I RETURN TO BERLIN AND RENEW MY INTERCOURSE WITH THE CHANCELLOR--THE
HISTORY OF MY BOOK--BISMARCK ON THE OPPOSITION OF THE FREE TRADERS
AND THE HOSTILITY OF THE NATIONAL LIBERALS--HIS OPINION OF THE
EMPEROR AND OF THE CROWN PRINCE AND PRINCESS--HIS INSTRUCTIONS
TO ATTACK GORTSCHAKOFF’S POLICY--MEMBERS OF PARLIAMENT WHO
HAVE NO EXPERIENCE OF REAL LIFE--CONVERSATION WITH VON THILE
RESPECTING HIS RETIREMENT--THE TURNING AWAY FROM RUSSIA AND TOWARDS
AUSTRIA-HUNGARY--MATERIAL FOR THE HISTORY OF THE ALLIANCE WITH THE
AUSTRIANS--THE PRINCE ON THE PARLIAMENTARY FRACTIONS--HE DESCRIBES
BÜLOW’S POSSIBLE SUCCESSORS: HATZFELDT, HOHENLOHE, RADOWITZ,
SOLMS, WERTHER, AND KEUDELL--THE CHANCELLOR’S REMARKABLE OPINION
OF STOSCH--ITALIAN POLITICS--POPE LEO--THE PRINCE ON THE CROWN
PRINCE--THE ENVIOUS AND AMBITIOUS IN PARLIAMENT--THE CAUSES OF THE
CHANCELLOR CRISIS IN APRIL--KING STEPHAN AGAINST KING WILLIAM--THE
NEW MINISTRY IN ENGLAND--DELBRÜCK’S ILLNESS AND THE PRINCE’S
OPPONENTS IN THE REICHSTAG--THE CENTRE PARTY DESCRIBED--THORNDIKE
RICE’S REQUEST.
The “Reminiscences” in the _Gartenlaube_ were in great part fragments
from the first half of the diary which I kept in France in 1870 and
1871. During their preparation I bethought myself that at the audience
in which I took leave of the Prince in March 1873 he had said it would
be useful and desirable if the whole of the diary were published with
the exception of those passages which tact and prudence rendered
it advisable to suppress. Therefore when I set about carrying his
desire into effect the only question was whether he was still of the
same opinion and would assist me in the work by looking through the
proofs sheet by sheet, striking out what he considered questionable,
correcting and possibly making additions. In order to be certain on
this point I proceeded to Berlin in the first week of April 1878, and,
giving a short account of my plan, I requested an audience for the
purpose of talking over the matter. On the same day, the 6th of April,
I received the following letter:--
“Verehrter Herr Doctor,--My father desires me to inform you
that he will be at home all day to-day, and would be glad to see you.
If you have time, he would beg you to come to dinner at 5 o’clock; if
not, to call at any hour convenient to you.
“With the profoundest esteem,
“Your most humble,
“Count Bismarck.”
I accepted this invitation, dined with the family, and afterwards
negotiated with the Prince respecting my proposal. He immediately gave
his consent, only pointing out with regard to the co-operation which
I requested, that if he were to read through and make alterations and
occasional additions in the proofs he would be regarded by the public
as one of the authors of the book. I overcame his scruples on this head
by assuring him that, during his lifetime, no one except the publisher,
a friend upon whose discretion I could rely, would know that he had
permitted and assisted the publication within the limits laid down--not
even the printing office, as I would have two proofs sent me, one
for him and one for myself, and would reproduce in my own copy any
excisions, corrections, and additions which he might make in his, and
only send the former to the printer. On these conditions he also agreed
to this part of my request. As the manuscript was so far complete that
it could be sent to press, the work was taken in hand in accordance
with the terms arranged.
On the 5th of July, 1878, the proofs of the first two sheets were sent
by the publisher to the Prince in Berlin, and the subsequent ones to
Kissingen, where the Chancellor--who was undergoing a cure--remained
till the third week in August; then to Gastein, where he again took the
waters up to the 16th of September; afterwards to Varzin, and finally
once more to Berlin, where I had once more taken up my residence.
