count Bismarck.—His Uniform,
and the South German Deputy.—Departure for Schönhausen. 77
CHAPTER VII.
SCHÖNHAUSEN.
The Kattenwinkel.—Wust.—Lieutenant Von Katte.—Schönhausen.—Its
History.—The Church.—Bishop Siegobodo.—Bismarck’s
Mansion.—Interior.—Bismarck’s Mother.—Bismarck’s
Birth-Chamber.—The Library.—Bismarck’s Youthful
Studies.—Bismarck’s Maternal Grandmother.—The Countess with the
Dowry.—Ghost Stories.—Anecdote of a Ghost.—The Cellar Door.—The
French at Schönhausen.—The Templars.—The Park.—The Wounded
Hercules.—The Pavilion.—Two Graves.—The Orangery.—The Knight’s
Demesne.—Departure from Schönhausen. 81
Book the Second.
YOUTH.
CHAPTER I.
SCHOOL AND COLLEGE DAYS.
Bismarck’s Parents.—Brothers and Sisters.—Bismarck
Born.—Kniephof, Jarchelin, and Külz.—The Plamann
Institute.—The Frederick William Institute.—Residence in
Berlin.—Bismarck’s Father and Mother.—Letter of Count Bismarck
to his Sister.—Confirmation.—Dr. Bonnell.—Severity of the
Plamanns.—Holiday Time.—Colonel August Frederick von Bismarck
and the Wooden Donkey at Ihna Bridge.—School-life with Dr.
Bonnell.—The Cholera of 1831.—The Youthful Character and
Appearance of Bismarck.—Early Friends.—Proverbs.—“Far from
Sufficient!” quoth Bismarck. 101
CHAPTER II.
UNIVERSITY AND MILITARY LIFE.
[1832-1844.]
Göttingen.—The Danish Dog and the
Professor.—Duels.—Berlin.—Appointed Examiner.—Anecdotes
of his Legal Life.—Bismarck and his Boots.—Meeting
with Prince, now King, William.—Helene von Kessel.—Aix
la Chapelle.—Greifswald.—Undertaking the Pomeranian
Estates.—Kniephof.—“Mad Bismarck.”—His Studies.—Marriage of
his Sister.—Letters to her.—Norderney.—Saves his Servant
Hildebrand’s Life.—“The Golden Dog.”—A Dinner Party at the
Blanckenburgs.—Von Blanckenburg.—Major, now General, Von
Roon.—Dr. Beutner. 123
CHAPTER III.
BETROTHAL AND MARRIAGE.
[1847.]
Falls in Love.—Johanna von Putkammer.—Marriage.—Meets King
Frederick William IV.—Birth of his First Child.—Schönhausen and
Kniephof with a New Mistress. 148
Book the Third.
LEARNING THE BUSINESS.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
“UT SCIAT REGNARE.”
Bismarck’s Policy.—Its Gradual Growth and Political
Character.—Contrast with Lucchesini.—Bismarck’s Open
Honesty.—Vassal and Liege.—Liberalism a Danger.—Democracy a
Danger.—The Relative Positions of Prussia and Austria in the
Federation.—Gerlach’s Ideal Conservatism. 157
CHAPTER II.
THE ASSEMBLY OF THE THREE ESTATES.
[1847.]
The February Constitution.—Merseberg.—First Appearance of
Bismarck in the White Saloon.—Von Saucken.—Bismarck’s First
Speech.—Conservatives and Liberals.—The First of June.—Jewish
Emancipation.—Illusions Destroyed. 165
CHAPTER III.
THE DAYS OF MARCH.
[1848.]
Rest at Home.—Contemplation.—The Revolution in Paris,
February, 1848.—Progress of the Revolutionary Spirit.—The
March Days of Berlin.—The Citizen Guard.—Opening of the
Second Session of the United Diet, 2d April, 1848.—Prince
Solms-Hohen-Solms-Lich.—Fr. Foerster.—“Eagle’s Wings and
Bodelswings.”—Prince Felix Lichnowsky.—The Debate on the
Address.—Speech of Bismarck.—Revolution at the Portal of the
White Saloon.—_Vaticinium Lehninense._—The Kreuzzeitung Letter
of Bismarck on Organization of Labor.—Bismarck at Stolpe on the
Baltic.—The Winter of Discontent.—Manteuffel. 178
CHAPTER IV.
CONSERVATIVE LEADERSHIP.
[1849-1851.]
The Second Chamber.—The Sword and the Throne.—Acceptance of
the Frankfurt Project.—The New Electoral Law.—Bismarck’s
Speeches.—The King and the Stag.—Birth of Herbert von
Bismarck.—“What does this Broken Glass Cost?”—The Kreuzzeitung
Letters.—The Prussian Nobility.—“I am Proud to be a Prussian
Junker!”—Close of the Session. 191
Book the Fourth.
ON THE VOYAGE OF LIFE.
CHAPTER I.
ON THE VOYAGE OF LIFE.
[1851-1859.]
Ambassador.—Interview with the King.—Lieut.-General von
Rochow.—Anecdotes.—Frankfurt.—Reception of the Prince of
Prussia.—Society at Frankfurt.—The King’s Birthday.—Position of
Prussia.—Correspondence. 217
CHAPTER II.
BISMARCK ON THE NEVA.
[1859-1862.]
Ambassador to St. Petersburg.—Illness.—Journey.—Hunting.—The
Coronation of William I. 280
CHAPTER III.
BISMARCK ON THE SEINE.
[1862.]
The Premiership ahead.—Ambassador to Paris.—Unveiling
of the Brandenburg Statue.—Uncertainty.—Delivers his
Credentials to Napoleon III.—Description of the Embassy
House at Paris, and of Prussia House, London.—Journey to
the South of France.—Trouville.—Bordeaux.—Bayonne.—San
Sebastian.—Biarritz.—Luchon.—Toulouse.—End of his Journeyman
Days. 310
Book the Fifth.
MINISTER-PRESIDENT AND COUNT.
CHAPTER I.
THE CRISIS.
The Crisis of 1862.—Bismarck Premier.—The Party of
Progress.—The Liberals.—The Conservatives.—Bismarck’s
Determination.—“_Voilà mon Médecin!_”—Anecdotes.—Attitude
of the Government.—Refusal of the Budget.—Prudence of the
Minister-President.—Official Presentation of Letters of
Recall at Saint Cloud. 331
CHAPTER II.
THE MAN AT THE HELM.
Negotiations with Austria.—Circular of the 24th of January,
1863.—Conversation with Count Karolyi.—Prusso-Russian
Convention.—The Party of Progress.—Congress of
Princes.—Conditions of Prussia.—War in the Distance.—The
Danish Campaign.—Treaty of Gastein, 14th August,
1865.—Bismarck elevated to the Rank of Count.—Bismarck and
Pauline Lucca.—Correspondence with his Family.—Hunting at
Schönbrunn.—Biarritz. 343
CHAPTER III.
THE GREAT YEAR, 1866.
Disputes with Austria.—The Central States.—Mobilization
of the Army.—Bismarck shot at by Kohn-Blind, 7th May,
1866.—Excitement in Berlin.—War Imminent.—Declaration.—The
King sets out on the Campaign.—Sichrow.—Jitschen.—Battle
of Sadowa, 3d July, 1866.—Bismarck with His Majesty on
the Battle-field.—Negotiations of Nicolsburg.—Treaty
of Prague.—Illness of Bismarck.—Consolidation of
Prussia.—Triumphant Entry of the Army into Berlin.—Peace. 382
CHAPTER IV.
MAJOR GENERAL AND CHANCELLOR OF THE FEDERATION.
Conversation with M. de Vilbort.—Appearance as Chancellor.—M.
Bamberger’s Views.—Bismarck as an Orator.—The Luxemburg
Question.—Fall from his Horse.—Citizenship of Bülow.—Visit to
Holstein.—Speech to a Torchlight Procession. 414
CHAPTER V.
A BALL AT BISMARCK’S.
Interior of Bismarck’s House at Berlin.—Arrival of Guests.—The
King.—The Queen.—The Royal Princes.—The Generals.—Committee of
Story-tellers in the Refreshment-room.—Supper.—The Ball.—Home. 431
CHAPTER VI.
BISMARCK’S HOUSE AT BERLIN.
Bismarck’s House in ordinary Costume.—Its History.—“Sultan
Uilem and Grand Vizier Bi-Smarck.”—“Bismarck, _grand homme_,
Bakschisch!”—The Cuckoo Clock.—Daily Habits.—Sunday at
Bismarck’s. 441
CHAPTER VII.
VARZIN.
Purchase of Varzin.—The Verandah.—The Park.—The name of
Bismarck famous.—House Inscriptions.—Popularity of Bismarck.—In
an Ambush of School-girls.—Conclusion. 448
APPENDIX A.
THE LEGEND OF GERTRUDE AND BISMARCKIAS. 459
APPENDIX B.
THE PRUSSIAN CONSTITUTION OF 1847. 461
ORDINANCE OF THE 3D OF FEBRUARY, 1847. 463
ORDINANCE ON PERIODICAL ASSEMBLING. 468
THE KING’S SPEECH—APRIL, 1847. 472
APPENDIX C.
ICH BIN EIN PREUSSE! 483
I AM A PRUSSIAN! 484
INDEX 487
LIST OF LARGER ILLUSTRATIONS.
_To face page_
COUNT OTTO VON BISMARCK (_Frontispiece_) 5
THE BISMARCKS OF OLD 36
Happy the man who ne’er forgets
The great and good who bore his name;
They honor him who honors them,
And emulates their fame.
BISMARCK’S FATHER (KARL WILHELM FERDINAND VON BISMARCK) 75
BISMARCK’S ARMORIAL BEARINGS 88
Lift the ancestral standard high,
The banners to the breeze be cast!
’Tis in the warnings of the Past
The sure hopes of the Future lie.
EARLY YOUTH 96
The opening buds betray the flowers,
The flowers the fruit betray;
The first note that we catch reveals
The spirit of the lay.
THE CRADLE 107
Stately, noble, and well founded,
And with beauty all surrounded,
Stand the old ancestral towers;
Stately, noble, and well grounded
In himself, with hopes unbounded,
See the son forsake those bowers
For the pathway that will lead him
To the troublous times that need him.
LEARNING THE BUSINESS 154
The master is born, not made,
But must learn the way to rule,
As the workman learns his trade,
And life must be his school:
He must give body and soul,
He must give heart and hand,
To his work, and must search out knowledge
Through many a foreign land.
COUNTESS VON BISMARCK-SCHÖNHAUSEN 181
ON THE VOYAGE OF LIFE 198
Count not such days as wasted;
The wanderer, as he goes,
Plucks many a flower of wisdom
That by the wayside grows.
BISMARCK’S ONLY SISTER (FRAU VON ARNIM) 238
A BALL AT BISMARCK’S 269
Beauty and strength, rank, fame, and power
Assemble in the festive hall,
To dance away the merry hour,
Or watch the gay scene from the wall.
BISMARCK AS CHANCELLOR 313
BISMARCK’S ESTATE IN FARTHER POMERANIA 354
The Bismarcks shall hold their domain till the day
When they from their haunts drive the herons away.
VICTORY 384
MAJOR-GENERAL AND CHANCELLOR OF THE CONFEDERATION 414
Before Prussia’s royal banner
Humbled is the Austrian’s pride;
On the field of victory
Is the statesman justified.
THE PARK AT VARZIN 451
EDITOR’S PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION.
The life of Count Bismarck has been so much misinterpreted, by interested
and disinterested persons, that it is thought the present publication,
which tells “a plain unvarnished tale,” will not be unwelcome. In these
days of universal criticism, no person is exempt from the carping mood
of the envious, or the facile unreasoning of the ready-made theorist.
Should we feel disposed to credit vulgar report, noble motives and heroic
lives are no longer extant in our present state of society. The eyes of
detractors are everywhere curiously—too curiously—fixed upon the deeds
of men of mark, and mingled feelings pull down from the pedestal of fame
every man who has ascended to the eminence awarded to the patriot and
statesman. Truly, such a condition of things bodes no good to the common
weal of society, either in England, Prussia, or in any part of Europe.
The present writer can see no utility in this practice of soiling the
reputations and actions of men who, by slow degrees, have worked their
way into positions of merit and mark.
The evil, however, does not wholly rest with the detractors. An
erroneous theory about universal equality gives the spur to this spirit
of criticism. A sort of feeling arises in the mind to the effect of,
“Had I been in his place, I should have acted otherwise!”—the bystander
proverbially seeing more of the game than the players. It is, however,
a great matter of doubt whether this is universally true. It might be
true, if every circumstance, every motive, every actuation, could be laid
bare to positive vision. In the conduct of life, however, this is rarely
possible, even in the crudest way; especially is it so in the intricate
and tortuous paths of politics. Politicians, we all know, are many;
statesmen, unfortunately for the well-being of the world, are few.
Some few years since England lost a statesman named Henry Temple,
Viscount Palmerston. He had the rare happiness of being popular during
his life, although it is perhaps more certain of him than of any modern
statesman, that his inflexibility as to issues was remarkable. Apparently
he would bend, but he had, upon fixed principles, determined to rule,
and his happy method of conciliation, in which he was clad as in a
garment, veiled from the eyes of friend or foe that wonderful spirit of
determination permeating all the actions characterizing his political
career. And when Palmerston died, a wild wail of sorrow arose from all
England, a regret which will never be abated so long as England’s history
remains intelligible.
Of similar materials to Palmerston, Count Bismarck is composed.
Otherwise put together, it is true, in accordance with the genius of
the nation amongst which his life-destiny has cast him; but as to the
generic likeness there can be little doubt. The policy of Palmerston was
“thorough;” so is that of Bismarck. But it is not the “thorough” of a
Strafford; it is rather the enlightened “thorough” of a man cast into
modern society, and intensely patriotic. Though Bismarck has consistently
upheld the prerogatives of his royal master, he has not been neglectful
of the interests of the nation of which he is the Minister. A spirit of
candor breathes through all his actions, and displays him in the light
of an emphatically honest man. Unlike the present remarkable occupant of
the French throne, he is not tided along by public events; nor, like that
potentate, does he extract fame from an adroit bowing to the exigencies
of the hour. The French sovereign has eliminated a policy, and gained a
kind of respect from others, in consequence of a masterly manipulation
of passing occurrences. The Prussian Premier, on the other hand, has
observed fixed principles. The latter has his political regrets—he can
shed a tear over the grave of the meanest soldier who died at Sadowa. The
former looks upon human life much as chess-players look upon pawns—to be
ruthlessly sacrificed on occasion, should it happen that a skillful flank
movement may protect the ultimate design in view. Chess-players, however,
know that the pawns constitute the real strength of the game, and that
it would be worse than folly to sacrifice the humble pieces. Political
sagacity is ever displayed in judicious reserve, and this quality is
eminently evinced in all Bismarck’s activity. Perhaps the most singular
triumph of Bismarck’s life consists in the neutralization of Luxemburg—an
episode in his career of which he has greater reason to be proud than
of the battle-field of Sadowa, or the indirect countenance afforded by
him to Italy. It can scarcely be doubted that so peaceful a victory is a
greater merit than the massing together of thousands of armed men, for
trying a right by ordeal of steel and gunpowder.
Astute as Napoleon may be, Bismarck certainly was wiser than he. The
former has dynastic reasons for maintaining a pre-eminence in the face of
Europe; but the latter, with comparatively inadequate means, had a far
more difficult problem to solve. For Bismarck has a heart large enough to
entertain feelings of kindliness towards the whole of Germany, as well as
towards that section of it known as Prussia alone. There is a generous
aspiration in him for German nationality, overruling petty animosity
towards his enemies.
In all his contests he has ever been ready to hold out the hand of
reconciliation, although, in no instance, has he deviated from the strict
line of duty pointed out by his special nationality. Indeed, it was a
paramount necessity to raise Prussia in the scale of nations, ere a
German nationality could emerge into healthy political being. Prussia’s
rise, therefore, comprehended within it the elements of German political
existence. Geographically, the consolidation of a great kingdom in the
north was a necessity; and considering how well and prudently Prussia
has used its great position, no one can regret the result of the events
of 1866. Prussia, as a Protestant country, as a land of education and
intellectual refinement, has no equal on the face of the globe. But that
single position depends on the race-character of the nation evinced in
its utilitarian spirit. Bismarck will perpetuate his policy in time to
come.
“Great acts,” says the old dramatist, “thrive when reason guides the
will.” This application of reason, so continuously, consistently, and
quietly exercised, predicates a great national future. That future
is bound up with the fame of this great loyal statesman and dutiful
subject, who has had insight enough to see how far the prerogative
of the crown of Prussia was consistent with the happiness of its
people, foresight enough to rationally contend for such prerogative,
and faithful courage adequate to the fearless execution of a grand
design, comprehending within itself elements of consolidation and
enduring strength. What Germany owes to Bismarck can as yet be scarcely
calculated, but very few years need elapse ere the sum will become
intelligible.
It is, however, necessary to descend from generalities into particulars;
to discuss, as briefly as may be, some objections that have been urged,
and to expose the fallacy of certain historical parallels, sought to
be drawn in reference to Bismarck’s position towards his king and his
country.
We have not to contrast Bismarck with any hero or statesman of antiquity.
Society, although not human nature, has so changed, that what our
modern men do for the common weal changes with the circumstances and
the extension of the circle of population. One man could then address
a nation—now the nation must rely upon Camarillas. Democracy, in these
days, either vaguely advocates desperate political experiments, or, stung
to madness by real or fancied wrongs, determines them—as hot-headed
non-thinkers usually determine—by violence.
Our modern Cleons use the press, which, truth to be spoken, is not
unwilling to be used; and hence any thing not to be twisted before the
law-courts into libel, represents the license and not the freedom of the
press. But the man of antiquity at least had to exercise the courage of
meeting his fellow-citizens, and thus either swayed them or was lost.
Assent or dissent was given by acclamation. Bismarck presents rather a
contrast than a likeness to Greek or Roman statesmen—they sought the
Agora or the Forum; he has no time for claptrap.
But let us turn to the political doctrine, partly known as that of divine
right, for which Bismarck has been thought to fight.
The doctrine of a divine right of possession to the Crown of Prussia
is one not readily comprehensible to an English subject, under the
circumstances of the modern constitution of the United Kingdom, for the
reason that modern society has accustomed itself to look upon the results
of the revolutions of 1649 and 1688 as final, and settled by events, and
the contract entered into between the parliament, or representative
body, on the one hand, and the constitutional sovereign on the other. We
may recur to an earlier period, when the crown was devisable by will in
England, or when at least the succession was settled in accordance with
the desires of a dying sovereign, for some kind of parallel. Although
this absolute right of leaving the crown by will has not often been
exercised, it has found its defenders; for instance, in the case of Queen
Jane, a minority held that Edward was justified in devising his crown;
therefore, while the theory was not actually substantiated by the right
of peaceable possession, it was not regarded as wholly illusory. If Henry
VIII. might by his prerogative bar certain members of his family from the
succession, the crown advisers of that day must have been justified in
supporting such a prerogative, and could not have regarded the sovereign
as _ultra vires_ in the matter of a transmission of the crown. It is
certainly, from the logic of facts, an impossibility to effect any such
change in the order of succession now, and in itself would be as fatal
a step as any political theorists could attempt; and if so fatal in a
country where feudalism is a mere historical eidolon, how far more unwise
in a country such as Prussia, where feudalism has still a practical,
though not an avowed, existence? In the very nature of things, the
sovereigns of Prussia hold their crown upon a principle of divine right,
as proprietors of the fee-simple of the soil, which divine right has ever
been construed to impose certain obligations towards their vassals, the
holders of the usufruct, and their subjects, agents, and traders—which
obligations, to their honor be it spoken, the sovereigns of Prussia have
ever attempted to fulfill. This divine right differs in its nature and
mode of action from the mere arbitrary will of a tyrant. There, as here—
“Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
But Harry, Harry.”
Their divine right to the soil, which they swear to defend, and seek to
improve, for the benefit of all, differs essentially from the divine
right as understood by a Charles Stuart. Fiscal arrangements are again of
a widely different character, and a vassal like Bismarck, who maintains
the prerogative of his sovereign liege, is merely carrying the legitimate
consequences of an enduring and progressive system, akin to, but not
identical with, ancient feudal theories, into action. It is clearly
false to seek a parallel in Charles and Strafford; the parallel would
be more just if drawn between Henry and Wolsey. But parallels are ever
suspicious, as the course of historical sequence is not identical, and
presents only delusive points of contact.
Any adequate explanation must be sought in another direction, and that
direction is best pointed out by the very essential features of Prussian
history itself. From this cause, a prominence, by no means undeserved,
has been assigned to the early history of the family whence Bismarck
sprang. In the brief sketch given in the first book, it may be plainly
seen that impulses of duty guided, and a kind of hierarchy of rank
sustained, the active energy in the vassal on behalf of the sovereign,
and that in fighting for the supremacy of the Prussian crown, Bismarck
was at the same moment upholding the real solidarity and ultimate rights
of the subjects of that crown. Surely by maintaining the rights of the
father against all comers—those rights held by the father in trust—the
interests of the children are best consulted.
For there is a mesne power between absolutism and republicanism, tyranny
and democracy; this is not constitutionalism. This is honor, higher than
all.
“The divinity that doth hedge a king,” from which a true king’s impulses
flow, must be founded on a higher instinct, and derived from a higher
plane. True kingship is very rare, often falls short of its standard in
the very best of men—for humanity has always its faults; but rightly
guided, it is possible, nay, probable, that the office of kingship
may be justly and nobly exercised. A constitutional monarch, although
irremovable, save by the process of revolution, can only be governed by
the impulses of the man himself, while an absolute sovereign may arrest,
correct, and mitigate much that is evil in the State. In civil affairs,
we require such an ultimate personage, one whose honor and self-respect
will be a sufficient safeguard against abuses. Any king not evidencing
that honor in his private life as well as public acts, is liable,
and justly so, to deposition; every king who faithfully performs the
difficult and delicate duties of his position, has a right to expect the
true and loving submission of his subjects. The combination of an honest
minister with a noble-minded king, however, is rare. In Frederick the
Second of Prussia, as to some extent in the first Napoleon, there was a
will to be honest; but where the latter failed in his task, the former
prevailed in the hearts of his people, and the admiration of the world.
Have we not the exquisite book of Mr. Carlyle as evidence of it? Real
statesmen know how infinitely difficult the problem of administration
must be, and hence it is that so many real wrongs are accidentally
committed, when the right is sought through the agency of unscrupulous
ministers. The axiom that the king can do no wrong, simply means that
if he inadvertently do a wrong, he is bound to repair it so soon as he
is possessed of the truth of the wrong. On this fact—and no polity is
built up with safety without resting on facts—is based the right of
petition, as well in oriental as in occidental countries. Now, here is
the political lever, nor is the stand-point far off. The king is bound
to do justice, because his position, being founded on divine right,
relies upon divine protection. In any country where God, under whatever
form, is honored, no king, conscious of his deep obligations for his
position, can hesitate to throw himself fearlessly into the midst of his
subjects, always regarding such monarch, as is the case in Prussia, as
the steward of the Unseen Governor of all. Legally and politically, the
king represents the ultimate court of appeal, and honestly fulfilling the
duties imposed upon him, no sovereign need fear, as in Prussia would be
absurd, the hand of the assassin. It is the everlasting curse entailed
upon large States, that for petty motives there exists an alarming
system of bureaucracy, in which the voices of the honest servants are
drowned in the din of the general throng for distinction, wealth,
ease, and enjoyment. Hence public servants, of whatever degree, fear
to speak; hence the public fumes, hence stoppage of trade, discredit
by capitalists, ultimate want of employment, lassitude of patriotism,
conspiracy, crime—with its load of expense—famine, and the fall of States
ensue.
Now, a practical king, conscious of his office, and ablebodied enough
to undergo the exertion, can be the greatest of philanthropists, if
supported by an honest ministry, fearless enough to repress undue
expenditure, either by his sovereign or the lieges. Wary to draw the
sword, eager to substitute the ploughshare, should such a monarch be;
and such a monarch we find in Prussia, and have found before. Fearless
and honorable should be his minister; and such a minister we find,
fortunately not without parallels, in Count Bismarck.
Bismarck had not only this abstract duty, as some may like to call it,
to perform towards his own sovereign. There was another duty of no less
importance and delicacy to fulfill as a German—as a member of the body
corporate of the Teutonic nation. Had Austria continued in its peculiar
position of pre-eminence, derived from an association of its rulers with
the extinct Holy Roman Empire, the real power of self-government would
have passed from the German nations to that mixture of Slavs and Czechs,
Huns, Magyars, and Poles, making up so large a proportion of Austrian
subjects; and could Prussia, emphatically German in all its regions, have
permitted a supremacy so at variance with—I will not say common sense—but
ethnical affinity? Is it not more in conformity with natural sympathy
that the German kindred races of the north should be consolidated in a
truly German national sense, than remain a loosely-constructed federation
of petty princedoms, under the guidance of a power whose main strength
lay in races alien, and even hostile, if we are to trust present events,
in their interests, instincts, and sympathies?
There was, of course, underlying all this, the cardinal fact of a
difference of religious sympathies. So eminently Roman Catholic, ruling
over nations outwardly, and perhaps sincerely, attached to the Papal
forms of ecclesiastical government and doctrine, Austria could not
hold out a faithful hand of fellowship to Protestant Prussia, with its
stern Calvinistic self-assertion: so attached to all that is ancient in
reference to birth, family tradition, and historical fame, Austria could
not but be jealous of a nation which had robbed it of its warlike glory,
and set up a new nobility in opposition to its ancient semi-oriental
princely families: so wedded to all that was archaic and statuesque in
form and stationary in its character, how was it possible to tolerate
a neighbor whose spirit is remarkable for its restless activity and
love of innovation; so practical in science and utilitarian in its
aims? A contest between two such powers, and in such a cause, and as a
consequence of such various processes of development, was inevitable,
while the ultimation of the strife could scarcely be doubtful. The
imperial nation, so proud, profuse, and old-fashioned, must receive a
lesson, intended in the utmost spirit of candor, from the patient,
practical, and untiring nation of North Germany, who looked upon its
sovereign and institutions with kindly affection, as the outcome of the
labors of their immediate fathers, and to the fruits of which those
subjects were honestly entitled. Nor, as having resided in both Prussia
and Austria, am I disposed to think that Prussian tendencies do not
receive hearty approval in the German sections of the Austrian people.
Let the events accompanying the siege of Vienna, in 1848, be properly
valued, and the fact is patent. The cowardice of Ferdinand is the key to
the history of that siege, as well as its justification.
We have not here, however, so much to do with the policy of the Prussian
people, and their relations towards Austria, as with a consideration of
the effects wrought upon Bismarck’s mind by his position, education,
personal character, and the events of his era. We here rather want to get
an intelligible picture of Bismarck himself—to learn why Bismarck is the
actual Bismarck he is, and not another Bismarck, as it were, altogether.
Let us therefore glance at his early life, and see how his strong,
daring, and somewhat headlong youth has gradually moulded him into the
astute, unbending, and progressive statesman we now see him to be in the
latter days of his remarkable life.
The first thing that strikes us must be his opportunities of birth and of
lineage. Education, it can not be doubted, is materially influenced by
these two considerations. An indulgent father and an ambitious mother may
help a lad along. Next comes the necessary process of estrangement; that
emergence into actual life from which so few come forth proudly; and,
finally, the attainment of self-consciousness, but without direction and
without an aim. This usually results, as with Bismarck, in an appreciable
amount of obloquy, from which the strong spirit desires emancipation.
In the case now in point, his aspirations of the better sort had the
mastery. Application to his distressed fortunes led him to think of
others, and while he tested other men he applied the same stern acid to
his own soul.
The empty affection of dissolutism assailed him, and he fled from it
with the disgust of a noble mind: he longed for a more exquisite grace
of beauty and dignity, and attained it. From that time forward he could
apply; the serious element in his nature obtained the upper hand, and he
perceived that life was not intended as a mere puppet scene. Patriotism,
one of the grandest impulses of human nature, led him to a recognition
of his duties as a man, and comforted in his domestic relations, he
stood for his king. He became the king’s man—to that fealty he vowed
himself, and that fealty he has nobly accomplished. He saw at once he
was the king’s man, but policy he had none. Policy, of whatever sort
it might prove to be, was yet to come; but the historical guide-line
of a relation between the highest post of dignity and his own rank,
fashioned it into a policy into which perforce the idea of aristocracy
necessarily entered. Had Bismarck not been so vehemently attacked at the
onset of his political and representative career, it is very probable
that the stout resistance he made would not have proved so strenuous.
But the attack was one which roused the dormant elements of his nature.
Very proud, like most of the Pomeranian and Brandenburg Junkers, he
resolved upon showing that his pride was not false, and was not so
greatly leavened with personal ambition as some tauntingly averred. But
it must be confessed that there is a vast difference between his early
speeches and his later policy—in itself a proof that his career was not
that of a political adventurer, resolved for notoriety at any price. The
crudeness of his earlier speeches has formed an absolute boon to his
opponents, who scarcely anticipated that a man who honestly cared for
the point at issue, rather than the airing of a more or less inflated
eloquence—seasoned with a philosophy of a very unpractical kind—was about
to enter into the political arena. Looking at Bismarck in his earliest
stages of development as a statesman, the present writer can not say
there was much beyond a general adhesion to the Prussian traditions to
recommend him. It is for this reason that certain documents have been
reprinted in the latter pages of this book, not furnished by the German
compiler. In these documents, appealing as they do to his family pride
as a liegeman, may be found the key of Bismarck’s subsequent violent
declaration on the side of the monarchy. “That a king should voluntarily
propose to set aside what, in my contract, inherent in my birth, with
that king, contravenes my family pride, makes me sorry for that king, but
vehement against his advisers. But being sorry, I must fight for him, or
his successors.”
Prussia was, like a nation or two more in Europe, in a “parlous state”
in 1848. But these days of March were a natural result of facts pressing
on the people: they passed, however. In those events, misunderstood even
at the present time—misunderstood as all revolutions must be—Bismarck
took no part save that of thinking that a replacement of the army by an
ununiformed corps was another insult to Prussia—and her lieges.
His political education had advanced to a point when it would either
resolve itself into a total abnegation of political activity, or an
aspiration towards some ameliorations of the matter in hand. This
signified itself, not by individual actions after a time, but rather
by the centralization of a party existing in fortuitous atoms into
clubs—adding the printing-press as a powerful aid.
Suddenly the ambassadorial post at Frankfurt was offered him.
Light-hearted and willing—to all appearance—he accepted it. The world
has yet to be made acquainted with the positive result of this Frankfurt
mission. That his instructions were accurate there can be little doubt,
and that all his energies were bent upon the humiliation of Austria as
the powerful rival of Prussia, is equally true. That his diplomatic
facility had at this time acquired any great amount of strength is
doubtful. He was an excellent host, and a sincere adviser; but it is
due to him rather again to cast away any delusion as to the diplomatic
grandeur of his actions—unless, which may be the case, honesty pure and
simple is diplomacy.
He therefore remained a good friend, a good host, a kind master, a most
loving husband and brother. Perhaps nothing in connection with the man
who has been thought so harsh, is so interesting as his care, his love,
not only for his own family, but for his humbler dependents. In his
correspondence, which really forms the feature of this volume, we find
the careful and truthful expression of a mind seeking to set itself
right with the world and its duties, and consistently adopting utter
straightforwardness as the efficient means to this end. In times of
trouble he sympathizes deeply with the bereaved; in seasons when most
aspersed he shows a firm reliance on the goodness of his cause, and his
innate sense of right; and he ever displays a confidence in the ultimate
realization of the object held in view.
The various letters written during seasons of holiday travel display a
keen delight in natural objects, and are written with a simple eloquence
denoting frankness and candor.
Before closing this Preface, already somewhat lengthy, it is perhaps not
out of place to refer to a recent review of the two first German sections
of this book, in the October number of the _Edinburgh Review_. The
reviewer will perceive that the blemishes to which he alludes have been
removed, so far as may be, from the text. Any one, acquainted with German
literature, is aware that its genius admits of the expression of many
simple _naïvetés_, very far from consonant with the dignity and spirit of
the English language. For these reasons a rearrangement and compression
of the earlier parts of the book has been effected, and notes have been
added of interest to the English reader, whose acquaintance with some
of the personages named would necessarily be limited. Nothing, however,
tending to illustrate the character and purposes of the chief personage,
has been omitted. So far as the materials could serve, a faithful picture
of Count Bismarck is here presented, and it is anticipated that the
Prussian premier will be seen to far greater advantage than through the
medium of the Edinburgh reviewer. That gentleman will perhaps forgive
the writer for differing from him in his general estimate of Bismarck’s
character. The estimate taken by the critic is very severe, and scarcely
just. It is also so curious that the writer can not refrain from
transcribing it here, that the reader may have both sides of the picture
before him.
“To govern,” says the critic,[1] “is, according to his ideas, to command,
and parliamentary government is to command with a flourish of speeches
and debates, which should always end in a happy subserviency with the
ruling minister. This arbitrary disposition is, of course, strengthened
by his success of 1866; but he will be grievously deceived in believing
that only stubborn resolution is wanted to triumph again. He is a man
of the type of Richelieu and Pombal; but this style of statesmanship is
rather out of place in our century, at least for obtaining a lasting
success.
“We can not, therefore, consider him as a really great statesman,
though he has certainly gifts of the highest order. He is a first rate
diplomatist and negotiator. No man can captivate more adroitly those
he wants to win; nobody knows better to strike at the right moment, or
to wait when the tide is running in his favor. His personal courage is
great, physically as well as morally; he shrinks from nothing conducive
to his end. He is not naturally eloquent; but his speeches are generally
impressive, and full of terse argument. He is a capital companion in
society—witty, genial, sparkling in his conversation. His private life
is pure; nobody has accused him of having used his high position for his
pecuniary advantage. It is natural that such qualities, backed by an
indomitable will, a strong belief in himself, and an originally robust
constitution, should achieve much. But by the side of these virtues the
darker shades are not wanting. We will not reproach him with ambition;
it is natural that such a man should be ambitious. But his ambition
goes far to identify the interests of his country with his own personal
power. Every thing is personal with him; _he never forgets a slight, and
persecutes people who have offended him with the most unworthy malice_.
His strong will degenerates frequently into absurd obstinacy; he is
feared by his subordinates, but we never heard _that any body loved
him_. Driven into a strait, his courage becomes the reckless daring
of the gambler, who stakes every thing on one card. _He can tell the
very reverse of the truth with an amazing coolness_; still oftener he
will tell the plain truth when he knows that he will not be believed.
He is a great comedian, performing admirably the part he chooses to
play. He knows how to flatter his interlocutors, by assuming an air of
genuine admiration for their talents; they leave him charmed by his
condescension, _whilst he laughs at the fools who took his fine words for
solid cash. His contempt of men is profound_; he dislikes independence,
though he probably respects it. _There is not a single man of character
left in the ministry or the more important places of the civil
service(!)._ Few things or persons exist at which he would not venture a
sneer.
“At present he has chosen to retire, for an indefinite period, from a
perplexing situation which he has himself created. Nobody can tell in
what direction he is going to steer his vessel. He likes to strike the
imagination of the public by sudden resolutions. Nobody can prophesy what
will be the final result of the great political experiment upon which he
has entered, for it depends on the working of so many different factors,
that even the boldest will scarcely venture to calculate the issue.”
Those passages italicized above form a specimen of the kind of attacks,
by no means honorably or reasonably made, upon Count Bismarck, and it is
somewhat lamentable to read, in the pages of so important a Review, views
quite incompatible with truth, and so calculated to sway the minds of
many who have little leisure to analyze historical phenomena.
Time has triumphantly cleared up much that seemed vaguely ominous in
Bismarck’s policy, and the progress of events will doubtless throw clear
light on that which still remains dark and unintelligible to those who
care little for light.
KENNETH R. H. MACKENZIE.
4 ST. MARTIN’S PLACE, TRAFALGAR SQUARE,
_6th December, 1869_.
Book the First.
THE BISMARCKS OF OLDEN TIME.
CHAPTER I
NAME AND ORIGIN.
Bismarck on the Biese.—The Bismarck Louse.—Derivation of the
Name Bismarck.—Wendic Origin Untenable.—The Bismarcks in
Priegnitz and Ruppin.—Riedel’s Erroneous Theory.—The Bismarcks
of Stendal.—Members of City Guilds.—Claus von Bismarck of
Stendal.—Rise of the Family into the Highest Rank in the
Fourteenth Century.
In the Alt Mark, belonging to the circle of Stendal, lies the small town
of Bismarck on the Biese. It is an old and famous place, for south of
the town stands an ancient tower, known as the Bismarck Louse. Tradition
states that the tower received its name from a gigantic louse which
inhabited it, and that the peasants of the district had every day to
provide huge quantities of meat for the monster’s food. In this legend
we can trace the popular spirit of the sober Alt Mark—it laughs at
the pilgrimages which were made in the thirteenth century to Bismarck
in honor of a holy cross, said to have fallen from heaven. These
pilgrimages, at first greatly encouraged by the lords of the soil, as
they found in them a rich source of income, soon came to a sanguinary
end, from the severe strife occasioned by these very revenues.
Bismarck does not, as some assert, derive its name from the Biese,
because in the year 1203, when it is first mentioned in the records,
it is called Biscopesmarck, or Bishopsmark, afterwards corrupted into
Bismarck. It belonged to the Bishops of Havelberg, who erected a fort
here as a defense of their Mark, on the frontiers of the Sprengels of
Halberstadt. From the little town the noble family of Bismarck has its
name.
It is a tradition of later times, by no means historically confirmed,
that the Bismarcks were a noble family of Bohemia, settled by Charlemagne
in the Alt Mark, and the founders of the town of Bismarck, which received
its name from them. It is further erroneously asserted, that the
Bismarcks, after the decease of the very powerful Count von Osterburg,
had shared the county with the family of Alvensleben; and thus the town
of Bismarck passed into the possession of the Alvenslebens.[2] This last
is only stated to account for the circumstance of the holding of Bismarck
in the fourteenth century as a fief by the Alvenslebens; it being
forgotten that in those days the title went with the office, and that a
county could not therefore be in the possession of two families.
As groundless is the tradition of the Wendic descent of the Bismarcks.
According to this, the actual name of this noble family should be
Bij-smarku, in Wendic, “Beware of the Christ-thorn.” Not very happily has
the double trefoil in the arms of the Bismarcks been identified with the
Christ-thorn—as a proof of their Wendic descent.
The Bismarcks are rather, as are all the families of knightly rank in
the Alt Mark, the descendants of German warriors who, under the Guelph,
the Ascanian, or other princes, had conquered the Slavic lands on both
banks of the Elbe for Christianity and German civilization, and had then
settled themselves on those lands as fief-holders. The Bismarcks belonged
to the warrior family of Biscopesmarck-Bishopsmark-Bismarck, and when
surnames came into use, called themselves after their dwelling-place—von
Bismarck. Of course, they retained the name after the loss or cession of
their original seat.
Like many other knightly families of the Alt Mark, the Bismarcks
gradually spread towards the East, conquering greater space for German
Christian culture, subduing the Wends or driving them back towards the
Oder. Thus the Bismarcks also appear, at the beginning of the fourteenth
century, as warrior knights in Priegnitz and the region of Ruppin.
We can not understand how a historian of such general intelligence as
Riedel, can object to this course of development, presenting so many
analogies in the series of other races of nobility in the Alt Mark.
According to this writer, it appears “credible and plausible” that the
chivalric race of Bismarck, found at the beginning of the fourteenth
century in the region of Priegnitz and Ruppin, should have descended
from the Castellans at Bismarck, who were provided with some territorial
fiefs on the downfall of the episcopal castle. “On the other hand,” says
Riedel, “those citizen families to be found in the cities of the Mark and
in Stendal, bearing the name of Bismarck, whence that branch arose, the
energy of which not only equalized the Von Bismarcks with the highest
nobility of the Mark, but has surpassed all of them, by the principles of
unprejudiced historical inquiry are proved to be self-distinguished, and
the descendants of plain citizens of the little town Bismarck, which had
flourished so well under episcopal protection.”
This is, however, an assertion supported by nothing, except, perhaps,
by an accidental negative—the circumstance that up to the present
time no seal has been found of the undoubtedly chivalric Bismarcks
in Priegnitz and Ruppin; for the identity of armorial bearings would
necessarily establish the common origin of the knightly Bismarcks, and
those of Stendal, beyond all question. But we do not understand Riedel’s
objection, as he does not deny that the Bismarcks entered the first rank
of the aristocracy of the Alt Mark in the same fourteenth century. It
would be almost puerile, by means of fantastic explanations respecting
the races bearing the name of Bismarck, to deprive the Minister of the
rank of Junker,[3] and thus claim him as a plebeian.
For if the Bismarcks of Stendal appear in the character of citizens
since the thirteenth century, it proves nothing as to their chivalric
descent, but may almost be used as an argument in favor of it. It is well
known and unquestioned that a whole series of knightly families have
settled themselves in towns, and taken part in municipal government, in
all places at first more or less patrician in character. Thus it fared
with the Bismarcks in Stendal, and not with them only, but with the
Schadewachts and other Alt Mark knightly races, members of which took
their places in the municipal government of Stendal. The Bismarcks were
then attached to the most distinguished, honorable, and influential
Guild of Tailors (cloth-merchants), because every inhabitant of a town
was obliged to belong to some guild. But to infer from this that the
Bismarcks were of citizen birth, would be as absurd as to deny the
nobility of the Iron Duke, the victor of Waterloo, because the Worshipful
Company of Merchant Tailors in London, as recognizing his fame, made him
free of their guild. It is in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, in
fact, and especially in the towns of the Marks, that we find the noblest
families—even the Margrave himself—associated with citizen guilds. At the
same time it mattered not at all whether such members occupied themselves
with the trade; for we are not, in this place, speaking of position, but
descent. And if the practice of handicrafts and commerce were not then,
as later, held to be incompatible with noble birth—although, in general,
the practice was uncommon—the descendants of noble houses, on leaving
the towns, naturally re-entered their own rank of territorial lords.
It is, therefore, explicable that Claus von Bismarck, Freeman of the
Guild of Tailors in Stendal, could step from that position into the first
rank of the Alt Mark nobility.
Riedel is also the only historian who, in contradiction to earlier and
later authorities, asserts the descent of the Bismarcks from a citizen
family in Stendal, instead of from the Castellans of the episcopal
castle of that name. Even, however, had he been able to determine this
beyond a doubt, it would not have proved the plebeian descent of the
Minister-President, but only that the nobility of his family reaches
no higher than the fourteenth century—in itself a sufficiently long
pedigree.
CHAPTER II.
CASTELLANS AT BURGSTALL CASTLE.
[1270-1550.]
Rulo von Bismarck, 1309-1338.—Excommunicated.—Claus von
Bismarck.—His Policy.—Created Castellan of Burgstall,
1345.—Castellans.—Reconciliation with Stendal, 1350.—Councillor
to the Margrave, 1353.—Dietrich Kogelwiet, 1361.—His White
Hood.—Claus in his Service, while Archbishop of Magdeburg.—The
Emperor Charles IV.—The Independence of Brandenburg
threatened.—Chamberlain to the Margrave, 1368.—Subjection
of the Marks to Bohemia, 1373.—Claus retires into Private
Life.—Death about 1377.—Claus II., 1403.—Claus III. and
Henning.—Friedrich I. appoints Henning a Judge.—Ludolf.—His
Sons.—Pantaleon.—Henning III. _obiit circâ_ 1528.—Claus
Electoral Ranger, 1512.—Ludolf von Bismarck.—Electoral Sheriff
of Boetzow, 1513.—His Descendants.
As the ancestor of the race of Bismarck, we find among the Bismarcks in
Stendal, where they had been known since 1270, a certain Rule or Rulo,
otherwise Rudolf von Bismarck, whose name appears in the records from
1309 to 1338. This personage was a respected member of the Guild of
Tailors, often its guide and master, as also a member of the Town Council
of Stendal.
In the sparse notices contained in the records concerning him, it appears
that Rule von Bismarck was held in high esteem for his prudence and
wealth. He represented Stendal in the most important negotiations with
princely courts, carried out political arrangements of every kind, and
in every position maintained a high status among his fellow-townspeople.
He is also to be regarded as one of the founders of the town schools in
Stendal, and met heavy opposition from the Nicholas Cathedral foundation,
which claimed the establishment of schools as its sole privilege.
But under his direction the Council maintained its plans as to the
establishment of city schools, and realized these despite of the ban
of the Church; probably this, the first Bismarck of whom we have any
knowledge, died an excommunicated man, for his long dispute with the
authorities was only accommodated at a much later period by his son. Rule
left behind him four sons, Nicholas I., commonly called Claus, Rulo II.,
known during his father’s life (and so called in the records) as Rulekin
(the little Rule); the others were John and Christian.
[Illustration: THE BISMARCKS OF OLD.]
The younger brothers soon fell into the background. Claus von Bismarck
was an individual of remarkable character, which, based upon the
honored name of the family, and the wealth he had inherited, aided him
in extending the sphere of his influence far beyond that of his town
circle. In testimony of respect to the memory of his father, he was
immediately assigned the councillor’s seat, vacant by his father’s
death. Claus, acting with great moderation, next distinguished himself
in settling the internal differences of the town, and reconciled the
Church with the memory of his father by large donations, and by the
establishment of a memorial festival. Very early in his career, however,
he occupied a singular and duplex political attitude. In the town,
with animation and wisdom, he headed the patrician element against the
democratic innovations of the lower guilds, and stood at the front of
the aristocratic conservative party in Stendal. But in the country he
sided more and more with the Margrave, at that time of Bavarian origin,
and gradually became one of the leaders of that patriotic Brandenburg
association, which sought to reunite the Marks, separated by the death of
Waldemar the Great, under one government.
The political activity of Claus von Bismarck in the fourteenth century,
offers many points of similarity to that of his descendant Otto von
Bismarck in the nineteenth century.
In his contest with the democratic party in Stendal, Claus von
Bismarck was not very successful. After a long and obstinate fight, the
aristocratic Guild of Tailors was worsted. The members of it, and among
them Claus von Bismarck, were driven out and banished. He now returned
to the country, where he possessed numerous estates, inherited from his
father; but he did not remain quiet. We see him in continued activity on
behalf of the Margrave Ludwig, for whom he conducted the most intricate
negotiations, and to whom he lent considerable sums of money.
The reward of his political assiduity was proportionate to its
importance. On the 15th of June, 1345, the Margrave granted the Castle of
Burgstall, one of the strongholds of the country, protecting the southern
frontier of the Alt Mark towards Magdeburg, to Claus von Bismarck and his
descendants, and their brothers, as a fief. Thus the Bismarcks entered
the first rank of the nobility of the Alt Mark, as Castellans.[4]
These Castellan families in the Alt Mark, although they could not claim
any right to a higher rank, formed a privileged class of the chivalric
nobility, which maintained itself by the possession of castles—then of
great importance for the defense of the country. The Castellans under the
Luxemburg dynasty, like the members of the Bohemian nobility, were called
_nobiles_, while other classes of the nobility were only denominated
“worshipful,” or _strenui_. They had ingress and precedence at the Diets
before the others, were not summoned to those assemblies by proclamation,
but by writ, and were immediately under the jurisdiction of the Land
Captain, while ordinary knights were subject to the Courts of Justice
of the province. Although the Castellans maintained a portion of these
rights to very recent times, they were never any thing more than Alt Mark
Junkers, whose families possessed some privileges beyond the rest.
Among the Castellans of the fourteenth century were the Von der
Schulenburgs, the Von Alvenslebens, the Von Bartenslebens, the Von
Jagows, the Von Knesebecks,[5] and the Von Bismarcks of Burgstall.
On the outbreak of the terrible storm which accompanied the appearance
of the pretender Waldemar—whose claims have, however, not yet been
disproved—Claus von Bismarck prudently withdrew himself, and awaited the
conclusion of these troubles at the Castle of Burgstall. It was the only
thing he could do, for, in the position of circumstances, he could afford
no assistance to the Bavarian Margrave, with whom he was intimately
connected, and on the general question he could give no decision, as the
person of Waldemar the Great had never been known to him.
About this time, 1350, a reconciliation took place between the banished
aristocratic party and the town of Stendal. Some of the members returned
thither, but Claus von Bismarck, as may be supposed, remained at
Burgstall; but it would appear that from that time forward he stood on
friendly terms with his native city.
In the year 1853, he became still more closely connected with the
Margrave, in the capacity of Privy Councillor; and in this post, which
carried no emolument with it whatever, he exhibited energy of such a
wise character that Bismarck’s government, despite of the wretched and
sorrowful state of things at the time, bore rich fruits, not only for the
Alt Mark, but for miserable Brandenburg in general.
In the year 1361, Claus quitted the service of Brandenburg for that
of the Archbishop of Magdeburg, in consequence of his near relative,
Dietrich von Portitz, known as Kagelwiet or Kogelwiet—_i.e._, White Kogel
or hood—having ascended the archiepiscopal throne of St. Moritz.[6]
Dietrich von Portitz, whose relationship to Claus is unquestionable, but
whose precise affinity is not clear, was a native of Stendal. He had
embraced the ecclesiastical profession, and had shown such a genius for
government, even as a monk at Lehnin, that the Bishop of Brandenburg,
Ludwig von Neiendorff, intrusted him with the administration of his
diocese, much to his own advantage. The Emperor, Charles IV., early
recognized the importance of this man; created him Bishop of Sarepta
and Chancellor of Bohemia, subsequently procured him the Bishopric of
Minden, and finally the Archbishopric of Magdeburg. The cognomen of
Kagelwiet or Kogelwiet this distinguished person received from a castle
of this name in Bohemia, but according to some, from the white hood
which he had assumed in orders at Lehnin. A tradition asserts that the
Bohemian magnates, envious of the eminence of the Chancellor, accused
him of fraud, and referred the Emperor to the iron chest which stood in
Dietrich’s private chamber. When Charles IV. had this chest opened by
Dietrich, there was only found within it the monk’s frock, the white hood
of Brother Dietrich of Lehnin.
[Illustration]
As to the relationship between the Archbishop Dietrich Kogelwiet and
Claus Bismarck, it must be admitted that it has not been clearly
established by the records. But we think we do not err in assuming
that Dietrich Kogelwiet was also one of the Bismarcks of Stendal of
the same family as Claus von Bismarck. He certainly is called Dietrich
von Portitz, but we must not consider this singular in an age when
brothers even existed with different surnames; and, on the other hand,
an identical name by no means establishes any relationship, or places it
beyond doubt.
Common armorial bearings were a much surer index to family affinity
between their wearers than identical names. We can not, as before stated,
absolutely prove from the records that the Archbishop Dietrich Kogelwiet
was a Bismarck: it may be decided by later researches, but there are
several reasons for considering this to be the case. There was no family
of Portitz at Stendal, to claim the Archbishop, as a scion of their
house—an important fact, as the birthplace of Dietrich is ascertained to
have been Stendal.
When Dietrich Kogelwiet entered on the government of the Archbishopric
of Magdeburg, he immediately summoned his relative, Claus Bismarck, to
assist in his administration. Such an invitation might have been the
more welcome, in consequence of the hopeless condition of the Margrave’s
affairs. It must not be forgotten that Claus was not only a vassal to
Brandenburg, but to Magdeburg, and was connected by blood and friendship
with many members of the Cathedral community.
Thus Claus von Bismarck, in conjunction with the knight Meinecke von
Schierstaedt, became General Commandant of Magdeburg. The duties were
so shared between them that Von Schierstaedt fulfilled the office of
Minister of War, while Von Bismarck was Minister of the Interior and of
Finance. Foreign affairs, and especially those relating to Brandenburg,
the Archbishop had reserved for himself—why, we shall presently see.
We must not, however, regard the various duties in those days as so
clearly defined as in a modern government; the distinctions were less
obvious, and thus we see Claus von Bismarck in many a battle-field,
fighting bravely beside Schierstaedt. Dietrich Kogelwiet and his two
chief servants, in fact, carried on a really model government. In the
course of a few years the very considerable debts of the Archbishopric
were liquidated, estates pawned or wholly alienated were redeemed, and
the security of the subjects of the See fixed in a manner rarely known
in Germany at that era. Bismarck’s constant care was devoted to the
protection of the peasantry against the frequent outbreaks, usually
ending in the plunder or destruction of property; for his clear insight
had perceived that the safety of the life and property of the subject was
bound up with that of the liege lord’s income—apparently a secret to most
rulers of that time.
Thus this six years’ administration of the See by Bismarck became a great
blessing to it, and Dietrich Kogelwiet recognized the fact by implicit
confidence, although—a very remarkable circumstance, impossible at the
present day—he was opposed to Bismarck in his foreign policy.
The politic Emperor Charles IV. had especially seated his Bohemian
Chancellor upon the archiepiscopal throne of St. Moritz, with the
absolute intention of securing in him an efficient co-operator in his
extensive plans. Dietrich Kogelwiet was to aid in the conquest of the
Mark of Brandenburg for the great Bohemian empire which Charles IV.
sought to erect from Lübeck to the coast of the Adriatic for the house
of Lützelburg. Dietrich Kogelwiet had from of old been a chief supporter
of these aims, and, as Archbishop of Magdeburg, he succeeded only too
well, considering the weakness and poverty of the Bavarian Margrave,
in ensnaring him and bringing him into relations which rendered him an
unconditional and very abject dependent of the Emperor. At the death
of the Archbishop, after a reign of six years, the independence of
Brandenburg was lost, and the councillors of the Margrave consisted of
imperial servants alien to Brandenburg.
Claus von Bismarck held utterly aloof from this policy of his chief, for
his Brandenburg patriotism desired the maintenance of the independence of
the Marks. He saw no safety in the division of his native land, and its
final subjection to the crown of Bohemia. Despite of these differences,
the Archbishop held fast to his “dear uncle”—a designation applied in
those days as cousin is now—bequeathed to him the greater part of his
wealth, appointed him his executor, and a member of the interregnum
provided to exist until the enthronement of his successor in the See.
When Bismarck had acquitted himself of his duties towards the Church
of Magdeburg, and had overcome the many obstacles towards a settlement
of the inheritance of Dietrich Kogelwiet, he did what he had probably
long since designed. He returned to the service of the Margrave of
Brandenburg. This step can only be explained by the high patriotism which
actuated this excellent man. For himself he had nothing to gain by such a
step, and he must have been aware of the sacrifice he was making, for the
affairs of the Margrave at that time were in the utmost confusion, and
in a ruinous condition. The national income had long been anticipated,
money was rare, and the partially justified concurrent government of the
imperial councillors seemed to render it impossible to save the autonomy
of Brandenburg.
The Emperor Charles, to whom Bismarck’s conduct was sufficiently
intelligible, sought with great pains to win him to his party, but in
vain. The faithful Alt Mark Junker, in 1368, became administrator of the
Margrave’s government in the capacity of Chamberlain, and conducted his
patriotic labor with such energy and wisdom, that by the October of that
year the imperial councillors placed about the Margrave were dismissed,
and their posts entirely filled by Brandenburgers of Bismarck’s party.
In this new Council there sat Dietrich von der Schulenburg, Bishop of
Brandenburg, the noblest prelate in the land; Count Albert von Lindau,
Lord of Ruppin, the chief vassal of the Margrave; Bismarck himself was
Chamberlain for the Alt Mark; Marshal Sir Lippold von Bredow for the
Middle Mark; and Justice Otto von Moerner represented the New Mark.
Bismarck and his friends now actively promoted the safety of Brandenburg
independence by every means in their power during a period of five years.
Bismarck was the soul of this patriotic struggle against the policy and
rapacity of the mighty Emperor. His wisdom and energy were visible in
every department of the State; his immense wealth he freely sacrificed in
every direction; and the results were so important that they forced the
disconcerted Emperor to a measure which even Bismarck had not been able
to foresee as a wholly unexpected proceeding.
The politic Charles, who had never speculated upon an appeal to arms, and
who depended on the cunning, of which he was so great a master, before
displayed in his counsels, suddenly seized the sword. He perceived that
he was unable to outwit Bismarck, and was compelled to emerge from his
lair and break up the independence of Brandenburg by force. Bismarck
could not oppose his mighty army, and thus by the treaty of Fürstenwald
the independence of Brandenburg was lost, on the 13th of August, 1373;
the Marks fell into the hands of Bohemia.
After this destruction of his patriotic plans, Claus von Bismarck retired
into private life, most probably to Burgstall; but the proximity of the
great Emperor, who held his court at Tangermünde, forced him to retreat
from the former place. Neither Claus nor his sons ever served the house
of Lützelburg. He then retired to his native city of Stendal, and
occupied himself with religious duties and the affairs of the Hospital
of St. Gertrude, which he had founded at the Uengling Gate of Stendal
in 1370. Probably this foundation again embroiled the aged man with the
ecclesiastical authorities during his closing years, and he seems to have
died in excommunication, like his father. We do not know either the year
of the birth or death of this illustrious and patriotic man. He appears
first in the records in the year 1328, and we lose sight of him in 1377.
He is buried at Burgstall, with the simple inscription, “_Nicolaus de
Bismarck miles_” on the tomb. He bequeathed to his sons a fortune of
great amount in those days—consisting of lands, treasures, and ready
money.
These sons, Rule, Claus II., and John, with the patriotic spirit of
their father, held aloof from the Emperor Charles IV., despite of all
the efforts he made to draw the rich and illustrious possessors of
Burgstall to the Court at Tangermünde. Claus became a knight, and is
thence mentioned in precedence of his elder brother Rule in the records,
from the year 1376. Rule died without heirs; the knight Claus alone
left any family, and died in 1403. The third brother, John, became an
ecclesiastic, and was still living in 1431.
The sons of the knight Claus were respectively named Claus III., and
Henning. They inhabited Burgstall in common, but in consequence of a
dispute with the Chapter of the Cathedral of St. Nicholas, in Stendal,
they were excommunicated; but they do not appear to have suffered much in
consequence, as public opinion had long since declared against the abuse
of excommunication common with the Churchmen. Claus and Henning were
brave but peaceable individuals, who had a most difficult position to
maintain during the bloody feuds and endless fighting of that convulsed
age. The brethren Bismarck were the first among the nobility of the Alt
Mark to take the part of the Burgrave Frederick von Nürnberg, regarding
that great prince as the saviour and deliverer of the Marks.
Frederick I. seems also to have had confidence in the Bismarcks, for in
1414 he appointed Henning one of the judges in the great suit of felony
against Werner von Holzendorff,[7] who occupied, in the capacity of the
Margrave’s captain, the castle Boetzow—now Oranienburg—and had betrayed
this castle to Dietrich von Quitzow.[8] Claus on his part served the
electoral prince in pecuniary matters, but he died in 1437, and his
brother Henning had preceded him to the grave by ten years.
As Henning’s only son Ruloff had died in his youth without issue, the
sons of Claus alone succeeded to the property. Their names were Ludolf,
Heide (Heidrich), and Henning. They inherited that love for country life
and the pleasures of the chase peculiar to the Bismarcks. These brothers
improved and increased the condition of the house, which seems to have
suffered amidst the strife of the evil days of previous generations. The
time of Ludolf’s death is unknown; Heide was living in 1489; Henning died
in 1505—his wife was Sabine von Alvensleben.
The male heirs of Ludolf and Henning divided the property of their
fathers, but preserved much in common—the residence of Burgstall Castle
among the rest.
The four sons of Ludolf were Günther, Ludolf, George, and Pantaleon.
They were ennobled, together with their cousins, in 1499, by the Elector
Joachim I., but the two elder brothers soon died without male heirs,
and the third brother, George, was childless; it does not appear that
he was ever married. Pantaleon alone left a son, Henning III., by his
wife Ottilien von Bredow, who died before 1528, leaving four sons
behind him—Henry, Levin, Frederick, and Laurence. Levin and Laurence
soon disappear from the records, and Henry, married to Ilse from the
Kattenwinkel, and Frederick, wedded to Anna von Wenckstern, appear as
the representatives of the elder stock of Ludolf. All these Bismarcks
lived in peaceful retirement, on the best terms, at Burgstall, with their
cousins of the younger Henning-branch of the family.
Henning II. and his wife Sabine von Alvensleben had as sons, Busso,
Claus, Dietrich, and Ludolf. Dietrich and Busso dying in early youth,
Claus became in 1512 the Electoral Ranger of the great estate of
Gardelegen (the forests of Jävenitz and Letzling). The rangers were in
those days high officials (chief foresters); the title, however, they did
not obtain until the time of King Frederick William I., with considerable
privileges. The foresters were then literally called heath-runners
(_Haide-läufer_)—rangers, in fact.
Ludolf von Bismarck in 1513 became Electoral Sheriff of Boetzow, the
present Oranienburg. His activity appears to have been applied to the
protection of the Electoral game preserves. Ludolf was reckoned one of
the best horsemen and warriors of his era, although we do not learn any
thing respecting his prowess. He seems to have been very active in the
establishment of the militia of the Alt Mark, and died in 1534. His wife,
Hedwig von Doeberitz, long survived him. In the year 1543, the Elector
Joachim owed her a thousand thalers, and she was still alive in 1562.
Ludolf’s sons were Jobst, Joachim, and George.
Joachim was killed at the siege of Magdeburg, at which he was present
with his brothers. Jobst married Emerentia Schenk von Lützendorf. George
married Armengard von Alvensleben.
We thus see the castle of Burgstall in the middle of the sixteenth
century inhabited by two pairs of brothers, with four households; Henry
and Frederick representing the elder or Ludolf branch of the Bismarcks,
and Jobst and George the younger one through Henning. Ludolf’s widow also
resided at Burgstall.
CHAPTER III.
THE PERMUTATION.
[1550-1563.]
Changes.—The Electoral Prince John George and
Burgstall.—Forest-rights.—The Exchange of Burgstall for
Crevese.—Schönhausen and Fischbeck.—The Permutation completed,
1563.
Doomed to a sorrowful termination was the peaceful life of the family of
the Bismarcks at Burgstall. All the Bismarcks were eager sportsmen, and
there was no spot in the whole of the Brandenburg country better adapted
for sport than their castle, situated in the midst of the great preserve
of Gardelegen, the woods of the Tanger, and of the Ohre.
These preserves were not only the most considerable, but also the most
well-stocked in the Marks; and although only a small portion belonged
to the Bismarcks, they enjoyed forest privileges conjointly with their
neighbors to the fullest extent. It was not remarkable, therefore, to
find the Castellans of Burgstall “mighty hunters;” but a still mightier
hunter was destined to overwhelm them, and compel them to give up their
privileges in forest and moor.
[Illustration]
Every one of the descendants of the great Frankish prince, the Burgrave
Frederick von Nürnberg—all the powerful Electors and noble Margraves of
Brandenburg—were considerable sportsmen. They had early perceived that
no place was more convenient than Burgstall Castle, when they desired to
hunt near the Tanger, through the forest of Gardelegen, the Drömling, and
other preserves of the Ohre. They often visited their trusty vassals at
Burgstall, and for weeks together were welcome guests of the Bismarcks,
whose wealth could well maintain the expensive hospitality of princely
guests. The Electors John Cicero and Joachim Nestor were frequently at
Burgstall. We know that the Bismarcks were one of the first families
of the country, allied to the new Frank rulers; even at a later time
the Bismarcks were proud of their loyalty to their liege lords; but the
intimate personal relations which the Bismarcks maintained with the
Electors John Cicero, Joachim Nestor, Joachim Hector, and the Electoral
Prince and Margrave John George, engendered feelings of personal
affection and respect, far surpassing the ordinary loyalty of vassals.
This has to be remembered when it is sought to understand the events
which took place in 1562 among the Bismarcks in their right light.
When the hunt-loving Electoral Prince, the Margrave John George,
became administrator in the year 1553 for his youthful son, the
postulated Bishop of the See of Havelberg, he followed the chase more
enthusiastically than ever, and founded the hunting-box in Netzlingen,
purchased from the Alvenslebens in 1555, known as Letzlingen. In order
to establish wider preserves for the new edifice, he everywhere attacked
the privileges of the Bismarcks; and his object was to abridge or to
abrogate their forest rights in all directions. The Bismarcks, known to
us as zealous sportsmen, did not wish to dispose of their forest rights;
their position at Burgstall did not admit of pecuniary compensation; but
they, nevertheless, from a feeling of respect for the Electoral Prince,
consented to a treaty which considerably circumscribed their privileges,
much to their disadvantage. This treaty was signed at Zechlin, on the 1st
July, 1555, in person, the Prince residing at that place. They asked for
no compensation from the Prince, but allowed him to fix it as he pleased,
accepting without a murmur a deed acknowledging a debt of three thousand
_gulden_, a sum by no means representing the amount of their loss. By
this sacrifice they purchased peace, however, for but a very short time;
for while the differences continued between the Margrave’s huntsmen and
those of Bismarck, the Electoral Prince could not but perceive that
the Castellanship of Burgstall stuck like a wedge in the centre of his
preserves. He desired to have the entire control from Letzlingen, where
John George habitually held his court, to the castle of Tangermünde;
hence it was necessary to dispossess the Bismarcks of Burgstall.
This honorable and faithful family suffered deeply, when, in the
beginning of the year 1562, the Electoral Prince proposed to them to
exchange Burgstall for other lands. He first offered them the convent of
Arendsee; but the Bismarcks, who could not, at first, contemplate the
resignation of their ancient family-seat, declined to this procedure.
The affair was of such an unusual character that it created the greatest
excitement. Even the Chapter at Magdeburg, to whom the Bismarcks were
lieges for several possessions at Burgstall, was set in commotion. They
dreaded an enlargement of the boundary of Brandenburg, beyond this
purchase of Burgstall, to the detriment of the archiepiscopate. The
Archbishop of Magdeburg, the Margrave Sigismund, and brother of the
Electoral Prince, also wrote, apparently at the instance of his Chapter,
to him, “that he hoped he would desist from his intention, and leave the
Bismarcks in peaceful possession of their lands, and allow other folks to
have a hare, a buck, or a stag.”
John George, however, was not the man to be so easily dissuaded from his
purpose. He continued to ply the Bismarcks with propositions of exchange,
which they as steadily rejected, being unwilling to resign Burgstall. But
their rejection was of no advantage to them, for their loyal principles
were outraged at this difference with their liege lord; and, besides, it
became very evident to them that the Electoral Prince had no intention
of abandoning his plans. If the brothers and cousins Von Bismarck had
possessed a spark of speculation, they might, under the circumstances,
have obtained compensation of such magnitude as to have formed an
enormous revenue for their house; but such thoughts were remote from
these loyal and simple-minded country Junkers.
The Electoral Prince, who knew his men, employed measures which he saw
must lead to his object without fail. On the 12th of October, 1562, he
wrote, from Letzlingen, a letter in very ungracious terms, in which he
gave up his project of exchange in the greatest anger, but allowed a
whole series of minor difficulties to become apparent for the future.
The Bismarcks replied in a highly respectful manner, and reminded the
Electoral Prince, in almost touching accents, “that their ancestors and
themselves had for a long time sat worthily under the Electoral Princes,
had served them with blood and substance willingly, and testified
themselves to be honest, upright, and true subjects, and would willingly
have met the estimable Elector and Prince, the Margrave of Brandenburg,
in these very matters; although they might be forgiven for hesitating at
an exchange which would transport their ancient race to other places,
and they would prefer to remain in their ancestral seat, granted them by
Almighty God, rather than idly to depart therefrom.”
This letter, however, was the limit of the powers of the Bismarcks.
The Electoral Prince had taken his measures only too well. There now
ensued very active and weighty negotiations as to the compensation to
be given for Burgstall. This was not easily to be found, and these
negotiations prove, as also their final result, that the Bismarcks agreed
to the surrender of Burgstall out of respect to the Prince, and from an
apprehension of setting themselves in actual hostility to the authorities
as the result of any further refusal.
The representatives of the elder race—Henry and Frederick—first
assented, and took for their shares in Burgstall the Abbey of Crevese, a
foundation of Benedictine nuns. The income of this property, with all its
appurtenances, did not amount by far to those enjoyed by the brothers in
Burgstall; but no better estate could be found, and the Prince therefore
commanded the payment of considerable sums in satisfaction—not, however,
exceeding the moderate amount of two thousand _thalers_.
[Illustration]
The ladies of the house of Bismarck seemed even more disconsolate at the
loss of Burgstall than the men. To terminate their lamentations, the
Prince allowed each of them the sum of one hundred _gulden_.
The representatives of the younger branch—Jobst and George von
Bismarck—were still more unfortunate. They hesitated longer than their
cousins, not from want of will, but because the proffered compensation
was still more incommensurate with what they lost. But at last, moved
by the instances and promises of the Prince, they agreed to accept
Schönhausen and Fischbeck.
[Illustration]
On the 14th December of the year 1562, all the Bismarcks had met together
at Letzlingen with the Prince, and the agreements were here executed
by which they surrendered Burgstall for Crevese and Schönhausen. The
grandchildren of the first Claus von Bismarck might well be sorry
at this surrender. The exchange expressly excluded the Hospital of
St. Gertrude at Stendal, as well as their possessions at Wolmirstädt,
Burg, and other remote places in the Archbishopric of Magdeburg. The
Permutation, as it was called, did not alter the vassaldom of the
Bismarcks; they continued to be lieges of Magdeburg for the fiefs
abandoned with Burgstall, and vassals of Brandenburg, as before,
belonging to the Alt Mark nobility in respect of Schönhausen and
Fischbeck.
The Bismarcks still remained a very considerable family after the
permutation, but their original position was lost by the cession of
Burgstall, and their former wealth much decreased. That the permutation
also had its effect in manifold ways on the character of the family can
not be denied. It was a great sacrifice to bring to the governing house,
although the Bismarcks very likely under-estimated the magnitude of their
sacrifice.
By the Easter of 1563 the Bismarcks had quitted Burgstall, and taken
possession of Crevese. The Electoral Prince had hurried their departure
in consequence of the breeding season of the game and the advance of
spring. On the third day after Easter he granted them Schönhausen, in the
name of his son, the Bishop of Havelberg, having obtained the consent of
the Chapter on the previous day.[9]
CHAPTER IV.
THE BISMARCKS OF SCHÖNHAUSEN.
[1563-1800.]
Further Genealogy of the Bismarcks.—Captain Ludolf von
Bismarck.—Ludolf August von Bismarck.—His remarkable
Career.—Dies in the Russian Service 1750.—Frederick William
von Bismarck.—Created Count by the King of Würtemberg.—Charles
Alexander von Bismarck, 1727.—His Memorial to his Wife.—His
Descendants.—Charles William Ferdinand, Father of Count Otto
von Bismarck.
Of the four families of the race of Bismarck, who quitted Burgstall at
the Easter of 1563, three had perished in the male line in the first
generation; the youngest branch had completely died out with Jobst and
George; and in the elder, Henry had left behind his only daughter, Anna
Ottilie, who married Fritz von der Schulenburg at Uetz. Frederick alone
perpetuated the race, and all the property of the elder and younger
branches at Crevese and Schönhausen fell to his line. He was known in
early days as the Permutator. Perhaps he had represented his family in
the negotiations with the Electoral Prince respecting Burgstall; we have
seen that the two brothers of the elder line preceded the younger ones
in conceding the property. But the designation is unfitting, as he was
rather permutated (bartered) than a permutator.
On his death in 1589, he left behind him, by his marriage with Anna von
Wenckstern, three sons and a daughter. The race of the youngest son,
Abraham, and of his wife Anna Schenck von Flechtingen, perished in the
next generation. The second son, Pantaleon, married to Anna von der
Schulenburg, is the ancestor of the flourishing and numerous branches of
the Bismarcks of Crevese.
The Schönhausen branch was continued by Frederick’s eldest son, the
Captain Ludolf von Bismarck. In 1560 he joined in a campaign against the
Turks under the command of Wolff Gleissenthaler, who commanded a troop of
1,300 horse in the name of the Elector of Saxony, in the imperial army.
Ludolf married Sophie von Alvensleben in 1579, and died in 1598. He was
succeeded in the possession of Schönhausen by his only son Valentine,
who married Bertha von der Asseburg[10] in 1607, and died on the 12th
of April, 1620. His second son, August von Bismarck, succeeded him at
Schönhausen. He was born on the 13th of February, 1611, and died the
2d of February, 1670, a Colonel in the Elector of Brandenburg’s army,
and Commandant of the fortress of Peitz. Having entered the army in his
earliest youth, he took service under the Rhinegrave in 1631. After the
battle of Nördlingen, in 1634, he served in the army of Duke Bernhard of
Weimar; served also till 1640 in Lothringen, Burgundy, and France, but
then passed over into the service of Brandenburg. He was thrice married,
first to Helene Elizabeth von Kottwitz, then to Dorothea Elizabeth von
Katte,[11] and lastly to Frederica Sophia von Möllendorff.[12]
A young brother of this August was Valentine Busso; born 1622, died 18th
of May, 1679; had issue by his wife, a Von Bardeleben,[13] the General
Frederick Christopher von Bismarck, who died in command of Küstrin in
1704. The second son of the first marriage of Christopher Frederick
with Louise Margarethe von der Asseburg, was Ludolf August, the only
adventurous member of the family of the Bismarcks of Schönhausen.
Ludolf August von Bismarck was born on the 21st of March, 1683, entered
the army at an early age, and as a valiant soldier, a handsome person, of
rare intellect, he made a great figure. Something uneasy and adventurous
was early observed in his character. On the 22d of November, 1704, he
married Johanna Margarethe von der Asseburg, who died in 1719, only
leaving him a daughter, Albertine Louise, and who married, in 1738 or
1739, a Prussian officer, named Frederick William von der Alben. When
a lieutenant-colonel in garrison at Magdeburg, Ludolf August had the
misfortune to kill a footman, either in anger or when intoxicated. He
concealed the corpse under the bed, and fled. Nevertheless, he obtained
a pardon through his great patron General Field-Marshal Gneomar Dubislaw
von Natzmer,[14] who possessed great influence with King Frederick
William I., and had won great fame in battle against the Swedes, Turks,
and French, and was also distinguished for exemplary piety. He was the
stepbrother of Count Zinzendorf, the founder of the Moravians, through
his second wife, born a Von Gersdorf. Bismarck was pardoned for his
desertion, and reinstated; but promotion did not ensue. Bismarck was
thrice passed over on regimental changes; for the King entertained some
anger against him, despite of his experience. Bismarck did not bear this
long; he sold his estate of Skatiken in Prussian Lithuania, quitted the
army, and entered the Russian service in 1732. In the next year, on the
26th of May, 1733, he married a Mademoiselle Trotte von Treyden, whose
sister was the wife of Biron,[15] the favorite of the Empress Anna, and
afterwards Duke of Courland. He combined his fortunes with those of
that remarkable personage; but shared his disgrace, and was banished
to Siberia. But by means of his considerable talents he seemed to have
made friends outside of the Biron party, for he was soon recalled, and
appointed a General. Bismarck governed several districts with ability,
and fulfilled some diplomatic missions, especially at the court of
London, to the perfect satisfaction of all, and seems to have conducted
himself with peculiar tact, so as to come into collision with no party;
and he succeeded in maintaining the position he had earned in the service
of the State. He finally became General in the Ukraine, and died in
October, 1750, at Pultawa. He left no issue by his second marriage, with
the sister of the Duchess Biron of Courland.
A century after Ludolf August, a second Bismarck of Schönhausen visited
Russia, under specially honorable circumstances. This was Frederick
William von Bismarck, the famous Cavalry General of Würtemberg, also
known as an esteemed military author. He was born on the 28th of July,
1783, at Windheim on the Weser, and joined the Brunswick service in
1797. He afterwards served in England, and finally in Würtemberg, where
he very greatly distinguished himself, and rose to the rank of General.
He was the Würtemberg ambassador to Berlin, Dresden, Hanover, and
Carlsruhe. He aided in the reconstruction of the Danish army in 1826, and
was esteemed so high an authority on cavalry matters, that the Emperor
Nicholas summoned him, in 1835, to Russia, to inspect his cavalry. In
1818, Bismarck was created a Count by the King of Würtemberg, which
title he transmitted after his marriage with the Princess Augusta Amalia
of Nassau-Usingen (born 30th December, 1778; died 16th July, 1846, the
last of the line Nassau-Usingen),[16] on her bringing him no issue, to
the descendants of his deceased elder brother, John Henry Ludwig. On the
3d of April, 1848, he again married Amalia Julie Thibaut, and died on
the 18th of June, 1860. His descendants by this marriage, a son and a
daughter, form the second lines of the Count Bismarcks of Würtemberg, the
other line existing in the family of his deceased brother.
The third Bismarck of Schönhausen, who went to Russia as the
representative of His Majesty the King of Prussia, is our
Minister-President.
Colonel August von Bismarck was succeeded in Schönhausen by his second
son, also named August;—born the 15th of May, 1666; married the 24th of
April, 1694, to Dorothea Sophie von Katte; died the 18th of June, 1732.
He was Councillor and Land Commissioner to the Elector of Brandenburg,
the builder or restorer of the present mansion of Schönhausen. He was
succeeded by the eldest of his seven sons, August Frederick—born the 2d
of April, 1695—who met a hero’s death as Colonel and Commandant of the
regiment of Anspach-Baireuth Dragoons in the year 1742, at the battle
of Chotusitz.[17] It is said that the Minister-President in person is
extremely like this Bismarck, his great-grandfather, who was an excellent
soldier, and high in favor with Frederick the Great. August Frederick
was twice married, first to Stephanie von Dewitz, and then to Frederica
Charlotte von Tresckow.
[Illustration: CHARLES ALEXANDER VON BISMARCK.]
The second son of the first marriage of this brave soldier was the
intellectual Charles Alexander von Bismarck, born in 1727. He was about
to accompany his maternal uncle, one of the Von Dewitz family, to his
post, which was that of Prussian Ambassador to Vienna, when Frederick the
Great appointed his future to be otherwise. Charles Alexander entered
the royal chamber an attaché of the embassy, but quitted it as a cavalry
officer. He was averse to the military art, and soon obtained his
discharge as a captain. On the 5th of March, 1762, he married Christine
Charlotte Gottliebe von Schönfeld—born the 25th of December, 1741;
deceased on the 22d of October, 1772—her mother having been a sister of
his mother, one of the Dewitz family. An elegant French composition, by
Charles Alexander, is preserved; a spirited and touching memorial of his
departed wife, in the inflated style of those days. The title of this
composition—of greater merit than usually the case with such writings—is
as follows: “Eloge ou Monument érigé à la Mémoire de C. C. G. de
Bismarck, née de Schoenfeld, par Charles Alexandre de Bismarck. Berlin,
1774.”
[Illustration: CHRISTINE VON BISMARCK.]
We select a few passages therefrom:—
“My friend lost her mother (Sophie Eleonore von Dewitz) in her earliest
childhood, and her maternal grandmother (Louise Emilie von Dewitz, born
a Von Zeethen of the family of Trebnitz) took her to live with her at
Hoffelde. She was there nurtured in retirement and innocence, and already
won my heart by her filial gentleness. There I found her once more,
after years of war and life in a distant garrison, in perfect innocence,
the charming picture of a blushing rose. O! that ye could return, ye
hours of rapture! when the society of this sweet creature, who in her
solitude had received nothing from art, but every thing from the hand
of nature, filled my soul with such celestial joy, that in possessing
her I forgot, not alone every evil of life, but even every minor grief!
Return at least for an instant to my remembrance, ye sweetest of hours,
for alas! the pang of sorrow will needs drive you away too soon! Above
all, return, thou memory of yon magnificent spring night, upon which I
wandered, between my best-beloved and her dear sister, in the outskirts
of a majestic and peaceful forest, under the silvery moonlight, while the
brooks trilled and the nightingale raised her sorrowing tones. My heart
was instinct with love, and attuned to the enchanting prospect. I felt
the beauty of the earth, and the still greater loveliness of innocence,
indwelling those hearts so full of affection for me! But, no! this
reminiscence is now too powerful for my feelings, and my tear-bedewed
eye is too weak to bear the dazzling glory of joy! No other evening is
destined for me on earth such as that was! She exists no longer who made
that evening more charming to me than all the beauties of nature. She
has left me forever! Soon afterwards our society was interrupted, our
supposed felicity was bitterly destroyed. Our grandmother, the refuge of
her grandchildren, the sustainer of all the poor of her neighborhood,
died. My friend and I were parted, and the sorrow which succeeds all
evanescent joy became our portion.
“Still it was not that terrible misery which now oppresses my heart.
Well-founded hopes comforted and the tenderest affection aided us. My
hopes were not in vain. The slight cloud which had veiled the morning
sun—which gave me life—passed away, and his ray soon shone forth with
accustomed glory. With anxious unrest I yearned to associate myself
with my friend to the brink of the grave. Could I but have done so for
eternity! Our compact, however, is not yet broken, and will endure as
long as my tears can flow, and the soul of my beloved was too beautiful
to prevent their flowing forever. Her excellent father, who might have
bestowed her on a better and a richer man, gave her to me because my
beloved would not have a better or richer man, nor any man save myself.
What words, my father, could express my thanks for this favor, unless
they could to some extent mark the value of your daughter, and stand in
some relation to my lost happiness and my present grief! The silent
tears that overflow my cheeks are more eloquent than words. You can not
see my tears, but perchance God beholds them, and your daughter also. A
tear is the only gratitude I can offer. May the conviction cheer you that
you could not have given your virtuous daughter to any one who loved her
more affectionately, faithfully, and unselfishly than I did!
“You then gave her to me, my father. The 5th of March, 1762, was the
happiest day of my life. I still hear the words which my tender bride
selected for herself: ‘_Intreat me not to leave thee or to return from
following after thee, for whither thou goest I will go, and where thou
lodgest I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.
Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so
to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me_’ (Ruth i. 16,
17). I cherish the hope, the only hope now animating me, that even death
does not part us.
“With what delight, my friend and my father, did I then receive her
from your hand. Alas! that I had left her with thee! I declare with the
sincerity of one who is comfortless that I should have done so, had I
known that death would so soon have withdrawn her from my arms!
“I should then have lost eleven years of a life such as angels only lead;
but I would willingly have sacrificed these happiest years of my earthly
life. Then I felt as secure from such thoughts of death as if I were to
retain her forever! but she left thee and her relatives in tears, and
her peerless heart impelled her to ask my pardon for these very tears.
Of this nature were all her imperfections. What happiness did I not
anticipate in the future on the revelation of such tender sentiments; and
the realization was still greater than my expectation. Our days passed
away in happiness and peace. Could this state of things last forever? It
was heaven upon earth, for me at least; for what can be preferred to this
intimate association with a charming, joyous, tender, intelligent, and
virtuous woman? Exclusively to love! exclusively to be beloved!
“Nature had endowed my friend with beauties of person and mind, by which
she could not fail to please. The first would immediately fascinate the
eye, the second preserved that fascination forever. Perhaps I ought
only to dwell upon the last as the fountains of her virtues. But it
would be ungrateful to be silent respecting the once visible half of
the charming whole, by which alone we learn to know the other invisible
portion, causing virtuous thoughts to grow into virtuous deeds, and
without which I can not even realize any picture of my beloved friend.
She was of noble form, pleasant and well formed. Her expression was
exactly equivalent to its necessary power of pleasing. Her hair of dark
yellow tint. Her forehead was prominent, which she herself regretted,
but which made her more beautiful in the eyes of others. Her brow never
betrayed pride or passion. Her eyes were bluish-gray—their expression
was attentive and watchful, but joyous. Her heart was light, mild, and
ever open, and ever performed what her eye promised. Her nose was very
handsome, somewhat high in the centre, but not to the extent visible in
ambitious or passionate women. Her cheeks were breathed upon by the happy
bloom of health, and the still more lovely blush of shame readily rose.
Her mouth, which never gave an untrue kiss, which never uttered a word of
vanity, of slander, or of lust, displayed handsome, well-arranged teeth,
and balmy lips. The gentle smile of this mouth, the seat of innocence,
how soon, alas! was it to pass away! The outlines of the lower part of
the face were soft, the chin well formed. The profile was artistic,
and so excellent that a famous Berlin painter desired to sketch it for
that alone. Her manners manifested a noble freedom, neatness, and good
taste.”[18]
Thus does Bismarck’s grandfather depict his wife. There certainly is much
of the sentimentality of the times in these characteristic sentences, but
there is more—true affection and a cultivated sense. It evinces a well of
poesy in the individual, that we grieve to find these thoughts clothed in
the choicest French. The poet in him is then first justified when these
periods are re-translated into German, for that they were thought in
German is not to be doubted.
The four sons of Charles Alexander are:—Ernst Frederick Alexander, born
the 14th of February, 1763; died a Colonel and Brigadier in 1813; his
eldest son by a marriage with Louise von Miltitz is Theodore Alexander
Frederick Philip von Bismarck, created Count Bismarck-Bohlen, the 21st
of February, 1818. He is the second Bismarck of Schönhausen who gained
the rank of Count; for the General Frederick von Bismarck, who obtained
a similar dignity in the same year and month (the 17th February, 1818),
from the King of Würtemberg, was also a Schönhausen. His line still
endures in one son, while the title was also ceded to the descendants of
his elder brother, the present Count von Bismarck-Schierstein.
The second son of Charles Alexander was Frederick Adolf Ludwig, born the
1st of August, 1766; he died in 1831, a retired Lieut.-General. In 1813
he was Commandant of Leipzig, in 1814 of Stettin, and owned the knight’s
fee and estate of Templin, near Potsdam.
The third was Philip Ludwig Leopold Frederick, born the 21st February,
1770, a Major in the Mecklenburg Hussar Regiment; he died on the 25th
October, 1813, at Halle on the Saale, of his wounds received at the
battle of Möckern.
The fourth and last, Charles William Ferdinand, was the father of the
present Minister-President.
CHAPTER V.
ARMORIAL BEARINGS.
Up with the banner in the morning air!
Raise high the ancestral shield up there!
For these loved symbols bid us know
That joyfully we van-ward go!
[Illustration]
The shield of the Bismarcks exhibits a device, which, although it has not
materially changed in the course of centuries, has at different times
been variously blazoned. It displays a double trefoil, or, more exactly
speaking, a round-leafed trefoil, flanked in its corners by three long
leaves. The centre device has altered in the seals of various times,
sometimes resembling a rose leaf, sometimes a clover leaf; finally it has
remained a clover leaf. The other trefoil has been treated in the same
way, the leaf being sharply serrated and shorter, or sometimes longer and
but slightly serrated, finally becoming an oak leaf. The colors have also
only been decided in later years. The shield is thus described:—
“In a field azure a golden clover leaf supported in the three angles
by three silver oak leaves.” As to the crest, the arms of Ludolf von
Bismarck exhibit two stags’ antlers on the helmet, evidently alluding
to his official position as Ranger to the Margrave, for the buffalo
horns now in use also often appear at a very early period. The present
emblazoning of the crest is thus given:—“On a coronetted helmet displayed
two buffalo horns proper in azure and argent crosswise—the helmet is
azure and argent.”