The proofs were returned to me with the Chancellor’s corrections,
for the most part in a few days after they had been despatched by
the publisher, in order that I should reproduce the alterations in
the copy intended for the printer. No arrangement having been made
for their destruction I considered myself at liberty to retain them
as a memento of my intercourse with the Prince, and I still preserve
them. In some sheets there were no corrections, in others a few, while
considerable excisions were made in a number of them--the portions
struck out, however, not exceeding in all more than one-fiftieth of the
whole. At the same time it was evident that the Prince had read the
whole very carefully, as he had corrected even unimportant printer’s
errors. My princely censor had justified some of the larger excisions
by marginal explanations, and also in the letters sent through the
Imperial Chancellerie with which the proofs were accompanied. These
refer for the most part to statements made by the Prince respecting
personages still living whom he was anxious not to offend. My princely
“collaborator” also made occasional short additions to my text. It
is hardly necessary to say that all alterations were conscientiously
reproduced by me and included in the work.
So far everything seemed to be in proper order. Up to his return to
Varzin the Prince had apparently no objection to my undertaking beyond
those to which he gave expression in the excisions and marginal notes,
as well as in the accompanying letters already mentioned, written by
his secretary, Sachse, and which might be regarded as disposed of by
myself and the printing office. Now, however, some further objections
must have occurred to him. On the 27th of September I received the
following letter:--
“Varzin, _September 26th_.
“My dear Sir,--I take the liberty of sending you herewith the
proof-sheets as corrected. My father would like to speak to you once
more about the whole work and its contents before you allow it to be
published, as he believes that, after verbal communication with him,
you may perhaps make a few further abbreviations. Possibly you may
be able, at the beginning of next month, to come to Berlin, where my
father will be very pleased to see you. In this case I would beg of you
to send word a little in advance, to me or to Baron Holstein. We shall
be in Berlin from Sunday on.
“With the profoundest esteem,
“Your most humble,
“Count Herbert Bismarck.”
Having at that time again taken up my residence in Berlin, I called
upon the Prince at his new palace, No. 77 Wilhelmstrasse, on the 4th of
October, and had an interview with him in his study looking out upon
the garden, which lasted from 4.15 to 5.15 P.M. He received me
in a very friendly way, gave me his hand, and, after inviting me to sit
down opposite him at the other side of his large writing-table, said:--
“Well, then, you have once more become a Berliner?”
“Yes, Serene Highness; I found Leipzig too dull in the long run, and,
besides, I wished to be near you in order to offer you my services as
occasion arose.”
He: “And you have broken with the _Gartenlaube_?”
I: “Keil (the publisher) died six or seven months ago, and the new
editors considered many things to be trivial, and wished to have
them struck out. I was of a different opinion, however, and, as the
gentlemen held to their own view, I took back my manuscript. I shall,
however, in future have the _Grenzboten_ entirely at my disposal, or at
least the whole political part of it, which, at present, is not what it
ought to be. The article in question was that on Varzin, which, it is
true, I treated in great detail. But I look on these things with the
eyes of the next century, and I therefore find nothing which concerns
you trivial and insignificant; and I feel sure that posterity will be
of the same opinion.”
He: “But not the present day. That also applies to the book, which has
grown too bulky owing to the numerous details, and you will not make
any profit on it. Besides, there are passages that could be turned into
ridicule, and the comic papers will not fail to take advantage of that
opportunity. And I, too, should come in for my share. I do not mind
that, however, but you?”
I: “It is also a matter of indifference to me. I have no fear, either
of them or of the other critics, if I only know that I have not lost
your good will thereby.”
He: “Oh! certainly; but you have given the remarks made by others at
my table--what was said over the wine, and should not be made public.
You will make yourself many enemies in that way. I have not struck out
much, and have left in a great deal that really ought to have gone out.
Other things, however, had to go.”
He took up two of the proof-sheets and looked them over. “For instance,
that my poor father ate bad oysters. And here, where Lehndorf tells the
story about Princess Pless and the Crown Prince. What will Lehndorf
think when he sees what he said at my table published by some one?”
I replied that I was not aware he had meant the Princess Pless, and
that she had not been named by me.
He: “Yes, but that would be inferred from what preceded. And here
again, that I drink freely in order to mitigate the weariness of
tiresome company. The _Germania_ and the Socialist papers will seize on
that and make me out to be a drunkard. And that story about Rechberg.
What would he say? Besides, the affair was quite different to the
account you give in the first eight or ten lines. It was not he who
had given the provocation, but I, and it was he who first spoke of a
challenge.”[19]
The Prince then came to speak of other matters in the sheets before
him which he considered unsuitable for publication, as for instance
a passage in the second volume, page 262, of which he remarked: “H’m,
‘That is boiling thought to rags--mere flatulence,’ I know I said that,
but everybody must recognise that that applies to the King. And Augusta
will read the book--carefully--underline it for him, and comment upon
it. Of course I know I had a hard time of it with him at Versailles
for whole weeks. I wished to retire, and there was nothing to be done
with him. Even now I have often a great deal of trouble with him. One
writes an important note or despatch, revises it, rewrites it six or
even seven times, and then when he comes to see it he adds things that
are entirely unsuitable--the very opposite of what one means and wishes
to attain--and what is more, it is not even grammatical. Indeed, one
might almost say that the Nobiling affair was a piece of good luck--on
account of the Congress. If that had not happened I should not have
secured anything at the Congress; for he is always in favour of schemes
that will not work, and is wilful and opinionated in maintaining them.
Others too in his most intimate _entourage_ have to suffer from this
aggravating peculiarity of his which he calls conscientiousness. You
should see them when they no longer have to deal with him--they look
quite changed, just as if they had returned from a holiday. But the
Crown Prince is entirely different.”
In reply to my question he then expressed himself favourably respecting
the Crown Prince and his Consort. On my leading the conversation on
to the Duke of Coburg, the Chief observed: “I have also been obliged
to strike out some passages here, as that would cause great offence,
seeing that he is the ‘dear uncle.’” He chiefly referred to one or two
passages respecting the efforts of his Highness to represent himself as
resolute and fearless. In this connection he mentioned the Eckernförde
picture, and I related to him the true story of the affair according
to Tims’s account. On my observing that the exalted gentleman had no
courage whatever he said: “He cannot help that, it’s his nature--but
that he should have had himself painted as a hero--a stage hero!”
I inquired how he now stood with the Empress. He replied: “Just as
before. She does what she can against me, and she is not always
unsuccessful with the Emperor. She will ultimately drive Falk from
office. The Court Chaplain? Christianity by all means, but no
sectarianism! It just occurs to me,” he went on to say, “that in the
Horsitz affair you write that Prince Charles sent Perponcher to offer
me a bed. It was not he who did that, but the Duke of Mecklenburg. Such
an idea would never occur to the Prince. He hates me and has already
caused me plenty of heartburning.”
I then expressed the hope that he would not attribute the passages
that had been struck out to any bad will on my part but rather to
thoughtlessness, as I had intended the whole work to serve and not
to injure him. He replied: “A great deal of it is good and quite
satisfactory, as for instance the portion dealing with the Pope and the
Catholics. I only wish you had made it fuller. But that perhaps can be
done later, when a good many things might be added. But could you not
now abbreviate some parts of it?”
I replied in the negative, as thousands of the forty or forty-one
pages which we had read through were now printed, and any alteration
would occasion great expense. When a second edition was being issued
I would beg him to let me know what he wished to add. I could also be
of service to him in the _Grenzboten_, which, it was true, was a small
newspaper, but still enjoyed a certain prestige. Besides, we could
get its more important articles reproduced in the daily papers, as has
been done with success during the previous year. He seemed disposed to
consider this suggestion.