The small gold coronet, which, contrary to every rule of good heraldry,
is represented hovering between the horns, is a more recent addition. We
are unable to decide when and how this coronet became part of the crest.
Brüggemann, in his description of Pomerania, describes it as a Count’s
coronet—for what reason we do not perceive.
On inspection of the earliest seals it is evident that the round trefoil
was unquestionably the peculiar and original device, the elongated
leaves having been subsequently added, disputing precedence with the
clover leaf. Thus it is that afterwards we find the oak leaves small and
the centre trefoil large—and contrariwise. If the clover be regarded
as the principal device, it would be more heraldically true, as it is
always emblazoned in gold, to blazon the horns in azure and or. Indeed,
the heraldic ensigns of the Prussian Monarchy (Vol. I. p. 19) give the
correct crest of the Bismarcks in the Armorial Bearings of the Counts of
Bismarck-Bohlen.
The seal of the first Nicholas von Bismarck (1365) displays the device
in a neat border, with a string of pearls within the inscription.
This inscription, no longer very legible, is _S. (Sigillum) Nicolay
de Bismark_. This border disappears on the seals of his three sons:
the shield lies within a string of pearls on a field strewn with small
crosses. In all these seals the trefoil is prominent, but in the seals
of succeeding generations it becomes very small, the long leaves being
prominent, until by lapse of time they assumed proportionate dimensions.
It would be idle and unheraldic to endeavor to identify symbols deriving
their names from the botanical world, hence it would be useless to
define the long leaves in the Bismarck arms as those of the Wegedorn,
Christ-thorn, or White Bramble. This has, however, been done in support
of the extraction of the Bismarcks from the Slavonic race—to identify it
with _Bij smarku_ (Beware of the Bramble), an idea which we must dismiss
as entirely erroneous. The legends only recognize the clover leaf, and
call the long leaves those of the nettle. In popular tradition these two
ideas have become intermingled, as a proverb shows which was engraven on
the blade of a sword of honor presented to Count Bismarck some years ago.
This proverb is:—
Der Wegekraut sollst stehen lah’n—
Hüt dich, Junge, sind Nesseln d’ran.
Anglicé.[19]
The bramble thou shouldst let ’a be;
The nettle, boy, beneath you’ll see.
The round leaves were here supposed to be bramble (_plantago_); the
serrated long leaves, leaves of the nettle.
We find the legend of the arms in the third volume of the _Berlin Review_
of 1856, afterwards reprinted in Hesekiel’s _Wappen Sagen_, Berlin, 1865,
as follows:[20]—
The leaf so green and goodly,
The wanderer’s delight,
In purest gold so shiny,
The Bismarck’s coat bedight—
The cloven leaf lights golden
All on an azure field,
With nettle leaves so olden,
Sharp shown upon the shield.
In ancient days departed,
There was a dainty maid,
By whom the nettle signet
Was on this shield displayed.
For damsel Gertrude many
A suitor came to woo,
But her father not with any
Save her cousin willed to do.
A Wendic chief so princely
Came down from northern sea;
A hundred horses with him
Pranced pricking o’er the lea.
Young Gertrude he demanded,
But Gertrude, all politely,
Made little courtesy candid—
Despite his carriage knightly,
She would have naught of he.
The Prince, incensèd highly,
Upraised his golden wand;
He called his knaves assembled,
Around him they did stand.
In angry tones he shouted—
“The trefoil bruised shall be;
Not thus will I be flouted!
The nettle fain I’d see.
’Twere merry to be breaking
The trefoil green or gold,
And havoc to be making
Amidst these halls so old!”
And in that self-same hour,
This Prince of Wendic race
Assaulted Gertrude’s bower,
The trefoil to displace.
The castellan, o’erpowered,
Sank silent in the moat;
The chieftain so o’er froward
His way then onward smote.
Rejoicing in his valor
The Prince came clanking in,
But Gertrude showed no pallor,
Despite the battle’s din.
“I’ll cull the trefoil golden
That hath no nettle’s sting,
The trefoil quaint and olden—”
“Thou shalt not do this thing!”
He to his arms would take her,
And lovingly embrace;
No courage did forsake her:
He quickly shouted “Grace!”
Down in his blood before her,
He sank in sudden death—
Proud as the race that bore her,
She stabbed with bated breath;
And once and twice she smote him,
And buried deep the steel.
’Twas thus she could devote him
The nettle’s sting to feel—
“Who dares to cull the trefoil
The nettle’s sting shall feel!”
And since young Gertrude’s hour,
On Bismarck’s shield displayed,
The nettle’s stinging power
Round trefoil is arrayed.
With steel of keenest temper,
Their virtue is upheld,
Since early days of Gertrude,
Those early days of eld!
According to another and still more simple legend, the Bismarcks added
the oak leaves to their arms on the occasion of one of their race
conquering a Wendic chief, whose device contained such a leaf, or three
such leaves. We do not lay any stress, and with justice, on the presumed
importance of such traditions, so common in the last century; still
we should not like to see them altogether thrown aside as trifling.
Every legend contains some kernel of truth, however small. Thus it does
not seem unimportant that the Bismarcks are continually represented
as combatting the heathen Wends. There is certainly nothing proved by
it, but it would never have arisen had not this family belonged to the
followers of some German prince, who had established himself in the
frontier Marks on the Elbe, and waged unceasing war thence against the
Slavonic tribes existing between that river and the Oder.
Thrice in this century has the dignity of Count been conferred on the
Bismarcks of Schönhausen; we now therefore possess Prussian Counts
of Bismarck-Bohlen, Würtemberg Counts of Bismarck, the first line of
which call themselves Counts of Bismarck-Schierstein, and the second
line only Counts von Bismarck; finally, we have Prussian Counts of
Bismarck-Schönhausen.
[Illustration: BISMARCK’S FATHER.
(Karl Wilhelm Ferdinand von Bismarck.)]
The arms of the Prussian Counts of Bismarck-Bohlen are thus given:—The
shield is bordered or and quartered, the first and fourth fields azure,
displaying a trefoil or surrounded by three oak leaves argent (Bismarck);
in the second and third field a griffin gules on a roof-tree formed of
five stones gules in steps (Bohlen). The Bismarck crest is crowned and
surmounted by two buffalo horns emblazoned azure and or crosswise, with
a small gold crown between the horns; the helmet trappings are azure and
or. The centre (Bohlen) crest is crowned and supported by two uncrowned
griffins gules regardant on a trunk of a tree; the helmet trappings are
azure and gules. The crowned crest to the left displays three ostrich
feathers, the centre one sable, the others white; each ostrich feather
bears a diamond argent (perhaps for Schiverni); the helmet trappings
gules and argent. Between the shield and crest is the Count’s coronet.
Supporters, two crowned griffins gules regardant.
The arms of the Würtemberg Counts of Bismarck-Schierstein (called the
first or Nassau line, their family estate of Schierstein lying in Nassau)
are as follows:—The quartered shield displays, in the first and fourth
fields, azure a trefoil or, with three oak leaves argent at the corners;
in the second field, gules a lion or passant; in the third, gules a horse
argent fresnée. On the crest, coronetted, two buffalo horns of azure and
argent crosswise, between which is a coronet or. The helmet trappings to
the right are azure and or, to the left azure and argent. Supporters,
to the right a horse argent, to the left a lion or. Motto, “Einig und
treu”—“United and true.”
The arms of the Würtemberg Counts of Bismarck of the second line
(described according to the Gotha Calendar) are as follows:—The quartered
shield displays in the first and fourth fields, azure a trefoil argent;
in the second field, also azure (? gules) a horse argent fresnée; in the
third field azure (? gules) a lion or rampant. The crest, coronetted,
displays a pair of horns argent and azure, between which is placed a
trefoil (? argent). The helmet trappings to the right are azure and
argent, to the left azure and or. Supporters, to the right a horse
argent, to the left a lion or.
If this blazon be correct, the shield no longer displays the ancient
device of the Bismarcks—the double trefoil. Either there has been some
error in the raising of the armorial bearings, or the original symbol has
been advisedly adopted.
The arms of the Prussian Counts von Bismarck-Schönhausen (the
Minister-President and his heirs) are thus blazoned:—The shield,
bordered or, displays on a field azure a trefoil or, surrounded with oak
leaves argent; on the coronetted helm two buffalo horns of azure and
argent crosswise, with a coronet argent between them. The simple family
arms of the Bismarcks have thus been retained on his elevation to the
rank of Count, the shield under the crest having been surmounted by the
Count’s coronet. The arms are improved by two eagles as supporters, the
one sable and crowned being the Prussian royal eagle, the left gules,
with the electoral cap, the eagle of Brandenburg.
Another addition is that of the motto, “In Trinitate Robur”—“My strength
in the Trinity.” This is a motto devised upon correct rules, as it should
always bear a double meaning—one referring to the double trinity of the
trefoils, the other allied to the higher signification of the Trinity of
God.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER VI.
THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF BISMARCK’S BIRTHPLACE.
Genthin.—The Plotho Family.—Jerichow.—Fischbeck.—The
Kaiserburg.—The Emperor Charles IV.—The Elector
Joachim Nestor.—Frederick I.—General Fransecky “to the
Front.”—Tangermünde.—Town-hall.—Count Bismarck.—His Uniform,
and the South German Deputy.—Departure for Schönhausen.
[The translator has abridged the following chapters and transferred
them to a place apparently better fitted for them than that they
occupy in the German edition, but nothing of importance is omitted.]
Genthin is an ancient place, owing its foundation during the twelfth
century to the noble Lords of Plotho, whose ancestral mansion,
Alten-Plotho, lies close to the town. At the present time the head of
this family, who is invested with the dignity of Hereditary Chamberlain
of the Duchy of Magdeburg, resides at the Castle of Parey, on the Elbe.
The noble family of Plotho shares with that of the Gänse of Putlitz the
distinction of being the only race still flourishing, the origin of
which can be traced to the Wendic princes and family chieftains. It is
probable that they were early converted to Christianity, and thence were
enabled to retain some attributes of their Wendic nobility, and assert
some few privileges in the presence of the Teutonic knightly aristocracy,
gradually thronging forward into the Marks with their feudal retainers.
The Plothos and the Putlitzs hence are called noblemen (_Edle Herrn_,
_nobiles viri_), at a time when the designation was usually only applied
to dynasties. In early records they are always named in precedence of the
members of the ancient chivalric races. They had vassals of noble blood,
and, up to the most recent period, held their own court at the Manor of
Parey. The features of that Freiherr von Plotho who so energetically
repelled the Imperial Ban, in his capacity as Electoral Brandenburg
Ambassador, at the Imperial Diet in Ratisbon, which the Imperial notary,
Doctor April, endeavored to force upon him against Frederick the Great,
are well known and popular. The best portrait of this remarkable
personage has been drawn by Goethe, in his “Fiction and Truth.”[21] It
is not so generally known that a branch of this Wendic family has also
established itself in Belgium. The enormous possessions of the Barony of
Engelsmünster, in Flanders, were first alienated from that family amidst
the storms of the French Revolution.
It was on the afternoon of a somewhat chilly June day that we drove
into the green pastures of Jerichow. The fragrance of lime-blossoms and
hay saluted our nostrils. The eye was gratified by well-kept fields,
pleasantly alternating with plough-land and meadow; the heath, with its
thorn bushes, chiefly surrounded by strips of brushwood, smiled before us.
The first place at which we arrived was Redekin, with the simple mansion
of the Alvensleben family—its tall poplars, and its neighboring venerable
church with the bronze figure of Christ. Next came Jerichow, the small
city which gives its name to two counties. This pretty little town has
two churches, and welcomed us cheerfully with its group of fine old
elms and fragrant rose-trees. The church at the entrance has nothing
remarkable about it, but the other at the end of the town is very
curious, as one of the earliest specimens of pure Gothic style in these
parts. This possesses a crypt.
Close behind Jerichow on the left, a landmark, the handsome Kaiser-house
of Tangermünde, is visible.
At our next stage, the fine village of Fischbeck, we were already upon
ancient Bismarckian soil; we did not, however, drive farther in the
direction of Schönhausen, close by, but turned to the left towards the
Elbe, on the other bank of which Tangermünde, with its imperial castle,
tall towers, walls, and turrets, forming a well-preserved piece of
mediæval architecture, presented itself to our view in the last golden
rays of the evening sun.
We slowly crossed the broad expanse of the Elbe in a ponderous
ferry-boat, and went up to the castle built by the Emperor Charles
IV., that acute and politic King of Bohemia, as a metropolis for the
great realm which extended from the North Sea and the Baltic as far as
Hungary, and in which he designed to found the power of his family—a
realm destined to fall to pieces under his sons.
At the castle we did not, of course, find the old lime-tree of justice,
at which appeals used to be made from the gate of the old Brandenburg
bridge. The gate and the tree have both disappeared, but on entering the
castle-yard by the massive gate-tower, we had the venerable ruins of the
ancient pile before us; on the left the tower, on the right the chapel,
smothered in festoons of blooming roses. The castle itself, in which the
powerful emperor once lived—where the magnificent Elector Joachim Nestor
held his joyous wedding-feast with the beautiful Princess Elizabeth of
Denmark, and where he breathed out the last breath of his noble life,
after many bitter disappointments—exists no longer. The sheriff’s office,
which stands on the site of the castle, was built by King Frederick I.
before he was king. His F., with the electoral cap and the Roman numerals
III., is still to be seen on the ceilings.
The old Kaiserburg is now inhabited by a retired officer of cavalry,
who was then entertaining a visitor, General von Fransecky, known since
the battle of Sadowa as “Fransecky Vor”—“Fransecky to the Front.” This
hero of the fight had come thither to inspect the fourth squadron of the
Westphalian Dragoons, lying in garrison at Tangermünde; hence on this
evening the old castle was full of gay feminine toilettes and brilliant
uniforms. Charles IV., educated at the French court and in Italy, here
at one time instructed the rude squires of the Mark in his courtly and
chivalrous code of manners towards ladies. The first assemblies in which
both sexes intermingled took place at Tangermünde. Until that time in
these regions men and women had sought their amusements separately, and
hence knew nothing of real society.
The old Emperor would certainly have enjoyed the pleasant picture of
cheerful sociability presented this evening in the lovely gardens between
his chapel and tower.
Next morning we visited the remarkable town-hall and the handsome church
of the ancient city. Such town-halls and churches no communities or
cities as large as Tangermünde build at the present day. We are wanting
in that sense of public spirit, and prefer small separate houses, and
devote no proud and extensive structures to the use of the commonwealth.
The morning sun was shining brightly on the old city, and the Sunday
bells were tolling as we passed back across the Elbe. A group of children
bathing enlivened the strand below the gray tower. Two officers brought
their fine horses across in the ferry-boat; one of these belonged to the
Westphalian Dragoons, the other wore the yellow collar and cap-stripe
of the Seventh Heavy Militia Cavalry, the colonel of which is General
Count Bismarck. It is well known that Count Bismarck habitually wears
the uniform of his regiment, and a South German Deputy to the Diet did
not omit to stigmatize the yellow token of the uniform of the Chancellor
of the Diet as very ominous. The excellent and reverend gentleman saw in
the sulphurous collar of Bismarck a piece of the uniform of a prince as
different from our noble King William as could possibly be.
On reaching the landing-place, we took a long last look at Tangermünde,
before entering the carriage which was to convey us to Schönhausen.
CHAPTER VII.
SCHÖNHAUSEN.
The Kattenwinkel.—Wust.—Lieutenant Von Katte.—Schönhausen.—Its
History.—The Church.—Bishop Siegobodo.—Bismarck’s
Mansion.—Interior.—Bismarck’s Mother.—Bismarck’s
Birth-Chamber.—The Library.—Bismarck’s Youthful
Studies.—Bismarck’s Maternal Grandmother.—The Countess with the
Dowry.—Ghost Stories.—Anecdote of a Ghost.—The Cellar Door.—The
French at Schönhausen.—The Templars.—The Park.—The Wounded
Hercules.—The Pavilion.—Two Graves.—The Orangery.—The Knight’s
Demesne.—Departure from Schönhausen.
On leaving Fischbeck for Schönhausen there is on the right the
Kattenwinkel, or Kattenland. By this we are not reminded of the old
Teutonic tribe of the Catte, of whose relations towards the Cherusci
we know very little, but of the old and chivalrous race of Katte,
established in this region for the last five hundred years. Almost all
the villages whose church spires we see or do not see, in the corner
between the Havel and the Elbe, belonged or still belong to the family
Von Katte.
Among these villages is Wust. In the church of that place are buried the
remains of that Katte, whose friendship for Frederick the Great ended
in the tragedy of Küstrin.[22] There is something fantastic, and at
the same time touching, in the fact, that, as well as the skull of the
executed John Hermann von Katte, the periwig trimmed with blue lace, and
worn by him, has been preserved in the family vault at Wust. The Katte
family[23] was very numerous, and in this district there is scarcely
a church or family mansion which does not bear its canting heraldic
coat of arms. By marriages, also, the azure shield, with the white cat
bearing the mouse in its mouth, has spread in all directions. It is
impossible to contemplate the armorial bearings of the Kattes without
thinking of the beheaded friend of the great Frederick. Just as the cat,
in the coat of arms, plays cruelly with the mouse, did the furious King
Frederick William play with him. It is a milder trait in the tragedy of
Küstrin, that the angry King endeavored in his peculiar way to comfort
John Hermann’s father, as well as his grandfather, Field-Marshal Count
Wartensleben, for the terrible fate of their son and grandson. Frederick
William I. was an angry and almost coarsely-severe monarch, but there
was nothing of the Oriental despot about him, and, to do him justice,
his native benevolence and Christian conscientiousness must not be
overlooked. Oriental despots were not, however, then confined to the
Orient. The general character of King Frederick William the Severe bears
a favorable contrast with those of the other rulers of his time.
As we drove into Schönhausen, the church bell was ringing; but it did not
give a clear sound, but appeared dull. The bell of the prettiest village
church between the Havel and the Elbe is cracked, and will probably soon
be recast; but we can not deny that the very dullness of its sound,
amidst the sunlight and blossoms of the well-wooded roadway, had a
peculiar effect upon the mind.
Schönhausen is an ancient place, and, like all this portion of the
circle of Jerichow, was originally ecclesiastical property. It formed
part of the endowment granted in 946 by Emperor Otto I. to the bishopric
of Havelberg, founded by him. This grant of Otto’s, in course of time,
was considerably divided; Schönhausen and Fischbeck, however, remained
attached to the cathedral of Havelberg as maintenance of the bishopric.
Until the fifteenth century Schönhausen was an ordinary village, governed
by a bailiff. But during the bishopric of John von Schlabrendorf, who
occupied the episcopal throne during the peaceful period between 1501 and
1520, the place greatly improved, and made some progress towards becoming
a township. In an acknowledgment, still extant, of the year 1547, the
receipt runs thus: “Received of the worshipful magistrates and sheriffs
of the borough of Schönhausen.” The place had therefore become a
borough. The bounds of this borough were very considerable, for, besides
the forest-land, they comprehended more than 20,000 acres of arable land.
Hence it ensued that Schönhausen, down to recent times, always reckoned
more inhabitants than the neighboring township of Jerichow. As, however,
there no longer existed any bishops of Havelberg as its protectors,
Schönhausen was unable to maintain its rank as a borough, although time
has not effaced all similarity in the place to a town or market-place.
Schönhausen suffered greatly in the Thirty Years’ War, alternately from
the Swedes and the Imperial forces; and of forty-eight farms only one
remained. In 1642 the manor-house was plundered and burnt; and in 1651
the whole district was visited by a severe inundation. For many years
there was no pastor attached to the church, until the Bismarcks summoned,
in 1650, the Rev. Adam Winkler from Grosswulkow.
The church and the manor-house are situated close together upon an
eminence, and from the churchyard there is a fine view. This venerable
sanctuary was consecrated on the 7th of November, 1212, and built by
Bishop Siegobodo of Havelberg, at the beginning of his episcopate, he
being one of the first spiritual shepherds who busied himself in the
establishment of Christianity in this neighborhood. Its patron saints
were the Virgin and the martyr Willebrod. In order to increase the
sanctity of this church, which, from the rarity of churches at that
time, was frequented by the inhabitants of an extensive district, a
rich collection of relics was established there. Among these were
relics of the holy martyr of Thebes, of the martyr Sebastian, of Bishop
Constantine, of the Abbot Ægidius, of St. Alban, and others. These were
discovered on the repair of the altar in 1712, contained in a sealed
casket, together with an original record by Bishop Siegobodo as to the
consecration of the church and the deposit of the relics. The church
of Schönhausen is the largest, handsomest, and most perfect village
church in the whole district—its shape in grand simplicity is that of a
tri-naved basilica. Its origin from the Havelberg bishops is also shown
by the broad tower transept, the cathedral of Havelberg having been the
pattern of all churches in the vicinity. The Landrath August von Bismarck
especially promoted the interior decorations of the church; he also,
in great measure, restored the manor-house. He presented the handsomely
carved pulpit and staircase in the centre, as well as the splendid and
richly carved oak dais opposite the pulpit. He also set up the altar and
altar-piece. To his parents he erected a memorial with oval portraits;
the costume of the pictures is that of the middle of the seventeenth
century. His own mural inscription, erected by his son, is at a little
distance, but it is far inferior in execution. Under these memorial
tablets is placed, in a style of the utmost simplicity, that of the
mother of our Minister-President.
[Illustration]
The mansion of the Bismarcks is close to the church. It is entered by
a gateway with walled railings, having to its left the farm building,
and in front of it a tall and handsome lime-tree, which, as it were,
marks the boundary between the offices and the special courtyard of the
mansion. At a few paces from the lime stands a sandstone vase, and we
then find ourselves in front of the house where Bismarck was born.
[Illustration]
It is a plain, massive, quadrangular building of the last few years of
the seventeenth century, the enormous foundation-walls of which date from
the early castle first inhabited by the Bismarcks: this was ravaged and
burnt during the Thirty Years’ War. The house is in two stories, with
a high roof. On the right a wing is built out, extending as far as a
sandstone vase. The park begins on the left with magnificent alleys of
chestnuts and limes.
The doorway is as simple as the house, without steps or porch. The shield
above it bears on the right the arms of the Bismarcks, and on the left
those of the Kattes—the cat with the mouse. The inscription to the right
is August von Bismarck, that on the left is Dorothea Sophia Katte, anno
1700.
Round the corner, by a door leading to the garden, the house can be
entered through a handsome and spacious garden saloon. The ceiling of
this room is decorated with the armorial bearings.
This ground-floor leads into a large hall, whence there is a heavy,
broad, and dark staircase to the upper rooms. The next room is the
comparatively low-ceilinged dining-room, hung with white tapestry; and
here we also found the ceiling borders and the two fireplaces richly
ornamented with carving. On the side-tables stand busts of Frederick
William III. and Frederick William IV., the latter as Crown Prince. The
furniture is plain.
From the dining-room the door to the left leads into two handsome
reception-rooms, the one ornamented with oil paintings, the other
decorated in the Japanese style. Here are, in the corners, casts of
Kiss’s Amazon, and Rauch’s Walburga riding on the stag.
[Illustration]
To the right of the dining-room is situated the sitting-room of Countess
Bismarck, tapestried in green. The pictures and lithographs are of
the time of Frederick William III., and over the chimney-piece is the
medallion portrait of a woman, probably an antique beauty. The principal
object in this room is the portrait of the Minister-President’s mother.
Farther on again to the right we enter the bed-chamber; in yonder
alcove, now divided from the room by a red curtain, Otto von Bismarck was
born, on the 1st of April, 1815. In this alcove his cradle stood, but it
is now only occupied by the bed in which his father died.
It is a simple apartment, presenting a comfortable and cosy aspect.
[Illustration]
The third door in the background of the green sitting-room leads to the
library, a spacious chamber painted red, having in the centre a ponderous
and broad table. The books are contained in two bookcases. The collection
is not inconsiderable in number, but their arrangement is confused.
It was worth while to cast a glance into the book-shelves, and see what
books were studied by Count Bismarck in his youth. In one of the cases we
found honest old Zedler’s voluminous Universal Lexicon of the Sciences
and Arts; next to it the extensive collection, “Theatrum Europæum,” still
an indispensable companion; a General History of Germany, a Universal
History, both written in the pedantic tone of the last century; Gledow’s
“History of the Empire;” a historical Labyrinth of Time, and Ludwig
Gottfried’s “Historical Chronicle of the Four Monarchies.” Theology was
represented by Dr. Martin Luther’s German writings. Next to a collection
of old travels, stood a Political and News Lexicon, with Busching’s
“Geography.” The other bookcase, in its upper shelves, appears dedicated
to the Belles Lettres. Voltaire and the Letters of Count von Bussy stood
peacefully beside Frederick von Schlegel’s works and Leopold Schefer’s
“Lay Breviary;” next to Basedow’s “Introduction” was lying Herschel’s
“Popular Astronomy.”
Turning from the books to the pictures, we find them of special interest,
as they chiefly depict members of the family. A couple of portraits of
Bismarck’s only sister when very young, evidence some remote likeness to
the mother.
[Illustration]
No portrait of the Minister-President himself anywhere exists in the
house. There was, however, one of his brother, the Royal Chamberlain,
Bernhard von Bismarck, of Külz, Provincial Councillor in the circle of
Naugard—a youthful face, not much like the Minister-President. Count
Bismarck is also personally unlike his mother, although we can scarcely
doubt her influence over his mental qualities. We may mention among the
pictures a very interesting one of his maternal grandmother, and also one
of his uncle General von Bismarck.
By chance we noticed, half-concealed by the enormous stove, the portrait
of a lady. The original had scarcely been a beauty; her features were
hard and unformed, though this might partly have been the painter’s
fault. This picture had its little history.
[Illustration: BISMARCK’S ARMORIAL BEARINGS.]
Madame Bellin, the housekeeper, told us that during the absence of
Bismarck’s father on a journey, she had found it in a loft, cleaned it,
and brought it down to the library. She asked her master on his return
whose portrait it was, and learned that it was that of a young countess
who had in his youth been suggested to him as a wife, with a dowry of one
hundred thousand thalers.[24] We could readily understand that Herr von
Bismarck found few charms in the picture, but the housekeeper, who was
struck with the dowry, exclaimed, “Ah! _gnädiger Herr_, I should have had
her if she had possessed a hundred thousand thalers!” Bismarck’s father
replied, with a smile, “Well, you can have her yourself, if you like her
so much.”
In those days people had a great deal of respect for a hundred thousand
thalers, and such a sum of money was then respectfully called a ton of
money. In our times a hundred thousand thalers form no great amount of
wealth, although one does not instinctively put one’s hand in one’s
pocket to give the poor possessor a trifle by way of charity. At least,
such was the expression of a well-known young nobleman lately, on
speaking of the difference in the times. However, the portrait of the
young countess with the hundred thousand thalers has hung in the library
behind the stove at Schönhausen ever since.
The peculiarity of the paternal mansion of Bismarck consists in its
quadrangular form, its thick walls, its massive heavy staircase, the
depth and low pitch of its rooms, and the almost extravagant use of
stucco on the ceilings, friezes, stoves, and panels. But the whole
mansion impresses you with an air of comfort and homely solidity; there
is a historical air of noble simplicity throughout the whole of the
apartments.
Schönhausen would of course not be a correct dwelling-house for an
ancient family, if proper ghost stories did not pertain to it; and
the ancient structure does not look as if these were deficient. On
the contrary, there never was a house more like a haunted house than
this cradle of Bismarck’s. Those, indeed, who were able to tell of the
ghosts which flitted about the mansion are long since buried, and we
were obliged to content ourselves with a very poor remainder of these
traditions; but what is still preserved was quite sufficient to satisfy
the charm of terror in the ladies, at times guests at the mansion, if
not to arouse terror of a real kind, without any delightful sensation.
The library was especially “uncanny;” a faithful servant, who slept
there when the family was from home, often woke up in the night with a
cold breath to disturb him; he perceived that there was a “something”
unpleasantly close to him, and his usually fearless spirit was seized
with icy horror. It was by no means so unpleasant when the “something”
evinced its presence in some more definite manner, as, for instance, when
it came tramping up the oak staircase outside, or banged itself down with
a dull thud. The man who related this was not at all wanting in courage;
he knew that he was quite alone in the house; he always concluded it to
be thieves, but if he put out his hands they encountered nothing, and if
he went out from the room he found no one there. It is very easy to laugh
at these things, but that is all of no use; the unexplained always has
its terrors until some false or true solution of the enigma is found.
One night, Bismarck, before he was Minister, occupied the bedroom in
which he was born; he had guests in the mansion—among others a certain
Herr von Dewitz. The next day a hunting party was to take place, and
a servant had been instructed to awaken his master at an early hour.
Suddenly Bismarck awoke; he heard the door of the library in the adjacent
chamber open, and thought he perceived soft footsteps. He concluded
it was the servant coming to awaken him. At that moment he heard Herr
von Dewitz exclaim, “Who’s there?” He sprang from the bed, the clock
struck twelve, and there was nobody to be seen. He had felt or heard
something, as other persons had before him, which was susceptible of no
explanation. Another of the Bismarcks had also seen something; if we
are not mistaken this was an uncle of the Minister’s, the General von
Bismarck, who died in 1881. He saw, certainly only in a dream, a fleeting
white form that beckoned to him; he followed, and it led him down into
the cellar, the most ancient part of the building, and there showed him
a door in which there was cut an opening in the form of a heart. He
thought from the motions of the apparition that it signified to him the
existence of a concealed treasure. This was, as already stated, all a
dream, but the dream was so vivid, it made such an impression on him,
that on the next morning he examined the cellar closely; he found, hidden
behind rubbish and lumber, a little door with a heart-shaped opening in
it, the existence of which was quite unsuspected by any of the members
of the family. The door had now been found, but alas! no treasure was
discovered, for the door only concealed a hidden passage leading into the
Church.
In the library door there are three deep cracks, commemorating the
presence of evil spirits of any thing but a ghostly nature; they were
French soldiers, who in 1806 pursued the young and lovely lady of the
mansion, and endeavored to break down the door with their bayonets, when
the fugitive had locked it behind her. Bismarck’s father sheltered his
wife from the attentions of the children of the “_grande nation_” in
the forest, but his ready money, among which was a considerable sum in
louis-d’ors, he buried under the solitary pavilion in the park island.
His astonishment was great, when, on his return, he found his treasure
disturbed, but not stolen, though the louis-d’ors were scattered about.
Not the French, but the dogs, had discovered it, had scratched up the
earth, and thrown the gold pieces contemptuously aside.
It does not seem that Schönhausen had ever been in the possession of the
Soldiers of the Holy Virgin—the Order of the Temple; but in the ghostly
chronicles of the mansion the Knights Templars play a considerable part.
Their long white mantles with the red cross are certainly particularly
adapted for this; but it is a sign of the deep impression made by
the sudden destruction of the mighty Order, upon the people of these
districts, that in all mysterious narratives, all secret subterranean
passages, treasure hoards, and similar circumstances, we find the
Templars with their long white cloaks occupying a conspicuous place. At
the same time, there is much avarice mingled with this, for the most
extravagant traditions found credence as to the wealth of the Templars.
Buried treasures of the Order were suspected everywhere, and the poor
Templars were doomed to guard the riches which they had accumulated
during their lives, as ghosts, forever.
From the mansion we passed on to the upper terrace of the park, and
wandered down the cool shady alley of limes, the branches of which bent
to the ground, forming a verdant arbor of singular beauty. In this
magnificent spot the lord of the mansion often had the table spread for
himself and friends. The park is remarkably distinguished for fine rows
of trees, both old and new, and the lime-tree seems ever to have been
the favorite tree of the Bismarcks of Schönhausen.
On the wall, separating the terrace from the park itself, there is
growing a very handsome birch-tree, which appears to have been self-sown.
It has rooted itself deep into the stone, breaking down a portion of the
wall, and now grows up amidst ruins and wreaths of roses, like the green
flag of a victor.
The park is laid out according to the antique French style, with straight
hedges, basins, and statues; but Nature has long since overcome the
garden shears of Lenotre.
[Illustration]
It is easy to perceive from the lower park itself that the lord of
the manor is no longer present, and that the farm is leased. Between
the tall noble avenues and picturesque foliage, broad patches planted
with vegetables may be observed. This gives a homely, but scarcely a
neglected, appearance to the place, as it does not destroy the general
beauty of the view.
By an avenue, adorned with really splendid limes, we reach a small
bridge, leading across the mantled pool which divides the park from the
fields. On this side is the cool shade of the limes; yonder in the
sunshine is Indian corn and beet-root. By this bridge stands a statue
of Hercules with its hand on its back, cut in sandstone, on the north
side of which the Junker Otto Bismarck once fired off his rifle—the
marks of which musketry are still visible—and he ever afterwards used
to assure his friends that Hercules put his hand there because the shot
still pained him! On one thigh, evidently by a later hand, some person
has written “Adam.” This person, obviously somewhat wanting in his
knowledge of mythology, no doubt was led to the explanation by the very
primitive style of costume. But so long as the country side contents
itself with such explanations, there is not much to be said against it.
It is somewhat more reprehensible to decapitate the gods, to provide a
whetstone for the scythe. This fate, however, a somewhat massive Flora
has had to undergo; and there it stands behind a thicket, apparently
mourning the loss of its curly head.
Upon a small artificial island in the park stands a lonesome pavilion in
the style of the Regent, half hidden by trees and overgrown with moss.
The poet might select it for the scene of the catastrophe of a romance.
We did not cross the wooden bridge, because our friendly guide warned us
against the gnats which for a long time, in many sorts and sizes, have
enjoyed their innocent lives in that locality.
We did, however, visit two solemn places in the park—two graves. In a
dark shrubbery, grown quite wild, lies an elder brother of Bismarck,
deceased as a child. The cast-iron cross has evidently been erected over
the grave at a later time.
At the very remotest corner of the park, close by the sedgy shore, we
found the second grave. Here Captain von Bismarck, a cousin of the
Minister, reposes. Above the last resting-place of the wearied soldier
is another iron cross. This was the favorite spot of the old gentleman
during his lifetime; beneath the trees, on the banks which now watch
over his grave, he used in summer time to muse every day over his quiet
fishing-rod, or gaze dreamily across into the blooming meadows beyond the
water. At his express desire he was buried in this spot.
Besides the six-and-twenty farms and subsidiary patches, there is also
at Schönhausen a knight’s demesne (_Rittergut_), formerly likewise the
property of the Bismarcks, but which had to be sold in time of need. It
now belongs to Dyke Captain Gaertner. It is related that the Minister
wished to repurchase it, but Captain Gaertner, who did not wish to part
with the property, asked 150,000 thalers more than the value, upon which
Bismarck observed, “I would have given 50,000 thalers more than it was
worth, but I can not agree to a larger sum.” This is only a popular tale,
for the truth of which we can not vouch.
In taking leave of Schönhausen, we may be allowed to say that, in the
general picture of the place, we seem to recognize individual traits of
the man there born—or, rather, that the sight of Schönhausen has shown
us features which point to cognate and similar facts in the outward
appearance of Bismarck. It is difficult to express this in words, but the
sentiment remains; and in this we need not appeal to posterity, as is the
custom of authors when they feel assured that they will be unintelligible
to their readers, but rather to all those alike familiar with Bismarck
and his estate of Schönhausen.
Be health and blessings ever near
The mansion old by woods surrounded,
The cradle, so to Prussia dear,
Of him who Germany refounded.
By strength of thought and weapon’s might
He conquered, striving for the right;
Peace to the house and hail the star
That Prussia’s glory beams afar!
[Illustration: EARLY YOUTH.]
Book the Second.
YOUTH.
CHAPTER I.
SCHOOL AND COLLEGE DAYS.
Bismarck’s Parents.—Brothers and Sisters.—Bismarck
Born.—Kniephof, Jarchelin, and Külz.—The Plamann
Institute.—The Frederick William Institute.—Residence in
Berlin.—Bismarck’s Father and Mother.—Letter of Count Bismarck
to his Sister.—Confirmation.—Dr. Bonnell.—Severity of the
Plamanns.—Holiday Time.—Colonel August Frederick von Bismarck
and the Wooden Donkey at Ihna Bridge.—School-life with Dr.
Bonnell.—The Cholera of 1831.—The Youthful Character and
Appearance of Bismarck.—Early Friends.—Proverbs.—“Far from
Sufficient!” quoth Bismarck.
Karl Wilhelm Ferdinand von Bismarck, of Schönhausen, born on the 13th
November, 1771, once belonging to the Body Guard (No. 11 in the old
list), who quitted the service as Captain, was married on the 7th of
July, 1806, to Louise Wilhelmina Menken, born on the 24th of February,
1790; died the 1st of January, 1889, at Berlin.
Frau von Bismarck was an orphan daughter of the well-known Privy
Councillor, Anastatius Ludwig Menken, who had served with distinction
under three sovereigns of Prussia and possessed great influence during
the first years of the reign of Frederick William III. He was born
at Helmstadt on the 2d of August, 1752, and was a member of a family
distinguished for its literary attainments. To a certain extent he was a
pupil of the Minister Count Herzberg,[25] by whose means he was appointed
to a post in the Privy Chancery. Frederick the Great held him in great
esteem, he having rendered an important service to his sister, the Queen
Louise Ulrike, in Stockholm; and he employed him from the year 1782 in
the capacity of Secretary to the Cabinet for Foreign Affairs. From 1786
he became Privy Councillor to Frederick William II., and in that office
was again intrusted with the administration of foreign affairs, but after
the war with France was supplanted by General von Bischofswerder,[26]
and retired into private life. Menken was the only adviser of King
Frederick William II., who was recalled and reappointed at the accession
of Frederick William III. He was the author of the well-known Cabinet
Order issued by Frederick William III., which insured the young King
the confidence of his subjects. Menken was no revolutionist, as
Bischofswerder and his partisans asserted, but to a certain extent he
agreed with the principles of the first French National Convention. He
is portrayed as a gentle, liberal, prudent, and experienced man, but of
delicate health; and he died on the 5th August, 1801, in consequence
of illness brought on by a life of unintermitting labor. According to
the opinion of Stein, Menken was a person of generous sentiments, well
educated, of fine feeling and benevolent disposition, with noble aims and
principles. He desired the good of his native land, which he sought to
promote by the diffusion of knowledge, the improvement of the condition
of all classes, and the application of philanthropic ideas; but his
indisposition for war at an important juncture was adverse to his fame;
his too eloquent and humane edict, and his singular gentleness of mind,
invested the Government with an appearance of weakness.
His orphan daughter became the mother of Count Bismarck. It is
interesting to note that a hundred years before a daughter of the same
family, Christine Sybille Menken, deceased in 1750, as the wife of the
Imperial Equerry Peter Hohmann von Hohenthal, was the ancestress of the
Count von Hohenthal of the elder line.
The brothers and sisters of Count Bismarck were:—
I. Alexander Frederick Ferdinand, born 13th April, 1807; died 13th
December, 1809.
II. Louise Johanne, born 3d November, 1808; died 19th March, 1813.
III. Bernhard, born 24th June, 1810, Royal Chamberlain and Privy
Councillor, and Chief Justice of the Circle of Naugard, near Külz and
Jarchelin, in Pomerania.
IV. Francis, born 20th June, 1819; died 10th September, 1822.
V. Franziska Angelika Malwina, born the 29th June, 1827; wedded at
Schönhausen on the 30th October, 1844, to Ernst Frederick Abraham Henry
Charles Oscar von Arnim, of Kröchlendorff, Royal Chamberlain and a member
of the Upper House.
The Minister-President himself, Otto Edward Leopold, was born at
Schönhausen on the 1st April, 1815.
His earliest youth, however, was not passed at his ancestral estate in
the Alt Mark, but in Pomerania, whither his parents had removed in the
year 1816. By the decease of a cousin they had succeeded to the knightly
estates of Kniephof, Jarchelin, and Külz, in the circle of Naugard. At
Kniephof, where his parents took up their residence, Bismarck passed
the first six years of his life, and to Kniephof he returned in his
holidays from Berlin, so that this Pomeranian estate of his parents may
be regarded as the scene of his earliest sports.
These estates were held in fee from the Dewitz family, in the circle of
Pomerania, then known as the Daber and Dewitz circle, and were ceded
with the feudal rights to the Colonel August Frederick von Bismarck,
the great-grandfather of the Minister-President, on his marriage with
Stephanie von Dewitz. After the death of the Colonel, his three sons,
Bernd August, Charles Alexander (the Minister’s grandfather), and Ernst
Frederick (Royal Conservator of Palaces) possessed these estates in
common, until, on the partition of 12th August, 1747, they were handed
over to Captain Bernd August alone. He bequeathed them to his son, the
Deputy of the Daber-Naugard circle, and to Captain August Frederick von
Bismarck and his sister Charlotte Henrietta, who was married to Captain
Jaroslav Ulrich Frederick von Schwerin. By a deed dated the 7th of
August, 1777, August Frederick became the sole possessor, and bequeathed
them to Charles William Frederick von Bismarck, the father of the
Minister-President.
The knightly estate of Kniephof is about a (German) mile from Naugard to
the eastward; its situation is pleasant, being surrounded by woods and
meadows, close to the little river Zampel. Even in the last century the
beautiful gardens and carp-lake were famous.
Jarchelin, formerly called Grecholin, some quarter of a mile distant from
Kniephof, which is incorporated with the parish of the former place. A
small stream runs through this village.
Külz is nearer to Naugard; the church there was originally a dependency
of Farbezin; formerly it possessed oak and pine forests, and the hamlet
of Stowinkel was planted with oaks.
In the year 1838, Captain von Bismarck ceded these estates to his two
sons, who farmed them for three years in common, but then divided
them so that the elder, Bernhard, retained Külz, while the younger,
the Minister-President, took for his share Kniephof and Jarchelin.
When, after his father’s decease in 1845, the Minister-President took
Schönhausen, Jarchelin was surrendered to the elder brother. Kniephof
was retained by Count Bismarck until 1868, when, after the purchase of
Varzin, it passed into the possession of his eldest nephew, Lieutenant
Philip von Bismarck.
As the possessor of Kniephof, the Minister sat till 1868 for the ancient
and established fief of the Dukedom Stettin in the Upper Chamber. On its
cession the King created him a member of that chamber for life. In the
adjacent estate of Zimmerhausen, belonging to the Von Blanckenburgs,
Otto von Bismarck was then and afterwards a frequent guest. The
youthful friendship which he then contracted with the present General
County Councillor Moritz von Blanckenburg, a well-known leader of the
Conservative party in the Chamber of Deputies and at the Diet, remains
unshaken to the present day.
[Illustration: THE CRADLE.]
About the Easter of 1821, Otto von Bismarck entered the then renowned
school of Professor Plamann, in Berlin (Wilhelmstrasse 130), where his
only surviving elder brother Bernhard then was. Bismarck remained in this
place till 1827, when he left it to pursue his more classical studies at
the Frederick William Gymnasium. He was there received into the lower
third class—his elder brother having by that time reached the second
class.
His parents were accustomed to pass the winter months in Berlin, and
during those times received both their sons at home, so that the boys
ever retained feelings of relationship to the home circle, although not
always there.
From the year 1827 both brothers became chiefly residents at the Berlin
establishment of their parents, and were committed to the care of a
faithful servant, Trine Neumann, from Schönhausen, who still lives at the
Gesund-Brunnen, at Berlin, though she no longer wears the black and red
petticoat of her native spot. Well qualified masters attended, especially
during the absence of the parents in the summer time. By their aid they
became acquainted with several of the modern languages. Among these
tutors, the first was M. Hagens in 1827, then a young Genevese, named
Gallot, and in the year 1829, a certain Dr. Winckelmann, unquestionably a
clever philologist, but a man of no principle, who vanished one morning
with the cash-box, and left his charges behind with Trine Neumann. This
occurred at the residence of the parents in Behrenstrasse No. 39; they
afterwards resided at No. 52, in the same street, and subsequently on the
Dönhofsplatz. At this time Otto von Bismarck laid the foundation of his
prowess in English and French, which he ulteriorly brought to perfection.
It is evident that labor, care, or expense were not spared by the
parents to foster the talents of these gifted children. This was,
indeed, a special duty with their mother, a lady of great education, who
combined with many accomplishments the sentimental religious feeling of
her period, and had inherited the liberal views of her father. Madame
von Bismarck was no doubt a distinguished woman, not only esteemed
for her beauty in society, but exercising considerable influence in
society. Her activity, which zealously espoused modern ideas, was
probably less wanting in insight than in persistency, but from that
very cause operated unfavorably in the management of the estates. The
conduct of agriculture suffered under numerous and costly institutions
and experiments, reducing the family income to a considerable extent,
especially as the brilliant winter establishment in Berlin, and the
summer visits to watering-places, demanded extensive resources. She
evidently sought at a very early age to awaken ambition in her sons; it
was particularly her desire that the younger son, Otto, should devote
himself to a diplomatic career, for which she considered him especially
fitted, while the elder brother was from the first destined for the
commission of Provincial Councillor (_Landrath_). Both these aspirations
were fulfilled, but not in their mother’s lifetime; she had long died
when her younger son entered on diplomatic life, but her maternal
instinct is honored by her early perception of the path by which Bismarck
was to attain the highest distinction. How often must Bismarck have
thought of his mother’s heartfelt wish, in his position as ambassador in
Frankfort, Petersburg, and Paris! How frequently his earliest friends
must have exclaimed, “Bismarck! had your mother only survived to see
this!”
In contradistinction to the wise, ambitious, but somewhat haughty mother,
his father, a handsome, personable, and cheerful man, full of humor and
wit, rather represented the heart and mind, without very great claims to
strong intellect, or even knowledge. Strangely enough, the cultivated and
literary Charles Alexander von Bismarck, transformed from a diplomatist
into a cavalry officer by the command of the Great Frederick, educated
his four sons for the army.
This cavalier, of French sentiments, who subscribed to Parisian journals,
still preserved at Schönhausen—a custom not usual with the aristocracy
of the Marks—and who lived with great simplicity, but drank wine, and
ate off silver plate—brought up his sons like centaurs, and his greatest
pride was in the excellence of their horsemanship.
Bismarck’s father entered the Body-guard (white and blue), the commander
of which was also a Bismarck, and, as he often told his sons in later
times, “measured out the corn every morning at four o’clock to the men
for five long years.” He loved a country life, grew wearied in Berlin,
especially when he had grown somewhat deaf, but, with chivalrous
devotion to his lady wife, conformed to her wishes on this point.
[Illustration]
Madame von Bismarck, besides esteeming the company of talented persons
and scholars, was devoted to chess, of which she was a complete mistress;
but her husband’s amusement was the chase to the end of his life. How
strangely the old gentleman pursued this pastime we learn from a letter
of Bismarck’s to his newly-married sister, in the latter part of 1844;
very characteristic of the relations maintained by the son and brother.
Now you have departed, I have naturally found the house very
lonely. I have sat by the stove smoking and contemplating
how unnatural and selfish it is in girls who have brothers,
and those bachelors, to go and recklessly marry, and act as
if they only were in the world to follow their own sweet
wills; a selfish principle from which I feel that our family,
and myself in proper person, are fortunately free. After
perceiving the fruitlessness of these reflections, I arose from
the green leather chair in which you used to sit kissing and
whispering with Miss and Oscar, and plunged wildly into the
elections, which convinced me that five votes were mine for
life or death, and two had somewhat lukewarmly supported me;
while Krug received four, sixteen to eighteen voted for Arnim,
and twelve to fifteen for Alvensleben. I therefore thought it
best to retire altogether. Since then I have lived here with
father; reading, smoking, walking, helping him to eat lampreys,
and joining in a farce called fox-hunting. We go out in the
pouring rain, or at six degrees of frost, accompanied by Ihle,
Bellin, and Charles, surround an old bush in a sportsmanlike
way, silent as the grave, as the wind blows through the cover,
where we are all fully convinced—even perhaps my father—that
the only game consists of a few old women gathering faggots—and
not another living thing. Then Ihle, Charles, and a couple
of hounds, making the strangest and most prodigious noise,
particularly Ihle, burst into the thicket, my father standing
perfectly stock still, with his rifle just as if he fully
expected some beast, until Ihle comes out, shouting “hu! la!
la! fuss! hey! hey!” in the queerest shrieks. Then my father
asks me, in the coolest manner, if I have not seen something;
and I reply, with most natural air of astonishment, nothing in
the world! Then, growling at the rain, we start for another
bush, where Ihle is sure we shall find, and play the farce
over again. This goes on for three or four hours, without my
father, Ihle, and Fingal exhibiting the least symptom of being
tired. Besides this, we visit the orangery twice a day, and the
sheep-pens once, consult the four thermometers in the parlor
every hour, mark the weather-glass, and since bright weather
has set in have brought all the clocks so exactly with the sun,
that the clock in the library is only one stroke behind all
the rest. Charles V. was a silly fellow! You can understand
that, with such a multitude of things to do, we have no time
to visit parsons; as they have no votes at the elections, I
did not go at all—impossible. Bellin has been for these three
days full of a journey to Stendal he made, and about the coach
which he did not catch. The Elbe is frozen, wind S. E. E.,
the last new thermometer from Berlin marks 8° (27° Fahr.)
barometer rising 28.8 in. I just mention this to show you how
you might write more homely particulars to father in your
letters, as they amuse him hugely—who has been to see you and
Curts, whom you visit, what you have had for dinner, how the
horses are, and the servants quarrel, whether the doors crack,
and the windows are tight—in short, trifles, facts! Mark me,
too, that he detests the name papa—_avis au lecteur!_ Antonie
wrote him a very pretty letter on his birthday, and sent him
a green purse, at which papa was deeply moved, and replied in
two pages! The Rohrs have lately passed through here without
showing themselves; they baited at the Inn at Hohen-Göhren
for two hours, and sat, wife and children and all, with ten
smoking countrymen, in the taproom! Bellin declared they were
angry with us; this is very sad and deeply affects me! Our
father sends best love, and will soon follow me to Pomerania—he
thinks about Christmas. There is a _café dansant_ to-morrow at
Genthin; I shall look in, to fire away at the old Landrath, and
take my leave of the circle for at least four months. I have
seen Miss ——; she has moments when she is exceedingly pretty,
but she will lose her complexion very soon. I was in love with
her for twenty-four hours. Greet Oscar heartily from me, and
farewell, my angel; don’t hang up your bride’s rank by the
tail, and remember me to Curts. If you are not at A. by the
eighth—I’ll!—but enough of that. Entirely your own “forever,”
BISMARCK.
Otto von Bismarck, on his sixteenth birthday, as his brother had
been before him, was confirmed at Berlin, in the Trinity Church by
Schleiermacher, at the Easter of 1830. The same year he went to board
with Professor Prévost, the father of Hofrath Prévost, now an official
in the Foreign Office under Bismarck; and as the house was very remote
from the Frederick William Gymnasium in the Königs Strasse, he quitted
it for the Berlin Gymnasium, Zum Grauen Kloster. Bismarck, after a year,
passed from Professor Prévost to Dr. Bonnell, afterwards director of the
Frederick-Werder Gymnasium, then at the Grauen Kloster, but who had not
long before been Bismarck’s teacher at the Frederick William. Bismarck
remained with him until, at Easter, 1832, he quitted the Kloster after
his examination, to study law.
This is an outline of Bismarck’s life in his boyhood and school-days;
let us endeavor to form some picture of the lad and youth, from the
reports of his tutors and contemporaries.
We see Junker Otto leaving his father’s house at a very early age, as
did his brother. The reasons for this we can not assign, but no doubt
they were well meant, although scarcely wise. Bismarck used subsequently
himself to say that his early departure from the paternal roof was any
thing but advantageous to him. Perhaps his mother was afraid he might get
too early spoilt; for with his gay nature and constant friendliness, the
little boy early won all hearts. He was especially spoilt by his father,
and by Lotte Schmeling, his mother’s maid, and his own nurse.
At the boarding-school of Plamann in Berlin, whither he was next brought,
he did not get on at all well. This then very renowned institution had
adopted the thorough system of old Jahn, and carried out the theory of
“hardening up,” then fashionable, by starving, exposure, and so forth—not
without carrying it to extremes in practice. Bismarck, who had always
submitted meekly to all his masters, could not, in later days, refrain
from complaining bitterly of the severity with which he was treated in
this institution. He was very miserable there, and longed for home so
much, that when they were out walking, he could not help weeping whenever
he saw a plough at work. The masters were especially obnoxious to him
on account of the strictness with which they insisted on gymnastics
and athletic sports, from the hatred of the French they methodically
preached, and by the tough German usage they exercised towards the little
scion of nobility. In his paternal house, Bismarck had not been educated
in class-hatred, as it is called; on the contrary, his mother was very
liberal, and had no sympathy with the nobility. Marriages between nobles
and citizens were then much more unfrequent; Madame von Bismarck had
very likely encountered some slights from the proud families of the Alt
Mark and of Pomerania, and caste feeling could scarcely have been felt
by Bismarck in his childhood. It was not any want of sympathy with his
school-fellows, but the democratic doctrines of some of the masters,
which roused the Junker in the bosom of the proud lad. We shall see that
in later years it was the incapacity of two masters at the Graue Kloster
which caused them to handle him ungently, because of his noble birth,
and thus impelled him to resistance.
It is easy to understand that Otto von Bismarck, as long as he stayed at
the hateful Plamann Institute, and at the Gymnasium, longed ardently for
the holidays, for these times are the bright stars in the heaven of every
schoolboy.
[Illustration]
And how was the holiday journey performed in those days from Berlin
to Kniephof in the Circle Naugard? The stagecoach of Nagler—then the
pride of Prussia—set off in the evening from Berlin, and arrived at
Stettin at noon the next day. There were not over-good roads at that
time from Berlin to the capital of Pomerania. From Stettin young
Bismarck proceeded, with horses sent by his parents, to Gollnow, where
his grandfather was born, and where proverbially there was a fire once
a fortnight. In Gollnow he slept at the house of an aged widow named
Dalmer, who held some relation to the family. This aged lady used to tell
the eager lad stories of his great grandfather the Colonel von Bismarck,
who fell at Czaslau, and who once lay in garrison at Gollnow with his
regiment of dragoons—the Schulenburg Regiment, afterwards the Anspach
Bayreuth. After almost a century, the memory of the famous warrior and
huntsman remained alive. Stories were told of the Colonel’s fine dogs
and horses. When he gave a banquet, not only did the sound of trumpet
accompany each toast, but the dragoons fired off volleys in the hall, to
heighten the noise. Then the Colonel would march with the whole mess,
preceded by the band and followed by the whole regiment, to the bridge
of Ihna, where the Wooden Donkey stood. This terrible instrument of
punishment—riding the Donkey was like riding the rail—was then cast into
the Ihna, amidst execrations and applause. “All offenders are forgiven,
and the Donkey shall die!” But the applause of the dragoons could not
have been very sincere, for they knew very well that the Provost would
set up the Donkey in all its terrors the very next morning; therefore
they only huzzaed to please their facetious Colonel.
[Illustration]
This is a picture of garrison life under King Frederick William I. There
still exists a hunting register belonging to this old worthy, which
reports that the old soldier in one year had shot a hundred stags—an
unlikely event nowadays. One of the first sportsmen of the present
day—H.R.H. Prince Frederick Charles of Prussia—shot three hundred head
of game between the 18th of September, 1848, and the 18th of September,
1868, pronounced “worthy of fire.” A correspondence of the old Colonel’s
is still extant, which evinces a highly eccentric stanchness; in this
his cousin, the cunning diplomatist Von Dewitz, afterwards Ambassador
to Vienna, is severely enough handled. It was doubtless from these
statements of the acute colonel of cavalry that the Great Frederick did
not allow his son, Charles Alexander, to accompany him to Vienna in the
Embassy, but ordered him to become a cornet, with some very unflattering
expressions concerning the diplomatist.
The next day young Otto von Bismarck used to leave Gollnow, and thus
on the third day he reached Kniephof, where for three weeks he led a
glorious life, troubled only by a few holiday tasks. Among the most
pleasant events of holiday time were visits to Zimmerhausen, to the
Blanckenburgs, which possessed an additional charm from a sort of
cheese-cake prepared in this locality.
From Plamann’s school, Bismarck passed to the Frederick William
Gymnasium; and here he immediately attracted the attention of a master
with whom he was afterwards to be more closely associated, and of whom
mention will afterwards be made in this work. This gentleman (the
Director, Dr. Bonnell) relates:—“My attention was drawn to Bismarck on
the very day of his entry, on which occasion the new boys sat in the
schoolroom on rows of benches in order that the masters could overlook
the new comers with attention, during the inauguration. Otto von Bismarck
sat—as I still distinctly remember, and often have related—with visible
eagerness, a clear and pleasant boyish face and bright eyes, in a gay and
lightsome mood among his comrades, so that it caused me to think, ‘That’s
a nice boy; I’ll keep my eye upon him.’ He became my pupil first when he
entered the upper third. I was transferred at Michaelmas, 1829, from the
Berlin Gymnasium to the Graue Kloster, to which Bismarck also came in the
following year. He became an inmate of my house at Easter, 1831, where he
behaved himself in my modest household, then numbering only my wife and
my infant son, in a friendly and confiding manner. In every respect he
was most charming; he seldom quitted us of an evening; if I was sometimes
absent, he conversed in a friendly and innocent manner with my wife, and
evinced a strong inclination for domestic life. He won our hearts and
we met his advances with affection and care—so that his father, when he
quitted us, declared that his son had never been so happy as with us.”
Bismarck to this day has preserved the most grateful intimacy with Dr.
Bonnell and his wife; even as Minister-President he loved to cast a
passing glance at the window of the small chamber he had occupied in
Königsgraben No. 18, while he resided with Dr. Bonnell. The window is now
built up. The powerful minister and great statesman ever remained the
friendly and kindly Otto von Bismarck towards his old teacher. He sought
his counsel in the selection of a tutor for his sons, and afterwards sent
them to the Werder Gymnasium, that still flourishes under the thoroughly
excellent guidance of Bonnell.
Among the favorite masters of Bismarck at the Frederick William
Gymnasium, he distinguished Professor Siebenhaar, an excellent man,
who subsequently unfortunately died by his own hand. He found himself
welcomed at the Graue Kloster by Koepke with great friendship—his youth
alone prevented his being placed in the first class. Besides Bonnell,
he here found a great friend in Dr. Wendt; Bollermann, however, and the
mathematician Fischer, raised the Junker in him in an unwise manner. He
also got into many disputes with the French Professor, and learnt English
in an incredibly short space of time, in order not to be submitted to the
test of the French Professor; as it was allowed to the pupils to choose
either English or French for a prize theme.
As a pupil, in general, Bismarck’s conduct preserved him almost entirely
from punishment, and seldom was he amenable to censure. He exhibited
such powers of understanding, and his talents were so considerable,
that he was able to perform his required tasks without great exertion.
He even at that time exhibited a marked preference for historical
studies—especially that of his native Brandenburg, Prussia, and Germany.
He laid the foundations of his eminent historical attainments, afterwards
so formidable to his opponents in parliamentary discussion, in these
youthful years. The style of his Latin essays was always clear and
elegant, although perhaps not, in a grammatical sense, always correct.
The decision on his prize essay of Easter, 1832, was, _Oratio est lucida
ac latina, sed non satis castigata_. (The language is clear and Latin,
but not sufficiently polished.)
[Illustration]
On his departure for the University, Bismarck was not seventeen years
of age, and possessed none of the broad imposing presence he later
attained; his stature was thin and graceful. His countenance possessed
the brightness of youthful liberality, and his eyes beamed with goodness.
His eldest son Herbert now recalls in his likeness the vivid image of his
father in those last days of his pupilage. Bismarck has inherited his
tall stature from his father, who, with his fine presence and cultured
manners, had been a personage of most aristocratic appearance. But in
general the elder son, Bernhard, was more like his father than the
younger brother.
When the cholera broke out in Berlin, in 1831, in the general cholera
mania, Bismarck was desired by his father to return home so soon as the
first case had declared itself in that city. Like a true schoolboy,
it was utterly impossible for him to receive the news too soon. He
hired a horse, and several times rode to the “Frederick’s field,”
from which district the cholera was expected. He, however, fell with
the horse by the new Guard House, and was carried into his dwelling
with a sprained leg. To his greatest annoyance he was now obliged to
remain for a considerable time in bed, and endure the approach of the
cholera to Berlin, before he could leave. But he never lost his gayety
and good humor on this account. Bonnell, as might be expected, was
greatly alarmed, when, on returning home, he learnt that Bismarck had
tumbled from the horse and had been carried to his room; but he was
soon comforted by the good temper with which the patient recounted the
particulars of the accident.
[Illustration]
Bismarck awaited his convalescence with patient resignation, and when he
was finally able to enter upon his journey to Kniephof, an event took
place owing to the strange cholera measures caused by the cholera mania.
Travellers by stage, for instance, might not alight at such places as
Bernau or Werneuchen on any account, but the coaches drove side by side
until their doors touched and then the exchanges were effected, while
the local guard paraded with spears in a manner almost Falstaffian. In
another place, Bismarck was allowed to alight, but he could enter no
house; there was a table spread in the open street, where tea and bread
and butter were provided for travellers, and the latter breakfasted,
while the inhabitants retired to look upon them in abject terror. When
Bismarck called to a waitress to pay her, she fled shrieking, and he was
obliged to leave the price of his breakfast on the table. The saddest
case was that of a lady traveller, who was proceeding as governess to
Count Borck’s mansion, in Stargard. This poor girl dreaded travelling,
and got into the condition which so outwardly resembles an attack of
cholera. The doctors of Stargard were in an uproar, so the poor governess
was put into quarantine in the town jail. Bismarck himself went into
quarantine, and was first locked up in the police office at Naugard,
and afterwards at his native place. His mother, it should be mentioned,
had taken every precaution then in fashion, and had engaged a retired
military surgeon, named Geppert, who had seen much of the cholera during
his residence in Russia, as a cholera doctor, for her immediate service.
With this doctor Bismarck was used to hold arguments, for though his
conversation was rude and desultory, he could tell the story of his
voyages in a practical and animated manner. Madame von Bismarck would
have been very angry had she had an idea of the carelessness with which
her son observed the severe quarantine rules. However, despite all the
pains which the wise lady took, cholera showed itself on her estate,
while all the neighbors were free from it. At Jarchelin Mill two boys
had bathed, against the regulations; they had eaten fruit and drunk
water—they were sacrificed to the disease. It can be easily understood
what a nuisance the quarantine, even in its mildest form, must have been
for Bismarck, who never believed in the infectious nature of cholera. In
later times, when the two brothers farmed the estates, there was a case
of cholera in Külz; no one dared to enter the house; the two Bismarcks
went in, and declared that they themselves would not quit it until they
were properly relieved. This shamed every one, and proper medical aid was
obtained.
As a boy and youth Bismarck was not usually very animated. There was
rather a quiet and observant carriage in him, especially evinced by
the “blank”, eyes, as they were once very aptly called by a lady;
these qualities were soon accompanied by determination and endurance
in no insignificant degree. He was obliging and thoughtful in social
intercourse, and soon acquired the reputation of being “good company,”
without having transgressed, in the ways so common among social persons.
He never allowed himself to be approached without politeness, and
severely censured intruders. His mental qualifications very early showed
themselves to be considerable; memory and comprehensiveness aided him
remarkably in his study of modern languages. He exhibited a love for
“dumb” animals even as a child; he went to much expense in fine horses
and dogs; his magnificent Danish dog, so faithful to him, long continued
a distinguished personage in the whole neighborhood of Kniephof. Riding
and hunting were his favorite pastimes. He has always been an intrepid
and elegant horseman, without being exactly a “riding-master.” To this he
added the accomplishment of swimming; he was a good fencer and dancer,
but averse to athletic sports. The gymnastic ground of the Plamann
Institution had caused him to regard that branch of culture with profound
dislike. As a boy and youth he had grown tall, but he was slim and thin;
his frame did not develop itself laterally until a later time; his face
was pale, but his health was always good, and he was, from his youth
up, a hearty eater. A certain proportion of daring was to be noticed in
his carriage, but expressed in a kindly way; his whole gait was frank
and free, but with some reticence. Thus we do not find that he retained
many friends of his boyhood and pupilage, a time usually so rife in
friendships for most men. But such friendships as he did form, continued
for life. Among Bismarck’s friends of the Gymnasium period, were, besides
Moritz von Blanckenburg, Oscar von Arnim, afterwards his brother-in-law,
William von Schenk, afterwards the possessor of Schloss Mansfeld and
Member of the Chamber of Deputies, and Hans von Dewitz, of Gross Milzow
in Mecklenburg. At the University he added to these Count Kayserlingk of
Courland, the American Lothrop Motley,[27] Oldekop of Hanover, afterwards
Councillor of War, and Lauenstein, subsequently pastor of Altenwerder on
the Elbe.
[Illustration]
In conclusion, we should not omit to say that he from youth preserved
a proper attitude towards his domestics; they almost all loved him,
although his demands were heavy on them at times. Afterwards, while
administering the Pomeranian estates with his brother, he censured one of
his Junior inspectors very severely. The inspector sought to turn aside
the reproaches by pleading his own dislike to farming, that he had been
forced to it, and so forth.
“I have long attested myself,” the young man concluded.
“Far from sufficient!” replied Bismarck, dryly.
This reply brought the inspector to his senses; since that time he has
become an excellent agriculturist, and to this day thinks gratefully of
Bismarck’s “Far from sufficient!”
This “Far from sufficient!” is associated in the Alt Mark with the name
of Bismarck from olden time; in the country speech of the district it is
proverbial.
“Noch lange nicht genug! (Far from sufficient!) quoth Bismarck.”
“Ueber und über! (Over and over!) quoth Schulenburg.”
“Grade aus! (Straight forward!) quoth Itzenplitz (Lüderitz?).”
“Meinetwegen! (I care not!) quoth Alvensleben.”
It would be interesting to trace the origin of these peasant proverbs.
The Alvenslebens since early times were reputed “mild;” they are the
_Gens Valeria_ (_Valerius Poblicola_) of the Alt Mark. The Schulenburgs
are “severe,” the _Gens Marcia_ (_Marcius Rex_) of that country; and
certainly we can perceive some affinity between these qualities and the
proverbs; but what may the “Noch lange nicht genug! sagt Bismarck!” mean?
Perhaps the energetic striving, the essential characteristic of the whole
family in a greater or lesser degree: an element of progress which ever,
in their own and others’ action, exclaims, “Far from sufficient!”
CHAPTER II.
UNIVERSITY AND MILITARY LIFE.
[1832-1844.]
Göttingen.—The Danish Dog and the
Professor.—Duels.—Berlin.—Appointed Examiner.—Anecdotes
of his Legal Life.—Bismarck and his Boots.—Meeting
with Prince, now King, William.—Helene von Kessel.—Aix
la Chapelle.—Greifswald.—Undertaking the Pomeranian
Estates.—Kniephof.—“Mad Bismarck.”—His Studies.—Marriage of
his Sister.—Letters to her.—Norderney.—Saves his Servant
Hildebrand’s Life—“The Golden Dog.”—A Dinner Party at the
Blanckenburgs.—Von Blanckenburg.—Major, now General, Von
Roon.—Dr. Beutner.
Otto von Bismarck was anxious to enter himself at Heidelberg, but his
mother objected to it, because she was afraid that at this University
her son would contract the habit, to her detestable, of drinking beer;
and she therefore chose, at the advice of a relative—the Geh. Finanzrath
Kerl, who was a great authority with her in matters of learning—the
University of Göttingen, where Kerl had himself studied. Bismarck
agreed to the change; he longed for the joys of academic freedom, the
more delightful to him from the strictness with which his education
had hitherto been conducted, as well as from his little knowledge of
student life. In Berlin student life was somewhat tame, obtruding itself
nowhere; and Bismarck had also been withheld from all contact with it. He
entered into possession of his new liberty with enthusiasm, not easily
comprehensible to the students of the present day. With the entire
recklessness of a sturdy constitution he plunged into its every enjoyment.
Even before entering at Göttingen he had fought his first duel at Berlin.
His opponent was a brave lad of the Hebrew persuasion, named Wolf. It is
true he fought, but, like the ancient Parthians, he fought flying. The
arrangements must have been somewhat unscientific, in fact quite out of
form, for Bismarck was wounded in the leg, while he cut off his Jewish
opponent’s spectacles!
In the didactic epic “Bismarckias,” by Dr. G. Schwetschke, of which
several editions have appeared at Halle, containing many a good joke, the
following aptly alludes to the present period of the hero’s life:—
From his boot soles now is shaken
All the school dust: higher wavelets
Bear the ship of the aspirant;
Weighed on deck is every anchor,
And spread out is every canvass,
While the youthful flag of freedom,
Gaily fluttering in the breezes,
Bears, “Nitimur in vetitum!”
Jolly days of wild enjoyment!
Votaries now gay assemble
Of the nine Castalian sisters;
Crowd together in new temples;
Crowd around the fragrant altars
Of old Bacchus and Gambrinus:
And the neophyte so gayly
Brings the liquid sacrifices.
While the battle-loving Mavors
Opes the clanging doors of combat;
Dost thou hear the clash of weapons?
Dost thou mark the shouts of contest?
Ha! how gleam the flashing sword-blades;
With the tierce and carte resounding:
As the hewer hews so fiercely,
Hews, and his fellow-fighter heweth!
E’en then sped a slender red line
(A red line of blood and iron),
Through the life of our young hero
Göttingen, Berlin, and Greifswald
Echo deeds of noble daring,
Done in years that now have fleeted;
“Days departed, days all silent.”
As old Ossian once out carolled.[28]
[Illustration]
When Bismarck came to Göttingen, as we have said, he had not the
remotest notion of student life; its customs were all unknown to him,
nor did he learn any thing of them immediately, as he there found no
friend of any degree of intimacy. By a certain Herr von Drenckhahn, whom
he had formerly seen for a short time, he was introduced to a circle
of Mecklenburgers, who belonged to no academical body, but passed a
tolerably jolly life. With these he travelled into the Harz, and on
his return it was agreed that the glories of real student life should
be opened to him. Bismarck gave his fellow-travellers a breakfast in
celebration of the journey, and here matters went on somewhat madly.
At length somebody threw a bottle out of the window. Next morning the
Dominus de Bismarck was cited to the Deanery, and, obedient to his
academical superiors, he set forth on the way. He came in a tall hat, a
gay Berlin dressing-gown, and riding-boots, accompanied by his enormous
dog. The Dean stared at this fantastic garb, and only dared to pass
the huge creature when Bismarck had called him in. On account of this
illegal dog, his fortunate possessor was at once fined five thalers—then
came a painful investigation into the bottle-throwing matter. The former
official was not satisfied with the simple explanation of Bismarck, that
the bottle had been thrown out of the window; it must have flown out.
He was determined to know how this had happened, and was not content
until the culprit had clearly shown him how he had held the bottle, and
by proper muscular action had given it the necessary impetus. Somewhat
annoyed by this inquiry, he set forth on his way home, and was greatly
incensed at the laughter with which he was encountered by four young
students of the corps of Hanover—although it was impossible not to
laugh at his dress. “Are you laughing at me?” inquired Bismarck of the
foremost of the party, and received as a reply, “Hm! that you must very
well see!” In his inexperience Bismarck hardly knew how to proceed;
he felt that he was in the right way to encounter a duel, but he knew
nothing of the proper form. He was afraid of exposing himself, when
suddenly—happy thought!—the “dummer Junge” (foolish fellow) occurred to
him. He “growled,” and felt exceedingly proud when he was challenged by
the four Hanoverians. He then took the necessary steps, and obtained
weapons from the corps of Brunswickers. But not one of these four duels
was destined to be fought; for a sly agent of the Hanoverians, who lived
in the same house with Bismarck, had seen that he was made of the stuff
of which good student-chums are formed, and induced his four companions
to revoke or receive suitable apologies—in short, the Fuchs (freshman)
Bismarck “sprang,” _i.e._, joined the Hanoverians, and became a member
of their union. At this there was great rage among the Brunswickers,
for it was contrary to etiquette to obtain weapons from one corps and
then join another; but of this Bismarck knew nothing. The Consenior of
the Brunswickers challenged the Fuchs; they at once engaged, and Mr.
Consenior was led off with a slash across the face, after he had roused
Bismarck’s wrath by several flat sword-strokes of a very ungentle
kind. To this duel there succeeded during the first three terms some
twenty duels more. Bismarck fought them all with success, and was only
wounded in one instance by the fracture of his adversary’s sword-blade.
The scar is still to be seen on the Minister-President’s cheek. After a
duello-dispute, this “blood” was held not to be “good,” as it was caused
by accident, to the great annoyance of his opponent. The latter still
asserts that it was “good;” at least, being now the Deputy Biederwig, he
held an animated controversy with the Minister-President on the question
very recently in the White Saloon.
Amidst the stormy career pursued by Bismarck in Göttingen, it is only
natural that he had no leisure to attend the classes; nevertheless he
received very good testimonials as to his industry; but old Hugo remarked
that he had never seen Herr von Bismarck at lecture. He believed that the
lectures of the celebrated jurist would be so well attended that he might
safely omit to attend; unfortunately, the old gentleman had only had
three hearers, and had observed the absence of Bismarck with pain.
[Illustration]
Once Bismarck went home in the vacation, but in his velvet coat, and with
the student’s manner; he found little approbation at the hands of his
mother, who did not find his whole appearance in harmony with the picture
of the diplomatist she fondly expected to see.
In Berlin, too, whither Bismarck returned in the autumn of 1833, he
found the license of student life far too sweet to enable him to sever
himself from it. When the examination was threatening him like a terrible
spectre, he summoned up determination, and went to lecture for the first
time; he went a second, and the last time; he saw that, even under
Savigny, he could not profit as much from jurisprudence as he required
for his examination, in the short time remaining to him. He never
reappeared at lecture. But he passed his examination with credit at the
appointed time, with the aid of his own industry, his great gifts, and by
a clever _memoria technica_.
During his Berlin student life he resided with Count Kayserlingk, of
Courland, who afterwards became Curator of the University of Dorpat; he
learnt from him to set a value on music, and often heard him perform;
he was especially fond of Beethoven. After Kayserlingk, an American
named Lothrop Motley became his companion. This gentleman won himself
fame as the author of a History of the Rise of the Dutch Republic, and
other works, was sent as United States Ambassador to Vienna, and is now
Ambassador to Great Britain.
When Bismarck became sworn, after his examination about Easter, 1885, in
the capacity of Auscultator (Examiner) he again occupied apartments in
the Behrenstrasse, jointly with his brother Bernhard, who, about that
time, after having served four years in the Dragoon Regiment of Guards,
exchanged the sword for the pen, passed his examination in the following
year, and became Referendary in the government at Potsdam. During
Bismarck’s service as clerk in the City Police, he exhibited his sense
of humor by many pranks, of which we could give an account were we able
to vouch for their authenticity—these are, however, so numerous, that
we are sure many are ascribed to Bismarck, properly the acts of others.
The following anecdote we know to be genuine: The Auscultator was taking
the protocol of a true Berliner, who finally so tried the patience of
Bismarck by his impudence, that he jumped up, and exclaimed, “Sir, behave
better, or I’ll have you kicked out!” The magistrate present patted the
zealous official in a friendly way upon the shoulder, and said quietly,
“Herr Auscultator, the kicking out is _my_ business.” They proceeded
in taking evidence, but very soon Bismarck again sprang to his feet,
thundering out, “Sir, behave yourself better, or the magistrate shall
kick you out!” The face of the Court may be imagined.
Bismarck had a great deal to do in divorce cases, which were then treated
in a manner in Prussia—with a thoughtlessness still sadly remembered,
although long since receiving a more solemn and worthier attention. The
young jurist was deeply impressed by a lady with whom he had to arrange
a divorce, when she decisively refused to attest it. She had determined
otherwise. Bismarck, who had never met with such a refusal, was
disconcerted, and at last went and consulted with the senior jurist, and
requested his aid. Arrogantly shrugging his shoulders at the inexperience
of his young colleague, he entered into the matter, and endeavored with
all his wisdom and authority to induce the poor woman to consent to the
divorce. She, however, continued her refusal; the matter ended without
any result. Bismarck never forgot this circumstance.
To the more amusing events of that time belongs the history of how
Bismarck taught a boot-maker in the Kronenstrasse punctuality. This man,
after many express promises, had neglected him on several occasions.
When this again occurred, the shoemaker was roused at six o’clock the
next morning by a messenger with the simple question: “Are Herr von
Bismarck’s boots ready yet?” When the maker said, “No,” he retired,
but in ten minutes another arrived. Loud rang the bell. “Are Herr von
Bismarck’s boots ready yet?” “No;” and so it went on every ten minutes
until the boots were ready in the evening. The shoemaker no doubt never
disappointed him again.
To the social circles in which the brothers Bernhard and Otto von
Bismarck then moved, there belonged the intimately related house of
Madame General von Kessel. She was a sister of Bismarck’s mother and
resided in Berlin, possessing many daughters. Here he found pleasant
and amiable society, and the affection of a relative. Another house
he was very fond of visiting was that of his cousin, the Count von
Bismarck-Bohlen, who was also accustomed to pass the winter in
Berlin with his family. During the winter of 1835-’6, Bismarck was
also introduced to the Court festivities, and took part in the usual
amusements.
At a Court ball he first met the Prince William, son of H.M. the King
Frederick William III., as His Royal Highness was then called, to
distinguish him from the Prince William, brother of H.M. the King.
Bismarck was introduced to the Royal Prince at the same time as a
certain Herr von Schenk; the latter was as tall as Bismarck, and also a
legal official. Looking at the two stately forms of these youths, Prince
William said merrily, “Well! Justice seeks her young advocates according
to the standard of the Guards.”
[Illustration]
This was the first meeting between the King William, afterwards to be,
and his Bismarck; the first scarcely expected ever to wear a crown, but
Bismarck most certainly never thought that he should be that King’s
powerful Premier and most faithful servant.
One evening Bismarck appeared in the saloons of Madame von Kessel, quiet,
in low spirits, his hair, smoothly combed down, a melancholy mode of
“Frisur,” wearing a long waistcoat of woollen stuff, in trowsers of large
pattern, checked blue and green; in short, his plight was one of the
most comical kind. In a gentle conciliatory way he accepted all the jokes
it created, and patiently allowed a sketch of himself to be taken in this
costume. This caricature is still in the possession of the family, and
is highly characteristic. About a year afterwards, his cousin, Helene
von Kessel, herself a skillful artist, painted a portrait of him; this
very excellent likeness displays his bountiful head of hair, and forms
a striking contrast to the “Three Hairs,” with which the Berlin Punch,
“Kladderadatsch,” usually endows the Premier. This cousin, Helene von
Kessel, at present a canoness at Lindow, remained during her whole life
on the most intimate terms with the Minister-President. Once, on taking
a journey for some weeks into Pomerania, his cousin begged him to take a
letter for her and deliver it. He took it; but when he returned, and she
asked him about it, he looked in his pockets; he happened to have the
same coat on, and brought out the letter, but, with great presence of
mind, declared that he had not delivered it in order to entirely cure his
cousin of the habit of intrusting him with letters. Among the surprises
he delighted to prepare, some were very curious. Thus, on one occasion,
at Kniephof, he was in deep conversation with his cousins, when the door
suddenly opened, and four young foxes dashed into the room, and in their
terror they jumped upon the sofas and chairs till they tore them to rags.
The company, after their first surprise, could not help bursting into a
scream of laughter.
In the year 1836, Referendarius von Bismarck left the Department of
Justice for that of Administration. As a future diplomatist, it was
necessary to serve in that; therefore he went to Aachen (Aix la Chapelle)
to the Crown Court. Count Arnim-Boytzenburg was at that time President;
he possessed a great reputation, and Bismarck hoped that he should be
able to effect a conjunction with this rising star, and follow in his
course. He was received by the Arnim family with great kindness, and
at first was very industrious; but he soon was carried into the vortex
of society which existed during the season at the celebrated baths of
the Imperial city. He associated much with Englishmen, Frenchmen, and
Belgians, and in their company made several excursions to Belgium,
France, and the Rhine province. He was especially the favorite of the
English, as they were delighted to find in him an amiable gentleman,
possessing a perfect mastery over their language. These connections,
however, got him into many scrapes.
He, in consequence, quitted “het ryk van Aaken” (the realm of Aachen),
and, in the autumn of 1837, had himself transferred to the Crown Office
at Potsdam. About the same time, in 1838, he entered the Jäger Guard, to
fulfill his military duties. But the merry mess-room life did not last
long, and in the same year he exchanged into the second battalion of
Jäger, at Greifswald, hoping to attend the lectures of the Agricultural
Academy of Eldena.
To such studies he was compelled by the sad state into which the
administration of the paternal estates in Pomerania had fallen, and
which threatened total ruin. On this account the sons proposed to their
father to grant them the Pomeranian estates, as the only way in which
the estates could be saved. His parents acceded to the proposition, and
retired to Schönhausen, under the faithful care of Bellin, to there pass
the evening of their lives. His father continued to reside there until
1845; but his mother, long an invalid, sought better medical attendance
in Berlin, and died in that city on the 1st of November, 1839.
At first, the elder brother, Bernhard von Bismarck, undertook the sole
administration of the estates, Otto remaining until the end of his year
of service, until Easter, 1839, at Greifswald, but he soon perceived
that it was impossible to combine the military service with agricultural
studies. He soon fell into wild student ways again, there being nothing
better to do in that place.
In the summer of 1839 Bismarck entered on the administration of the
Pomeranian estates, and carried it on, in conjunction with his brother,
until the summer of 1841. At this time the elder brother was elected
Landrath of the circle of Naugard, married, and settled in the chief
town. By this the common household of Kniephof was broken up; and they
divided the estates in such a manner that the elder brother retained
Külz, the younger receiving Kniephof and Jarchelin.
The younger brother had already desired to divide the estates, as he
spent more than his elder brother, and the income of the common treasury
therefore fell short. Until his marriage, Bernhard would not consent
to this, the brotherly affection between them having always been very
sincere.
Bismarck became Deputy to the circle in his brother’s place, and in
that capacity conducted the management of Naugard, and was chosen
representative in the Provincial Pomeranian Diet; but, after the first
session, wearied by the unimportant duties assigned to him, he resigned
his functions; his place was filled by his brother.
When Bismarck, at the age of twenty-three, in the most pressing
circumstances, without credit or capital, undertook the conduct of the
wasted estates, he evinced prudence and activity, and, as long as bitter
want pressed upon him, he found solace in agricultural activity; but
when, by his means, the estates began to rise in value, and every thing
went on smoothly, and he was able to rely upon able subordinates, the
administration gave him less satisfaction, and he felt the circle in
which he moved too contracted for him. In his youthful fancy, he had
formed a certain ideal of a country Junker; hence he had no carriage,
performed all his journeys on horseback, and astonished the neighborhood
by riding six to ten miles[29] to evening assemblies in Polzin. Despite
of his wild life and actions, he felt a continually increasing sense of
loneliness; and the same Bismarck who gave himself to jolly carouses
among the officers of the neighboring garrisons, sank, when alone, into
the bitterest and most desolate state of reflection. He suffered from
that disgust of life common to the boldest officers at certain times,
and which has been called “first lieutenant’s melancholy.” The less real
pleasure he had in his wild career, the madder it became; and he earned
himself a fearful reputation among the elder ladies and gentlemen, who
predicted the moral and pecuniary ruin of “Mad Bismarck.”
The mansion of Kniephof is pleasantly situated, but was built in a very
simple style by its first possessor, the brave Cavalry Colonel Frederick
August, who lay in garrison at that time at Gollnow, hard by, and who
personally superintended its construction. The whole arrangements of the
dwelling—little changed to this day—are of the sober simplicity of the
era of Frederick William I. The then Major von Bismarck had purchased
these estates chiefly to gratify his passion for the chase, for game
then abounded on it, especially deer, very few of which remained when
his grandson, Otto, came to reside there.
Kniephof did not then behold stag huntings with horses and mastiffs, as
in the previous century. But strange scenes occurred when the youthful
owner, tortured by dark thoughts, dashed restlessly, to kill time,
through the fields, sometimes in solitude, and sometimes in the company
of gay companions and guests; so that Kniephof became a Kneiphof far and
wide in the land.[30] Strange stories were current about their nocturnal
carouses, at which none could equal “Mad Bismarck” in emptying the great
beaker filled with porter and champagne. Tales of a wild character were
whispered in the circles of shuddering ladies—the power of imagination
being rife in dear old Pomerania. At each mad adventure, each wild burst
of humor, a dozen myths started up, sometimes of a comical, sometimes a
terrible character, until the little mansion of Kniephof or “Kneiphof”
was looked upon as haunted. But the ghosts must have had tolerably
strong nerves, for the guests, slumbering with nightcaps of porter and
champagne, were often roused by pistol-shots, the bullets whistling over
their heads, and the lime from their ceilings tumbling into their faces.
And yet the guests at this time relate that they were “miserably”
bored at Bismarck’s nocturnal political discussions with his intimate
friends, Dewitz of Mesow and Bülow of Hoffelde—so different in character,
but so inseparable from him. Young gentlemen in those days were not
so accustomed to political discussions as the youth of our time, and
political parties were then nearly unknown. It should be stated,
however, that Otto von Bismarck, despite his wild life, stood in high
consideration, and he was heard with avidity, though the affair might be
“miserably” tedious. “He made an impression on all of us—and I think at
that time he was somewhat of a liberal!” a companion of those days told
us, who complained of being “wretchedly bored” amongst the rest. The
estimation in which Bismarck was held was in nowise confined to youth;
grave men of position, in a greater or less degree, felt that from this
fermenting mass would be formed an excellent and strong wine. Many of
the electors desired to nominate him for the Landrath, but Bismarck,
decidedly enough, refused this.
And then there came a day, on which the furious revelry of “Kneiphof”
was silent; the old mansion, as if by enchantment, grew quiet and
respectable, so that the world was first astonished and then whispered,
“A lady will become mistress of Kniephof!”
But no lady appeared at Kniephof—it was a mistake, perhaps a
disappointment. It was then said, “Bismarck is going to India!” He did
not go, though, perhaps, he for a time desired to do so.
For the rest, it must be said that Bismarck fought chivalrously with the
demons around him. He read much, and continually received parcels of
books from his bookseller, chiefly historical works, but also theological
and philosophical works. Spinoza he studied deeply. The melancholy he
had contracted by the events which befell him on the Rhine, he strove to
dissipate by travelling. About this time he visited France and England;
he even resumed the position of Referendarius under the Crown at Potsdam,
and was very industrious; his friends, among whom were Baron Senfft
von Pilsach, afterwards Chief President of Pomerania, and his brother,
considering him remarkably adapted for the services of the State,
although at that time he assumed a very surly attitude in reference to
the bureaucracy. It was probably about this time, at a party, where
his President somewhat slighted him, as he was inferior to him as an
official, that he begged the President in a friendly way to consider that
in society Herr von Bismarck was as good as Herr von Anybody Else—which
scarcely pleased the President. Another of his chiefs once pretended not
to notice the presence of Bismarck, went to the window and began drumming
with his fingers, whereupon Bismarck went to the window and stood beside
him, drumming the Dessau March. It was very likely the same official who
allowed Bismarck to wait in the antechamber for an hour, and received the
answer to his short question “What do you want?”—“I came here to beg for
leave of absence, and now demand leave to resign.” To about this time may
be referred a report of Bismarck’s as to certain expropriations, which
attained much celebrity. He might have been appointed Landrath in Posen
or Prussia Proper, had he been willing to go. In this report Bismarck
freely and faithfully spoke his opinion as to the injustice of many
expropriations, and his friends still quote the classical phrase, “You
could not pay it me in cash, if you were to turn the park of my father
into a carp lake, or the grave of my deceased aunt into an eel swamp!”
He decided in the end to go to Schönhausen, and become Landrath in the
original seat of his race. His father was ready to resign Schönhausen
to him, but this plan also failed. In the autumn of 1844, on the 30th
of October, he had the delight, after his return from a longer journey,
to betroth his only sister Malwina, to whom he was ever affectionately
attached, to the friend of his youth, the Landrath of Angermünde, Oscar
von Arnim. The affection of the brother and sister, people proverbially
compared to that of a bridegroom to a bride.
After the death of his father, which took place in November, 1845, the
sons so divided the property, that the elder retained Külz and received
Jarchelin, the younger retaining Kniephof and adding to it Schönhausen.
From that time Bismarck resided in Schönhausen, became Dyke Captain
there, and afterwards Knight’s Deputy in the circle of Jerichow in the
Saxon Provincial Diet at Merseburg. In that capacity he attended the
first meeting of the United Diets in 1847, on which occasion he first
attracted the notice of the public to himself in more extended circles.
We shall now give some letters written by Bismarck to his sister at this
troubled time, as they afford an insight into his peculiarities. We
called this a troubled time, as the management of Kniephof and Jarchelin
afforded him no satisfaction, for we find him continually flitting about
between Pomerania, Schönhausen, and Berlin. In Berlin itself he changed
his residence very often. On the morning of such removal he used to
say abruptly to his servant, “Bring all my things to No. so-and-so, in
so-and-so Street; I shall be there by bed-time.” The things were placed
on tables, chairs, and sofa, spread out; for Bismarck loved, as he said,
to hold a review of his worldly possessions.
We must add that the disquiet he then suffered had a particular reason,
and we shall find some allusions to this in his letters.
I.
MADEMOISELLE,—I have just received your boots from Glaser,
and while they are being packed up I write to say that I am
fairly amused here, and hope you enjoy your quadrille as much.
I was pleasantly surprised to hear you danced with ——. If the
boots are not properly made I am sorry, for you did not write
any thing to me on the subject, so I had them made like the
old ones. To-morrow I go with Arnim to Schönhausen, where we
propose to have a hunting-party. Father has given permission
to us to kill a stag, but it is almost a pity at the present
time of year. It has been freezing since yesterday. Among you
Samoyeds the snow ought to be as high as the house. There are
no news here—all is mourning—the King of Sweden also is dead. I
feel ever more how alone I am in the world. To your quadrille
you will probably only see —— from here. I have been able to
excite jealousy. Take care that ice is brought in at Kniephof,
and as much as possible, or you will have to drink lukewarm
champagne in summer. Greet every one, especially father.
B.
Berlin, Wednesday, 1844.
* * * * *
II.
DEAR MALDEWINE,—Only because it is yourself, I will depart from
one of my principles, by writing a letter of congratulation
_purement pour féliciter_. I can not come myself to your
birthday, because my viceroy is not here to relieve me; but I
would risk the assertion, that according to your incredulous
bridegroom’s view, you would be convinced that I came to you on
business, and not for your own sake. Looking at it carefully, I
don’t know what I can wish you, for you can remain as you are;
but I could wish that you had two more sisters-in-law; one who
is gone, and one who will not arrive. Good-bye, my heart—greet
my father, Arnim, Antonie, etc.; in about a fortnight I hope to
see you. Count the days till then, and kiss your affectionate
brother,
BISMARCK.
Kniephof, 27th June, 1844.
* * * * *
III.
DEAR LITTLE ONE,—Being too much engaged in packing to attend
the Landwehr drill, I will only just write a couple of lines,
as I shall have no time to do so after this, just now. Very
shortly after the wool-market I represented our vagabond of a
Landrath, have had many fires, many sessions in the burning
heats, and much travelling through sandy bramble moors, so
that I am completely tired of playing the Landrath, and so are
my horses. I am hardly at rest for a week, and now I must go
serve my country as a soldier! You see[31] “how men of merit
are sought after, the undeserver may,” etc. I am sorry to
say I have had to buy another horse, as mine is not adapted
for evolutions; however, I must try it, with Grosvenor for
a reserve. The latter pulls the carriage like an old coach
horse; I must therefore pay for it, you can tell Oscar (as soon
as the rape harvest is current), which I had firmly resolved
not to do—if he did not draw well. [Here a blot.] Forgive the
preceding Arabic; I have not a moment’s time to write this
billet over again, for I must set out in an hour, and much
packing has yet to be done. We shall remain for fourteen days
in garrison at Crüssow, by Stargard, afterwards near Fiddichow
and Bahn, opposite Schwedt. If you write to me, address me at
Stargard, Poste Restante; I shall make no apologies for my long
silence, and, if the case arise, regard you in the same way.
Good-bye—my portmanteau is yawning at me in expectation of
being packed, and it looks very blue and white and military all
around me.
When we reach Fiddichow, Oscar can visit me at Bahn. I will let
him know. Your faithful brother,
BISMARCK.
Kniephof, the 21st.
* * * * *
IV.
Norderney, 9th Sept., 1844.
DARLING LITTLE ONE,—A fortnight ago I intended to write to
you, without being able, amidst the throng of business and
pleasure, to do so. If you are curious to know the nature of
the business, I am really unable, with the sparseness of my
time and paper, to give you a complete picture, as its series
and nature, according to the change of ebb and flood, every
day produces the most manifold variety. Bathing, for instance,
only takes place at flood tide, the waves being then strongest;
this happens between six in the morning and six in the evening,
every day one hour later, and is enjoyed with the advantages of
a breezy, rainy, summer morning, sometimes in God’s beautiful
nature with the glorious impressions of land and water,
sometimes in my landlord’s _Mousse Omne Fimmen_ bed, five feet
long, with the delightful ideas inspired by a seaweed mattress.
In the same way, the _table d’hôte_ changes its times between
one and five o’clock, its component parts varying between
shell-fish, beans, and mutton on the odd days, and soles, peas,
and veal on the even days of the month, in which case sweet
porridge with fruit sauce accompanies the former, and currant
pudding the latter. That the eye may not envy the palate, a
lady from Denmark sits beside me, whose appearance fills me
with sorrow and longings for home, for she reminds me of the
pepper at Kniephof, when it is very thin. Her mind must be
heavenly, or Fate was very much unjust to her, for she offers
me, in a sweet voice, two helpings from every dish before her.
Opposite sits the old minister ——, one of those beings we only
behold in dreams, when we are somnolently ill; a fat frog
without legs, who opens his mouth before every morsel like a
carpet-bag, right up to his shoulders, so that I am obliged
to hold on to the table for giddiness. My other neighbor is a
Russian officer; a good fellow, built like a bootjack, with a
long slender body, and short crooked legs. Most of the people
have left, and our dinner company has melted from two or three
hundred down to twelve or fifteen. My holiday at the baths is
now over, and I shall leave by the next steamboat, expected
the day after to-morrow (the 11th) for Heligoland, and then
by Hamburg to Schönhausen. I can not, however, fix the day
of my arrival, because it is uncertain that the steamer will
arrive the day after to-morrow; the notices say so, but they
often retard the later passages if there are not sufficient
passengers to bear the expense. The Bremen steamships have
long since stopped, and I do not like travelling by land, the
roads being so bad that it is only possible to reach Hanover
by the third day, and the post-coaches are abominable. If,
therefore, the steamer does not come the day after to-morrow, I
propose to go by sailing vessel to Heligoland; thence there is
a twice-a-week boat to Hamburg, but I do not know on what days.
Father wrote me word that you would go to Berlin on the 15th;
if I therefore find, on reaching Hamburg, that I can not reach
you per steamer by the 15th, I shall try and get the Potsdam
boat, and go direct to Berlin, to talk about art and industrial
matters with you. If you receive this letter in time, which,
considering the slowness of the post here, I scarcely think you
will, you might send me a couple of lines to Hamburg—Old Stadt
London Hotel—to say whether father has changed his travelling
plans. The bathing here pleases me, and I should not mind
stopping a few days longer. The shore is splendid—very flat,
even, soft sand, without any stones, and a surf such as I have
neither seen in the Baltic nor at Dieppe. Even when I am only
knee-high in the water, a wave comes as high as a house (but
the houses here are not so high as the palace at Berlin),
turns me over ten times, and throws me on the sand some twenty
paces off—a simple amusement which I daily enjoy, _con amore_,
as long as the medical men advise. I have made great friends
with the lake; every day I sail for some hours, fish, and
shoot at seals. I only killed one of the last; such a gentle
dog’s face, with large, handsome eyes; I was really sorry. A
fortnight ago we had heavy storms; some twenty ships, of all
nations, came ashore here, and for several days the shore was
covered with innumerable fragments of wreck, utensils, goods in
casks, bodies, clothes, and papers. I have, myself, had some
sample of what a storm is. With a piscatorial friend, Tonke
Hams, I had sailed in four hours to the island of Wangeroge; on
our return we were tossed about for twenty-four hours in the
little boat, and in the first hour had not a dry thread on us,
although I lay in an apology for a cabin; fortunately, we were
well provided with ham and port wine, or the voyage would have
been very distressing. Hearty greetings to father, and thanks
for his letter; the same to Antonie and Arnim. Farewell, my
treasure, my heart. Your loving brother,
BISMARCK.
* * * * *
V.
MADAME,—It is only with great difficulty that I withstand my
desire to fill a whole letter with agricultural complaints,
about night-frosts, sick cattle, bad rape and bad roads,
dead lambs, hungry sheep, scarcity of straw, fodder, money,
potatoes, and manure; in addition to that, John outside is, as
continually as badly, whistling a wretched Schottische, and I
have not the cruelty to forbid him, as music may perhaps soothe
his despair in love. The ideal of his dreams, at her parents’
desire, has lately refused him, and married a frame-maker. Just
my case, except the frame-maker, who is rasping away in the
bosom of the future. I _must_, the Devil take me! get married,
I can again see, plainly; since, after my father’s departure,
I feel lonely and forsaken, and this mild, damp weather makes
me melancholy, and longingly prone to love. I can not help it,
in the end I must marry ——; every body will have it so, and
nothing seems more natural, as we have both remained behind.
She is somewhat cold to me, but that is the way with them all;
it is pretty not to be able to change one’s affections like
one’s shirt, however seldom the last event may occur. That
on the 1st I bore the visit of several ladies with polite
urbanity, our father will have informed you. When I came from
Angermünde, I was cut off from Kniephof by the floods of the
Hampel, and as no one would let me have horses, I was obliged
to remain for the night at Naugard, with many merchants and
other travellers who also awaited the subsidence of the waters.
Afterwards the bridges over the Hampel were carried away, so
that Knobelsdorf and I, the Regents of two mighty Circles, were
surrounded here on a little patch by the waters, and there was
an anarchical interregnum from Schievelbein to Damm. About
one o’clock one of my wagons with three casks of spirits was
carried away by the flood, and in my little river the Hampel,
I pride myself to say, a man driving a pitch-cart was carried
away by the flood and drowned.[32] Besides this, several houses
in Gollnow fell in, a criminal in the jail hanged himself for
being flogged, and my neighbor, the proprietor ——, in ——, shot
himself on account of the want of fodder; three widows and an
infant mourn in tearless sorrow beside the bloody coffin of the
suicide. An eventful time! It is to be expected that several of
our acquaintance will quit the scene, as this year, with its
bad harvest, low prices, and the long winter, is difficult to
be encountered by embarrassed proprietors. To-morrow I expect
Bernhard to return, and am glad to be quit of the District
business, very agreeable in summer, but very unpleasant during
this weather and rain. Then I shall, should Oscar not write
otherwise, come to Kröchelndorf and thence to you.
I have nothing new to tell you from hence, except that I am
still satisfied with Bellin—the thermometer now at 10 P.M.
marks +10° (50° Fahr.). Odin still continues lame of his right
fore paw, and enjoys the society of his Rebecca with touching
affection all day, and I was obliged to chain her up for
domestic misbehavior. Good-night, _m’amie, je t’embrasse_.
Thine, etc., etc.,
BISMARCK.
Kniephof, 9th April, 1845.
* * * * *
VI.
MOST DEAR CREUSA,—I have not taken the smallest key with me,
and can assure you from experience that it never leads to
the slightest result to look for keys; for which reason, in
such circumstances—very rare with me, with my love of order—I
at once turn to the locksmith to have a new one made. With
important ones, such as safes, one has the choice of altering
the wards and all the keys in use. I can see that I shall soon
end my letter; not from malice, because you only wrote a page
to me—it would be terrible to think that you would consider
me so wretchedly revengeful; but from sleepiness. I have been
riding and walking all day in the sun—saw a dance in Plathe
yesterday, and drank a good deal of Montebello; the one gives
me bile, the other the cramp. Add to this, in swallowing, a
painful swelling of the uvula, a slight headache, cramped legs,
and sun-burn, and you can understand that neither my thoughts
of you, my angel, nor the melancholy howling of a shepherd dog,
locked up for too great a passion for hunting, can keep me
longer awake. I will only tell you that the Kränzchen (club) is
not very much visited; a very pretty little Miss ——, sister of
——, was there, and that most of the young and old ladies are
lying in childbed, except Frau von ——, the little one who wore
the light blue satin; and that I go to-morrow to an æsthetic
tea in ——. Sleep well, my idolized one—it is eleven o’clock.
BISMARCK.
K., 27th April, 1845.
* * * * *
VII.
MA SŒUR,—_Je t’écris pour t’annoncer_ that I shall be with you
at Angermünde at the latest by the 3d March, if you do not
write to me before that you will not have me. I think then,
after I have enjoyed a sight of you for three or four days, to
carry off your husband to attend a meeting of the Society for
the Improvement of the Working Classes, on the 7th March, at
Potsdam. My journey, previously intended, has been delayed by
all sorts of Dyke suits, and Game cases, so that I shall leave
here by the 28th at earliest. I am to be invested here with the
important office of Dyke Captain, and I have also considerable
chance of being elected to the Saxon (not the Dresden) Diet.
The acceptance of the first office would be decisive as to the
settlement of my residence—that is, here! There is no salary,
but the administration of the position is of importance to
Schönhausen and the other estates, inasmuch as it very much
depends upon this whether we may occasionally get under water
again or no. On the other hand, my friend ——, who is determined
to send me to East Prussia, pushes me hard to accept the office
there of H. M. Commissioner for Improvements. Bernhard urges
me, contrary to my expectation, to go to Prussia. I should like
to know what he thinks himself about it. He declares that by
taste and education I am made for Government service, and must
enter it, sooner or later. Greet Oscar, Detlev, Miss ——, and
the other children heartily, from your devoted brother,
BISMARCK.
Schönhausen, 25th February, 1846.
* * * * *
VIII.
_Dear Arnimen_,—I have within the few last days been obliged to
write so many letters, that I have only left by me one sheet,
stained with coffee, which I will not, however, deprive you of.
My existence here has not been the most agreeable. To make
inventories is tedious, particularly when the rascally valuer
has left one three times in the lurch for nothing, and one has
to wait in vain for several days. Besides this, I have lost a
considerable amount of corn by hail, on the 17th, and finally
I am suffering from a very annoying cough, although I have
drunk no wine since Angermünde, and have taken every precaution
against catching cold, can not complain of want of appetite,
and sleep like a badger. At the same time every one laughs at
me for my healthy looks, when I declare I am suffering from
the chest. To-morrow, at noon, I will visit Redekin, the next
day go to Magdeburg, and then, after a day or two’s sojourn,
throw myself immediately into your arms. I can not tell you of
any further news here, except that the grass was fourteen days
in advance, in comparison with Angermünde, and the crops, take
them altogether, very middling. The results of the inundation
are very annoyingly visible, I am sorry to say, in the garden.
Besides the many trees I took during the winter from the
plantation as useless, it now appears that all the other
acacias and the ashes are dried up, so that little remains;
seventeen of the limes at the lower end of the great avenue
are either dead or appear dying visibly. I shall have those
showing a leaf anywhere topped, and see whether this operation
will save them. In fruit trees, and especially plums, there has
been a considerable loss. In the fields, and more particularly
in the meadows, there are many places in which the grass has
not grown, because the upper vegetative soil has been washed
away. The Bellins and the rest of the Schönhausers send their
respects; the former suffer much from to-day’s heat. Sultan not
less. Thermometer 21° (68° Fahr.) in the shade. Many greetings
to Oscar. Your consumptive brother,
BISMARCK.
Schönhausen, 22d July, 1846.
In the course of this year Bismarck obtained his first decoration, for
many years the only one which graced his breast, but which he wears to
this day beside the stars of the highest Orders of Christendom. In the
summer of 1842, he was on duty as Cavalry Officer with the Stargard
Landwehr Squadron of Uhlans, in exercise at Lippehne, in the Neumark, and
one afternoon was standing with other officers on the bridge over the
lake, when his groom Hildebrand, the son of the forester on his estate,
rode one of the horses to water and for a bath in the lake, close by the
bridge. Suddenly the horse lost footing, and as the terrified horseman
clung tight to the bridle, it fell, and Hildebrand disappeared in the
water. A terrible cry of horror resounded; Bismarck threw off his sword
in an instant, tore off his uniform, and dashed headlong into the lake to
save his servant. By great good fortune he seized him, but the man clung
to him so fast in his death agony, that he had to dive before he could
loose himself from him. The crowd stood in horror on the shore; master
and servant were both given up for lost—bubbles rose to the surface,
but the powerful swimmer had succeeded in releasing himself from the
deadly embrace of the drowning man; he rose to the surface, raising his
servant with him. He also brought him safely to land, of course in an
inanimate condition; but Hildebrand soon recovered, and the following
day was well. This little town, some of the inhabitants of which had
witnessed the brave rescue, was in great commotion; they expressed their
feelings by the Superintendent meeting the noble rescuer in full official
dress, and wishing him happiness for the mercy of the Almighty. Hence he
obtained the simple medallion “for rescue from danger,” the well-known
Prussian Safety Medal, which may be seen beside so many exalted stars on
the breast of the Minister-President. Bismarck is proud of this mark of
honor, and when on one occasion a noble diplomatist, perhaps not without
a tinge of satire, asked him the meaning of this modest decoration, then
his only one, he at once replied: “I am in the habit sometimes of saving
a man’s life!” The diplomatist abased his eyes before the stern look
which accompanied the lightly spoken words of Bismarck.
In the spring of 1843, Lieutenant von Bismarck sought and obtained
permission from the Landwehr Battalion of Stargard to enter the 4th
Uhlans (now the 1st Pomeranian Regiment, Uhlans, No. 4), then in garrison
at Treptow and Greiffenberg, and do some months’ duty. Bismarck certainly
aimed, when he entered this regiment, to serve as an officer in the
active army, and to become acquainted with the regular routine of duty,
although he did not say so, and allowed the officers of Uhlans to believe
that he had only been induced by their agreeable society to join them.
It is true he lived with them as a comrade, and often entertained them,
almost every Saturday, as his guests at Kniephof; but they had frequently
been his guests before, and afterwards they became so constantly.
The Regimental Commandant, at that time, of the 4th Uhlans, was
Lieutenant-Colonel von Plehwe, who fell in a duel as General, a person
well known in many circles, and of a very distinguished character. Plehwe
was one of the few important men, without an idea of what there was “in”
the wild Landwehr Lieutenant, who joined his regiment in so strange
a manner, for he did not know how to deal with Bismarck in any way.
Half-way between Treptow, where the staff of the regiment was quartered,
and Greiffenberg, where Bismarck lay, was a rendezvous known as “The
Golden Dog” (_Zum Goldenen Mops_); to this place the severe Regimental
Commandant was accustomed to summon the officers of Greiffenberg when
he wanted to treat them to—compliments, or rather the very opposite to
compliments. Oh! how often did Lieutenant von Bismarck ride to “The
Golden Dog” upon his Caleb!
Caleb was Bismarck’s favorite charger; a dark chestnut, not very
handsome, but a good hunter; the warmer the work the more furious his
pace. Caleb has carried his master at such speed impossible to relate
without being supposed guilty of fabulation; but these rides were
nevertheless true, according to the most credible witnesses. It was Caleb
who bore Bismarck on that wild ride when the stirrup flew up to the
epaulet. How it happened, who can tell?—but the fact is sure.
Although Von Plehwe may have summoned Lieutenant von Bismarck a few
times too often to “The Golden Dog,” although he may have been commanded
to appear in full regimentals on more occasions than was necessary,
Bismarck even now tells his former comrades in the 4th Uhlans, “I spent
a very pleasant time with you!” He still chuckles with satisfaction
at the little practical joke when, in company with other officers, he
seated himself, smoking a cigar, on the bench before the Burgomaster of
Treptow’s house. This official was an enemy of tobacco, and officers
were even then forbidden to smoke in the streets. It was in vain that
the Burgomaster, who in other things was a very excellent man, informed
them that it was no hotel, but the Burgomaster’s house; Bismarck remained
immovable, until the severe Commandant appeared in full uniform, and
raised the tobacco blockade.
During the Christmas holidays of 1844, there was a dinner-party at the
house of the youthful Frau von Blanckenburg, at Cardemin in Pomerania.
This pious and intellectual lady—born a Von Thadden-Triglaff—had great
influence over Bismarck, and had confirmed the ancient family friendship
between the Blanckenburgs and the Bismarcks. After dinner four gentlemen
sat in the Red Saloon under the lamp, who were to meet again after many
years, although in different positions, but still fighting on the same
side. Next to the host, the retired Examiner, Moritz von Blanckenburg,
sat Otto von Bismarck, then in the same official position; beside the
latter, Major von Roon, whose cradle was also in Pomerania; and, last,
Dr. Theodor Beutner, since 1855 editor-in-chief of the “New Prussian
Gazette,” popularly known as the _Kreuzzeitung_, from the cross on the
title-leaf.
CHAPTER III.
BETROTHAL AND MARRIAGE.
[1847.]
Falls in Love.—Johanna von Putkammer.—Marriage.—Meets King
Frederick William IV.—Birth of his First Child.—Schönhausen and
Kniephof with a New Mistress.
In the society and at the house of his friend and neighbor, Moritz von
Blanckenburg, Bismarck had often seen a friend of his noble hostess, who
greatly interested him. But he first became more intimately acquainted
with Fräulein Johanna von Putkammer on a trip which both of them made
in company with the Blanckenburgs. Bismarck soon became aware of the
affection he felt for the young lady, but he naturally found many
obstacles in learning—as may be readily understood—whether his affection
was returned by her. This would easily explain the inquietude of his
behavior, for even when assured of his attachment being returned, there
were still many difficulties to be surmounted.
We have already mentioned the reputation which “Mad Bismarck” had won
for himself among the elder ladies and gentlemen in Pomerania. The
consternation and horror may easily be imagined, in which the quiet
Christian house of Herr von Putkammer was plunged, on the receipt of a
letter in which Bismarck directly and frankly asked for the hand of his
daughter. But how much greater must have been his horror when the gentle
daughter of the house, in a modest but firm manner, acknowledged her
affection! “It seemed as if I had been felled with an axe!” old Herr von
Putkammer said, in describing his feelings at that time, in a drastic
tone. Even the story of the wolf, which always devours the meekest lambs,
did not console him. However, he was far removed from playing the tyrant
father, and he gave his consent, although with a heavy heart—a consent he
has never had reason to regret. Her mother, of a more spirited nature,
protested until Bismarck appeared in person at Reinfeld, and before her
eyes clasped his bride to his heart. With a flood of passionate tears,
she then consented to their union, and from that moment became the
warmest and most zealous friend of the man to whom she gave her beloved
daughter after so severe a struggle. Under the motto “All right,”[33]
Bismarck announces the fact to his sister, his “Arnimen.”
Between this betrothal and his marriage falls Bismarck’s first appearance
at the first United Diet.
On the 28th of July, 1847, Otto von Bismarck-Schönhausen married Johanna
Frederica Charlotte Dorothea Eleonore von Putkammer, born on the 11th of
April, 1824, the only daughter of Herr Henry Ernst Jacob von Putkammer,
of Kartlum, and the Lady Luitgarde, born Von Glasenapp of Reinfeld.
On the journey which Bismarck took after the wedding with his young wife
through Switzerland and Italy, he accidentally met his King Frederick
William IV., at Venice. He was at once commanded to attend at the
royal dinner-table, and his royal master conversed with him for a long
time in a gracious manner, particularly concerning German politics, a
conversation not, perhaps, without its influence on the subsequent and
very sudden appointment of Bismarck to the post of Ambassador to the
Federation; but it unquestionably laid the foundation for the favor with
which King Frederick William IV. always regarded Bismarck. For the rest,
he was so unprepared to meet his king and master at Venice, that he had
not even had time to take with him a court suit, and was obliged to
appear before his sovereign in borrowed clothes, which, considering his
stature, must have fitted him very badly.
[Illustration]
Bismarck now set up his domestic hearth at the old stone mansion of
Schönhausen. There, where his cradle once stood, in the following year
stood that of his eldest child, his daughter Marie; and though his actual
residence in Schönhausen only lasted a few years, he took with him his
domestic happiness thence to Berlin, Frankfurt, and St. Petersburg.
Nominally Schönhausen continued to be his residence until he became
Minister-President; and though he now prefers to live on his Pomeranian
estates to those in the Alt Mark, during his days of retirement, this
does not occur from any want of affection for his old home, but from a
feeling of delicacy towards his father-in-law, now a venerable man almost
eighty years of age, but still fresh and hale, who lives in the vicinity
of Varzin, and also because he finds in Pomerania three things for which
he would seek in vain at Schönhausen. The forest is not at Schönhausen
close round the house, as at Varzin, for at Schönhausen he has an hour’s
ride to reach the wood, and the forest he loves as an old friend. The
game about Schönhausen is also almost entirely destroyed, and the heavy
wheat soil there is either flat and hard, or cloddy, and therefore little
fitted for riding. Bismarck, as he ever was, remains a great horseman and
a zealous sportsman.
The marriage of Bismarck has been blessed with three children—Mary
Elizabeth Johanna, born the 21st August, 1848, at Schönhausen; Nicolas
Ferdinand Herbert, born the 28th December, 1849, at Berlin; William Otto
Albert, born the 1st August, 1852, at Frankfurt-on-the-Maine.
Amidst the severe battles of a time so rife in immeasurable
contradictions, Bismarck commenced his family life in a simple but
substantial manner, as befitting a nobleman of the Alt Mark or Pomerania;
and so he has been able to maintain himself even at the elevation at
which God the Almighty has placed him for the good of his native country.
That he may ever maintain it is the aspiration of every patriot, for in
him the fountain ever freshly runs, whence he draws continual renovation
for the service of his King and country.
[Illustration]
Book the Third.
LEARNING THE BUSINESS.
[Illustration: LEARNING THE BUSINESS.]
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
“UT SCIAT REGNARE.”
Bismarck’s Policy.—Its Gradual Growth and Political
Character.—Contrast with Lucchesini.—Bismarck’s Open
Honesty.—Vassal and Liege.—Liberalism a Danger.—Democracy a
Danger.—The Relative Positions of Prussia and Austria in the
Federation.—Gerlach’s Ideal Conservatism.
Bismarck has now to be politically tested, and amidst all the strange
eventualities in the remarkable history of Prussia, we perceive, first
as a counsellor, then as an actor, and finally as a guide, that the one
man emerges, a man ever the same, yet ever appearing to change. Otto von
Bismarck is best to be compared to a tree, which continues the same,
although gaining in height and strength by growth; whose lofty top, with
its wide-spreading leaves, alters its appearance at each new spring, to
a greater or lesser degree; it remains the same, even if the wind bends
the trunk, despite its toughest power of resistance, slightly aside; an
imperfect twig may be broken off by the storm, or a heavy rain-fall may
bare one of the deep roots, and abandon the growing power a prize to the
effects of the breeze and the sun.
The altered appearance which Bismarck at different times has presented,
has blinded many eyes; many thought he had grown into another man, as he
presented himself ever stronger, mightier, and of greater stature! Of
course, he has long since become too great, too strong, and too mighty
for his opponents, and some have found, in a manner not so entirely
agreeable, the influence of the wide-spreading tree with its potent
shadow.
There have certainly been alterations in the man, but none of them
inconsistent with the growth of the tree. The simile may not be accurate,
but it indicates the truth. Bismarck has himself pointed out the changes
which he has undergone very much better by the modest sentence, “I have
learnt something!” Perhaps he did not always learn the best, but he has
learnt more than many who now turn maliciously from him, because they
could not keep step with him; some others, also, because they would not.
We owe to Guizot the expression of the same thought, so moderately
phrased by Bismarck, in the pointed French remark, “_L’homme absurde seul
ne change pas!_” The word, however, is somewhat suspicious in the mouth
of the French statesman, for its utterance is _pro domo_, as an excuse
for various political apostasies.
Now, in Bismarck there is no trace of apostasy throughout his political
life, and perhaps in no statesman can an enduring political principle
be more easily discovered, and followed into detail—if we only
adhere to facts, and do not allow ourselves to be diverted by absurd
misinterpretations of his words, the diatribes of political opposition,
or the hollow declamation of foolish party babblers.
This is the more easy, as Bismarck is precisely the opposite of one of
his predecessors in the Foreign Office of Prussia. The cunning of the
Marquis of Lucchesini,[34] a predecessor of Bismarck, had become so
well known, so proverbial, that none of his negotiations ever led to any
thing, because whoever was representing the other side always commenced
with the conviction that Lucchesini would, in the end, outwit him. A
certain degree of confidence, however inconsiderable, is necessary on
both sides, if political arrangements are to end in results. Bismarck,
on the other hand, is a thoroughly honest politician—honest to such a
degree that his political adversary is sometimes puzzled, and suspects
some snare in his very openness. Bismarck is a thoroughly honest man, who
scorns every intentional deception on the part of his opponents.
We are well aware that this assertion will be met in many circles
with scornful contradiction; but it is nevertheless true, and we will
demonstrate the proposition. But they also err, who may perhaps believe
that we are of opinion that we have, in this, said something flattering
to the Minister-President; we merely acknowledge that this honesty has
been implanted in the nature of Bismarck by the Almighty, that it could
not but develop itself and become a sustaining principle; but such
acknowledgment does not constitute flattery.
Bismarck rode into the political lists in 1847 as a courageous, sensible,
and honorable man, and has held his place in the arena for more than
twenty years as a loyal champion of the King, both in single combat and
general battle. He has made mistakes in his innumerable contests, but he
has learnt from them, has gallantly paid in person, and never concealed
or denied his colors or insignia.
Even the most furious opponents of these colors and insignia can not deny
this.
We have not used the simile of the knightly tournament unadvisedly, for
the whole political faith of Bismarck is founded on a chivalric idea,
in the deep immovable conviction of his personal position towards the
Prussian sovereignty. The ultimate foundation of Bismarck’s political
action consists in his personal position as an Alt Mark vassal and
nobleman to his liege lord, the Margrave of Brandenburg, the King of
Prussia. It will be understood that this position is the ultimate, but
not precisely the only one; it is only the least, but also the inmost
circle, whence the other principles around him have evolved themselves,
according to his consciousness. As the liegeman stood in personal
relation to his lord, so the deputy stood to the King, and the relation
to the Regent was analogous to the relation of the Minister-President
and Chancellor of the Diet to the King and Chief of the North German
Federation. From this strong consciousness of the moral connection of
his own person with that of the sovereign, his liege, Bismarck’s whole
political acts arise and may be discerned.
King William is, however, aware of the construction which Bismarck places
upon their inter-relations, and in this, on the one hand, lies the
strength, on the other the weakness, of the position held by Bismarck, as
chief counsellor of the King. This hint may here suffice.
And if we now contemplate, from this point of view, the whole political
life of Bismarck—his speeches, his letters, his dispatches and
ordinances, the result of his exertions everywhere, from the beginning
until now—what do we find? The same loyal Brandenburg statesman,
who, in chivalrous and liege faith, has grown greater in courage and
self-sacrifice; learning more how to perform his functions as year by
year has passed away; with greater self-possession and good-humor before
the throne of his monarch; before that throne, in his conception, the
bulwark of Prussia and Germany, and defended by him with equal zeal
against inward detractors and outward foes.
At the first United Diet, in the year 1847, he was impressed with the
idea that liberalism might endanger the throne of his liege; it was not a
perfect conviction, but the daring phrase roused him; he supposed he saw
danger, and he instantly showed a firm front to it.
At that time he was but little acquainted with the use of parliamentary
weapons; his opponents were far more experienced in eloquence than
himself, and he stood, as it were, almost alone before a multitude; for
those of his own opinions, with the exception of the two Manteuffels,
perhaps, were still less experienced speakers than he; but the bravery
with which he encountered the word “liberal” deserved all praise. The
bold attitude with which he entered the arena revealed to his opponents
that the unknown Dyke Captain from the banks of the Elbe was not a man to
be undervalued by them; this they did not do; and the fierce irony with
which they, with more or less talent, overwhelmed him, betrayed the fact
that in this Junker the Crown had found a mighty defender.
When the second United Diet took place, the enemy of the kingdom was no
longer liberalism, but democracy, and Bismarck met this foe with the
most unhesitating conviction. But the nobleman who honors in the King of
Prussia his liege lord, is by no means the Aga, or Pasha, of an Oriental
Sultan, blindly obedient and adoring. The manly words of Bismarck were a
rebuke, not only to the low, but the high.
In 1849-’51 Bismarck occupied a position in the Diet, as one of the chief
leaders of the Conservative party against democracy. He entered into
the strife with ardor, both at Berlin and Erfurt; wherever he saw the
sovereignty of Prussia assailed, he sprang to the breach with decision.
He seemed to have a fine intuition for every thing hostile to his beloved
sovereignty.
When Ambassador at Frankfurt to the Federation, he at once recognized
the impending ruin of Prussia to consist in the false position she there
occupied, and he arrived at the conviction that the jealousy of Austria
would strive to retain Prussia in this position, and not only that, but
would employ itself in active measures, by which it should end in the
final destruction of Germany. He therefore resolved upon opposition to
Austria. This was not a very easy task; the compact between Prussia and
Austria had descended to him from his fathers as a sacred tradition. He
would readily have held out his hand, he would have desired earnestly to
remain true to tradition; nor did he remit in attempts and offers, until
he knew that there was a change coming over the policy of Austria not
tending to the good of Prussia and Germany. He then changed with military
precision. The vassal approached with full front before the throne of
his liege, even against Austria. He did not do it secretly, but openly
and honestly; every one might be able to tell how it fared with him
everywhere. He defined his position in writing from Frankfurt, from St.
Petersburg, from Paris, both by his own hand and by that of others.
[Illustration]
And when, in 1862, he entered upon the conflict inherited by him from the
new era, the result of the thorny fight, at the head of the government,
it was the mightiness of the kingdom, the position of his liege lord, for
which he fought for years with body and soul against the pretensions of
the parliamentary spirit, with glorious devotion and tough Brandenburg
tenacity.
The interior defense of the Prussian monarchy, in its inherent integrity,
the rehabilitation of the liberty of Germany, so important for its own
safety, and a dignified attitude towards foreign nations, constitute the
unity of the policy of Bismarck.
Liberalism, democracy, the inimical jealousy of Austria, the envy
of foreign nations, with its train of parliamentary spirit and
specialisms—such are the enemies of the Prussian sovereignty; and
Bismarck has, with equal courage and firmness, with as much insight as
success, fought openly and honestly against these. And if all outward
symptoms do not deceive us, he is now powerfully preparing against
another great foe of real sovereignty—that is, bureaucracy, still lying
armed to the teeth behind the Table of Green Cloth as its stronghold.
In these different contests it is quite possible that Bismarck may often
have erred; he may not immediately have found the right weapons, and he
may also not have employed them in the proper localities. It is certain
there is much to blame, much to deplore; but accept him in all that is
great and real, then most persons will voluntarily bow before the man,
who, for twenty years, has fought so great a battle, with visor down,
without false deceit or any kind of malice. Nor has the man earned his
hard victories without having had to pay for them.
Bismarck has not destroyed the enemies of the Prussian monarchy; this
is in the power of no man—nor perhaps was it within the sphere of his
intentions; but he has subdued them, and in greater or lesser proportion
made them serviceable to the interests of the Crown.
One of the chief difficulties in his political action is, on the one
hand to discipline these elements which so very unwillingly serve the
Prussian monarchy, and on the other to spare the perfectly intelligible
sensitiveness of ancient fidelity, and to conquer the readily understood
want of confidence of his own old coadjutors in the gay ranks of his new
allies. He is thus met with the idealistic conservatism of Gerlach, whose
organ was the “Neue Preussische Zeitung” for so many years. Gerlach’s
principal service consisted in the actual formation of a political
conservative party in Prussia—an idealism long revered by Bismarck, but
certainly not to be contained within its own bounds when opposed to those
demands which are made on a guiding statesman by the hard necessities
of daily life. The old conservative party of Prussia has made great
sacrifices, and is making them daily; but she makes them to the glorious
kingdom of Prussia, and it is a high honor to be the regnant party when a
Bismarck is the King’s first councillor. And, indeed, is it possible for
the conservative party to be otherwise than the reigning party in Prussia?
The tried Prussian patriotism of the conservatives will not allow
itself to be disconnected by details from the great statesman who has
emerged from their ranks; they know that Bismarck not only is frequently
compelled to pour his new wine into old bottles, but also to pour his old
wine into new bottles. The good is not always the enemy of the better,
but sometimes the bridge to the best and highest. The lightning does
not pursue the course where it finds the best conductor, but that in
which the sum of conduction is the most powerful. Bismarck’s real policy
consists in forcing parties unwilling to do so, to work and strive for
the monarchy. In royal Prussia no party can any longer exist with the
object of weakening the royal power. There will always continue to be a
number of those whose efforts are more or less openly directed to such an
end; but no party dare, as such, to acknowledge such an aim.
If we, then, see the unity of Bismarck’s policy to consist in the defense
of the sovereignty, it might almost seem as if this policy were of a
negative character; but this is only apparent, for such a defense leads
to positive creations, although at first sight they may appear as mighty
beginnings—such as the North German Confederation—and are not all so
evident to the eye, as may be seen on the map of the kingdom of Prussia
since 1866.
We shall now accompany Bismarck to the Assembly of the Three Estates of
the first United Diet, then from battle-field to battle-field at Berlin,
at Erfurt, and at Frankfurt, until those of Königgrätz and Nicolsburg,
and still farther, for the great contest is not yet fought out—the last
victory is not won. The statesman whom God will yet awaken to enter upon
the inheritance of Bismarck, and continue his work, will find new and
mighty armor, the creation of King William and Bismarck, in which to
encounter the enemy with the ancient Prussian war-cry, “_Mit Gott für
König und Vaterland!_”—“With God for King and Country!”
CHAPTER II.
THE ASSEMBLY OF THE THREE ESTATES.
[1847.]
The February Constitution.—Merseberg.—First Appearance of
Bismarck in the White Saloon.—Von Saucken.—Bismarck’s First
Speech.—Conservatives and Liberals.—The First of June.—Jewish
Emancipation.—Illusions Destroyed.
When King Frederick William IV. issued the February manifesto, in
1847,[35] and summoned the United Diet with the Chambers, he thought in
his royal great-heartedness to have accorded to his people a free gift of
his affection and his confidence, and to have anticipated many wishes;
but close behind the rejoicings which welcomed the patent of February,
there lay the bitterest disenchantment for the noble King.
The honorable old royalists of Prussia, who had been educated and had
grown up in the honest Prussian absolutism of Frederick William III.,
first looked with suspicion at this new royal gift; they could not at
all understand why their own King of Prussia should have thought it
necessary to summon a Parliament somewhat on the model of England, and
they foresaw all sorts of evils in the future, as they thoughtfully
shook their gray and honored heads. To these men, who at that time were
still very numerous, and whose influence was considerable, succeeded
those who certainly felt that the abuses of bureaucracy were no longer
curable by patriarchal absolutism, but who still thought that the King,
by this measure, had conceded the very utmost possible in that direction.
They saw in the patent the last fortress of the monarchy which must be
held against liberalism at any cost. In opposition to these royalists,
the host of liberals unfolded their gay banner in different columns.
They only could see in the February patent the starting-point of a
further movement, which, founded on the patent, might transform the
absolute state into a modern constitutional monarchy. There existed even
individuals who perceived that the patent would prove an obstacle to
their revolutionary tendencies, and desired to refuse its acceptance.
We will not criticise these parties, but it is certain that none of them
regarded the patent in the spirit of the royal donor—unless perhaps some
who had understood that the King, basing his action on the existing
Provincial Assemblies, proposed in a similar manner to erect a peculiar
Prussian Representative Monarchy. They beheld the February patent to be
no final measure, but the beginning of States Government, which could
only develop itself under specially favorable circumstances, and in
course of time.
Bismarck was one of the men who, although without absolutely expressing
the opinion, regarded the patent as the starting-point of a new order
of things, in common with the liberals, but not in the sense of a
constitutional monarchy, but comprehended it, as the King did, as a step
towards a peculiar and specifically Prussian State Government.
The Saxon Provincial Diet at Merseburg had chosen the Dyke Captain
and First Lieutenant von Brauchitsch of Scharteuke, in the Circle of
Jerichow, as Deputy at the United Diet, and had selected Dyke Captain von
Bismarck of Schönhausen as his representative. As Herr von Brauchitsch
was very ill, his representative was summoned.
Bismarck appeared in the White Saloon of the Royal Palace at Cölln on
the Spree, where the Three Estates’ Assembly held its Sessions, as a
representative of the Knight’s Estate of Jerichow, and a vassal and
chivalric servitor of the King. He was at that time, however, as liberal
as most of his associates; liberalism then floated in the air and was
inhaled; it was impossible to avoid it. Against many abuses it was also
justifiable; hence its mighty influence.
A conservative party, in the sense in which we wish it to be understood,
did not then exist; nor did the general confusion of opinions at the
time allow of the formation of true parties. It is true that Bismarck
met many men in the White Saloon, whose opinions were well known to him;
of these were his brother, the Landrath, his cousins, the Counts von
Bismarck-Bohlen and von Bismarck-Briest, his future father-in-law, Herr
von Putkammer, von Thadden, von Wedell, and many others—but unfortunately
these gentlemen in general, as Herr von Thadden once bluntly said of
himself, were not even bad orators, but no orators at all. Nor could the
two Freiherrs von Manteuffel contend in eloquence with the brilliant
rhetoricians of the liberals, such as Freiherr von Vincke, Camphausen,
Mevissen, Beckerath, and others.
Very few persons now exist who can read those speeches of the First
United Diet, once so celebrated, without a melancholy or satirical smile:
those were the blossom-days of liberal phraseology, causing an enthusiasm
of which we can not now form any adequate idea.
They acted with such an influence upon Bismarck, but he was soon sobered,
when he attained the conviction that these great speakers, moved by their
construction of the patent of February, advocated an end not contemplated
by the spirit of the patent. To him it did not seem honest to contend for
modern constitutionalism upon the judicial merits of the February patent,
against its sense and spirit.
An inimical inspiration acted on him in liberal phraseology, and the more
magnificent the oratory, the more repugnant it became to him, especially
where he saw untruth clearly in view. He employed some time in making
it evident to himself that the liberal idea was the very fact under the
government of which men, otherwise of great honor, in the very best
of faith, brought forward matters in themselves quite false; and the
deepest want of confidence then made itself master of his mind. He began
to understand how dangerous a power so intangible might become to the
sovereignty.
At the sitting of the Three Estates on the 17th May, the Deputy von
Saucken made one of those wordy enthusiastic speeches at that time so
popular, and declared that the Prussian people had risen in the year 1813
for the sole end of obtaining a constitution. This had previously been
asserted by Beckerath and others on several occasions.
After the liberal speaker had descended amidst the plaudits of the
Assembly, the Deputy Bismarck, for the first time, appeared upon the
tribune. His stature was great, his plentiful hair was cut short, his
healthily ruddy countenance was fringed by a strong blond beard, his
shining eyes were somewhat prominent, _à fleur de tête_, as the French
idiom has it—such was his aspect. He gazed upon the assembly for a
moment, and then spoke simply, but with some hesitation, in a strong,
sometimes shrill voice, with not altogether pleasing emphasis:—“For me it
is difficult—after a speech replete with such noble enthusiasm—to address
you, in order to bring before you a plain re-statement.” He then glanced
at some length at the real merits of a previous vote, and continued in
the following words:—
“To discuss the remaining points of the speech, I prefer to choose a time
when it will be necessary to enter upon questions of policy; at present
I am compelled to contradict what is stated from this tribune, as well
as what is so loudly and so frequently asserted outside this hall, in
reference to the necessity for a constitution, as if the movements of our
nation in 1813 should be ascribed to other causes and motives than those
of the tyranny exercised by the foreigner in our land.”
Here the speaker was assailed with such loud marks of disapprobation,
hisses, and outcries, that he could no longer make himself
intelligible. He quietly drew a newspaper from his pocket—it was the
“Spenersche Zeitung”—and read it, leaning in an easy attitude, until
the President-Marshal had restored order; he then concluded, still
interrupted by hisses, with these words:—“In my opinion it is doing
sorry service to the national honor, to conclude that ill-treatment and
humiliation suffered by Prussia at the hands of a foreign ruler would not
be enough to rouse Prussian blood, and cause all other feelings to be
absorbed by the hatred of foreigners.”
Amidst great commotion Bismarck left the tribune, ten or twelve voices
being clamorous to be heard.
[Illustration: Bismarck in 1847-1848.]
It is not intelligible to us at the present day, how the casual
statement of a simple opinion, which, even had it been untrue, need have
offended no one, could raise such a storm. Nor had Bismarck personally
offended any one, but he had protested against liberalism, and at once
the Mamelukes of this most evil despot pounced upon him—upon this
unfortunate member of the chivalry of the province of Saxony. The elder
gentlemen were especially offended, who had voluntarily taken the field
in 1813, and had now attributed the motive they thought then actuated
them, and perhaps they really entertained, to the nation. It was curious,
too, that they flatly denied the right of criticism to this member, on
the ground that he was not in existence in those great days. When, with
loud clamor, these gentlemen had given vent to their moral indignation,
Bismarck again ascended the tribune; but the anger of the liberals was
so great that the Marshal had to use all his authority to protect him
during his speech.
Bismarck now spoke fluently, in the manner since so familiar to us, but
coldly and sarcastically: “I can certainly not deny that I did not as yet
exist in those days, and I am truly sorry not to have been permitted to
take part in that movement; my regret for this is certainly diminished
by the explanations I have received just now upon the movements of that
epoch. I always thought the servitude against which the sword was then
used was a foreign servitude; I now learn that it lay at home. For this
correction I am not by any means grateful!”
The hisses of the liberals were now met by many voices with “Hear, hear!”
From this moment the hatred of the press was concentrated upon Bismarck;
being without exception in the hands of the liberals, it governed public
opinion entirely, and it assailed Bismarck even more unscrupulously and
unconscientiously than it had attacked Von Thadden and Von Manteuffel.
As contradiction was impossible, the world probably thought Bismarck
was still one of the wild Junkers who, armed to the teeth in steel,
considered village tyranny and dissoluteness to be the best kind of
constitution, and in deep political ignorance was still standing at about
the mental mark of Dietrich von Quitzow,[36] or at the most of one of the
Junkers of the time of Frederick I. The liberal press certainly succeeded
in producing a caricature of Bismarck, composed of a kind of a black bogy
and a ridiculous bugbear; the latter they were speedily obliged to drop,
but the bogy they have the more firmly retained, and frightened political
babies with it until very recent days.
No one has any idea at the present time how the liberal press of those
days assailed men who were obnoxious to them. In the year 1849, two
gentlemen were introduced to each other in society; as ordinarily
happens, they mistook their several names on a hurried introduction.
The elder gentleman spoke in an intellectual, remarkable, exhaustive,
and instructive manner concerning the affairs of Hungary, whence he
had recently returned, and showed himself to be a person of thought,
information, and politeness. His interlocutor for a long time could
not believe that this was Herr von Thadden-Triglaff; the ridiculous
caricature the liberal press had sent broadcast into society of this
eminent and singular man was so firmly fixed in his convictions.
We have laid some emphasis on this point, as it forms an explanation of
the obstinate suspicion with which, for many after years, Bismarck was
regarded by a section of the public. It is also plainly evident that the
young politician often defended himself against this “world of scorn”
with equal and biting scorn, and covered himself with the shield of
contempt against mockery he did not deserve. He was continually assailed,
sometimes in the rudest manner, and sometimes with poisonous acumen; and
he could not have been Bismarck had he borne it with patience.
Thus it befell that he soon found himself in full battle array against
liberalism, and his speeches at the time show that he took a serious
view of the matter. He gave utterance to his convictions and opinions
in conformity with his natural fearless nature; he adhered closely to
the matter at issue, but the form in which he did so was that of the
most cutting attack, whetted in general by a cloud of contempt for his
opponent, or of bitter ridicule.
In the debate of the Three Estates of the 1st of June, 1847, known as the
Periodicity Debate, Bismarck spoke as follows:
“I will not take the trouble to examine the solidity of the various
grounds of right, on which each of us presumes himself to stand; but,
I believe, it has become certain, from the debate and from every
thing which I have gathered from the discussion of the question, that
a different construction and interpretation of the older estates
legislation was possible and practically existent—not among laymen only,
but also among weighty jurists—and that it would be very doubtful what
a court of justice, if such a question were before it, would decree
concerning it. Under such circumstances, the declaration would, according
to general principles of law, afford a solution. This declaration has
become implicit upon us, implicit by the patent of the 3d of February
of this year; by this the King has declared that the general promises
of former laws have been no other than those fulfilled by the present
law. It appears that this declaration has been regarded by a portion
of this Assembly as inaccurate, but such is a fate to which every
declaration is equally subject. Every declaration is considered by
those whose opinions it does not confirm, to be wrong, or the previous
conviction could not have been sincere. The question really is, in whom
the right resides to issue an authentic and legally binding declaration.
In my opinion, the King alone; and this conviction, I believe, lies in
the conscience of the people. For when yesterday an Honorable Deputy
from Königsberg asserted that there was a dull dissatisfaction among
the people on the proclamation of the patent of the 3d of February, I
must reply, on the contrary, that I do not find the majority of the
Prussian nation represented in the meetings which take place in the
Böttchershöfchen. (Murmurs.) In inarticulate sounds I really can not
discover any refutation of what I have said, nor do I find it in the
goose-quills of the newspaper correspondents; no! not even in a fraction
of the population of some of the large provincial towns. It is difficult
to ascertain public opinion; I think I find it in some of the middle
provinces, and it is the old Prussian conviction that a royal word is
worth more than all the constructions and quirks applied to the letter
of the law. (Some voices: Bravo!) Yesterday a parallel was drawn between
the method employed by the English people in 1688, after the abdication
of James II., for the preservation of its rights, and that by which
the Prussian nation should now attain a similar end. There is always
something suspicious in parallels with foreign countries. Russia had
been held up to us as a model of religious toleration; the French and
Danish exchequers have been recommended as examples of proper finances.
To return to the year 1688 in England, I must really beg this august
assembly, and especially an honorable deputy from Silesia, to pardon me
if I again speak of a circumstance which I did not personally perceive.
The English people was then in a different position to that of the
Prussian people now; a century of revolution and civil war had invested
it with the right to dispose of a crown, and bind up with it conditions
accepted by William of Orange. On the other hand, the Prussian sovereigns
were in possession of a crown, not by grace of the people, but by God’s
grace; an actually unconditional crown, some of the rights of which
they voluntarily conceded to the people—an example rare in history. I
will leave the question of right, and proceed to that concerning the
utility and desirability of asking or suggesting any change in the
legislation as it actually now exists. I adhere to the conviction, which
I assume to be that of the majority of the Assembly, that periodicity is
necessary to a real vitality of this Assembly; but it is another matter
whether we should seek this by way of petition. Since the emanation
of the patent of the 3d of February, I do not believe that it would
be consonant with the royal pleasure, or that it is inherent with the
position of ourselves as estates, to approach His Majesty already with a
petition for an amendment of it. At any rate let us allow the grass of
this summer to grow over it. The King has repeatedly said, that he did
not wish to be coerced and driven; but I ask the Assembly what should
we be doing otherwise than coercing and driving him, if we already
approached the throne with requests for changes in the legislation?
To the gravity of this view I ask permission of the Assembly to add
another reason. It is certainly well known how many sad predictions have
been made by the opponents of our polity connected with the fact that
the Government would find itself forced by the estates into a position
which it would not have willingly taken up. But although I do not assume
the Government would allow itself to be coerced, I still think that it
is in the interests of the Government to avoid the slightest trace of
unwillingness as to concessions, and that it is in all our interests not
to concede to the enemies of Prussia the delight of witnessing the fact
that, by a petition—a vote—presented by us as the representatives of
sixteen millions of subjects, we should throw a shade of unwillingness
upon such a concession. It has been said that His Majesty the King and
the Commissioner of the Diet have themselves pointed out this path. For
_myself_, I could not otherwise understand this than that, as the King
has done, so also the Commissioner of the Diet indicated this as the
legal way we should pursue in case we found ourselves aggrieved; but that
it would be acceptable to His Majesty the King and the Government that
we should make use of this right, I have not been able to perceive. If,
however, we did so, it would be believed that urgent grounds existed for
it—that there was immediate danger in the future; but of this I can not
convince myself. The next session of the Assembly is assured; the Crown,
also, is thereby in the advantageous position, that within four years, or
even a shorter period, it can with perfect voluntariness, and without
asking, take the initiative as to that which is now desired. Now, I ask,
is not the edifice of our State firmer towards foreign countries?—will
not the feeling of satisfaction be greater at home, if the continuation
of our national polity be inaugurated by the initiative of the Crown,
than by petition from ourselves? Should the Crown not find it good to
take the initiative, no time is lost. The third Diet will not follow so
rapidly upon the second, that the King would have no time to reply to a
petition presented under such circumstances by the second. Yesterday a
deputy from Prussia—I think from the circle of Neustadt—uttered a speech
which I could only comprehend as meaning that it was our interest to pull
up the flower of confidence as a weed preventing us from seeing the bare
ground, and cast it out. I say with pride that I can not agree with such
an opinion. If I look back for ten years, and compare that which was
written and said in the year 1837 with that which is proclaimed from the
steps of the throne to the whole nation, I believe we have great reason
to have confidence in the intentions of His Majesty. In this confidence
I beg to recommend this august assembly to adopt the amendment of the
Honorable Deputy from Westphalia—not that of the Honorable Deputy from
the county of Mark—but that of Herr von Lilien.”
This speech is certainly a Prussian-Royalist confession of faith as
opposed to the constitutional doctrine, and was so accepted at times
with cheers, at other times with murmurs, and, finally with a flood of
personal opposition.
The political side of Bismarck’s attitude is clear enough from this
speech. We will signalize another aspect of it by the following passages
from a speech delivered by Bismarck on the occasion of that debate known
as the Jews’ Debate, on the 15th of June.
“On ascending this place to-day, it is with greater hesitation than
usual, as I am sensible that by what I am about to utter, some few
remarks of the speakers of yesterday, of no very flattering tone, will
have in a certain sense to be reviewed. I must openly confess that I am
attached to a certain tendency, yesterday characterized by the Honorable
Deputy from Crefeld as dark and mediæval; this tendency which again
dares to oppose the freer development of Christianity in the way the
Deputy from Crefeld regards as the only true one. Nor can I further
deny that I belong to that great mass, which, as was remarked by the
Honorable Deputy from Posen, stands in opposition to the more intelligent
portion of the nation, and, if my memory do not betray me, was held in
considerable scorn by that intelligent section—the great mass that still
clings to the convictions imbibed at the breast,—the great mass to which
a Christianity superior to the State is too elevated. If I find myself
in the line of fire of such sharp sarcasms without a murmur, I believe
I may throw myself upon the indulgence of the Honorable Assembly, if I
confess, with the same frankness which distinguished my opponents, that
yesterday, at times of inattention, it did not quite appear certain
to me whether I was in an assembly for which the law had provided, in
reference to its election, the condition of communion with some one of
the Christian churches. I will pass at once to the question itself. Most
of the speakers have spoken less upon the bill than upon emancipation
in general. I will follow their example. I am no enemy to the Jews, and
if they are enemies to me, I forgive them. Under certain circumstances
I even love them. I would grant them every right, save that of holding
superior official posts in Christian countries.
“We have heard from the Minister of Finance, and from other gentlemen on
the ministerial bench, sentiments as to the definition of a Christian
State, to which I almost entirely subscribe; but, on the other hand,
we were yesterday told that Christian supremacy is an idle fiction, an
invention of recent State philosophers. I am of opinion that the idea of
Christian supremacy is as ancient as the _ci-devant_ Holy Roman Empire—as
ancient as the great family of European States; that it is, in fact, the
very soil in which these states have taken root, and that every state
which wishes to have its existence enduring, if it desires to point to
any justification for that existence, when called in question, must be
constituted on a religious basis. For me, the words ‘by the grace of God’
affixed by Christian rulers to their names form no empty sound; but I see
in the phrase the acknowledgment that princes desire to sway the sceptres
intrusted to them by the Almighty according to God’s will on earth. I,
however, can only recognize as the will of God that which is contained
in the Christian Gospels, and I believe I am within my right when I
call such a State Christian, whose problem is to realize and verify the
doctrine of Christianity. That our State does not in all ways succeed in
this, the Honorable Deputy from the county of Mark yesterday demonstrated
in a parallel he drew between the truths of the Gospel and the paragraphs
of national jurisprudence, in a way rather clever than consonant with
my religious feelings. But although the solution of the problem is not
always successful, I am still convinced that the aim of the State is the
realization of Christian doctrine; however, I do _not_ think we shall
approach this aim more closely with the aid of the Jews. If the religious
basis of the State be acknowledged, I am sure that among ourselves the
basis can only be that of Christianity. If we withdraw from the State
this religious basis, our State becomes nothing more than a fortuitous
aggregation of rights, a sort of bulwark against the universal war of
each against all, such as an elder philosophy instituted. Its legislation
then would no longer recreate itself from the original fountain of
eternal truth, but only from the vague and mutable ideas of humanity
taking shape only from the conceptions formed in the brains of those who
occupy the apex. How such states could deny the right of the practical
application of such ideas—as, for instance, those of the communists
on the immorality of property, the high moral value of theft, as an
experiment for the rehabilitation of the native rights of man—is not
clear to me; for these very ideas are entertained by their advocates as
humane, and, indeed, as constituting the very flower of humanitarianism.
Therefore, gentlemen, let us not diminish the Christianity of the
people by showing that it is superfluous to the legislature; let us not
deprive the people of the belief that our legislation is derived from
the fountain of Christianity, and that the State seeks to promote the
realization of Christianity, though that end may not always be attained.
...
“Besides this, several speakers, as in almost every question, have
referred to the examples of England and France as models worthy of
imitation. This question is of much less consequence there, because the
Jews are so much less numerous than here. But I would recommend to the
gentlemen who are so fond of seeking their ideas beyond the Vosges, a
guide-line distinguishing the English and the French. That consists
in the proud feeling of national honor, which does not so easily and
commonly seek for models worthy of imitation and wonderful patterns, as
we do here, in foreign lands.”
It will be understood that this speech was much criticised; but it
became a regular armory for his opponents; it was taken for granted that
Bismarck himself had stated that he stood in “the dark ages,” that he had
“imbibed reactionary ideas with his mother’s milk,” and other similar
things, although he was only ridiculing the ideas of his opponents; there
was seldom an opportunity lost, when he was twitted with “the dark ages”
and the “prejudices imbibed at the breast.” Bismarck possessed humor
enough to laugh at this pitiful trick, and once exclaimed very well:
“Deputy Krause rode in the lists against me on a horse, in front the dark
ages, behind mother’s milk!” What a picture Herr Krause, the Burgomaster
of Elbing (if we are not misinformed), would make upon such a fabulous
steed!
Bismarck left the United Diet with a thorn in his breast. He had lost
many of the youthful illusions he had carried thither; the Prussia he
found in the White Saloon was as remote as heaven from the Prussia he had
hitherto believed in, and his patriotic heart was sorrowful. He perceived
that the sovereignty of Prussia was about to encounter severe contests;
that his duty lay with the monarch’s idea, and that his native land must
be rescued from the insolent pretensions of the modern parliamentary
spirit, from the most dangerous of all paper governments. In short,
he arrived with hazy, but somewhat liberal, views, and he returned a
politician thoroughly acquainted with his duty and his work, which
consisted in aiding the King to restore the Estates’ Monarchy. It was a
gift, but he received it with a sigh. His youth was at an end.
Bismarck has ever remained true to his patriotic duties, everywhere in
earnestness, and at no time has he withdrawn his hand from the plough; he
went bravely on, when so many cast their weapons away and fled.
CHAPTER III.
THE DAYS OF MARCH.
[1848.]
Rest at Home.—Contemplation.—The Revolution in Paris,
February, 1848.—Progress of the Revolutionary Spirit.—The
March Days of Berlin.—The Citizen Guard.—Opening of the
Second Session of the United Diet, 2d April, 1848.—Prince
Solms-Hohen-Solms-Lich.—Fr. Foerster.—“Eagle’s Wings and
Bodelswings.”—Prince Felix Lichnowsky.—The Debate on the
Address.—Speech of Bismarck.—Revolution at the Portal of the
White Saloon.—_Vaticinium Lehninense._—The Kreuzzeitung Letter
of Bismarck on Organization of Labor.—Bismarck at Stolpe on the
Baltic.—The Winter of Discontent.—Manteuffel.
In a previous section we have already recorded that, shortly after the
close of the First United Diet, on the 28th of July, 1847, Herr Otto von
Bismarck celebrated his wedding at Reinfeld, in Pomerania, with Fräulein
Johanna von Putkammer, and then entered upon a journey with his youthful
wife by way of Dresden, Prague, Vienna, and Salzburg, to Italy, meeting
his sovereign, Frederick William IV., at Venice, and finally, returning
through Switzerland and the Rhine-Province, fixed his residence at the
ancient hearth of his ancestors at Schönhausen.
It was a short but happy time of rest, passed in rural retirement. The
ancient family traits of the Bismarcks, after a silent activity in
field and forest, became more strongly marked in him than in many other
branches of his race, and his wife also retained a charming reminiscence
of these peaceful days in Schönhausen. She still preserves grateful
recollections of that happy time. The outward honors, the universal fame
of her illustrious husband, have brought no accession of domestic joy;
she loves the time in which she was only Frau von Bismarck, without the
Excellency.
[Illustration: COUNTESS VON BISMARCK-SCHÖNHAUSEN.]
It is not necessary to say that Bismarck, in the happiness of his
youthful marriage, had not forgotten his native land; that he still
pursued the course of political events with keen appreciation, and could
not omit to join in its most serious eventualities. Whether he sat in
his library amidst his books and maps, roved as a solitary sportsman
through his preserves in field or wood, turned to agricultural pursuits
with the eye of a proprietor, or visited his neighbors in Jerichow or
Kattenwinkel, he felt an intuitive perception of some great and decisive
event about to come. Men so politically eminent as Bismarck even then
was—although he had not, as yet, evinced it in public—bear within them a
certain foreshadowing of coming events not to be under-estimated.
[Illustration]
When the first news arrived of the revolution of February in Paris,
Bismarck knew for a fact that the signal for a struggle with the Prussian
Monarchy had there been given; he perceived that the wave of revolution
would pass over the Rhine, and dash against the throne of his sovereign.
He determined upon manly resistance, and his virile courage was not
broken when the terrible truth more than fulfilled his anticipations;
when the waves of revolution shot with lightning speed through all
Germany; when a want of presence of mind and irresolute counsels, and at
times crass cowardice, rather than ill-will or treason, in almost every
direction, lamed or broke down the power of resistance.
He saw, sinking and destroyed, bulwarks and dykes he had held to be
unassailable; his heart palpitated with patriotic ardor and manly sorrow,
but he lost neither courage nor clear insight, like a true dykesman.
It had hitherto been his office to protect the Elbe dykes against the
floods, and in a similar character it was his duty to act against the
floods of revolution. Nor has the valiant man unfaithfully acquitted
himself of his severe duty.
[Illustration]
The March-days of Berlin pressed hard upon the heart of the sturdy
March-squire, and there ensued a long series of days of grief; for
he felt as a personal insult every thing spoken, written, or enacted
against his royal master. He passed as in a feverish dream through the
streets of the capital of his King, filled with threatening forms.[37]
He saw flags displayed and colors fluttering unknown to him; Polish
standards, tricolors of black, red, and gold, but nowhere the ancient
honored flag of Prussia. Even on the palace of his deceased lord and
king the three colors flaunted, ever the battle-standard of the enemies
of Prussia, never those of the ancient German realm. In place of the
proud regiments of Guards, he only beheld citizen-soldiers watching in
a half-ludicrous, half-dispirited manner. Men had ceased to speak; all
the world speechified and declaimed; vain folly and ignominious treason
grasped each other with dirty hands in an alliance against royalty, and
those who ought to have been defending the crown, and indeed desired to
do so, found themselves caught in the spider-webs of liberal doctrines:
trammelled themselves in the sere bonds of political theories, scornfully
rent asunder by the rude hands of revolution.
It was sufficient to bring the burning tear to Bismarck’s eye, and his
soul struggled in unspeakable torment; but he manfully wrestled insult
and vexation down. With a pale but impassible countenance he took his
place, on the 2d of April, 1848, in the first session of the Second
United Diet.
The White Saloon still existed, but the bright days were gone in which
Vincke had sought to polish diamonds with diamond-dust; true, the same
men were present, but it was a vastly different assembly. In those former
days, certain of victory and intoxicated with power, this assembly now
meditated suicide; it could scarcely be quick enough in transferring its
legislative functions to the new creation, the first-born of revolution,
standing impatiently watching at the door.
The President was still the Marshal of the Guild of Nobles, the Serene
Prince of Solms-Hohen-Solms-Lich; but the Royal Commissioner was no
longer the Freiherr von Bodelschwingh-Velmede; his place was occupied by
the new Minister of State, Ludolf Camphausen—one of the chiefs of the
Rhine-land liberal party.
Some weeks before, a liberal, F. Foerster, at the volunteer anniversary,
had saluted the Minister von Bodelschwingh with the compliment that
time did not fly with _Eagle’s wings_, but _Bodelswings_; but this very
Bodelschwingh, the most faithful subject of the King, was now despised by
the revolutionary party as an obscure reactionary. There was reason for
laughter, had not the crisis been so terribly grave.
Camphausen read the well-known Royal Decree of proposition, after
betraying, in his introductory oration, that liberalism no longer
felt itself entirely secure; in fact these liberal ministers, such as
Hansemann, Auerswald, Schwerin, and Bornemann, were not the men able to
steer the royal vessel with safety during this severe westerly storm.
Prince Felix Lichnowsky moved the replicatory address. The Marshal
declared the proposition to be carried unanimously, as he perceived the
majority to be of his opinion.
“It is not unanimous. I protest against it!” exclaimed Herr von
Thadden-Triglaff.
“Carried by an almost unanimous majority!” proclaimed the Marshal.
The next proceeding was to frame the address at once, and to accept the
plenum at the same session. Most unseemly and discreditable haste!
Upon this the Deputy von Bismarck-Schönhausen rose and said:—
“It is my opinion that we owe to the dignity, ever upheld in this
Assembly, due discretion in the conduct of all its deliberations; that we
owe it to all the simplest rules of expediency—especially on an occasion
when we meet for the last time—by no means to deviate from our fixed
customs. Heretofore every law, however simple, has been referred to a
committee, which has considered it with deliberation, and submitted it
on the following day to the Chamber. I believe at so serious a moment as
this, that on the expression of the sentiments of this Assembly, still
having the honor to represent the Prussian people, it is a sufficiently
important procedure not to admit of such a hasty consideration of the
address—so far removed from the rules of expediency according to my
individual feelings.”
Bismarck spoke with more than usual hesitation; his features appeared
sharper than usual to his friends, his countenance was pale, his white
teeth were more visible and prominent, his manner was stolid; he
presented the appearance of a man combating a critical hour.
Yes—to him it was indeed a critical hour. He was unable to arrest the
progress of events, but he was determined to do his duty. The tumult of
the streets might rage, the whirlpool of thronging events might carry
away with them men usually of the utmost courage; but Bismarck was not to
be carried away as well. He was unable to stem the rapidity with which
the address was draughted, considered, and accepted. Milde and company
pressed forward, and the Second United Diet could not be in sufficient
hurry to transfer its functions to the convention to be assembled for the
consolidation of the constitution.
It is impossible to pursue the progress of this session without pain; it
passed over the ruins and fragments of all the royal hopes which but a
few months before had existed in all their pride and glory, and appeared
so instinct with happiness and founded on such secure grounds.
In this debate on the address it would have been impossible for Bismarck
to speak, had not his political opponents, Von Saucken-Tarputschen and
Milde, with much difficulty obtained a hearing for him; so madly was the
Assembly determined upon self-destruction.
Revolution was knocking at the portals of the White Saloon.
Bismarck, however, said:—“I am one of the few who would vote against
the address, and I have only requested permission to speak, in order
to explain this disapproval, and to declare to you that I accept the
address, in the sense of a programme of the future, at once; but for
the sole reason that I am powerless to do otherwise. (Laughter.) Not
voluntarily, but by stress of circumstances; for I have not changed
my opinions during these six months; I would rather believe that this
ministry is the only one able to conduct us from our actual position into
an orderly and constitutional condition, and for that reason I shall give
it my inconsiderable support in every case within my power. But the cause
of my voting against the address consists in the expressions of joy and
gratitude made use of for the events of recent days; the past is buried,
and I mourn it with greater pain than many among you, because no human
power can reawaken it—when the Crown itself has scattered ashes upon the
coffin. But if I accept this from the force of circumstances, I can not
retire from my functions in this Diet with the lie in my mouth that I
shall give thanks and rejoice at what I must in any sense hold to be an
erroneous path. If it be indeed possible to attain to a united German
Fatherland by the new path now pursued, to arrive at a happy or even
legally well-ordered condition of things, the moment will have come when
I can tender my thanks to the originator of the new state of things; but
at present this is beyond my power.”
This was the earnest language of a true statesman, and it was not without
its impression even then. When Bismarck ended, no one dared to laugh. He
accepted the situation because he had no other course open to him; but
he could not return thanks for that which appeared likely to militate
against his reverence for his King. He knew that the past was beyond
recall, now that the Crown had itself cast ashes upon its coffin—nor,
indeed, was it at all within the thoughts of Bismarck ever to reawaken
the past. He could mourn over the past, and this with considerable
affliction; but he began to arm himself for the future; that future he
resolved to conquer for the monarchy.
Such were the events of the 2d of April, 1848.
The immediate necessity was to strive against revolution, which continued
to advance with bloody feet and shameless countenance. First, conferences
were held with friends and allies of equal rank and similar opinions;
arrangements were made in all directions. He exhibited a restless
activity, at first apparently without any hope, and which seemed to
lead to no results for weeks, though it were destined in the end to
bear fruit. Such was the policy pursued by the faithful royalist in
the terrible spring and summer of 1848, passed by him alternately at
Schönhausen, Berlin, Potsdam, Reinfeld, and (on the occasion of the
presence of the Prince of Prussia) at Stettin.
Bismarck was one of those who labored most assiduously and successfully
towards the erection of a barrier against revolution even at the twelfth
hour. A royal or conservative party could not be conjured up out of the
earth, but the elements for such a party, existing in great multitude,
were assembled in clubs, united by ties, gradually organized, and finally
disciplined.
Nor did Bismarck ever falter in courage, for he trusted in the Divine
mercy and the kingdom of Prussia, but not in the well-known prophecy
of Lehnin, as the liberal historian, Adolf Schmidt, asserted,[38] no
matter whether the librarian La Croze in 1697 really saw a copy of this
document in the hands of a Von Schönhausen at Berlin or no. The Herr von
Schönhausen in question could scarcely have been a Bismarck, as Professor
Schmidt would seem to infer, and our Bismarck was, in any case,
sufficiently informed to know for what purpose the so-called _Vaticinium
Lehninense_ had been forged, and possessed other sources whence to draw
confidence and trust. The revolution had to be combated by clubs and by
the press—both so dangerous to the monarchy. No one was more active in
the organization of these than Bismarck; he entered with confidence on
the ground whither events had driven him. Thus arose the Prussian clubs,
the patriotic societies, and many others, and at last the club which
bore as its motto, “Mit Gott für König und Vaterland”—(With God for
King and Country). The _New Prussian Gazette_, with Bismarck’s aid, was
founded, as well as many smaller periodicals. There was also the _New
Prussian Sunday News_, which, sent in thousands to the smaller towns and
provinces, became a powerful weapon.
Bismarck at the same time kept a vigilant eye upon the “Vereinbarungs”
Society in Berlin, and the Parliament at Frankfurt, but he never joined
the meetings in the Church of St. Paul, nor the Academy of Music, nor
those in the Concert Room of the Royal Theatre in Berlin. We do not know
whether it would then have been possible for him to have succeeded in
getting elected for Berlin or Frankfurt; at any rate, he never thought
of doing so, for he was firmly convinced that nothing stable would be
created in either place.
We will here give a highly characteristic example of the manner in which
Bismarck so powerfully and openly attacked the malicious and silly
aspersions upon the Junkers, then the order of the day, showing with
what acuteness and ability he could encounter the hollow declamations of
unconscientious sophists. At the end of August he published the following
address, in the form then greatly in vogue, of a _communiqué_:—
“The Deputy for the Belgard Circle, Herr Jänsch, asserted in
the debate of the 16th instant that the Pomeranian laborers
only obtained from 2½ to 4 silber groschen per day, and in
addition to this had to give 190 days’ labor for nothing. If
so, the 52 Sundays being subtracted, the earnings of a laborer
in the other 123 days, calculated at an average of 3½ sgr.,
would represent 13 thlr. 9 sgr. 9 pf.[39] That no man can live
upon that every one must see—even Herr Jänsch, if he takes the
trouble to think further about it. I should therefore have
characterized the statement of this gentleman as a deliberate
lie in his official capacity as a national representative, had
not the demand for a uniform wage of 6 sgr. proved that Herr
Jänsch has either not been able, or not had leisure, to make
himself acquainted with the condition of the most numerous
class of the electors he represents. For with a wage of 6 sgr.
the Pomeranian laborer would be worse off than he is now. The
laborers on the estate of Kniephof, Circle Stargard, for the
last eight years, during my residence at that place, were
living under the following conditions, which are the same, with
very slight differences, common to the whole district—indeed,
I could prove that in other places, such as Zimmerhausen and
Trieglaff, they are even better off. The daily wage certainly
is, in summer, 4 sgr. per man, 3 sgr. per woman, and in winter
1 sgr. less in each case; and they have to give 156 man’s days’
work and 26 woman’s days’ work in the year without pay. But
each working family received from the proprietor the following
advantages free:—
“1. House, consisting of parlor, bedroom, kitchen, cellar,
and loft, stabling for their cattle of every kind, and the
necessary barn accommodation, which is all maintained by the
proprietor.
“2. Three morgen (acres) plough-land, one for winter corn, one
for summer, one for potatoes, for which the laborer finds the
seed, but the estate furnishes the appointments, inclusive of
manure; add to this one-half morgen (acre) of garden ground,
near the house, and one-half morgen (acre) for flax; the whole
profit of this superficies belongs to the laborer.
“3. Pasture for two cows, six sheep, and two geese with their
broods; hay for one cow during the winter.
“4. Firing, consisting of turf, and the right of gathering wood
through three morgen of forest.
“5. Corn from the proprietor’s land, five scheffel (sacks) rye,
one of barley.
“6. On an average each laborer gets fifteen scheffel (sacks)
corn of each kind for threshing.
“7. Medical attendance and medicines free.
“8. If the husband dies the widow receives, until her children
are grown up, dwelling-room, one morgen of potatoes, one-half
morgen of garden, one-quarter morgen of flax, and one cow,
which feeds and pastures with the proprietor’s herd, without
any kind of return on her part.
“Every day-laborer—those who have not grown-up daughters—keeps
one servant-girl, with wages of, say 10 thalers (£1 10_s._) per
annum, who, on account of the laborer, performs services to the
proprietor, which the laborer’s wife never does, but takes care
of the children, and cooks.
“The pay in cash, which such a family, with servant, according
to the foregoing tariff, after deducting the produce, much
of which remains for sale, is ascertained, according to the
number of children able to assist in the work, to be about
34 to 50 thalers per annum.[40] A family without children
receives, after deducting the 190 non-paid days (including 60
days for threshing) and the 52 Sundays = 242 days (inclusive
of market-days and the like), annually, in cash-paid days for
man and maid—some of these days being semi-labor days, and so
justifying the apparent difference—52 days at 4 sgr., 178 days
at 3 sgr., and 150 days at 2 sgr., in all 34 thalers 22 sgr.
If this be added to the above-named produce, it will not be
astonishing that the Pomeranian laborers would not be disposed
to exchange their present condition for the poor 6 sgr. per day
which Herr Jänsch in his ignorance would obtain for them.[41] I
will not boast, but only state, as a matter of fact, that the
greater number of the proprietors have hitherto voluntarily
adopted the usual practice of supporting the inhabitants during
calamity, cattle murrain, and years of famine—many to a degree
of which the babbling philanthropists who declaim against the
Junkers have no idea whatever. In the past year of famine, in
which the Deputy Master Butcher Jänsch made a disturbance in
Belgard, which, if I mistake not, obtained some notice from
the Court of Justice, the large class of proprietors he has
attacked by erroneous or fictitious statements made great
sacrifices to give the inhabitants of their estates no reason
to increase the class of the dissatisfied, at the head of whom
Deputy Herr Jänsch now fights to attain tumultuary laurels. I
have added this personal remark in order to draw the attention
of Herr Jänsch to the rest of the article, and thus afford him
the opportunity of learning something of the condition of the
class he asserts himself to represent; a condition of which
he ought to have known, before he talked about them in the
National Assembly.
“Bismarck.
“Schönhausen, the 21st August, 1848.”
The then Deputy for Belgard has never attempted to obtain any advantage
by a reply!
Immediately after the days of March, Bismarck, impelled by his Prussian
heart, addressed a letter to His Majesty; not a political letter, full
of counsels and plans, but an outpouring of the feelings produced by the
moment. Throughout the whole of that summer this letter lay upon King
Frederick William’s writing-table, as a precious token of unchangeable
Prussian fidelity. During that summer, so fraught with weighty events,
Bismarck was often called to Sans-Souci, and the King took his advice in
many important affairs.
Stolpe, on the Baltic, was the residence of Bismarck for some weeks
of the summer. An incident of his life is furnished by a spectator.
After one of the concerts denominated “Navy Concerts”—for in those days
an opinion was entertained that a fleet could be built by means of
beer-drinking, concert-pence, and such similar “miserabilities” of good
intentions—Bismarck, drawing himself up to his full height, majestically
addressed one of the gentlemen who had been active in the concert,
greeting him as an acquaintance, and added: “You have taken pains to make
the work somewhat hotter for us!” It was one of the hottest days of the
year. An anxious smile played upon his lips, but bright daring spoke in
the firm contour of the bearded face. His hat alone bore the Prussian
colors. It was indeed refreshing to see such a man in those days.
And when the “winter of discontent” came for democracy, when the question
of saving the construction of a ministry was prominent, it was Bismarck
who took the initiative concerning the introduction of the elder Von
Manteuffel, his partisan at the United Diet, and thus drew the eyes of
the people upon the man who promptly restored order. He had discovered
the right man for the situation as it then existed.
CHAPTER IV.
CONSERVATIVE LEADERSHIP.
[1849-1851.]
The Second Chamber.—The Sword and the Throne.—Acceptance of
the Frankfurt Project.—The New Electoral Law.—Bismarck’s
Speeches.—The King and the Stag.—Birth of Herbert von
Bismarck.—“What does this Broken Glass Cost?”—The Kreuzzeitung
Letters.—The Prussian Nobility.—“I am Proud to be a Prussian
Junker!”—Close of the Session.
Immediately after the publication of the December constitution of
1848, Bismarck was, in the same month, elected in Brandenburg the
representative of West-Havelland, as a member of the Second Chamber.
[Illustration]
The Diet was opened on the 26th of February, 1849; and Bismarck was among
the first members to repair to the solemnity in the White Saloon. How
many reminiscences were associated in Bismarck’s mind with the White
Saloon! How many more were to arise! Memorials and landmarks still remain!
Without any special object, most probably, Bismarck took the same
seat in the Assembly he had formerly occupied as representative of the
Knight’s Estate of Jerichow, in the United Diet; and here he held, as it
were, as member for the electoral metropolis of Brandenburg, a sort of
court. It was at least something of a court, for not only was he received
by his former associates, such as Count Arnim-Boytzenburg, the minister
Von Manteuffel, and many others, but his opponents also addressed
him—those who had been his opponents, and were to become so again. Among
these were Auerswald, Vincke, and Grabow; at that time they all stood
with Bismarck on the right, in the terrible crisis of the country.
Bismarck received them with the perfect confidence of a great-hearted
gentleman, in that gracious manner of which he was so perfect a master,
but which he could, at any moment, for the sake of a joke, frankly and
freely abandon, without in the least imperilling his position. On that
day his face remained serious, despite the anecdote related by Freiherr
von Vincke, who recounted in a humorous way that on alighting from
his carriage he had been hissed at the palace gate by the Berlin mob,
while plaudits were made to Temmes and D’Esters. Bismarck did not allow
himself any illusions as to the difficulty of the position, although
the royalists were in ecstasies at the result of the elections. Parties
were at the time about equal in numbers, if those were counted to the
royalist side that had not formally sided with the democrats. It was a
very beggarly account, and yet this was to be regarded, after the events
of the spring, as a considerable gain—a gain greatly to be ascribed to
the endeavors of Bismarck and his immediate friends.
A conservative deputy from Pomerania, addressing the member for
West-Havelland, said: “We have conquered!”
“Not so!” replied Bismarck, coolly. “We have not conquered, but we have
made an attack, which is the principal thing. Victory is yet to come, but
it will come.”
These words accurately and truly convey the nature of the situation,
Bismarck being a master of short phrases in which situations are rendered
in a perfectly intelligible manner. Very frequently his expressions
appear as if a curtain had been suddenly withdrawn to allow brilliant
light to dissipate gloom. He is the very opposite to those diplomatists
who make use of language only to conceal their thoughts. His clear
perceptions are ever conveyed openly in definite language. Not only in
politics is this true, but in ordinary conversation. On one occasion
the relative positions of the Pomeranian Circles were under discussion.
Bismarck said, “The Principality of Cammin hangs like a pair of breeches
over Belgard!” Of course his geographical studies aided him to this, but
his expressions are equally applicable under all circumstances.
Two of the deputies, on the occasion of this solemnity, displayed the
cynicism of street democracy with childish vanity; one of them strutted
about in a green frock-coat, and the other attempted to draw attention to
himself by continually fanning himself with his gray hat. These were not,
however, the worst enemies of the Prussian monarchy in the White Saloon
on that day; under many a well-brushed black coat worse emotions were on
fire.
By accident the sabre of one of the officers of the Guards fell from its
scabbard on his suddenly turning; the naked weapon lay before the throne
of Prussia, a circumstance which could only be regarded by many, on both
sides, as portending that the sword alone could now save the throne.
At the sessions immediately succeeding the opening of the Second
Chamber, Bismarck now found himself placed in the position of defending
the constitution—although it did not fulfill his aspirations,
opinions, and convictions—against the attacks of democracy. He had
accepted constitutionalism, from necessity, and was bound to defend
the sovereignty upon this basis. This he did bravely and openly, but
in a spirit of self-consciousness and dignity, which often drove his
antagonists to despair, and frequently aroused a storm of disapprobation.
“No word,” he once exclaimed, “has been more wrongly used in the past
year than the word ‘people.’ Every body has held it to signify just what
suited his own view, usually as a crowd of individuals, whom it was
necessary to persuade.”
To throw this phrase into the face of democracy, meant far more in those
days than at the present time.
He declared against a fresh amnesty with manly vigor and deep insight;
he straightforwardly said the King, on the 18th March, 1848, had
pardoned rebels, but such an act ought not to be repeated, because it
would have the effect of spreading an opinion among the people that
the whole political rights of the State depended upon the will of the
population, as if any one who armed a certain number of individuals,
or assembled them in unarmed crowds, to overawe a weak government,
possessed the right to overturn any law obnoxious to him. “There is no
accommodation possible with this battle of principles, which has shaken
Europe to its foundations; these principles are founded on contradictory
grounds, opposed from the very commencement. One apparently seeks its
justification in the national will, but really in the brute force
of the barricades; the other is founded in a sovereignty granted by
Heaven, upon the supremacy of divine right, and endeavors to accomplish
its development by organically allying itself with constitutional
jurisprudence and law. One of these principles regards agitators of
every kind as heroic combatants for truth, freedom, and right; the
other classes them as rebels. These principles can not be decided by
parliamentary debates; ere long the Almighty, who is the arbiter of
battles, will throw the dice and so determine the controversy.”
The Second Chamber adopted the Frankfurt Imperial Constitution by a vote
of 179 against 159. Bismarck spoke energetically against it, because it
bore the broad impress of national sovereignty, this being evident, as
the Emperor retained nothing more than a right of a veto of suspension.