On my asking after his health, and whether Kissingen and Gastein had
done him good, he replied: “Gastein, yes--but the waters are dangerous.
They oblige one to be very careful afterwards, particularly with regard
to worry and excitement. Otherwise they make one quite dull and heavy.
I have now found that out. I suppose you know about my last illness?”
“Yes, it was another attack of shingles.”
“No, it was something else. The shorthand writers turned against me
in connection with my last speech. So long as I was popular that was
not the case. They garbled what I said so that there was no sense in
it. When murmurs were heard from the Left or Centre they omitted the
word ‘Left,’ and when there was applause they forgot to mention it.
The whole Bureau acts in the same way. But I have complained to the
President. It was that which made me ill. It was like the illness
produced by over-smoking, a stuffiness in the head, giddiness, a
disposition to vomit, &c.” He then gave a full description of this
ailment, as also of the shingles.
I inquired whether he was returning to Varzin or would go to
Friedrichsruh, adding “or perhaps to the new Bavarian estate which is
mentioned in the newspapers.”
He smiled and said: “Bavarian estate! I have not the least idea of
buying one. I lose enough on the one I bought in Lauenburg, where the
purchase money eats up the income of the whole property. How can an
estate yield anything when the bushel of corn is sold at the present
low price?” He explained this point fully, and then continued: “I told
them that long ago and tried to find a remedy. It is ruining our entire
agriculture.”
I mentioned that I had heard the farmers at Wurzen and farther up in
Muldenthal complain of the intolerable competition of the Polish and
Hungarian corn, in view of the high wages they have to pay, and that
people looked to him for assistance. “Yes,” he said, “there will be no
improvement until there is an increase in the railway rates or a duty
on corn.”
I then turned the conversation once more on the _Grenzboten_, remarking
that the publisher put it at his disposal unconditionally, and that I
should be able to say whatever I liked in it. I should not, however, be
in a position to do this before January or the beginning of February.
If he would permit, I then proposed to come from time to time and
ascertain his wishes.
“That will be a very good arrangement,” he said, “but I do not know
whether I shall be back in February. We must first marry our daughter.”
I congratulated him. “It is time,” he replied. “She has already had
several good offers, but she is an obstinate, capricious creature. You
know there was formerly Count Eulenburg, who had absolutely nothing but
his salary, and the present one also does not draw more than a thousand
thalers a year from his property, which after all is not exactly a
large income.” I interjected: “But the Rantzaus were formerly very
rich! I believe I read somewhere that they had about seventy estates
and houses.” “Formerly,” he replied, “but not now--and moreover he is
not the eldest son. But I fancy they can live very well on what they
now have and will receive later on.”
As we did not appear to have quite settled about the _Grenzboten_
scheme, I returned to it once more, pointing out that my idea was to
report myself and request his instructions on occasions of particular
importance, domestic crises, foreign complications, &c. I must draw
my information from the fountain head, as, although I was on friendly
terms with Bucher, I understood that he had no longer much intercourse
with the Prince. “Bucher!” he said, “yes; but it is the same with the
others since I have got a representative--and Bülow. Altogether I am,
in fact, no longer anything more than a Ziska drum.” I suggested: “But
I can come at night, like Nicodemus.” “Certainly come. I shall be very
glad. But why like Nicodemus? You can also come in the day time.”
He then repeated that the comic papers would turn the book into
ridicule, that the Ultramontanes and Socialists would make capital out
of it against him, and that I, too, would make myself many enemies by
it. It was a matter of indifference to him, but I ought to be on my
guard. I repeated that I was not in the least anxious on the subject,
as his opinion was the only thing I cared about. He then stood up, came
with me as far as the door of the antechamber, and shook hands with me
on parting.
About a fortnight later I read in the papers an account of the death
of Bismarck-Bohlen, our comrade during the French campaign. The news
was doubly sad. The merry Count had become a melancholy man and had
taken his own life. Italian papers gave the following particulars of
his last days. In consequence of a distressing complaint he had for
the past five years spent the winter in Venice, where he occupied a
handsomely furnished flat in the Zattere. This year he had arrived on
the 7th of October, accompanied by his valet. He seemed to be utterly
prostrate in health, and had not gone out for several days previous to
the catastrophe, nor seen any one except his servant and the doctor.