The Radicals, he said, would approach the new Emperor with the imperial
arms, and ask,—
“Think you that this eagle is given you merely as a present?”
“The Frankfurt crown,” he continued, “may be very brilliant, but the
gold, which lends truth to its splendor, must be added by melting into
its composition the Prussian crown; and I can not believe that this
recasting is possible by means of the proposed constitution.”
The course of the discussions in the Second Chamber gradually showed
an increase in the power of the democrats, and they would render a
monarchical government impossible. They insisted on the abolition of the
state of siege in Berlin, as this materially impeded their projects; and
when they had finally succeeded in effecting this, the Government could
do no otherwise than dissolve the Second Chamber and prorogue the First.
It seemed at one time that this dissolution would be the signal for
another insurrection, but the democratic mob was taken aback when the
Government showed the necessary severity. It was a terrible exaggeration
for a Paris newspaper to announce, “_Le canon gronde à Berlin_.” One
volley in the Dönhofsplatz, and then, “Arms—to the right,” and a cavalry
charge in the Leipziger-Strasse, were enough thoroughly to deprive the
democrats of all taste for another rising.
Bismarck was then residing at Wilhelms-Strasse, No. 71; in the summer he
went to Pomerania, and thence, in August, proceeded to Brandenburg for
the election, and finally to Berlin.
The new electoral law for the Second Chamber, and a decree summoning both
Chambers for the 7th of August, had already been published, on the 30th
of May. This new Chamber, which had grown clearer as to the position
of parties, was employed with the revision of the Customs Constitution
and with the German policy of Prussia—in fact, with the plans for union
proposed by Herr von Radowitz.
Bismarck, who now appeared more and more as one of the leaders of the
conservative party, declared against the projects of union and the triple
alliance, because it was founded at the cost of Prussia’s specific
interests, and, if successful, would, in the end ruin her. On the 6th of
September, 1849, Bismarck spoke as follows:—
“I am of opinion that the motive principles of the year 1848 were far
more social than national. National action would have confined itself to
a few, but prominent, persons, in more contracted circles, if the ground
had not been shaken under our feet, drawing in the social element, by
false representations as to the ambition of the proletariat to acquire
the property of others. The envy the poor had of the rich was excited
in proportion to the continued feeding of a spirit of license from high
quarters, which destroyed the moral elements of resistance in the minds
of men. I do not believe that these evils would be averted by democratic
concessions, or by projects of German unity; the seat of the disease
is deeper; but I deny that any desire has ever existed in the Prussian
people towards a national regeneration on the model of the theories of
Frankfurt. The policy of Frederick the Great has been frequently alluded
to; and it has even been identified with the proposition for union. I
rather am of opinion that Frederick II. would have turned to the most
prominent peculiarity of Prussian nationality, to her warlike element,
and not without a result. He would have known that to-day, as in the era
of our fathers, the sound of the trumpet which called to the standard
of the father of the country, has lost no charm for the Prussian ear,
whether the question concern the defense of the frontier or the fame
and greatness of Prussia. He would have had the alternative, after the
rupture with Frankfurt, to ally himself with our ancient ally, Austria,
and then assume the brilliant part enacted by the Emperor of Russia, in
alliance with Austria, to destroy the common enemy—Revolution; or he
would have been free, with the same justification he possessed for the
conquest of Silesia, after declining the Frankfurt imperial crown, to
decide what the nature of the German constitution should be, at the risk
of casting the sword into the balance. This would have been a national
Prussian policy! In this way Prussia, in union with Austria or alone,
would have been able to arrive at the proper position that would have
endowed Germany with the power it should possess in Europe. The plan of a
constitutional union, however, destroys the Prussian specific character.”
We must draw especial attention to the reply which Bismarck made to the
argument of Herr von Radowitz, that the Frankfurt Assembly had shielded
Prussia against some dangers.
“I am not in the least aware,” said Bismarck, “of such a thing. I
only know that the 38th Prussian Regiment, on the 18th of September,
1848, preserved us from that which the Frankfurt Parliament, with its
predecessor, had conjured up. The specific character of Prussia actually
accomplished this. This was the remains of the heretic Prussiadom which
had survived the Revolution; the Prussian army, the Prussian treasury,
the fruits of Prussian administration accumulated through many years,
and the animated reaction exerted by King and people on each other in
Prussia. It consisted in the attachment of the Prussian population to the
established dynasty; it consisted in the old Prussian virtues of honor,
fidelity, obedience, and bravery, which inspire every Prussian soldier
from the backbone—from the officers to the youngest recruit. The army has
no enthusiasm for the tricolor; in it, as in the rest of the people, will
be found no longing for national regeneration. The name of Prussia is
all-sufficient for it. These hosts follow the banner of black and white,
and not the tricolor: under the black and white they joyfully die for
their country. The tricolor has been, since the 18th March, recognized as
the attribute of their opponents. The accents of the Prussian National
Anthem, the strains of the Dessau and Hohenfriedberg March, are well
known and beloved among them: but I have never yet heard a Prussian
soldier sing, ‘What is the German fatherland?’ The nation whence this
army has sprung, and of which the army is the truest representative,
in the happy and accurate words of the President of the First Chamber,
Rudolf von Auerswald, does not need to see the Prussian monarchy melt
away in the filthy ferment of South German immorality. We are Prussians,
and Prussians we desire to remain. I know that in these words I utter
the creed of the Prussian army, the creed of the majority of my
fellow-countrymen, and I hope to God that we shall continue Prussians,
when this bit of paper is forgotten like the withered leaf of autumn!”
This love for the Prussian army, this enthusiasm for it, is a red
line which runs through the whole political life of Bismarck. In it
he recognizes the especial representative of the Prussian nation, the
pillar of the State; and this was quite in the style of Frederick; for
did not the great monarch say, “that the sky did not rest more firmly
on the shoulders of Atlas, than the Prussian State on the regiments of
the army.” The German policy of Herr von Radowitz had no more conscious
and energetic opponent than Herr von Bismarck, unless in the excellent
General von Rauch, the Royal Adjutant-General, a remarkable and highly
gifted statesman, who opposed him on every opportunity in his powerful
way, even in the royal presence. Radowitz, on one occasion, in his
emphatic style, conjured the King, like Cæsar, to cross the Rubicon.
General von Rauch replied, with a twang of the Berlin dialect, “I do not
know that fellow Cæsar, nor that fellow the Rubicon, but the man can not
be a true Prussian who counsels His Majesty thus!” Herr von Radowitz, it
is known, was not a born Prussian.
As to the revision of the constitution, Herr von Bismarck and his
associates strove actively to endow it with such a shape that it would be
possible for the King actually to govern with it. Much was accomplished,
but “Far from sufficient!” said Bismarck. Nor was it the fault of
Bismarck that much more was not done.
He was particularly zealous against the power of granting taxation by
the Diet. “The centre of gravity, the whole power of the State, departs
from the Crown to the Chambers, or their majorities, and nothing then
will remain to the Crown but the power of carrying out the votes of
the majority. It is true the Government can dissolve the Chambers, and
proceed to new elections, but the new Chambers might choose to pursue
the way of the old, and thus the conflict would become insoluble and
eternal; there is no way of avoiding this. This would be overturning
the Prussian State Prerogative, he perceived, the effects of which very
easily would be of a more enduring nature than those of the so-called
March Revolution!”
The orator of 1849 seemed to have a perception of the conflicts which the
Premier of 1862 would have to pass through: he then did not see how he
should emerge from such a state of things, but in 1866 he found the way
the _via triumphalis_.
Bismarck had been forced to accept constitutionalism, but he did not
unconditionally do so: it was at least to be a Prussian constitution, or
modelled on Prussian principles, not directly inimical to the Kingship.
Prussia, said he, must be distinguishable from other countries. The
downfall of German States kept tolerable pace with the concessions
made by their Governments to the people. A reference to England was
a mistake. “Give us every thing English that we do not possess; give
us English piety, and English respect for the law; give the entire
English constitution, but with this the entire relations of the English
landlords, English wealth, and English common-sense—then it will be
possible to govern in a similar manner. The Prussian Crown must not be
forced into the powerless position of the English Crown, which appears
more like an elegant ornament at the apex of the edifice of the State. In
ours I recognize the supporting pillar.”
England, he added, had given itself the leading principles of the
constitution of 1688, only after having been, for more than a century,
under the curatorship of an omnipotent aristocracy, consisting of a very
few families. Parliamentary Reform had now, it was true, broken the power
of the aristocracy, but it was yet to be seen whether it would endure
like the influence of the aristocracy. “We are deficient in the very
class which controls politics in England, the class of wealthy and thence
conservative gentlemen, independent of material interests, whose whole
education is directed to becoming statesmen.”
Bismarck’s words were no longer hesitating, as at the United Diet,
although there was always some slight impediment until his language began
to flow more readily. But, as now, we perceive in his speeches that he
had always to contend with the too rapidly advancing flood of thought. In
his outward appearance his aspect was the picture of manly perfection;
the tall, strong-boned frame was erect, but light and unconstrained;
his attitude was somewhat daring, but the blue-gray eye glanced forth
earnestly and sharply, when it was not animated with the light of sincere
friendship. It was not the contemplative eye of the thinker, but the
straightforward look of the man of action.
[Illustration]
In the last days of autumn, Bismarck was commanded to the royal
hunting-parties at Letzlingen, as he afterwards always continued to be,
if not too far away. Frederick William IV. treated him with especial
favor on this occasion; it was also with peculiar pleasure that he hunted
on the moors and among the forests, centuries before the proud heritage
of his race; a heritage his ancestors had surrendered only under the
influence of affection for their princes, and reverence for their liege
lord. These old Bismarckian preserves are the richest in Prussia:
the red deer and bucks are counted by thousands, and the royal hunts,
which take place every winter since the restoration of the mansion of
Letzlingen by Frederick William IV., at the beginning of his reign, are
among the best in Europe. Frederick William IV., although familiar with
the chase, was not at all times a keen sportsman. Once he leaned his
gun against a tree, drew a volume of Shakspeare from his pocket, seated
himself on a stump, and was so absorbed in the poetry, that he never
noticed that an inquisitive stag, who wished to know what the King was
reading, crept up behind him and looked into the book over his shoulder.
This pretty scene was witnessed by several sportsmen, and among these
Bismarck, from a distance.
In this winter of 1849-50 Bismarck established his family in Berlin,
although he retained his seat at Schönhausen; his household lived on
the first floor on Dorotheen-Strasse, No. 37; here his second child and
eldest son Herbert was born.
He was christened on the 13th February, 1850, by the well-known and
so highly esteemed preacher, Gossner. In the spring of 1868 the
heirs of Gossner, with other manuscripts, presented the letter of
Bismarck, in which he asked Gossner to christen his son, to a bazar for
missionary purposes. A cousin of the Minister-President—General Count
Bismarck-Bohlen, the Commandant of Berlin—purchased the letter, and
presented it to Count Herbert. This letter is as follows:—
Berlin, 11th February, 1850.
REVEREND SIR,—Although I have not the honor to be personally
known to you, I venture to hope, as we have friends in common,
that you will not refuse to baptize my first-born son; and
I beg respectfully to ask whether it will be agreeable to
your engagements to perform this holy office on the day after
to-morrow, Wednesday, the 13th current, at about half-past
eleven, at my residence, Dorotheen-Strasse, No. 37, and for
this purpose would honor me with a visit. In case of your
consent, I trust you will make an appointment for to-morrow
afternoon or evening, when I can visit you and make the further
necessary arrangements.
With great respect, reverend sir, I remain faithfully,
VON BISMARCK-SCHÖNHAUSEN, _M. Sec. Ch._
Among the friends who about that time visited Bismarck’s hospitable
though simple household in the Dorotheen-Strasse (afterwards in the
Behren-Strasse, No. 60), we may name Von Savigny, André, and Von
Kleist-Retzow.
Bismarck’s life in those days was almost entirely absorbed by politics:
sessions of the Chambers, commissions, committees, clubs, and
appointments of all kinds occupied him, and politics formed the theme of
the conversations he held in the evening in the beer-saloon of Schwarz
(corner of Friedichs and Leipziger Strassen), when he went in to drink a
glass of Grünthaler beer. This beer-saloon—it is still existent, although
in another locality and under other management—was a principal centre of
the conservatives; it was jestingly said, that even the landlord’s little
dog was so conservative that he barked at every democrat.
[Illustration]
At another establishment, not that of Schwarz, Bismarck had a little
adventure. He had just taken a seat, when a particularly offensive
expression was used at the next table concerning a member of the Royal
Family. Bismarck immediately rose to his full height, turned to the
speaker, and thundered forth:—“Out of the house! If you are not off when
I have drunk this beer, I will break this glass on your head!” At this
there ensued a fierce commotion, and threatening outcries resounded
in all directions. Without the slightest notice Bismarck finished his
draught, and then brought it down upon the offender’s pate with such
effect that the glass flew into fragments, and the man fell down, howling
with anguish. There was a deep silence, during which Bismarck’s voice
was heard to say, in the quietest tone, as if nothing whatever had
taken place:—“Waiter, what is to pay for this broken glass?” At this
exclamations were heard, but not against Bismarck; every one rejoiced and
cried:—“That was right! That is the proper thing to do! The wretch richly
deserved it!” This deed had its intended effect, and Bismarck went on his
way unmolested.
There was something indescribably commanding in his firm countenance,
with its close beard, and the cold glance which lay in his eyes, in his
form and whole bearing, at this time. This a certain Herr Nelke (Pink)
or Stengel (Stalk)—we are not certain of the name—one day learnt to
his cost. Bismarck was returning from Potsdam with the venerable and
worthy Lieutenant-Colonel von Wolden, who is still remembered in certain
circles. In the coupé a silly bagman or something of that kind was making
a violent political speech, and at last ventured to ridicule and libel
the grizzly Lieutenant-Colonel to his face. Bismarck looked at the man,
who was continuing his insults, for a time, until the train stopped at
the station in Berlin. Bismarck paced along the platform at his full
height, and advanced in the firmest attitude to the chattering gentleman,
so that he involuntarily receded a step with alarm. Silently Bismarck
approached and drove him to the wall, and then simply asked him,
“What is your name?”
“Nelke, my name is Nelke!” stammered the person addressed, with a pale
and anxious face.
“Then take care, you Nelke (Pink) you—or I shall have to pluck you!”
He then turned and left the poor Pink in a crushed state—but richer by a
golden lesson—leaning against the wall.
Bismarck wore a long yellowish-gray overcoat, which to this day is called
in his house the “dyke coat,” as he was accustomed to put it on when
he visited the dyke, for which purpose it had done long and faithful
service. In Fritz Reuter’s “Journey to Constantinople” the Commerce
Councillor Schwofel says:—“In all Eisenach there are only three white
hats; His Royal Highness wears one when he is there; Mr. O’Kelly wears
the second; and I wear the third. Certainly there are plenty more white
hats in the place, but these are the most important.” We might say
here that Berlin in those days only contained three yellow overcoats;
Bismarck wore one of these; the immortal Baron von Hertefeld wore the
second, until he died, the last of his memorable race, as Hereditary
Grand Huntsman, at Cleve, in 1867; and the author of this book the third.
There might be many more yellow coats in Berlin, but these were the most
important.
Bismarck very often, as did many members of the conservative
party, visited the office of the _New Prussian Gazette_, in the
Dessauer-Strasse, No. 5, to learn the news. He was one of those,
however, who always brought more than he carried away. Bismarck is an
admirable narrator, especially of anecdotes, which he used to point
with epigrammatic skill; the under-current of little traits of malice
are generally invested with a dose of good humor, so that the subject
of the stories were obliged to laugh themselves. The Napoleonist Duc de
Persigny would no doubt have laughed had he heard Bismarck in those days.
Fialin de Persigny at that time was intrusted with a political mission in
Berlin, which he no doubt carried through to the greatest satisfaction of
the higher powers; but he exhibited such _disinvolture_ in the circles
of the court society, and so naïve an admiration for female beauty, that
a number of tales passed current at his expense. Bismarck’s mode of
narration was only tinged with good humor in the majority of cases, not
in all; he could be exceedingly peppery, and could give vent to severe
sarcasms, and shoot off arrows which pierced through and through.
He was, however, not only a teller of anecdotes in the editorial room of
the _New Prussian Gazette_; he supported the paper he had contributed
to found with original articles. These were mostly written at the great
round table where so many distinguished men have taken their seats,
from Von Radowitz and Bethmann-Hollweg to Count Arnim, Pernice, Stahl,
Von Gerlach, and Huber; and he wrote in his peculiar firm, but high and
compact style. Sometimes he rushed into the room with hasty greeting, and
stood at the high desk, retaining his hat and gloves in his left hand,
and threw some lines swiftly on to paper. “Put the national motto to
these,” he would exclaim to the editor-in-chief, and ran off with another
salutation. He was always full of life and activity.
[Illustration]
After the close of this session, on the 25th of February, 1850, he
returned for a short time to Schönhausen, and in the following April we
discover him again in Erfurt, at the Union Parliament. He had, as we
know, been opposed from the very beginning to these attempts at union;
they were not, in his firm opinion, fraught with any fortunate omen to
Prussia. The very next few months proved that his acute insight and his
Prussian patriotism had not erred. We need not therefore be astonished
that he gave vent to his patriotic sorrow at the Erfurt project, and the
humiliations contemplated to Prussia thereby, in unmeasured language. He
closed one of his speeches of that time with the following sentences:—
“It has been a painful feeling for me to see here Prussians, and not
nominal Prussians only, who advocate this constitution, who have defended
it with ardor. It would have been a humiliating feeling to me, and so
it would have been to thousands and thousands of my fellow-countrymen,
to see the representatives of princes whom I honor in their own sphere,
but who are not my liege-lords, clothed with supreme power; a feeling
the bitterness of which could not be diminished by seeing the seats we
occupy decked with colors—never those of the German empire—but which for
two years have been the colors of rebellion and of the barricades, colors
worn in my native land by the democrat alone, except when in sorrowful
obedience by the soldier. Gentlemen! If you make no more concessions
than are contained in this constitution to the Prussian—ancient Prussian
spirit—call it obstinate Prussian feeling if you choose—I do not believe
it will be realized; and if you endeavor to force this constitution on
this Prussian spirit, you will find it to be a Bucephalus, who bears
his accustomed lord and rider with daring joy, but who will cast the
unwelcome Sunday rider with his black-red-gold harness to the earth. I
find one comfort against these eventualities in the firm conviction that
no long time will elapse ere the parties to this constitution will stand,
as, in the fable of Lafontaine, the two doctors stood by the patient
whose corpse they were abandoning. The one said, ‘He is dead, I said so
from the beginning!’—the other, ‘Had he followed my advice, he would have
been alive now.’”
The further debates of the Erfurt Parliament gave him leisure enough,
but this leisure brought no vigor with it, for the impression of a great
political blunder sat heavy on the souls of Bismarck and his political
partisans.
Bismarck wished to reinvigorate himself by a thorough hunting-party;
he conferred with the Privy Councillor Oppermann, one of the “mighty
hunters” of Prussia; this gentleman joined him with enthusiasm, and they
communicated through the Oberforstmeister von Wedell, in Schleusingen,
to obtain a woodcock foray with the famous shot Oberförster Klingner.
Bismarck and Oppermann left Erfurt one morning together. At the first
stage the travellers refreshed themselves at Arnstadt, as keen sportsmen,
thinking nothing of the caddish opinions of the day, by a plentiful
breakfast at eight o’clock, of delicate groundlings, and drank 1811
Bocksbeutel therewith. At the succeeding stations they whetted their
appetites with trout, and drank beer with them, as the nectar of 1811
would allow no other wines to attract the palate. On their arrival in
Schleusingen at 3 P.M., they had more trout and beer, then an interview
and arrangements with the Oberförster, and in the evening more trout,
which Oppermann ate with wine sauce, Bismarck remaining true to beer
despite of urgent dissuasions. At night, about 12 o’clock, the
Oberförster made his appearance with a keeper, to take the gentlemen off
to the forest. Bismarck, however, was in a very lamentable plight; the
mixture of fish and beer did not suit his constitution, and he was in a
feverish state. He was advised to have some peppermint and stop in bed,
but it was in vain; the keen sportsman was not afraid of stomach-ache; he
was soon dressed, and away they went. Oppermann fired and killed a bird,
but Bismarck returned home with nothing. He had put up two woodcocks,
but at the decisive moment he fired both times at the wrong instant.
The keeper showed him another woodcock, but Bismarck was unfit for any
further exertion; he returned to Schleusingen and went to bed. By eleven
o’clock the mischief was ended by some strong grog, and the sportsmen
then went by the express coach over the hills, and arrived very merrily
in Erfurt by the evening. Bismarck, however, has never taken beer upon
trout since.
During his stay in Erfurt, Dr. Stahl was presented with an album by his
admirers. On its eleventh page, the album (which was afterwards printed)
contains the following inscription:—
“Our watchword therefore is not ‘A United State at any price,’
but, ‘The independence of the Prussian Crown at every price.’
“BISMARCK-SCHÖNHAUSEN,
_Deputy for Brandenburg_.
“Erfurt, 24th April, 1850.”
This expression, if we are not mistaken, was a quotation from a speech
made by Stahl, at that time in Erfurt. Evidently it came from Bismarck’s
inmost soul.
[Illustration]
After his return from Erfurt, Bismarck dedicated some weeks to his
business in Schönhausen, and then travelled into Pomerania with his
family. It is this journey of which such humorous mention is made in the
two following letters to his sister:
BISMARCK TO FRAU VON ARNIM.
Schönhausen, 28th June, 1850.
I write you a solemn letter of congratulation on the occasion
(I think) of your twenty-fourth birthday. (I won’t tell any
body of this.) You are now really a major, or, rather, would
have been so, had you not had the misfortune to belong to the
female sex, whose limbs, in the eyes of jurists, can never
emerge from minority—not even when they are the mothers of the
lustiest of Jacks. Why this apparent injustice is a very wise
arrangement I will instruct you, when, I hope some fortnight
hence, I have you _à la portée de la voix humaine_ before me.
Johanna—who at the present time is in the arms of Lieutenant
Morpheus—will have written to you what is in prospect for
me. The boy bellowing in a major key, the girl in minor, two
singing nurse-girls, wet napkins and milk-bottles, myself in
the character of an affectionate Paterfamilias. I resisted a
long time, but as all the mothers and aunts were unanimous that
poor little Molly could only be cured by sea-water and air,
I should, if I resisted any longer, have my avarice and my
paternal barbarity paraded before me on the occasion of every
cold the child will catch till it is seventy, with the words:
“Don’t you see! Ah! if the poor child could but have gone to
the seaside!” The little being is suffering from the eyes,
which are tearful and sticky. Perhaps this arises from the salt
baths, perhaps from eye-teeth. Johanna is dreadfully excited
about it, and for her satisfaction I have sent to-day for Dr.
Bünger, at Stendal, who is the Fanninger of the Alt Mark. We
take it for granted that you will be at home next month, and
do not contemplate an excursion yourselves, in which event we
would defer our visit until our return. But we write in order
to settle time and place. I have very unwillingly decided to
abandon my country laziness here, but now that it is settled, I
see rose-colored hues in the affair, and am heartily delighted
to seek you in the cavern, which I only know to be situated
some ten feet above the earth, and hope to seize the herring
myself in the depths of the Baltic. Johanna is still asleep,
or she would certainly send many greetings. For reasons of
health I now rise at six o’clock. Hoping soon to see you, I
invoke God’s blessing on you and yours, for this year and all
those to come.
* * * * *
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Schönhausen, 8th July, 1850.
Yesterday a letter arrived from Oscar, according to which he
will also be in Berlin to-morrow, but will not return until
Thursday. I am very sorry your horses will be kept at work
for two days together, but Oscar will not be able to set out
on Wednesday, and it would be inconvenient for us to remain
a day and a half in Berlin without any business whatever, or
any other motive. The children and servants, Oscar, Johanna,
and I, could not go in one carriage. I therefore remain, and
my principal reason for writing to you is in relation to my
former letter, according to which we should reach Angermünde
on Wednesday and find horses at Gerswalde, unless you have
arranged it yourselves differently—in which case Oscar will let
me know, and it will be all right. I do not wish to propose
any other route, or it will bring the horses into confusion,
from the little time before us. This journey I perceive will
give me an introduction to the new Lunatic Asylum, or at least
the Second Chamber, for life. I already see myself on the
platform at Genthin with the children; then both of us in the
carriage with all sort of infantine requirements, businesses
at which one turns up one’s nose—Johanna does not like to
give the boy the breast, and he roars himself blue—then come
official crowds, the inn, with both howlers in the Stettin
railway-yard—at Angermünde, we shall have to wait an hour for
the horses, and pack ourselves up again. How shall we get from
Kröchlendorf to Külz? If we have to remain a night in Stettin
it will be horrible. Last year I had to undergo all this with
Marie and her screaming. Yesterday I got so despairing as to
all these things that I positively determined to give the whole
journey up, and so went to bed, determined at least to coach
it right through or stop somewhere. But what do we not do for
domestic peace? “The young cousins ought to know each other,
and who can tell when Johanna will see you again?” In the night
she attacked me with the boy in her arms, and with the arts
that lost us Paradise she naturally succeeded, and every thing
remains as before. But I feel that I am myself the victim of
a terrible wrong; next year I shall be forced to travel about
with three cradles, nurses, sheets, and all the rest. I wake
at six o’clock in a mild rage, and can sleep no more, from the
pictures of travel which my fancy paints me in the blackest
hues—down to the picnics in the sandhills of Stolpmünde. And
even were one’s expenses paid! But to throw away the ruins of
a once brilliant fortune by travelling about with suckling
children! I am very unhappy!
Therefore, on Wednesday we reach Gerswalde. Perhaps I had in
the end better have gone by way of Passow, and you would not
have had to send so far to Prenzlau as to G. However, it is a
_fait accompli_; and the misery of choice is succeeded by the
rest of resignation. Johanna greets you and packs. We shall
send some of our things per freight; Johanna is therefore in
some anxiety about her toilette, in case you Boitzenbürgers
have company.
The period till the latter autumn of 1850 was very instructive to
Bismarck as a politician; he continued to observe—we should, had not his
Prussian heart been in the task, have said with scientific attention
and curiosity—the effort made by Radowitz to save the Union; he was
astonished at the dexterity of this statesman, but he also saw clearly
that all this dexterity would fail, for want of real pressure. Bismarck
learnt that it was as impossible to create a German Unity as any
other form of state, if one is wanting in courage or power to exert a
sufficient pressure upon that which opposes. While Austria opposed, union
was not possible without war, nor did Bismarck forget this truth.
The triple alliance collapsed, war was forbidden by the political facts
of the time—the union was abandoned, Herr von Radowitz resigned, and Herr
von Manteuffel, who then entered upon his office as Minister of Foreign
Affairs, went to Olmütz.
What a terrible outcry was raised as to this visit to Olmütz at the time,
and how greatly Herr von Manteuffel was censured on the subject! Prussian
feeling was deeply wounded, and was worthy of much respect; it was a
severe transposition—but from Erfurt to Olmütz was a necessity, if it
were not resolved to break the opposition of Austria by the sword. Herr
von Manteuffel, however, who entered upon this severe task in patriotic
devotion to his country, certainly did not deserve the flood of abuse
which was heaped upon his head for many years. He, at least, had not led
Prussia to Erfurt.
On the 3d December, 1850, Bismarck in a long speech defended the policy
of the Ministry respecting the negotiations at Olmütz. He emphasized the
community of interests existing between Prussia and Austria in reference
to revolution, on the community of action of both States in German
affairs. He censured war, by which Prussia would have set her existence
upon the hazard of the die, in view of the threatening attitude abroad,
and would have done so, not for herself, but for the lurking democracy.
It will be understood that much of the so-called disgrace of Olmütz was
cast upon Bismarck, and he was bitterly censured until the year 1866 for
having defended those negotiations.
In the course of the session Bismarck had an opportunity of pronouncing a
brilliant defense of the Prussian nobility, then assailed with unequalled
license and malice. His words were these:—
“You ought not to undervalue in these latter days the services of that
class, whether as officers of the army, or in such positions where landed
property enables it to fight against anarchy and for the salvation of
Prussia. The nobility of Prussia has in these affairs been spinning
no silk, take it as a whole; it will be remembered that its immediate
ancestry conquered the Westphalian Land Tax in the Rhine Province, and
that its grandfathers paid for the Patow Promemoria with their blood in
Silesia. In like manner, you will find the sons of this class ever among
the truest servants of the country. It is true the Prussian nobility have
had their Jena; in common with the political associates of those who now
attack it, they have had their Second United Diet. If, however, I survey
their history as a great whole, I believe there exist no reasons for
such attacks as we hear in this place, and I do not think it necessary
to despair of discovering within this class worthy members of a Prussian
peerage.”
To the continually reiterated taunt concerning Junkerdom and the Junker
party, he fearlessly replied:—
“I am proud to be a Prussian Junker, and feel honored, by the
appellation. Whigs and Tories were terms which once also had a very mean
signification; and be assured, gentlemen, that we shall on our part bring
Junkerdom to be regarded with honor and respect.”
We here take leave of Bismarck’s activity as a conservative party leader
in the Second Chamber. This volcanic earth in the Hardenberg Palace,
on the Dönhoffsplatz, he only re-entered eleven years afterwards as a
Minister, although in the winter of 1851-’2 he several times came from
Frankfurt to Berlin, and also appeared in the Chamber.
Book the Fourth.
ON THE VOYAGE OF LIFE.
[Illustration: ON THE VOYAGE OF LIFE.]
CHAPTER I.
ON THE VOYAGE OF LIFE.
[1851-1859.]
Ambassador.—Interview with the King.—Lieut.-General von
Rochow.—Anecdotes.—Frankfurt.—Reception of the Prince of
Prussia.—Society at Frankfurt.—The King’s Birthday.—Position of
Prussia.—Correspondence.
At some resting-place on a journey into Pomerania which Bismarck
undertook in the early spring of 1851, he heard from several persons of
his appointment as Ambassador to the Diet in Frankfurt-on-the Maine,
where the Diet was just then re-assembling. That this was not true he
knew, but that he was very likely intended for the post he considered far
from impossible. He thought deeply over the matter; the reflection was a
novel one, but by no means unwelcome; to him a parliamentary career had
become the less pleasing the longer he had followed it—he was not vain
enough for that: his manly self-confidence, however, was considerable,
and perhaps he thought of his mother’s predictions. On his return to
Berlin, after minute self-examination, he determined to accept the
position of Ambassador to the Diet, should it be offered him.
[Illustration]
We do not know whether the idea of intrusting Bismarck with this
office—unquestionably the most important which Prussia at that time had
to fill—first occurred to Frederick William IV. himself, or whether
it was the thought of the Minister von Manteuffel; at any rate it was
founded on the assumption that Bismarck would be a _persona grata_ to
Austria, as it was then Prussia’s problem to treat of German politics
with the best understanding towards Austria. It was the custom of
Frederick William IV., who more than proved how dear every thing that
concerned Germany was to his heart, to select his Ambassador to the Diet
with the utmost care; and the delicate circumstances of the time rendered
the necessity for caution all the greater. Yet, it will be said, on this
occasion his choice fell upon a man who had hitherto never served in
diplomatic matters. We certainly know from the mouth of a Minister of
State, on very confidential terms with the King, that the latter “was
much attached to Bismarck, and expected great things at his hands.”
Bismarck paid a visit to Herr von Manteuffel; the latter soon told
him that His Majesty the King desired to speak with him, and then,
without any circumlocution, asked him in what his views concerning
the ambassadorship consisted. The cautious Minister was not a little
surprised when Bismarck, in so many words, declared himself prepared
to undertake it. He was evidently not without hesitation at so rapid
a decision; desiring him, however, to wait upon His Majesty the King
without delay.
Bismarck was received by his King, at Sans-Souci, with that favor and
grace which he ever evinced towards him; but the King was even perhaps
more astonished than his Prime Minister, when Bismarck frankly and
honestly declared—“If your Majesty is desirous of trying the experiment,
I am ready to fulfill your wishes!”
Frederick William IV. perhaps thought there was a certain degree of
temerity in the rapid decision of Bismarck, and drew his attention to the
significance and difficulty of the position.
“Your Majesty can surely try me,” replied Bismarck; “if it prove a
failure, I can be recalled in six months, or even sooner than that!”
Despite all the doubts and hesitation which arose in his mind, the King
remained firm to his intention, and in May, 1851, Bismarck was appointed
to the post of First Secretary of the Embassy to the Diet, with the title
of Privy Councillor.
He immediately departed for his post. He here found himself on new,
and, to him, entirely strange ground, and his duty was certainly not
rendered easy for him. Lieut.-General Theodor Rochus von Rochow, who
was to introduce him to his new position, kept him at a distance from
actual business, with the well-known and intelligible jealousy which
most men entertain towards their successors in office. Herr von Gruner
was a liberal and an opponent of Bismarck’s, but the other German
representatives felt a sort of virtuous shudder at the famous reactionary
Junker. Perhaps the Presiding Deputy, Count von Thun-Hohenstein, who
thought to see in Bismarck the thorough partisan of Austria, was the
only person who bid him welcome, at the same time with the intention of
causing him to see what marked influence Austria possessed. This was a
rather strong diplomatic blunder, for Bismarck knew precisely how to take
and retain his proper position.
A pretty anecdote was related at the time, for which certainly we can not
absolutely vouch, but if not true, it might have been. Bismarck one day
paid the Presiding Deputy a visit. Count Thun received him with a sort of
brusque familiarity, went on coolly smoking his cigar, and did not even
ask Bismarck to take a chair. The latter simply took out his cigar-case,
pulled out a cigar, and said, in an easy tone, “May I beg a light,
Excellency?” Excellency, astonished to the greatest degree, supplied the
desired light. Bismarck got a good blaze up and then took the unoffered
seat in the coolest way in the world, and led the way to a conversation.
Bismarck never allowed any liberties with himself, but still less would
he tolerate them when they were offered to him as the representative of
his Sovereign.
In the August of the same year he received the rank of Ambassador.
The Councillors at the Embassy consisted of the Legations—Rath Otto
Wentzel, and as Attachés, the Count Lynar, and Count Theodor of
Stolberg-Wernigerode.
General von Rochow continued his jealous behavior to the end. On the day
of his departure he pretended to send Bismarck the current papers in a
green portfolio; but Bismarck found it empty. Bismarck immediately went
to the station, which Rochow had not expected, and was accordingly much
embarrassed. In the choicest expressions, Bismarck thanked him for all
the delicate kindnesses he had experienced from him, and added, that he
presumed to ascribe it to the friendship that Rochow had entertained for
his deceased father. These few moments could scarcely have been very
pleasant to the poor General.
[Illustration]
During this first visit to Frankfurt, Bismarck resided with his friend
Count Lynar (who subsequently died at Paris), in the house of M. Krug,
a merchant, in the Hoch-Strasse, whose wife was a native of Berlin.
He was unable to work much at the Bills of the Bund, and General von
Rochow, famous for his wit, jested not a little at Bismarck’s late habits
of rising, although he was far more industrious than was generally
apparent, being engaged in an active correspondence with his political
friends in Berlin, especially with the Actual Privy Councillor, Freiherr
von Manteuffel II. Before dinner he usually rode out, and, in order to
feel his ground, visited the neighboring Courts of Darmstadt, Biebrich,
and Karlsruhe, where his old friend Von Savigny was then Prussian Envoy.
An acute, sometimes a severe, judge of character, as well as an observer
of passing events; Bismarck had, at the desire, or, at any rate, with
the consent of Rochow, undertaken an immediate part in the press. The
articles contributed or suggested by him created much attention; they
possessed wit and point, often destroying the arguments of his opponents;
this became his peculiar province. At other times, as a new man in
diplomacy, he assisted at the discussions in the society of Herr von
Rochow, in order to become familiar with the course of business and the
exterior formalities of diplomacy.
On the 11th of July, 1851, the then Prince of Prussia (now King) visited
Frankfurt, and was received by the body corporate of the Bund, and the
general staff. The Prince was graciously inclined towards Bismarck,
but made some observations during his passage to the terminus to Herr
von Rochow, on the anomaly of this militia-lieutenant—for Bismarck had
appeared in uniform, being a Deputy of the Bund. General von Rochow,
however, who was wise enough not to undervalue Bismarck’s importance,
although he did not always testify the liveliest friendship towards
him, replied, “The selection is worthy, novel, and vigorous; your Royal
Highness will certainly find all your requirements fulfilled.”
[Illustration]
The Prince could reply nothing to this, and, in fact, he certainly
entertained the most favorable opinion of this still somewhat youthful
champion of the justice and the honor of Prussia.
“I believe,” General von Rochow said at the time, “he only wished
him to have possessed gray hair and a few additional years; but it is
questionable whether the plans of the Prince would be much nearer their
fulfillment for those.”
This is all very characteristic, considering the relation destined at
a future time to subsist between King William and Bismarck. Personal
good-will in the highest degree he entertained for him, but want of
confidence in his youth and inexperience.
The Prince of Prussia frequently alluded to this view, but Rochow found
means of quieting his fears. Otherwise he was fond of having Bismarck
about him, conversed with him freely, drove about, and soon went to the
theatre with him. The Prince exhibited real friendship for Bismarck, and,
on the occasion of the birth of a son, in the following year (2d August,
1852), became its sponsor. Bismarck’s younger son is named William after
his royal godfather, although his usual name has continued to be “Bill.”
General von Rochow also, on his return to his post at St. Petersburg,
freely stated his anticipation of great things from the talents and
decision of character of his successor at Frankfurt.
When Bismarck became Envoy to the Bund, on the 18th August, 1851, he
rented a villa of the younger Rothschild of Naples, distant some quarter
of an hour from the city gate on the Bockenheimer Chaussée, close to the
frontier of Hesse; the same dwelling previously inhabited by the Archduke
John in his official capacity as Imperial Curator. In the garden, as upon
the flight of steps, the most magnificent flowers were arranged; it is
said there were more than one thousand camellias. Bismarck’s house, after
the arrival of Madame von Bismarck with her children, became the most
prominently hospitable house in Frankfurt.
He soon became intimate with the Austrian Ambassador. Count Thun was a
noble cavalier, and his very handsome wife, born a Countess Lamberg, knew
how to invest his house with great attractions. Bismarck also managed
to keep on terms with Count Thun’s successor, the well-known Freiherr
Prokesch von Osten, whose hatred of Prussia was so little a secret that
his nomination to the office was regarded as a demonstration against
Prussia; and this Bismarck did without in the least lowering the dignity
of Prussia—a problem somewhat difficult, considering the reputation of
this entirely Eastern diplomatist. Of a much more friendly character were
his relations to Count Rechberg, who replaced Prokesch.
The other representatives with whom Bismarck came into more intimate
contact were, Von Scherff, who represented the King of the Netherlands
as Grand-duke of Luxemburg, Von Fritsch (Grand-duke of Saxony), Von
Bülow (King of Denmark as Duke of Holstein and Lauenburg), Von Oertzen
(Mecklenburg), and Von Eisendecher (Oldenburg). Bismarck farmed some
sporting in conjunction with the English Ambassador, Sir Alexander Malet.
[Illustration]
Besides enjoying the society of the diplomatists, Bismarck liked to
mingle with the Prussian and foreign higher military officers; to
his dinners, soirées, and balls, he also invited musicians, authors,
and artists—a fact not of very frequent occurrence among the chief
diplomatists in Frankfurt, and one which created some notice. His
intercourse with these circles was principally conducted by the highly
esteemed artist Professor Becker, who, with his wife and handsome
daughters, belonged to the most intimate society of his house. The
excellent portrait of Bismarck which hangs in the room of the Countess at
Berlin, is by Professor Becker.
Still more remarkable than this intercourse with painters and sculptors
were certain domestic festivals, of which the people of Frankfurt had
never even dreamt before, and in which he was imitated by no one. He used
to give a feast to the domestics of his Pomeranian and Alt Mark property
on Twelfth Night, in the old Pomeranian style—about which there was much
curiosity.
The most brilliant festival of the year was that of the 15th October,
on the birthday of the King. In the morning there was solemn service in
the large Reformed Church in the Corn-market, at which Bismarck attended
with the whole suite of the Embassy in full gala dress. Then followed
a magnificent dinner, and in the evening he was accustomed to visit
the Prussian soldiers, who lay in garrison in Frankfurt, amidst their
festivities.
[Illustration]
Bismarck will never be forgotten by the Prussian soldiers who were in
Frankfurt during his days; they all knew him, for at every solemnity he
appeared in his uniform as Landwehr Lieutenant, with the “Safety” Medal,
to witness the parades and exercises.
The soldiers always called him “His Excellency Herr Lieutenant von
Bismarck;” they loved him sincerely, because they felt that he loved
every Prussian soldier.
The “Safety” Medal was no longer solitary upon his breast; the time had
arrived when stars and grand crosses were sent to him from every side.
Prussian travellers on their journey were hospitably received at his
house, and many of those who were returning from the Rhenish Baths, he
not only invited to dinner, but, in the discreetest manner, aided with
loans, often of the greatest necessity to them. In short, Bismarck not
only represented his Sovereign in the most brilliant but the wisest
manner.
When with considerable rapidity he had familiarized himself with the
duties of his office, he began to work with assiduity and continuity.
After tea, at ten o’clock, he often dictated for three or four hours, and
so well, that there was seldom any necessity for altering a word, so that
dispatches could be forwarded to Berlin by half-past six.
After business and receptions, which latter often rendered quiet
necessary, his recreations consisted of hunting and riding. He often had
his horse saddled at four in the morning, and rode for miles into the
country.
The more brilliant the social position of Bismarck had become, the more
difficult and thorny the political position remained. He was conscious—we
may say, to his great sorrow—from the very beginning, that the equal
rights of Prussia which he had always assumed, in speaking of going
hand-in-hand with Austria, as to German affairs, were not recognized
by Austria, but, on the contrary, she endeavored, with suspicious and
inimical feelings, to increase the difficulties which Prussia had to
fight against with all her might. Bismarck, by his personal influence,
had now obtained a few advantages, and worked decisively through the
press, on which he not only fixed his attention, but to which he devoted
his personal activity. In the matters of the Zollverein, he had a severe
and especial battle to fight, against the machinations of Austrian
politics. The _Hanover Zeitung_ published angry articles against the
ratification of the treaty of 7th September, 1851, just concluded with
Prussia. It was the personal influence of Bismarck alone upon the
Hanoverian Ambassador, Von Schele, that caused the opposition against the
ratification of this treaty to be abandoned.
In the Diet itself, Bismarck was successful in establishing such an
order of business, to some extent limiting the arbitrary action of the
President, and finally led to some method in the debates of the Diet. It
might even be said that he soon attained a leading power in the Diet,
and thereby worked blessings for Prussia; but even all this could not
alter the unfortunate position of Prussian Germany, founded as it was
upon the principles of the Diet and the Zollverein. Had Austria given its
good-will, all this might have been effected, but in the teeth of its
ill-will, the whole negotiations could only terminate in ruin or in a
rupture.
The position of Prussia consisted in the fact, that the constitution
of the Diet had only become possible through the policy of Prince
Metternich. This policy, which advocated a probable segregation of
Austria from Germany, and at least left Prussia free room to act in North
Germany, ever moved in the most limited grooves. As Prince Schwarzenberg
adopted a policy diametrically opposed to this, which consciously and
deliberately determined upon the humiliation of Prussia, in order
afterwards to destroy it, and violated every form with the uttermost
carelessness, the conflict could only be a matter of time.
Bismarck was therefore necessarily made an antagonist of Austria by
the Schwarzenberg policy, continued by Count Buol Schauenstein; and
opposition against the anti-Prussian policy of the Vienna Cabinet became
the watchword for his political activity. This was soon very apparent,
nor did he conceal it the less, as his vigorous patriotism impelled him
to bring his opposition actually to bear; his frankness also rendered any
equivocation impossible. In such a course he could hardly depend upon any
co-operation from the King and the Prime Minister, Von Manteuffel, who
both hoped, discouraged by the failure of the Union negotiations, that
Austria might still revert to the earlier pro-Prussian policy of Prince
Metternich. Bismarck himself, although he could scarcely hope this,
ardently desired it. A position worthy of the Prussian kingdom in Germany
was that for which he had to strive—a position it ought to occupy, if it
were to worthily maintain its place in Europe; and desired to secure to
the German people those advantages, to be resigned by no people unless
at the peril of political death. Bismarck was determined to devote his
life to aiding the Prussian Crown in the attainment of this position.
He would rather have gone hand-in-hand with Austria; if this were an
impossibility, then without Austria; but should it prove necessary, then
antagonism to Austria. It must not be overlooked how, in the sequel,
Bismarck in every political struggle attempted to accomplish it in union
with Austria, in which he was sometimes successful, and how, when it
was impossible, he continued the effort without Austria, and finally in
opposition to Austria. It were superfluous here to pursue Bismarck’s
political career in the details of his German policy.
The following correspondence (rearranged by the translator in their
proper chronological order) passed during these years.
Frankfurt, 18th May, ’51.
Frankfurt is wretchedly wearisome; I am so spoilt with having
so much affection about me, and a great deal to do; and I now
first perceive how unthankful I have been towards many people
in Berlin—for I will not take you and yours into the question.
Even the coolness of fellow-countrymen and party associates
I had in Berlin is an intimate connection compared with the
relations one makes here; being, in fact, nothing more than
mutual suspicious espionage. If one had any thing indeed
to detect or to conceal! The people here worry themselves
about the merest trifles; and these diplomatists, with their
important nothings, already appear more ridiculous to me than
a Deputy of the Second Chamber in his full-blown dignity.
Unless outward events take place—and those we clever members
of the Diet can neither guide nor predetermine—I now know
accurately what we shall have done in one, two, or five years,
and could bring it about in twenty-four hours, if the others
would for a single day be reasonable and truthful. I never
doubted that they all made soup with water; but such a simple,
thin water-gruel, in which you can’t see a globule of fat,
astonishes me! Send me Justice X. or Herr von Sarsky hither
from the toll-gate, when they are washed and combed, and I will
lord it in diplomacy with them. I am making enormous progress
in the art of saying nothing in a great many words. I write
reports of many sheets, which read as tersely and roundly as
leading articles; and if Manteuffel can say what there is in
them, after he has read them, he can do more than I can.
Each of us pretends to believe of his neighbor that he is
full of thoughts and plans, if he would only tell; and at the
same time we none of us know an atom more of what is going
to happen to Germany than of next year’s snow. Nobody, not
even the most malicious skeptic of a democrat, believes what
quackery and self-importance there is in this diplomatizing.
Well, I have railed long enough, and now I will tell you that
I am very well. Yesterday I was in Mainz: the neighborhood is
lovely. The rye is in full ear, although it is infamously cold
all night and in the mornings. Excursions by railroad are the
best here. One can reach Heidelberg, Baden-Baden, Odenwald,
Homburg, Soden, Wiesbaden, Bingen, Rüdesheim, and Niederwald
comfortably in one day, stop five or six hours, and return
here in the evening. Until now I have not gone much about, but
shall do so, that I may take you about when you come. Rochow
started yesterday for Warsaw—he went off at nine o’clock in the
evening; the day after to-morrow he will be there, and probably
back in a week. As to politics and people, I can not write
much, as most of the letters are opened here. When they know
your address on mine, and your handwriting on your letters,
they will very likely find out they have no time to read family
letters.
* * * * *
Frankfurt, 3d July, 1851.
The day before yesterday I thankfully received your letter and
the news that you were all well. But do not forget, when you
write to me, that the letters are not only read by myself,
but by all sorts of postal spies; and do not inveigh against
certain persons in them, for that is all set down to the
husband—to my account; besides, you do the people injustice.
As to my appointment or non-appointment, I know no more than
was told me at my departure: all other things are possibilities
and conjectures. What is irregular in the matter is the silence
of the Government towards me, as it would be as well to let
me know for certain, and indeed officially, whether I am to
live here or in Pomerania with wife and child next month. Be
prudent in all you say to people, then, without exception—not
only against ——, particularly in opinions of persons, for you
can not conceive what one has to endure if one once becomes an
object of observation; be assured that whatever you say in the
—— or the bathing-machine is served up with sauce either here
or at Sans-Souci. Forgive me for scolding you so, but after
your last letter I must take up the diplomatic hedge-knife. If
—— and others could sow distrust in our diplomatic camp, they
would thereby attain one of the chief ends of their letter
robberies. I went the day before yesterday to Wiesbaden to ——,
and, with a mixture of sadness and wisdom, we went to see the
scene of former folly. Would it might please God to fill this
vessel with his clear and strong wine, in which formerly the
champagne of twenty-one years of youth foamed uselessly, and
left nothing but loathing behind. Where now are —— and Miss ——?
How many are buried with whom I then flirted, drank, and diced?
How many transformations have taken place in my views of the
world in these fourteen years, among which I have ever looked
upon the actually Present as the True? How little are some
things to me that then appeared great? How much is venerable
to me now, that I then ridiculed? How much foliage may bud,
grow green, give shadow, rustle, and worthlessly fade within
the next fourteen years, till 1865, if we live to see it? I
can not understand how a man who considers his own nature, and
yet knows nothing of God, and will know nothing, can endure
his existence from contempt and wearisomeness. I know not how
I could formerly support it; were I to live as then, without
God, without you, without my children! I should not, indeed,
know whether I had not better abandon life like a dirty shirt;
and yet most of my acquaintances are in that state, and live
on! If I ask of an individual, what object he has in living
on, in laboring and growing angry, in intriguing and spying,
I obtain no answer. Do not conclude from this _tirade_ that
my mood is dark; on the contrary, I feel like a person who
looks, on a fine September morning, on the yellowing foliage;
I am healthy and cheerful, but I feel some melancholy, some
longing for home, a desire for forests, ocean, wilderness, for
you and my children, mingled with the impressions of sunset
and of Beethoven. Instead of which I have to pay dreary visits
to —— and read endless ciphers about German steam corvettes
and cannon-balls, rusting and eating up money in Bremerhaven.
I should like to have a horse, but I could not ride alone—it
is too wearisome; and the society with whom one rides is also
wearisome. And now I must go to Rochow, and to all sorts of-ins
and-offs, who are here with the Archduchess Olga.
* * * * *
Frankfurt, 8th July, 1851.
Yesterday and to-day I have been anxious to write to you,
but in the whirl of business could not get so far until the
evening late, on my return from a walk during which I blew
away the dust of business with the summer night’s breeze,
moonlight, and the rustle of poplar foliage. On Saturday
afternoon I went with Rochow and Lynar to Rüdesheim. I there
took a boat, went out on the Rhine, and swam in the moonlight,
eyes and nose only above the tepid water, to the Rat Tower,
near Bingen, where the bad bishop met his end. There is
something strangely dreamy to lie in the water on a still
night, slowly driven by the stream, seeing the heavens, with
moon and stars, above, and on either hand the wood-capped
mountains and city spires in the moonlight, without hearing any
thing but one’s own gentle splashing. I should like to swim
like that every night. I then drank some very decent wine, and
sat for a long time smoking with Lynar on the balcony, the
Rhine below us. My small Testament and the starry night led to
some conversation on Christianity; and I shook earnestly at the
Rousseau-like virtue of his soul, only reducing him to silence.
As a child he has been ill-treated by nurses and tutors,
without really knowing his parents, and has emerged from his
youth with similar ideas, founded on a similar education, to
my own, but bears them with more content than ever has been my
case. Next day we went in the steamer to Coblenz, breakfasted
there for an hour, and returned in the same way to Frankfurt,
where we arrived in the evening. I undertook the journey
with the object of visiting old Metternich, at Johannisberg,
at his invitation; but the Rhine delighted me so much, that
I preferred a trip to Coblenz, and postponed the visit. We
saw the river, on our immediate journey to the Alps, in the
finest weather; on this fresh summer morning, and after the
dusty weariness in Frankfurt, it rises much in my esteem. I
look forward with real delight to spending a couple of days
with you, at Rüdesheim; the place is so calm and rural, the
people pleasant, and nothing dear. We would then take a small
rowing-boat, and go quietly down, climb the Niederwald, and
this and the other castle, and return by the steamer. One can
leave here in the morning early, stay eight hours at Rüdesheim,
Bingen, Rheinstein, and so forth, and return hither by the
evening. My appointment here seems now to be certain.
* * * * *
Frankfurt, 13th August, 1851.
I worked very hard to-day and yesterday about the King’s
journey, and a multitude of petty details concerning the minor
Courts, and I am now in hourly expectation of a tiresome
ambassadorial visit; so that this letter must be very short,
and yet serve as a love-token. Who has started this nonsense
about St. Petersburg? I heard the very first of it from your
letters. Will you not go to Nicolai? I should not think one
winter there at all disagreeable; but I am tired of these
separations, and the climate might not suit you and the babies.
I yesterday took a long and solitary walk into the mountains,
deep into the wonderful night. I had been at work from eight
o’clock till five, then dined, and luxuriated in the fresh
evening mountain air of the Taunus, after leaving this dusty
hole, by half an hour’s railway to Soden, some two miles behind
me. The King passes through here on the 19th, and returns, by
way of Ischl and Prague, to Berlin about the 7th of September.
I shall meet him at Coblenz, as I have much to say to ——. If he
brings my appointment, as I expect, I shall immediately hire
quarters, and then we can talk of your coming.
* * * * *
Frankfurt, 23d August, 1851.
In the midst of my business post time has arrived, and I will
rather write you a hasty note than not at all. Since Monday
I have been still going on. First, there was a great State
dinner here to the Emperor of Austria—twenty-thousand thalers’
worth of uniforms at table; then I went to Mainz to receive
the King; he was very gracious to me, for the first time after
a long interval harmless and merry. Next came a grand supper,
then work with Manteuffel till two; then a cigar with dear
old Stolberg; at half-past six parade, and a great theatrical
representation. I went on as far as Darmstadt; there we dined.
The King then went to Baden, and after three weary hours I
reached this place in the evening with ——. On Wednesday I
was summoned from my bed to the Duke of Nassau at Bieberich,
and there dined. Late in the evening I returned, to be waked
very early next morning by the President G. and I., who took
possession of me and led me off to Heidelberg, where I remained
the night, and enjoyed some delightful hours with them at
Castle Wolfsbrunn and Neckarsteinach and last night returned
from this excess. G. was pleasanter than ever, did not dispute,
grew enthusiastic, poetical, and generous. At the Castle we
saw a sunset the day before yesterday like that one at Rigi.
We breakfasted up there, walked to Wolfsbrunn, where I drank
some beer at the same table I did with you; then boated up the
Neckar to Steinach, and parted in the evening at Heidelberg. G.
goes to-day to Coblenz, I. to Italy.
Bismarck was so often summoned to Berlin during his residence at
Frankfurt, that it would be wearisome to relate all these journeys
here. In one year, we do not exactly remember which, he travelled
between Berlin and Frankfurt no less than 2600 miles. His counsel was
often required by the highest authority, and very often Bismarck was
very nearly becoming a Minister, even then; nor was it the powerful
influence of both sides which conclusively prevented his entry into the
Ministry, but his own aversion to become a Minister so soon. He declared
to an acquaintance in those days that he would prefer to be first an
ambassador for ten years, and then a Minister for ten years more, that
he might close his days as a country nobleman thereafter in peace. King
Frederick William IV., who regarded it as necessary for Bismarck’s
political education that he should go to Vienna, intrusted him in the
May of 1852 with an important mission thither; but above this was his
desire to restore a complete understanding between Austria and Prussia.
We already know that in this Bismarck was likely to become wrecked upon
the Schwarzenberg policy. In a personal sense, however, on following the
Imperial Court into Hungary, Bismarck received very pleasing impressions,
as to which he speaks in the following letters to his wife:—
Halle, 7th January, 1852.
I have never, as well as I can recollect, ever written to you
from hence, and I hope that it will not happen again. I have
really been thinking whether, after all, yesterday was not
Friday, on which I set out; it was certainly a _dies nefastus_
(N. N. will tell you what this means). In Giessen I got a room
as cold as ice, with three windows that wouldn’t shut; a bed
too short and too narrow; it was dirty, with bugs; infamous
coffee—never knew it so bad. At Guntershausen ladies came into
the first class; there was an end of smoking. A high lady of
commerce (N. N. will tell you what that is), with two lady’s
maids; sable furs; they spoke alternately with a Russian and
English accent in German, French very well, a little English,
but in my opinion they came from the Reezen Alley in Berlin,
and one of the lady’s maids was her mother, or elder lady of
commerce (N. N., etc.). Between Guntershausen and Gerstungen a
tube in the engine burst, so gently! The water all ran away;
so there we sat for an hour and a half in the open—very pretty
neighborhood, and a warm sunlight. I got into the second class
to smoke, and fell into the hands of a Berlinese Chamber and
Privy Council colleague, who had been drinking Homburg waters
for a fortnight, and asked me a lot of questions before a
number of Jews coming from the fair, until, in despair, I
took refuge with the Princess from the Reezen Alley. By this
stoppage we reached Halle three hours too late; the Berlin
train was gone a long time. Here I must sleep, and travel with
the luggage-train at half-past one to arrive at two. In the
station-yard there are two hotels; by accident I’m in the wrong
one; a gend’arme walked up and down the saloon, and seemed very
thoughtful about my beard, while I ate a tough beefsteak. I am
very unhappy, but will finish my bit of goose, drink some port
wine, and then to bed.
* * * * *
Berlin, 1st May, 1852.
I have just returned from an infinitely tedious dinner at Le
Coq’s, where I sat between L. G. and the younger M.—two persons
widely different in nature. I tried in vain to settle some
dispute about what is now agitating the King and the Chamber.
The one was dry, wise, and practical; the other delightful,
enthusiastic, and theoretical; he might really have forgotten
the world and its government, in his own views about them,
but the air of the Chambers has stimulated this impractical
direction in him, and in this gymnastic exercise of soul and
tongue he forgets, or holds cheap, what is necessary to be
done. There is really something quite demoralizing in the
atmosphere of the Chambers—the best people grow vain without
perceiving it, and get accustomed to the tribune as to a
toilet-table, by means of which they exhibit themselves to the
public. Forgive this political avalanche.
* * * * *
Berlin, 3d May, 1852.
I am really tired of being here, and long for the day
of departure. Chamber intrigues I find terribly shallow
and undignified; if one lives always amongst them, one
deceives one’s self, and they seem wonders. When I come
straightforwardly from Frankfurt I feel like a sober man who
has suddenly fallen amongst tipplers, I wish they would send me
to Constantinople; it would not be necessary to be returning
here every minute.
* * * * *
Vienna, 11th June, 1852.
“’S g’fällt mer hier gar net” (I don’t like this place at all)
as Schrenck says, although it was so pleasant with you, anno
’47; but I not only miss you, but I find myself not wanted,
and that is worse than I can make plain to your unpolitical
mind. If I were here, as I was there, for amusement, I could
not grumble: all those whom I have become acquainted with
are remarkably charming people, and the town is rather hot
with narrow streets, but still a splendid town. In business,
however, there prevails great _nonchalance_; either the people
don’t want to arrange with us, or they think we look upon
it as more important than appears to them. I fear that the
opportunity of coming to an understanding is gone, which will
prove a bad result for us; for it was thought that a very great
step towards reconciliation was taken in sending me, and they
will not soon send another here so desirous of coming to an
understanding, and who at the time can deal so freely. Forgive
me for writing polities to you, but when the heart is full,
etc. I am really drying up in this mishmash, and I am afraid I
shall begin to take an interest in it. I have just come from
the opera with old Westmoreland; Don Giovanni, played by a good
Italian Opera troop, in hearing which I felt the wretchedness
of the Frankfurt theatre doubly. Yesterday I went to
Schönbrunn, and thought of our romantic moonlight expedition,
as I looked at the tall hedges and the white statues in the
green thickets, peeped also at the private garden which we
first got into—quite forbidden ground—so, that the Jäger
sentinel, who was at his post, would not allow its even being
looked into.
* * * * *
Ofen, 23d June, ’52.
I have just come from the steamboat, and do not know how to
employ the interval until Hildebrand follows with my luggage,
better than in giving you some account of this very eastward
but very beautiful world. The Emperor graciously assigned me
quarters in his palace, and I am seated at an open window in
a spacious vaulted hall, listening to the evening bells of
Pesth. The view is charming. The castle stands high; beneath
me flows the Danube, spanned by the suspension bridge; beyond
is Pesth, and in the far distance is an endless plain melting
away into the purple twilight. Next to Pesth, on the left, I
see the upper course of the Danube; far, very far off from
me, viz., on the right bank, the river is fringed by the town
of Ofen; behind this are mountains, blue and bluer, and then
tinged with brownish-red in the evening, heaven glowing behind
them. In the midst of the two cities the broad sheet of water
lies, like Linz, broken only by the suspension bridge and a
woody island. The passage hither, at least from Gran to Pesth,
would have delighted you. Think of the Odenwald and the Taunus
brought close together, and the interval filled with the waters
of the Danube. The shady side of the voyage was the sunny side,
for the sun burnt us as if Tokay were to grow on the ship, and
the number of travellers was very great; but only fancy, not a
single Englishman amongst them—they can hardly have discovered
Hungary as yet. Otherwise these were queer folks—from every
oriental and occidental nation—greasy and washed. My chief
travelling companion was a very delightful General, with whom
I sat for the most part on the paddle-box and smoked. I am
getting somewhat impatient as to where Hildebrand can be; I am
lying in the window, half enthusiastic at the moonlight, half
waiting for him, as for one’s beloved—for I feel a marvellous
disposition for a clean shirt. If you could be here for a
moment, and could see the silvery stream of the Danube, the
dark mountains on a pale red ground, and the lights twinkling
up from Pesth, Vienna would sink in your estimation as compared
with Buda-Pesth, as the Hungarian calls it; you see I am also
an enthusiast for nature. I will now calm my excited blood
with a cup of tea, as Hildebrand has really arrived, and then
soon go to bed.
Last night I only had four hours’ sleep, and the Court is very
early here. The young Duke rises at five; I should then be a
very bad courtier if I thought of sleeping longer. Therefore,
with a glance at a gigantic tea-urn, and a seductive dish
containing ices, amongst other things, as I see, I waft you a
good-night from afar. What can that song be which has haunted
me all day long?
“Over the blue mountain, over the white sea foam,
Come, thou beloved one, come to thy lonely home!”
I can not tell who it was who sang this to me in “Old lang
syne.”
_The 24th June._—After a good night’s rest although upon a
flinty bed, I wish you a good morning. The entire landscape
before me swims in bright burning sunshine, so that I can
not look out without being dazzled. Until it is time to
begin my visits, I am sitting here alone at breakfast and
smoking in a very spacious apartment, four rooms—all vaulted
massively—two about the size of our dining-room, thick walls
like Schönhausen, giant walnut-wood cabinets, furniture of blue
silk, on the floor a number of yard-wide black stains, that
a more excited imagination than mine would take for blood,
but which I, _décidément_, declare to be ink. An incredibly
unskillful writer must have lived here, or another Luther
must several times have thrown very large inkstands at the
Adversary. A very obliging old servant in a bright yellow
livery shares the duties of the household with Hildebrand;
indeed they are all very obliging. In honor of the King’s
representative, the steamer yesterday hoisted the great
Prussian standard, and, thanks to the telegraph, a royal
carriage was in waiting at the landing-place. Don’t tell N. N.,
or he will write articles about it. Below, on long rafts, are
floating the queerest brown broad-hatted and broad-breeched
figures along the Danube. I am sorry that I am not an artist;
I should like to have introduced you to these wild faces, with
heavy mustaches and long hair, flashing black eyes, and their
picturesque draperies, as I beheld them yesterday. I must now
make an end and begin my visits. I do not know when you will
receive these lines; perhaps I shall send a courier to-morrow
or next day to Berlin, who can take them with him.
_Evening._—I have not had any opportunity as yet of forwarding
this. The lights again are twinkling up from Pesth; towards
the horizon, near the Theiss, there is lightning; above us
the heavens are full of stars. I have been in uniform the
greater part of the day, in private audience; I handed my
credentials to the youthful ruler of this land, and have been
agreeably impressed. After dinner the whole Court made an
excursion into the mountains, to the “pretty shepherdess;” who
is long since dead; some centuries ago King Matthew Corvinus
loved her. Thence there is a prospect of Ofen, its mountains
and plains, over woody Neckar-like rocks. A national feast
had brought thousands forth, thronging around the Emperor,
who mingled freely with them; with resounding _eljen evviva_
they danced Csardas, waltzed, sang, played music, climbed the
trees, and crowded round the Court. Upon a grass slope there
was a supper-table laid out for some twenty people—only on
one side, the other being left free for a view of the forest,
castle, city, and country; above us were tall beeches with
climbing Hungarians on the branches; behind us dense crowds
of people thronged together and pushing each other about; in
the distance wind instruments mingled with song, wild gypsy
music. Illuminations, moonshine, and the rosy twilight, torches
flitting through the forest—the whole might have figured
unchanged as a great scene of effect in a romantic opera. Next
to me sat the venerable Archbishop of Gran, the Primate of
Hungary, in a black silk talar with a red cape; on the other
a very charming and elegant cavalry general. You see that
the picture was a variegated one, rich in contrasts. Then we
drove home in the moonshine by torchlight. Tell Frau von V.
that her brother was a most delightful man, as I could not
but expect from her two sisters whom I already knew. I had
just received a telegraphic dispatch from Berlin; it contained
only four letters—_Nein_ (No!). A word full of significance.
I was told to-day of the storm of the castle three years ago
by the insurgents; at this the brave General Hentzi and the
whole garrison, after a wonderfully courageous resistance,
were cut down. The black stains upon my floor are partly the
result of fire, and where I am writing bursting grenades were
then dancing, and the fight went on over smoking ruins. It
has only been restored a few weeks ago, before the arrival
of the Emperor. It is very quiet and peaceful up here now.
I hear nothing but the ticking of a clock, and the sound of
distant carriage-wheels below. May angels watch over thee—a
bearskin-capped grenadier does so with me—I can see six inches
of his bayonet at a couple of arms’ length from me above the
window-sill, and the reflection of a foot. He stands on the
terrace by the Danube, and is probably thinking of his Nanny.
[Illustration: BISMARCK’S ONLY SISTER.
(Frau von Arnim.)]
* * * * *
Szolnok, 27th June, 1852.
In your atlases you will find a map of Hungary, and on this
a river Theiss, and, if you follow up the source towards
Szegedin, a place named Szolnok. Yesterday I went by railway
from Pesth to Alberti-Josa, where a Prince W. lies in garrison.
He is married to a Princess M. I paid him a visit in order
to inform —— of the state of his health. This place lies on
the edge of the Hungarian steppes between the Danube and the
Theiss, which I desired to see by way of a joke. I was not
allowed to ride without an escort, as the district is overrun
by cavalry robber bands, here called Betyars, and is therefore
unsafe. After a comfortable breakfast under the shade of a
Schönhausen lime, I got upon a low wagon with sacks of straw
and three horses; the Uhlans loaded their carbines, mounted,
and away they went at full gallop. Hildebrand and a Hungarian
servant occupied the front seat, and our coachman was a dark
brown peasant, with a mustache, a broad-brimmed hat, long
hair shining with fat, a shirt only reaching to the stomach,
leaving a broad band of dark brown skin visible, to where the
white trowsers begin, each leg of which would make a woman’s
gown, and reach to the knee, where boots and spurs complete the
costume. Only think of firm grass plat, as level as a table, on
which nothing can be seen for miles towards the horizon, except
the tall naked beams of the wells dug for the half-wild horses
and oxen; thousands of whity-brown oxen, with long horns, as
timorous as deer; rough, disreputable-looking horses, watched
by half-naked shepherds on horseback, with lances; endless
herds of swine, among which you see a donkey carrying the
fur-cloak (_bunda_) of the herdsman, and sometimes himself;
huge swarms of bustards, hares, rabbits, and other small deer;
near a salt-water pool, wild geese, ducks, and lapwings; such
were the objects we flew by, and which flew by us during our
three hours’ journey of seven miles to Ketskemet, with a slight
halt at a csarda (inn). Ketskemet is a village, the streets
of which, if the inhabitants are left out, reminds one of the
small end of Schönhausen. It has, however, forty-five thousand
inhabitants, unpaved streets, low houses, closed on the eastern
side against the sun, with huge cattle-yards. A foreign
ambassador was such an unusual sight there—and my Magyar
servant rattled out the “excellency” to such a degree—that I
immediately obtained a guard of honor, the village authorities
announced themselves, and a change of horses was required.
I spent the evening with a delightful set of officers, who
insisted upon my taking an additional escort, and entertained
me with a number of robber stories. In the very neighborhood
into which I was going the worst robber-nests exist; on the
Theiss, the morasses and wilds render their destruction almost
impossible. They are splendidly horsed and armed, these
Betyars; they attack travellers and farms in bands of fifteen
or twenty strong, and next day are twenty miles away. They are
polite to respectable people. I had left the greater part of
my ready money with Prince W., and only had some linen with
me, and really felt a desire to make the nearer acquaintance
of these mounted brigands, in their great fur dresses, with
double-barrelled guns and pistols in their girdles. Their
captains wear black masks, and sometimes belong to the small
country gentry. Some days ago the gens-d’armes had a skirmish
with them, and some were killed; two robbers, however, were
caught, and shot, with all the honors, in Ketskemet. We don’t
hear of such things in our tiresome districts. About the time
you woke this morning, you little thought that I was flying
over the steppes of Cumania, in the neighborhood of Felegyhaza
and Csonygrad, with Hildebrand at full gallop, a delightful
sunburnt Uhlan officer by my side, loaded pistols lying in the
hay before us, and a squadron of Uhlans with ready carbines in
their hands wildly dashing after us. Three swift horses drew
us, called Rosa, Csillak (star), and Betyar (vagabond). The
driver unintermittingly called them by name, in a piteous tone,
until he got his whip handle well over their heads, and with
a cry of “_mega! mega!_” (hold on!) the gallop changed into a
wild career. A delightful sensation! We saw no robbers; as my
light-brown lieutenant told me, they knew before daylight that
I was travelling under protection; certainly some of them were
among those worthy-looking and dignified peasants who gazed
seriously at us at the stations, in their sleeveless sheepskin
cloaks reaching to the ground, and greeted us with an honorable
“_istem adiamek_” (praised be God!) The sun’s heat was
scorching all day—I am as red as a crab in the face. We made
eighteen miles in twelve hours, to which must be reckoned two
or three hours, if not more, in putting-to and waiting, as the
twelve horses I required had first to be caught for myself and
escort. A third of the distance was shifting sands and downs,
like those of Stolpmünde.
At five I reached this place, the streets of which are animated
by a gay crowd of Hungarians, Slowaks, and Wallachians,
who fill my chamber with a din of the wildest and maddest
gypsy melodies. (Szolnok is a village of some six thousand
inhabitants, but there is a railway and steamboat station on
the Theiss.) At times they sing through the nose, with gaping
mouths, in a weak minor discord, histories of black eyes, and
of the brave death of some robber, in sounds that remind one
of the wind howling Lettish songs down a chimney. The women
are generally well grown, a few remarkably handsome; they all
have raven hair, bound in tresses behind with red ribbons. The
married women wear either bright green and red cloths, or red
velvet caps on their heads; about their shoulders and bosoms
a handsome yellow silk shawl; black or pure blue short gowns,
and red Turkey leather shoes, reaching up under the petticoats.
Their faces have a yellowish brown hue, with lustrous black
eyes; a group of these women present a play of colors that
would please you; every color is as distinctly expressed as
possible. Since my arrival at five I have been swimming in the
Theiss, while expecting dinner. I have seen Csardas danced; it
vexes me that I can not draw, to bring these fairy-tale forms
on paper for you. I then had _paprika_, _stürl_ (fish), and
_tick_ for dinner, drank a good deal of Hungarian, and now
shall go to bed, if the gypsy music will let me sleep. Good
night. _Istem adiamek._
* * * * *
Pesth, the 28th.
Again I see the mountains of Ofen, this time from the Pesth
side, from below. From the plains I have just left, the dim
outlines of blue Carpathian ridges, distant some twelve or
fifteen miles, are in some places, when the air is very clear,
barely distinguishable. To the south and east the plain was
fathomless; in the first direction it stretches far away into
Turkey, in the second towards Siebenbürgen. The heat to-day
was again scorching, and has peeled all the skin from my face.
A heat-storm is now raging, driving so fiercely over the
steppes that the houses tremble. I swam in the Danube, saw the
magnificent suspension bridge from beneath, paid visits, heard
very good gypsy music on the parade, and shall soon go to bed.
The parts on the edge of the Pusta, where it is beginning to
be cultivated, remind me of Pomerania, in the neighborhoods of
Rommelow, Romahn, and Coseger. The gypsies have grayish-black
complexions. Their costume is fabulous; the children quite
naked, except a string of glass pearls about their necks.
Two women had handsome, regular features, and were cleaner
and more ornamented than the men. When the Hungarians want
a dance over again, they shout in a surprised tone, “_Hody
wol? Hody?_” (“What was it? What?”), and look at each other
interrogatively, as if they had not understood, although they
know the music by heart. It is, indeed, a singular people, but
pleases me very well. It was just as well I had the escort of
Uhlans. At about the same time I left Ketskemet for the south,
sixty-three wagons went off in a northerly direction towards
Körös. Two hours later they were stopped and plundered. A
colonel, who was by accident driving before this wagon-train,
had some shots sent after him, as he would not halt. One
horse was shot through the neck, but not enough to bring it
down, and as he returned the fire, with his two servants,
flying at full gallop, they preferred to be satisfied with
the other travellers. They did no other harm to any one, and
only plundered some individuals, or rather ransomed them, for
they do not take all a person has, but only in proportion to
property, and according to their own needs; for instance, they
will quietly receive forty florins out of a thousand, without
touching the remainder. Thieves with whom one can talk!
* * * * *
Vienna, the 30th.
Here I am again at the “Roman Emperor.” While you were looking
from the Castle of Coblenz on the Rhine in attendance on our
King and Lord, I was looking from the Castle of Ofen upon the
Danube, and had an after-dinner conversation with the young
Emperor upon the Prussian military system; and, oddly enough,
on the same afternoon on which you visited Ehrenbreitstein
and Stolzenfels, I took a drive through the Citadel above the
palace, and into the forest district of Ofen. The view from
the first is admirable. It reminds one of Prague, only there
is more background and distance, therefore rather resembles
Ehrenbreitstein, and the Danube is grander than the Moldau. I
reached here last night, per the Pesth train, about half-past
six.
Bismarck, as usual, was invited to the royal hunting-party in the autumn,
as we perceive by the following letter to his wife:—
Blankenburg, 1st Nov., 1852.
A very unusual early rising, caused by the circumstance that my
room is a passage for some Court servants still asleep, gives
me time for these lines. Our Queen is also here, and is just
being awakened by soft music of horns. I have not had such
good sport in Letzlingen this time as three years ago; it was
on Friday. Only three stags, _voilà tout_; one of them I hope
will reach you. Eat the wild boar devoutly, and pickle some of
it. His Majesty shot it with his own gracious hand. Otherwise,
things went off very well; and, as I found N. N. there, I need
not go to Berlin, and hope to reach you by the evening after
to-morrow, of which please inform ——, as well as that his
appointment for Berlin at our Court may be regarded as certain.
B.
The band is still playing very well from the Freischütz,—“_Ob
auch die Wolke sie verhülle_” (If the cloud still doth surround
her); very apt in this doubtful weather.
In the following year he received many visits from the Duke of
Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Augustenburg, for whom he was engaged
at the time, at the instance of the King’s Government, in obtaining a
pecuniary settlement of the Duke’s claims with Denmark. Bismarck was
able, with great difficulty, to extract from very unwilling Denmark
a handsome compensation. At this the Duke was so rejoiced, that he
devoted himself and followers, with the entire gratitude of the House of
Augustenburg, to the policy of Bismarck, as is well known.
In the summer of 1853 Bismarck first visited Ostend and Holland, then
Westphalia and Nordeney. He then had a mission to Hanover, of which he
rendered an account at Potsdam. In the autumn he spent a considerable
time with his family in Switzerland, at Villeneuve, on the Lake of
Geneva, and thence visited Upper Italy, especially Aosta and Genoa. In
October he was summoned to Potsdam by His Majesty the King; was present
at the hunting-parties of Letzlingen, and then returned for the winter to
Frankfurt; some time, however, he spent in Berlin.
During the summer trip, which Bismarck made alone, he wrote the following
letters to his wife:—
Ostend, 19th August, 1853.
Up to the present time, besides the one of to day, I have taken
three baths, with which I have been well pleased; there is a
strong sea and soft bottom. Most people bathe close under the
pier forming the parade, ladies and gentlemen all together; the
first in very unbecoming long gowns of dark woollen, the last
in a tricot, being jacket and trowsers in one piece, so that
the arms above and the legs beneath are almost free. Only the
consciousness of possessing a perfectly well-proportioned form
can allow one of us to produce himself in ladies’ society thus.
* * * * *
Brussels, 21st August, 1853.
I have left Ostend with sorrow, and really wish myself back
again: I found an old sweetheart of mine there, and as
unchanged and charming as on our first acquaintance. I really
feel the sorrow of separation deeply at this moment, and look
forward impatiently to the instant when I shall cast myself
on her heaving bosom at Nordeney. I can hardly understand why
people can not always live by the sea, and why I have been
cajoled into passing two days in this parallelogrammatic stone
heap, to see bull-fights, Waterloo, and pompous processions. If
I had not to keep that most unlucky appointment with N. N., I
should stay several weeks longer in Ostend, and give N. N. up.
I shall only remain till noon to-morrow, and then start, or
early the next morning, for Antwerp, Rotterdam, and Amsterdam;
thence by steamer to Harlingen, and through Friesland to
Nordeney. I am afraid N. N. will soon disturb me there, and if
I once get to Bremen with him, I hardly know whether I ever
shall accomplish the tiresome journey to N. again, but shall
make my way by Hanover, Hamm, Kassel, and Frankfurt to the
place you inhabit. If you write to me, direct to Nordeney.
* * * * *
Amsterdam, 24th August, 1853.
In Brussels and Antwerp I have never had a quiet minute on
account of feasts and sight-seeing. I have passed a detestable
night on a camp-stool, in a crowded boat from Antwerp, starting
at one in the morning. By an angular labyrinth of arms of the
Scheldt and Maas, and the Rhine, I reached Rotterdam early,
about eleven, and about four arrived here. That is a singular
town: many streets are like Venice, some with water right up
to the walls, others like canals with a towing path, and with
narrow walks planted with limes before the houses. The latter
have fantastic gables, strange and smoky, almost ghostly—the
chimneys like men standing on their heads and stretching
out their legs. That which does not savor of Venice is the
busy life, and the massive handsome shops—one window close
to the other, and more magnificently than I remember those
of Paris or London. When I listen to the bells, and, with a
long clay pipe in my mouth, look through the forest of masts,
across the canals into the twilight towards the romantically
confused gables and chimneys, all the Dutch ghost stories of
my childhood come back to me, of Dolph Heylinger, and Rip van
Winkle, and the Flying Dutchman. To-morrow morning I go by
steamer to Harlingen on the Zuyder Zee, and to-morrow evening I
hope to be in Nordeney, the farthest point from you I propose
to touch; and then the time will not be far off when I hope
to encounter you unexpectedly on a glacier. I have nothing
from Berlin since I left Ostend, and therefore conclude that
the storms are all laid, and the waters returned into the old
bed—the pleasantest event that could happen for us. I am very
glad I have seen Holland; from Rotterdam to this place there is
one continual verdant and level meadow, upon which there are
many bushes, much grazing cattle, and some old cities cut out
of picture-books; no arable land anywhere.
* * * * *
Norderney, 27th Aug., 1853.
Last evening I arrived here on a stout Dutch sloop, amidst
thunder, lightning, and rain—have, after an abstinence of
a week, taken another glorious sea-bath, and sitting in a
fishing hut with a feeling of great loneliness and longing for
you—partly heightened by the clamor of mine host’s children,
partly by the piping scream of the storm against the roof and
flagstaff. It is really tiresome here, and that suits me, as I
have a long piece of work to finish. I wrote to you last from
Amsterdam, previously from Brussels. Since then I have seen
a charming little country—West Friesland; quite flat, but so
bushy green, hedgy, every farm-house surrounded by its little
wood, that one seems to envy the peaceful independence reigning
there. —— will probably ascribe this satisfaction to the
circumstance that, as at Linz and Gmunden, all the girls are
pictures of beauty, only taller and more slender, fair, colors
like milk and roses, and a very becoming helmet-like golden
head-dress.
In the spring of 1854 we find Bismarck at Potsdam, in the summer at
Munich and Stuttgart. On the 28th of June he wrote to his sister from
Frankfurt, thus:
I should have liked under all circumstances to have brought
you my good wishes in person, particularly as I know my roving
wife is with you. But unfortunately we seem too important to
ourselves here, to deprive confused Europe of the light of our
wisdom. Whoever speaks of holidays now is regarded as a traitor
to the world-important problem of the Germanic Confederation. I
long deeply for the country, the forest and laziness, with the
_obligato_ addition of affectionate wives and well-conducted
clean children. If I hear one of these hopefuls crying in
the street, my heart is filled with parental feelings and
educational maxims. How do our descendants agree, and are mine
good? I have been obliged to write these few lines at three
intervals, because N. N. and N. N. East and West disturbed me
during the time, and Z. is just announced: he won’t go for
an hour, so I say farewell. I want to go fishing with the
Englishman to-day, but it rains too much, so instead I am a
victim of visitors. Farewell, and live long. Your faithful
brother.
Bismarck then accompanied the King, who grew continually more attached to
him, to the island of Rügen; by Pomerania, Berlin, and Baden he returned
to Frankfurt.
During the summer of 1855 he visited the Exhibition at Paris, residing
with the Prussian Ambassador, Count Hatzfeld, and was introduced to
the Emperor of the French. Afterwards he went to Stuttgart and Munich,
and then visited the King and Queen at Stolzenfels. The year 1856 was
comparatively quiet, and he passed his summer at Stolpmünde.
Reinfeld, in Pomerania, 11th Sept., 1856.
The Diet will, I think, in November, devote its sessions to
the Holstein question with greater good-will than results.
Outwardly all the governments will appear united in this
matter. Austria will, however, secretly remain an adherent of
the Danes; its press will teem with German phrases, and Prussia
will be saddled with the error of inaction. The centre of
gravity of the affair actually does not lie at Frankfurt, but
in the question whether Denmark is secure from the assaults
of one or more of the extra German States. If she be, then
she will look upon the decision of the Diet as a sufficient
settlement.
From Courland Bismarck returned to Berlin and Potsdam, and thence went
to Baden; afterwards he was at Hohendorf in East Prussia, and Reinfeld
in Pomerania. These were certainly years of apprenticeship, but still
more years of journey. In the following years he was frequently summoned
to the Prince of Prussia in Baden-Baden; he then went to Stolpmünde,
and remained in Berlin throughout October and November. During these
years the following letters were written to Frau von Arnim, the two
last containing some notices of the Ministry of the so-called “new
era”—Bismarck speaking in a very intelligible way as to his own position.
BISMARCK TO FRAU VON ARNIM.
Reinfeld, 15th October, 1856.
It looks as if I never was to reach Kröchlendorf. Harry will no
doubt have told you how I intended to do so. I should already
have been with you, but last week my poor little Marie was
seized with some kind of chicken-pox, and so I could not well
leave Johanna until the symptoms were declared. She is still
as variegated as a trout, but decidedly better. I wanted to
set off to-day for Passow direct, but yesterday had a letter
from ——, by which he lets me know that he wants to see me by
the 18th at ——. As a diplomatist I can not refuse to meet
our trustiest companion, and one of the Olympian deities of
our Frankfurt Pantheon. If I receive no letter from Berlin
in between, I hope to rest in your sororal arms by the 19th.
Should I be able to get away from —— on the evening of the
18th, I shall leave by the early train from Stettin. If I
can not do this, I still hope to reach Stettin by the twelve
o’clock train, if the postillions can be got to a trot. But do
not wait dinner for me.
* * * * *
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Frankfurt, 26th Nov., 1856.
Bernhard will have told you by what unexpected chain of
infantine disease and royal mandates I have been deranged in
my chronological calculations, and how ——, who has claims
upon my ideas of the service, also abridged my lecture, so
that it happened, a few hours before we were about to set out
for Kröchlendorf, all together, that I had to announce to the
male as well as the female Bernhard that I could only escort
them as far as Passow. At that frontier of the Uckermark I
met ——, and in Angermünde we were joined by ——, so that I was
gradually prepared, by ministerial conferences and three hours
of smokelessness, for my Berlin strait-waistcoat. It seemed as
if I was never to get to Kröchlendorf. I had plenty of time and
desire to do so, after the terminations of the Berlin marriage
festivities, and only after a conference with —— did I decide
first to go to Reinfeld, and on my return, to you, in order to
stop a week with him there; because he only got his holiday in
October, and our arrangement was that I should come hither
with him about the 15th, and return to Berlin about the 22d.
On the 11th my child was taken ill, at first severely; then
I had to attend to official parade. Then I was summoned to
his Majesty at Berlin, where, on the 25th of October, I found
myself early enough. And now I am here, have only seen the sun
twice in the last month, and every day I say to myself that it
is impossible in November to live without wife and children.
From sheer ennui I give dinner parties. In the evening one
rout succeeds another, and I shall soon begin to gamble if
Johanna and the children do not occupy this vacuum. She thought
of starting from Reinfeld on Saturday the 22d, but on the
20th wrote me a plaintive letter about cold and snow, which
I received on the 23d. Since then I have no idea whether she
is on the other side of the Gollenberg or this side of the
Randow. I begged her generally to inform you of her confinement
in Berlin beforehand, and to let you know from Cöslin by
telegraph when she would actually arrive there. The last time
I lived in —— very fairly, but it appeared to me this youthful
undertaking must either not have taken place, or already been
“over.” If Johanna should by accident be in Berlin, greet her
from me. Perhaps I shall get there by Saturday. I am summoned
to the Upper Chamber, but the contents do not assure me whether
His Majesty wishes me to be there myself personally, or only
desires to see his most humble servant en bloc. In the latter
case, I should not consider myself called to leave my important
business, and the stove in the red study, to sit up to the
neck in snow at Halle, and next heighten the effect of the
White Saloon by a flying costume under the rubric of “People,
nobility, detectives, and priests.” I expect an answer from
Berlin about this, as to whether I am wanted as an ornament or
a coadjutor. In the latter case I should reach Berlin early on
Saturday. I should be very glad on that occasion to see you,
as some recompense for Kröchlendorf; otherwise, I am glad to
remain away from Berlin, and receive my own folks here.