The report proceeds as follows: “On the evening of the 15th he retired
to his bedroom. As, up to 10 o’clock next morning, he had not rung
the bell the servant came to his door, listened, and then knocked.
Receiving no answer he opened the door, when he saw his master lying
on the bed, covered with blood, and holding a revolver in his hand.
The doctor and the German Consul were sent for. The former certified
that the Count was dead, and that his death took place under peculiarly
ghastly circumstances. The track of blood showed that he had, in his
dressing-room, opened the veins of both arms and both legs, at the
same time giving himself two gashes in the throat. All this was not
sufficient to kill him, and so he had dragged himself, streaming with
blood, from the dressing-room into the bedroom, seized a revolver and
fired a bullet into his head between the ear and eye.”
The book, _Count Bismarck and his People_ (_Graf Bismarck und seine
Leute_) was published at the beginning of November. It immediately
attracted universal attention, and was reviewed in the German, and
soon afterwards in the foreign press from the most varied points of
view, forming for several weeks a general subject of conversation. All
the opinions agreed in one particular, namely, that _the author was
in a position to tell the truth, and had desired to do so_. For the
rest, there was a wide divergency of views, both as to the intention
and justification of the author in making his revelations, and as to
the literary value of his work. A remarkable circumstance was that
there seemed to be a certain fixed relation between the favour shown
by the critics, and the distance between Berlin and the place where
the reviews appeared, these growing more favourable as the distance
increased. It was amusing to note that many formed their opinion of
the book without having read anything beyond a number of sensational
extracts from it; and several papers showed questionable taste in
treating it in an unfriendly fashion after having filled column after
column with what struck them as its most interesting passages.
The views expressed by most of the large newspapers in Germany were
depreciatory, and, with a few exceptions, the smaller journals
copied the others in the usual way. The author met with a kindly and
appreciative treatment from only a few organs of the press, which
also, to a certain extent, recognised the real meaning and object
of his work. The _Weser Zeitung_ recommended it as “a collection, a
real treasury of impressive and pregnant details.” The _Hamburger
Correspondent_ wrote: “The figure of the famous Chancellor rises before
our eyes in Busch’s pages with a life-like vigour and colour which
surpasses that of all the biographies that have hitherto appeared;
while the surroundings and the historical background are drawn with
equal skill.” The _Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung_ described the book
as being “readable and in a high degree instructive,” and observed:
“Notwithstanding the numerous publications on the events of 1870-71
that have already appeared, none of them is equal in interest to the
book now before us. It gives not only an insight into the private and,
we may say, family life of the then Chancellor of the Confederation
and his _entourage_, but it abounds in passages dealing with political
matters, some of which are of great importance.” A critic in the
_Berliner Boersen Zeitung_ said: “Every one is talking of Moritz
Busch’s collection of episodes and memorable utterances from the life
of the Imperial Chancellor.... These will be read throughout the whole
world. In itself the book would constitute a literary achievement of
first rank, even if its hero were a purely fictitious character, and
not the most powerful personality among the great politicians of our
century. Readers who have no appreciation for what is characteristic,
hold that the experiences and utterances of Prince Bismarck which
have been selected by Moritz Busch with great discrimination, include
many passages that are trivial and frivolous. Among these they often
reckon those strong characteristics which most strikingly reveal the
Chancellor’s nature, with its spontaneity, sober-mindedness, and
impartiality, and its almost plebeian unpretentiousness and simplicity.
Whoever admires the typical featureless hero of the German novelist,
a concoction of undiluted magnanimity and sentiment, will turn from
the portrait drawn by Moritz Busch with a feeling of embarrassment
and repulsion; but those who have educated their taste by a study of
the realistic authors will be enchanted with a picture the minutest
details of which are vivid and characteristic, even if their views
do not agree with those of the Imperial Chancellor.” The Scientific
Supplement to the _Leipziger Zeitung_, which was otherwise by no means
well disposed towards me, and had indeed taken a variety of exceptions
to the book and to its author, honestly and impartially recognised the
true tendency and significance of the work, saying that it contained
“records which may prove of the highest value to future historians,
indeed a great deal for which it will one day be the only trustworthy
source.” “As evidence of its value as a mine of historical materials
which is in some respects unique,” the critic then gave a number of
well-chosen extracts.
A few other organs of the German daily press expressed themselves in
a similar sense. As already mentioned, however, the great majority
of the newspapers were more or less decidedly unfavourable. This was
partly through a lack of political and general education, then because
the critics in question were incapable of appreciating the historical
significance of the work and lacked moral seriousness, while obviously
it was also due in part to low motives, hatred of the principal subject
of the work, wounded vanity, resentment against the author for having
published expressions of the Chancellor which referred slightingly to
party catchwords and party heroes, gave evidence of little sympathy
with the Jews, and--in the opinion of the critics--did less than
justice to certain belletristic products of recent decades. Finally,
it was evident that envy of the prospective success of the book was
also one of the influences at work. The author was indiscreet, and his
gift was a mere collection of trivialities, spicy stories, gossip, and
scandal. He was tedious, he had the soul of a flunkey, he had neither
taste nor literary ability, &c.
Quite comical was the position taken up by the _Post_, an otherwise
sensible, well-meaning, and sometimes well-informed paper. In an
article entitled “Indiscreet Books,” which appeared on the 10th of
November, it established, “by means of sound logic,” the genesis of the
work. Referring to the remarks made by the Prince at Versailles when he
ascertained the existence of my diary, the _Post_ (or its contributor,
Professor Constantine Rössler?) came to the following conclusions:
“Whoever is acquainted with the character of the Chancellor will agree
with us that he must have said to himself on that occasion, ‘If this
diary be in existence it must be published at the first opportunity.’
That is the method which the Chancellor has followed in the case of
diplomatic documents which have come into improper hands. Owing to the
difference between the position of the persons concerned, what called
for legal compulsion in the one case only required a mere hint in the
other. What is the characteristic feature of this method? We believe it
lies in the consciousness that there can be nothing more absurd than
secrets which have leaked out and which have passed, whether in the
shape of documents or as mere matters of memory, into the possession
of other men. The seal will be broken sooner or later, with greater
or less ease and skill, if the secret be worth the trouble, and it is
not in our power to dictate the time of disclosure, which may happen
at a very inconvenient moment. Therefore, break the seal, or rather,
never attempt to keep secrets that have once reached the outer world
in any form.... Prince Bismarck does not and cannot desire that there
should be any such secrets respecting himself. This is our explanation
of the reason why the present diary has been published, an explanation
which is as soundly established as any logical conclusion can be.”
This explanation (the author of which seemed to know nothing of secret
documents and archives, and to have overlooked the circumstance that
the diary had remained unpublished for nearly eight years) did not
hold water very long. Two days later it gave place to the following
correction: “Our attention is called to the fact that in the efforts
made to prevent the publication of these diary entries, Prince Bismarck
had no legal remedy to hand. Remonstrance, which was the only course
open to him, having failed, the Prince is obliged to count upon the
good sense of the reader of these utterances, which have been divorced
from their natural setting.” This _correction_ probably came from the
Imperial Chancellerie. An idea can be formed of its value from what has
been related previously. The circumstance that I let it pass unanswered
and did not state the true facts of the case, will perhaps not be
regarded as a mere matter of course by all persons, but the Prince knew
that it was so considered by me.
Let us now turn to the opinions of the foreign press. As was to be
expected, the book did not meet with approval in France, where its hero
as well as the author were made the subjects of embittered attacks. But
so far as my knowledge goes, it occurred to no one even in France to
question the _truth_ of the work. The _Mémorial Diplomatique_, among
others, wrote that “the book is thoroughly imbued with a spirit of
uncouth frankness, and the conversations and opinions which it contains
are expressed in a form of crude simplicity which does not belong to
the domain of the creative imagination.”