* * * * *
TO FRAU VON ARNIM.
Frankfurt (without date.)
While I was forced to hear an almost incredibly long speech by
a highly esteemed colleague on the anarchical condition of
things in Upper Lippe, I thought how I could use the time,
and the most prominent want of my heart seemed to be a desire
to pour forth fraternal feelings. A very highly respectable
but slightly amusing company surrounds me, at a green-covered
circular table, some twenty feet in diameter, in the ground
floor of the Prince of Tour and Taxis’s palace, with a view of
the garden. The average appearance of these folks is somewhat
that of N. N. and Z. in Berlin—they have quite a Federal Diet
cut!
I go out shooting pretty regularly, when a single individual
shoots some six to fifteen hares and a few pheasants—very
seldom a roe or a fox—and a head of red deer is sometimes seen
in the far distance. Time for this I have been able to spare
from being far more lazy, as my industry in Berlin led to no
results.
N. N. is by no means as charming as he used to be; he listens
to all kinds of lying stories, and allows himself to be
persuaded that I am anxious for his heritage, although I am
glad to be left where I am. I am getting accustomed, in the
consciousness of yawning innocence, to submit to all symptoms
of coldness, and permit a spirit of entire indolence to possess
me, after having, I flatter myself, gradually brought the Diet
to a knowledge of its piercing nihilism. The well-known song
of Heine, “_O Bund, du Hund, du bist nicht gesund_” (O Diet,
you dog, you are not well), will soon be unanimously adopted by
resolution as the national anthem of the Germans.
Nobody troubles themselves about the East here. The Russians
or the Turks may put what they like in the newspapers; nobody
believes either in land or sea fights, and doubts the existence
of Sinope, Kalafat, and Schefketel.
Darmstadt has at last stopped reading—and I fall, full of
emotion, into your arms, and wish you a pleasant feast. Many
greetings to Oscar. Your faithful brother,
B.
* * * * *
TO THE SAME.
From Paris, Hotel de Douvres, April, 1857.
I have five stoves, and am freezing—five clocks, and never know
how late it is—eleven great looking-glasses, and my necktie is
always awry. I shall probably have to remain here until Tuesday
evening, although I am anxious to be at home. Since November
I have not emerged from this Bohemianism—since November, and
I have not had a sensation of regular and lasting domesticity
since you went last summer with Johanna to Schwalbach. Now
they want to summon me to Berlin about the salt tax; if I had
the time, I could not take part in this debate. I can not,
according to my conviction, vote for the Government; but, if I
vote for the Opposition, it is hardly proper to ask for leave
of absence on such an account; and, considering the rumors as
to my eventual entry into the Ministry, of which Johanna, on
account of your statements, writes despairingly, one could
think I had some ideas of joining in the swindle. Hearty
greetings to Oscar.
B.
In the spring of 1857 we again find Bismarck in Paris, and it was then
that he had his first special political conference with the Emperor
Napoleon. In the summer he made a journey to the North—went to Denmark
and Sweden, ending by field-sports in Courland; on his return he found
his family at Stolpmünde.
While on this journey he wrote the following letter to his wife:—
Copenhagen, 6th August, 1857.
This morning at seven I safely arrived here, after a very
pleasant passage; mild air, a red moon, the chalk cliffs
lighted by tar-barrels; two storms at sea, and a little wind;
what more can one want? The night prevented my sleeping, and
when the rain drove me from the deck about two o’clock, it was
so hot and reeking of humanity below, that about three I went
on deck with cloak and cigar. I have now taken a sea-bath,
eaten some lobster, and about half-past one I must attend at
the Court—so now I will sleep a couple of hours.
* * * * *
Räsbyholm, 9th August, 1857.
You will have already received the few lines I wrote directly
I reached Copenhagen. Since then I have been occupied for two
days with museums and politics, yesterday was ferried over to
Malmö, and driven some eight miles to the north-eastward, and
am at the above-named place, in a white castle situated very
high on a peninsula surrounded by a large lake. Through the
window and the thicket of ivy, that admit of some view of the
water and hills beyond, I perceive that the sun is shining and
flies are buzzing. Behind me sits ——; he is reading and dozing;
broad Swedish is spoken under the window, and from the kitchen
I can hear a pestle grinding away like a saw. That is all I can
tell you of the present. Yesterday we stalked roebucks, one was
killed, but I did not shoot; we got thoroughly drenched; then
we took hot wine, and slept soundly for nine hours. Roebucks
are more plentiful than I have ever seen anywhere, and the
neighborhood is prettier than I thought. Magnificent beech
forests, and walnut-trees the size of a man’s body, in the
garden. We have just visited the pheasantry; after dinner we
are going on the lake, and may perhaps shoot a duck, unless
we fear to disturb the Sunday rest of this lovely solitude
by a shot; to-morrow we are to have a regular day, next day
we return to Copenhagen, and from there to N. N., and a
stag-hunt on Wednesday; Thursday by Copenhagen to Helsingborg,
some twenty miles into Sweden. We shall seek woodcocks and
moorfowl in the wilderness; we shall lodge in farm-houses; our
provisions we take with us. This will last for about a week,
and then I hardly know what I shall do; either proceed by
way of Jönkeping, at the south end of Lake Wetter, and so to
Stockholm, or by Götheborg and Lake Wener, or to Christiania,
abandoning Stockholm, or perhaps _viâ_ Memel to Courland. This
depends on a letter I expect from —— in Copenhagen.
* * * * *
Tomsjönas, 16th Aug., 1857.
I again employ the quiet of Sunday to give you some sign of
life, although I do not yet know on what day we shall find an
opportunity of reaching the post from this wilderness. For
some fifteen miles have I driven into the depths of the woods
to reach this place, and before me lie some twenty-five miles
ere we shall get to cultivated provinces. There is no town, no
village, far or near—only isolated settlers and plank-huts,
with a little barley and potatoes, strewn irregularly between
dead trees, rocks, and thickets, over a few rods of ploughed
land. Think of the wildest region near Viartlum,[42] for some
hundred of square miles, tall heather, varied by short grass
and moorland, beset with birch, juniper, pines, beech, oaks,
and alders, sometimes impassably thick and sometimes very
sparse, the whole sown with innumerable stones to the size of
houses, smelling of wild rosemary and firs; and between them
strangely formed lakes, surrounded by sand and forest—and you
will see Smaland; where I now am. Really the land of my dreams,
not to be reached by dispatches, colleagues, and N. N., but
unhappily also for you; I should like to have a hunting-box
on one of these quiet lakes, and people it for a few months
with all the dear ones I now fancy are assembled at Reinfeld.
It would be impossible to winter it out here, particularly
amidst the dirt of the rain. Yesterday we started about five,
and hunted in the burning heat, up hill and down dale, through
bog and bush, until eleven; but found nothing at all. It is
very tiring to walk through moors and impassable thickets
of juniper, over great stones and underwood. We slept in a
hay barn till two, drank a great deal of milk, and continued
the chase till sunset, killing twenty-five woodcocks and two
snipes. We then dined at the lodge—a wonderful structure of
wood—on a peninsula by the lake. My room, with its three
stools, two tables, and bedstead, presents the same uniform
tint of rough pine planks, as does the whole house and its
walls. The bed is very hard, but after all this exertion one
sleeps without rocking. From my window I see a knoll with
birch-trees, whose branches rustle in the breeze; between these
the mirror of the lake, and beyond it fir forests. Beside the
house is a tent for huntsman, driver, servants, and peasants;
then the carriage-house and a little dog of a village of some
eighteen or twenty huts, on both sides of a little street, and
from each of these a tired beater is looking out. I propose to
remain in this oasis till Wednesday or Thursday, then leave for
another expedition on the shore, and return this day week to
Copenhagen, on account of miserable politics. What next, I do
not know as yet.
_The 17th._—This morning early six wolves have been here and
have torn up a poor bullock; we found their fresh traces,
but personally we did not see them. From four in the morning
till eight in the evening we have been in motion, have shot
four woodcocks, slept for two hours on mown heather, and now,
dog-tired, to bed.
_The 19th._—It is impossible to send a letter to the post
from here, without sending a messenger twelve miles; I shall
therefore take this to the coast myself to-morrow. Yesterday,
when the dog pointed, and I was looking more at him than at
the ground I was treading on, I fell and hurt my left shin.
Yesterday we had a very tired day’s sport, long and rocky; it
produced me a woodcock; but has tamed me so completely, that
to-day I am sitting at home with bandages, so that I should
be ready to travel to-morrow and shoot the next day. I really
am astonished at myself for stopping at home alone in such
charming weather, and can scarcely refrain from the abominable
wish that the others will shoot nothing. It is a little too
late in the year, the birds are shy, or sport would be more
plentiful. We shot through a charming place yesterday; great
lakes, with islands and shores, mountain torrents, over rocks,
plains for miles without houses or plough-land; every thing
just as God created it, forest, field, heath, morass, and lake.
I shall certainly return hither some day.
Two gentlemen of the Danish Chambers are already back; it was
too hot for them, and they have gone to sleep. It is about
half-past five; the others will only arrive about eight. I
have been amusing myself all day in learning Danish from the
doctor who applied the bandages. We brought him with us from
Copenhagen, for there are no doctors here. Since a report
has been spread of the presence of a physician in the woods,
every day some twenty or thirty inhabitants of the huts come
streaming in to take his advice. On Sunday evening we gave a
very amusing dance to the inhabitants of the five square miles
of forest; the music was played and sung by turns. Then they
heard of the “wise man,” and now cripples of twenty years’
standing come and hope to be cured by him.
* * * * *
Königsberg, 12th Sept., 1857.
I found to my great joy your four letters at Polangen (which,
by-the-by, is not in Prussia but Russia), and find from them
that you and the children are well. I got on very well; the
Courlanders were all touchingly kind to me, in a way seldom
found by a foreigner. Besides several roebucks and stags, I
shot five elks, one a very fine stag, measuring roughly six
feet eight, without his colossal head. He fell like a hare, but
as he was still alive, I mercifully gave him my second barrel;
scarcely had I done so ere a second came up, still taller,
so close to me that Engel, my loader, had to jump behind a
tree to avoid being run over. I was obliged to look at him
in a friendly way, as I had no other shot. I can not get rid
of this disappointment, and must complain to you about it. I
shot at another—no doubt he will be found—but one I missed
entirely. I might, therefore, have killed three more. The
night before last we left Dondangen, and in twenty-nine hours
made forty miles without a road, through the forest and desert
to Memel, in an open carriage, over stock and stone; we were
obliged to hold on, so that we should not be thrown out. After
three hours’ sleep at Memel, we started this morning in the
steamboat for this place, whence we leave for Berlin to-night
and arrive to-morrow. “We” means Behr and myself. I can not
stop in Hohendorf; I ought to have been in Berlin to-morrow, my
furlough being up. I should, however, have been obliged to give
up my best sport at Dondangen, with the enormous stags, or, as
they call them there, _bolls_; nor should I have seen how the
axle of a great wagon broke under the enormous creature. On
Monday the Emperor arrives at Berlin, therefore I am obliged to
be there “some days” before. I hope to return from Berlin to
Hohendorf and Reinfeld; but if the King goes to Frankfurt, this
is unlikely.
* * * * *
Frankfurt, 19th December, 1857.
Your true sisterly heart has offered in so friendly a manner
to look after Christmas exigencies, that I will not apologize
if I now allow you to carry out the seductions of Gerson and
other rascals once more, and ask you _sans phrase_ to make the
following purchases for Johanna:—
1. Jewelry: she wishes to have an opal heart, like yours, and
“the mind of man his kingdom is.” I am willing to pay some two
hundred _thalers_ for it. If for that price it is possible
to obtain a pair of earrings, each consisting of one clear
brilliant, I should think it more tasteful. You have some like
it, but they are much dearer, and should you think the opal
heart preferable, I will try later to find a pair of fitting
earrings founded upon pearls.
2. One dress, at about one hundred _thalers_—not more. She
wants to see herself “very light and bright,” _à deux passes,
moirée antique_, or something of that kind: she requires ten
_rods_—about twenty ells.
3. Should you discover a valuable and pretty gilt fan, rustling
a great deal, buy it also. Ten _thalers_ are quite enough. I
can’t bear the things.
4. A large warm rug to lay over the feet in the carriage, with
designs of tigers, glass eyes in their heads; might be a fox or
a hippopotamus—any ferocious animal. I have seen one at ——’s,
of very soft wool; won’t cost ten _thalers_. If you want to
remain a charming sister, buy me all this, and send at once by
_express luggage train_; address, Hofrath ——, Prussian Embassy.
I have so much to write about Holstein, Mainz, the bridge of
Kehl, and all sorts of things in Berlin, that I have been
obliged to decline two capital days of sport, to-day and
to-morrow, after red deer. Johanna and the children are well,
and the former would send love if she knew I wrote; but do not
let her know any thing about it, my heart, and so farewell.
Greetings to Oscar. The money I will send through Fritz, the
receiver, by the new year.
* * * * *
Frankfurt o. t. M., 2d April, 1858.
I quite agree with you that our position in the Zollverein
is blundered. I go further than this, being firmly convinced
that we must give notice to the whole of the Zollverein, as
soon as the term has arrived. The reasons for this conviction
are far too stratified to be developed here, and they are too
closely connected to be named one by one. We must terminate the
treaty in view of the danger of remaining alone with Dessau
and Sondershausen. It is, however, not to be _desired_ that
this last should be the case, or that such a state of things
should long subsist; therefore we must render it agreeable—if
possible, an unavoidable necessity—to the other states of the
Zollverein, during the period yet to run, that after proper
notice has been given they should seek adherence to _our_
conditions. One portion of this system would be to allow them
to draw higher nett revenues than they could obtain by frontier
customs without Prussia. Another thing is, that they must not
be allowed to think that the continuance of a Zollverein with
Prussia is impossible in fact; this would, however, be the
case if, besides the twenty-eight governments, some fifty class
corporations, guided by particular interests, should be able
to exercise a _liberum veto_. If the Prussian Chambers begin
with this, the equality vertigo of the German governments will
not allow the rest to remain behind; they will desire to make
themselves also of importance.
In order to avoid these rocks in a Zollverein to be
reconstituted by Prussia, after 1865, for the exercise of
corporation electoral rights, I think we shall have to adopt
one feature of the Union project of 1849, and erect a sort
of Customs Parliament, with conditions for _itio in partes_,
if the others demand it. The Governments will object gravely
to such a course; but if we are daring and consequent we
could effect much. The idea expressed in your letter, to make
the Prussian Chambers a means, by their representation of
all German taxpayers, to found a hegemony, is from the same
point of view. The most powerful aids of our foreign policy
might consist in the Chambers and the Press. In the present
state of things, which may be confirmed by the vote, the
Zollverein policy, the evil of the Verein for Prussia, would
render the necessity for the termination a matter for the most
circumstantial and closest debate, that a recognition of it
should take place; your letter ought to appear as an article
in the _Kreuzzeitung_, instead of lying upon my table here.
The German Custom policy should be broadly and unreservedly
discussed from the Prussian stand-point by the Chambers and the
Press—then the flagging attention of Germany would be drawn
to it, and our Chambers would become a power for Prussia in
Germany. I should like to see the Zollverein and the Bund,
with Prussia’s relations to both, subjected to the scalpel
of the acutest criticism in our Chambers. This would only be
an advantage to the King, his Ministers, and their policy,
presuming them to know their business. At the same time, I
could wish, as the result of such a discussion, that the
proposition should be _adopted_ by a small majority. For the
Zollverein desires at the present moment rather to fetter the
German governments to their flesh-pots, than for them to win
the sympathies of their subjects. The latter are powerless, as,
so far as they are concerned, a powerful, business-like, and
honorable debate would do the same as the chance of the results
of a vote.
* * * * *
Frankfurt, 12th Nov., 1858.
Your letter was an unexpected pleasure: the address looked just
like one of Johanna’s, and I wondered how she could have got to
the Uckermark. I have not been able to answer before: business,
a cold, hunting, has partly taken up all my time, nor did I
quite know what to write to you about the new phenomenon in the
political heaven, that I could not have written as well about
the comet—an interesting phenomenon wholly unexpected by me,
the object and nature of which is yet unknown to me. The orbit
of the comet our astronomers are pretty well able to calculate,
but it would be difficult for them to do the same by this new
political septasterism. Johanna reached here safely with the
children this morning; God be praised, they are well, but not
in good spirits. She is upset by all the political terrors
they have filled her with in Pomerania and Berlin, and I try
in vain to render her more light-hearted. The natural distress
of the lady of a house also influences her, when it becomes
doubtful whether one remains in a new house set up with care
and expense. She came hither with the idea that I was about to
take my leave. I do not know whether my resignation will be
forced on me without my own will, or whether I must seek it for
decency’s sake. Before I do it voluntarily, I shall wait to see
what the ministerial colors are.
If the Upper Chamber retain their feelings for the conservative
party, and sincerely strive for a good understanding and peace
_at home_, they may rely upon a healthy state in our _foreign_
affairs, and that is of great importance to me, for “we had
fallen, and did not know how.” That is what I especially felt.
I think that the Prince has been especially placed at the head
to secure a guarantee against party government, and against
any concessions to the Left. If I am mistaken in this, or if
they wish to dispose of me as an office-seeker, I shall retire
behind the cannon of Schönhausen, and observe how Prussia can
be governed by majorities of the Left, and also endeavor to
do my duty to the Upper Chamber. Change is the soul of life,
and I shall feel myself ten years younger if I find myself in
the same attitude as in 1848-’9. Should I not find the parts
of gentleman and diplomatist consistent, the pleasure or the
burden of fulfilling a prominent position will not cause me
to err for a moment in my choice. I have enough to live upon
according to my wants, and if God keeps my wife and children
healthy, as they have been, I say, “_vogue la galère_,” no
matter what water we swim in. It will be very unimportant to
_me_, after thirty years, whether I play the diplomatist or the
country Junker; and hitherto the prospect of an honest contest,
without being confined by any official trammels—particularly
in political swimming-baths—has almost as much charm for me
as the prospect of a _régime_ of truffles, dispatches, and
grand crosses. “After nine, all is over,” says the player. I
can not tell you more than these personal opinions—the enigma
stands before me unsolved. I have one great satisfaction here
at the Diet. All those gentlemen who six months ago demanded
my recall as a necessity for German unity, now tremble at the
thought of losing me. To —— the phantom of 1848 is a terror;
and they are all like pigeons who see the hawk—afraid of
democracy, barricades, Parliament, and ... —— sinks into my
arms touchingly, and says, with a cramped shake of the hand,
“We are again forced into _one_ field.” The French naturally,
but the English also, look upon us as firebrands, and the
Russians fear that the Emperor will be led astray by our plans
of reform. I say to every one naturally, “Only be calm, and all
will come right;” and they answer, “Yes, if you were going to
stay, then we should have a guarantee, but ...” If he doesn’t
feel Frankfurt singing in his ears, he has no ear-drums. In a
week he has been degraded from a worthy liberal conservative
in the imaginations of his eventual colleagues, to a scarlet
tiger—helper’s helper of Kinkel and D’Ester. The Bamberg
diplomatist talks of a continental assurance against Prussian
firebrandism, growls of a tri-Imperial alliance against us—a
new Olmütz with effectual operations. In short, the political
world is getting less tiresome. My children cry, “Pietsch
comes!” in the joy at my having a servant of that name at
Schönhausen; and it would seem that the arrival of this Pietsch
and the comet are not without significance. Heartily farewell,
my very dear one, and greet Oscar. He must not hang down his
head—it’s all gammon.
* * * * *
Frankfurt, 10th Dec., 1858.
You had rightly guessed in your letter to Johanna, that
your kindness would be asked for a Christmas commission. I
should like to give Johanna a bracelet. The kind of thing
flitting before me is broad, smooth, mailed, bending, made of
chessboard-patterned little four-cornered gold pieces—_without_
jewels—pure gold, as far as two hundred _thalers_ will go.
If you find something that pleases you better, I have every
confidence in your taste. The exact thing in the fashion is
not, _therefore_, pleasing to me—such things last longer
than the fashion. Be so good, and have it directed to “Privy
Councillor ——, Prussian Embassy,” with an inclosed letter for
_me_, or the old gentleman may think it a delicate attention
for _himself_.
Johanna will have written you as to the child complaints we
have had, and how I have suffered from colds and coughs. I
do not know whether much or little sleep, diet or excess,
housekeeping or hunting, improves or hurts, but I turn from
one to the other, from ideas of health. As to my transfer or
recall, all is still again; for a time, Petersburg seemed very
certain, and I had grown so accustomed to the idea, that I
felt quite disappointed when the rumor went forth that I was
to remain here. There will be some bad political weather here,
which I should be very glad to weather out in bear-furs, with
caviar and elk-shooting. Our new Cabinet is still looked upon
abroad with suspicion; Austria alone, with cunning calculation,
gives it a meed of praise; while ——, behind his hand, warns
us; and so do his colleagues, at all the courts. The cat won’t
let the mice alone. But, in the end, the ministers must show a
policy; merely cursing the Kreuzzeitung will not last forever.
I shall hardly come to Berlin in the winter; it would be very
agreeable if you would visit us here before I am “put out in
the cold” on the Neva.
* * * * *
St. Petersburg, 12th May, 1859.
I have become convinced, by the experience of the eight years
of my official life in Frankfurt, that the settlement by the
Diet, made in those days, forms a pressing, and, in critical
times, a vitally dangerous fetter for Prussia, without giving,
in return, such equivalents, enjoyed by Austria, under an
unequally large mass of free self-action. The two greater
Powers do not attain an equal measurement from the Princes
and Governments of the smaller States; the construction of
the object and the law of the Diet is modified according to
the requirements of Austrian policy. I need not, considering
your knowledge, enter upon more circumstantial arguments
respecting the history of the policy of the Diet since 1850,
and hence confine myself by naming the paragraphs concerning
the restoration of the Diet, the question of the German Navy,
Customs disputes, the laws respecting commerce, the press, and
the Constitution, the Diet fortresses of Rastatt and Mainz, and
the questions of Neuenburg and the East. _We have always found
ourselves face to face with the same compact majority, with
the same demand for concessions from Prussia._ In the Eastern
question, the power of Austria has ever proved so superior to
ours, that even the identity of the wishes and aspirations
of the Diet governments, with the efforts of Prussia, have
presented for her an ever-receding obstacle. With scarcely
any exception, our associates in the Diet have given us to
understand, or have even openly declared, that they were
unable to maintain the Diet with us, should Austria pursue her
own course; although it is unquestionable that federal law
and real German interests were side by side with our peace
policy; this, at least, was then the opinion of almost all
the Princes. Would the latter have ever brought their own
interests and wishes as a sacrifice to the wants, or even
the safety, of Prussia? Certainly not: for their attachment
to Austria is founded on outbalancing false interests, which
prescribe to both a coalition against Prussia, a repression of
all further development of the influence and power of Prussia,
as a foundation for their common policy. A development of
federal relations, under Austrian leadership, is the natural
end of the policy of the German Princes and their Ministers;
according to their opinions, this can only be accomplished at
the expense of Prussia, and is necessarily directed against
Prussia, so long as Prussia will not confine herself to the
useful problem of providing for her equally entitled associates
in the Diet an assurance against the preponderance of Austria,
and is willing to bear the disproportion of her duties towards
her rights in the Diet, being resigned to the wishes of the
majority with untiring complacency. This tendency of the policy
of the Central States will reappear with the constancy of
the magnetic needle after every evanescent variation, because
it represents no arbitrary product of individual events or
persons, but is, in fact, a natural and necessary result of
federal relations for the smaller States. There are no existing
means by which we can maintain the actual federal treaties in
an intimate manner.
Since our associates in the Diet, some years ago, began,
under the guidance of Austria, to bring to light, from the
hitherto neglected arsenal of the constitution of the Diet, the
principles that would give prominence to their system—since
it has been endeavored, in a partial way, to stifle the
policy of Prussia by propositions which could only possess
one signification in the sense of their proposers, in so far
as they apply to the unanimity of Prussia and Austria—we have
been obliged to endure the stress of the situation that the
Diet and its whole historical development has forced upon us.
We could say to ourselves, that in peaceful and orderly times
we could weaken the evil in its results by skillful treatment,
but we should be powerless to effect a cure; it is only too
natural that in dangerous times, such as the present, the
other side, in possession of all the advantages of the Diet
settlement, should willingly confess that much has taken place
of an improper nature, but should at the same time declare, in
the “general interests,” that the present juncture is highly
inapplicable for the discussion of past matters and “internal”
disputes. But such an opportunity, if we do not make use of it
at once, may not so speedily recur; and in the future we shall
be forced to our normal resignation, which allows of no changes
in the condition of things in orderly times.
His Royal Highness the Prince Regent has taken up a position
commanding the unqualified approval of all those who are
entitled to form any judgment of Prussian politics, and who
thence have not allowed themselves to be disturbed by party
feeling. Some of our associates in the Diet seek to blind us,
by thoughtless and fanatical efforts, as to this attitude. If
the statesmen of Bamberg are so frivolously ready to follow
the first war outcry of an uncritical and mutable public
opinion, if it does not take place probably quite without a
comforting after-thought of the easiness with which a small
state can change its colors in case of need; but if, in order
to send a power like Prussia under fire, they desire to make
use of the treaties of the Diet; if it be supposed that we
shall substitute property and blood for political wisdom, and
the thirst for action on the part of governments, to whom our
defense is absolutely necessary for their existence; if these
States think they are to dictate the guiding impulse, and
regard _theories concerning the rights of the Diet_ as means to
such an end, then _with such recognition all Prussian political
autonomy would be over_; then, in my opinion, it would be time
for us to remember that the guides, who imagine we should
follow them, serve other interests than those of Prussia, and
that they understand the interests of Germany they talk so much
about as non-identical with the interests of Prussia, if we
decline to accede to their desires.
Perhaps I am going too far when I express it as my opinion,
that we should seize every justifiable opportunity, presented
by our associates in the Diet, to arrive at the revision
of our mutual relations, necessary to Prussia, by which
she can exist in defined relations to the smaller German
States. I think we should willingly take up the gauntlet,
and regard it as no misfortune, but as real progress, a
crisis leading to improvement, if a majority at Frankfurt
should decide upon such a vote, which we could look upon as
a transgression of competency, an arbitrary change in the
object of the confederation, a violation of its treaties. _The
more unmistakable this violation the better._ We shall not
easily find conditions of such a favorable nature in Austria,
France, and Russia, by which we can alter our own position
towards Germany for the better. Our allies are on the high
road towards giving us perfectly justifiable motives for such
a course, without our stimulating their insolence. Even the
_Kreuzzeitung_, as I see by the number of last Sunday, is
becoming somewhat startled at the thought that a Frankfurt
majority could immediately dispose of the Prussian army. _Not
in this newspaper alone_ have I hitherto perceived with sorrow
how Austria has established an autocracy over the German press
by the skillfully laid net of her influence, and how well
she knows to use the weapon. Without this, so-called public
opinion could scarcely have risen to this height; I designate
it so-called, for the real mass of the population is never
inclined for war, unless the demonstrable suffering of real
oppression has aroused it. To such a pitch has it risen, that
even under the cloak of general German opinion, any Prussian
newspaper can hardly declare itself in favor of Prussian
patriotism. General Twiddle-twaddle plays a great part in this,
nor must we omit the Zwanzigers (cash) that never fail Austria
for this aim. Most newspaper correspondents write for their
bread and cheese, most newspapers look to their incomes, and
an experienced reader may easily see, by our newspapers and
others, whether they have received, or speedily anticipate, or
wish by threatening pantomime to force, a subsidy from Austria.
I think we should produce an admirable revulsion in public
opinion if we were to sound the chords of independent Prussian
policy in the press, in opposition to the exaggerations of our
German allies. Perhaps things may happen at Frankfurt which may
give us full reason to do so.
Under these circumstances the wisdom of our military
precautions might be extended in other directions, and impart
significance to our attitude; then Prussian self-respect would
speak perhaps with a more conclusive tone than the Diet. _I
should only then care to see the word “German” in place of
“Prussian” inscribed upon our standard, when we should have
become more intimately and effectually bound up with our German
fellow-countrymen than we have hitherto been_; the word loses
its charm in proximity to the ideas of the Diet.
I fear that your Excellency will interrupt me in this
epistolary digression into the field of my former activity,
with the cry, “_Ne sutor ultra crepidam_;” nor was it my
intention to hold an official oration; I desired only to
present the testimony of an experienced person against the
Diet. _I see in our position in the Diet, a defect of Prussia,
which we shall have sooner or later to heal, ferro et igni_,
unless we adopt in time, and at a proper season of the year,
measures for a cure. Were the Confederation abolished this very
day, without substituting something in its place, I believe
that this negative acquisition would soon form better and more
natural relations between Prussia and her German neighbors,
than have hitherto existed.
BISMARCK.
[Illustration: A BALL AT BISMARCK’S.]
TO A PRUSSIAN DIPLOMATIST.
Petersburg, 1st July, 1859.
I thank you for your letter, and hope you will not allow the
first to be the last. Among the matters which interest me, the
Frankfurt negotiations, next to immediate necessities, occupy
the first place with me, and I am very much obliged for any
news from thence. I regard our policy, up till now, as correct;
but I look mournfully into the future. We have armed ourselves
too soon and too strongly, and the heavy load which we have
assumed is dragging us down an inclined plane. There will be
intervention in order to occupy the Landwehr, as people do not
like simply to send them back home. We then shall not even
be Austria’s reserve, but shall sacrifice ourselves directly
for Austria, and relieve her of the stress of war. The first
shot on the Rhine brings with it a German war as the chief
circumstance, from its threatening Paris. Austria will get
breathing time; and will she make use of her freedom to aid us
in playing a brilliant part? Will her efforts not rather be
directed so to shape the measure and form of our success as
it may serve specific Austrian interests? If we are worsted,
the Federal States will all desert us, like faded plums in the
wind; and each State, the capital of which receives a French
garrison, will save itself in a patriotic way on the raft of
a new Rhenish Confederation. Perhaps it will be possible to
attain a combination of measures on the part of the three
great neutral Powers. We are too expensively armed to be able
to wait the result as patiently as England and Russia, and
our intervention will scarcely bring to light that quadrature
of the circle—a peace basis agreeable to France and Austria.
The public voice in Vienna is said to be very bitter against
their own Government, and is stated to have reached the pitch
of hissing their national hymn. Our enthusiasm for war seems
also to be only of a moderate character, and it will be
difficult to convince the nation that war and its evils are an
unavoidable necessity. The proof of this is too artificial for
the comprehension of a Landwehr man.
In a business point of view, my position here is very pleasant;
but there is a great deal to do to manage forty thousand
Prussians, for whom one has to be police, advocate, judge,
assistant, and councillor—every day there are twenty to fifty
signatures, without passports. I am still, as it were, in camp,
with a few beds, towels, and caps, bought in a hurry; without
cook and kitchen, as all utensils are wanting—and, in all
this heat, without summer clothing! My house is large enough,
and handsomely situated on the Newa; three great saloons, two
of them larger than those at Seufferheld’s; I have had the
Chancery placed in one, with a good flooring, looking-glass
doors, and silver chandeliers. All that I have as yet received
from Frankfurt are my weapons, unfortunately packed under
some crown chandeliers in such a way that three guns were
quite broken to pieces, and the barrels ruined. I wonder what
wiseacre packed them! If the rest of the things have been
packed so, I may perhaps congratulate myself if they have been
lost. The insurance is small, if the plate is with it; the
premium high, because the fool has insured against “war risk!”
* * * * *
Hohendorf, 3d February, 1860.
I still hear with pleasure, and with a sort of longing for
home, all intelligence concerning the state of things and
persons at Frankfurt; and when I read the papers, I often feel
a desire to hurry into the midst of battles at the sessions.
The campaign over the war constitution was capital. Let them
proceed openly and daringly to urge our demands; they are
too just not finally to be, although slowly, recognized. The
Sovereign States, by grace of the Rhenish Confederation and the
Diet, can not rely upon their particularity for any duration
against the stream of events. As in my recovery, there may
occur a time of standing-still and relapse occasionally; but
it still will go forward, when we courageously _dare_ and are
not ashamed of our daring any more, but openly proclaim in the
Diet, in the press, and, above all, in our Chambers, that which
we desire to represent in Germany, and what the Federation has
hitherto been for Prussia—an Alp and a noose about our necks,
with the end of it in the hands of the enemy, that only waits
the proper moment to run it tight. But enough of politics.
I hope soon to be in trim for my journey—am perhaps already
so. My wife and the physicians conjure me to go south—to
Heidelberg or Switzerland. I long for Petersburg, that I may at
last live quietly in my own house.
* * * * *
Petersburg, 16th June, 1860.
We are pretty well at present, and I am much better than if I
were in Germany without being wanted. Rest and the comforts of
domestic life are doing their best. It is 24° in the shade,[43]
but always cool nights. Business proceeds, thanks to so
delightful a Minister as Gortschakoff, without annoyance—in
short, _cela va bien, pourvu que cela dure_. Our relations here
are excellent, no matter what the newspapers may fable about it.
The Augsburger people and Company are still afraid lest I
should become Minister, and think they can prevent it by
abusing me and my Franco-Russian ideas. It is a great honor to
be dreaded by the enemies of Prussia. My political flirtations
in the spring, at the Court, and with the Ministry, have,
furthermore, been so accurately sifted that they are well aware
of what the state of the case is, and how I am believed to find
precisely in the national aspirations powers of resistance and
strength. If I _am_ written down a devil, it is a Teutonic
one, and no Gallic fiend. ——’s lie factory might attack me
much more to the purpose on other grounds than on Bonapartism,
if they wish to make an impression at our Court, as among the
Augsburgers.
* * * * *
St. Petersburg, 22d August, 1860.
I am quite excluded from home politics, for with the exception
of newspapers, I only receive official statements, which do not
give me the groundwork of things. According to these, we have
promised nothing definite at Teplitz, but have made our support
of Austria dependent upon that _practical_ demonstration of
her good-will towards us in German politics; when this has
been done, she may reckon on our gratitude. I should be very
content with this; and if we only see the Vienna soap in a
lather, we should be glad to return the service. Certainly
the indirect accounts we receive from other courts sound
otherwise. According to these, if true, though we have not
concluded any guarantee treaty, we have, at any rate, bound
ourselves verbally to assist Austria, under all circumstances,
should she be _attacked_ by _France_ in Italy. Should Austria
find it necessary to act on the offensive, our consent would
be requisite, if our co-operation is to be anticipated. This
version appears more unprejudiced than it would, in fact, be.
Austria having security that we should fight for Venice, she
will know how to provoke the _attack_ of France—it has been
asserted that since Teplitz, Austria has come out boldly and
defiantly in Italy. Viennese politics, since the Garibaldian
expedition, desire to make things in Italy as bad as they can
be, in order that if Napoleon himself should find it necessary
to declare against the Italian Revolution, movements should
commence on all sides and former conditions be assimilatively
restored. This reckoning with and upon Napoleon may be very
deceptive, and it would seem as if, since Teplitz, it has
been given up, and there were hopes of attaining results by
_opposing_ Napoleon. The restless, passionate character of
Austrian politics endangers peace in both ways. What will the
Chamber say to Teplitz—to the organization of the army? All
sensible men will naturally agree with Government as to the
latter. But the influence of foreign politics can first be
estimated, when it is known _what the meaning of Teplitz really
is_. A well-informed but somewhat Bonapartist correspondent
writes to me from Berlin, “We were prettily taken in at Teplitz
by Viennese good-humor; sold, for nothing, not even a mess of
pottage.” God grant that he errs in this! In speaking of the
Bonapartists, it occurs to me that some kind of general rumors
reach me, that the press, _National Verein_, _Magdeburger_,
_Ostpreussische Zeitung_, carry on a systematic war of calumny
against me. I am said to have openly supported Russo-French
pretensions respecting a cession of the Rhine province, on the
condition of compensation nearer home; I am a second Borries,
and so on. I will pay a thousand Fredericks-d’or to the person
who will prove to me that any such Russo-French propositions
have ever been brought to my knowledge by any one. In the whole
period of my German residence I never advised any thing else
than that we should rely on our _own_ strength, and in the case
of war, upon the aid of the national forces of Germany. These
foolish geese of the German press do not see that in attacking
me they are losing the better part of their own efforts. I am
informed that the fountain-head of these attacks was the Court
of Coburg, in a writer who has personal spite against me.
Were I an Austrian statesman, or a German Prince and Austrian
reactionist, like the Duke of Meiningen, our _Kreuzzeitung_
would have protected me as it has him; the mendacity of these
assaults is unknown to some of our political friends. As I am,
however, an old member of their party, entertaining particular
ideas upon certain points, well known to him to his misfortune,
I may be slandered to their hearts’ content. I hear of the
whole affair principally from the _officious_ advocacy of the
_Elberfeld Zeitung_, which is sent to me. There is nothing
like inquisitors among themselves, and friends, who long have
partaken of the same cup, are more unjust than foes. I am
satisfied. One ought not to rely on men, and I am thankful for
every breath which draws me inward.
* * * * *
Stolpmünde, 18th Sept., 1861.
In reference to the Conservative programme, I fully subscribe
to your observations. The _negative_ construction prevailing
throughout of the propositions should have been avoided from
the first. A political party can never stand, much less conquer
position and adherents, by a mere languid defensive policy.
Every party professes to abhor the dirt of the German Republic,
and the Opposition now forming give themselves honest trouble
not to have it—that is, the dirt. A figure of speech so much
wider than the requirements of the time, either means nothing,
or conceals what people do not desire to say. I myself am
in doubt whether the authors of the programme do not really
stand at the pure Würzburg point of view. Among our best
friends, we have so many doctrinaires who ask from Prussia an
identical duty of protecting foreign princes and countries as
she protects her own subjects. The system of the solidarity of
the conservative interests of all countries, is a dangerous
fiction as long as the fullest and most honest reciprocity does
not exist between the rulers of all countries. Were Prussia to
carry it out in isolation, it would become Quixotism, which
would only weaken our King and his Government in the solution
of the most important question, viz., that defense of Prussia
confided to the Crown of Prussia by the Almighty, against
injustice coming from within or without. We are gradually
making the whole unhistorical, ungodly, and illegal sovereignty
swindle of _those_ German princes who use the Confederation as
a pedestal whence to play at being European powers, into the
nurse-child of the Conservative party of Prussia. Internally
our Prussian _Government_ is liberal; abroad it is legitimist.
We respect foreign crown rights with greater constancy than
we do our own, and become enthusiastic about those lesser
sovereignties created by Napoleon and sanctioned by Metternich,
to blindness against all the perils with which the independence
of Prussia and Germany is threatened in the future, as long as
the nonsense of the _present_ Confederation endures, which is
nothing more than a hothouse of dangerous and revolutionary
efforts. I could have wished that, instead of vague expressions
against the German Republic, it had been openly stated in
the programme what we desire to see changed and restored in
Germany, whether by justly directed efforts towards alterations
in the constitution of the Confederation, such as definite
associations like the Customs Union, and the Military Treaty
of Coburg. We have the double task of giving evidence that the
existing Confederation is not our _ideal_, but that we purpose
to attempt the necessary alterations openly in a legal way,
and that we do not intend to go _beyond_ these in confirming
security and prosperity. To us the necessity of a firmer
consolidation of our defensive powers is as patent as that of
daily bread; we require a new and plastic system of customs,
and a number of institutions in common, to defend material
interests against the evils resulting from the unnatural
interior configuration of German frontiers. There should be no
doubt as to the sincerity and earnestness with which we ask for
these objects. Nor do I see, moreover, _why we should recoil
so prudishly from the idea of popular representation, whether
in the Diet, or in any customs, or associative parliament_.
Surely we can not combat an institution as revolutionary which
is legally established in every German State, and which we
Conservatives even would not wish to see abolished, even in
Prussia. In national matters we have hitherto regarded very
moderate concessions as valuable. A thoroughly conservative
national representation might be created, and yet receive the
gratitude of the liberals.
I am interrupted by the sounds of packing. In case you still
have an opportunity of conferring with our friends on the
subject, I enclose you the sketch I read to you with the
request, however, that it shall not become public, as I am
unaware whether the King would like that this hasty memorandum
of the conversation I had with His Majesty, and which I
committed to writing at his command, should become known, as I
hear several discussions have taken place about it.
* * * * *
Berlin, the 2d Oct., 1861.
In Koblenz and here I have been active for German politics,
and in the present state of things not quite without results.
I wrote about the 19th of last month from Stolpmünde to your
residence here, and enclosed in my letter the draught of the
short sketch I had presented to the King. I am to carry this
matter into greater detail. If, therefore, the letter and
enclosure, as I hope, has reached your hands, I beg of you to
send it me to Reinfeld, that I may work it up more completely
there. I am really home-sick for my household on the English
Quay, with the tranquil view of the Neva ice. On the 13th, it
will be necessary to meet at Königsberg.
* * * * *
Berlin, the 16th May, 1864.
I can understand your hesitation against the address, which,
however, in my opinion, at the present time seizes the
diplomatic position with useful pressure. I may certainly be
mistaken in this, for the longer I act in political affairs
the less is my confidence in human calculation; and if you
feel an inward opposition to it, I speak the less of it, as
I would rather be able to declare with a good conscience
that the Government has not inspired the idea mirrored in
it. The actual state of things, however, is such, that it
appears very necessary to let loose all the dogs willing to
give tongue (forgive this sporting simile) against Denmark
at the conference; the general cry of the pack will effect a
conviction on the part of alien Powers that the subjection of
the Duchies to Denmark is an impossibility, and the latter will
be obliged to consider projects which the Prussian Government
can not present to them. Among alien Powers in this last
category I class the Holsteiners themselves, together with the
_Augustenburg_, and all the eternally ignoble down to Königsau.
The Duchies have hitherto played the part of the birthday
child in the German family, and have accustomed themselves to
think that we are willing to bring every sacrifice to the
altar of their particular interests, and are willing to risk
the existence of Prussia for every individual German in the
north of Schleswig. The address will especially counteract this
frenzy; I do not fear that it will have so strong an effect as
to bring us into any difficulty. If Prussian ambition were to
rise to such a height among the nation, so that the Government,
instead of stimulating, would have to moderate the feeling, I
should not at all regret such a condition.
You will perceive from this how I comprehend the matter from a
human point of view. As to the rest, my impression of gratitude
for God’s assistance till now rises into a conviction that the
Lord knows how to turn even our errors to our benefit. I daily
observe this with salutary humility.
To clear up the situation I will conclude by saying that to me
Prussian annexation is _not_ the chief and necessary end, but
probably the most agreeable result.
With hearty salutation to your honored household, I am yours,
BISMARCK.
That Bismarck not only followed the German policy of Austria, but also
her whole political action, with the lynx eyes of an opponent, is a
matter of course, and he soon perceived on what a dangerous error this
was based. Relying upon the apparent power which Prince Schwarzenberg’s
daring moves, and Radetzky’s victories over Sardinia had obtained,
Austria desired to attain to a European hegemony for herself by
diplomatic trickery. By amity with France she wished to keep Italy down;
by amity with England to overawe Turkey: by the alliance of both, as well
as by the pressure she thought to exert over Prussia and the other German
States, to humble and lame Russia, in whom she saw the sole antagonist of
her visionary hegemony. This plan, however, which explains the attitude
of Austria during the Eastern war, was condemned to failure, as the
massive power of Russia, under the most favorable circumstances, could
only be transitorily shaken by the temporary alliance of England and
France; was condemned, as France certainly did not remain quiet in the
west, out of pure friendship for Austria, after measuring swords with
Russia in the East; was condemned because England scarcely would do any
thing for Austria after attaining her ends in the East; finally it was
most certainly condemned, as Austria undervalued the power of Prussia to
an almost incomprehensible degree. Bismarck foresaw this failure, and, in
his opinion, Prussia ought to make use of the crisis which had arrived
to save herself and Germany from Austria. Hence at Berlin he continually
urged the uttermost possible increase in the strength of the army. Nor
were his warnings neglected, but, to his deep sorrow, circumstances
took such a form that when the crisis actually came Prussia made no use
of the situation. When the Italian war broke out, when Prussia did not
declare against Austria, the Ministry thought the presence of Bismarck
in Frankfurt had become an impossibility, and he was recalled. It was
reserved for Bismarck himself, eight years afterwards, to carry through
his German policy, by which Prussia was alone to accomplish her proper
position, although at that time it was in alliance with France. Bismarck,
in 1858, left the scene of his activity in Frankfurt with a heavy heart.
He was convinced it was only there, where he was so accurately acquainted
with the ground, that he could render his King and country important
services. He departed with patriotic indignation at the contempt which
Austria openly showed towards Prussia, but he also knew that a time of
retribution would arrive.
His position at Frankfurt gave Bismarck an advantage not lightly esteemed
by the statesman. Frankfurt lies like a great hotel on the road into
which the great European travelling guild especially loves to call in
the summer time. Not only did the representative of Prussia entertain
princely guests, related or friendly to the Royal House of Prussia, but
gradually became acquainted with a great number of the ministers and
diplomatists of all European States. Among the princely personages whom
he received in Frankfurt, and to whom he afterwards paid his respects
in the watering-places close at hand, we should especially name the
Grand-Duchess Helena of Russia, a born Princess of Würtemberg and widow
of the Grand-Duke Michael Paulowitsch, a lady of extraordinary abilities,
and well informed in political matters, whose influence is said to be
very great, and that not alone in Russia.
Among the statesmen whose acquaintance Bismarck made upon the Rhine,
we must first name the venerable Prince Metternich, to whom he paid a
visit, shortly after his arrival in Frankfurt in the summer of 1851, at
the Castle of Johannisberg. He had many conversations with the man who
had so long conducted the policy of Austria, in more than one respect,
in so masterly a manner, and, in contradistinction to Schwarzenberg, had
ever evinced a statesmanlike amenity towards Prussia, and continued to do
this in a very distinct manner.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Metternich and Bismarck seated together at the Johannisberg! The one
venerable with age, who had been every thing; the other a man who
was to become every thing. The representative of the past, and the
representative of the future; the past had been allotted to Austria,
the future was to be the heritage of Prussia. The present and the
Johannisberg constituted the neutral ground where the last remains of
Austrian good-will towards Prussia, and the last fragments of traditional
reverence for Austria in Bismarck’s patriotic heart, were to meet. The
two statesmen parted from each other with mutual respect.
CHAPTER II.
BISMARCK ON THE NEVA.
[1859-1862.]
Ambassador to St. Petersburg.—Illness.—Journey.—Hunting.—The
Coronation of William I.
[Illustration]
We have already stated that Bismarck would have preferred to remain at
Frankfurt, because he hoped to be useful to Prussia; and he personally
complained to the Prince Regent of his transference. The Prince Regent,
on the other hand, demonstrated to him that such an official position
in St. Petersburg was one of the first in the diplomacy of Prussia, and
that he ought to regard his mission there as a distinction. It was,
perhaps, fortunate for Bismarck that thus placed in a remote position
from the party spirit of those days, he was able as from an observatory
to watch the course of political events, both inwardly and outwardly,
and allow his views to assume distinctness, his plans to ripen. To his
many journeys was also due the preservation of personal interests. The
peculiar good-will with which he was received by the Czar, and especially
by the Empress-Mother at that time, he knew how to preserve, at the same
time winning the respect of the Russian statesmen. Of his life in these
days, his letters, which we shall presently communicate, addressed to his
wife and sister, afford us most characteristic traits. From this time
forward, sadly enough, several attacks of indisposition appear, which
dull the picture of manly strength and health we have hitherto beheld
in him. In March he set forward on his journey to St. Petersburg, and
assumed his new office on his birthday, the 1st of April, 1859; in May he
went to Moscow, but upon his return he became seriously ill, and suffered
greatly from a rheumatic attack in the left leg, which was very painful
to him.
He there placed himself in the hands of his physicians. One evening a
blister was applied to the calf of the leg, and Bismarck went to sleep,
but soon awoke in raging tortures, which increased to such a degree that
he tore away the blister, and with it some portion of the flesh. Perhaps
in the end this proved his salvation, but such remarkable symptoms of
illness appeared that it was necessary for him to ask permission for
leave of absence in Berlin. The Emperor was terrified at the alteration
in Bismarck, when he came to present his letters of recall. After a
miserable journey Bismarck arrived in Berlin, but in a pitiable state.
He remained there at the Hotel d’Angleterre in a hopeless condition;
the physicians treated with him iodine, without, however, any result,
and in this condition he was found by his wife, whom he summoned from
Pomerania. Madame von Bismarck, in every thing touching her husband,
possesses the greatest energy and affection; herself instructed in the
healing art, she had all the iodine bottles thrown away, and devoted
herself to the sick-bed. From this time the condition of Bismarck visibly
improved, and although much still remained ere he could regard himself
as fully convalescent, he was at any rate enabled to seek further
health and strength at Wiesbaden and Nauheim. The cure, however, was
very incomplete, and it cost him a great effort to perform the duty of
receiving the Emperor Alexander at Warsaw, and attending him to Berlin.
After this he sought retirement for a while with his family at Reinfeld,
whence he proposed to return to his post in St. Petersburg in November.
Reinfeld has been so often mentioned in these pages, and that spot
of ground has so much significance for Bismarck, that some few notes
concerning it can not be unwelcome to the reader. Reinfeld lies in the
undulating hill country slanting from the Baltic land-ridge towards the
Eastern Ocean, close to the left bank of the Stolpe, in a very pleasant
part of Pomerania. The mansion of Reinfeld presents that peculiar type
of Christian amiability,[44] which, in its unaffectation, produces so
pleasant an effect on the visitor. There is nothing artificial about it.
In the courtyard no oaths are heard, but in place of these the venerable
Herr von Putkammer raises his velvet skull-cap, and from his lips come
the peaceful words, “Let us all return our thanks unto the Lord,” etc.,
when at harvest-home the reapers enter with the corn-wreath of increase.
Bismarck had often fled to these fragrant Hinder Pomerania thorn-thickets
for rest and refreshment in the summer-time, from busy official life and
the social saloon of office. Hitherward he bent his steps cheerfully
from Berlin and Paris, from Frankfurt and St. Petersburg. Here, with
heartfelt contentment, he greeted his ancient friend, the forest; and in
the neighborhood of Reinfeld there are many select localities remaining
as proofs of his never-resting spirit of enterprise—as green trophies of
his creative power. Frau von Bismarck, too, had grown up in Reinfeld.
There she lived, at the service of all, with words of comfort and active
aid, as well as with medical counsel, prudent enough to amaze many an
experienced physician. Nor has Frau von Bismarck denied herself such a
sphere of helpful activity in her town life. Like a true woman, she has
forgotten her own sorrows to take care of the humblest persons around
her, and thus she has ever been a true helpmate for her consort in heavy
labors and in dark hours. Frau von Bismarck possesses a fine ear for
music. Her passionate performance has often delighted and soothed her
husband amidst his cares, when the storms of life assailed him, and the
waves ran high. How often has he sat still at night and listened to her
melody, receiving the mighty influence of music into his heart of hearts!
On his journey from Reinfeld to St. Petersburg, in the November of 1859,
Bismarck was taken dangerously ill at the house of his friend Alexander
von Below, a Member of the Upper House, at Hohendorf in Prussia,
beyond Elbing. The next station on the Eastern Railroad is Güldenboden
(Goldbottom), which gives some conclusion as to the prolificacy of the
Hohendorf district and agricultural system. After his illness there was
a long period of reconvalescence, but Bismarck was comforted by having
all his dear ones at hand. Herr von Below and his excellent sister,
Mademoiselle Jeannette von Below, evinced princely hospitality. Besides
Bismarck, his wife and children, his father and mother-in-law, Herr and
Frau von Putkammer, remained for weeks at Hohendorf, together with Miss
Fatio, the friendly home-spirit of the Bismarck family, and the boy’s
tutor, Candidate Braune, now preacher at Strausberg-on-the-Barnim.
On the recovery of his health, Bismarck went, in March, 1860, to Berlin,
where he took part in the Sessions of the Upper House; in May he returned
to Hohendorf, whence he conducted his family to St. Petersburg. They
started for Königsberg on the 30th May, slept at Marienpol on the 31st,
at Wilkomierz on the 1st June, on the 2d at Dünaburg, on the 3d at
Begitza, and on the morning of the 5th the travellers arrived in St.
Petersburg. The railway was not completed at the time, so that some
portion of the journey between the frontier and Dünaburg was performed in
carriages.
Bismarck had hired the house of Countess Stenbock, on the English Quay,
with a fine view of the Neva, the quarter of Wassili Ostrov, and the
Nicholas Bridge. When Bismarck had his family about him, he felt at home
on the Neva. He also took a special master, in order to learn the Russian
language; and it is said to have very much pleased and astonished the
Emperor Alexander when Bismarck first answered him in Russian. It is
no trifling task to learn Russian; we know persons who have frequently
attempted to do so, but have always abandoned the task in despair.
Bismarck was much in society, at the Court of the witty Archduchess
Helena. There was no lack of sporting parties; he hunted the elk, the
bear, and the wolf. At Varzin, as at Berlin, may be seen many trophies of
his skill from the North. These bear-hunts were very contributive to his
convalescence, and he warded off many a cold on these expeditions, in the
bitter weather. Bismarck, who was always a friend to dumb animals, had
much amusement in some young cubs he kept in the house, until they grew
into the ornaments of the Zoological Gardens at Frankfurt and Cologne, at
a later age. Mischka (such is the Russian name of the young bear) often
made his appearance, as did the foxes at Kniephof, to the great amusement
of the guests at the dinner-table; and walked about among the plates and
glasses on the cloth, nipped the servant in the calf of the leg, or slid
about on the slide in the dining-room.
During this Petersburg time, Bismarck was able to devote himself more
fully to the education of his children. Every Saturday they appeared
before their father with their exercise-books, and reported what progress
they had made during the week. Then followed a short examination, which
evinced his minute accuracy in scholastic teaching, and even the tutor
who was present learned something—the method of education. In later years
Bismarck has been unable to spare time for such examinations, the duties
of his office having entirely absorbed him.
Among the gentlemen who then frequented the house of Bismarck, we will
mention, the then Royal Prussian Commissioner, Freiherr von Loën (now
General); Captain von Erkert (now Colonel); the historian Legation
Councillor von Schloezer; the Prince von Croy and his old friend, Count
von Kaiserling; Baron Nolde; and Count Yxkull. In the aristocratic
circles of Russian society Bismarck was very greatly prized and esteemed,
and this not alone on account of the favor accorded to him and his wife
by the Imperial family. The Chancellor, Prince Gortschakoff, at all
times regarded him with the greatest interest, and stood in continued
and agreeable relations with him. Bismarck’s sporting skill and fortune
became almost proverbial in the Court circles of Petersburg. From an
authentic, although Suabian, source, the following anecdote was related
to us, how Bismarck and seven others went a bear-hunting:—“On their
return, one of the seven was asked, ‘How did things go?’ and he replied,
‘Very ill for us, father. The first bear trotted in; the Prussian fired,
and down fell the bear. Then came the second, and I fired, missed, and
Bismarck shot him dead at my very feet. Then came the third bear; Colonel
M. fired twice and missed twice; then the Prussian knocked him over with
one barrel. So Bismarck shot all three, and we could get no more. It went
very ill for us, father!’” Bismarck, in his Russian hunting-coat, high
boots, and big brown juff’s leather cloak, was a magically imposing sight.
[Illustration]
The following year, 1861, Bismarck spent the most of the summer in
Pomerania, and part of it in Baden-Baden, where he was considerably
consulted by King William in political affairs. In the large coronation
painting by Menzel, he forms a conspicuous and significative object. From
Königsberg he returned to his post at Petersburg.
His outward appearance had much changed: he looked much more like
what we see him now. His once rich hair has grown somewhat thin, which
makes the forehead very prominent; his enormous beard had disappeared
in Frankfurt; the features are very marked, but a humorous smile still
plays about his lips; his eyes retain their fire, and his firm bearing is
still preserved. In his letters the old hearty spirit still is evident in
all its freshness, nor is good-humor wanting; but sometimes there is a
feeling of mournfulness, which, although slightly toned, still shows that
he had not come unwounded from the fierce contest.
[Illustration]
The following letters belong to this period of his career:—
BISMARCK TO HIS WIFE.
Pskow, 28th March, 1859.
Russia lengthened herself out under our wheels, and at each
station the versts gave birth to young; but we have now run
into the haven of the railway. From Königsberg we travelled
for ninety-six hours without intermission; at Kowno we slept
four hours, and three in Egypt (a station near Dünaberg), I
think, the day before yesterday. I am now very well, but my
skin is still burning, as I was outside almost all night, and
we changed from 1 to 12 degrees of cold, R. The snow was so
deep that we literally remained sticking with six to eight
horses, and had to descend. The slippery hills were worse,
particularly in going down; it took us an hour to go twenty
paces; the horses fell down four times, and all eight got the
harness complicated together. Add to this night and wind—a real
winter journey. It was impossible to sleep in consequence of
the cold; yet it was better to be in the air. Sleep I shall
recover. The Niemen was free; but the Wilna, a river you
scarcely would know, as broad as the Maine—the stream like a
torrent, with blocks of ice. The Düna was only fordable at one
place, where we were able to cross, with four hours’ waiting
and three hours’ labor. The whole region resembles Hither
Pomerania, without villages, chiefly like the district of
Bütow and Bohren; some good forests, but the majority like the
coast of New-Kolpizlow. Many birch woods, morasses for miles,
the road straight as a line; a post-station at from every 14
to 22 versts, like Hornskrug, very well arranged, every thing
to be had, and plenty of warmth—every body very civil, and
the service punctual. Beyond Dünaberg there was a want of
horses; at one station near Kowno we waited three hours, and
then only obtained tired animals. Where the road was good they
went excellently—at half-mile pace, with our heavy, ponderous
carriage; but through the heavy parts they could not draw,
skillful fellows as the postilions were. The common class of
man pleases me at first sight. It is now six—we have just
dined. Opposite to me, as I write on the table-cloth, —— is
sitting, meditatively smoking.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS SISTER.
Petersburg, 19 (31) March, 1859.
Since early the day before yesterday, I have been warmly and
dryly lodged here, in the Hotel Demidoff; but I did not get
here without great exertion. Scarcely had I left Königsberg,
eight days ago, than a lively snow storm began, and since then
I have not seen the natural color of the earth’s surface. At
Insterburg we began only to make a mile an hour with couriers’
horses. At Wirballen I found a mail-post carriage, the interior
of which proved too narrow for my stature; I therefore changed
places with Engel, and made the whole journey on the outer
seat, open in front: a narrow bench, with an acute-angled back,
so that it was impossible to sleep at night, without reckoning
the temperature, which reached 1.2°. In this condition I
remained from Wednesday morning early until Monday evening,
and, except during the first and last nights of railroad, I
have only slept once for three hours, and once for two hours
on the post-station sofa. The skin of my face peeled off when
I arrived. The journey was so long, in consequence of the deep
snow, which had newly fallen, and the want of a sledge-road;
several times we were obliged to get out and walk, eight
horses being unable to drag the carriage forward. The Düna was
frozen, but about half a mile farther up there was free water,
by which we passed; the Wilna drifted with ice, the Niemen
was open. Horses, however, were scarce, as each post required
eight and ten instead of the usual three and four. I have never
had less than six, although the carriage was not heavy. The
guard, postilions, and outriders did their utmost, so that I
set my face against horse-slaughtering. The icy hills, were the
greatest obstacle; the four hindmost horses, on one occasion,
all tumbled over into a tangle—but the outriders on the right
of the two foremost never stumbled—and hardly had they arisen
than they went forward, in full career, with the fully-laden
carriage, down hill and over bridges, at the top of their wind,
amidst shouting and whipcord. They fell, only at step; but had
they stumbled amidst the verst-long gallops on any declivity,
we should have been the real —— of Prince ——! Well! it is over,
and I enjoy the fun of having passed through it. The Neva here
is like granite; but since yesterday there has been sunshine
and thaw. It is well known that the town is handsome; but
were I to abandon myself to the sentiment of wonder, it would
arise from the extraordinary animation of the streets; despite
their width, it requires good drivers to wind their way at a
proper pace, carriages are so numerous; the sledges disappeared
yesterday. My commissions were completed the day before
yesterday; my address for —— was written down the Chancery, as
I had arrived unexpectedly.
_1st April._—On writing this date, it occurs to me that to-day
is my birthday, the first I ever spent amidst a rattling
frost—for that has again set in—and, for twelve years, without
Johanna. Yesterday I had a long audience of the Empress-Mother,
and was delighted with the aristocratic nobility of the
venerable lady. To-day I saw the Czar; so that on my birthday
I enter upon my new functions. The day before yesterday the
Emperor shot two bears. Unfortunately, it is now all over with
Petz; he will not allow himself to be attacked, or rarely. The
new snow has been, as it were, swept away by three days of
thaw; the whole country is said to be free. Business is just
beginning. Loving letters to-day from Johanna and the children.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS WIFE.
Moscow, 6th June, 1859.
I will try to give you a sign of life, at least, hence, while
I am awaiting the samovar (tea-urn), and behind me a young
Russian, red-shirted, is troubling himself with entirely
fruitless attempts to heat the stove; he sneezes and sighs,
but it won’t burn. After having recently complained so much of
the scorching heat, I woke up this morning, between Twer and
here, and thought I was dreaming when I saw the country, with
its fresh verdure, covered, far and near, with snow! I never
wonder at any thing now; so, when I had satisfied myself that
there was no doubt about it, I turned quickly on the other
side to sleep and roll on, although the play of colors, green
and white, was not without their charm in the redness of the
dawn. I do not know whether it has melted away at Twer, but
_here_ it is gone, and cold drizzling rain is rattling on the
green leads of the roofs. Green, truly, is the body-color of
the Russian. I slept some forty miles out of the hundred to
this place; but the other sixty miles showed me nothing but
every shade of green. I did not notice cities and villages, or
even houses, excepting at the stations; thick-set woods and
birches cover morass and hill; some fine grass crop between,
and long meadows. Thus it is for ten—twenty—forty miles. I do
not remember to have noticed the bramble, and no sand; but
lonely cows or horses grazing raised an idea that men were
not far off. Moscow, from above, looks like a sown field—the
soldiers green, the cupolas green, and I do not doubt that
the eggs before me were laid by green hens. You probably know
why I am here; I have asked myself, and immediately received
the reply that change is the soul of life. The truth of this
profound remark becomes remarkably intelligible after living
ten weeks in a sunny hotel apartment, with the aspect of
paving-stones. Besides, the joys of changing apparel, when
they repeat themselves frequently, become somewhat deadened;
I therefore determined to deny them to myself, gave all the
papers to ——, to Engel my keys, declared that I would return in
a week to the Stenbock house, and drove to the Moscow terminus.
This occurred yesterday at noon, and at eight this morning I
descended at the Hotel de France. I will now visit a pleasant
friend of earlier days, living some twenty versts off in the
country; to-morrow evening I shall be here again; Wednesday
and Thursday I shall devote to the Kremlin and such matters;
and Friday or Saturday shall sleep in the beds which Engel
will purchase in the mean time. To harness slowly, and drive
rapidly, lies in the character of this people; I ordered the
carriage two hours ago; to every inquiry I have had put at ten
minutes’ interval, for the last hour and a half, the reply is,
“Directly!” with stolid, friendly quietness; and so it remains.
You know my pattern-like patience in waiting, but every thing
has its bounds: presently we shall dash along, so that carriage
and horses will break down in these bad roads, and we shall end
our journey on foot. In the interval I have had three glasses
of tea, destroyed several eggs, and the requirements of fuel
have been so fully answered that I feel a desire for fresh air.
Had I a looking-glass, I should shave from very impatience.
This city is very spacious, and very strange, with its churches
with green roofs and innumerable cupolas; far different from
Amsterdam, although both are the most original cities I have
ever seen. The amount of luggage brought here in the coupée
no German conductor could divine. No Russian travels without
two pillows, children in baskets, and masses of provisions of
every kind. From politeness, I was complimented with a sleeping
coupée, where I was worse situated than in my arm-chair. I am
really astonished at making a journey under such circumstances.
* * * * *
Archangelski, late in the evening.
A year ago this very day I never even dreamt that I should
be sitting here. On the river by which Moscow stands, some
three miles away, amidst spacious gardens, lies a mansion
in the Italian style. In front there is a broad, terraced,
sloping lawn, surrounded by hedges like those of Schönbrunn,
to the river side, and to the left of it a pavilion, in the
six rooms of which I wander alone. On the other side of the
water is a broad moonlit plain; here, grass-plats, hedges,
and orangeries. The wind howls, and the flame flickers in
the stove; old pictures look in a ghostly manner at me from
the walls, and white marble statues from without. I return
to-morrow, with my host, to Moscow; the day after to-morrow,
by way of St. Petersburg, to Berlin. I shall remain, if it be
the will of God, until Friday, to “see what is to be seen.” My
pen is very bad. I shall go to bed, though it looks broad and
cold. Good-night. God be with you, and all those sheltered by
Reinfeld!
_The 7th._—Despite the broad cold bed, I slept well—had a
capital fire made up, and am looking over the steaming tea-urn
out to the somewhat clearer, but still grayish, horizon, and
into the entirely green surroundings of my pavilion. It is a
pleasant spot of earth, and I have the comfortable feeling
that I am beyond the reach of telegraphs. My servant, like
a true Russian, has, as I perceive, slept in my antechamber
on a silken divan, and this would seem to be a domestic
arrangement, servants not being provided with special sleeping
accommodation. My pavilion has an orangery, now empty, attached
to it, about 150 feet long, at the least—the winter inhabitants
of which are at present planted out in the hedges in stately
grandeur. The whole with its appurtenances is something like
a very magnified —— with rococo appendices in the way of
furniture, hedges, terraces, and statues. I am now going out
walking.
_Moscow, 8th June._—The city, as a city, is certainly the
handsomest and most original in existence; the environs are
friendly, neither pretty nor ugly; but the prospect above from
the Kremlin, over the surrounding houses, with green roofs,
gardens, churches, towers of the most extraordinary shapes
and colors—most of them green, red, or bright blue, usually
crowned by a gigantic golden ball, many with five or more on a
church, unquestionably a thousand towers—something so curiously
beautiful, as it appears in the setting sun, can not be seen
elsewhere. The weather is again clear, and I should remain
here some days longer, had there not arisen rumors of a great
battle in Italy which may lead to diplomatic work; so I will
make haste to be at my post. The house in which I write is very
remarkable, as being one of the few remaining from 1812, with
ancient thick walls like those of Schönhausen, of Oriental
architecture—great Moorish courts.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS WIFE.
Peterhof, 28th June, 1859.
By the preceding date, you can see I am again up. I drove
here early, to take leave of the Empress-Mother, who sails
to-morrow. Her charming sincerity has truly for me something
of a character of maternity, and I can explain myself to her
as if I had known her from a child. She conversed with me
to-day for a long time on many subjects; she was lying in a
_chaise-longue_, dressed in black, knitting at a white and red
woollen shawl with long needles, on the balcony looking to the
country. I could have listened to her deep voice and honest
laugh and scolding for many an hour longer, I felt so at home.
I had only come for two hours in undress; but as she finally
said she did not wish to say farewell, but that I must have a
great deal to do, I assured her nothing at all, and then she
said, “You had better remain till to-morrow, when I leave.”
I accepted the invitation joyfully as a command, for here it
is delightful, and in Petersburg so stony. Only imagine the
heights of Oliva and Zoppot all laid out as parks; with a dozen
palaces having terraces, fountains, and lakes between, with
shady walks and lawns down to the sea-line, blue sky, and warm
sun with white clouds, and beyond the green ocean of foliage,
the real blue sea with ships and seagulls. I have not enjoyed
any thing so much for a long time. In a few hours the Emperor
and Gortschakow will be here, and then some business will
penetrate the idyl; but, God be thanked, the world seems more
peaceful despite our mobilization, and I need make myself less
anxious at certain conclusions. I am sorry for the Austrian
soldiers; how can they be commanded, that they are always
beaten? On the twenty-fourth again. It is a lesson for the
ministers, which, in their stupidity, they will still not take
to heart. I should fear France rather than Austria from the
moment we took up arms.
_28th, Evening._—After a drive for three hours in an open
carriage through the gardens, and having seen all their
beauties _seriatim_, I am drinking tea and looking at the
golden evening sky and green woods. The Imperial family desired
last night to be alone, for which I can not blame them, and
as a reconvalescent I sought solitude, and quite enough of
it for this trip. I smoke my cigar in peace, drink excellent
tea, and through the smoke of both gaze at a sunset of rare
magnificence. The inclosed jasmine I send you as a proof that
it really does grow in the open air and blossoms here. On the
other hand, I must confess that I was shown the common chestnut
in espalier as a rare plant, wrapped up in the winter. But
there are very fine oaks, ashes, limes, poplars, and birches as
thick as oaks.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS SISTER.
Peterhof, 29th June, 1859.
I wished to send you my good wishes in a pair of slippers by
the steamer of the 25th, so that you would have received them
this very day, but I could not even do it the week before,
I lay so exhausted on my back. Since January in Berlin I
have never been quite well, and anxiety, climate, and colds
increased my originally unimportant rheumatism to such a pitch
some ten days since, that I could not breathe without very
great pain. The complaint, rheumatico-gastric-nervous, had
settled in the liver, and was attacked by large cupping-glasses
like saucers, and cantharides and mustard everywhere, until
I succeeded, after having been half won for a better world,
in convincing the physicians that my nerves, by eight years
of uninterrupted anxiety and continual excitement, had been
weakened, and that more tapping of blood would lead to typhus
or idiocy. A week ago yesterday was the worst, but my good
constitution soon came to my rescue, after moderate quantities
of canary were ordered. I came hither yesterday—my first
trip—to take leave of the Empress-Mother, who is goodness
itself towards me, and at her desire I have remained here
till her departure, which takes place to-day about noon, to
enjoy myself with green and sea and country air after all my
sufferings. Do not write to Johanna about these details of
sickness; I will tell her myself; I have till now only told her
of ordinary witchcraft. As soon as I am at rest I will write
especially to Oscar; I was deeply touched by his long letter,
and should have replied long since, but before my illness I was
for a week in the neighborhood of Moscow, and the conduct of
much business is doubly difficult by the presence of the Court
and Ministers in Zarskoe-Selo. I hope to obtain my furlough
in the first third of July, and shall then go to Berlin, and I
hope by Kröchlendorf to Pomerania.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS WIFE.
Petersburg, 2d July, 1859.
Half an hour ago a courier awakened me with tidings of war and
peace. Our politics are sliding more and more into the Austrian
groove, and if we fire one shot on the Rhine the Italo-Austrian
war is over; and in place of it we shall see a Prusso-French
war, in which Austria, after we have taken the load from her
shoulders, will assist, or assist so far as her own interests
are concerned. That we should play a very victorious part is
scarcely to be conceded. Be it as God wills! it is here below
always a question of time; nations and men, folly and wisdom,
war and peace, they come like waves and so depart, while the
ocean remains! On this earth there is nothing but hypocrisy
and jugglery, and whether this mask of flesh is to be torn
off by fever or a cartridge, it must fall at last, and then
the difference between a Prussian and an Austrian, if of the
same stature, will be so small that it will be difficult to
distinguish between them. Fools and wise men, as skeletons,
look very much like one another; specific patriotism we thus
lose, but it would be desperate if we carried it into eternity.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS WIFE.
Saturday, Petersburg.
Until half-past three this morning I was engaged in writing.
The sun then rose, and I went to bed, and have been at the
ink-bottle from before nine again; in half an hour the steamer
starts; —— is behind me. For three days together I have been
obliged to go to Zarskoe-Selo, always taking up the whole
day. I dined with the Emperor recently, in the clothes of
four different people, not being prepared for dress; I must
have looked very odd. Here people are very good to me; but in
Berlin, Austria and all our dear allies are intriguing to get
me away; and yet I am such a well-behaved person! Be it as God
wills! I had as lief live in the country as not.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS SISTER.
Berlin, 14th Sept., 1859.
Forgive me for not answering your letter as yet. I thought
I should be able to stay a few days longer at Reinfeld, but
was yesterday suddenly telegraphed for. Formerly it took
twenty-eight hours to reach here, but since the railway has
been opened it takes thirty-two, and one has to get up at
four o’clock. I have just arrived here at six o’clock, have
satisfied my appetite, and now propose to sleep. I am to
receive the Regent very early to-morrow morning at the station;
thence probably to Potsdam, to receive letters and commissions;
to-morrow evening off to Warsaw. I shall very likely return
with the Emperor to Breslau, and thence come back here; perhaps
we shall then be able to see each other for one day at last. A
fourteen-seated carriage arrives at Tauroggen for me to-day;
how long it will remain there Heaven knows—this vagabondizing
in the autumn chills ending in the goal of winter is far from
amusing.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS SISTER.
Berlin, 24th Sept., 1859.
After I learnt from —— that you had passed through Berlin,
and had probably reached Kröchlendorf again, I made enormous
exertions to be free by six to-morrow morning and reach
Stettin to-morrow night by way of Kröchlendorf. After having
talked myself hoarse with mechanics and statesmen, I have
become almost idiotic with anxiety, hunger, and business. I
now at eleven o’clock do not know how to write either a short
or simple letter to —— on the business of the day; to rise
to-morrow at half-past five, and commit some financial and
legal matters to paper. _Je suis au bout de mes forces_ and
must sleep, painful as it is to me to be compelled to dispense
with my intended surprise for you to-morrow. I have already
torn up two letters to Baden I had commenced. I can not keep my
thoughts fixed to the political cothurnus, and must defer my
journey to Stettin till to-morrow night. There I shall sleep.
The day after to-morrow I have to meet Bernhard at Freienwalde;
he will accompany me as far as Labes, where the trains join; at
night I shall sleep at Reddentin, and early on the 27th I start
for Reinfeld, or Johanna will scratch my eyes out. It is her
father’s birthday, and horses are already ordered. If I thought
this letter would reach you in time, I should try to persuade
you to go to Reinfeld at the same time, but you would be worn
out with the journey. I have greatly recovered, particularly
during the fortnight at Baden. My left leg is still weak and
swollen from walking, my nerves not yet recovered from the
iodine. I still sleep badly, and after the many people and
things I have seen and spoken to to-day, I am tired and angry;
I do not know what at, but I have very different ideas to those
of six weeks ago, when I cared little for living longer, and
the people who then saw me here say that they did not believe
to have had that pleasure to-day. Every Prussian ambassador
dies or goes mad, says ——, with a look which vouches for the
truth of his words. Other people, however, do the same. I hope
to remain a fortnight at Reinfeld, and then leave for the
North. It is possible that I may be called back here after the
Regent’s return, and my journey may be delayed by that of the
Emperor. In any case it will be a winter journey; in Petersburg
there is already snow and two degrees of frost. I can not even
wish for another post, as according to medical advice I am to
be lazy—and that is only possible at Petersburg—unless I desire
to resign altogether. I shall wrap myself in bear-skins and be
snowed up, and see what remains of me and mine next May in the
thaw. If there are too few I shall return to agriculture and
close with politics, as Gischberg does in his fourth picture.
It would be very pleasant, however, if we could see each other
before the winter sleep; should I return in a fortnight this
would be easy, otherwise we must seek other means, visit Danzig
or the Gollenberg together.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS WIFE.
Lazienki, 17th Oct., 1859.
So far have they got me! Early this morning I sought in the
first Polish station for the ticket-office to take my place as
far as here, when suddenly a benevolent Fate, in the shape of a
white-bearded Russian General, seized me; this angel is named
P., and before I recovered consciousness, my pass was recovered
from the police, my luggage from the custom-house officer,
and I was transplanted from the luggage-train to the express,
seated in one of the Imperial saloon carriages, over a cigar,
with this agreeable gentleman, and, after a good dinner at
Petorkan, arrived at the station here, where I was parted
from Alexander and luggage by the golden throng. My carriage
was ready, and my questions, shouted in various languages, as
to where I was to stay, were lost in the carriage roll, with
which two fine horses galloped me into the night. For some
half an hour I was rolling in mad haste through the darkness,
and now am sitting here in uniform with my orders on, which
we all donned at the last station. Tea is beside me, a mirror
before me, and I know no more than that I am in the Pavilion of
Stanislaus August in Lazienki, but not where it is situated,
and I live in hopes that Alexander will soon find traces of me
in more comfortable attire. By the noise there should be tall
trees or a fountain in front of the windows; except many people
in Court liveries, I do not discover any one. The Emperor
reaches Breslau early on the 23d, remains there a week, and
then, after two days, I shall be with you.
* * * * *
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Lazienki, 19th Oct., 1859.
I can only tell you in so many words that I am well. Yesterday
I was the whole day _en grandeur_; breakfasted with the
Emperor, then an audience, was very graciously and kindly
received; dinner with H. I. M.; theatre in the evening, a very
good ballet, and the boxes filled with handsome ladies. I have
slept excellently; tea is on the table, and when I have taken
it I am going to drive out. The Emperor reaches Breslau early
on the 23d; on the morning of the 25th we shall probably start
for Berlin. The tea I mentioned consisted not only of tea,
but of coffee, six eggs, three kinds of meat, biscuits, and a
bottle of Bordeaux; and from the breach I made this morning you
would see that the journey has not hurt me. The wind is rushing
over the Vistula, and rages among the chestnuts and limes
surrounding me, whirling the yellow leaves against the windows;
but here inside, with double windows, tea, and thoughts of
you and the children, I smoke my cigar in great comfort.
Unfortunately all comfort in this world has its bounds, and
I am only awaiting the end of the breakfast of those in the
antechamber (I hear Alexander’s voice calling out loudly for
a corkscrew!) to jump into the carriage, and first drive to
several castles and mansions, and then into the city.
* * * * *
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Lazienki, 21st Oct., 1859.
I shall only just give you a sign of life this morning, for
I have slept too long. Yesterday there was a grand dinner, a
water and forest illumination which transcended every thing I
had ever seen of the kind, and a ballet with mazurka. Whatever
can be done is done, and for gay people this is Abraham’s
bosom. I should enjoy this more had I any news of you. You
have, no doubt, in the uncertainty of my journey, not ventured
to write to me here, or the letter is delayed. To-morrow
about nine we go to Skianiawicze, where there is to be a
hunting-party in the park; in the evening on to Breslau. With
God’s assistance this day week I shall be in Reinfeld, and
shall, I hope, find you and the little ones in good health,
and ready to travel. I long for the moment when we shall sit
quietly at the tea-table in our winter quarters, be the Neva as
frozen as it may.
* * * * *
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Skianiawicze, 22d Oct., 9 P.M.
For five hours I have shot deer, hunted four hares, rode for
three hours—every thing went off well. We are just getting into
the coupé for Breslau, where we shall be early to-morrow.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS SISTER.
Peterhof, 1st (13th) July, 1860.
As in former times, during the sessions of the Diet, I can find
no pleasanter employment for a leisure moment than to write
you a line as to the state of my health. Under the impression
that at eight o’clock a steamer left for Petersburg, I remained
at table till half-past six—just long enough to be detained
till ten. The plan is altered to-day; instead of eight, they
start at half-past six and ten. But it is very pleasant here.
There is charming weather to day; a fine view of the green and
the sea from a well-arranged corner room of the palace; music
in honor of the birthday of the Empress-Mother; and a good
carriage, in which I shall take a drive for an hour. Peterhof
is the jewel of this neighborhood, and delightful also for a
west European, both as a park and landscape—something like the
neighborhood of Danzig and Zoppot, of which you naturally know
nothing, nor of Rügen; the latter is in the same style, but
prettier. My health is unexpectedly good since I have lived in
my own house. Your kindness in Berlin to some extent replaced
this want; but the green hotel saloon, and the provisional
character of my existence, still somewhat oppresses my memory.
I feel like an old pensioner who has done with the business
of this world, or like a formerly ambitious soldier, who has
reached the haven of a comfortable command; and I feel that
I could travel towards my end through long contented years.
Till twelve I am employed with the Carlsbaders, walking,
breakfast, dressing; from then till five official life gives
me just enough regular work to feel that I am not superfluous
in the world. Dinner I enjoy perfectly, particularly such
things as I ought not to eat. From eight to ten I ride, also
_par ordonnance du médecin_, and then read the newspapers and
dispatches—enjoying some peaches the while—till twelve. I shall
be able to endure this for a long time, provided I succeed in
retaining the position of an observant natural philosopher in
our politics. Yesterday Johanna made her first appearance in
society. As I had to be in bed by twelve, and no one comes till
eleven, it did not last long. My health is a welcome excuse
for keeping out of all company. I dined here to-day. Such are
the only irregularities that have taken place since my first
reception at Court. The Emperor was very hearty on seeing me
again, embraced me, and evinced an unquestionably sincere
pleasure at my return. Johanna finds the life far pleasanter
than she expected. Some slight cold somewhat upset her a few
days since, but thank God all is right again, as with your
Marie.
* * * * *
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Zarskoe-Selo, 4th Oct., 1860.
I must be withdrawn from the clock-work of business, and by
imperial command obtain an hour of leisure, to take thought
and write to you. My daily life is taken up from the hour of
breakfast until four without rest—work of all kinds, on paper
and among men. I then ride till six; but after dinner, by
order of the physician, I approach the ink-bottle with caution,
and only under extreme necessity. On the other hand, I read
every thing which has arrived in dispatches and newspapers, and
retire to rest about midnight, generally in good spirits, and
in a contemplative mood as to the singular demands the Prussian
in Russia makes upon his ambassador. Before sinking to sleep,
I think of the best of sisters; but to write to this angel
is only possible when I am sent for to an audience at one,
and I have to take the railway for that purpose about nine.
I thus have two hours remaining, during which I am quartered
in the vacant rooms of the handsomest of all grandmothers,
the Princess ——, where I write to you and smoke paper cigars
until a visit or breakfast disturbs me. I look from the table,
down hill, over birches and planes, where red and yellow are
already predominating over green leaves. Behind them are the
grass-green roofs of the village, over which, to the left, a
church stands, with five golden towers in the shape of onions;
and the whole is framed in on the horizon by the endless
bushes, meadows, and forest plains, behind whose brown-grayish
blue shadows a telescope would show the Isaac’s Church in
Petersburg. A characteristic landscape, but under the cold gray
sky more than autumnal—at any rate, a very northern autumn
landscape. Yesterday the young Archduke Paul was born, and in
a week the long delayed journey to Warsaw will be commenced. I
hope to remain here; at least, I have written that I did not
consider the custom of a reception on the frontier necessary,
and should only come if specially commanded. I feel, thank God,
much better than in the spring; but I do not trust in my health
so entirely, and the Court life there, with diurnal balls until
three o’clock, and all its restlessness, will be a severe trial
even for people in perfect health. After my many journeys since
the beginning of 1859, the feeling of really living anywhere
with my own family is so beneficial that I am loath to tear
myself away from domesticity. I should like to remain, like
the badger, in my lair, at least until summer returns. Johanna
and the children, thank God, are well, although Bill gave us
some anxiety for a time, as Johanna will have informed you. The
tutor and Josephine, the nurse, are, however, in bed. Quite
without sickness we never are, and the doctor is a daily
guest. God grant that all sufferings are at an end in your
house! The Chamberlain is just announced, and I do not know
whether I shall be able to finish these lines here, or the day
after to-morrow in Petersburg, when the Eagle sails, having
many dispatches to write till then.
_Petersburg, 12th Oct._—On taking up my letter-case, among my
preparations for departure I found the foregoing, of which I
was guilty at Zarskoe-Selo, and will not withhold it from you.
Since then I have been ordered to go to Warsaw, and obey with
somewhat of a heavy heart, after having somewhat evasively
declined an invitation of the Emperor’s to that place. I am
well enough for business, but not for pleasure. When you read
this, probably on Wednesday, I shall, if God will, already be
in Berlin. On Thursday I leave for Warsaw, and thence, by way
of Wilna, hither. I shall not therefore have the pleasure of
seeing you, unless by chance you should be in Berlin. I hope to
do so next summer. The sea voyage will not be comfortable, but
the land journey is too monotonous.
* * * * *
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Petersburg, 9th Dec., 1860.
I take it for granted that you are already in Berlin, as
I do not know what you could do in the long evenings at
Kröchlendorf, although they are not so long as here, where
lights are now brought punctually at three o’clock, to see
to read and write. On some of our foggy days it is hardly
possible, despite of the double windows and distance from the
cold, to enter upon such pursuits after noon. But I can not say
that my evenings or nights are too long; my anger at the swift
progress of time is as great in the evening when I go to bed,
or in the morning when I rise. I have just now a great deal to
do; we are not at all social—my means do not permit it. I catch
cold in other people’s houses, and generally an ambassador with
30,000 thalers salary is condemned to great economy. I receive
visitors at dinner, _i.e._, I give them according to _fortune
de pot_, but no evening parties. Evening parties, theatres, and
so forth, are interdicted by the mourning carriages; coachmen,
jägers, are all dressed in black. I have been out hunting once,
but found the wolves wiser than the huntsmen; I was glad,
however, to be able to do so once more. The cold is not very
intense; three, five, seven, seldom eleven degrees of frost;
there has been good sledging for some weeks.
I am in the midst of Christmas plagues, and find nothing for
Johanna that is not too dear. Please buy her some twelve or
twenty pearls at Friedberg’s, suitable for her necklace, _i.e._
for the largest; say about 300 thalers. I should also like some
picture-books, in Schneider’s Library; if you are unable to get
them, ask —— to do so. I should like “Düsseldorf Magazines”
of last year, “Düsseldorf Art Albums” of last and this year,
München _Fliegender Blätter_ of last year, and München
_Bilderbogen_ of this year and the last; also Kladderdatsch
Almanac, and such nonsense.
Please get all this as soon as you can, and send it me by the
aid of Harry with the next dispatch-bag—also the pearls, so
that they may be here by Christmas; a courier will probably
start before then. Put a few boxes of confections with them,
but not too many, for the children are in a customary state of
digestion without them.
The death of old Bellin makes a breach at Schönhausen, and
puts me into some doubt as to my arrangements there. I do not
know whether the widow will remain in the mansion, or whether
she will prefer her little cottage—the ice-house—which the old
man arranged for her. The garden I shall have to resign to the
farmer, but will reserve a right of resumption by a notice from
year to year, should I return thither. The accounts I must give
to my attorney; I do not know any one there.
* * * * *
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Petersburg, 26 (14) March, 1861.