The work excited the greatest interest in the English press. _The
Times_ wrote a leading article upon it, and then devoted no less
than six of its huge columns in small print to extracts from it. It
was received with exceptional favour by most of the chief organs of
American criticism.
We have seen that the great majority of the German papers expressed an
unfavourable opinion on the Bismarck book, and that the action of our
press in many other ways was calculated to restrict its circulation.
Bismarck’s name, however, was too strong for them. The public
practically declared that their verdict was unfounded and did not
follow their leading, and for once the newspapers were not the great
power which they imagine themselves to be. Two editions, amounting
together to seven thousand copies, were exhausted within two months. A
third and fourth followed rapidly, and before the end of the first year
it was necessary to issue a fifth edition of the novelty which had made
so many enemies. There were at this time fourteen thousand copies of
the book in circulation, certainly a very considerable success in view
of the fact that times were not particularly good and the price of the
two volumes by no means moderate. Even then the run continued. A sixth
edition appeared after a certain interval, and subsequently a seventh,
a popular issue of ten thousand copies in another and cheaper form.
That was not all. In a few months after the first publication of the
book in German there were nine translations on the market. That was
nine translations in as many months, and an entire circulation at
home and abroad of about 50,000 copies. Moreover, the German literary
hacks who occupied themselves with Bismarck lived upon fragments of
my work and drew their supplies from it for years, frequently without
mentioning their authority. As to the domestic circulation of the
book, I may mention that about a thousand copies were sold in Berlin,
where the _Vossische Zeitung_, and the _National Zeitung_ had spoken
so slightingly of it and warned so strongly against it; and that of
all our cities Cologne was the largest purchaser in proportion to its
population.
Towards the end of November, 1878, I informed the Chief that if
he desired to see any additions made to portions of the book an
opportunity would be afforded by the preparation of the third edition
which the publisher had in view. I concluded this letter with the
words: “If I have left unanswered the gross falsehoods that have been
circulated respecting the book and its author by a portion of the
German press, and do not intend in future to make any reply, however
sharply I may be attacked, I trust I may flatter myself that I am
acting in accordance with your wishes. If I have not deceived myself
in this respect, all these insinuations and insults are a matter of
indifference to me, particularly as I see from the better German
newspapers, as well as from _The Times_ and the _Perseveranza_, that
my intention that the book should be of service to you has in the main
been realised.”
If it were no longer intended to extend certain portions of the work,
this letter required no answer, and as none came I took it for granted
that the intention referred to had been renounced. We now proceeded
to reorganise the _Grenzboten_, and I wrote several articles for it,
strongly supporting the Customs policy of the Imperial Chancellor, and
opposing equally strongly the champions of unqualified free-trade;
being actively assisted by Bucher with verbal and written advice. On
the 15th of January, 1879, however, I applied directly to the Chief
himself for further information, and received the following letter,
dated the 15th, from his younger son:--
“My dear Sir,--In reply to your friendly letter of the 10th
instant, I have the honour, as instructed by my father, to inform you
that he is just now very much occupied, and regrets being unable to
spare time for an interview with you.
“He hopes, however, that this load of work will shortly be reduced, and
he will then be very pleased to see you.
“With profoundest esteem,
“Your very devoted,
“Count W. Bismarck.”
On the 23rd of February the Prince sent me word to call upon him next
day, when I had an interview with him extending from 2.45 to 3.45
P.M., which was in many respects very remarkable.
Theiss announced my arrival and Mantey showed me out. The Chancellor
looked very well and was friendly, as he always is. He came a few steps
to meet me, gave me his hand and asked, smiling: “Well, are you still
of opinion that you have done me a service with the book?” “Yes, Serene
Highness,” I replied, “with all right minded and sensible people.”