I first congratulate you on my birthday; this disinterested
step, however, is not the only reason of the unusual appearance
of an autograph letter from me. You know that on the 11th
April the basis of my domestic bliss was born; it is not,
however, as well known to you that I signified my delight at
the return of this day last year by the present of a pair of
earrings, brilliants, purchased of Wagner Unter von Linden,
and that they have recently disappeared from the possession
of the charming owner, and have probably been stolen. In
order to soften the sorrow of this loss, I should be glad
to receive by the 11th—there is sure to be a courier or some
other traveller before that time—a pair of similar decorations
of the conjugal earshells. Wagner will know about what they
were and cost; if possible I should like them similar; a
simple setting like your own, and they may be a little dearer
than those of last year. The equality of my budget can not be
maintained, whether the deficit be a hundred thalers more or
less. I must await the restoration of my finances, when I take
wife and children to Pomerania, and send the horses to grass
in Ingermanland in the summer. Experience alone can tell how
great the saving will be by such an operation. Should it prove
insufficient, I shall next year leave my very pleasant house,
and put myself on a Saxo-Bavaro-Würtemberg footing, until my
salary is raised, or the leisure of private life is restored
me. Otherwise I have grown friendly with the existence here,
do not find the winter so bad as I thought, and require no
change in my position, until, if it be God’s will, I can sit
down in peace at Schönhausen or Reinfeld, to have my coffin
made without undue haste. The ambition to be a minister dies
away nowadays from a multitude of causes, not all fitted for
epistolary communication; in Paris or in London I should live
less pleasantly than here, and have no more to say; and a
removal is half a death. The protection of two hundred thousand
vagabondizing Prussians, one-third of whom live in Russia,
and two-thirds of whom visit it annually, gives me enough to
do not to get bored. My wife and children endure the climate
very well; there is a certain number of people with whom I
associate; now and then I shoot a bear or an elk, the latter
some two hundred versts hence; there is charming sledging; high
society—whose daily visits are without the slightest advantage
for the royal service—I avoid, because I can not sleep if I go
to bed so late. It is impossible to appear much before eleven;
most people come after twelve, and about two go to a second
soirée of supper-eating folks. This I am unable yet to endure,
and perhaps never shall again, and I am not angry at it, as
the ennui of a rout is more intense here than anywhere else,
because one has too few circumstances of life and interests in
common. Johanna goes out often, and answers without annoyance
all questions about my health, as the necessary manure on
the unfertile soil of conversation. I wish Johanna, for
economical reasons, would go to Germany as soon as possible,
but she will not! I mean to Pomerania, and I would follow
her as soon and for as long as I can get leave of absence.
I will take the waters somewhere, and then above all take a
sea-bath, to get rid again of this intolerable tenderness of
skin. There is nothing heard from and seen of ——; couriers
seem to have left off travelling. For months I have had no
express dispatches from the Ministry, and what come by post are
tiresome. Farewell, dear heart; greet Oscar. The Neva still
bears carriages of every kind, although we have had a thaw for
weeks, so that no sledges can pass in the city, and carriages
are daily broken in the deep fissures in the ice which covers
the pavements; it is like driving over a frozen ploughed field.
You, no doubt, have green leaves about you.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO OSCAR VON ARNIM.
Reinfeld, 16th August, 1861.
I have just received the news of the terrible misfortune which
has befallen you and Malwine. My first thought was to come
to you instanter, but I had overestimated my strength. The
cure has commenced, and the thought to break it off suddenly
was so definitely contradicted, that I determined to let
Johanna travel alone. Such a blow is beyond the power of human
consolation; and yet it is a natural desire to be near those
whom one loves, in sorrow, and to join in their lamentations.
It is all we can do. A greater sorrow could scarcely have
befallen you—to lose so charming and joyfully growing child
in this way, and with it to bury all the hopes which were to
become the joys of your old age. As to this, mourning can not
depart from you as long as you live in this world. This I feel
with you in deeply painful sympathy. We are without counsel,
and helpless in the mighty hand of God—in so far as He will
not help us—and can do nothing but bow in humility under His
behest. He can take away from us all that He gave us, and leave
us entirely desolate; and our mourning over this would be the
more bitter the more we rise against the Omnipotent will in
anger and opposition. Do not mingle bitterness and murmuring
with your just sorrow, but remember that you still have a son
and daughter left you, and that you must regard yourself as
blest with them, and even with the feeling of having possessed
a beloved child for fifteen years, in comparison with the
many who have never had children and known paternal joys. I
will not burden you with weak grounds for comfort, but assure
you in these lines that as a friend and brother I feel your
sorrow as my own, and am cut to the heart by it. How do all the
little cares and troubles which beset our daily lives vanish
beside the iron advent of real misfortunes! And I feel the
recollections of all complaints and desires, by which I have
forgotten how many blessings God gives us, and how much danger
surrounds us without touching us, as so many reproofs. We
should not depend on this world, and come to regard it as our
home. Another twenty or thirty years, under the most favorable
circumstances, and we shall both have passed from the sorrows
of this world; our children will have arrived at our present
position, and will find with astonishment that the life so
freshly begun is going down hill. Were it all over with us
so, it would not be worth while dressing and undressing. Do
not you remember the words of a Stolpmünder fellow-traveller?
The thought that death is but the passage to another life
may perhaps diminish your sorrow but little, but you might
believe that your beloved son would have been a faithful and
true companion for the time you have yet to live here, and
would have continued your memory. The circle of those whom we
love grows narrower and receives no increase until we have
grandchildren. At our years we make no new connections which
can replace those who have died away. Let us therefore hold
each other closer in affection, until death parts us also, as
your son is now parted from us. Who can tell how soon! Will you
not come with Malle to Stolpmünde, and live quietly with us for
a few weeks or days? In any case I shall come in three or four
weeks to you to Kröchlendorf, or wherever you may be. I greet
my beloved Malle from my heart. May God grant her, as also
yourself, strength to endure and patient resignation!
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS SISTER.
Petersburg, 17 (5) Jan., 1862.
I wished last night to go shooting some fifteen miles hence on
the road to ——, where some wild quadrupeds, already purchased
by me, are awaiting me. I therefore wrote in great haste all
that to-day’s courier was to take with him. Brotherly love
in this case, however, would have suffered. Then it grew so
cold again that the nocturnal sledging would have put my
nose in a dilemma, and the chase would have been cruel for
the beaters. I therefore gave it up, and won a little time
to write you a few loving words—especially to thank you for
your excellent purchases and letters. The dress is everywhere
admired; and in the little brooch also your good taste has
evinced itself. Christmas, with God’s grace, has passed
away from us in quietness and content, and Marie is making
satisfactory progress. It would, therefore, be unthankful to
complain of the cold, which has remained fixed at 18° to 28°
with a persistency remarkable even for Russia, which would
give 22° to 32° for the little hills to the south-west, where
I usually shoot. For fourteen days the temperature has never
been less than 18°. Usually, it is seldom longer than thirty
hours consecutively over 20°. The houses are so frozen that no
fires are of any use. To-day it is 24° at the window in the
sun; a bright sun and blue sky. You write in your last letter
of imprudent words spoken by ——, in Berlin. Tact he has not,
and never will have; but that he is intentionally my enemy I
do not consider. Nor does any thing take place here that every
body might not know. If I were disposed to continue my career,
it might perhaps be the very best thing if a great deal were
heard to my disadvantage, for then I should, at least, get
back to Frankfurt; or if I were very idle and pretentious for
eight years, that would do. This is far too late a thing for
me; I shall therefore continue to do my duty. Since my illness
I have become so mentally weak, that the energy for exciting
circumstances is deficient. Three years ago, I might still have
been a useful minister, but now I regard myself, mentally, as
a sick circus-rider. I must remain in the service some years,
if ever I am to see it. In three years the Kniephof lease
will be out, in four years that of Schönhausen: until then
I should not know exactly where to live, if I resigned. The
present revision of posts leaves me out in the cold. I have
a superstitious dread of expressing any wish about it, and
afterwards to regret it by experience. I should go to Paris
or London without sorrow, without joy, or remain here, as God
and His Majesty please; the cabbage will grow no fatter for
our policy, nor for me, whichever should happen. Johanna
wishes for Paris, because she thinks the climate would suit
the children better. Sickness happens everywhere, and so does
misfortune; with God’s help, one gets over them, or one bends
in resignation to His will; locality has nothing to do with
it. To —— I concede any post; he has the material. I should be
ungrateful to God and man, were I to declare I am badly off
here, and anxious for a change; but for the Ministry I have
an absolute fear, as against a cold bath. I would rather go
to one of those vacant posts, or back to Frankfurt, even to
Berne, where I lived very well. If I am to leave here, I should
like to hear of it soon. On the 1 (13) February I must declare
whether I retain my house, must, _en cas que si_, stipulate
for buildings and repairs; expensive horses and other matters
would have to be purchased, which requires months here, and
causes a loss or saving of thousands. To move in winter is
scarcely possible. After some interruptions, I read my letter
again, and it makes a melancholy impression; unjustly so, for I
am neither discontented nor tired of life, and, after careful
consideration, have discovered no wish unfulfilled, except
that it should be 10° less cold, and that I should have paid
some fifty visits which press upon me. Modest wishes! I hear
that I am expected in the winter to the Diet. I do not think
of coming to Berlin without special orders from the King,
unless in summer, upon leave. Johanna and the children will,
I think, go to Germany in about four months. I shall follow,
if God will, in some four or six weeks, and shall return about
as much sooner. By reason of the cold, the children have not
been out of the house for nearly three weeks. All Russian
mothers observe this rule so soon as it is more than 10°; it
must therefore be a matter of experience, although I go to 15°,
but no farther. Despite this want of air, they look very well,
notwithstanding matters of diet—which is constitutional—and
their Christmas feastings. Marie has become a sensible little
person, but is still quite a child, which I am glad to see.
By my side lies Varnhagen’s Diary. I can not understand the
expenditure of moral indignation with which this needy mirror
of the times, from 1836 to 1845, has been condemned. There are
vulgarities enough in it, but people conversed in that manner
in those days, and worse; it is drawn from life. V. is vain
and malicious, but who is not? It is merely a question how
life has ripened the nature of one or another with worm-holes,
sunshine or wet weather, bitter, sweet, or rotten. During the
whole time at my command, there has been humbug of all sorts;
so I have written away up to two o’clock, and at three the
messenger must be on the railway.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Petersburg, 7th March, 1862.
I make use of an English courier to send you a greeting of a
few lines; a groan at all the illness with which God afflicts
us. We have had scarcely a day all this winter on which we were
all well in the house. Johanna has a cough just now, which
quite exhausts her, so that she must not go out; Bill is in bed
with fever, pains in body and throat—the physician can not tell
us yet what will come of it; our new governess scarcely hopes
to see Germany again. She has been lying prostrate for weeks,
daily weaker and more helpless; the doctor thinks probably
galloping consumption will be the end of it. I am only well
when out shooting; directly I enter a ball-room or a theatre I
catch cold, and neither eat nor sleep. As soon as the climate
is milder I shall send them, stock, block, and barrel, to
Reinfeld. The indifference with which I contemplate a transfer
is much diminished by these facts: I should scarcely have the
courage to face next winter here. Johanna will scarcely be
persuaded to allow me to return hither by myself. If I am not
transferred I shall perhaps seek a longer leave of absence. I
have recently had a letter from ——; he believes he is intended
to be sent here, but would rather go to Paris; he thinks me
intended for London, and I have somewhat familiarized myself
with the thought. Letters from the Prince spoke of ——’s
resignation and my succession; I do not think this is the
intention, but should decline were it so. Independently of
political exigencies, I do not feel myself well enough for so
much excitement and labor. This feeling also causes me some
thought; if I were offered Paris, London is quieter; were it
not for climate and my children’s health, I should doubtless
prefer to remain here. Berne is also a fixed idea of mine;
tiresome places in pretty neighborhoods suit old people, but
there is no sporting there, as I do not care for climbing after
chamois.
CHAPTER III.
BISMARCK ON THE SEINE.
[1862.]
The Premiership ahead.—Ambassador to Paris.—Unveiling
of the Brandenburg Statue.—Uncertainty.—Delivers his
Credentials to Napoleon III.—Description of the Embassy
House at Paris, and of Prussia House, London.—Journey to
the South of France.—Trouville.—Bordeaux.—Bayonne.—San
Sebastian.—Biarritz.—Luchon.—Toulouse.—End of his Journeyman
Days.
[Illustration: BISMARCK AS CHANCELLOR.]
We have arrived at the last section in Bismarck’s political
apprenticeship and journeymanship—to his embassy in Paris. This only
comprises a period of a few weeks, but it has become very important, by
reason of the distinguished acquaintances that Bismarck then made, by
the more accurate knowledge he then obtained of French relations, which
grew more extensive subsequently, on his later journeys to the waters of
Biarritz. We know from one of the letters already given that Bismarck had
already received an intimation at St. Petersburg that his King intended
to appoint him Minister-President, and put him at the head of the
Government. This intimation was probably not the only one; the relations
between the King and himself had for a long time been very intimate.
The events of those days are too near to us to admit of the veil being
entirely drawn aside; probably it was King William’s intention to have
appointed him Minister-President in the spring of 1862 at once. We do
not know what hindered the appointment at that time; the result showed
that it was a fortunate circumstance in several respects that Bismarck
was first Ambassador in Paris before becoming head of the Government.
Whether Bismarck had misgivings about assuming so great a responsibility,
who can tell? He would have ripely tested himself, but certainly he would
not have hesitated for an instant to respond to the call of his King
with patriotic zeal, for he saw the reorganization of the army threatened
by the liberal opposition, and in that for him was the sole hope of
obtaining for Prussia at the right hour her just position, and the future
of Germany. He certainly knew that severe struggles were before him,
but he also knew they had to be fought through—that Parliamentarianism
should be rendered innoxious to the kingdom of Prussia, and that the
black-and-white standard should float from unassaulted battlements.
[Illustration]
On the 23d May, 1862, Bismarck was appointed Ambassador to Paris, and
set out thither. He had previously remained a few weeks at Berlin, where
it is certain several conferences took place as to his acceptance of the
office of Minister-President; a passage in a letter to his wife below
alludes to this.
On the 17th May the statue of the Count of Brandenburg was dedicated on
the Leipziger Platz, in the presence of King William. At that time, as
it may be said, the Ministry of Bismarck was in the air. Bismarck was
present. When the cover of the statue had fallen, amidst the strains of
the Hohenfriedberg March, H. R. H. the Prince Carl advanced to him, and
shook him by the hand, with a “Good-morning, Bismarck!”
“Salute the new Minister-President!” said a member of the former Ministry
of Manteuffel, in a very animated manner, to a representative of the new
era.
The acclamations for the King, and the trumpet-call of the trumpeters of
the Cuirassiers, accompanied the prophecy.
The three following letters to his wife show that he felt himself
painfully oppressed by the uncertainty of his then position:
Berlin, 17th May, 1862.
Our future is still as obscure as in Petersburg. Berlin is
more in the foreground. I do nothing for or against it,
but shall drink a good drop when I have my credentials to
Paris in my pocket. Nothing at all is said about London just
now, but things may change again. I go to the dedication of
Brandenburg, and then to ——, at ——, to dinner. I have not been
able to detach myself all day from Ministerial conversations,
and do not find these gentlemen at all more united than their
predecessors.
* * * * *
Berlin, 23d May, 1862.
From the newspapers you will already have seen that I am
appointed to Paris. I am very glad of it, but the shadow
remains in the background. I was already as good as taken
prisoner for the Ministry. I shall start for Paris as soon as
I can get loose, to-morrow or next day; but I can not direct
our “uncertain” things to that place as yet, for I can not
but expect that in a few months or weeks they may recall me
and keep me here. I do not come to you first, as I wish to
take possession in Paris first; perhaps they will find another
Minister-President, when I am out of their sight. I will not
go to Schönhausen for the same reason, that I may not again
be seized. Yesterday I rode about for four hours in a major’s
uniform, and received my credentials for Paris in the saddle.
The roan mare is here, and has been my joy and refreshment in
the Thiergarten; I shall take her with me. The bears went off
to Frankfurt yesterday. I have my hands full in order to render
my journey possible.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS WIFE.
Berlin, 25th May, 1862.
You write very seldom, and no doubt have more time for it than
I have. Since I have been here I have not had time to sleep
one night through. Yesterday I went out about eight o’clock
in the morning, came home five times to change my dress in a
hurry; at eight again I went to Potsdam to Prince Frederick
Charles, and returned at eleven. Now, at four, I have my first
free moment, and use it for heaping fiery coals upon your black
head. I think of leaving to-morrow—at latest on Tuesday—for
Paris; whether for long, God only knows—perhaps only for months
or weeks. They have all conspired to keep me here, and I shall
be very glad when I have found a point of rest on the Seine,
and a porter at the door who will let nobody see me for some
days. I do not know, indeed, whether to send our furniture
to Paris at all, for it is possible that I may be recalled
before they arrived. I am rather seeking a Hegira than a new
dwelling-place. I have been obliged to be very firm, to get rid
of the hotel life of waiting here. I am ready for every thing
that God sends, and only regret that I am separated from you,
without being able to say when we shall meet again. If I find
a prospect of remaining in Paris till the winter, I think you
will soon follow me, and we will settle, if it be only for a
short time. The course of June will decide whether I return
hither before the end of the session of the Diet, or remain
in Paris longer, and long enough to send for you. I shall do
what I can towards the latter result, and in any case I should
like you to come to Paris, were it only for a short time, and
without a regular residence, in order that you might see it.
Yesterday there was a grand military dinner, where I appeared
as a major. First there was a parade. The mare is my daily
delight in the Thiergarten, but not quiet enough for military
service.
[Illustration]
As to his residence in Paris, the following letters give the best account:
BISMARCK TO HIS WIFE.
Paris, 31st May, 1862.
Just a few lines amidst the throng of business, to tell you
I am well; but I feel somewhat lonely with the prospect of
green, with dull rainy weather, the humming of bees, and
twittering of sparrows. To-morrow I have a grand audience. It
is annoying that I have to buy linen—napkins, table-cloths,
and sheets. Do not have the “uncertain” things sent as yet from
Petersburg; those for Schönhausen and Reinfeld send to Stettin,
both to Bernhard’s exporter, D. Witte’s successor, to whom I
have written. Those for Reinfeld go by ship from Stettin to
Stolpmünde. My stay here is not certain, until the Ministry has
another President in place of Hohenlohe, and London is filled
up. Farewell! I greet you heartily. Pray write.
* * * * *
THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Paris, 1st June, 1862.
To-day I was received by the Emperor, and delivered my
credentials. He received me in a friendly manner, looks well,
has become somewhat stronger, but by no means fat and aged, as
he is caricatured. The Empress is still one of the handsomest
women I know, despite Petersburg; she has even grown handsomer
within these five years. The whole affair was official and
solemn. I was fetched in an imperial carriage by the Master
of the Ceremonies, and shall probably soon have a private
audience. I am anxious for work, because I do not know what
to do. To-day I dined alone; the young gentlemen were out.
The whole evening there was rain, and I was alone at home. To
whom could I go? I am more lonely in the midst of great Paris
than you are at Reinfeld, and sit here like a rat in an empty
house. My only amusement was to send away the cook for cheating
me in the accounts. You know how narrowly I look after such
things; but —— was a child in this respect. I shall dine for
the present at a café. How long this is to last, God knows! In
from eight to ten days I shall probably receive a telegraphic
summons to Berlin, and then dance and song is over. If my
opponents only knew what a benefit they would confer upon me
personally by their victory, and how sincerely I wish them
success, —— would then, perhaps, from malice, do all he could
to bring me to Berlin. You can not detest the Wilhelm Strasse
more than I do, and if I am not convinced that it _must_ be,
I will not go. To leave the King in a dilemma during illness,
I regard as cowardice and infidelity. If it is not to be, God
will raise up, for those who seek, some —— who will consent
to be a saucepan-lid. If it is to be, then forward! as our
coachmen said when they took the reins. Next summer we shall
then probably live at Schönhausen. _Hurero!_ I shall get into
my canopy bed, as broad as it is long—the only living being
in the whole house, for I do not think any body lives in the
parterre.
* * * * *
BISMARCK TO HIS SISTER.
Paris, 16th June, 1862.
If all has happened according to the programme, you will to-day
have reached Landeck, where I wish you happy and healthy days.
On the completion of your twenty-ninth year I hope to present
myself with good wishes, although I do not accurately know in
how short a time the post goes between here and Landeck. The
barometer is always at changeable, as during the past year, and
will long continue so, whether I live here or in Berlin. There
is rest in the grave—at least I hope so. Since my departure
from Berlin I have not heard a word from any body about the
Ministerial question. ——’s leave of absence is out, and he
does not again enter on his duties; this I knew before. The
end of June I wait quietly for; if I do not then know what
is to become of me, I will urgently ask for certainty, so as
to settle myself here. If I seem likely to remain here till
January, I think I shall fetch Johanna in September, although
a domestic establishment of four months is very provisional
and uncomfortable. In packing and unpacking, a small fortune
is broken up in glass and china. Besides my wife and children,
the mare is what I chiefly want. I have tried some hired
horses, but I would rather never ride again. The house is
well situated, but is dark, damp, and cold. The sunny side is
spoilt with staircases and _non-valeurs_; every thing lies to
the north, and smells musty and cloacic. There is not a single
piece of furniture one can sit upon, nor a single corner in
which one can sit; three-quarters of the house is shut up as
“state rooms,” covered up, and, without a great change in
arrangements, not suitable for daily use. The nurses would live
on the third-floor, the children on the second. The principal
staircase (first-floor) only leads to a bed-chamber, with a
large bed, also an old-fashioned saloon (style of 1818) next
to it, many staircases and anterooms. Actual living room is on
the ground-floor northward towards the garden, where I warm
myself, when the sun shines, for some hours, at most three
times a week. You will see it in the margin: 1. Dressing-room,
spongy and uninhabitable, damp; 2. Study, dark, stinking; 3.
Reception-room; 4. A view from the house to the garden, with
bookcases; 5. Dining-room; 6. My bedroom; 7. Office; 8. Garden,
where the lines are, Quai D’Orsay and the Seine; 9 and 10.
Chancery; 11. Hall; 12. Staircase. Add to this, on the first
floor one bedroom, and no more, and all the domestic offices
two stories high; narrow, dark, steep stairs, which I can not
mount upright, on account of the breadth of my shoulders, and
without crinoline. The principal staircase only goes to the
first-floor, but there are three ladder-stairs at both ends
to the upper rooms. Hatzfeld and Pourtales existed thus their
whole time, but died over it in the prime of life; and if I
stay in the house, I shall die sooner than I wish. I would not
live in it for nothing, on account of the smell.
+---+ +---+
| 8 | | |
+---+ | 1 |
| 9 | +---+
+---+ | 2 |
+------+---+
| 10 | 3 |
+------+---+
| 11 | 4 |
+------+---+
| 5 |
+---+
12 | 6 |
+---+
| 7 |
+---+
Please send Johanna the address where you had such good cakes
(Baumkuchen) made two years ago, for the birthday. I promised
one to the Archduchess Marie. Or rather, send me the address,
and I will order the cake by letter from here, and will inclose
a letter for ——, which the confectioner can send with the thing
by ship from Stettin. I am somewhat afraid if we stay here that
Johanna will be but little pleased. In a few days I am to go
to Fontainebleau. The Empress is a little stronger, and thus
handsomer than ever, and always very delightful and cheerful.
Afterwards I shall go to London for a few days. A number of
agreeable Russian ladies who were here have mostly disappeared.
Who has got my mare, if I want it here?
At the end of June, Bismarck took a short trip to the Exhibition in
London, and returned to Paris on the 5th of July. On the 14th he wrote to
his wife:—
From your letter of the 9th of this month I have learnt with
joy that you are well, and I hope to read the same again
to-morrow morning. To-day the courier at last arrived, on whose
account I left London more than a week ago. I should like to
have remained there some days longer—I saw so many pretty faces
and fine horses. But the Embassy is a horror; well furnished,
but on the ground-floor, besides the staircase, there are
only three apartments, one a chancery, another a dining-room,
and between both, serving as a common rendezvous for dinner,
without a corner in which to take off a dressing-gown, the
study of His Excellency. If wash-hand basins, etc., are wanted
there, it is necessary to mount the high, tall stairway, and
pass through the principal bedroom into a little dog-hole of a
living-room. On the first-floor is one great saloon, a small
ball-room; next to it the afore-mentioned sleeping-room and
dog-hole; that is the whole of the living-room. Two stairs
higher there are two rooms for the secretary, and five small
places for children, tutor, governess, etc. On the third-floor,
under the roof, room for the servants, the kitchen in the
basement. I get quite miserable at the idea of being cooped
up in such a place. On my application for leave of absence, I
have to-day received a reply from Berlin, that the King could
not yet determine whether he could give me leave, because the
question whether I should accept the Presidency would be held
in suspense for six weeks, and I might write whether I thought
it necessary to enter the present session of the Chambers, and
when, and whether before the commencement of my leave I would
come to Berlin. The latter I shall endeavor to avoid—shall
propose that I be left here in peace till the winter, and
during the interval, say the day after to-morrow or Thursday,
go to Trouville, west from Havre-on-the-Sea, and there await
the winter. I can always get here from that place in five
hours. Since yesterday we have had fine weather; until then it
was miserably cold, with endless rain. Yesterday I employed in
dining at St. Germain, a fine wood, two versts long, a terrace
above the Seine, with a charming view over forests, hills,
towns, and villages, all green up to Paris. I have just driven
through the Bois de Boulogne in the mildest moonlight—thousands
of carriages in a Corso file, water-surfaces with gay lights,
an open-air concert; and now to bed. Our carriages have reached
Stettin; I shall have them housed there or in Külz. All my
colleagues are gone, and the only acquaintance with whom I have
any intercourse is old ——, which neither of us dreamt of twenty
years ago. My servants are Lemburg, a Russian, an Italian
Fazzi, who was footman to Stolberg in Morocco, three Frenchmen
(chancery-servant, coachman, and cook), and an Electoral
Hessian, with a Belgian wife, as porters.
Bismarck went first to Trouville, as he announces; but he was so
uncomfortable there that he left in a very few days. On the 25th of
July he entered upon that beautiful journey to the south-west of France
into Spain, where he found strength for the important problem which
fell, two months later, to his lot—that great task he did not seek,
but did not refuse. He enjoyed the pleasure of this refreshment with
keen appreciation, for he well knew what was before him. He enjoyed
the sea-baths of San Sebastian and Biarritz particularly; he was all
“sea-salt and sun;” he lived “as in Stolpmünde, only without sack.”
He climbed the Pyrenees, and delighted in the mulberries, olives, and
red grapes of Avignon, and was so industrious a correspondent towards
his wife, that the blue envelopes, in which his letters flew from the
Spanish frontier to Farther Pomerania, did not last. How many of these
letters were written in the open air, upon a rock, upon the grass, with a
newspaper underneath them! Some of these may find their place here.
Bordeaux, 27th July, 1862.
You can not refuse me the testimonial of being an industrious
correspondent; this morning I wrote to your birthday child from
Chenonceaux, and this evening I write from the city of red
wine. These lines, however, will arrive a day later than those,
the mail only going at noon to-morrow. I have only left Paris
the day before yesterday, but it seems to me a week. I have
seen some very beautiful castles. Chambord, of which the plans
torn from a book give a very imperfect idea, in its desolation
corresponds to the fate of its possessor. In the spacious halls
and magnificent saloons, where kings and their mistresses held
their court amidst hunting scenes, the childish playthings of
the Duke of Bordeaux are the only furniture. The guide thought
I was a French legitimist, and repressed a tear when she showed
me the little cannon of her master. I paid for the tears,
according to tariff, with an extra franc, although I have no
calling to subvent Carlism. The castle courts were as quiet in
the sun as deserted churchyards. From the towers there is an
expansive prospect; but on all sides there are silent woods
and broom to the utmost horizon—no town, no village, no farm
either near the castle or around it. From the inclosed examples
of broom you will hardly recognize how purple these plants, so
beloved by me, grow there—the only flower in the royal gardens,
and swallows almost the only living tenants of the castle.
It is too lonely for sparrows. The old castle of Amboise is
magnificently situated; one can see from the top six miles
either way down the Loire. Thence one gradually passes into the
south. Wheat disappears, and gives place to maize; in between
rank woods of vines and chestnuts, castles and forts, with many
towers, chimneys, and gables, quite white, with high pointed
slate roofs. The heat was glowing, and I was glad to have half
a coupé to myself. In the evening, splendid sheet lightning
in the east, and now a pleasant coolness, which, in our own
land, we should think somewhat sultry. The sun sets at 7.35. In
Petersburg one would be able to see now, about eleven, without
lights. Till now, no letter has arrived for me; perhaps I shall
find one at Bayonne. I shall stop here some two days, to see
where our wines grow.
* * * * *
Bordeaux, Wednesday, 29th July, 1862.
Your letter of the 23d yesterday reached me safely, and I thank
God you are well. Yesterday, with our Consul and a General, I
made a charming tour through Médoc. I drank Lafitte, Mouton,
Pichon, Laroze, Latour, Margaux St. Julien, Branne, Armeillac,
and other wines in their original names, in the cellar.
Thermometer 30° in the shade, 55° in the sun; but with good
wine inside this is not felt at all. I am just starting for
Bayonne, and will write thence more quietly than now, in the
custody of the railway.
* * * * *
Bayonne, 29th July, 1862.
I employ the time in which my things are coming from the
railway station to perfect my short epistle of this morning
from Bordeaux. The country I have just passed through
transports me at first sight most vividly into the Government
Pskow, or Petersburg. From Bordeaux to this place there are
uninterrupted pine forests, broom, and moorland, sometimes like
Pomerania—as in the Strandwald behind the downs—sometimes
Russia. But when I used my glass the illusion vanished;
instead of the Scotch fir, it is the long-haired sea-pine,
and the apparent mixture of juniper, raspberries, and such
plants covering the ground is dissolved into all sorts of
foreign-looking shrubs, with leaves resembling myrtle and
cypress. The magnificence with which the broom develops
its violet-purple blossoms here is astonishing; in between
there grows a very yellow furze with broad leaves, the whole
forming a gay carpet. The river Adour, on which Bayonne
lies, is the frontier of this B flat of heath, which, in its
softer idealization of a northern landscape, sharpened my
homesickness. From St. Vincent the view stretches over the
moor and pine-trees to the blue outlines of the Pyrenees, a
sort of giant Taunus, but more bold and jagged in profile. The
post-office is closed during the hot time of day, until four
o’clock, so that I can only receive your letter in an hour,
and should be doubly impatient had I not yesterday received
your letter of the 23d; and the one lying here is older. I
think of driving to Biarritz towards evening, and bathing there
to-morrow, and then continuing my journey to the frontier. In
Fuent Arabia I await intelligence as to whether G. is in St.
Sebastian, then I shall visit him; but if he has returned to
Madrid I shall content myself with having crossed the Bidassoa,
shall return hither, and then proceed along the mountains to
Pau; thence I shall turn to the right among the mountains,
first to Eaux Bonnes and Eaux Chaudes, and next to Cauterets,
St. Sauveur, Luz, Barrèges, and Bagnères de Luchon. I can not
say that I am bored; a number of new impressions rise up within
me, but I feel like a banished man, and in thought am rather on
the Kamenz than the Adour. German newspapers I have not seen
for six days, nor do I miss them.
* * * * *
San Sebastian, 1st Aug., 1862.
The road from Bayonne to this place is magnificent. To the left
are the Pyrenees, something like Dent du Midi and Moleson;
here, however, called Pic and Port, a changing Alp panorama. To
the right the sea, a shore like Genoa. The transition to Spain
is surprising. In Behobie, the last French place, one could
believe that one was still on the Loire. In Fuent Arabia is a
steep lane twelve feet wide; every window has its balcony and
curtain, every balcony its black eyes and mantillas, beauty and
dirt. On the market-place drums and fifes, and some hundreds of
women, old and young, dancing among themselves, while the men
stand by smoking and draped. The neighborhood up to this place
is extraordinarily beautiful; green valleys and woody slopes,
above them fantastic lines of forts, row after row. Bights
of the sea with very small inlets, which, like the Salzburg
Lakes in Bergkesseln, cut deep into the land. From my window I
am looking at one of these, cut away from the sea by a rocky
islet, steeply fringed by mountains, with forest and houses to
the left, below the town and harbor. At about ten I bathed,
and after breakfast we walked or slouched through the heat to
the mount of the citadel, and sat for a long time on a bank.
Some hundred feet beneath us was the sea; next to us a heavy
fort battery, with a singing sentinel. This mountain or rock
would be an island, did not a low isthmus connect it with the
mainland. The isthmus divides two arms of the sea from each
other, and thus from the citadel towards the north there is a
fine view of the sea. To the east and west are the two arms,
like two Swiss lakes; to the south is the isthmus, with the
town on it, and behind towards the land, mountains stretching
skyward. I should like to have a picture painted of it for you,
and were we fifteen years younger we would both come hither.
To-morrow or next day I return to Bayonne, but shall remain a
few days at Biarritz, where the shore is not so beautiful as
here, but still prettier than I had thought, and the life is
somewhat more civilized. To my great content, I hear nothing
from Berlin and Paris. I am very much sunburnt, and should have
liked to lie in the sea for an hour. The water buoys me up like
a piece of wood, and it is just cool enough to be pleasant. One
is almost dry by the time one reaches the dressing-hut; then I
put my hat on and take a walk _en peignoir_. Fifty paces off
the ladies bathe, after the custom of the country. The customs
and passport business are infinite, and the tolls incredible,
or I should remain here longer, instead of bathing at Biarritz,
where it is necessary to assume a costume.
* * * * *
Biarritz, 4th Aug., 1862.
I fear that I have made some confusion in our correspondence,
as I have led you to write too early to places where I am not.
It will be better to write to Paris, just as if I were there;
the Embassy will then forward them, and I can give quicker
information then as to any change in my travelling plans. Last
evening I reached Bayonne from St. Sebastian, where I slept for
the night, and am now sitting in a corner room of the Hotel de
l’Europe, with a charming view of the blue sea, which drives
its foam between wonderful cliffs against the lighthouse.
My conscience reproves me for seeing so much that is lovely
without you. Could I bring you here through the air, we would
immediately return to St. Sebastian. Think of the Siebengebirge
with the Drachenfels placed on the sea-shore; next to it
Ehrenbreitstein, and between both an arm of the sea, somewhat
broader than the Rhine, stretching into the land, forming a
round cove behind the mountains. Here one bathes in transparent
clear water, so heavy and salt that one floats, and can look
through the broad rock entrance into the ocean, or landward,
where the mountain chains rise ever higher and more azure. The
women of the middle and lower classes are remarkably pretty,
some of them handsome: the men are surly and uncivil; and the
conveniences of life to which we are accustomed are wanting.
The heat here is not worse than there, and I think nothing of
it—on the contrary, thank God, I am very well. Yesterday there
was a storm, the like of which I have never seen. On a stair
of four steps on the harbor dam I had to try to mount thrice
before I could get up; pieces of stone and halves of trees were
flying through the air. Unfortunately, this led me to retract
my place on a sailing vessel to Bayonne, little thinking that
in four hours all would be quiet and serene. I thus lost a
charming sea passage along the coast, remained another day in
St. Sebastian, and yesterday left in the diligence, somewhat
uncomfortably packed between dainty little Spanish women,
with whom I could not interchange a word. They understood
enough Italian, however, for me to make it clear to them that
I was pleased with their outward appearance. I looked over
a travelling plan this morning, how I could get from here,
_i.e._, Toulouse, by railway, through Marseilles to Nizza, then
by ship to Genoa, thence by Venice, Trieste, Vienna, Breslau,
Posen, Stargard to Cöslin!—if Berlin were only passable. Just
now I can not well get by.
[Illustration]
Luchon, 9th September, 1862.
The day before yesterday we ascended the Col de Venasque from
this place; first two hours through magnificent beech woods,
full of ivy, rocks, and waterfalls; then to a hospice, then
two hours of steep riding on horseback in the snow, with great
views, quiet deep lakes between snow and cliffs, and at a
height of 7500 feet a narrow portal opened in the sharp comb of
the Pyrenees by which Spain is entered. The land of chestnuts
and palms here shows itself as a rocky basin, surrounded by
the Maladetta, which lay before us, Pic de Suavegarde, and Pic
de Picade; to the right rushed the waters to the Ebro, to the
left to the Garonne, and towards the horizon one glacier and
snow-cap after another stared at us, far into Catalonia and
Aragon. There we breakfasted, pressed closely to the rocks—red
partridges without salt and water; and then rode down again
upon giddy declivities, but with splendid weather. Yesterday
we had a similar expedition to Superbagnères and to the gates
of hell (_le gouffre d’enfer_), into the abysses of which a
magnificent waterfall precipitated itself between beeches,
oaks, chestnuts, and ashes. The waterfalls of the Pyrenees are
certainly superior to those of the Alps, although the latter
are decidedly more imposing. To-day we saw the Lake of Oo, a
rock basin like the Obersee, near Berchtesgaden, but animated
by a tremendous waterfall which tumbles into it. We rowed
upon it, singing French _chansonnettes_, alternately with
Mendelssohn—_i.e._, I listened. We then rode home in a pouring
rain, and are now dry again and hungry. No day passes without
being six or eight hours on horseback. To-morrow the jest is
over, and “How so soon it vanishes,” etc., was the order of the
day. To-morrow evening we shall be in Toulouse, where I hope
to find letters from you, _viâ_ Paris. The last I received was
yours of the 29th, sent to me by R. It is my fault, as I had
appointed that they were only to send on from Paris from the
4th, and then to Toulouse. I thought I should have left Luchon
on the 6th, and arrived at T. I know nothing from Berlin; have
not read a newspaper for a fortnight, and my leave is up. I
expect a letter from —— in Toulouse, and that I shall be sent
for to Berlin, without definitive conclusion.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
Toulouse, 12th September, 1862.
By some blunder of my own, and post-office pedantry, I somehow
got into a mess with your letters, and I am very rejoiced and
thankful to receive here your dear letter of the 4th, with
good news. I also anticipated a letter from ——, with some
clear indications of the future, but only got one from ——. I
had no notion of the King’s journey to Doberan and Carlsruhe;
in happy forgetfulness of the world have I ranged mountains
and forests, and am somewhat upset at finding myself, after
six weeks, for the first time in a large city. I am going in
the first instance with —— to Montpellier, and must reflect
whether I shall proceed thence to Paris to make purchases, or
whether I shall accompany —— to Geneva, and thence make direct
for Berlin. My leave is up; —— writes that the King would be
in Carlsruhe on the 9th, but according to your letter it is
the 13th. The best thing would be, if I requested extension of
leave from here for further—weeks to Pomerania, and await the
answer in Paris, as well as the return of the King to Berlin,
before I set out, for certainty is now a necessity, or I shall
send in my resignation. At this moment I am not in a state
to decide; I will first take a walk, and perhaps I shall get
an idea what to do. I wonder my letters have not reached you
regularly. The longest interval I have ever allowed was four
days between my last letter from Luchon and the last but one
from Bayonne, because we were riding every day from morning
till night, eating or sleeping, and paper was not always at
hand. Yesterday was a rainy day, fitted for railway travelling,
bringing us from Montrejeau to this place—new and bad, a flat
country with vines and meadows. I am now writing to —— and ——.
If possible, I shall remain in Paris.
With these letters the Apprentice and Journeyman years of Bismarck are at
an end; the next few days conducted him from Avignon to Berlin, to prove
his Mastership.
Book the Fifth.
MINISTER-PRESIDENT AND COUNT.
[Illustration: Ministerpräsident und Graf.]
CHAPTER I.
THE CRISIS.
The Crisis of 1862.—Bismarck Premier.—The Party of
Progress.—The Liberals.—The Conservatives.—Bismarck’s
Determination.—“_Voilà mon Médecin!_”—Anecdotes.—Attitude
of the Government.—Refusal of the Budget.—Prudence of the
Minister-President.—Official Presentation of Letters of Recall
at Saint Cloud.
Twin-born with the active, restless life and labor so typical of our
modern days, with the rapid course of political events, we note the
natural sisterhood of swift forgetfulness. Most of us would have some
difficulty in forming any thing like a clear picture of the decidedly
involved situation in which Prussia stood in the autumn of 1862. It is
beside our purpose to attempt any definition of this situation here,
without taking into consideration the difficulties surrounding the
solution of such a problem at that time; we must, therefore, content
ourselves with cursory hints and indications.
The Liberal Ministry, which had just resigned, had left the conflict with
the Electoral Chamber of the Diet as an inheritance to the Conservative
Government now in power.
King William did not desire a _coup d’état_; he therefore unweariedly
strove to bring about a good understanding, and found his efforts
seconded throughout this stormy crisis by the loyal zeal and devotion of
the Conservatives as well as the Liberals—especially by his ever-faithful
War Minister General von Roon; but all endeavors, to the deepest sorrow
of the paternal-hearted monarch, proved unavailing.
It was at last necessary to find some guiding Minister, sufficiently
possessed of devotion, energy, daring, and circumspection, to carry on
the business of the State, despite of the crisis, until, in the course of
time, the action of history should have reconciled these fiery opponents.
The choice of the King fell upon his then representative at Paris—upon
Bismarck, who was summoned by telegraph from the Pyrenees to Berlin.
It was well known to King William that the selection of this statesman,
at any rate for the moment, would tend to heighten the sharpness of
the strife; for, in the eyes of his opponents, Bismarck then was, and
long remained, the Hotspur of the Junker party—the fiery and energetic
Conservative party leader. Very few knew to what a statesman Bismarck
had ripened in Frankfurt, where he had thoroughly learnt to know the
fox-trap, so dangerous for Prussia, of German small-statism, with its
innumerable corners and windings; as also in St. Petersburg, where he had
studied under a politician of the first rank, Prince Gortschakoff; and
finally in the hot atmosphere of Paris.
“Bismarck! that is the _coup d’état_!” a democratic organ exclaimed; and
this was re-echoed in an undertone by many Conservatives, who, perhaps,
only saw safety in a _coup d’état_. But Bismarck was by no means a
_coup d’état_, but a statesman; and a statesman in whom the King reposed
confidence.
After long and well-considered deliberation, the King came to this
difficult determination. The appointment of Bismarck, under existing
circumstances, was doubly and trebly difficult, for, though Bismarck was
intelligible enough to him, the majority of the nation did not understand
him, and in every direction, in all circles, and under every political
form, opposition arose, with wild cries of resistance.
[Illustration]
And when he had actually been summoned, the question presented itself on
the other side—What conditions would Bismarck impose? With what programme
would he enter upon the situation?
On this, General von Roon, whom Bismarck had known as a boy, and whom he
had accompanied in surveys through Pomerania, with his little gun, was
sent to meet him. And lo! all this hesitation was perfectly unnecessary;
for the Brandenburg liege faith of Bismarck responded to the appeal of
his feudatory lord with the simple answer: “Here I am!”
Bismarck imposed no conditions, came forward with no programme; the
faithful vassal of Electoral Brandenburg placed himself simply at his
King’s disposal, with that chivalric devotion which contemplates the most
difficult position as self-intelligible. The beloved kingdom of Prussia
had to be upheld against the parliamentary spirit; the new organization
of the army, on which the future of Prussia and Germany depended, had to
be saved; such was the task imposed upon Bismarck.
When Bismarck arrived in Berlin, about the middle of September, 1862, he
found opposite himself the party of progress, almost certain of victory,
clashing onward like a charger with heavy spurs and sword, trampling upon
every thing that came in its path, setting up new scandals every day,
and acting in such a manner that the wiser chiefs of that very party
shook their heads. Besides the party of progress, and partially governed
and towed along by it, was the Liberal party, in the greatest confusion
after their recent amazing catastrophe, but possessed, with the exception
of a minority, of an almost still greater dislike for Bismarck than was
entertained by the Progressists: very easily might this be understood, as
it was this party more than any other that Bismarck had opposed since the
first United Diet.
Bismarck had only the Conservative party in his own favor, but, during
the new era, this had fallen away to an almost vanishing fraction in
the Electoral Chamber; its political activity was maintained only by
the Upper House and by the _Neue Preussische Zeitung_, together with a
portion of the provincial press, and was just then once more beginning
to express its views in a louder tone by the revival of the conservative
associative principle. The new era had shown Conservative politicians
that a Conservative party in Prussia, although possessing perfect
individuality upon single questions, could only as a great whole be a
Government party. “With the Government in courage, without the Government
in sorrow, if needs be against the Government with humility; such is
the path of the Conservative party!” Such was once the fine and proud
axiom of the Conservatives, but only true so far as it concerns special
questions. Conservative Prussia can only go hand in hand with the Royal
Government; but, on the other hand, it is equally certain that a truly
Royal Government in Prussia can only be a Conservative Government.
The proofs to the contrary imported from France or England are not
applicable to the peculiar circumstances of Prussia, and hence act in a
manner productive of confusion.
The support which the Conservative party could then give to Bismarck
was, as it were, that of a vanquished army, and its ranks required
reorganization ere it could be led against the foe. But Conservative
support was tendered voluntarily, and with perfect devotion, even by that
fraction of the party which was piqued with Bismarck since he had, at
Frankfurt, shown a front against Austria, which, indeed, was almost in
open hostility towards him, since he had proposed more friendly relations
with France, had supported the unpopular doctrine of international
interests, and had declared himself for Italy. The acute men of
Hochkirchen, the intelligent representatives of conservative idealism,
the firm pillars of the policy of the Holy Alliance, the enthusiastic
defenders of all legitimacy, from whose ranks Bismarck himself had
emerged, had partly become his antagonists; but at the ominous hour when
he assumed the head of the Government, they did not deny themselves to
him, and “our azure blues,” as the late Baron von Hertefeld used to call
them, in his peculiar tone of admiration and malice, have honestly stood
by Bismarck through difficult years, in the good fight he had fought for
the Prussian monarchy.
What a battle, however, this was may be judged from the fact that many
of the best fellow-soldiers of Bismarck no longer contended for victory,
but, so to speak, sought only a chivalric death. In all Conservative
circles it was everywhere said that the fight was only continued from
a sense of duty: the victory of progress and parliamentarianism over
the old Prussian monarchy was now only a question of time, but it was
necessary to die standing. The last advocates of the Prussian monarchy
at least desired to win the respect of their antagonists. Such was the
phrase of those days; most of them have probably long since forgotten
it, but it is fitting that they should sometimes be reminded of it. In
the year 1863, one of the most zealous personal partisans of Bismarck
determined to accept an important mission offered by him, with the
certain conviction that in so doing he was preparing for an honorable
fall. Certainly there also existed in those days fresh undejected minds
who stood to their imperishable belief in the Prussian monarchy as in an
impregnable fortress, and flung the flag of hope merrily to the breeze;
but of these the number was very small.
Did Bismarck belong to these? Yes. He believed in his Prussian monarchy,
had faith in the future of Prussia and Germany; but he was also perfectly
conscious that he was engaged in a mortal conflict.
He has not publicly expressed himself on this, but several isolated
remarks which he has, in his characteristic manner, let drop to various
friends, place this beyond a doubt. Several times he said—
“Death on the scaffold, under certain circumstances, is as honorable as
death on the battle-field!” and, “I can imagine worse modes of death than
the axe!”
Only six years lie between that time, in which such words were fraught
with such terrible significance, and to-day, when that time seems to us
like a frightful dream; but that it wears such an aspect to us, is due,
under God’s mercy and the valor of King William, to the faithful devotion
and energetic policy of Count Bismarck.
For the rest, Bismarck entered upon office with strong confidence; he
really hoped at first to arrive at some solution of the crisis. All those
who saw or spoke to him in those September or October days, remember the
unwearied bearing and joyful assurance with which he went to work. “He
looks thin, healthy, and sunbrowned, like a man who has traversed the
desert on a dromedary!” was the description given of him by a friend at
the time. At first he thought it not impossible to win over the hostile
party leaders, and he conferred with many of them: whether they were
Liberals or Progressists, in the end they were, at any rate, Prussians.
He appealed to their Prussian patriotism; they could not fail, although
they sought it by different ways to himself, to have their country’s fame
and glory as a common goal. But if they desired the well-being of Prussia
and Germany, they could not but also desire the means to that end—the
newly organized army. No doubt that many of those with whom Bismarck
negotiated, or who were negotiated with by others at his instance,
felt their hearts beating loudly at this appeal; but he succeeded only
in winning a very few. With the majority, the rigid party doctrine
prevailed as an insurmountable barrier; with others, every attempt at
an understanding was rendered unsuccessful by unvanquishable suspicion;
many well understood the hints—and more than hints it was impossible for
Bismarck to give—but they did nothing more. He thus finally attained to
a summation of undeceptions, which did not discourage him, although this
gradually filled his patriotic heart with the deepest sorrow.
But at first, as we have said, he came forward fresh and full of hope;
nor did his first failures and undeceptions disconcert him in any way.
His tone towards his opponents was that of reconciliation. For his
sovereign’s sake he took many a step towards conciliation with sad
reluctance, although without desistance.
His wife, who was residing in Pomerania with her parents, he could
furnish with meagre reports. The lovely season of the “blue” was past,
and the fullness of labor began to increase with rapidity. On the 7th
of October he wrote to her at a session of the House of Deputies in
the following terms:—“I am sitting at the table of the Chamber, with
a speaker, who talks nonsense to me, on the tribune just before me,
and between one explanation just given, and another one I shall have
to give, I write to you to say I am well. Plenty of work—somewhat
tired—not sleep enough—the beginning of all things is difficult. With
God’s help things will go better, and it is very well so, only it is
somewhat uncomfortable, this life on a tray! I dine every day with our
good-natured Roon, who will be a real support for you. I see I have
commenced on the wrong side; I hope it is not a bad omen.” [The letter is
written on the inner side of the paper.] “If I had not R. and the mare I
should feel very lonely, although I am never alone.”
Bismarck was provisionally living at the Ministry of State, in the
“Auerswaldhöhle,” and only moved to the Foreign Office when the family
had returned from Pomerania.
The following letter was also written during those days to his sister.
The Bismarckian humor is likewise to be traced in it:—
Berlin, 18th Oct., 1862.
Such good black-pudding I never ate, and seldom such good
liver; may your slaughtering be blessed: for three days I have
been breakfasting upon the results of it. The cook, Rimpe,
has arrived, and I dine at home alone when I am not at His
Majesty’s table. I got along very well at Paris. At Letzlingen
I shot one stag, one sow, one badger, five brockets, four
head of deer, and blundered tolerably, if, perhaps, not as
much as my neighbors. But the amount of work here is growing
daily. To-day, from eight to eleven, diplomacy; from eleven
to half-past two, various Ministerial squabble conferences;
then, till four, report to the King; from a quarter past to
three-quarters, a gallop in the rain to the Hippodrome; five
o’clock, dinner; from seven till now, ten, work of all sorts.
But health and sound sleep—tremendous thirst!
It ought not, and could not, remain so long. The strong
self-consciousness and feeling of victory with which the Progressist
party advanced—and that in a manner the most abrupt, and sometimes even
personally insulting—could not fail to convince Bismarck, that he would
not succeed in solving the crisis. He had now to resolve to leave—in
accordance with the King’s will—time to solve matters, but, despite of
this, to continue, within the constitution, to conduct the Government.
With a firm step he pursued this difficult path, and he was able to
inspire others with his confidence. Yes; even King William, whose gentle
heart suffered severely in this arena of contention, refreshed himself
at his Minister’s sure bearing—so much so, that on one occasion, when a
lovely Russian princess was congratulating him on his healthy appearance,
he pointed to Bismarck, and replied, “_Voilà mon médecin_!”
An old acquaintance, who met Bismarck at this time, and asked him how
he was, received for reply, “How should I be? You know how I love to be
lazy, and how I have to work!”
The chief of one of the numerous deputations of those days, at which
opponents mocked so much as loyalty deputations, although they were of
no little significance, was introduced to Bismarck. He summed up the
personal impression which the Minister-President made upon him, in his
singing Saxon dialect, in the admiring phrase:—“D’ye hear! one can’t talk
nonsense when one meets that man!”
“Then I suppose you’ve never been in the Chamber?” the Berlin friends of
the worthy inhabitant of Wettin, or Löbejühn, observed in reply.
[Illustration]
It is certainly evidence in favor of Bismarck’s conciliating tendency,
that at a session of the Commission he took a twig from his pocket-book
and showed it to his antagonists, merrily adding, in a chatty way,
that he had plucked this olive-branch at Avignon to present it to the
Progressist party in token of peace; but he unfortunately had been forced
to learn there that the time for that had not yet arrived.
On the 29th September, 1862, he announced the withdrawal of the budget
for 1863, “because the Government considered it their duty not to allow
the obstacles towards a settlement to increase in volume.” He then
announced his intentions, his aims, as clearly as he dared. “The conflict
has been too tragically understood,” he said, “and too tragically
represented by the press; the Government sought no contest. If the crisis
could be honorably surmounted, the Government would gladly lend a hand.
It was owing to the great obstinacy of individuals that it was difficult
to govern with the constitution in Prussia. A constitutional crisis was
no disgrace, it was an honor. We are, perhaps, too cultured to endorse
a constitution; we are too critical. Public opinion changed; the press
was not public opinion; it was well known how the press was upheld. The
Deputies had the task of determining its opinions, and to stand above it.
Germany does not contemplate the Liberalism of Prussia, but her power.
Bavaria, Würtemberg, and Baden might indulge Liberalism; but they are
not therefore called upon to play the part of Prussia. Prussia must hold
her power together for the favorable opportunity which has already been
sometimes neglected; the frontiers of Prussia were not favorable to a
good State constitution. The great questions of the day were not to be
decided by speeches and majorities—this had been the error of 1848 and
1849—but by iron and blood!”
But the Opposition understood this frank language so little, that there
was nothing more than plenty of jesting about the iron-and-blood policy,
without end.
When the Chamber answered these conciliating steps with the
resolutions of the 7th October, by which all expenditure was declared
unconstitutional if declined by the national representatives, Bismarck
replied with this cutting declaration:—
“According to this resolution, the Royal Government can not for the
present anticipate any result from the continuance of its attempts to
arrive at some settlement, but rather expect from any renewal of the
negotiation a heightening of party differences, which would render any
understanding in the future more difficult.”
On the next day, the 8th of October, 1862, Bismarck, who had been named
Minister of State and President of the Ministry, _ad interim_, on the 23d
September, was appointed President of the Ministry of State and Minister
of Foreign Affairs.
On the 13th of October the session of the Diet was closed, and on this
occasion Bismarck again took an opportunity of expressing his views
on his position with great moderation and gentleness. He said:—“The
Government is perfectly aware of the responsibility which has arisen from
this lamentable crisis; but, at the same time, it is also observant of
the duties it owes to the country, and in this finds itself strengthened
to press for the supplies—until the State is settled—necessary for
existing State institutions and the furtherance of the common weal,
being assured that, at the proper time, they will receive the subsequent
sanction of the Diet.”
This was the beginning of the loudly-assailed “budgetless” Government;
at the present day, no one will deny that this was precisely the mildest
form of opposition. A budget had certainly not come into existence,
but the Government was conscientiously carried on according to the
principles of the constitution, as the King desired. It was a severe and
endless battle which now ensued—a strife wearying both body and soul; but
the Government never appealed to physical force; it was a war of opinions
and convictions, a war of intellectual weapons, such as had never been
seen in the political region of the world’s history, and such as was
really only possible in Prussia.
[Illustration]
Perhaps this is the most fitting place to draw attention to one point of
Bismarck’s policy, that to us does not seem to have been sufficiently
valued in general, but which at the same time is highly characteristic
of Bismarck’s method; we allude to the great prudence with which he ever
upheld the Sovereignty itself above the conflict. Certainly he fought
for the Prussian monarchy, on which depended the future of Prussia and
Germany; but the conflict was between him, between the State Government
and the Chamber of Deputies, not between the Crown and the Diet, still
less between the King and the people. If the King could have dispensed
with the reorganization, it was only necessary to dismiss Bismarck, and
the crisis existed no longer. Bismarck was personally identified with the
crisis; in this he might fall, but the Crown remained perfectly secure.
But in such devotion the constitutional fiction of the irresponsibility
of the King had no part whatever; it was the Brandenburg vassal’s lealty
which covered the feudatory lord with its knightly shield. At the end
of October, Bismarck again went to Paris, to take an official leave
at the Tuileries; on the 1st of November he had his farewell audience
of the Emperor Napoleon at Saint Cloud. It could scarcely have failed
that the conversation turned upon the great task, the accomplishment of
which Bismarck had so courageously undertaken. Napoleon had then but
little belief in success, and probably pointed to the fate of Prince
Polignac. Bismarck, however, was fully aware of the difference between
the situations of 1830 in France, and 1862 in Prussia.
Immediately after the audience he returned to Berlin.
CHAPTER II.
THE MAN AT THE HELM.
Negotiations with Austria.—Circular of the 24th of January,
1863.—Conversation with Count Karolyi.—Prusso-Russian
Convention.—The Party of Progress.—Congress of
Princes.—Conditions of Prussia.—War in the Distance.—The
Danish Campaign.—Treaty of Gastein, 14th August,
1865.—Bismarck elevated to the Rank of Count.—Bismarck and
Pauline Lucca.—Correspondence with his Family.—Hunting at
Schönbrunn.—Biarritz.
[Illustration]
The action of history would not fail to solve the conflict, but this
was only possible if Prussia entered energetically on this action; and
thus we see Bismarck, the man at the helm, steering the Prussian vessel
of State, undismayed by the daily attacks of the Progressists, through
shallows and rocks, firmly and safely towards open water, on which,
driven by the breath of God into history, it was to fly in full sail
towards the sunrise of victory.
Immediately after assuming the Ministry, in December, 1862, Bismarck
entered upon negotiations with Austria. If Austria could decide upon
the dismissal of that enemy of Prussian policy, Schwarzenberg, and give
Prussia her proper position in Germany and thus insure the same to
Germany as her right. Bismarck was prepared to enter into a coalition
with Austria; but if Austria could not rise to such a policy, Prussia was
determined alone to give the _coup de grace_ to the unhealthy, troubled
state of things which lay like an Alp on German life, thus terminate
the unnatural hesitation, and create for Germany a new and healthy body
corporate.
With perfect frankness, as was his peculiar wont, Bismarck explained
himself to Austria. The latter was at this time engaged with the project
of the so-called delegations to the Bund, i.e., with a reform which was
no reform, but an entirely meaningless absurdity, not even an apparent
something.
In the famous circular dispatch of the 24th of January, 1863, Bismarck
says:—
“In order to bring about a better understanding of the two Courts, I took
the initiative in the form of negotiations with Count Karolyi, in which
I brought the following considerations under the notice of the Imperial
Ambassador. According to my convictions, our relations to Austria _must
unavoidably change for the better or the worse_. It is the sincere wish
of the Royal Government that the former alternative should arise; but if
we should not be met by the Imperial Cabinet with the necessary advances
as we could desire, it will be _necessary for us to contemplate the other
alternative, and prepare for it accordingly_.
“I have reminded Count Karolyi that, during the decennial period
preceding the events of 1848, there had been a tacit understanding
between the two high Powers, by virtue of which Austria was insured the
support of Prussia on European questions, and, on the other hand, allowed
us to exercise an influence in Germany, unfettered by the opposition of
Austria, as manifested by the formation of the Customs Union. By these
arrangements the German Diet rejoiced in a degree of internal unity
and outward dignity, which has not since then been reached. I have not
alluded to the question as to whose error it was that analogous relations
were not re-established on the reconstitution of the Diet, as I was
concerned, not with recriminations for the past, but with a practical
development of the present time. In the latter we find, in those very
States with which Prussia, by her geographical position, is interested in
maintaining special friendly relations, an opposing influence, promoted
by the Imperial Cabinet, with signal results. I put it strongly to Count
Karolyi, that Austria in this manner might, perhaps, win the sympathies
of the governments of those States, but would estrange from herself those
of Prussia, to the detriment of the common interests of the Diet. The
Imperial Ambassador consoled himself with the certainty that, in the
event of any war dangerous to Austria, the two greater powers would,
under any circumstances, be found together again as allies.
“_In this assumption_, according to my view, there exists a _dangerous
error_, which may, perhaps, not become apparent until the decisive
moment, with a fatal clearness for both Cabinets, and I therefore
besought Count Karolyi _urgently_ to use all his powers to contradict
this in Vienna. I pointed out that already, in the last Italian war, the
alliance had not been so valuable to Austria as it might have been if
the two powers had not, during the preceding eight years, contended with
each other in the field of German politics, in a manner only conclusively
advantageous to a third party, and so undermined all mutual confidence.
Nevertheless, the fact that Prussia did not seek for any advantage in
consequence of the difficulties of Austria in 1859, but rather armed to
assist Austria in need, clearly shows the results of the _former more
intimate_ relations. But should these last not be renewed and revivified,
_Prussia would, under similar circumstances, be as little debarred
from contracting an alliance with an antagonist of Austria_, as, under
opposite circumstances, from forming a faithful and firm alliance with
Austria, against common enemies. _I, at least_, as I did not conceal from
Count Karolyi, _under such circumstances could never advise my gracious
Sovereign to neutrality_. Austria is free to choose whether she prefers
to continue her present anti-Prussian policy, with the leverage of the
coalition of the Central States, or would seek an honest union with
Prussia. That the latter may be the result, is my most sincere desire.
This can, however, only be obtained by the abandonment of Austria’s
inimical policy at the German Courts.
“Count Karolyi replied that the Imperial House could not relinquish
her traditional influences on the German Governments. I denied the
existence of any such tradition by pointing out that _Hanover_ and
_Hesse_ had, for a hundred years—from the commencement of the Seven
Years’ War—been principally guided by Prussian influences; and that, at
the epoch of Prince Metternich, the same States had also been guided from
Vienna, specially in the interest of the understanding between Prussia
and Austria; consequently that the assumed tradition of the Austrian
Imperial House _dated only from the time of Prince Schwarzenberg_, and
the system to which it pertained has not hitherto shown itself conducive
to the consolidation of the German Confederation. I laid stress upon the
fact that, on my arrival in Frankfurt, in 1851, after circumstantial
conversations with Prince Metternich, then residing at Johannisberg, I
had anticipated that Austria herself would see the wisdom of a policy
which would obtain us a position in the German Confederation, consonant
with the interest of Prussia to throw all her strength into the common
cause. Instead of that, Austria has striven to embitter and impede our
position in the German Confederation, and, in point of fact, to force us
to seek for allies in other directions. The whole treatment of Prussia
on the part of the Vienna Cabinet seems to rest upon the assumption that
we, more than any other State, are fully exposed to _foreign attacks_,
against which we need _foreign assistance_, and that hence we are bound
to put up with _contemptuous treatment_ from those States from whom we
expect aid. The task of a Prussian Government, having the interests
of the Royal House and of the country at heart, would therefore be,
_to prove the erroneousness of this assumption by deeds_, if words and
aspirations are neglected.
“Our dissatisfaction with the condition of things in the Confederation
has received fresh aliment during the last few months, from the obstinacy
with which the German Governments more closely allied with Austria have
_offensively stood out against Prussia_ on the delegate question. Before
1848 it had been unheard of that questions of any magnitude should
have been introduced in the Confederation, without the concurrence of
the two great Powers previously being secured. Even in cases where the
opposition had come from the less powerful States, as in the matter of
the South German fortresses, it had been preferred to allow objects of
such importance and urgency to remain unfulfilled for years, rather than
seek to overcome opposition by means of a _majority_. At the present day,
however, the _opposition of Prussia_, not only to a proposal in itself,
but in reference to its _unconstitutionality_, is treated as _an incident
undeserving of notice_, by which no one should be prevented from pursuing
a given progress in a deliberately chosen course. I urged upon Count
Karolyi to communicate the contents of the preceding conference to Count
Rechberg with the utmost accuracy, although in a confidential sense,
expressing at the same time my conviction that the wounds sustained by
our mutual relations _can only be healed by unreserved sincerity_.
“The second conversation took place on the 13th of December of last year,
a few days after the former, in consequence of a dispatch of the Royal
Ambassador at the Federal Diet. I visited Count Karolyi in order _to draw
his attention to the serious state of things at the Diet_, and did not
conceal from him that the further advance of the majority in a course
regarded by us as _unconstitutional_, would bring us into a position
_we could not accept_, and that in the consequences of it we _foresaw
the violation of the Confederation_; that Herr von Usedom had left the
Freiherr von Kübeck and Baron von der Pfordten in scarcely any doubt as
to the construction which we placed upon the matter, but had received
replies to his intimations whence we could draw no inferences as to any
wish for a compromise, as Freiherr von der Pfordten pressed strenuously
for a speedy delivery of our minority vote.
“Upon this I objected that, under such circumstances, a feeling of our
own dignity would not admit of our _evading_ any longer the conflict
induced by the other side, and that I had therefore telegraphed the
Royal Ambassador to deposit his minority vote. I indicated that _passing
over the border of legitimate competency by resolutions of the majority,
would be regarded by us as a breach of the federal treaties_, and that
_we should mark our sense of the fact_ by the _withdrawal_ of the Royal
Ambassador to the Diet, without nominating any successor; and I drew
attention to the _practical_ consequences likely to ensue upon such a
situation in a _comparatively short time_, as it would naturally occur
that the _activity of an assembly_, in which, from just causes, we no
longer took part, would be regarded by us as inauthoritative on the whole
business sphere of the Diet.
...
“A few days after this I was confidentially informed that the Imperial
Austrian Ambassador at St. Petersburg (Count Thun) was about to return
to his post by way of Berlin, and would confer with me upon the pending
question. When he arrived, I did not hesitate, despite the recently named
lamentable experiences of an endeavor to meet his communications—made for
the purpose of some understanding—in the most straightforward manner. I
therefore declared myself ready to enter upon different projects, agreed
between us, for the settlement of the Frankfurt difficulties.... On this
Count Thun proposed to me that an interview between Count Rechberg and
myself should be arranged, with a view of a further discussion of the
matter. I declared myself ready to meet him, but in the next few days
received from Count Karolyi confidential communications, according to
which, Count Rechberg anticipated, before our interview, the declaration
of my adhesion to the reform project in the Diet, regarding which, in my
opinion, it was necessary to have longer and more minute negotiations. As
the time extending up to the 22d of December was too short for these, I
presumed that it was only possible to employ the proposed conference for
the consideration of previous and binding treaties.... As Count Rechberg
hereupon declared that Austria could not give up the further negotiation
of the project in reference to the assembly of delegates without some
assured equivalent, the interview until this time has not taken place.”
Clearly as it is here stated, so it happened with all negotiations.
Prussia ever sought to go hand-in-hand with Austria, but Austria
ever evaded the opportunity. She alleged that it was her intention
to pursue her German policy alone, in her solitary path—the way of
Schwarzenberg—which was to lead, over the entire insignificance of
Germany, to the humiliation and oppression of Prussia. Of course Prussia
then had no other alternative than to follow its own mission its own
way. To this period belongs the conclusion of the Prusso-Russian treaty
on the common measures to be pursued for the suppression of the Polish
insurrection. This Convention, by which the friendly relations of Prussia
and Russia were confirmed, has been frequently and unintentionally
misinterpreted. The internal meaning of this, and its reaction, require
some further explanation which it is not desirable at present to give.[45]
The diplomatic campaign, which the other Powers commenced at the instance
of the Convention, it is well known, had no result, and was lost in the
sands.
But the saddest figure in this business was played by the party of
progress, who, in their blind zeal, had seized upon the Convention,
on the plea that Prussia by this would become nothing higher than an
outpost of Russia. The idea of such a baseless absurdity—had it been
so—would have been laughable, if it had not been too sad to see that the
opposition to Prussia abroad had again been instigated by an allied party
in the actual Prussian camp. This, however, unfortunately was doomed to
be frequently repeated on later occasions.
In the summer of 1863 Bismarck had accompanied his King to Carlsbad,
and thence to Gastein, when Austria emerged with her new and useless
projects of reorganization, in which there was a tinge and tendency of
the inoperative Federal principle, as opposed to Prussian Unionistic
efforts. King William received the invitation to the Congress of Princes
at Gastein, and the Emperor Francis Joseph himself personally handed him
a minute memorial on these projects of reform. This contained, although
of course it was not acknowledged by Austria, very little more than the
project of delegates long since opposed by Prussia, and which in no way
could content the pretensions of Prussia or the wants of the German
people.
King William, who had gone with his Premier from Gastein, by way of
Munich and Stuttgart, to Baden-Baden, declined to attend the Princes’
Congress at Frankfurt, which was then put up upon the scene with skill
worthy of recognition, even with taste, but had not the slightest
result, although the princes present at it had accepted the fundamental
principles of the Austrian project.
And how came it that this illustrious princely congress should have
departed to Orcus without any lamentation, so that in only a few weeks no
one ever mentioned it again? Simply because Prussia had taken no part in
it.
In Vienna it had been thought that Prussia would have been carried
away by it. When that proved unsuccessful, withdrawal was thought
undesirable, and every one had to learn, by bitter experience, that
nothing was possible in Germany without Prussia. Prussia, as usual, had
been undervalued, and thus it was revenged; but, nevertheless, Prussia
continued to be slightly esteemed, and the vengeance was to be still
greater.
At the present time, the simplest eyes can see that the rivalry of
Prussia and Austria was now first coming into public sight, ere it was
possible to think of any reconstruction of Germany. Austria had declined
all the propositions of Prussia, which aimed essentially at a peaceable
separation of Austria from the German Federation, and led to a federal
union of the newly constructed union, under the leadership of Prussia,
with Austria, but had replied with the Reform Act, containing within
itself a nullification of Prussia. Austria, and the Central States allied
with her, had given Prussia the alternatives of unconditional submission,
immediate nullification, or the exclusion of herself from the new
Federation.
Prussia, with quiet dignity, perfected this act of self-exclusion; and,
lo! matters did not go on, and the Viennese Reform Act was a blank.
In his report to the King’s Majesty of the 15th of September, 1863, and
in the Royal reply to the members of the Princes’ Congress on the 22d of
the same month, Bismarck promulgated a series of “preliminary conditions”
as to the part Prussia might take in further negotiations.
He demanded—1. The “veto of Prussia and Austria at least upon every
federal war _not undertaken in resistance of an attack_ upon _federal
territory_;” 2. The “entire _equality_ of Prussia with Austria in the
presidency and government of federal concerns;” and 3. “A national
representation, not to consist of delegates, but of _directly chosen
representatives_, in the ratio of the populations of single States,
_the powers of which, in resolution_, should, _in any case, be more
extensive_ than those in the project for the Frankfurt Reform Act.”
As a plea for this condition he especially insisted, in his report to
the King, that “the interests and requirements of the Prussian people
were essentially and indissolubly identical with those of the _German
people, wherever this element attained its true construction and value;
Prussia never need fear_ to be drawn into any policy adverse to her
own interests.” Besides these three points, he also maintained that
the “German sovereigns” were bound either “to learn the opinion of the
_nation itself_ by the _means of chosen representatives_, or to adduce
the _constitutional sanction of the Diets of each individual State_.”
But that Bismarck had fully understood the final and actual ends of the
Austro-Central policy, may be seen from the following sentence of his
report to the King’s Majesty:—
“In the entirely remarkable attitude observed by Austria in this
transaction, it is impossible to avoid the impression that apparently the
Imperial Austrian Cabinet _from the commencement contemplated, not the
co-operation of Prussia_ in the common enterprise, but the _realization
of a separate federation as an end_, already visible in the first
propositions of the 3d of August, _in case_ that Prussia would not _join
in_ the Austrian plans.”
There can be no doubt that Bismarck, by his firm attitude towards the
Congress of Princes and the Austro-Central policy, has not only saved
the future of Prussia, but also that of Germany. At that time people
were so confused and dazzled that it was not at all seen. The small
fights in the Chamber had robbed people of any understanding of the great
things there accomplished. Bismarck was plainly of opinion that war was
imminent, as may be clearly read from the report on which he founded the
dissolution of the Electoral Chamber of the Diet. It is here said:—“On
the basis of the German Federal Constitution _attempts_ have come to
light, the _unmistakable object_ of which is to set down such a power of
the Prussian State in Germany and in Europe, which forms a well-earned
heritage of the glorious history of our fathers, and which the _Prussian
people has not at any time resolved to allow to be alienated from it_.
Under these circumstances, it will be a necessity for his Majesty’s
subjects at the same time to give _expression to the fact_, at the
forthcoming elections, that no _political difference of opinion_ is so
deeply rooted in our country that, _in the face of an attempt to bring
down the independence and dignity of Prussia_, the unity of the nation
and its unalterable fidelity to the governing house can be shaken.”
Perhaps they in the camp of Austria and its allies reckoned on—decidedly
they believed in—war; and war certainly came at the time, but in
a remarkable way, not between Prussia and Austria, but, to the
inexpressible surprise of the world, Prussia and Austria, hand-in-hand as
allies, took the field against Denmark.
It is utterly impossible clearly to state how Bismarck succeeded in
inducing Austria to enter upon this war, how he managed to get their old
rival to draw the sword for Prussia’s interest, in exact contradiction to
her entire previous policy. It is quite true to say that the energetic
initiative of Bismarck carried away Austria with him, but the matter does
not grow at all clearer for that. It is also not inexact, most certainly,
to affirm that Austrian diplomacy might assert that she was obliged to
join, in order to watch over Prussia and bridle her; but it was by no
means false when the Viennese exclaimed, “That Bismarck drags us by the
halter!” when Austria went into Holstein, to Schleswig, to Jütland, in
the interest of Prussia and Germany. No doubt the magic of Austria’s
burning desire to retrieve the Imperial army’s lost prestige, after the
misfortune of 1859, contributed to this political wonder—the desire of
hanging fresh laurels on the black and yellow standard. Such a crown
the warriors of Austria honestly won there in the North. Perhaps the
circumstance that the Emperor of Austria always felt a friendly feeling
towards Bismarck personally, had additional influence; and there might be
a not altogether groundless feeling in existence that the conservative
policy of Bismarck was not unlikely in some way to exert a favorable
influence in Austria. It is said that on one occasion the Emperor Francis
Joseph involuntarily exclaimed, when Bismarck was severely blamed in his
presence, “Ah! if _I_ but had him!”
If, however, Bismarck thus led Austria to the North as the ally of
Prussia, and thus prevented interferences from other quarters, he also
created new difficulties for himself in the sequence of events, which
were to assume far higher proportions than they usually assumed. He knew
very well that, after the victory over Denmark, the old quarrel with
Austria would break out again—must break out again; nor could he have
omitted to see that a victorious war, carried on in conjunction with
Austria, could not fail mightily to increase all kinds of sympathies
possessed by Austria in the army, and in conservative Prussia. The deep
abhorrence against any rupture with Austria which Bismarck had to combat
in his own camp, emerged still more into light after the war in a more
animated way, and rendered his position more difficult from day to day.
All the traditions of glorious alliance of the great period of the War
of Freedom had become revivified in the hut as in the palace, and they
possessed real power; for it is an unquestionable fact that Austria would
be the best ally for Prussia from that moment when it determines to allow
Prussia to take her proper position in Germany without malice or envy. It
was the destiny of Germany that Austria could not resolve to give Prussia
what was Prussia’s right; Bismarck’s great political task, however, was
to compel the surrender from Austria of that which is the meed of Prussia
and Germany.
That, however, to which we have alluded, could only become of value
after victory. In the beginning of the Danish campaign it passed only as
a fresh breeze through the sultry political atmosphere of Prussia. The
Progressist party certainly continued in their inimical position, but the
people themselves began to see daylight; those minds not entirely blinded
by political passion gradually obtained some glimpse of the meaning of
Bismarck. The cannon storm of Missunde had awakened Prussian patriotism;
Prussia had never been deaf when the royal trumpet sounded to battle, and
the Prussian heart has ever stirred when the eagle standards have been
unfolded. This should, however, be attributed to the advantage of the
Minister whose policy led to the battle-field and the victory.[46]
When Prince Frederick Charles had planted Prussia’s standard victoriously
on the walls of Düppel in April, 1864, King William himself went to the
North to honor his brave warriors. On this triumphant progress Bismarck
accompanied him, and there he might have learnt that he was no longer the
universally hated Minister-President, but that this victory had greatly
increased the number of those who honored him.
In the summer of the same year he accompanied his royal master to
Carlsbad, and at this time he put the new companionship of Austria to a
severe trial. Saxon and Hanoverian troops then held the Duchy of Holstein
in the name of the German Confederation. It is fortunate for us that we
need not enter any farther upon the terrible Schleswig-Holstein question.
Bismarck considered it necessary to remove the Saxons and Hanoverians
from the Duchies, which Prussia and Austria had won with the sword, and
that at the peace of Vienna had been ceded to Prussia and Austria by
Denmark. By the removal of the troops of the Central States the matter
was much simplified, and the question brought a step nearer to solution.
It was to be expected that Austria, considering her secret treaties
with the Central States, would receive this step with very evil grace;
but Bismarck put it into execution, and on the Austrian side it was
allowed to be carried out, although the press was enraged at it—of which
Bismarck, who went from Carlsbad through Prague to Vienna, and then to
Gastein, was well aware on his journey.
From Gastein Bismarck returned in the King’s train, at the invitation of
the Emperor of Austria, to Vienna, where he took a share in the great
hunting-parties in the wild park, and had reason to congratulate himself
on his skill. On this visit he was received with great distinction by the
Emperor Francis Joseph, and received from him the Exalted Order of St.
Stephen.
From Vienna he accompanied the King to Baden, and then went to his
peaceful Reinfeld in Pomerania, but returned again to Baden before going
to Biarritz, where he took sea-baths up till November. After a short stay
in Paris he returned to Berlin. Here he resumed his old battle with the
party of progress, whose hatred against the Minister-President, as may be
very readily understood, grew more intense as he showed himself the more
distinguished and greater.
[Illustration: BISMARCK’S ESTATE IN FARTHER POMERANIA.]
After this “elegantly” conducted war—which was at once an experiment
on the newly reorganized army and the needle-gun, and had roused the
patriotically warlike, _i.e._, the real, spirit of Prussia, the King
invested his Minister-President with the highest mark of honor Prussia
can bestow—the Exalted Order of the Black Eagle. Among those who felt
obliged epistolarily to congratulate Bismarck on this well-earned
distinction, was his former preceptor, the Director, Dr. Bonnell. One
evening Bismarck called on him personally to thank him; he sat pleasantly
chatting with Bonnell’s family at the tea-table. In his decisive manner
he related a great deal about Biarritz, where he had enjoyed himself
thoroughly; lightly alluded to the numerous threatening letters and
warnings of assassination with which he had been incommoded, but which
he despised, as no political party had ever yet received any benefit
from murder. He then related a dream which he had had in Biarritz. In
this dream he thought he ascended a mountain path which continually grew
narrower, until he found himself before a wall of rock, and beside him a
deep abyss. For an instant he paused, thinking whether he should retrace
his steps; but he then made up his mind and struck the wall with his
cane, on which it immediately disappeared, and his road was free again.
After talking of many things in old and new times, he rose and said, “I
must go now, or my wife will be uneasy again.”
“Dreams are seems,” says the proverb, but perhaps not always, and at the
present time every one knows what the wall was which vanished before
Bismarck’s blow.
The following year, 1865, arrived. By the Vienna peace of the 30th
October, 1864, the Duchies of Holstein and Schleswig were ceded to
Prussia and Austria—that is to say, they had returned whither they
belonged, to Germany. This was, however, especially the result of
the daring and skillful policy of Bismarck, for such a conquest was
quite against the intention and desire of Austria. It was necessary
now to deal with this acquisition, and it soon appeared that Austria
was about to substitute, in place of the great national policy of
Bismarck, the ultimate end of which was very openly expressed—to have
a German Confederation under the leadership of Prussia—the wretched
detail of a new Schleswig-Holstein minor state. No doubt that in such
a policy Austria only thought of contravening Bismarck’s German
policy—of rendering the realization of the Bismarck thought of union
an impossibility. Nor was it remarkable that the Central States did
not support the policy of Bismarck, as they would certainly have to
sacrifice a part of that sovereignty they had so recently acquired to the
nation, if Bismarck’s policy should prove victorious. These sovereigns
could not determine to recede to the position they had so long held as
German Princes of the Empire; they desired to assert their apparent
sovereignty, and they were unable to perceive, that in case Austria
should prevail, they would become Austria’s vassals at the expense of
the German nation—at the price of Germany’s future. It was in vain that
Bismarck exerted himself at the Federation, as well as at the German
Courts, to introduce more healthy opinions—he could not get forward; and
the continually abrupter forms in which Austria acted in the conquered
Duchies, admitted of no doubt on his part that the Viennese politicians,
with the whole of their partisans in Germany, were determined to force
Prussia to submission; to the abandonment of her saving union policy, to
the acceptance of the Austrian Federation—in fact, to her humiliation and
dependence.
It was sad enough that Austria, in her inimical action, also reckoned
upon the internal conflict in Prussia, which was the more zealously
stimulated, in proportion as it became clear to the party of progress
that the heart of the nation was more and more turning to the statesman
who fought his victories, to the greater fame of Prussia and happiness
of Germany, upon a field whither they were unable to follow him—upon the
field of honor and of deeds. Of what use in the end was it, that they
succeeded in victoriously maintaining, by their high-spiced speeches, a
majority in the Chamber against the Ministry—that they embittered the
daily life of Bismarck and the other Ministers—and rendered their labors
more disagreeable, if this Ministry, despite of all, went victoriously on
in the world’s history?—and that Bismarck, though he might not get the
votes of the majority, won the hearts of the people?
We have no doubt that Bismarck, in the summer of 1865, already believed
the hour of the great battle between Prussia and Austria to have arrived,
and that he was determined to stand up manfully for his sound policy,
and with this conviction we arrive at a great riddle—the episode of
Gastein.
Bismarck had accompanied the King, in the summer of 1865, to Carlsbad,
thence to Gastein and Salzburg, and so to the Emperor of Austria at Ischl.
The deepest veil of secrecy still covers the events which there took
place; it is true the historian, A. Schmidt,[47] assures us that
already, on the 15th of July, Bismarck, at Carlsbad, had said to the
French Ambassador at the Court of Vienna, the Duc de Grammont, that he
considered war between Prussia and Austria to be unavoidable—even that
it had become a necessity. But this is unquestionably untrue—as untrue
as the further statement of the same historian, that Bismarck, on the
23d July, said openly to the Prime Minister of the King of Bavaria, the
Freiherr von der Pfordten, that “in his firm opinion war between Prussia
and Austria was _very likely and close at hand_. It was a question, as
the matter appeared to him, of a _duel_ between Austria and Prussia only.
The rest of Germany might stand by and contemplate this duel as _passive
spectators_. Prussia had never contemplated, _and even now did not think
of extending its power beyond the line of the Maine_. The _settlement of
the controversy_ would not long have to be awaited. _One blow—one pitched
battle—and Prussia would be in the position to dictate conditions._
The most urgent need of the Central States was to range themselves on
her side. _Neutrality_, even that of Saxon soil, would be observed by
Prussia. A localization of the war, and that localization confined
to Silesia, was not only determined, but, according to the already
ascertained opinions of the most competent military authorities, it was
possible. The Central States, in addition to this, by the proclamation of
neutrality, were an additional means towards securing this centralization
of the war. Bavaria ought, however, to weigh well the fact that she was
the natural heir of the position of Austria in South Germany.”
What Bismarck really might have said to Freiherr von der Pfordten is not
recognizable in this acceptation at all.
On the 14th of August the treaty of Gastein was concluded, which divided
the co-domination of Prussia and Austria in Holstein and Schleswig. This
treaty compelled Austria to leave the Central States a second time in an
ambiguous position; the Central States might have learned from the fact
how little really was cared for them at Vienna. This knowledge they had
dearly to pay for a year later!
What could have induced Bismarck to conclude this truce—for the treaty
of Gastein was nothing else? Who can positively say? To the present time
it is an enigma not yet solved. Did military exigencies influence the
matter? was the season too far advanced? did European politics stand in
the way? or the unconcluded negotiations with Italy? was there a threat
of intervention on the other side? had the old sympathies for Austria
in Prussia, so greatly stimulated by the recent common campaign, to be
respected? did King William follow up the old traditional partiality for
Austria? did the King and his Minister wish to give Austria a last term
of grace, hoping that Viennese politics might change at the twelfth hour?
or did the purchase of the Duchy of Lauenburg afford any loophole of
escape?
Perhaps all these questions should be answered in the affirmative. As a
matter of fact, the treaty became a last experiment, as to whether it
was possible for Prussia to go hand-in-hand with Austria. It must not,
however, be forgotten that this much-deprecated treaty was very favorable
to Prussia. Despite the co-domination, Prussia already, by geographical
position, remained master in the Duchies, and was always stronger.
From Austria, Bismarck went with the King, by way of Munich and
Frankfurt, to the Rhine, visited Baden-Baden and Homburg, attended the
great review in the province of Saxony, near Merseburg, and then set out
for the Duchy of Lauenburg, the special Minister of which he is, and
finally sought for recreation at Biarritz.
On the 15th September, 1865, he was raised to the rank of a Prussian
Count.
A short time after he had returned to Berlin by way of Paris he was taken
ill, and remained an invalid throughout the winter, although he carried
on business during the whole time with his accustomed energy.
To this period belongs a little episode, which we should not mention
at all, did it not show very thoroughly how idle it is to trust rumor,
and had, on the other hand, given Bismarck an opportunity to write a
letter to his old friend André von Roman, which soon appeared in the
Berlin newspapers. A photographer at Gastein had issued a picture of
Count Bismarck, and beside him the royal singer, Pauline Lucca. At this
conjunction many friends of Bismarck were very angry; all sorts of
nonsense was talked on the matter, and at last M. André felt himself
compelled to write to Bismarck about it. Bismarck thus replied:—
Berlin, 26th December, 1865.
DEAR ANDRÉ,—Although my time is very much taken up, I can
not refrain from replying to an interpellation made by an
honest heart, in the name of Christ. I am very sorry if I
offend believing Christians, but I am certain that this is
unavoidable for me in my vocation. I will not say that in the
camps politically opposed to me there are doubtless numerous
Christians far in advance of me in the way of grace, and with
whom, by reason of what is terrestrial to us in common, I am
obliged to live at war; I will only refer to what you yourself
say.
“In wider circles nought of deeds or idleness remains concealed.”
What man breathes who in such a position must not give offense,
justly or unjustly? I will even admit more, for your expression
as to concealment is not accurate. I would to God that, besides
what is known to the world, I had not other sins upon my soul,
for which I can only hope for forgiveness in a confidence upon
the blood of Christ! As a statesman, I am not sufficiently
disinterested; in my own mind I am rather cowardly, and that
because it is not easy always to get that clearness on the
questions coming before me, which grows upon the soil of divine
confidence. Whoever calls me an unconscientious politician does
me injustice; he should try his own conscience first himself
upon this arena. As to the Virchow business, I am beyond the
years in which any one takes counsel in such matters from flesh
and blood; if I set my life on any matter, I do it in the
same faith in which I have, by long and severe strife, but in
honest and humble prayer to God, strengthened myself, and in
which no human words, even if spoken by a friend in the Lord
and a servant of His Church, can alter me. As to attendance at
church, it is untrue that I never visit the house of God. For
seven months I have been either absent or ill; who therefore
can have observed me? I admit freely that it might take place
more frequently, but it is not owing so much to want of time,
as from a care for my health, especially in winter; and to
those who feel themselves justified to be my judges in this, I
will render an account—they will believe, even without medical
details. As to the Lucca photograph, you would probably be less
severe in your censure, if you knew to what accident it owes
its existence. The present Frau von Radden (Mdlle. Lucca),
although a singer, is a lady of whom, as much as myself, there
has never been any reason to say at any time such unpermitted
things. Notwithstanding this, I should, had I in a quiet moment
thought of the offense which this joke has given to many
and faithful friends, have withdrawn myself from the field
of the glass pointed at us. You perceive, from the detailed
manner in which I reply to you, that I regard your letter
as well-intentioned, and by no means place myself above the
judgment of those with whom I share a common faith. But, from
your friendship and your own Christian feeling, I anticipate
that you will recommend to my judges prudence and clemency in
similar matters for the future—of this we all stand in need.
If among the multitude of sinners who are in need of the glory
of God, I hope that His grace will not deprive me of the
staff of humble faith in the midst of the dangers and doubts
of my calling, by which I endeavor to find out my path. This
confidence shall neither find me deaf to censorious words of
friendly reproof, nor angry with loveless and proud criticism.
In haste, yours,
BISMARCK.
Although this letter may have become public by an indiscretion which,
under other circumstances, we should have deplored, we openly declare
here that we do not regret the publication; and our readers will be of
our opinion, without its being necessary to say more on the subject, or
to qualify the contents of the letter.
We will close this chapter with some letters of Bismarck, written by him
in his summer journeys of 1863, ’4, and ’5, when chiefly in attendance on
the King, to his family, and generally to his wife.
Carlsbad, 7th July, 1863.
—— has my warmest sympathy; to lose children is worse than
dying, it is so against the order of things. But however long
it may last, one follows them. I have to-day had a very sunny
walk, from twelve to two, along the Schweitzerthal, behind the
Military Hospital, upward, and by Donitz on the Eger, above
Carlsbad and the hills; then to the King, who, thank God, is
getting on well, with three glasses of the waters. I am now
living at the “Schild,” right opposite the Hirschen Sprung, and
from my back windows I can see Otto’s Höhe, Drei Kreuzberg,
etc. It is very fine, and I am very well, but sometimes have
a longing for home; to be with you in Reinfeld, and leave the
whole Minister-world behind me.
* * * * *
Carlsbad, 13th July, 1863.
I think I shall to-morrow go to Schwarzenberg, and thence to
the dusty Wilhelm Strasse, and remain there two days, and then
meet the King either at Ratisbon or Salzburg, and go with him
to Gastein. How long I shall remain there we shall see. I
shall often long to be here again, amidst Aberg, Esterhazyweg,
Hammer, Kehrwiederweg, and Aich, and I always knew how to get
comfortably rid of acquaintances, or, when I met any, to hide
myself in the bushes. To-day I have been at work nearly all day.
* * * * *
Berlin, 17th July, 1863.
Since the evening, of the day before yesterday I have been
vegetating in our empty halls, smothered under the avalanche
of papers and visits which tumbled in upon me as soon as my
arrival was known. I am now going into the garden for half an
hour, and just give you this sign of life. Yesterday I had a
Russian dinner, to-day a French one. To-morrow I leave by way
of Dresden, Prague, and Pilsen, for Ratisbon, back to the King,
and stay with him at Gastein.
* * * * *
Nürnberg, 19th July, 1863.
I do not know whether I shall send this thick paper off from
here, but I happen to have an unemployed moment, which I use
to tell you that I am well. I yesterday went from Berlin
to Dresden, have visited B. and R., who desire their best
remembrances (Countess R. also); I then slept at Leipzig for
three hours only, but very well, and after five o’clock came on
here, where I must await a train which is to bring me, about
eleven at night, to the King at Ratisbon. N. N. has desired the
presence of all sorts of people here, with whom I wish to have
nothing to do, and for this purpose he has engaged the best
hotel. I therefore selected another, which, as yet, has made
no very favorable impression on me; better paper than this it
does not possess. Add to this, that Engel has not a clean shirt
in the bag, and my things are at the station, so that I sit
here in railway dust and discomfort, waiting for a dinner, most
probably bad of its kind.
Travelling agrees with me admirably; but it is very annoying to
be stared at like a Japanese at every station. Incognito and
its comforts have passed away, until some day, like others,
I shall have had my day, and somebody else has the advantage
of being the object of general ill-will. I should have been
very glad to go viâ Vienna to Salzburg, where the King will be
to-morrow. I could have lived our wedding-tour over again, but
political reasons dissuaded me; people would have attributed
God knows what plans to me, if I had reached there at the same
time as ——. I shall, no doubt, see R. by chance at Gastein or
Salzburg. I must finish this although my soup has not yet come;
but I can not get on upon this paper, with a steel pen besides,
or I shall get cramp in the fingers.
* * * * *
Salzburg, 22d July, 6 A.M.
From this charming little town I must write you the date
at least, in the moment of my departure. The Roons are all
below, waiting to say good-bye. Yesterday we were at Königsee,
Edelweiss, and Bartholomäus.
* * * * *
Gastein, 24th July, 1863.
I wanted to send you Edelweiss herewith, but it is mislaid.
Salzachofen I thought more imposing ten years ago. The weather
was too fine. The road hither, which you did not see, is
pretty, but not imposing. I here live opposite the King at the
Waterfall—a child to that at Golling. I only saw two finer in
the Pyrenees, but none greater. I have taken two baths, very
pleasant, but tiring afterwards, unfitting one for work. From
to-morrow I shall bathe only at mid-day, and write before.
The air is charming, but the neighborhood rather imposing than
friendly. The King is well.
* * * * *
Gastein, 28th July, 1863.
As this day sixteen years ago brought sunshine into my wild
bachelor life, so to-day it has rejoiced this valley, and I
have seen it on a morning walk for the first time in all its
beauty. Moritz would call it a giant dish full of cabbage,
narrow and deep, the edges set round with white eggs. Steep
sides, some thousand feet high, covered with furze and
meadow-green, and huts of thatch, strewed here and there up to
the snow-line, the whole surrounded by a wreath of white peaks
and bands, richly powdered with snow during five rainy days,
and the lower frontier of which the sun is causing gradually
to grow higher. Dozens of silver threads run through the green
from above—little water streams, tumbling down hastily, as if
they were too late for the great fall which they make with
the Ache close before my dwelling. The Ache is a river with
somewhat more water than the Stolpe has near Strellin, and
waltzes swiftly through all Gastein, falling down at different
levels some hundreds of feet between rocks.
It is possible to live here in such weather, but I should
prefer to have nothing to do, only to walk about on the
heights, and sit down upon sunny banks, smoke, and look at the
rocky snow-peaks through the telescope. There is little society
here. I only mix with the retinue of the King, with whom
dinner and tea bring me in daily contact. The rest of the time
scarcely suffices for work, sleeping, bathing, and walking.
I yesterday evening visited old —— with the Emperor, who is
expected on the second. N. N. will come, and will complain to
me that lying is the curse of this world. I have just heard
that the King (who is very well, only he has hurt his ankle,
and must sit still) keeps the courier till to-morrow, and this
letter will not reach by post any sooner, as it would lose a
day by being opened. I shall therefore leave it. Good Prince
Frederick was yesterday released from his sufferings: the King
was much overcome.
* * * * *
Gastein, 2d Aug., 1863.
Bill’s day was kept by me in fine weather, and the King was
informed; he asked how old he was, and how industrious his
godson might be. To-day the Emperor is coming, flags and
garlands are the order of the day, the sun is shining, and
I have not yet been out of my room; have been writing for
three hours, therefore no more than hearty greetings. If I
do not write by way of Berlin, I fall into the hands of the
post-office here—certainly I write no secrets, but it is very
unpleasant. The mare is in Berlin again. I bathe every day; it
is agreeable, but tiring.
* * * * *
Gastein, 12th Aug., 1863.
I am very well, but the couriers are in terror in all
directions. Yesterday I shot two chamois at an elevation of
seven thousand feet—quite cooked, despite the height. On the
15th we leave here for Salzburg—the 16th, Stuttgart—17th,
Baden. On account of the Frankfurt nonsense I can not leave the
King.
* * * * *
Gastein, 14th Aug., 1863.
In order that you may see whether it is really quicker, I send
this letter by the post, the courier starting at the same time.
I have been writing for four hours, and have got so tired that
I can hardly hold my pen. There has been a hot sun for a week,
in the evenings storm. The King is well, but the baths have
shaken him; he bathes daily, and works as if he were in Berlin;
there is no saying any thing to him. God grant it may go well
with him! To-day I take my last bath—twenty or twenty-one in
all, in twenty-six days. I am very well, but worked to death. I
am so engaged that I can see very few people. To-morrow evening
we sleep at Salzburg—on the 16th, probably at Munich—the 17th,
at Stuttgart, Constance, or Baden; it is uncertain. Write to
Baden, where I shall probably stay a few days. A letter came
from —— at Spa; perhaps I shall visit her there, but who knows
_ce qu’on devient_ in a week? Perhaps every thing will be
different.
* * * * *
Baden, 28th Aug., 1863.
I really long to spend a lazy day among you; here, on the most
charming days, I never get away from ink. Yesterday I went
for a walk till midnight, in the loveliest moonlight, through
the fields, but can not get business out of my head; society
also gives no rest. N. N. is charming to see, but talks too
much politics to me; —— naturally is always full of rumors;
——, who is usually so delightful to me, has people about her
who disturb my satisfaction; and new acquaintances are very
troublesome. A. is especially pleasant. With him and E., who
is here for two days, I yesterday dined in my apartment. The
King is well, but besieged by intrigue. To-day I dine with Her
Majesty the Queen. Schleinitz is here, Hohenzollern expected,
Goltz gone to Paris. I think the King will not leave here till
Sunday; a few days later I must be in Berlin; perhaps I shall
have time in between for a trip to Spa, where I shall find O.
Perhaps I shall have to go to the Queen of England, whom the
King proposes to visit at Rosenau, near Coburg. In any case,
I hope to have a few days free in September for Pomerania. I
wish that some intrigue would necessitate another Ministry, so
that I might honorably turn my back upon this ewer of ink, and
live quietly in the country. The restlessness of this existence
is unbearable; for ten weeks I have had secretary’s work at an
inn, and again at Berlin. It is no life for an honest country
nobleman, and I regard every one as a benefactor who seeks
to bring about my fall. With this the flies are humming and
tickling and stinging all over the room, so that I really want
a change in my position, which in a few minutes the Berlin
train will certainly bring me, by a courier with fifty empty
dispatches.
* * * * *
Berlin, 4th September, 1863.
At last I find a moment to write to you. I had hoped to have a
few days of recreation at Kröchlendorff, but it is all the old
treadmill over again; last night work till one o’clock, and I
then poured the ink over it instead of sand, so that it ran
down over my knees. To-day the Ministers were here at nine,
and for the second time at one, and with them the King. The
question for discussion was the dissolution of the Chamber, for
which I had no heart. But it could not be otherwise; God knows
what the use of it is. Now we shall have the Electoral swindle!
With God’s help I am well through it all; but an humble
reliance on God is required, not to despair of the future of
our country. May He, above all, grant our King good health! It
is not very pleasant in this empty house, but I do not notice
it on account of work. The horses have arrived to-day in much
better condition. The trouble about the mare was groundless.
* * * * *
Bukow, 21st September, 1863.
I wished to-day, on the last day of summer, to write you a
very comfortable and reasonable letter, and full of this idea
lay down on the sofa three hours ago, but only woke a quarter
of an hour before dinner, which is about six. At seven I had
gone out to ride until half-past one, in the capacity of “Herr
Oberstwachtmeister,” to see our brave soldiers burn powder
and form attacks. I first joined Fritz, who commanded three
regiments of cavalry, then went over to the Garde du Corps,
stormed like a man over stock and block, and for a long time
have had no pleasanter day. I am living next to the King, and
two adjutants in a nice old house of Count Hemming’s; it is
a pretty neighborhood, with hillocks, lakes, and woods, and,
above all, there is nothing to do, after finishing my business
with —— yesterday. To-morrow, I am sorry to say, I must go on
the treadmill again: and now to dinner, having slept myself
quite stupid, and wrenched my neck on the steep sofa. We
had twenty persons at table, all sorts of foreign officers,
Englishmen, Russians, besides the whole Federation in the
house. I have no mufti clothes with me, so for forty-eight
hours am wholly a major.
* * * * *
Berlin, 29th September, 1863.
I was so far ready on Saturday that I had only an interview
with the King before me, and hoped to be with you on Sunday
at noon. But the interview led to my having four hours of
autograph work, and the necessity of seeing the King before
his departure for Baden. There was just time for one day at
Kröchlendorff, whither I repaired on Saturday evening, after
writing myself crooked and lame, to reach there at midnight.
Yesterday morning drove to Passow, reached the King by five,
and at a quarter to eight attended him to the railroad.
To-day I accompany Moritz and Roon to Freienwalde, must see
Bernhard about Kniephof, and hope to come to you the day after
to-morrow, if there should remain time enough to make it worth
while. I am to follow the King to Baden; the “when” will be
first known from our correspondence and the business in hand.
If there should be time enough for me to remain two or three
days at Reinfeld, I will come; if not, the harness-makers will
preponderate over my rest, and I shall see you again here in
Berlin. On the 17th I then shall probably return with the King
from Cologne. M. is sitting opposite, and is working out at my
table a joint matter.
* * * * *
Berlin, 27th October, 1863.
It is bitterly cold, but I am quite well. Are you also making
fires up at Reinfeld? I hope so; we have been doing so here
for more than a week. Yesterday, after dinner, I sat with K.
in the blue saloon, and he was playing when I received your
letter of Sunday. Indeed, the letter you wrote was written in
quite a holiday humor. Believe in God, my heart, and on the
proverb that barking dogs do not bite. I did not accompany the
King to Stralsund, it being a tiring journey, and would retard
my work for two days. This evening His Majesty has returned:
the threats against his life are far more menacing than those
directed against me; but this, too, is in the hands of God. Do
not allow the last few fine days to be dimmed by care; and if
you are coming, send some feminine being in advance to arrange
every thing as you wish it. I must go to work. Farewell! This
morning, at nine, only three degrees,[48] and a hot sun. The
inclosed[49] I have twice received this morning from two
different quarters.
* * * * *
Babelsberg, 1st November, 1863.
I employ a moment in which I am awaiting the King, who is
dining at Sans-Souci, to write a line as if from Zarskoe or
Peterhof, only to say that I am well, and am heartily rejoiced
that I shall soon see you ruling again in the empty apartments
at Berlin. On the 9th comes the Diet, with all its worry; but I
think, on the day of the opening, I shall go with His Majesty
to Letzlingen, and pass two days in the woods. During that time
you will, I hope, have done with the hammering and dragging,
the necessary accompaniment of your beloved advent, and on my
return I shall then find every thing in the right place.
For the last few days I have been living alone, and
industrious, have generally dined alone, and, except for a
ride, have not left the house; have been quiet and bored;
occasionally there has been a Council of Ministers. This week
we shall probably have them daily in the matter of our dear
Chambers; and as the King has been a week in Stralsund and
Blankenburg, plenty of work has accumulated. I just hear his
carriage-wheels, and close with hearty greetings.
* * * * *
Carlsbad, Tuesday, 1864.
God be thanked that you are all well; so am I, but more than
ever engaged. At Zwickau on the Perron I met Rechberg; we came
on together in one coupé and carriage to this place; thus we
talked politics for six hours, and for the first time here.
Yesterday evening at tea with the Grand Duchess, King Otho,
Archduke Charles Frederick, many diplomatists, and much work
with R.
* * * * *
Carlsbad, 20th July, 1864.
The King has just set out for Marienbad, through espaliers of
beautiful ladies, with giant bouquets, which more than filled
his carriage. R. with “_Vivats_,” “hurrah!” great excitement.
For me there is now some leisure, all my acquaintances being
gone. To-morrow morning early for Vienna; we shall sleep at
Prague. Perhaps in a week we shall have peace with the Danes;
perhaps this winter again war. I shall make my stay in Vienna
as short as possible, to lose as few baths as possible at
Gastein. After that, I shall probably accompany the King again
to Vienna, then to Baden; then the Emperor of Russia is coming
to Berlin in the beginning of September. Before that time there
is no prospect of rest—if then.
* * * * *
Vienna, 22d July, 1864.
Yesterday morning I came with —— and —— and two others, who
lend me their calligraphic aid, from Carlsbad, in a carriage as
far as Prague; thence by railway hither to-day; unfortunately
this time not to go by water to Linz, especially to worry
myself and others. I am living with —— for the present; have
seen nobody but R. I was rain-bound for two hours in the
Volksgarten, and listened to music. Stared at by the people
as if I was a new hippopotamus for the Zoological Gardens, for
which I consoled myself with some very good beer. How long
I shall remain here I can not tell; to-morrow I have many
visits to pay; dine with R. in the country; then, if possible,
conclude peace with Denmark, and fly as swiftly as possible, to
the mountain in Gastein. I wish it were all over. The two days
of journeying have somewhat mentally rested me, but in body I
am very tired, and say good-night to you.
* * * * *
Vienna, 27th July, 1864.
I have received one letter from you here, and long for the
second. I lead an industrious life—four hours a day with tough
Danes, and am not at the end yet. By Sunday it must be settled
whether we are to have peace or war. Yesterday I dined with
M——; a very agreeable wife, and pretty daughters. We drank a
good deal, were very merry, which is not often the case in
their sorrow, of which you are aware. He has grown gray and
has cut his hair short. Yesterday, after the conference, I
dined with the Emperor at Schönbrunn, took a walk with R—— and
W——, and thought of our moonlight expedition. I have just been
for an hour in the Volksgarten, unfortunately not incognito,
as I was seventeen years ago—stared at by all the world. This
existence on the stage is very unpleasant when one wishes to
drink a glass of beer in peace. On Saturday I hope to leave for
Gastein, whether it is peace or no. It is too hot for me here,
particularly at night.
* * * * *
Gastein, 6th August, 1864.
Work gets continually worse; and here, where I can do nothing
in the morning after the bath, I do not know when to get time
for any thing. Since my arrival on the 2d, in a storm with
hailstones as hard as bullets, I have just been able, in
magnificent weather, for the first time, to go out by rule. On
my return, I wish to employ the half-hour at my disposal in
writing to you. A—— was, however, here immediately, with plans
and telegrams, and I must be off to the King. I am, however,
by the blessing of God, quite well. I have had four baths, but
shall hardly get more than eleven, as the King sets out on the
15th. Since yesterday I have been very comfortably lodged, as
a large cool corner room, with a magnificent landscape, was
vacant; until then I had-been living in a sun-blinding oven,
at least by day. The nights are pleasantly fresh. The King
probably goes hence to Vienna in short day journeys, by way
of Ischl, and thence to Baden. Whether I shall accompany him
to the latter place is uncertain. I still hope to get away
for a few days to my quiet Pomerania; but what is the use of
plans?—something always comes in between. I have not a gun with
me, and every day there is a chamois-hunt; certainly, I have
also had no time. To-day seventeen were shot, and I was not
there; it is a life like that of Leporello:—
“Neither rest by day or night,
Naught to make my comfort right.”
* * * * *
7th August.
Just now I had the whole room full of ladies, flying from the
rain, which relieves guard with the sun to-day. Fr—— from R——,
with, two cousins, Frau von P——, a Norwegian. I have long since
heard no feminine voice, not since Carlsbad. Farewell!
* * * * *
Schönbrunn, 20th August, 1864.
It is too strange that I should be living in the rooms on the
ground-floor, abutting on the private reserved garden where,
very nearly seventeen years ago, we intruded in the moonlight.
If I look over my right shoulder I can see, through a glass
door, the dark beech clump-hedge by which we wandered, in
the secret delight of the forbidden, up to the glass window
behind which I am living. It was then inhabited by the
Empress, and I now repeat our walk by moonlight at greater
ease. The day before the day before yesterday I left Gastein;
slept at Radstedt. The day before yesterday went, in misty
weather, to Aussee—a charmingly situated place; a beautiful
lake, half Traunsee and half Königssee; at sunset reached the
Hallstädtersee; thence, by boat, in the night, to Hallstadt,
where we slept. Next morning was pleasant and sunny; at noon we
reached the King at Ischl, and so, with His Majesty, over the
Traunsee to Gmunden, where we passed the night, and I thought a
great deal of L——, H——, and B——, and all those times. To-day,
by steamer, hither, arriving about six, passing two hours
with R——, after convincing myself that —— is one of the most
beautiful women, of whom all pictures give a false idea. We
stay here three days; what follows, whether Baden or Pomerania,
I cam not yet foresee. I am now heartily tired, so wish you and
all of ours good-night.
[Illustration]
Schönbrunn, Thursday.
The King went early this morning to Salzburg; I follow him
to-morrow. This morning I killed fifty-three pheasants, fifteen
hares, and one karinckel; and yesterday eight stags and two
moufflons. I am quite lame in hand and cheek from shooting.
To-morrow evening it will be decided whether I am to go to
Baden, but now I go to bed. Good-night all, for I am very tired.
* * * * *
Baden, 1st September, 1864.
The King arrived this morning from Mainau, well and cheerful,
having been through the rain with the Queen to the races.
A.’s busy hand continually shakes over me new blessings of
projects, as soon as I have worked through the old ones. I do
not know whence I wrote to you last; I have hardly come to my
senses since Vienna; slept one night in Salzburg, the second
at Munich; conferred much and lengthily with N. N., who has
grown thin. I then slept at Augsburg, and thence came, by way
of Stuttgart, to this place, in the hope of passing two days
in lazy rest, but only had two hours’ intermission in the
forest yesterday morning. Couriers, ink, audiences, and visits,
constantly buzz round me without interruption. —— is also here.
I dare not show myself on the promenade; no one leaves me at
peace.
* * * * *
Frankfurt, 11th September, 1864.
It is long since I have written to you hence, and never from
the Zeil. We alighted at the Russian Embassy; the King has
driven to the Emperor Alexander at Jugenheim; thence he visits
the Empress Eugénie at Schwalbach, and I have got myself free
for a day, which I spend with K. at Heidelberg. I accompany
her to Heidelberg, shall be back here about two or three—time
enough to devote myself to the Diet; to-morrow morning early to
Berlin, whence, after the necessary cavilling, I shall start
for Pomerania.
* * * * *
Bordeaux, 6th October, 1864.
Excuse this scrawl, but I have no paper at hand, and only
wish to apprise you that I have reached this place safely. It
seems almost like a dream to be here again. Yesterday morning
I started from Baden, slept very well at Paris, set out this
morning about eleven, and now at eleven P.M. am here. I think
of leaving for Bayonne to-morrow morning at eight, to reach
Biarritz by two. In Paris it was still cold; in Baden yesterday
there was an early frost; on this side of the Loire things grew
better; here it is decidedly warm—warmer than any night this
year. I am, in fact, already quite well, and would be _quite_
cheerful if I only knew that all was well with you. At Paris I
felt very much inclined to live there again; he had arranged
the house there very well, and the life I lead in Berlin is
a kind of penal servitude when I think of my independent life
abroad. If it agree with me, I think I shall take about fifteen
baths, so that on the 21st or 22d I shall set out on my return
journey; if God wills, you will then be—or perhaps somewhat
earlier—at Berlin. In his care, Engel has locked me in; there
is no bell, and this letter will lose a day, as it can not be
sent to the post to-night. It is so warm that I have the window
open.
* * * * *
Biarritz, 9th October, 1864.
When I remember how assiduously we lighted fires in Baden, and
even in Paris, and that here the sun graciously requests me
to take off my paletot and drawers, that we sat till ten by
the sea in the moonlight, and this morning breakfast in the
open air, and that I am writing to you at the open window,
looking at the blue and sunny sea, and on bathing folks who are
wandering about in very slight costumes, paddling with naked
feet in the water, I can not help saying that southern nations
possess a peculiar grace of God in their climate. I shall not
yet bathe more than once, but shall soon venture upon two, if
not, _à la_ ——, upon more. The only comfort I require is to
hear from you. If we were free people, I should propose to you
to come with child and baggage to this place, and remain here
the whole winter, as many of the English do, from reasons of
economy, which prevails here in the winter season.
* * * * *
Biarritz, 12th October, 1864.
MY DEAR SISTER,—I am so delightfully disengaged that I can
send a few lines in the direction of my thoughts! I am well,
particularly since I have yesterday and to-day at last received
news of Johanna’s gradual recovery. I reached here on the
forenoon of the 7th—in Paris we still had fires, from Bordeaux
an agreeable temperature, and here heat so that summer clothing
was necessary. Since yesterday there has been a north wind,
and it is cooler, but still warmer than I have felt it all
the summer. A very light summer coat was too hot for me on
my evening’s walk by the shore. Until now I have taken seven
baths, and now proceed with two _per diem_. I am writing to you
by the open window, with flickering lights, and the moonlit sea
before me, the plash of which is accompanied by the carriage
bells on the road to Bayonne. The lighthouse in front of me
changes its light from red to white, and I am looking with some
appetite at the clock, to see whether the dinner hour of seven
has not arrived. I have not for a long time found myself in
such comfortable climatic and business conditions, and yet the
evil habit of work has rooted itself so deeply in my nature
that I feel some disquiet of conscience at my laziness—almost
long for the Wilhelm Strasse, at least if my dear ones were
there. “_Monsieur, le diner est servi_,” is the announcement.
_The 13th._—I could not yesterday write any further. After
dinner we took a moonlight walk on the southern shore, from
which we returned, very tired, at about eleven o’clock. I
slept till nine; about ten bathed in water of 14° warmer[50]
than ever I had found the North Sea in August; and now we are
going together to Fuent Arabia, beyond the frontier; shall dine
on our way back at St. Jean de Luz. The weather is heavenly
to-day, the sea quiet and blue; it is almost too hot to walk in
the sun.
[Illustration]
* * * * *
Izazu, 17th October, 1864.
Although I have this morning sent you a letter by the courier,
_pour la rareté du fait_, I must write to you from this
remarkable place. We breakfasted here, three miles to the east
of Biarritz, in the mountains, and are seated in charming
summer weather at the edge of a rushing stream, the name of
which we can not learn, as nobody speaks French—nothing but
Basque. There are high narrow rocks before and behind us, with
heather, ferns, and chestnuts all around. The valley is called
Le Pas de Roland, and is the west end of the Pyrenees. Before
we went off we took our baths—the water cold, the air like
July. The courier dispatched, we had a charming drive through
mountains, forests, and meadows. After eating and drinking,
and climbing ourselves tired, our party of five are sitting
down reading to each other, and I am writing myself on the lid
of the box in which were the grapes and figs we brought with
us. At five we shall return with the sunset and moonlight to
Biarritz, and dine about eight. It is too pleasant a life to
last. The 20th, the evening before last, we went to Pau. It was
heavy and sultry there, and at night storm and rain; we were
in the railway, but came from Bayonne hither by carriage; the
sea magnificent. After it had been as smooth as a duck-pond
for some days with the land winds, it now looks like a boiling
caldron, and the wind is warm and moist with it; the sun
alternates with rain—very Atlantic weather.
To-day I take my fourteenth bath; I shall hardly get more than
fifteen, for it seems I must to-morrow leave this warm shore.
I am still striving between duty and taste; but I fear the
first will conquer. I will first take my bath, and then decide
whether it shall be the penultimate one. Anyhow, the fourteen
days I have spent here have done me good, and I only wish I
could transport you, without travelling discomfort, hither or
to Pau.
* * * * *
Paris, 25th October, 1864.
Before going to bed, after a tiring day, I will announce to you
my fortunate arrival here. Yesterday noon I left dear Biarritz;
they were making hay in the meadows when I started in the hot
sun. Friends accompanied me as far as Bayonne; at about 6 A.M.
I arrived here. Plenty of politics, audience at St. Cloud, a
dinner at Drouyn de Lhuys’s, and now I am going to bed tired
out.
* * * * *
Carlsbad, 12th July, 1865.
I am ashamed that I did not write to you on your birthday; but
there is so much of “must” in my life that I scarcely ever get
to “will.” The treadwheel goes on from day to day, and I seem
as if I were the tired horse in it, pushing it along without
getting any forwarder. One day after the other a courier
arrives, one day after the other another departs—between whiles
come others from Vienna, Munich, or Rome; the burden of papers
increases, ministers are all at odds, and from this centre I am
obliged to write to each of them singly.
The review I hope to stop; as far as I know, the actual return
has not yet reached the King; but I have brought the matter
forward, and His Majesty has promised to examine into the
provision question for man and horse. To-morrow I will inquire
in the military cabinet as to how far the writing has got.
Late in the evening, the 13th.
The whole day I have been writing, dictating, reading, going
down and up the mountain as to the report to the King. The
courier’s bag and my letter are both closing. Across the table
I see the Erzgebirge, along the Tepl by the evening twilight,
very beautiful; but I feel leathery and old. The King starts
from here on the 19th, five days off, for Gastein, whither the
Emperor designs to come. On the road I will see —— somewhere
in Bavaria. “Neither rest by day nor night.” It looks ugly for
peace—it must be settled at Gastein.
* * * * *
Gastein, 4th August, 1865.
I begin to count the days I shall have to sit through in this
fog-chamber. As to what the sun looks like, we have only
dark reminiscences from a better past. Since this morning it
has at least been cold; until then sultry moist heat, with a
change only in the form of rain, and continued uncertainty as
to whether one gets wet with rain or perspiration, when one
stumps up and down the esplanade steps in the mud. How people
with nothing to do can endure it I do not understand. What
with bathing, work, dinner, reports, and tea at His Majesty’s,
I have scarcely time to realize the horrors of the situation.
These last three days there has been a theatre of comedians
here; but one is almost ashamed to go, and most people avoid
the passage through the rain. I am very well through it all,
particularly since we have had Kaltenhäuser beer. —— and ——
are dreadfully cast down from not knowing what to drink. The
landlord gives them bad beer in order to force them to drink
worse wine. Other news than this there is none from this
steam-kitchen, unless I talk politics.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
Gastein, 14th August, 1865.
For some days I have had no time to send you any news. Count
Blome is here again, and we are zealously laboring at the
maintenance of peace, and the repair of the fissures in the
buildings. The day before yesterday I devoted a day to the
chase. I think I wrote you word how fruitless the first
was. This time I have at least shot a young chamois, but
saw no others in the three hours during which I abandoned
my motionless self to the experiments of the most various
insects; and the prattling activity of the waterfall beneath
me convinced me of the deep-rooted feeling which caused some
one before my time to express the wish, “Streamlet, let thy
rushing be!” In my room, also, this wish is justified both by
day and by night—one breathes on reaching any place where the
brutal noise of the waterfall can not be heard. In the end,
however, it was a very pretty shot, right across the chasm;
killed first fire, and the brute fell headlong into the brook,
some church-steeple’s height beneath me. My health is good,
and I feel myself much stronger. We start on the 19th—that is
Saturday—for Salzburg. The Emperor will probably make his visit
there, and one or two days will be spent besides at Ischl.
The King then goes to Hohenschwangau. I go to Munich, and
join His Majesty again at Baden. What next may follow depends
upon politics. If you are in Homburg long enough, I hope to
take a trip over to you from Baden—to enjoy the comforts of
domesticity.
* * * * *
Baden, 1st September, 1865.
I reached this place the day before yesterday morning, slept
till half-past twelve, then had much hard work; dinner with
the King—long audience. In the evening a quartette at Count
Flemming’s with Joachim, who really performs on his violin in
a most wonderful way. There were many acquaintances of mine on
the race-course yesterday whom I did not very well remember.
September begins rainy. Two-thirds of the year are gone just
when one has grown accustomed to write 1865. Many princes are
here. At four —— wants to see me; she is said to have grown
very beautiful. The King leaves at five—it is undecided whether
to Coblenz or Coburg, on account of Queen Victoria, whom he
desires to meet. I hope in any case to pass by way of Frankfurt
on the 5th or 6th. Whether, or how long, I can be in Homburg,
will soon be seen—longer than one day in no case, as I must be
with the King in Berlin.
* * * * *
Baden, Sunday.
That you may see what a husband you have, I send you the route.
We go to-morrow morning, at six o’clock, to Coburg, to the
Queen of England. I must go too, and I am sorry to say Spa is
all over for me; but it can not be otherwise.
CHAPTER III.
THE GREAT YEAR 1866.
Disputes with Austria.—The Central States.—Mobilization
of the Army.—Bismarck shot at by Kohn-Blind, 7th May,
1866.—Excitement in Berlin.—War Imminent.—Declaration.—The
King sets out on the Campaign.—Sichrow.—Litschen.—Battle
of Sadowa, 3d July, 1866.—Bismarck with His Majesty on
the Battle-field.—Negotiations of Nicolsburg.—Treaty
of Prague.—Illness of Bismarck.—Consolidation of
Prussia.—Triumphant Entry of the Army into Berlin.—Peace.
[Illustration]
Ere the year 1865 was at an end, Bismarck had become firmly convinced
that Austria had lapsed from the Treaty of Gastein and had returned
to the Central State policy, the advocate of which was the Freiherr
von Beust. This policy, which could only ultimate in eternizing the
old vacillating system at the Federation between Prussia and Austria,
as this was the only way in which the existence of the Central State
sovereignties could be prolonged, was skillfully guarded by the Freiherr
von Beust, and always presented the seductive appearance of moderation,
as it neither conceded any thing to Prussia nor Austria, but kept the
one constantly in check against the other. That Germany was certainly
being imperilled by it, politicians entirely overlooked. At the moment
Prussia had the preponderance, not only actually, as Bismarck in fact and
truth pursued a national policy, but also formally, as it had separated
Austria by the Treaty of Gastein from the Central States. According to
the principles of the Central States, Prussia had now to be depressed,
and Austria elevated. Here was the point at which Bismarck awaited his
diplomatic opponents. Had they been the German patriots for which they
were so anxious to pass—and perhaps they quite honestly deemed themselves
such—they would have come to the material point, and demanded more from
Austria for Germany than Prussia had offered. Austria was in the position
to accede to the German princes—perhaps to the German people—more than
Prussia could do, whose whole position was much more awkward. Austria did
not imperil her entire autonomy as Prussia did. Bismarck, however, knew
his Pappenheimers—the Central State policy did not go upon the material,
but the formal point—and only used their federation with Austria to force
Prussia to the acceptance of a new Augustenburg minor State north of the
Elbe.
So little a policy necessarily would come to destruction in face of the
energy with which Bismarck clung to his national programme. This also
became very ominous for Austria, for she saw herself obliged to give
battle upon a basis which tottered under her. Faithful to the traditions
of her old policy, Austria sought to win the Courts by promises, and
she succeeded; but she knew very well that little or nothing was gained
thereby. The result has shown how little worth Austria set upon the
German Confederation. Prussia, while she asked, promised nothing.
Bismarck adhered to his policy, which only demanded sacrifices on the
part of the princes—sacrifices for Germany, not for Prussia, who was
ready to bring far greater ones than any minor State.
Thus approached the hour of decision—a decision whether in future the
German people, under the leadership of Prussia, should assume its proper
place in Europe, or whether it should coalesce into a weak federation of
impuissant territories, under Austrian satraps, and be blindly obedient
to every signal from Vienna.
Preparations were made in every direction; but it was certain that
in Vienna, in a scarcely credible misapprehension of Prussia, the
authorities had armed for a long time only because it was believed that
Prussia was to be terrified by such armaments. At Vienna, the peaceable
disposition of the venerable King William, who, to the last moment, hoped
for a peaceful termination, which was indeed possible until the firing
of the first cannon-shot, was looked upon as fear. Was it impossible for
Austria, without any stain upon her honor, to concede to Prussia and
Germany in May all that which she had solemnly acknowledged at Prague in
August?
It would be far beyond the limits of this book to enter upon the
fomented quarrels in the Elbe Duchies and at the Diet on the diplomatic
recriminations concerning the earlier or later armaments. We conceive
that we have already sufficiently set forth Bismarck’s policy; for our
purpose it is quite unimportant whether Austria really desired war, or
whether her object was to terrorize. King William did _not_ wish for
war; but he wished to be free from Austria, for the present and future,
in the interests of Prussia and Germany. Prussia had seriously armed;
for whoever desires to attain an end must have the means to attain it,
and Bismarck had not forgotten what had caused the fall of the Radowitz
policy. But Radowitz had not been wrecked upon the insufficiency of the
Prussian military system of his day, but on the actual course of foreign
policy.
[Illustration: VICTORY!]
How had this changed since the days of Erfurt and Olmütz?
In judging of the rupture with the Diet, it must be here again borne in
mind, what had become of it since 1851, what position it had assumed
towards Prussia. Count Bismarck, on the re-establishment of the Diet in
1851, had been sent to Frankfurt as a friend of Austria. Prussia desires
to co-operate openly and freely with Austria, and that this was also the
endeavor of Count Bismarck, his whole political behavior had testified
at the very time, in the most unequivocal manner, when Austria, weakened
by internal revolution, was obliged to resort to foreign assistance.
He soon perceived, however, that such co-operation was impossible. The
necessary condition of it was the equalization of Prussia with Austria,
and this had also been promised at Olmütz. Count Bismarck could not allow
Prussia to be the _second_ German power. He used to say that as Austria
was “one,” so also Prussia was “one;” nor could he interpret the treaties
in any other way than as they were understood until 1848; that Prussia,
no more than Austria, could subordinate herself to resolutions of the
majority.
But this principal condition Austria allowed only to herself: a hegemony
over Germany was the policy of Prince Schwarzenberg, and his successors
adhered to this word. Count Bismarck soon convinced himself that all
federal complaisance only called forth further demands, that gratitude
and sympathy in the policy of the empire were as little thought of as
national feelings and German interests.
Austria did not desire any nearer approach to Prussia; she would come
to any understanding. She began by securing to herself an obedient
majority at the Diet, and believed that she could dispense with extending
the competency and sphere of action of the Federation, after making
the Diet, by the institution of the influence of the majorities, and
the suppression of the right of protest in the minority, a serviceable
instrument of Viennese policy, and thus gradually do away with the right
of protest and the independence of the individual States, and thus also
that of Prussia. The Austrian Ministers went so far as to assert that
Austria alone in the Federation had any right to a foreign policy; and
this Austrian policy should be endowed with the semblance of legality
by the resolution of the servile majority in the Diet. In such an
aspiration Austria found from the Central States an only too willing
sympathy. To the ambition and thirst for action of the Ministers of the
latter, the territorial dimensions of their own country and the circle
of activity assigned to them seemed not important or distinguished
enough. It flattered them to be engaged in questions of European policy.
This, indeed, they could enter upon without danger or a necessity for
reciprocity; and they speedily found a natural consequence of the
principle of federal law in the fact, that the members of the Federation
need follow no foreign policy of their own, but would only have to follow
such as might be dictated by the majority.
But the mediatization of the foreign policy of Prussia was not the only
object held in view. If the course of European politics admitted of it,
it was proposed as a further consequence to declare as an undoubted issue
of federal jurisprudence, that the constitution and laws of Prussia
should be subject to the determination of the majority.
The Central States saw themselves placed on an equality with Prussia
with the highest satisfaction. They were ready to make any sacrifice
otherwise so obstinately refused, except independence, if Prussia were
only subjected to the same. They could not forgive Prussia her greatness
and high position, and therefore they experienced an especial delight
in making Prussia feel the importance of the Federation. The securer
they felt of the majority, the less concealed and bold were their
pretensions, and every demand of Austria on Prussia, however unjust,
found ready support from the Central States, especially if the question
were to combat the estimation and influence of Prussia in Germany.
The majority was always to decide, even as to the question of their
own right of decision, and there was no hesitation in doing violence
to words and sound common sense to prove a united vote as to such a
proceeding. They endeavored to deceive the world and themselves by the
fallacy that “Federal Diet” and “Germany” were identical ideas, and the
opinions of Prussia were stigmatized as being non-German, while Prussia
was accused of stirring up strife in the Federation, when she declined
unconditionally to submit to the arbitrary decisions of the majority in
the Diet, while Austria allowed herself to be praised to the skies in
her paid press as the exclusive representative of Germany and German
interests. But even at that time did many believe this? Had not Austria
betrayed her real views and intentions in the secret dispatch of the
14th of January, 1855, in a most unequivocal manner? Openly and without
any reticence she had declared in that document that she would have no
hesitation in destroying the Federation to carry through her policy. She
had invited the Federal Governments, in contravention of the articles
of federation, to enter into a warlike alliance with her and place her
troops at the disposition of the Emperor of Austria, and promised them
advantages at the expense of those who refused such an alliance—that is,
by way of territorial aggrandizement.
The political life of Count Bismarck in Frankfurt was an uninterrupted
fight against such a system as above described. He was never weary in
pointing out and warning them that the elements ruling at the Diet were
tending towards conditions which Prussia could not accept as permanent.
He had also predicted at Frankfurt that the plan took a direction towards
placing Prussia, as soon as the fruit was believed to be ripe, in the
position that it would have to reject a resolution of the majority, then
to commit a breach of the Federation, which should be ascribed to Prussia.
So also was the event. Prussia remained faithful to the Federation till
it was violated by others, and when they had done, they blamed Prussia
with the breach of the Federation.
The spring of the great year 1866 was the most difficult in Bismarck’s
life. The terrible load of responsibility pressed heavier and heavier
upon him. Serious and well-intentioned, as well as perfidious, attempts
at peace, lamed and impeded his activity. Intrigues of all kinds hovered
about his person. His position was now openly assailed, now secretly
undermined. More than once he felt the ground trembling beneath him—he
could not get forward; and in addition to this he was corporeally ill;
rheumatic pains increasing in an alarming way. Doubt very often, it
is probable, assailed the strong mind of Bismarck, the ghastly ray of
suspicion fell upon his courageous heart. The man who had to fight for
his King and country, with all the powers, the traditions of ancient
brotherhood in arms, the ties of princely relationship, the intrigues of
diplomatists, the falling away of old friends, with the wrong-headedness,
cowardice, low-mindedness of others, down to the pacific overtures of his
opponents, in so superhuman a manner, now gradually grew into a more and
more intensified battle with himself. On this the Almighty, the Lord of
him and of Prussia, had mercy on him. He gave him a great sign.
On the 7th of May, 1866, at five in the afternoon, Count Bismarck was
walking abroad for the first time after his severe illness, returning
from an interview with the King, and proceeding up the centre allée of
the Unter den Linden. Almost opposite the Hotel of the Imperial Russian
Embassy, he heard two rapidly following reports behind him. As it was
afterwards found, one bullet had just grazed his side. Count Bismarck
turned swiftly round, and saw a young man before him, who was raising
his revolver to fire a third time. Bismarck met the man quickly, and
seized him by the arm and by the throat; but before he reached him the
man fired the third shot. It was a glance shot on the right shoulder,
which Bismarck felt for a long time afterwards. Then the wretch passed
the revolver, as quick as lightning, from the right to the left hand,
and close to him fired two other shots at the Minister-President. One
shot missed him in consequence of a quick turn, only burning his coat;
but the other struck him, and at this moment Count Bismarck believed
himself mortally wounded, for he felt that one of the bullets had
struck him right on the rib. The rib probably feathered, as they say
in deer-shooting—_i.e._, it bent elastically. Count Bismarck at once
mastered the sensation of weakness which had come over him by the
concussion of the vertebræ through the rib for an instant. He handed over
the criminal—whom he had held with an iron grasp—to the officers and men
of the first battalion of the Second Foot Guard Regiment, who were just
marching down the street, and walked on in the direction of his house
in the Wilhelms-Strasse, where he safely arrived before the news of the
attempt was known.
[Illustration]
During the whole period preceding the war there was nothing extraordinary
in the Minister-President’s being with the King longer than usual, so
that the dinner usually fixed for five was often half an hour late,
or even longer. Nobody, therefore, was surprised at the Count’s late
appearance on this occasion. No one in the house had even an idea of
the terrible attempt at murder on the Unter den Linden—of the wonderful
preservation of the master of the house. There was some company assembled
in the salon of the Countess, awaiting the Minister-President; at last
he entered. Nobody noticed any disquietude or excitement in his manner;
it only seemed to some as if his greeting were heartier than usual.
Saying, “Ah! what a pleasant party!” he went to his study, where it was
his habit to remain for a few moments before sitting down to table. He
this day made a short report of the event to His Majesty the King. Then
he returned to the dinner-party, and said, as he very often did when he
came late, in a merry scolding tone to his wife, “Why _don’t_ we eat our
dinners to-day?” He approached a lady to lead her to the dining-table,
and then, as they went out of the salon, he went up to his wife, kissed
her on the forehead, and said, “My child, they have shot at me, but there
is no harm done!”
Tenderly and prudently as this was said, terror naturally displayed
itself on all countenances. Everyone crowded round the honored gentleman
in trembling joy at his wonderful escape. He, however, would not delay,
entered the dining-room, and, after a short grace, sat down to his soup,
which no doubt tasted all the better to him the less that he, in all
human probability, seemed likely to have any right to it again half an
hour before. The surgeon who was called in said afterwards, when all
sorts of theories were attempted to account for the non-success of the
attempt, with great justice:—“Gentlemen! there is but one explanation.
God’s hand was between them!”
In fact, the dinner on that day was frequently interrupted; nobody ate
any dinner at all except Bismarck himself. Before six o’clock, only
half an hour after the crime, the King himself arrived, having risen
from his own dinner to congratulate his Minister. Bismarck received his
royal master on the stairs, and remained alone with him for a short
time. No doubt it was a touching meeting for both of them; for the dear
Lord who still could press his tried servant by the still warm hand,
as for the Minister, ready at any moment to die for his King, be it on
the battle-field or in the street! There was very little ceremony at the
Ministry of Foreign Affairs that day. Scarcely had the King departed ere,
one after the other, the Princes of the Royal House who happened to be
in Berlin appeared, and sat down at the family table, drinking a glass
of wine to Bismarck’s safety. The company increased as the news of the
criminal deed grew known farther off; the venerable Field-Marshal Count
Wrangel was one of the first who hastened to express sympathy. Generals,
ministers, ambassadors, friends, and all who respected him, even
political opponents, thronged round the precious personage so wonderfully
preserved to his native land. At the threshold of the door crowds of
persons of all conditions were assembled, who inscribed their names in
lists prepared for the purpose, in token of their sympathy. Supplements
of the _Gazettes_ then appeared, telling in brief periods what had
taken place; and rejoicing multitudes thronged the Wilhelms-Platz and
Wilhelms-Strasse till far into the evening. Conservative clubs serenaded
him, and, for the first time in his life, Bismarck addressed from the
window the people of Berlin.
From that day all vacillation in Bismarck was at an end. The Lord God,
in his wonderful salvation, had vouchsafed him a sign, and he again felt
the full and strong conscience of his historical mission; he knew that he
was the sentinel whom God had placed at a post, from which alone He could
relieve him. Nor was this a Divine signal to Bismarck alone.
It is known that the political enthusiast who attempted the murder, the
step-son of a democratic fugitive named Blind, whose name he had assumed,
ended his career by suicide before any examination could take place.
There were traces of a conspiracy certainly discovered, but they were not
pursued; the attempt at assassination therefore can not be regarded as
the crime of an individual. It was sad enough to see that the fanatical
hatred of Bismarck went so far in Austria and South Germany; that
voices were raised, trying to elevate the murderer into a martyr. The
Austrian press dishonored itself by the publication of an advertisement
in which an obscure advocate set a price on Bismarck’s head. It was
very silly that the _Ritter von Geist_ in Vienna endeavored to account
for Bismarck’s wonderful escape by changing his shirt into a suit of
chain mail, and then with wonderful wit declared that the Prussian
Minister-President bought his linen from the ironmonger!
The times were growing more serious; minds began to feel that stillness
which precedes the storm.
“_Mit Gott für König und Vaterland!_”—“With God for King and
Fatherland!”—the ancient royal battle-cry of olden time, first crept
softly and then louder and louder from heart to heart, from mouth to
mouth, until at last it thundered in the roaring of a thousand cannon
throughout the trembling world. It seems sad that in those very days a
valiant archduke in Italy, most infelicitously altering our old dear
Prussian cry, closed an order of the day with the words: “For God with
Emperor and Fatherland!”
It was just during these days of omen that Bismarck, although very
serious, was more gentle and kind than ever to his relatives and friends.
There was expectation, often expectation to the greatest tension, but no
vacillation, no doubt in him; he was a brave man from head to foot. In
the later hours of evening he was often in the beautiful garden of the
Minister of Foreign Affairs, of which garden he was very fond; under its
old trees he used to take counsel with Moltke, with Roon, and others;
there he often walked up and down restlessly for hours, in deep thought,
waiting for a royal message. There, too, the eventful thought flashed
upon him, in the night of Thursday to Friday, from the 14th to the 15th
of June, to set the Prussian columns in motion twenty-four hours sooner
than had been intended. Immediately General von Moltke was sent for, and
the telegraph was at work.
In the enthusiasm at the first results, and in the restless activity
of those days, Bismarck seemed to have lost every trace of illness. An
old partisan of his, who was invited to dinner by him in those days,
found him fresher and more vigorous than ever. During the most animated
conversation, the news came in that telegraphic communication with Italy
was broken off. Bismarck turned to Legations Councillor von Keudell
and said, “Dear Keudell, please give directions that telegrams be sent
viâ London,” and continued his conversation. Immediately after dinner
General von Moltke was announced. Bismarck went out, but returned in
ten minutes, quite at ease, and invited his guest to accompany him
into the garden, although no doubt those ten minutes had been spent
in a conference of the most important eventful character. General von
Werder was announced. Another conference, and then Bismarck related, in
strolling about the garden, how on that forenoon, worn out by continued
exertion to the greatest extent, and waiting in the antechamber of
the King, he had fallen asleep on a sofa. He delighted in his garden,
and got on the ice-house, from which he could overlook the whole of
the green thickets of the fine large garden behind the palace in the
Wilhelms-Strasse.
[Illustration]
A few days later, on Friday, the 29th of June, the first news of victory
arrived. No one, no one will ever forget that day! As if by enchantment,
the whole of Berlin was dressed in black-and-white flags; in every street
resounded, in joy, “_Ich bin ein Preusse, kennt ihr meine Farben?_”—“I
am a Prussian; do you know my colors?”[51] In thousands the multitude
pressed to the palace of the King, who greeted his faithful people from
the window, while the General-Intendant von Hülsen read the victorious
news from the balcony. There was no end to the rejoicings bursting
joyfully from full hearts. It was indeed a Prussian day!
When Count Bismarck, at about 2 P.M., left the royal palace, he was
besieged on all sides. Every one wanted to shake hands; on that day, in
that hour, every one felt and knew what Count Bismarck was to Prussia;
some have already forgotten it, and there are others who would fain have
it forgotten.
Bismarck was visibly in deep emotion, but he maintained his serious
carriage. The first victories did not intoxicate him; his prudence,
indeed, had apparently increased in power. In this hour he thought of the
sacrifice, and was humble in his heart.
In the evening, the multitude returned to the palace of the King, and
sang Luther’s hymn—“_Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott_”—“A fortress firm is
our God.” The King returned thanks. Only the few persons, close to him
could hear the words—the roaring ocean of human voices drowned them—and
yet every man knew what the King had said. Prussia’s King could only
express what every Prussian felt and thought at this moment. Thence the
multitude rushed to the Crown Prince’s palace, and greeted with hoch
and hurrah the victorious leader of the second army, which had stood
so well against the enemy; thence to the palace of Prince Charles, the
eldest Prince of the royal house, whose son, Prince Frederick Charles,
had penetrated so gloriously into Bohemia with the first army, and had
won “first blood” for Prussia in this war. Next the mass stood head to
head in the Wilhelms-Strasse, before Bismarck’s hotel; the never-ending
cry of triumph forced the Minister-President to the window. He raised
his hand in token that he would speak; all were silent beneath; from the
distance on both sides the muffled roaring of the shores of this popular
mass toned along. For the second time Count Bismarck addressed the people
of Berlin, in powerful but proudly moderate words; he ended with a salute
to the King and his army. At the moment a tremendous peal of thunder
reverberated over the royal city, a flash of forked lightning illuminated
the scene, and, with a strongly ringing voice, Bismarck shouted above the
multitude, “The heavens fire a salute!”
No one will ever forget it who heard that peal of thunder. The reply was
returned as with one voice; then the rejoicing mass got again into motion
to greet “old Roon,” the faithful warrior, at the Ministry of War.
[Illustration]
On the 30th of June Bismarck left Berlin in the suite of the King, with
Generals von Roon and von Moltke. The King was also accompanied by the
General Feld Zeugmeister, Prince Charles of Prussia, Herrenmeister of
Balley Brandenburg, for the seat of war. The carriages rolled by the
statues of the Great Frederick, the heroes of the War of Freedom, and the
great Elector on the Long Bridge. Bismarck was serious and firm, looking
like an iron statue, and more taciturn than ever. The first night’s
quarters the King passed at the Castle of Reichenberg—a few days before
the head-quarters of his victorious nephew, Prince Frederick Charles,
who had already penetrated far into Bohemia, and was encamped in the
fields, where Prussian hearts were throbbing to the Almighty, and their
arms smiting the foe, according to the brave phrase of the Maccabees,
which the Prince had used in General Orders, but which contradictory
ignorance could not find, and still prates enough about it to this day,
as a Prussian “Bible forgery.”[52] Count Bismarck, at the first night’s
lodging at Reichenberg—and, it is said, not without reason—evinced great
anxiety as to the safety of his royal master. Of himself he thought much
less; perhaps he does not know, to this moment, that it was only towards
the morning it was found possible to disembark his horses and bring
them up. We have heard that a surprise of the royal head-quarters by a
strong body of cavalry advance was not beyond the bounds of possibility.
Sufficient reason for Bismarck’s anxiety! From Sichrow and Jitschen,
Bismarck wrote the following letters to his wife:—
Sichrow, 1st July, 1866.
To-day we have started from Reichenberg, and have just reached
this place. It is uncertain whether we shall remain here
or proceed to Turnau. The whole journey was dangerous. The
Austrians, yesterday, had they sent cavalry from Leitmeritz,
might have caught the King and all the rest of us. Charles,
the coachman, has had a severe fall with the mare, which ran
away with him. At first he was thought dead; he is lying in
the hospital here, near Sichrow, in the next village. Kurt had
better come for him.
Everywhere we meet prisoners; according to the returns there
are already above fifteen thousand. Jitschin was yesterday
taken by us at the point of the bayonet by the Frankfurt
Division; General Tümpling was severely wounded in the hip, but
not mortally. The heat is terrible. The carriage of provisions
is difficult. Our troops suffer from weariness and hunger.
There are not many traces of war here, except the down-trodden
cornfields. The people are not afraid of the soldiers; they
stand in their Sunday clothes at their doors, with wife and
children, in astonishment. At Trautenau the inhabitants
murdered twenty defenseless oboists of ours, who had remained
behind the front after the passage of their regiments. The
criminals are at Glogau, before court-martial. At Münchengrätz
a brewer enticed twenty-six of our soldiers into the spirit
vault, made them drunk, and set it on fire. The distillery
belongs to a convent. Except such things, we learn little
more here than you do in Berlin. This castle, which is very
splendid, belongs to Prince Rohan, whom I saw every year at
Gastein.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
Jitschen, _not_ Gitschin, 2d July, 1866.
We have just arrived from Sichrow; the battle-field here was
still full of corpses, horses, and arms. Our victories are
much greater than we thought; it seems we have already more
than fifteen thousand prisoners, and with dead and wounded
the Austrian loss is stated at a higher figure—about twenty
thousand men. Two of their corps are completely dispersed, some
regiments destroyed to the last man. Till now I have seen more
Austrian prisoners than Prussian soldiers. Send me cigars by
the courier every time—a thousand at a time, if they can be
had, price twenty dollars, for the hospitals. All the wounded
beg them of me. Then by clubs, or our own resources, subscribe
for some dozens of Kreuzzeitungs for the hospitals—for
instance, the one at Reichenberg; the other places can be
learnt at the Ministry of War. What is Clermont-Tonnere
about? is he not coming? I have no news by the post. Send me
a revolver of wide calibre, a saddle-pistol. Charles, the
coachman, is better; he will not suffer permanently, but for
some time will not be fit for service. Charles B. is much to
be praised; he is the active principle of our travelling
household. I greet you heartily. Send me a French novel to
read, but only one at a time. God keep you.
Your letter with the Homburg inclosure has just arrived; a
thousand thanks. I can understand how you feel the quiet of
our departure. In our hurry here one feels nothing of the
position—perhaps a little in bed at night.
On the road to Jitschen, on the battle-field, Prince Frederick Charles
came to meet his royal uncle. What a meeting! The Prince drove into
Jitschen with the King about 2 P.M., where the King alighted at the
Golden Lion. The guard of honor here consisted of Pomeranian Grenadiers
of the regiment of the late King.
We are not here writing a history of the famous campaign; we will
only observe that on the 2d July no battle was expected at the royal
head-quarters for the next day; the King visited the wounded, and
Bismarck accompanied him.
[Illustration]
About 11 o’clock P.M. the chief of the staff of Prince Frederick Charles,
General von Voigts-Rheetz, arrived in Jitschen from Kamenitz, the
head-quarters of the Prince, bringing with him the plans and positions of
battle, settled by the Prince in consequence of the daring reconnoissance
of an officer on his staff, Major von Unger, which plans were submitted
to the King. Immediately upon the arrival of General von Voigts-Rheetz
the Council of War was summoned to the King, the battle dispositions
of the Prince were entirely accepted, all arrangements made, and Count
Finck von Finckenstein rode off on his historical ride to the army of the
Crown Prince, to summon it up. The plan was exceedingly simple. Prince
Frederick Charles was to throw himself on the front of the enemy, seize
it, and if possible overcome it, until the Crown Prince arrived with the
second army, to give the _coup de grace_.
Very simple—alas! how much looks simple upon paper!
On the 3d July, amidst fog and rain, Prince Frederick Charles set out to
battle against the overwhelming force of the enemy: in the first dawn of
the day his troops were in their assigned position. At eight the Prince
began the battle. “Too early!” critical voices have said; but military
authorities have said, “at the right moment!” for any longer delay would
have allowed General Benedek to take up a much stronger position. The
Prince bravely took the enormous responsibility on himself, and commenced
the battle. At nine a ringing shout of joy announced the arrival of the
King on the battle-field, and with him came Count Bismarck, the great
Major of Landwehr.
Certainly it created a fine impression, to see the faithful First
Councillor on the mare Veranda—since that time known as “Sadowa”—on the
field of honor, “where the bullet whistles, and the lance is couched,
and death is rushing round in every shape”—behind the venerable King.
Whoever had seen Bismarck only under the cross-fire of the disdainful
speech of a political opposition in the debates of the Chamber, firm,
half-contemptuous, and mighty, had never seen him as a whole; he was seen
to best advantage amidst the bullets of Sadowa. There he sat, his high
form upright in the saddle, upon a very tall roan, with a plain paletot
over his uniform, while his piercing eyes scanned each movement from
beneath his helmet. And thus he sat and rode for hours, for momentous
hours, behind his royal master, in thunder and in smoke. Behind him again
the musical and gallant Legations Rath von Keudell, also an officer in
the Landwehr cavalry. Noon arrived, but no decisive news from the Crown
Prince. The battle went burning on, and many a brave heart feared at
that time for beloved Prussia. Dark were the looks in the neighborhood
of the King; old Roon, and Moltke of the bright face, sat there like
two statues of bronze. It was whispered that the Prince would have to
loose his Brandenburgers—his own beloved third corps, whom he had till
now held in reserve; his stormers of Düppel—against the foe, which meant
that he would have to set his last hazard on the die to gain the victory.
Suddenly Bismarck lowered the glass through which he had been observing
the country in the direction from which the Crown Prince was approaching,
and drew the attention of his neighbors to certain lines in the far
distance. All telescopes were pointed thitherward, but the lines were
pronounced to be ploughed fields. There was a deep silence, and then the
Minister-President lowered his glass again and said, decidedly, “Those
are not plough furrows; the spaces are not equal; they are marching
lines!” Bismarck had been the first to discover the advance of the second
army. In a little while the adjutants and intelligence flew about in
every direction—the Crown Prince and victory were at hand!
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Prince Frederick Charles sent forward his major, Von Unger-Manstein, and
the Brandenburg brigade of Düppel marched forward, playing, “_Heil dir im
Siegerkranz!_”[53]
The rest need not be told here. Bismarck followed his King in the battle.
The warlike monarch dashed into the grenade fire of the enemy, on which
Bismarck made him pause, and said, “As a major I have no right to counsel
your Majesty on the battle-field, but as Minister-President it is my duty
to beg your Majesty not to seek evident danger!” With a friendly smile,
the royal hero replied, “How can I ride off when my army is under fire?”
[Illustration]
In the evening Bismarck reached Horitz; there he thought to pass
the night on the open road; and had already laid himself down under
an open colonnade, when the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg, who heard of
the circumstance, sent for him to his quarters. Who could tell, even
remotely, what were the feelings and thoughts of Bismarck that took
their course through his heart and head on that eventful night? And on
the following day he rode behind his victorious monarch, deeper and
ever deeper into the land of the vanquished enemy, from Bohemia into
Moravia. Certainly Bismarck was grateful for the great victory; but a
deep seriousness sat upon his countenance, for he knew that he was riding
towards the silent battle-field where _he_ was commander-in-chief, and
where _he_ had to be the victor.
On his road he wrote the following letters to his wife:—
Hohenmauth, Monday, 9th July, 1866.
Do you remember, my heart, how, nineteen years ago, we passed
through here on the road from Prague to Vienna? No mirror
showed the future—not even when I passed over this railway,
in 1852, with the kind Lynar. We are all well. If we do not
become extravagant in our demands, and do not imagine that
we have conquered _the world_, we shall obtain a peace worth
the having. But we are as easily intoxicated as cast down,
and I have the unthankful office of pouring water into this
foaming wine, and to cause it to be understood that we do not
inhabit Europe alone, but with three neighbors. The Austrians
are encamped in Moravia, and we are already so daring as to
affirm that our head-quarters will to-morrow be where theirs
are to-day. Prisoners are still arriving, and cannon since
the 3d to the number of one hundred and eighty. If they bring
up their southern army, with God’s gracious assistance, we
will beat that also. Confidence is general. Our people are
worthy to be kissed; every man is brave to the death, quiet,
obedient, moralized, with empty stomachs, wet clothes, little
sleep, boot-soles falling off—friendly towards every one, no
plundering and burning, paying what they are able, and eating
mouldy bread. There must exist a depth of piety in our common
soldier, or all this could not be. It is difficult to obtain
any news of friends. We lie miles away from each other; no one
knows where the other may be, and there is no one to send—that
is to say, plenty of men, but no horses. For four days I have
been seeking for Philip,[54] who has been slightly wounded in
the head by a lance-thrust, as G. wrote me word, but I can not
discover where he lies, and now we have proceeded eight miles
farther. The King exposed himself very greatly on the 3d, and
it was well that I was with him, for all the warnings of others
were in vain, and no one else would have dared to have spoken
as I did on the last occasion, when I succeeded, after a knot
of ten cuirassiers and fifteen horses of the 6th Cuirassier
Regiment were rolling around in their blood, and bombs were
flying about in very unpleasant proximity to our Sovereign.
The worst of them, fortunately, did not explode. Yet I would
rather have it so than that he should be over-prudent. He was
full of enthusiasm at his troops, and justly; so that he never
remarked the noise and fighting around him, and sat quiet and
comfortably, as if at Kreuzberg, continually coming across
battalions whom he had to thank and say “Good-night” to, until
we had got under fire again. He had to listen to so much on the
subject, however, that he will let it alone for the future,
and you may rest quite tranquil. I hardly believe in another
_real_ battle.
If you receive no news from any one, you may be assured that
he is alive and well, for any wounds to friends we hear of
in less than twenty-four hours. We have not as yet come into
contact with Herwarth and Steinmetz; therefore I have also not
seen Sch., but I know that both are well. G. leads his squadron
quietly forward with his arm in a sling. Farewell. I must go to
duty. Your most faithful
V. B.
* * * * *
Zwittau in Moravia, 11th July, 1866.
I am in want of an inkstand, all being in use; otherwise I am
well, after sleeping well on a field-bed and air-mattress, and
awakening at eight to find a letter from you. I had gone to bed
at eleven. At Königsgrätz I rode the tall roan; was thirteen
hours in the saddle without fodder. He behaved very well, was
frightened neither at the firing nor the corpses, ate corn-tops
and plum-leaves with satisfaction at the most difficult
moments, and went thoroughly well to the end, when I seemed
more tired than the horse. My first bed for the night was on
the roadway of Horic, without straw, with the aid of a carriage
cushion. Every place was full of the wounded; the Grand Duke
of Mecklenburg found me, and then shared his chamber with me,
R., and two adjutants—which, on account of the rain, was very
welcome to me. As to the King and the bombs, I have already
informed you. The generals all were full of the superstition
that, as soldiers, they dared not speak to the King of danger,
and always sent me to him, although I am a major. The rising
trigger of the revolver covers the sight point, and the notch
in the top of the cock does not show in the line of sight. Tell
T. of this. Good-bye, my dearest; I must go to S. Your faithful
V. B.
Nicolsburg! It was there that Bismarck fought his quiet battle, there
he accomplished his Sadowa, and chivalrously strove for victory and
peace, not alone against the diplomacy of his antagonists, but against
the proud daring of triumph in his own camp, which encircled him in so
heart-warming and so seductive a manner. Perhaps Bismarck never showed
himself a greater statesman than in those days; the billows of victory
could not overthrow him, mightily as they dashed over him; he stood
like a tower in the torrent of rancor, anger, even of most malicious
suspicion, which rose up against him. But he perceived the hollow-eyed
ghost of pest silently creeping through the armies, and pitilessly
strangling out the life of the victors; he knew what the climate of
Hungary was in August, and he looked boldly at the cloud which was
rising, pregnant with calamity, in the far west. Hail to the faithful and
brave hearts who in so terrible an hour clung firmly to Bismarck!
It was a strange coincidence that the magnificent castle of Nicolsburg
had passed through the female line from the inheritance of the
great house of the Princes of Dietrichstein to General Count von
Mensdorff-Ponilly, of Lothringian descent, like the Austrian Imperial
House itself, so that peace was actually negotiated in the very mansion
of the Imperial Minister for Foreign Affairs himself. Has not the Count
Mensdorff-Ponilly, as the heir of the Dietrichsteins through his wife,
been recently raised to princely rank under the title of Nicolsburg?
[Illustration]
As Napoleon the First resided here after the battle of Austerlitz,
so did William I. reside here after the battle of Sadowa; the castle
has historical recollections enough. Count Bismarck contemplated the
magnificent pile on his arrival intently, and then said with grave mirth
to his companions: “My old mansion of Schönhausen is certainly very
insignificant in comparison with this splendid building, therefore I am
better pleased that we should be here at Count Mensdorff’s, than that he
should now be at my house!”
In these final days of July the preliminaries of Nicolsburg were
completed, which resulted in the peace of Prague.
The battle was over, victory had been attained; then weakness and illness
assailed Bismarck, worse than ever. The old pains of nervous rheumatism
came more terribly than before; but he kept himself up by the power of
the will, for his King was still in want of him.
On the 3d of August Bismarck wrote to his wife, on his return from
Prague—“that fated city, where heroes sicken”—as follows:—
Prague, 3d August, 1866.
I have stolen away from the railway station, and am waiting
here alone, and without luggage, until the King arrives, and
after him my packages. This moment of compulsory inactivity I
employ in greeting you from hence, and telling you that I am
well, and hope to be in Berlin to-morrow night. The King is in
excellent health. The multitudes between here and the station
are so packed that I fear there will be accidents.
_Evening._—The King came quicker than I expected, and since
then we have had business of all kinds, and then dinner. I
have just returned from a drive with His Majesty through
Hradschin, the Belvedere, etc., and have seen all the beauties
of the Prague neighborhood. In a few days it will be just
nineteen years since we saw all these things together. How many
wonders had to take place ere I should find myself to-day in
the same place, without B. _Hei cerstwa!_ I had remembered to
my coachman’s great satisfaction. To-morrow we hope to be in
Berlin. There is great controversy as to the speech from the
throne. The little people have all of them not enough to do;
they see no farther than their own noses, and exercise their
powers of natation on the stormy waves of eloquence. One can
manage to settle with one’s enemies—but alas for one’s friends!
They have all got blinkers on, and only see a spot of the earth.
This reference to the speech from the throne in the letter probably
touches especially on the question of indemnity.
There was something peculiar about this indemnity which Bismarck demanded
and obtained from the Diet which was immediately summoned after the war.
The word sounded very harsh to the ears of the victors; and there are
many honorable men at the present day who still painfully feel that
Bismarck considered it necessary then to obtain this indemnity. Certainly
the wearied statesman did not fight this new fight for the indemnity from
any affection for the doctrine of Constitutionalism.
On the 4th of August Bismarck returned, in the suite of the King, to
Berlin, amidst the nameless rejoicings of the nation. On the next day
came the solemn opening of the Diet, and a torrent of work overwhelmed
the Minister-President. Then ensued the peace-treaties with individual
States, the consolidation of the conquered provinces, the formation of
the North German Confederation, cares as to envious malice; and through
all this the suffering man held himself up, pale, but firm, sustained by
his high sense of duty, by the consciousness of his supreme mission. For
days and hours the powers of Bismarck, stretched to their utmost tension,
gave way, but he always recovered himself, presenting an undaunted front
in every direction.
This, indeed, was necessary; for the victorious war had brought him no
rest. The relations towards the West were growing more and more menacing;
the cloud he had perceived from Nicolsburg was assuming form. It could no
longer be compared at will to a weasel or a camel. Had the cloud obtained
a name, a new war on the Rhine was almost unavoidable, a war in which
Prussia would unquestionably have to shed her blood only for the laurels,
without winning the fruits, of victory. Such a war, however, Bismarck
desired—was indeed forced—to avoid from a sense of duty. Let us allow a
Frenchman to relate in what manner he accomplished this task.
A long essay was published in the _Revue Moderne_ of Paris, by J.
Vilbort, under the title of “Germany since Sadowa.” Contained in this is
the speech on territorial compensations, demanded by France in August,
1866, at the very time when the rejoicings in Prussia were at their
height.
“On the 7th of August,” says M. Vilbort, “we took our leave of M. de
Bismarck, from whom we had received, before, during, and after the war,
a consistently kind reception, for which we are bound to express our
liveliest acknowledgments. About 10 P.M. we were in the study of the
Premier, when M. Benedette, the French ambassador, was announced. ‘Will
you take a cup of tea in the salon?’ M. de Bismarck said to me. ‘I
will be yours in a moment.’ Two hours passed away; midnight struck; one
o’clock. Some twenty persons, his family and intimate friends, awaited
their host. At last he appeared, with a cheerful face and a smile upon
his lips. Tea was taken; there was smoking and beer, in German fashion.
Conversation turned, pleasantly or seriously, on Germany, Italy, and
France. Rumors of a war with France were then current for the tenth time
in Berlin. At the moment of my departure, I said:—‘M. le Ministre, will
you pardon me a very indiscreet question? Do I take war or peace with me
back to Paris?’ M. de Bismarck replied, with animation, ‘Friendship, a
lasting friendship with France! I entertain the firmest hope that France
and Prussia, in the future, will represent the dualism of intelligence
and progress.’ Nevertheless, it seemed to us that at these words we
surprised a singular smile on the lips of a man who is destined to play
a distinguished part in Prussian politics, the Privy Councillor Baron
von ——. We visited him the next morning, and admitted to him how much
reflection this smile had caused us. ‘You leave for France to-night,’ he
replied; ‘well, give me your word of honor to preserve the secret I am
about to confide to you until you reach Paris. Ere a fortnight is past
we shall have war on the Rhine, if France insists upon her territorial
demands. She asks of us what we neither will nor can give. Prussia
will not cede an inch of German soil; we can not do so without raising
the whole of Germany against us, and, if it be necessary, let it rise
against France rather than ourselves.’ This step of the Cabinet of the
Tuileries, especially impolitic and unskillful at such a moment, served
M. de Bismarck, on the other hand, in all his German undertakings. He
found in it an irresistible argument to prove the necessity of great
armaments against France, while, at the same time, his refusal to give up
the smallest portion of German territory elevated the dignity of Prussia
in the eyes of all patriots; nor did it benefit the Minister less, who
thus upheld the national standard high and firmly in the sight of the
foreigner. Thus it happened that, after half a century, the Napoleonistic
policy for the second time divided two great nations, who, by their
intellectual, moral, and material development, by all their interests and
aspirations, are destined to form a fraternal alliance, and thus insure
the freedom and peace of Europe on an infrangible basis.”
[Illustration]
On the 20th of September, 1866, Bismarck, after a short rest, was able to
assume the place of honor which was his due in the memorable triumphant
entry of the troops to Berlin, as Major-General and Chief of the Seventh
Heavy Landwehr Regiment of Horse, to which his grateful Sovereign had
appointed him. Immediately before the King there rode, in one rank,
Count Bismarck, the War Minister General von Roon, General von Moltke,
the Chief of the General Staff, General von Voigts-Rheetz as Chief of
the General Staff of the First Army, and General von Blumenthal as Chief
of the General Staff of the Second; while the King was immediately
followed by the Royal Princes and other commanders. There was a great and
intelligent recognition in this Royal order of arrangement.
As may be understood, the loud rejoicings on the occasion of this
magnificent festival of victory were in honor of the Army and its Royal
Commander-in-Chief; but many an eye followed, with grateful admiration
and emotion, the powerful form of the Minister-President, in the white
uniform, with the yellow collar and accoutrements of his regiment,
wearing the orange sash of the Exalted Order of the Black Eagle on his
broad chest, his flashing helmet being deeply pressed over his forehead,
astride of his tall horse, riding along in so stately a manner, and
occasionally saluting a friend, here and there, in a courteous way.
Scarcely one of the multitude whose acclamations met his ear even
suspected that the mighty man, in intolerable pain, could scarcely keep
himself upright in the saddle.
[Illustration]
Nor could Bismarck altogether withdraw himself from the patriotic
festivals which accompanied and followed the triumphant entry of the
army. Too much was wanting where he was absent. We then saw him at
the monster dinner which was given in honor of him, and to Generals
Von Roon and Von Moltke, by an enthusiastic assembly, formed of men
of all parties. Zealous democrats then applauded the great statesman,
and whoever was present on that occasion would have believed that
Bismarck was also popular, in the ordinary sense of the word. When the
Minister-President, in the pithy speech in which he acknowledged the
toast pledged in his honor, said that the Berlin people, as this war
had shown, had their hearts, words, and hands in the right place, the
enthusiasm knew no bounds, and the guests rushed from all quarters
to pledge him again. When the storm had become somewhat allayed, the
Director, Dr. Bonnell, of the Friedrich’s Werder Gymnasium, was seen to
step forward.
[Illustration]
Bismarck seized his early teacher by both hands, and thanked him
heartily for a poetic greeting with which he had presented him on his
return, merrily regretting that he had not been able to reply in Alcaic
verse. The Chief Burgomaster, sitting opposite him, asked whether the
Minister-President sent his sons to the same institution. “Certainly,”
answered Bismarck; “and I myself was also a scholar of Bonnell!” And so
introduced his old teacher in the heartiest manner.
After this festival, Bismarck’s last strength failed him. He went
into the country to Patbus, when he fell very ill, and only gradually
recovered after a long time, and then not wholly, but just enough to
admit of his return to business at Berlin in December.
CHAPTER IV.
MAJOR-GENERAL AND CHANCELLOR OF THE FEDERATION.
Conversation with M. de Vilbort.—Appearance as Chancellor.—M.
Bamberger’s Views.—Bismarck as an Orator.—The Luxemburg
Question.—Fall from his Horse.—Citizenship of Bülow.—Visit to
Holstein.—Speech to a Torchlight Procession.
From the Paris journal, _Le Siècle_, we extract the following report of a
conversation which Count Bismarck had with a Parisian journalist on the
10th of June, 1866:
“On my arrival at Berlin, I was informed that M. de Bismarck was quite
inaccessible. I was told, ‘Do not attempt to see him; you will only lose
time. He receives no one, but lives in the recesses of his cabinet, shut
in with treble-locked doors. He only leaves it to wait upon the King, and
his closest advisers can scarcely obtain access to him.’ Nevertheless,
I ventured to request an audience of the Prime Minister of the King of
Prussia. M. de Bismarck immediately sent word that he would receive me in
the evening.
“When I entered that study—where the peace of Europe, as it were, was
hanging by a thread, but which I found was only guarded by a bolt—I saw
before me a man of tall stature, and of animated countenance. On his
broad, high, and smooth forehead, I perceived with some surprise the
presence of much benevolence, mingled with persistency. Monsieur de
Bismarck is fair and somewhat bald; he wears a military mustache, and
speaks rather with soldier-like brevity than with diplomatic caution. His
air is that of the aristocrat and courtier, improved by all the charm of
the most polished courtesy. He advanced to receive me, took me by the
hand, led me to a seat, and offered me a cigar.
[Illustration: MAJOR-GENERAL AND CHANCELLOR OF THE CONFEDERATION.]
“‘Monsieur le Ministre,’ I said to him after a little preliminary
conversation, ‘I, like many of my countrymen, am most anxious to be
thoroughly enlightened on the true interests of the German nation.
Permit me, therefore, to express myself with entire frankness. I am glad
to confess that, in her foreign policy, Prussia seems, at the present
time, to be pursuing objects with which the French nation sympathizes
in no ordinary manner, such as the complete emancipation of Italy from
Austrian influence, and the establishment of an united Germany, based on
universal suffrage. But is there not a flat contradiction between your
Prussian and German policies? You declare a national parliament to be the
only fountain in which Germany can find rejuvenescence, the only form
of supreme authority by which she can realize her future destiny. Yet,
at the same time, you treat the Second Chamber at Berlin in the manner
of Louis XIV., when he entered the Houses of Parliament whip in hand.
In France we do not admit the possibility of any association between
absolutism and democracy; and, to speak the whole truth, allow me to
state to you that in Paris your plan of a national parliament has not
been considered as a serious one. It has been looked upon as an acutely
constructed engine of war, and it is generally believed that you are
quite the man to break it up when it has served your purpose, the moment
it seems to have become inconvenient or useless.’
“‘_A la bonne heure_, you go at once to the root of things,’ replied
M. de Bismarck. ‘In France, I know, I am as unpopular as in Germany.
Everywhere I am held responsible for a state of things I did not create,
but which has been forced upon me as upon every one else. I am the
scapegoat of public opinion; but that does not much trouble me. I follow
out a plan, with a perfectly calm conscience, which I consider useful to
my country and to Germany.
“‘As to the means to this end, I have used those within my reach,
for want of others. Much might be said as to the internal condition
of Prussia. To judge of it impartially, it is necessary to study the
peculiar character of the people of this country in the most thorough
way. France and Italy are now compact social polities, each animated
by one spirit and one sentiment; while, on the contrary, Germany is
given up to individualism. Here, every one lives apart in his own
narrow corner, with his own opinions; his wife and children round him;
ever suspicious of the Government, as of his neighbor; judging every
thing from his personal point of view, and never from general grounds.
The sentiment of individualism and the necessity for contradiction are
developed to an inconceivable degree in the German. Show him an open
door, and, rather than pass through it, he will insist on breaking a
hole in the wall at its side. No government however it may act, will be
popular in Prussia; the majority in the country will always be opposed to
it; simply from its being the Government, and holding authority over the
individual, it is condemned to be constantly opposed by the moderates,
and decried and despised by the ultras. This has been the common fate of
all successive governments since the beginning of the dynasty. Neither
liberal ministers, nor reactionary ministers, have found favor with our
politicians.’
“And while thus passing in review the various governments and forms of
rule which have existed since the foundation of the monarchy, M. de
Bismarck strove to prove to me, in brilliant, graphic language, sparkling
with wit, that the Auerswalds and the Manteuffels had shared the same
fate as himself, and that Frederick William III., surnamed the Just, had
succeeded as little as Frederick William IV. in satisfying the Prussian
nation.
“‘They shouted,’ he added, ‘at the victories of Frederick the Great, but
at his death they rubbed their hands at the thought of being delivered
from the tyrant. Despite this antagonism, there exists a deep attachment
to the royal house. No sovereign or minister, no government, can win the
favor of Prussian individualism. Yet all cry from the depths of their
hearts, “God save the King!” And they obey when the King commands.’
“‘Yet some say, M. le Ministre, that this discontent might grow into
rebellion.’
“‘The Government does not believe this need be feared, and does not fear
it. Our revolutionists are not formidable. Their hostility exhausts
itself in invectives against the Prime Minister, but they respect the
King. It is I who have done all the evil, and it is with me alone that
they are angry. Were they a little more impartial, perhaps they might
see that I have not acted otherwise, simply because I could not. In
Prussia’s present position in Germany, and with Austria opposed to her,
an army was an imperative necessity. In Prussia it is the only force
capable of discipline. I do not know if that is a French word?’
“‘Certainly, M. le Ministre, and in France can also be applied.’
“‘A Prussian who got his arm broken in a barricade,’ continued M. de
Bismarck, ‘would go home crestfallen, and his wife would look upon him as
a madman; but in the army he is an admirable soldier, and fights like a
lion for the honor of his country. A party opposed to the Government has
not chosen to recognize the necessity imposed on us by circumstances of
maintaining a large military force, evident as that necessity has been.
But I could not hesitate, for my own part; by family, by education, I
am the King’s man; and the King adhered to the idea of this military
organization as firmly as to his crown, being convinced, heart and soul,
of its indispensability. No one could make him yield or compromise the
point. At his age—he is seventy—and with his traditions, people persist
in an idea; above all, if they feel it to be good. On the subject of the
army, I should add, I entirely agree with his view.
“‘Sixteen years ago I was living as a country gentleman, when the
King appointed me the Envoy of Prussia at the Frankfurt Diet. I had
been brought up in the admiration, I might almost say the worship, of
Austrian policy. Much time, however, was not needed to dispel my youthful
illusions with regard to Austria, and I became her declared opponent.
“‘The humiliation of my country; Germany sacrificed to the interests
of a foreign nation; a crafty and perfidious line of policy—these were
not things calculated to give me satisfaction. I was not aware that the
future would call upon me to take any part in public events, but from
that period I conceived the idea, which at the present day I am still
pursuing, the idea of snatching Germany from Austrian oppression, or at
least that part of Germany whose tone of thought, religion, manners, and
interests, identify her destinies with Prussia—Northern Germany. In the
plan which I brought forward, there has been no question of overthrowing
thrones, of taking a duchy from one ruler, or some petty domain from
another; nor would the King have consented to such schemes. And then
there are all the interests of family relationship and concessions, a
host of antagonistic influences, against which I have had to sustain an
hourly warfare.
“‘But neither all this, nor the opposition with which I have had to
contend in Prussia, could prevent my devoting myself, heart and soul, to
the idea of a Northern Germany, constituted in her logical and natural
form, under the ægis of Prussia. To attain this end I would brave all
dangers, exile, the scaffold itself! I said to the Crown Prince, whose
education and natural tendencies incline him rather to the side of
parliamentary government, what matter if they hang me, provided the rope
by which I am hung bind this new Germany firmly to your throne?’
“‘May I also ask, M. le Ministre, how you reconcile the principle of
freedom, embodied in the existence of a national parliament, with the
despotic treatment to which the Berlin Chamber has had to submit? How,
above all, have you been able to induce the King, the representative of
the principle of divine right, to accept universal suffrage, which is
_par excellence_ the principle of democracy?’
“M. de Bismarck answered with animation: ‘That is a victory achieved
after four years of struggle. When the King sent for me, four years ago,
the situation of affairs was most critical. His Majesty laid before me
a long list of liberal concessions, but not one of these concerned the
military question. I said to the King, “I accept; and the more liberal
the Government can prove itself the stronger it will be.” The Chamber has
been obdurate on one side, and the Crown on the other. In the conflict
I have remained by the King. My respect for him, all my antecedents,
all the traditions of my family, made it my duty to do so. But that
I am, either by nature or from principle, an adversary of national
representation, a born enemy of parliamentary government, is a perfectly
gratuitous supposition.
“‘During those discussions, when the Chamber of Berlin set itself in
opposition to a line of policy imposed on Prussia by circumstances of
most pressing necessity, I would not separate myself from the King.
But no one has a right to insult me by the supposition that I am only
mystifying Germany in bringing forward my project of a parliament. Should
the day come when, my task being accomplished, I find it impossible to
reconcile my duties to my Sovereign with my duties as a statesman, I
shall know how to retire without denying the work I have done.’
“Such are substantially,” says M. Vilbort in conclusion, “the political
opinions expressed to me by M. de Bismarck. His thoughts conveyed by my
pen, in another form, may have lost to some extent their emphasis; but I
have anxiously endeavored faithfully to reproduce them.”
We have placed this report of the intellectual Frenchman here on purpose,
because Count Bismarck, independently of other interesting remarks, has
given indications as to the course of his future policy not easily to
be misunderstood; for it may readily be conceived that we do not feel
called upon to enlarge upon Bismarck’s policy in the last three years.
What he has done in this period, and how he has done it, is vivid before
the eyes of every one, and fresh in every one’s memory, and there is
scarcely time yet to incorporate it with history. Our readers will have
convinced themselves, that in contradistinction to others, we do not find
the last deeds and speeches of Bismarck inconsistent with his earlier
acts and speeches; and we think we have demonstrated that the Bismarck
of to-day has developed consequently from the Bismarck of 1847—that the
great aristocratic statesman is still the “King’s man,” as he then was
the “Junker Hotspur,” or conservative party leader. The demand for the
so-called indemnity, the amnesty, the direct elections, and all those
things which are sometimes praised and sometimes blamed and designated
“Bismarck’s contradictions,” are only apparent contradictions, at once
to be explained if thoroughly examined. It is very easy to hold very
different opinions on many points from those of Bismarck, and warmly as
we admire him, we do not regard him as infallible; but we think that it
is necessary to be very careful in censuring his individual political
acts, even where such unpleasant surprises occur, for actually a quite
incomparable political instinct has fitted him for leadership, and has
caused him to discover ways and means not existing in any programme,
sometimes coming into severe collision with theory, but in practice
either have or will have great blessings in them for the Prussian kingdom
and the German people.
We have depicted Bismarck in person at various ages; of latter years
he has altered but little at first sight. Those who have only seen
him in the distance at the Chamber or the Diet, looking round with his
eye-glass, looking through papers, or playing with his pencil, will only
have seen the tall form in the King’s plain blue uniform, with a single
Order—a cross hanging from the neck. It is necessary to draw nearer to
observe that time has done more than pass with a friendly greeting by the
Chancellor of the Diet. Such years of service as those of Bismarck, in
this period of his life, count double, like soldiers’ years. Bismarck,
according to this calculation, is more than fifty-four years of age.
[Illustration]
As an orator, too, the Chancellor of the Diet is almost the same as
of old, only he has grown quieter. A member of the Diet, Herr L.
Bamberger, describes him in his book as follows:[55]—“Count Bismarck is
certainly no orator in the usual sense of the word, yet, in spite of
many defects in his delivery, he commands the attention of his audience
by the evident force with which his thoughts work within him. It seems,
besides, as if the habit of speaking in public, and especially the
certainty which is so requisite, and which he now possesses of obtaining
the ear of his audience, has materially contributed of late years to
the development of his parliamentary faculty. Yet in the year 1866, one
of his admirers, who had attended a sitting of the Reichstag, drew his
portrait in the following terms:—‘No oratorical ornamentation, no choice
of words, nothing which carries the audience away. His voice, although
clear and audible, is dry and unsympathetic, the tone monotonous; he
interrupts himself, and stops frequently; sometimes even he stutters,
as if his recalcitrant tongue refused obedience, and as if he had
difficulty in finding words in which to express his thoughts. His uneasy
movements, somewhat lolling and negligent, in no wise aid the effect
of his delivery. Still, the longer he speaks, the more he overcomes
these defects; he attains more precision of expression, and often ends
with a well-delivered, vigorous—sometimes, as every one is aware, too
vigorous—peroration.’” “It should be added,” observes Herr Bamberger,[56]
“that his style, although unstudied, is often not wanting in imagery. His
bright and clear intellect does not despise coloring, any more than his
strong constitution is free from nervous irritability.”
The same author says at another part of his book,[57] “To an opponent he
can be provoking, malicious, even malignant; but he is not treacherous;
he offends against morality and justice, but against good taste, by
pathetic appeals, never. He is not of the tribe of paragraph writers
who imagine that the world is governed by fine phrases, and that public
evils are to be mastered by wrapping them up in pompous commonplaces. On
the contrary, he is one of those who delight in heightening a contrast
by exaggeration, and who thus overshoot their mark. What induced him
to confess his principle of blood and iron at that committee meeting?”
The instance is very unhappily chosen, without considering that by a
blunder the so-called blood-and-iron theory is written, _Principe du fer
et du feu_,[58] for Bismarck never proclaimed this theory, with which
Philisters are made to shudder, at all. In an actually peaceable sense
there was a reference at that committee meeting of the 1st September,
1862, as to sparing the effusion of blood and the use of iron. But it
is useless to say this, and to reiterate it; Bismarck has been credited
with the blood-and-iron theory, and his it will remain, for it has been
proverbial as a “winged word.”[59]
Another description of Bismarck as an orator (by Glagau) we extract from
the _Daheim_.
“The chivalrous personality of Count Bismarck, his easy carriage, and,
above all, his universal fame as a diplomatist and statesman, lead us
to expect him also to be a brilliant speaker; either one who could
bring forth a deeply meditated, well arranged speech without hesitation
or trouble, in an elegant flow, or, still more, a speaker of natural
eloquence, whose thoughts and figures arise in the soul during his
speech, the play of whose words and rhetorical figures, born of the
moment, leap in winged dance from the lips, who poetizes in his speech
like an improvisatore, whose lightning thoughts and catchwords hit the
mark, moving, and burning the hearts of his auditors. Neither of these.
Certainly, a few moments before, with a swift pen, he has written a few
notes on a narrow slip of paper, which looks like a recipe, over which
he, while turning his thumbs one over the other, balancing the upper
part of his body backwards and forwards, and speaking to the House,
occasionally casts a glance; but, nevertheless, he stops, and hesitates,
even sometimes stammers and repeats himself; he appears to struggle with
his thoughts, and the words clamber over his lips in a half-reluctant
way. After two or three words he continually pauses, and one seems
to hear an inarticulate sob. He speaks without gestures, pathos, and
intonation, without laying a stress on any particular word; sometimes he
accentuates the final syllable or the halting verb in a manner totally
wrong. Can this be the man who has now a parliamentary career of twenty
years behind him?—who already belonged in the Diet of 1847, as Deputy of
the Saxon chivalry, to the leaders and promptest speakers of the then
exceeding extreme right; who set the liberal majority into excitement
and rage in 1849 and 1850, as a member of the Second Chamber and of
the Erfurt Union Parliament; who, finally, has, almost singly, opposed
a closed phalanx of progressists, as Minister-President, since 1862,
repaying their emotional speeches, full of self-confidence and security,
in almost the same coin, replying to their mocking and malicious attacks
upon him on the spot, and with flashing presence of mind even exciting
them to the combat by witty impromptus and cutting sarcasms, often
wounding them to the soul?
[Illustration]
“Yes, it is the same man; and, when requisite, he is as acute and biting
as of yore, although, since his great victories, he has adopted more
of statesmanlike earnestness, quiet objectivity, and a conciliating
carriage, corresponding to his present universally admitted greatness.
Gradually his speech begins to flow and to warm, and soon unfolds its
especial charm—that original and fresh, free and straightforward mode of
expression to which we, in our commonplace days, were quite unaccustomed.
Hence it has been called by his opponents ‘paradoxical,’ ‘frivolous,’
and ‘scholastic.’ We are indebted to them for a whole vocabulary of
sentences, such as ‘Cataline existences,’ ‘People who have missed their
vocation,’ ‘Blood and iron,’ ‘Austria should transfer her centre of
gravity to Ofen,’ ‘This conflict must not be taken too tragically,’ and
which soon became proverbially current, and, in the mean time, have
revealed their deep truth and apposite precision. How true and exact,
and, at the same time, how colored and tangible, is his definition of the
national character of the Germans, on the occasion of the introduction of
the Bill for the Constitution of the Confederation, which has hitherto
prevented the attainment of a great united fatherland. ‘It is, as it
seems to me,’ says Count Bismarck, ‘a certain superfluity in the feelings
of manly self-consciousness which in Germany causes the individual, the
community, the race, to depend more upon their own powers than upon those
of the totality. It is the deficiency of that readiness of the individual
and the race to merge itself in favor of the commonwealth, that readiness
which has enabled our neighbor nations to secure, at an earlier period,
those benefits after which we are striving.’ And when the orator, at the
end of his speech, exhorts the House to fulfill their task as soon and as
perfectly as possible, he continues:—‘For the German nation, gentlemen,
has a right to expect from us that we should preclude the possibility
of a recurrence of such a catastrophe (_i.e._, a German war); and I am
convinced that you, together with the allied government, have nothing
so nearly at heart as to fulfill this just anticipation of the German
nation.’ With this beautiful exhortation, simply, but worthily and
warmly, uttered, like the greatest of orators, he electrified the whole
assembly, for tumultuous applause resounded from all the benches.”
Next to the Reichstag of the North German Confederation, the Luxemburg
question, in the year 1867, principally drew attention to Bismarck.
Probably many of those who in the pride of recent victory then demanded
war for the former Federal fortress, have become convinced that
Bismarck’s measured attitude was full of high political wisdom. At
Bismarck’s dinner-table, a short time after Luxemburg had been declared
neutral, a learned man gave it as his opinion that Prussia ought to
have made it a _casus belli_ with France. Bismarck answered very
seriously:—“My dear Professor, such a war would have cost us at least
thirty thousand brave soldiers, and in the best event would have brought
us no gain. Whoever has once looked into the breaking eye of a dying
warrior on the battle-field, will pause ere he begins a war.” And, after
dinner, when he was walking in the garden with some guests, he stopped
on a lawn, and related how he had paced to and fro upon this place in
disquiet and deep emotion in those momentous days of June. He awaited the
royal decision in an anguish of fear. When he came indoors again, his
wife asked what had happened that he looked so overcome. “I am excited
for the very reason that nothing has happened,” he replied, and went into
his study. A few minutes later, shortly before midnight, he received the
royal decision—the declaration of war.
From the 5th to the 14th of June, 1867, Count Bismarck remained at Paris
in the suite of the King, where he became an object of general attention.
The Parisians could not picture our Minister-President in any other way
than in his white uniform of Cuirassiers. A regular flood of generally
horribly bad pictures of him were sold at a sou per copy—the white
uniform alone showing that Bismarck was the subject.
From the end of June to the beginning of August he visited his family at
Varzin, an estate in Farther Pomerania, which he had bought in the spring.
On the 14th of July, 1867, he was appointed Chancellor of the North
German Confederation, went in the beginning of August to the King at
Ems, and on the 15th of August opened the session of the Council of the
Federation at Berlin. On the 15th of November the Diet was opened, and
on the 29th of February, 1868, it was closed. On the 23d of March the
Reichstag of the North German Confederation was opened, and to this the
Customs Parliament was added; it was no wonder, therefore, that under
the gigantic load of work the strength of the Minister-President at last
gave way altogether. In the June of 1868 he was taken seriously ill, and
it was only at the end of the month that he was able to go to Varzin,
where, in complete retirement and entire abstinence from all regular
business, he very slowly mended; but was not able to regain his strength,
in consequence of nervous sleeplessness. He seemed to feel the obstacles
to his activity even more than all his illness. “Send me no secretary
hither, or I shall go to work again!” he was heard querulously to
exclaim. Despite of all public notifications, a flood of letters pursued
him to Varzin; the whole correspondence, as might be naturally supposed,
had to be returned unopened to Berlin, where it was estimated that during
this stay at Varzin the Minister-President had been solicited for aid to
the extent of not less than a million and a half of thalers.[60]
When at last he had grown somewhat better, Bismarck had the misfortune,
on the 21st of August, to have a dangerous fall from his horse. He
had gone out riding with his friends, Moritz von Blankenburg and the
Legation’s Rath von Keudell, on a meadow near Puddiger, one of his farms,
a German mile and a quarter from Varzin; his horse put his foot into a
hole, fell, and fell with all its weight upon his body. So severe a fall
might have had still sadder results, but such as they were they were
sad enough, and weeks of severe pain again had to be endured, often not
unmixed with many fears. At the very time when the foreign newspapers
were picturing the most secret and wonderful activity in the Chancellor,
he was lying prostrate in the most dangerous state. It need hardly be
said that most anxious looks were directed towards Varzin—that general
excitement eagerly anticipated news from thence, and that many hearts
breathed lightly again when better intelligence arrived. The news was
better than, properly speaking, it had any right to have been, but,
fortunately, it has been justified by time.
The delight at the good news from Varzin was shown in the most various
ways, especially in presents of remedies against sleeplessness. Bismarck
was particularly amused with an old soldier, who advised him to smoke a
pound of Porto Rico tobacco every day: he sent the old warrior a pipe
and a quantity of tobacco, with the request that he would be so good as
to smoke for him.
On the 1st of October the Burgomaster of Bülow arrived, with a deputation
of the magistracy and town council, and brought the Minister-President
the honorary diploma of the citizenship of the town. Bismarck received
the gentlemen from Bülow with special friendliness, and said, among other
things, that he accepted the diploma with the greater satisfaction, as
Bülow had ever shown itself a patriotic and loyal city. After dinner, he
offered the deputation the hospitality of his house for the night. But
the respectable citizens declared that they had promised their careful
and inquisitive wives to return before midnight, and that they must,
therefore, keep their words. On this the Countess turned merrily to her
husband and said: “As you are now also a citizen of Bülow, I should be
very glad if you would, from this time, follow the good example of your
colleagues of Bülow!” Bismarck laughed and shrugged his shoulders, but
returned no answer.
The fresh and vigorous manner with which Bismarck has since returned
to his duties, allows us to hope that his long and severe illness is
quite at an end. He has certainly never thought of sparing himself when
duty called; but he takes part freely in hunting parties, for the free
air of the forest is his best medicine, and in the month of December he
was present at several parties in the Province of Saxony, in the Mark,
and even in Holstein. In Holstein, at Ahrensburg, where he hunted for
two days with Count Schimmelmann, a brilliant torchlight procession was
formed in his honor.
On the 13th of December, shortly before the Count’s departure, a long
train of several hundred people, young and old, with two hundred
flaming pitch torches, appeared in the castle-yard, preceded by a
band, and followed by sixty mounted yeomanry. After the leader of the
procession had announced that they had come to pay their respects to the
Minister-President, Count Bismarck approached the window, before the
crowd, and spoke to the following effect:—
“I am rejoiced that you thus salute me as a fellow-countryman, and I
thank you for the honor you do me. I see in it a proof that the feeling
of solidarity has also grown stronger and stronger with you; and of this
I shall joyfully inform the King. We have always belonged to each other
as Germans—we have ever been brothers—but we were unconscious of it. In
this country, too, there were different races: Schleswigers, Holsteiners,
and Lauenburgers; as, also, Mecklenburgers, Hanoverians, Lübeckers, and
Hamburgers exist, _and they are all free to remain what they are_, in the
knowledge that _they are Germans_—that they are brothers. And here in the
north we should be doubly aware of it, with our Platt Deutsch language,
which stretches from Holland to the Polish frontier: we _were_ also
conscious of it, but have not proclaimed it until now. But that we have
again so joyfully and vividly been able to recognize our German descent
and solidarity—for that we must thank the man whose wisdom and energy
have rendered this consciousness a truth and a fact, in bringing our King
and Lord a hearty cheer. Long live His Majesty, our most gracious King
and Sovereign, William the First!”
A threefold cheer was heard throughout the castle-yard. The torch-bearers
and pedestrians then accompanied the honored man to the railway station
hard by, where the farmers, who had led the procession on horseback, were
introduced to the Count, and were greeted by him in friendly accents. A
hurrah of many hundreds of voices followed the train as it glided away.
CHAPTER V.
A BALL AT BISMARCK’S.
Beauty and might,
With honor bedight,
Assembled by night,
Shining so bright:
And what was not flower a plant would be—
Come not for dancing, but just to see.
Interior of Bismarck’s House at Berlin.—Arrival of Guests.—The
King.—The Queen.—The Royal Princes.—The Generals.—Committee of
Story-tellers in the Refreshment Room.—Supper.—The Ball.—Home.
We have entitled this chapter, “A Ball at Bismarck’s,” for reasons
of brevity and alliteration, for in truth, at these great evening
assemblies, with supper after midnight, the ball is a secondary object
for the majority of the guests. This arrangement, entirely imported from
England, pleases us as little as the English expression “rout,” for the
principal peculiarity of it is that double the number of guests are
invited than can find room in the apartments, and such a system is very
much at variance with our old-fashioned notions of German hospitality.
The institution of a “rout” is only tolerable when the greater number
of the guests only come for a quarter of an hour, and then disappear
to attend another “rout.” The continual arrival of fresh individuals,
the continual variation in the faces, may then possess a charm of
its own. But this does not take place at Bismarck’s, for when the
“Minister-President and the Countess of Bismarck-Schönhausen” send out
their invitations, no house in Berlin has the courage to vie with them
and open its door on the same evening. The consequence of this is, that
all the guests arrive early and stop as long as ever they can. Now, as we
have already said, the apartments at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs are
exceedingly small, and thus there is a crush of which it is impossible
to form any idea unless one has seen it. Add to this the temperature of
the dog-days in the brilliantly lighted saloons, and the impossibility
of sitting down; an enjoyment only appreciated to its full extent by the
members of the Reichstag and Deputies of the Diet, who here find ample
opportunity, after their long plenary and committee sittings, to stand.
The guest reaches the first saloon by the stairs, through a forest
of tropical plants and orange-groves, with livery servants sprinkled
in, to the place where the Minister-President, in his white uniform,
with the star and collar of his Order, aided by his wife, receives the
guests, interchanging a few friendly expressions with them, and then
they enter. But after this the guest literally founders in the ocean of
dazzling light and crowds of people; it is only after a considerable
interval that a person, unless accustomed for years to these parties,
recovers his self-possession. At first he hears single words in the noise
around him; gradually he learns to understand them; and then come long
sentences which he is able to comprehend. Next comes the second stage;
he observes that he is swimming between rosy red and pale blue, clouds
of garments of various textures; he recognizes with absolute ecstasy the
golden threads which pass through these clouds; the soft sounds of the
yielding substances are varied by the sharp rustling of silk and the
brilliant gleam of crackling satin; then he perceives rounded shoulders,
shining necks, wavy locks, smiling faces—the happy man sees them all,
for he is walking towards a group of ladies. He walks? No, he rather
creeps, or pushes himself forward without lifting his feet. Beautiful
Mother Nature in her wisdom has instinctively taught him that he must
necessarily tread upon some lady’s train if he raise his foot a quarter
of a line from the floor. Thus he shoves himself along on the left flank
of the battalion, whence beautiful eyes are flashing in competition
with gold and jewels. This danger he can encounter, for all this fire
is not directed at him, the worn-out man of fifty. He is looking round
in astonishment, and then comes a sudden block, for it is impossible to
break through the new group standing right in front. Court gala uniforms,
black coats with broad bands of various orders, civil uniforms with
golden embroidery, and officers with silver—every place is taken up, and
the wearers are standing shoulder to shoulder in humming conversation.
Nothing but strange faces! Suddenly a very large hand, but of course in
a delicate glove, certainly specially made for this great, good hand, is
laid upon the arm of the anxious undecided one, a well-known face greets
him in a friendly way, and a well-known voice says, “Good-evening, dear
old fellow!” But he scarcely recognizes his tried patron and friend, for
he had never seen him in full uniform with the orange and white sash.
When, however, he sees who it is, a great feeling of satisfaction comes
over him—he is no longer alone, and he is safe. Other acquaintances
appear, remarks are interchanged, there is even recreation, but under
difficulties. People push here and there, and are pushed in return;
it is impossible to penetrate to the ball-room, but the music of the
Cuirassier Guard Regiment can be heard very well, and sometimes a servant
with a tray full of ices is captured by the more daring—a real grace in
this heat. It is very comical to hear every one complaining of want of
room and heat, and yet none of the complainants seem to have any idea of
getting rid of these disagreeables in the simplest manner in the world,
by going away!
Suddenly all the heads, decked with feathers, flowers, and jewels, bow
slowly and then rise again; it is as if the evening breeze passed gently
over the meadow, the flowers all bending up and down, hither and thither.
King William is entering, conducted by the Minister-President. The
stately royal man bows with chivalrous politeness, now to this lady,
now to that; he pronounces kind words, which are really more kind and
fewer in number than is usually the case. Here he shakes hands with one
general, there he nods to another gentleman—the path by which the King
has passed is marked by proud and happy faces. Those who feel disposed to
jeer, can not in the least know how a Prussian feels when the King’s hand
touches his own, and the King’s eye looks so grandly and mildly into his.
But to enjoy a really heart-warming sight, King William and Bismarck must
be seen together. The great hero, Prince Eugene, or Eugenio von Savoye,
as he wrote it in Italian, German, and French, once said of the three
Emperors whom he had served—“Leopold was my father, Joseph my friend,
Carl is my sovereign!” In Bismarck’s conduct towards the King may be seen
the reverence for a father, the attachment of a friend, and the fullest
respect for a sovereign. An unique spectacle, this!
[Illustration]
Now the Queen passes through the brilliant throng, dressed with royal
simplicity; she speaks with several of the members of the Reichstag.
When the sailing boat passes through the waves of the sea, when the swan
glides over the shining mirror, a silver line marks the passage they have
taken. Such a line denotes the path which the Queen had followed through
the throng.
The whole Royal House is present.
The tall stately man yonder, with the brave handsome countenance, who
looks still taller in his light blue dragoon uniform with the yellow
collar, in which he is not often seen, is the Crown Prince. He is engaged
in animated conversation with a foreign diplomatist, in a golden full
dress, and is evidently in the best of tempers. Prince Albrecht, the
King’s younger brother, passes swiftly in a frank military manner,
shaking one or the other person cordially by the hand. His elder brother,
Prince Carl, the Commander-in-Chief, is a singular contrast to him.
He stands erect and proudly in the middle of a circle, but without
stiffness. A mocking smile plays over his features; there is a remarkable
intermixture in his eyes of sharp observation and indifference. How he
brings first this person and then that to his side, without raising his
hand! This is the reproachless manner of a _grand seigneur_ of days
gone by; one can not but feel that Prince Carl still retains whole and
undivided the princely consciousness of former times. In his eyes every
one—not of princely rank—stands on the same level. Rank, titles, honors,
have no distinction in his eyes. He is as gracious to the ministers and
high dignitaries, as to the author whom he has just summoned to him. He
alone really exercises the _métier de prince_.
[Illustration]
Yonder stalwart form, with the good brave countenance, in the admiral’s
uniform, is Prince Adalbert, a cousin of the King; he is talking with
Herr von Selchow, the Minister of Agriculture, who at a distance looks
like an officer in the cavalry. All the princes of the Royal House, wear
the Cross of the Order _pour le mérite_, and therefore have all been
under fire.
Prince Frederick Carl yonder is talking with Count Eulenburg, who has
made his way through typhoons and Japan to the Ministry of the Interior.
The Prince, with his high forehead, firm bearded countenance, large eyes
with their lonely quiet expression, and spare form, in the red jacket of
the Ziethen Hussars, is the hero of Düppel and Sadowa, also a member of
the North German Reichstag.
[Illustration]
All the faces in yonder group are well known, for their portraits hang in
every window; they have written their names in the book of history with
the sword. At every step here one may greet a hero. Certainly, designed
and undesigned mistakes sometimes happen, as, for instance, that pretty
young lady can not sufficiently wonder that the valiant old Steinmetz,
the famous hero of Nachod and Skalitz, is still so young, and dresses
in private clothes. They had pointed her out a Reichstag Deputy from
Pomerania as the famous General, and left her in the error.
Through the brilliant throng and excitement, in the dazzling
illuminations and heat, children wise in their generation, and lucky dogs
who know every thing, have discovered the way to obtain a thorough course
of refreshments, which is hidden in a dark thicket yonder, and slyly wins
in semi-concealment. In noble silver vases there is cool—deliciously
cool—beer. All the thirsty souls who drink at this fount sing the praises
of Bismarck, for he has introduced this innovation. Bismarck first made
beer fashionable in Berlin _salons_. And so readily has it been received
within a short time, that even tender ladies and high princes no longer
hesitate to pay their court openly to King Gambrinus.
There is lively conversation over the beer. A wit has spread a rumor
that the delicious drink has come from Schwechat, and is a present from
the Austrian Imperial Chancellor to the Chancellor of the North German
Confederation. Some give a friendly assent to this, others kindly add,
that Bismarck has already, in return, sent some Neunaugen and Flunder
from Pomerania, to his colleague in Vienna; and why should it not be
believed? Formerly, at any rate, the most friendly and social relations
existed between Bismarck and Beust.
An old Colonel D—— mutters something like “_timeo Danaos_,” but swallows
the rest of the words, as he can not immediately find the Latin
terminations in the lumber-room of his memory, but instead, enjoys
another goblet of the supposed gift. He is almost frightened when his
neighbor remarks, that Beust as well as Bismarck is a descendant of an
Alt Mark family; Büste, the family seat of the Beust family, is only
distant a few miles from Bismarck; certainly, the family had not lived
there for a long time. Colonel D—— begins to have a better opinion of the
Austrian Chancellor, and drinks up his beer in comfort.
Another is telling how Bismarck laughingly said, that “his colleague, the
Minister of Finance, would to-day convince himself that this dwelling
was much too small for the Minister-President, and would think of how he
could get him out of the difficulty.” Thus the little circle got happily
into the downward way of telling anecdotes, whence there is no return.
To a somewhat complaining deputation from the new provinces, Bismarck
good-humoredly explained that Prussia was like a woollen jacket, very
unpleasant at first, but when people got accustomed to it they found it
very comfortable, and at last came to think it a great benefit.
Bismarck allowed another deputation to whine for a long time about
universal military service and the weight of taxation; he then said, very
seriously and in a tone of the greatest astonishment, “Dear me, these
gentlemen probably thought they could become Prussians for nothing!”
A well-known politician promulgated a very paradoxical statement at
Bismarck’s dinner-table; some one present started forward to refute it.
“Pray don’t trouble yourself,” exclaimed Bismarck; “if you will only
have patience for two minutes, the learned Herr Professor will at once
contradict himself in the most brilliant manner!”
In the year 1848 there was a great deal rumored about a falling away of
the Rhine Provinces. “Where are they going to fall to?” asked Bismarck.
“And in France they no longer say, ‘_travailler pour le roi de Prusse_’
to indicate a lost labor of love, but ‘_travailler pour le maître de M.
de Bismarck_!’” whispered a fat diplomatist cautiously to his neighbor.
“How is it,” King William merrily once asked the Minister-President and
his cousin Herr von Bismarck-Briest, “that the Bismarcks of Schönhausen
are all such tall, strapping fellows, and those of Briest the contrary?”
Count Bismarck replied, “Because my ancestors all served the King as
soldiers in battle, while my cousins were engaged in civil affairs!” Herr
von Bismarck-Briest added, with presence of mind, “That is why I have put
my seven sons into the army.”
It was true that six Bismarck-Briests fought in the last war under the
King’s standard; a pity that the seventh was not there, but as a Landrath
he was “exempt.”
“But,” whispered a pale assessor, who has been guilty of innumerable
verses, “Bismarck is deficient in æsthetic culture; I have heard from the
best authority, that once at Frankfurt, when Goethe’s pearl, ‘Happy he
who closes up his door without hatred of the world!’ was performed on the
piano, Bismarck burst out with, ‘What a tailor’s soul this Goethe had!’”
The pale assessor looked as if such barbarism froze him; some laughed,
others shrugged their shoulders.
“The ideas of the moment were confused with opinions or meaning!” said a
Provincial Government Councillor, who knew how to combine his reverence
for Bismarck with his æsthetic aspirations; for in fact he only knew
Bismarck and Goethe.
“I remember you in my boyish days very well,” said Bismarck, in 1864,
to the Body-Physician of Prince Albrecht, the Privy-Councillor Dr. von
Arnim; “you then enormously struck me with your energy.”
“This is completely altered now,” replied Arnim, quietly; “you now strike
me enormously with yours.”
The negroes in America are very fond of assuming fine names of famous
men, such as Cæsar, Scipio, Hannibal, Aurelius, Washington, King James,
Abraham Lincoln, and so forth. One of these black gentlemen got very
drunk, and shouted like a madman; he was seized and put into prison,
but brought sober before the magistrate the next morning. “What is your
name?” The negro answered, with great dignity, “Count Bismarck.” There
was Homeric laughter. The magistrate said, “You are discharged; one must
overlook a little from any one bearing so great a name; but for the
future take care to do your illustrious god-cousin in Berlin more credit!”
There was no end to this. Anecdote succeeded anecdote, one joke the
other; each departing story-teller leaving another in his place, until
the circle round the altar of Gambrinus was broken up by the news that
their Majesties and the Court, after having partaken of supper in the
Countess’s salon, had taken their departure. This was the signal for
supper for the rest of the guests.
[Illustration]
A buffet supper is the saddest conclusion of a “rout”—it is almost
somewhat humiliating to stand with one’s hat under one’s arm and the
plate in one’s hand, after having had great difficulty to procure knife,
fork, and all the other utensils employed in civilized nations for the
business of eating! But humanity can even support this, and with a little
care and patience it is possible gradually to get a complete supper, from
a cup of soup to a fruit-ice. Modest minds content themselves certainly
by absorbing a gigantic portion of ham-pie with a spoon—or whatever the
fortune of war has favored their plates with—ask for nothing more—but
“go in” for the wine, which is foaming in any quantity.
In the mean time the dance music is beginning again, and with it the
actual period of enjoyment for dancers, and the terrible hour for
chaperonizing mothers and aunts, who sit out the last cotillon with a
heroism brave unto death.
The non-dancing guests now really begin to enjoy themselves—the crowd
being no longer so thick, there is more room, as the saloons reserved
for the Court are now open, and there are plenty of seats. Presently
a smoking-room suddenly opens—a smoking-room with noble cigars, iced
champagne, and hot coffee. Everywhere one sees the Minister-President
busy among his guests, conversing in the most agreeable tone, seeing
that there is nothing wanting, inviting every one to drink, and himself
rejoicing in the gayety he disperses. And whoever departs at about five
in the morning, with a hearty shake of the hand from Bismarck, will
certainly carry away with him the impression that the First Minister of
Prussia is also the most delightful host in Prussia.
CHAPTER VI.
BISMARCK’S HOUSE AT BERLIN.
’Tis but a hut or little more,
The threshold narrow, slim the door—
And yet within this space so wee,
Proudly uprears the laurel-tree.
Bismarck’s House in ordinary Costume.—Its History.—“Sultan
Uilem and Grand Vizier Bi-Smarck.”—“Bismarck, _grand homme_,
Bakschisch!”—The Cuckoo Clock.—Daily Habits.—Sunday at
Bismarck’s.
In that portion of the Wilhelms-Strasse at Berlin, which has remained
comparatively quiet, although it is bounded on one side by the animated
and famous street Unter den Linden, and on the other by the noisy and
busy Leipziger-Strasse, one of the arteries of Berlin circulation, not
far from the Wilhelms-Platz, stands a plain one-storied house, with
twelve windows in the front—the Ministry of Foreign Affairs—since 1862
the official residence of Count Bismarck.
It is the most modest ministerial residence in Berlin; in no large State
of Europe does the Foreign Minister live so quietly as Count Bismarck
does here. To the right of the Minister-President is the Hotel of
Prince Radziwill—_entre cour et jardin_—with its railings and stately
front court; to the left is the building of the Royal Privy Court
Printing-office of Messrs. Von Decker; opposite the former Palace of the
Order of St. John of Balley Brandenburg, so magnificently restored by
Schinckel, and now the property of Prince Carl of Prussia. One advantage
Bismarck’s dwelling enjoys, with all the aristocratic houses of the
Wilhelms-Strasse—it has a large garden with fine old trees in it, which
extends as far as the Königsgrätzer-Strasse.
The whole extent of the Wilhelms-Strasse, from the Linden to the
Leipziger-Strasse, formerly belonged to the Thurgarten—the freehold
being the King’s. On the enlargement of the city by Frederick William
I., this site was given to the generals and higher officials as free
building-ground, and was supported by the King with his well-known
energy by building materials and other subventions. The present site
of Wilhelms-Strasse and Königsgrätzer-Strasse, by the privilege of the
21st of September, 1736, was covered by a free house, respecting the
builder of which there is still some question. It was unquestionably the
work of one General von Pannewitz; probably Wolf Adolf von Pannewitz,
born the 13th March, 1679, at Great-Gaglov, in Lower Lausitz, who had
been Page and Equerry to King Frederick I., and had joined the regiment
of Gensdarmes in 1714, from the disbanded Garde du Corps. He became
lieutenant-colonel of this regiment in 1719, in 1725 commander, and in
1728, after the death of Field-Marshal General von Natzmer, its Chief.
Pannewitz had gained renown on the Rhine, in Italy, and Brabant, and had
so distinguished himself in the first Silesian war, that the great King
allowed him to retire from the service on account of bodily illness, very
honorably, with a pension of three thousand thalers. How the ownership
of this old hero, who had honestly served three Kings of Prussia, passed
to the well-known Countess Barbara Campanini, the married Presidentess
von Cocceji, we can not tell; but according to the register she sold the
house on the 10th April, 1756, to the Actual Privy State and Directing
War Minister and Grand Master of the Robes, Herr Count von Eickstedt.
After the death of this nobleman it became the property of his widow,
the Countess von Eickstedt-Peterswaldt, Caroline-Friedrike, born von
Grumbkow; then that of her daughter, the widowed Obermarshallin von
Wangenheim, Philippine Juliane, born Countess von Eickstedt-Peterswaldt.
This lady was, however, Bismarck’s grand-aunt, having been married
first to the Royal Captain Ernst Friedrich von Bismarck, at Schönhausen
(born 1729, died 1775), a grand-uncle of the Minister-President—so that
in the last century a Bismarck lived both at Schönhausen and in the
Wilhelms-Strasse. In the year 1804 the Hanoverian Councillor of Finance,
Johann Crelinger, bought the house, but soon sold it to the wife of the
Russian Imperial Minister and Ambassador at the Royal Prussian Court,
Herr Maximilian von Alopeus, Luise Charlotte Auguste Friedrike, born a
Von Veltheim. From her it passed into the possession, in 1815, of her
husband, Baron Alopeus, who sold it in 1819 to the Government.
The family of Alopeus, originally derived from a learned family of
Finland, have long played a great part in Berlin society. Baron
Maximilian was thrice Russian Ambassador for several years in 1790,
1802, and 1813 at Berlin, and was succeeded in the post by his younger
brother, who has been raised to the rank of Count—Daniel Alopeus, who
died here in 1831. Public attention has been very recently drawn to this
younger Alopeus by a book which has passed through dozens of editions in
France, and has been translated into almost all languages. The principal
personage of this specifically Roman Catholic book is Alexandrina,
Countess Albert de Laferronays, the only daughter of Daniel Alopeus and
the lovely Johanna von Wenckstern, who married for the second time the
Prince Paul Lapuchin, of Korsie in the Ukraine.
The Fiscal Board bought the house originally for the then Minister
of State, Count von Bernstorff, together with all its furniture and
fittings. Since that time all the Foreign Ministers of Prussia have
resided there, with the exception of Ancillon, who remained in a private
house, Unter den Linden.
It has been long known that the apartments are not sufficient for the
requirements of the service. The Ministerial bureaux, grown too unwieldy
for the ground-floor, had to be transferred to another building, scarcely
saving much trouble in the transaction of business. The apartments form
a very fitting dwelling-place for a nobleman in private life, but are by
no means suitable for the Prussian Prime Minister and Chancellor of the
North German Federation. Bismarck has naturally felt this inconvenience
more than any one else; but, as far as we know, he has taken no steps
towards any alteration, but usually contents himself with a good-humored
joke about it.
To the left, on the first floor, are two spacious saloons, having a view
of the court and garden. These are very convenient, and are decorated
with old family portraits, some of which we have mentioned in our
previous chapter on Schönhausen. It is not usual to decorate official
residences with ancestral portraits; but, as every thing of the kind
was wanting, Bismarck had his portraits brought from Schönhausen. In
the second saloon stands the Countess’s piano, and here there is an
excellent likeness of Bismarck’s sister, Frau von Arnim, as a child.
Next to this is the sitting-room of the Countess, with a good picture
of Bismarck in the Frankfurt period. From the first saloon one passes
to the right into a large reception-room, where the ministerial council
is also held. This is very simply decorated by a portrait of the King,
and a gigantic porcelain vase, presented by the King to Bismarck. To the
right of this saloon is Bismarck’s dining-room, with its old carpet, of
which so much has been said in Berlin, although we really can not say
why. Next to this is a ball-room, over the hall, where the very large
dinners also are served. To the left, next to the ministerial saloon,
is the comfortable but simple study of Bismarck. A double writing-table
with a low-backed chair on either side, is the principal object. In the
corner, by the stove, is a _chaise-longue_, with a lion’s skin over it.
This lion’s skin was brought to the Minister-President by the celebrated
traveller Rohlfs, from Africa. We are indebted to him also for the
following anecdote:—Rohlfs was on board an Egyptian ship, and was obliged
to tell the officers a great deal about “Sultan Uilem” and his Grand
Vizier “Bi-Smarck,” which seemed like a new edition of Haroun-ar-Reschid
and the Vizier Djaffar to the Orientals. The name Bismarck pleased them
wonderfully, as Bi-Smarck in Arabic signifies “Swift Fire,” “Rapid
Action.”
In the “Wochenblatt der Johanniter Ordens-Balley-Brandenburg,” another
traveller thus relates his ride from Cairo to the Pyramids—we there
read: “Every one who has been in the East or has read a book of travels
knows the events of the next hour. The visitor to the Pyramids is seized
like an irresponsible being by four brown shapes, each clad in a single
garment; two of them drag him up the irregular steps of the Pyramid of
Cheops, while the two others assist by shoving and pushing. It is of no
use to beg and pray—always forward, forward! The eye roves giddily on the
depths, and anxiously glances up the uneven steps, the worn and slippery
blocks of stone—upward, upward, until one falls exhausted on the little
platform, and without any power of assembling moral courage. The guides
then dance round with the customary cry of ‘Bakschisch! bakschisch!’
(Money! money!) Dark traditions concerning an Englishman who declined to
pay, and was precipitated into the depths, do not make the situation
any the pleasanter; and had I not understood the Arab people, having
left my companions far behind, I should have felt very uncomfortable.
But I alleged weariness, and would bind myself to nothing. But when all
appeals in German, Arabic, English, and Italian had failed (for these
fellows smatter all languages), the tallest fellow, who had guessed my
nationality, placed himself before me, and, holding up his forefinger,
pathetically exclaimed, “_Signor! Bismarck grand homme! Bakschisch!_” At
this appeal to my patriotic feelings, laughter got the upper hand, and I
divided my copper money among these gentlemen, just as the heads of my
companions became visible at the edge of the topmost stone ridge.”
In this study hang pictures of the Great Elector and the Great King, with
some other portraits of King William. Otherwise the room is quite without
decoration. A side door leads into the boudoir of the Countess, another
into Bismarck’s bedroom, and the dressing-room beyond.
Beside the door leading from the study to the bedroom, is a cuckoo clock,
which every quarter of an hour reminds those whom Bismarck receives here,
in an appealing and unmistakable manner, that they are not to forget they
are in the presence of a man whose precious time belongs to his King and
country. With some this warning is unnecessary, but in other cases it is
very useful, and should any one neglect its appeals, the possessor of
the cuckoo clock is quite the man to support them in the politest manner
in the world. Softly and cautiously various stories are whispered of the
important influence this cuckoo clock has exercised on the fates of many.
Such are the apartments inhabited by Prussia’s Premier; his children live
in a wing of the house.
[Illustration]
When at Berlin, Bismarck is accustomed to breakfast, entirely dressed in
a blue uniform overcoat, about ten o’clock. At this time he opens all the
letters which have come in, runs through the telegraphic dispatches and
the latest news of the morning papers, and then receives his councillors
in the study, rides for an hour, and then proceeds to the royal presence.
At his return from the palace, about five, the family dines; but it is
a rare circumstance not to find friends present. Bismarck has always an
excellent appetite, and prefers the red wine of Bordeaux, which he once
on the tribune of the Second Chamber called “the natural drink of the
North German,” to Rhenish wine. The greatest punctuality prevails at his
table. He especially delighted in exhorting his sons, while they were
young, to sit upright; and a person who for a long time had the honor of
being Bismarck’s table companion, asserts in full seriousness, that owing
to the continual directions Bismarck gave his sons on this point, which
he also profited by himself, he had, according to his own calculation,
himself grown two inches taller in the time. Conversation is sparkling,
open, and almost always illustrated by the humorous manner of the host
and the witty animation of the Countess. The language employed is always
German, very seldom a little French or English. Bismarck’s family table
has an especial charm at Christmas time, when a great tree stretches its
branches over the guests. After dinner the Minister-President stays for
a short time in his wife’s salon, where he drinks a cup of coffee and
smokes, during which time he runs through the _Kreuzzeitung_ and the
_Norddeutsche Allgemeine_. He then retires to his study and receives the
Ambassadors, or a Council of Ministers is held, and after that he works
by himself. About midnight he returns into the salon to his wife, and
is pleased if he finds any company there. This rarely fails, especially
when the Diet or Reichstag is assembled. It may be very well understood
that this arrangement is often altered, according to circumstances: the
Council of Ministers often sits in the morning, and then the Count can
scarcely find time, after his audience of the King, to get his accustomed
ride in the Thiergarten.
[Illustration]
In the warmer seasons of the year he often goes into the garden after
dinner, where the trees are; he was very commonly here every day with
Roon and Moltke, before the war of 1866. The trees could tell some
strange mysteries, but of course they are “sworn,” as is proper with
ministerial trees. Sometimes Bismarck mounts the ice-house; there he
gets a “view”—it certainly is not very extensive, but still green and
pleasant—over the large neighboring gardens. The Minister-President
attends divine service with his family in the Holy Trinity Church, in
which he was once confirmed. The Communion he receives at the hands of
the Consistorial Councillor Souchon, who has also confirmed his children.
If Bismarck, from personal illness, is unable to attend public worship,
he likes to have a private service read for him and his by some young
divine. But it is a rule to receive no one in the morning—for it is
Sunday in Bismarck’s house.
CHAPTER VII.
VARZIN.
Purchase of Varzin.—The Verandah.—The Park.—The name of
Bismarck famous.—House Inscriptions.—Popularity of Bismarck.—In
an Ambush of School-girls.—Conclusion.
[Illustration]
In the April of 1867 Count Bismarck went to see the Estates of Varzin
(consisting of Varzin, Wussow, Puddiger, Misdow, and Chomitz), near
Schlawe, in Farther Pomerania, and soon afterwards purchased them. In
the autumn of that year, as we have said, he spent some weeks at Varzin,
but in the following year he remained there, unfortunately in great
illness, from June to December. He soon made himself at home there, and
is fond of Varzin, as may be readily understood from its being close to
the birthplace of his wife—beloved Reinfeld. Nothing is wanting there to
his enjoyment—there are trees, and plenty of good riding and hunting.
He converses with every one who meets him, in forest and field, in a
friendly manner, and is fond of talking “platt” with the country people.
Recently he said to an old laborer known to him, who had been ill: “_Nu
seid Ihr wohl wieder ganz auf dem Tüge?_” (You’re all right on the main
again?) “_I ja_,” replied the old man, “_Sie sollten man ok hie blieven,
denn würden Sie noch mal so frisch!_”. (Ay! oh, you’d a vast deal better
ztop ’ere; yow’d be eer zo mooch vresher!) Bismarck laughed. “Yes—if one
could be as you are, and always stop in Varzin, I believe you!”
[Illustration: THE PARK AT VARZIN.]
If one turn south on the Cöslin-Danzig road, by the large village of
Carwitz—recently marked as a station on the railway from Cöslin to
Danzig—after a short drive on a good road, some three German miles, one
reaches the Bismarck estates with great ease. It is a very pleasant
neighborhood, alternating with wooded hillocks, meadows and waters, wood
and plough-land. There is nothing very magnificent about it, nothing very
pretentious; but it is a pleasant spot, and the Countess Bismarck once
merrily called it, very appropriately, “a pretty little humpy countrykin.”
Varzin can not be seen from the distance; it is hidden by woods.
The descending road divides the mansion, to the right, from the
farm-buildings on the left, forming a long parallelogram.
Varzin does not look nearly so aristocratic as Schönhausen, which
Bismarck calls his “old stone-heap.” A building of one story, with two
wings, all painted pale yellow, surrounds a somewhat roomy courtyard,
open to the road. On the principal building, on the gable, are the arms
of Blumenthal. The steps of the stairway are occupied by orange-trees,
myrtles, and laurels. We saw a young donkey running about, who was eating
the fallen laurel-leaves with a very good appetite. The possessor of
Varzin must feel very much flattered that laurels abound so much in his
house that there are enough to feed donkeys!
[Illustration]
On this open staircase, or rather verandah, Bismarck receives his guests,
like a simple country nobleman, in a green coat, white waistcoat, and
yellow neckcloth, and with a hearty shake of the hand makes them free of
the hospitality of his house. On this verandah the Countess stands with
her daughter, and looks with beaming eyes and happy face after the three
sportsmen who are proceeding towards the forest and wave their hands
in greeting back to her. And for others—for every one—it is a pleasant
sight to see Count Bismarck walking between his sons, his rifle over
his shoulder, or riding on horseback. On this verandah also the last
farewell takes place between mother and sons. After the longest possible
holiday, they return to school at Berlin, while Bismarck himself orders
the postillion to make haste, that he may not lose the mid-day train at
Cöslin. The honest Pomeranian, with the well-fed face above his orange
collar, has no idea that there exists an intimate bond between himself
and the great Minister—that in his capacity, as Chancellor of the North
German Confederation, he is his highest representative.
The interior of the mansion of Varzin is habitable and comfortable, but
there is nothing otherwise remarkable about it. To the right of the
hall on which you enter, is the dining-room, which is connected with
the kitchen and servants’ rooms in the left wing; to the left is the
Count’s room, the large centre-table of which is covered with maps. Maps,
especially those of a minute kind, are an old hobby of Bismarck’s; if
a trip is projected, or guests are departing, the road is accurately
measured off beforehand on the map. This zealous study of maps has always
seemed to us very characteristic of Bismarck’s whole nature; he always
desires to know the road he is travelling in the most accurate manner;
he considers the advantages, and weighs them against the annoyance. The
windows of this apartment look out on the courtyard. To the right again
is the Countess’s room, the windows opening on the park, and thence there
is a really magnificent view: in the bright summer moonlight nights, one
would think that one had, by enchantment, some fragment of early French
court life, from Meudon or Rambouillet. On the other side of a prattling
little brook, crossed by a pretty little bridge, the park, with its fine
old trees—oaks and beeches—rises in terraces up the hill-side, and the
white statues contrast well with the green foliage. At such a sight, one
thinks of the “Enchanted Night” of Tieck; and indeed there is somewhat of
the “wondrous world of faërie” in the whole aspect of the scene—in its
antique but eternally youthful splendor.
Our readers know, from the letters we have given, how passionately
Bismarck loves such scenery. There is a great deal more of the romantic
poet and sentimental German in the great statesman, than would appear at
first sight. He sometimes recognizes this himself with a smile.
The park of Varzin by moonlight has indeed a peculiar old-fashioned
appearance; very little imagination is necessary to people it with
gentlemen in court uniforms and swords, hats under their arms, and ladies
with towering head-dresses, hoops, and high shoes. On these terraces,
over the pretty flower-banks, and round the white statues, there breathes
the whole inspiration of a life which, for a long time, was unjustly
contemned, and afterwards was properly derided, when fashion became its
distinguishing trait, after the _petit maître_ style—a life we can not
wish back again, but which we can not but love, it having been that of
our grandfathers and great-grandfathers, and containing in it, with many
traits of insignificance, some great and admirable features. We may laugh
at it, but it contains some pretty ideas!
To return to our description. Next to the Countess’s drawing-room are the
bedrooms, and to the right of these again is a hall, where an enormous
black-oak staircase, reminding one of the other staircase at Schönhausen,
leads to the upper story. In this hall, and in the antechamber, one sees
the horns of two immense moufflons, two tremendous stag-antlers, and
some others of different ages. These all belong to Bismarck’s hunting
expedition in the park at Schönbrunn, when he hunted there after the
Danish war, with his royal master, as the guest of the Emperor of
Austria. The Emperor Francis Joseph at that time very graciously sent
these trophies to Bismarck at Berlin.
On the other side of this hall, by way of a small room, one passes
behind the dining-room into a large garden saloon and conservatory,
with a pretty pavilion. In one of the guest-chambers of the right wing,
on the ground-floor, there is a picture ghastly to look upon, of the
master of the house, in life-size, which, as Friedrich Gerstäcker, the
unwearied traveller, informs us, is sold in great numbers in Venezuela.
A worthy transatlantic Correggio, the name not yet known to fame, has
depicted the Count in a sky-blue miller’s coat and bright green trowsers,
red neckerchief, and rosy red gloves, such as the dandies of Caraccas
probably wear, after a photograph. There is not a trace of likeness in
the face, and yet there is something so characteristic in the attitude,
that one immediately knows who one has before one—something so like that
the very dogs bark at it. Bismarck, it is well known, is an especial
favorite among the Germans in America. Several new cities have been named
after him; there is a Bismarck on the Conchos in Texas, and a Bismarck
in Missouri; the locality of a third we do not recollect. A considerable
trans-oceanic trade is carried on in terribly bad photographs of the
Minister-President, and a German cutler has made himself a little
fortune by his Bismarck knives; these knives are distinguished by a very
sharp and strong blade. Nor has the old world remained behind the new
in its admiration. German vessels bear Bismarck’s name and likeness,
under the black and white and red flag, to the farthest shores. Acute
champagne-makers compete with Veuve Clicquot and the Duc de Montebello
under the designation of Bismarck-Schönhausen, and from Cannes, in
Southern France, to Rügenwaldermünde, in Farther Pomerania, speculative
hotel-keepers announce that “Rooms have just been engaged here for
Count Bismarck.” After the English style, the name of Bismarck has been
bestowed as a baptismal name; we ourselves know a little Fräulein von X.,
named Wilhelmine Bismarck Sadowa, born the 3d of July, 1866. In Spain the
lucifer-match boxes significantly bear the portraits of Bismarck and his
royal master.
We have been especially pleased at finding Bismarck’s name in the true
German household phrases. Thus, a dear and lately deceased friend, the
Privy Councillor Dr. von Arnim, wrote over his door:—
Lang lebe und blühe König Wilhelm, mein Held;
Mit ihm soll behalten Graf Bismarck das Feld!
Long live and flourish King William, my hero; with him shall
Count Bismarck keep the field.
Several house proprietors in Berlin have adopted this sentence; but still
more apposite is the following inscription on the house of a master
weaver:—
Als Wilhelm wirkt und Bismarck spann,
Gott hatte seine Freude dran. 1866.
As William worked and Bismarck spon,
God had his joy thereon. 1866.
Gardeners have started a Bismarck rose, and a giant Bismarck strawberry,
and the fashionable world attires itself in Bismarck brown. At our
request, the management of the Bazar, the most competent house for such
things, has kindly shown us fourteen shades of this color in silk,
and informed us at the same time that there are many more of such
Bismarck shades; that Bismarck _foncé_ is not nearly so dark as Bismarck
_courroucé_. This color originally was called _hanneton_ (May beetle),
and soon drove the _Vert Metternich_ from the field; while in Austria
a small cake (_semmel_), strewn with a little poppy-seed, shaped like
a pigtail, holds its sway with the Radetzky Köpfel. On the Paraná
and Paraguay the steamer Count Bismarck runs up and down the river.
At Alexandria the passage Bismarck is full of brown and black forms.
At Blumberg, in the South Australian colony of Adelaide, the Germans
assemble in the Bismarck Hall, and to keep up their national enthusiasm
over a drink, they smoke cigars “Conde de Bismarck.” These are considered
highly elegant, but cost one hundred and thirty dollars a pound, although
there is a cheaper medium Bismarck cigar.
In the Grand Duchy of Posen, by a Cabinet Order of the King, the
four places Karsy, Bobry, Budy, and Zwierzchoslaw, in the circle of
Pleschen, have been, at the desire of the inhabitants, incorporated as
Bismarcksdorf.
In Berlin the Bismarck-Strasse unites the Roon-Strasse with the
Moltke-Strasse; while in 1865 the malice of the Berlin wits wanted to
change the name of the Wasserthor-Strasse, when the terrible fall of the
houses took place there, into Bismarck-Strasse.
In South Germany the belief that Bismarck does every thing and can do
every thing, down to the Spanish Revolution, and perhaps even directs
the weather, is continually spreading. Oddly enough, the Ultramontane
enemies of Bismarck especially take care to spread the name of the
Minister-President. They certainly paint black over black, but they make
the nation familiar with his fame, and though they may ever depict him as
a sort of devil, truth will break through at last.
Is Bismarck really popular? This may be a curious question to ask, but
it may still be legitimately put, for in the ordinary sense of the word
Bismarck is not popular, despite his worldwide fame. For instance, he is
not popular as in our days Cavour and Garibaldi have been. He has not the
popularity of the ruling party opinion and that of the day, but, in place
of it, his is the historical popularity which will preserve his memory
to a grateful posterity. A correspondent of the liberal Paris paper,
_Le Temps_, very excellently expresses our meaning in the following
remarks:—“The Chancellor of the North German Confederation is not what
we can call a popular man; the Prussians, or at least the Berlinese,
entertain for him a similar feeling to that entertained by the other
Germans for Prussia. They do not love him; they love to exercise their
wit upon him, and you know how biting and salted the Berlin wit is; but
they acknowledge him and wonder at him, showing him tolerance. They look
upon him as the greatest statesman of the present day; are proud of him,
although he often presses hard upon them. M. de Bismarck has for the
Prussians an incomparable magic, particularly since he opposed the policy
of Napoleon. Since 1866, a change has taken place which has surprised me,
although there is nothing very surprising in it. Before 1866, the Premier
in every thing he did had the world pretty much against him—to-day every
impulse is expected from him, and if he gives it, almost every one is at
his back.”
The question of popularity, as far as the great world is concerned,
may well be left here; but in Varzin and the neighboring districts it
has long since been determined. Only ask his farmers and laborers! And
with the daring blacksmith—(or was it a miller?)—who secretly poaches
on Bismarck’s preserves, the Minister-President is, perhaps, the most
popular of any.
It is a real pleasure to see Bismarck at Varzin among his trees; not
during those restless nocturnal wanderings in the park, to which his
sleepless illness only too frequently impels him, but when he is
pleasantly pointing out his favorites to his guests. It was an event when
the North German Chancellor, the summer before last, discovered three
magnificent beeches in the midst of a thicket.
On a declivity with a beautiful view, there is a rich deer preserve.
Bismarck might even erect a falconry, and hunt with hawks—there are
plenty in the Netherlands still. But this Imperial and Royal amusement is
for him too—reactionary.
One day Bismarck thought, as he was riding to the Crangener frontier,
whither he had sent his gamekeeper, that he caught a glimpse of a
peculiar blue animal which fled before him. But when he came up with
it, it proved to be a blue parasol, and he himself had fallen into an
ambuscade, for he found himself suddenly surrounded by a crowd of young
ladies, who received him with songs. The pastor in Crangen kept a young
ladies’ school, who, having heard that Bismarck was coming, thus paid
their respects to him in so unexpected a way, and left him, delighted
with his amiability. Crangen, an ancient hunting castle of the Dukes of
Pomerania, standing picturesquely, with its four stately towers and high
gables, between three lakes and high mountains, is, without doubt, the
most beautiful spot in this neighborhood. It belongs to the Royal Major
Retired Rank Freiherr Hugo von Loën, who is Bismarck’s nearest neighbor
in that direction.
The long residence of Bismarck at Varzin during the summer before last
has directed the eyes of all Europe on this modest seat in Farther
Pomerania. Varzin was an old fief of the family of Von Zitzewitz, who
possessed many estates in this neighborhood. It is said that it came
_per fas et nefas_ into the possession of the very powerful Privy
Minister of State and War and Principal President of Pomerania, Caspar
Otto von Massow, who then sold it to Major General Adam Joachim, Count
of Podewils. Count Podewils and his brothers received a renewal of the
fief, and it was a heritage in their family, until in this century it
passed through an heiress to a Von Blumenthal, Werner Constantine von
Blumenthal, who was raised to a Countship in 1840. Bismarck purchased
the Varzin estates from the younger sons of this Blumenthal. They form,
with Varzin, Wussow—where the church is situated, Puddiger, Misdow,
Chomitz, and Charlottenthal, a considerable property. The soil is not
equal throughout; the forests are very fine and stately; the wood in good
condition. The game is very plentiful—few stags, but plenty of roes,
hares, and smaller game. The Wipper, which falls into the Baltic at
Rügenwaldermünde, five German miles from Varzin, serpentines through the
forests of the Bismarck property, and in part forms the boundary of the
estate, and is very useful for the transportation of the timber.
Formerly there were considerable glass factories in Misdow and Chomitz,
but they are no longer worked, nor is any spirit distilled there; but a
wood factory it is said is in use—certainly a profitable business in this
neighborhood, so full of wood.
FOOTNOTES
[1] _Edinburgh Review_, vol. cxxx., pp. 457, 458.
[2] _Alvensleben._ This family was of noble origin in the Alt Mark, and
has been partly elevated to the rank of Count. Its annals extend to 1163.
The original seat of the family was Alvensleben on the Bever; the lines
consisted of three—red, black, and white. Of these the red line died out
in 1534 and 1553, at Erxleben and Kalvörden. The white line, divided into
three, through Joachim Valentine, at Isernschnippe, Eimersleben, and
Erxleben—the first expired in 1680, the second in 1734—the third, founded
by Gebhard Christoph, still flourishes. The black line was always the
most extensive. It divided into two branches, that of Ludolf and that
of Joachim. Only a portion of this family exists at the present day. Of
the branch of Ludolf, there existed Philip Karl (born 1745, 16th Dec.),
who became a Prussian diplomatist and was a favorite of Friedrich II.
and Minister of Foreign Affairs. He died a Count, 21st Oct., 1802, at
Berlin, unmarried. Johann Aug. Ernst was born at Erxleben, 6th Aug.,
1758; he was Minister for Brandenburg and Privy Councillor of Prussia;
died 27th Sept., 1827, a Prussian Count. The black line died out with his
son, the Prussian Minister Albrecht v. A. The white, or Gardelegen line,
was elevated to the rank of Count in the persons of Fried. Wilh. Aug.
(born 31st May, 1798; died 2d Dec., 1853), and Ferd. Friedr. Ludolf (born
23d Jan., 1803), at the ascension of Fried. Wilh. IV., 15th Oct., 1840.
Albrecht, the representative of the black line, was distinguished for his
devotion to his king, much as Bismarck has been. He died 2d May, 1858;
his large property went to his sister and her children.—K. R. H. M.
[3] This rank in Germany, and especially in North Germany, is held
to be noble. We have no corresponding title in English; it is higher
than esquire, but not exactly that of a knight or baronet. Perhaps it
corresponds to “honorable.”—K. R. H. M.
[4] In the original, _Schlossgesessen_, literally “seized of or seated at
a castle.”—K. R. H. M.
[5] _Knesebeck._ Of this family one was celebrated as Prussian
Field-Marshal (born 5th May, 1768, at Carwe, near New Ruppin, of an
ancient Brandenburg family). He fought with distinction in 1792-’94, and
was placed on the staff by the Duke of Brunswick. He fulfilled a singular
diplomatic mission to Petersburg in 1811-’12, which had for its real
motives an incitement to the Russian emperor to withstand Napoleon to the
utmost, and to decoy him into the interior of Russia. The world knows the
rest. He was an enthusiast in poetry, as well as war. Many poems of his
have been privately printed—the chief of these is one in praise of war
(_Lob des Kriegs_). Think of a Tyrtæus in a Prussian general’s uniform!
He died 12th Jan., 1848.—K. R. H. M.
[6] The Archbishopric of Magdeburg took its rise from a Benedictine
convent in honor of St. Maurice, founded by Emperor Otto I. in 937; and
in 967 it was made an archbishopric, and the primacy of Germany was given
by Pope John XIII., with Havelberg, among others, as a dependency.—K. R.
H. M.
[7] _Holzendorff._ This family still exists, and has numbered among its
prominent members, gallant soldiers and eminent jurists. Karl Friedr. von
H. was a distinguished general of artillery, born the 17th Aug., 1764,
and the son of a famous artillery general, under Friedrich II. (died 10th
Dec., 1785). After a brilliant career, during which he commanded the
artillery of the army of Blücher (1815), when he was wounded at Ligny,
he died at Berlin, 29th Sept., 1828. There is still living a member
of this family, Franz von Holzendorff—an eminent writer on criminal
jurisprudence—born at Vietmannsdorf in the Uckermarck, 14th Oct., 1829.
He is editor of a newspaper connected with the subject he has treated of
in so many works.—K. R. H. M.
[8] _Quitzow._ A very ancient and important family, still existing at
the village of the same name, near Peoleberg, in the Priegnitz. During
the Bavarian and Luxemburg regency, this family attained formidable
proportions. Hans von Quitzow was nominated administrator by Jobst von
Mähren in 1400, but shortly dismissed, for undue severity and ambition.
Friedrich I. of Hohenzollern, first governor under Emperor Sigismund, and
then elector as feoffee of the Marks, had as his opponents the brothers
Hans and Dietrich von Quitzow, sons of Sir Kuno—born at Quitzhöfel, near
Havelberg. They were repressed, but still the authority of the governor
could not be established until after their death in 1414. One Dietrich
von Quitzow was a field-marshal in the Brandenburg service, in 1606.—K.
R. H. M.
[9] Briest was also included in the permutation.—K. R. H. M.
[10] _Asseburg._ This family is noble and well-endowed in Prussia Proper
and Anhalt. The name is derived from Asseburg in Brunswick, a noble
structure of considerable antiquity. It was finally sacked in 1492, and
destroyed altogether in the Brunswick troubles. The present family hold
the lesser countyship of Falkenstein in the Mansfeld district and the
knight’s fee of Eggenstadt.—K. R. H. M.
[11] _Katte._ This remarkable family needs scarcely any thing at my
hands. It is ancient and aristocratic, and has continued to exist
despite all kinds of mutations till now. There was in the line of Wust,
John Henry von Katte, whose unfortunate son was beheaded for undue zeal
towards Frederick the Great: of him some account is presented—the date
of his murder being 6th November, 1730. Other members of the family have
distinguished themselves to recent days.—K. R. H. M.
[12] _Möllendorff._ One of the Möllendorffs was a Prussian field-marshal,
Richard Joachim Henry von M. (born 1725; died 1816). He was with “_der
olle Fritz_” and was even respected by his enemies. Napoleon gave him the
Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor.—K. R. H. M.
[13] _Bardeleben._ This family exists in the best condition, and has done
good service to the Prussian state. The most distinguished member of this
family is Kurt von Bardeleben, jurist and judge at Minden.—K. R. H. M.
[14] Gneomar Dubislaw von Natzmer was a field-marshal in the time of King
Frederick William I., and frustrated the flight of the Crown Prince,
afterwards Frederick II. Among his proximate descendants, through the
mother, was a distinguished Prussian general, Oltwig Ant. Leop. v.
Natzmer, born 18th April, 1782, at Villin, in Pomerania. He took part
in the many illustrious struggles of the growing kingdom of Prussia—was
present at the battle of Auerstädt, 1806; taken prisoner at Prenzlau and
exchanged in 1807. He received promotion to the staff after the peace of
Tilsit, accompanied the King to the conference of princes at Dresden,
and was sent on a secret mission to Russia. He was also in action at the
battles of Gross-görschen (1813), Hainau (1813), Bautzen, and others
down to Leipzig. He was also in the campaign of 1815, in high command.
After a life of devotion to his sovereign, he died 1st Nov., 1861. It may
be as well to state here that my object in these notes is to show how
entirely devoted the military officials of Prussia are to the house of
Hohenzollern, and that these side-illustrations throw a light upon the
central figure of this book, Count Bismarck himself, and the motives of
his steady, although apparently inconsistent, patriotism.—K. R. H. M.
[15] Biron (Ernst Johann von), Duke of Courland, was born in 1687, the
son of a landed proprietor named Bühren. He was the favorite of the
Duchess of Courland, Anna Iwanowna, niece of Peter the Great, from his
elegant manners and attainments. She ascended the Russian throne in
1730, and though it had been expressly stipulated that Biron should not
be allowed to come to Russia, he soon made his appearance at the court.
Assuming the arms of the French Dukes of Biron, he governed Russia,
through Anna. His life was stormy until near its close, when he returned
to his Duchy of Courland, which he governed wisely. In 1769 he abdicated
in favor of his son Peter, and died 28th December, 1772. This son Peter
governed till 28th March, 1795, then resigning Courland to the Czarina
Catherine, but retaining all his sovereign rights. He then passed
his time alternately at Berlin and his estates of Sagan and Nachod,
dying 12th Jan., 1800, at Gellenau in Silesia. One of the collateral
descendants of Biron, Prince Gustav Calixt von Biron, born 29th Jan.,
1780, died in the Prussian service, a Lieut. General and Governor of the
fortress of Glatz, 20th June, 1821. He had three sons. The second, Calixt
Gustav, born 3d Jan., 1817, is alive, having married, 1845, the Princess
Helene Meschtscherskii, by whom he has issue Gustav Peter Jon, born 17th
Oct., 1859.—K. R. H. M.
[16] Nassau-Usingen, Princess Augusta Amalia, was married 2d Aug., 1804,
to Louis William, Landgrave of Hesse-Hombourg (died 19th Jan., 1839);
separated 1805. She was the daughter of Duke Frederick Augustus (died
24th March, 1816, the last of his house) and of Louise, born Princess of
Waldeck (died 17th Nov., 1816). The Almanach de Gotha does not recognize
the subsequent marriage with Count Bismarck.
[17] The battle of Chotusitz was fought the 17th May, 1742, by Frederick
II., when he obtained a victory over the Austrians under Prince Karl
of Lorraine. The place has some 1200 inhabitants, and is situated near
Czaslau in Bohemia. This decided the cession of almost the whole of
Silesia.—K. R. H. M.
[18] This rhapsody will convey a good idea of what was thought fine
writing in those days, but it is fulsome to the last degree.—K. R. H. M.
[19] From Platt, or low German.—K. R. H. M.
[20] The reader must excuse the free and somewhat irregular rendering of
this legend—_penes me_.—K. R. H. M.
[21] Goethe’s “Fiction and Truth” (_Dichtung und Wahrheit_).—K. R. H. M.
[22] For the most eloquent account of this sad affair, the reader is
requested to refer to Mr. Carlyle’s “Frederick the Great,” Book vii.
chap. ix.—K. R. H. M.
[23] _Katte._ This illustrious family has been historically famous
for its liege adherence to the Prussian-Brandenburg house. John Henry
von Katte (born 16th Oct., 1681; died 31st May, 1741), of Wust, was a
Field-Marshal General and Count. His son was the unfortunate friend of
Frederick the Crown Prince, beheaded at Küstrin, 6th Nov., 1740. Several
others of this family have distinguished themselves, despite the cruelty
of the kings, in the Prussian service.—K. R. H. M.
[24] About £13,300 sterling.
[25] Herzberg, Ewald Fred. (Count von), a distinguished Prussian
diplomatist, born at Lotten, near New Stettin, in 1725. He published many
most valuable diplomatic, historical, and juridical works, and died on
the 27th May, 1795, after having been somewhat harshly treated by those
in power.—K. R. H. M.
[26] Bischofswerder (John Rud. von), General and Minister of Frederick
William II., born at Dresden, 1737, of an old Saxon family. He entered
the Prussian service, 1760, and was a Major in 1779. The confidence
the King, first as Crown Prince, had in him, was unlimited; and he was
employed in important diplomatic matters at Szistowe and at Pilnitz. He
was ambassador to Paris in 1793. He died in October, 1803.—K. R. H. M.
[27] Now (1869) American Ambassador to St. James’s.
[28] It is again necessary to explain that the translation is as close as
the translator can make, without violating sense and metre. The reader
will find the original of this, and other interjected poems in the
Appendices.—K. R. H. M.
[29] In English miles about eighteen and thirty.—K. R. H. M.
[30] This requires explanation, the pun not being susceptible of
translation. The derivation of Kniephof is uncertain; _Knie_ is, however,
_Knee_, and it might have come from its being granted for knee-service.
_Kneipe_ is a _pot-house_: _Hof_, a court.—K. R. H. M.
[31] The passage is written by Bismarck in English. I have put inverted
commas.—K. R. H. M.
[32] It is obvious that this pride arose from the smallness of the river,
not the loss of the man and horse.—K. R. H. M.
[33] So in Bismarck’s letter.—K. R. H. M.
[34] Lucchesini, Girolamo, Marchese, was born at Lucca in 1752 of a
patrician family, and presented by the Abbé Fontana to King Frederick
II., by whom he was appointed librarian and reader with the title of
Chamberlain. He was sent to Rome in 1787 to obtain certain ratifications
from the Pope, and thence to Warsaw, where he succeeded in 1790 in
bringing Poland and Prussia into a treaty of amity. He attended the
congress of Reichenbach as Minister Plenipotentiary in 1791. In 1792 he
went to Warsaw and destroyed the very treaty he had himself negotiated
between Prussia and Poland. Hence the above strictures on him. He was
Ambassador to Vienna in 1793, but was generally with the King. In
September, 1802, he was sent to Paris as Ambassador Extraordinary,
and followed Napoleon to Milan. He was present at the battle of Jena,
and signed the truce at Charlottenburg with Napoleon. This not being
sanctioned by the King, he resigned. He then became Chamberlain to
Napoleon’s sister, the Duchess of Lucca, and died the 19th October,
1825, at Florence. He was the author of some political works on the
Rhenish Confederation and the like. He seems to have been a shifty and
unprincipled politician. His younger brother, Cesare Lucchesini, was a
distinguished author and antiquary.—K. R. H. M.
[35] This Constitution is given in the Appendix, being an important state
document.—K. R. H. M.
[36] An account of this family has been given at p. 47 in a note.
Those who wish to pursue further details may consult Klöden’s history,
published in 1828.—K. R. H. M.
[37] A short anecdote of the venerable Alexander von Humboldt, as
illustrative of the popular spirit, deserves preservation here. During
the eventful days of March, when barricades were the order of the day, a
mob came rushing into the Oranienburger-Strasse, where Humboldt resided.
Materials for a barricade were required, and every door was besieged
for the purpose. One of these opened, and a venerable-looking man
presented himself and begged the excited mass not to disturb him. Such
a request was not to be borne by the sovereign people, and he was asked
menacingly who he was, that he should use such language. “I am Alexander
von Humboldt,” was the quiet reply. In a moment every hat was off, and
with reverent greetings the multitude swept forward and left the scholar
and philosopher at peace. It is only right to record such a fact, as
it may serve to show that the fierce revolutionists at least knew how
to restrain themselves, even in the midst of their enthusiastic fury.
I give the anecdote on the authority of the admirable German newspaper
_Hermann_, of the 11th September, 1869.—K. R. H. M.
[38] “Preussen’s Deutsche Politik”—“Prussia’s German Policy,” 3d edition
(Leipzig, 1867, p. 236).
[39] About £2 sterling per annum.—K. R. H. M.
[40] £5 2_s._ to £7 10_s._—K. R. H. M.
[41] We should think not. 6 sgr. per day at 213 days = 46.18. = £7 within
a fraction.—K. R. H. M.
[42] One of the Putkammer estates in Pomerania.—K. R. H. M.
[43] 74° Fahr.—K. R. H. M.
[44] _See_ Wangemann’s “Ringen und Regen,” (“Strife and Activity”), on
the Ostsee Shore.
[45] Why not? I really must here join issue with a writer who assumes too
much, and hides his own very small personality, possessing no personal
courtesy, behind weighty cloudiness and the permission to copy Bismarck’s
correspondence.—K. R. H. M.
[46] The Austro-Prussian Campaign in Denmark receives so little notice
on the part of Bismarck’s biographer, that I shrewdly suspect he does
not approve of it as a just act on the part of the hero of this book.
Opinions are much divided on the merits of this annexation; in any case,
the limit of aggression seems to be too great, as the German party has
not dared to appeal for justification to any _plébiscite_. In the end,
when animosities are healed, it must be confessed that substantial
benefit may accrue to the new subjects of Prussia. It is worth while in
this place to preserve a political squib, extensively posted in the towns
of the Duchies during the war; probably rather an instigation of the
Austrians, whom it indirectly compliments, than a spontaneous outburst of
Danish satire. All the walls were covered with it one fine morning, thus:
“Es giebt nur eine Kaiserstadt,
Und die heisst Wien;
Es giebt nur ein Räubernest,
Und das ist Berlin!”
“There is but one Emperor’s town, that is called Wien;
There is but one robbers’ nest, and that is Berlin!”
But perhaps annexation was better than such a kinglet as the Prince of
Augustenburg.—K. R. H. M.
[47] “Preussen’s Deutsche Politik”—“Prussia’s German Policy,” p. 273.
[48] 35° Fahr.—K. R. H. M.
[49] A copy of the ninety-first Psalm.
[50] 55° Fahr.
[51] See the Appendix for this stirring national song, and a version I
have attempted.—K. R. H. M.
[52] 1 Maccabees iii., 58, 59.—K. R. H. M.
[53] At the important battle of Königsgrätz, according to a recent number
of the _Preussische Jahrbücher_, the Prussians lost in dead, wounded, and
missing, 359 officers, and 8,794 men; the Austrians 1,147 officers and
30,224 men. The proportions seem thus to have been: for the Prussians,
1/23; for the Austrians 1/7; average loss on both sides 1/11. In the
battle of Malplaquet (1709) proportion of losses, 1/5; at Rossbach (1757)
1/25; at Leuthen (1758) 1/11; at Zorndorf (1758) 3/8; at Austerlitz
(1805) 1/4; at Eylau (1807) 1/4; at Wagram (1809) 1/8; at Borodino (1812)
1/3; at Leipzig (1813) 1/5; at Belle Alliance (1815) 1/3; at Solferino
(1859) 1/8. The three greatest battles were those of Leipzig (460,000
men); Königsgrätz (430,000 men); and Wagram (320,000 men). At Leipzig
were lost 90,000 men, at Borodino 74,000, and at Belle Alliance 61,000
men.—K. R. H. M.
[54] Bismarck’s nephew.
[55] L. Bamberger. Monsieur de Bismarck, Paris, 1868. Graf von Bismarck,
Breslau. Count Bismarck, London, 1869, p. 39, sq.
[56] Count Bismarck, p. 41.
[57] Count Bismarck, p. 117. It should be named here that though I have
quoted the authorized English translation, I do not agree with its
exactitude.—K. R. H. M.
[58] But not so in the English edition as quoted.—K. R. H. M.
[59] _See_ Büchmann, Geflügelte Wörter (Winged Words), 4th edition, p.
224.
[60] Say £225,000.—K. R. H. M.
APPENDIX A.
It has been thought desirable to give the originals of the two poems
translated respectively at pages 70-72, and pages 124, 125, by the
present Editor, for the benefit of those who may like to see them.
Das Blatt, das grün und kräftig
Des Wandrers Blick entzückt,
In purem Golde prächtig
Den Schild der Bismarck schmückt;
Das Kleeblatt gülden leuchtend,
Das ist im blauen Feld
Von Nesselblättern dräuend
Gar scharf und blank umstellt.
Es was vor alten Zeiten
Ein Fräulein wonnesam,
Durch die der Nessel Zeichen
Ins Schild der Bismarck kam.
Um Fräulein Gertrud warben
Viel Edle, kampferprobt,
Die auf Geheiss des Vaters
Dem Vetter schon verlobt.
Da kam ein Fürst der Wenden
Herab vom nord’schen Meer,
Er kam mit hundert Pferden—
Jung Gertrud sein Begehr;
Jung Gertrud lehnte höflich
Die hohe Ehre ab,
Der Fürst, erzürnet höchlich,
Erhub den güld’nen Stab;
Er winkte seinen Knechten
Und rief, von Zorn entbrannt:
“Ich will das Kleeblatt brechen
Mit meiner eignen Hand!
Ja, wär’s noch eine Nessel,
Gäb’s doch ein kleines Weh,
Doch lustig ist’s zu brechen,
Grün oder gold den Klee!”—
Und noch am selb’gen Tage,
Da stürmt mit reis’gem Tross
Der Fürst vom Wendenstamme
Jung Gertruds festes Schloss.
Der Burgvogt, überfallen,
Fiel fechtend in dem Tross,
Und über Wall und Graben
Der Wende drang ins Schloss.
Des leichten Siegs frohlockend
Der Fürst schaut freudig drein,
Und trat mit stolzem Worte
In Gertruds Kämmerlein:
“Ich komme, Dich zu brechen,
Du güldner Herzensklee,
Du brennst ja nicht wie Nesseln,
Das Kleeblatt thut nicht weh!”
Drauf that er sie umarmen,
Wie brünst’ge Liebe thut,
Doch plötzlich schrie er: “Gnade!”
Und sank ins heisse Blut.
Jung Gertrud, wunderprächtig,
Schwang über ihm den Stahl,
Den Dolch stiess sie ihm kräftig
Ins Herz zum andern Mal,
Und rief: “Das sind die Nesseln,
Die Nesseln brennen, weh!
Wer hat noch Lust zu brechen
Der Bismarck güldnen Klee!”
Und seit jung Gertruds Zeiten
Dräut in der Bismarck Schild
Der Nesseln blankes Zeichen,
Rings um des Kleeblatts Bild;
Mit scharfem Stahl sie haben
Ihr Kleinod stets bewahrt;
Ja, seit jung Gertruds Tagen
Blieb das der Bismarck Art!
From Dr. G. Schwetschke’s “Bismarckias.” _See_ pages 123, 124.
Abgeschüttelt von den Sohlen
Ist der Schulstaub; hohe Wogen
Tragen jetzt das Schiff des Jünglings.
Alle Anker sind gelichtet,
Alle Segel aufgezogen,
Und der Burschenfreiheit Flagge
Lustig flatternd zeigt die Inschrift:
“Nitimur in vetitum!”
Schöne Tage wilder Freiheit!
Fröhlich sammelt ihr die Jünger
Der kastalischen neun Schwestern
Auch in andrer Götter Hallen.
An den duftenden Altären
Eines Bacchus und Gambrinus,
Edler Säfte milder Spende,
Opfert froh der Neophyt.
Auch des kampfesfrohen Mavors
Heiligthum erschliesst sich prangend.
Hört ihr dort den Schall der Waffen?
Hört ihr dort des Kampfes Tosen?
Hei! wie blitzen scharfe Klingen,
Hei! wie pfeifen Terz und Quarten,
Wie so Mancher haut so Manchem
Ueber’s Maul, und wird gehau’n.
Und so schlang ein rother Faden
(Nämlich der von Blut und Eisen)
Damals schon durch unsres “Burschen.
Erdenwallen” sich; es melden
Göttingen, Berlin und Greifswald
Kühnen Muthes hohe “Thaten
Von vergangner Jahre Tagen”—
Wie einst Ossian es sang.
APPENDIX B.
THE PRUSSIAN CONSTITUTION OF 1847.
(Page 166.)
The great interest and importance of the following documents, from their
forming the absolute point of departure of Bismarck’s political activity,
has induced their republication in this volume, together with some few
other papers bearing upon various matters in relation to German and
Prussian politics. At the present day they can not fail to be read with
interest, inasmuch as they illustrate in a remarkable degree the impolicy
of hasty concessions. The Prussia and Germany of 1847 was hardly prepared
by political education and enlightenment for such concessions, and the
immediate effect, which the English editor of these pages personally
witnessed, was a stimulant to the ultra party to demand more and more at
the hands of the King. The text amply illustrates the excited state of
public opinion at the time, which culminated in the days of March, 1848,
and has required the steady and fearless hand of Count Bismarck to rein
in. Political students can make their own comments.
The following is a translation of a decree dated Berlin, February 3d,
1847:—
We, Frederick William, by the grace of God, King of Prussia, etc., give
notice, and herewith ordain to be known:—
Since the commencement of our government we have constantly applied
particular care to the development of the relations of the States of our
country.
We recognize in this matter one of the weightiest problems of the kingly
calling bestowed on us by God, in the solution of which a twofold aim
is marked out for us—namely, to transmit the rights, the dignity, and
the power of the Crown, inherited from our ancestors of glorious memory,
intact to our successors on the throne; but at the same time to grant, to
the faithful States of our monarchy that co-operation which, in unison
with those rights, and the peculiar relations of our monarchy, is fitted
to secure a prosperous future to our country.
In respect whereof, continuing to build on the laws given by His late
Majesty our Royal Father, now resting with God, particularly on the
Ordinance respecting the national debt of the 17th of January, 1820, and
on the law respecting the regulation of the Provincial Diets of the 5th
of June, 1828, we decree as follows:—
1.—As often as the wants of the State may require either fresh loans, or
the introduction of new taxes, or the increase of those already existing,
we will call together around us the Provincial Diets of the monarchy in
an United Diet, in order, firstly, to call into play that co-operation
of the Diets provided by the Ordinance respecting the national debt; and
secondly, to assure us of their consent.
2.—We will for the future call together at periodical times the Committee
of the United Diet.
3.—To the United Diet, and, as its representative, to the Committee of
the United Diet, we intrust—
(a.) In reference to counsel of the Diet in legislation, the same
co-operation which was assigned to the Provincial Diets by the law of
June 5th, 1823, Sec. 3, No. 2, so long as no general assemblies of the
Diet take place.
(b.) The co-operation of the Diets in paying the interest on, and
liquidation of, the State debts, provided, by the law of January 17th,
1820, in so far as such business is not confided to the Deputation of the
Diet for the national debt.
(c.) The right of petition upon internal, though not merely provincial,
matters.
All the above, as is more closely defined in our Ordinances of this day
respecting the formation of an United Diet, the periodical assembling of
the committee of the United Diet and its functions, and the formation of
a deputation of the Diet for the national debt.
While we thus far refer to the promises of that Gracious Sovereign
our Royal Father, on the raising of new loans, as well as the increase
of existing taxes, which are founded on that system of the German
Constitution, bound up with the assent of the States, and in thereby
giving to our subjects a special proof of our royal confidence; so we
expect in return the like confidence from their often-proved fidelity and
honor, as was shown when we ascended the throne of our father, and also
we expect that they will support us and our efforts directed solely to
the welfare of the country, on which efforts success under God’s gracious
assistance can not fail to await.
Officially authenticated by our own subscription, and sealed with our
royal seal.
FREDERICK WILLIAM.
Given at Berlin, Feb. 3d, 1847.
(L.S.)
ORDINANCE OF THE THIRD OF FEBRUARY, 1847, FOR THE FORMATION OF THE UNITED
DIET.
We, Frederick William, by the grace of God, King of Prussia, etc.,
having taken the opinion of our Ministers of State, make the following
Ordinance, in pursuance of our letters patent of this day, in the matter
of the affairs of the Diets, respecting the formation of an United Diet:—
Section 1.—We shall unite the eight Provincial Diets of our monarchy in
one Diet, as often as is necessary, according to the tenor of our letters
patent of this day, or on any other occasion when we think it needful on
account of urgent matters of State.
With regard to the place of assembly, and the continuance of the Session
of this United Diet, as well as with regard to its opening and close, we
will make a special determination in each particular case.
Section 2.—We grant to the Princes of our Royal House, as soon as,
according to the prescriptions of law, they have attained majority,
the right of sitting and voting in the Estate of Princes, Counts, and
Lords, at the United Diet. The Estate of Nobles in this Diet is composed,
besides, of the Princes and Counts of the old Imperial Constitution, who
have seats in the Provincial Diets, as well as of the Silesian Princes
and noblemen, and all other founders, Princes, Counts, and Lords of the
eight Provincial Diets who are entitled either to a single or collective
vote in those Assemblies.
The Princes of our House may, under our sanction, in case of hindrance,
intrust some other Prince of our House with the disposal of their votes.
Single members of the Estate of Nobles, who are invested with full powers
in the Provincial Diet, retain this privilege in like manner for the
United Diet.
In respect to the organization and enlargement of the Estate of Nobles,
we reserve to ourselves the right of further regulations.
Section 3.—The Deputies of the Estate of Knighthood, and the Commoners of
the eight Provinces of our monarchy, are to appear in the United Diet in
the same numbers as in the Provincial Diets.
Section 4.—To the United Diet we intrust the co-operation reserved
to the Provincial Diets in case of State loans by Article 2 of the
Ordinance relative to the national debt, dated January 17th, 1820; and,
accordingly, no new loans, for which the collective property of the State
may be assigned as security (Article 3 of the Ordinance of January 17th,
1820), shall be contracted without the concurrence and guaranty of the
United Diet.
Section 5.—If new loans, of the nature mentioned in Section 4, are
required for covering the expenses of the State in time of peace, we will
not contract them without the consent of the United Diet.
Section 6.—If, however, in the event of expected war, or war already
broken out, the funds in our Treasury, and other reserve funds, are
insufficient for the requisite purpose, extraordinary supplies and loans
must therefore be raised; and if urgent political circumstances should
not admit of our appeal to the United Diet, the said loan shall be raised
with the concurrence of the deputation for the national debt, which
concurrence shall stand in lieu of the co-operation of the States. Loans
for the above-mentioned objects, contracted with the concurrence of the
deputation, will be raised on the same security as that which, in Article
3 of the Ordinance of January 17th, 1820, is assigned for the national
debt.
Section 7.—Should a loan be raised in the manner mentioned in Section 6,
we will, on the removal of the obstacles which prevented an appeal to the
United Diet, call it together, and explain the object and application of
the loan.
Section 8.—Moreover, the United Diet, conformably with Article 9 of
the Ordinance of January 17th, 1820, must propose to us the candidates
for vacant posts in the chief department for the administration of the
national debt; and, conformably with Article 13 of the said Ordinance,
the accounts for the administration of the national debt, drawn up by the
deputation, must be carefully examined by the United Diet, and submitted
to us for discharge in separate resolutions.
When the United Diet is not sitting, this business must be transacted by
the Committee of the United Diet.
Section 9.—Without the consent of the United Diet, we will not introduce
any new imposts, nor increase the amount of the existing taxes, either
generally or in any particular province.
This condition does not, however, extend to import, export, and transit
duties, nor to those indirect taxes, the specification, levying, or
administration of which may be the subjects of an understanding with
other Powers; neither does that condition refer to domains or royal
property (whether the arrangements relate to income or to substance), or
to taxes for objects relating to provinces, circles, or communes.
Section 10.—In the event of a war, we reserve to ourselves the right of
levying extraordinary taxes without the assent of the United Diet, when
urgent political circumstances do not permit us to call it together. In
such cases, however, we will, as soon as circumstances permit, or at
latest on the termination of the war, make known to the United Diet the
object and application of the extraordinary taxes which may have been
levied.
Section 11.—Should the Diet be called together on any of the occasions
specified in Sections 4-10, copies of the finance estimates and the
accounts of the State for the intervals between the sittings of the
Assembly shall be submitted to the members for their information.
The fixing of the finance estimates, as well as determining the
employment of the State revenue, and the application of the surplus to
the wants and welfare of the State, remains an exclusive privilege of the
Crown.
Section 12.—Conformably with a law of the 5th of January, 1823, we
reserve to ourselves the right of demanding extraordinary counsel from
the United Diet in framing laws relating to alterations in the rights
of persons and property, or on other matters than those alluded to in
Section 9, which have for their object alterations in the taxes, whether
those laws concern the whole monarchy or several provinces. The Diet is
authorized to give the required counsel, with full lawful effect.
Should we deem it necessary to seek counsel of the Diet concerning
changes in the constitution of the Diet—changes which, not being limited
to any particular province, are not to be arranged by the Diet of that
province—we shall demand an opinion from the United Diet, for whose
consideration changes in such matters of State are exclusively reserved.