We then sat down at the writing-table, and he said: “Yes, but they are
not numerous. It must give others the impression that I am a bitter,
censorious, envious creature, who cannot bear the vicinity of any
greatness. Humboldt--well, I give him up, he was really an envious
creature--Heise, Gagern. It’s well I struck out what I said about
Moltke. That would have been still worse, for when effrontery succeeds
it is all right. You have also come off badly--just as I told you.”
I: “Oh! certainly. They have made me out to be a fearful cur:
narrow-minded, indiscreet, tactless, tedious, and what’s more, a
flunkey and an Epicurean. All that is wanting is that they should say
I am accustomed to devour a couple of babies for breakfast. The Jewish
press in particular. But I despise this stuff too much to pay any
attention to it.”
He: “The Jews were angry at your letting me say they are not painters.
Meyerheim let me know that he is not a Jew, not even his grandfather.
All the same, I do appear in the book to be bitter and envious, and
I think I am not that. I know very well that you did not intend it.
We both knew the reasons why I was often angry and bitter, and I knew
still more about it. Such shameful things had happened that I wished to
retire--at Versailles.”
I: “Dupanloup?”
He: “Still worse.... Then in the diary form the whole thing was bound
to be fragmentary, and many connecting links had to be omitted.”
I: “I regret that it gives many persons that impression, but my
intention was only to show how Count Bismarck felt, thought and lived
at a certain period--during the war with France. It was not to be a
delineation of character, but only a photograph of an important period
in your life, so far as I could see it--a contribution to history. I
have not merely reproduced the scoffing remarks, but also the
appreciative opinions, and have communicated traits which, if I may so
express myself, show that you are good-natured and humane, and, in
particular, that you sympathise with the feelings of the common people.”
He: “H’m, and pray what might those traits be?”
I: “The sentinel at Bar le Duc, for example, and the Bavarian
stragglers after the battle of Beaumont, together with the first
sentence of the remarks you made at Ferrières, which began with
reference to the spot of grease on the table-cloth. Also your opinion
of Dietze, when the _politesse de cœur_ was discussed. You praised him
very highly.”
He: “Yes: but after all he is of no importance, not a politician. A
good deal that would have been useful to me ought to have been given
more fully, and other things should have been omitted. It was not
possible to do that, however, owing to the fragmentary form.”
“But that can be remedied in the fifth edition,” I replied. “You were
thinking of doing so the last time I had the honour of speaking to
you on the subject. You can give me additions, for instance what you
have said on various occasions respecting the Pope and the Catholics.”
“I would not recommend that now,” he replied, “in your interest and
in mine. The indignation aroused by the book has now subsided, and
anything of the kind would revive the discussion of the whole subject
in the entire press.”
I observed: “The book has also been praised by papers of high standing
in Germany, and more particularly in England and America. _The Times_
published three long articles on it, and it has been described as a
eulogy, but one which is based solely upon truth.”
“Yes, in England,” he said; “but here at home, that is the main point.”
I continued: “And then I have not given merely conversations, but
also newspaper articles which contained not my ideas but yours. I am
heartily sorry that it has injured you. I was pleased with everything
you said. I am quite indifferent to what people say about myself. Every
word of abuse was an advertisement. I do not care for the esteem of our
journalists or of those who accept their views. I have no fear, because
I have no hope.”
“No hope?” he asked, as if he had not quite understood me.
“Yes, Serene Highness,” I replied; “no hope--that is to say, I am
not ambitious and have no personal aspirations. I do my duty as I
understand it. For the rest, I hold to the principle which has been
described as the ninth beatitude: Blessed is he that expecteth nothing,
for he shall not be disappointed. I know too that I am not what they,
in their envy and wounded vanity, describe me to be. And finally, in
issuing this book I have not depended at all upon my own judgment, but
submitted it to you before it was printed.”
“That is true,” he replied; “but out of consideration for you I did not
strike out as much as I ought to have done. Arrangements had already
been made, and a good deal of it was printed. It would have lost in
interest if much had been omitted, and I did not wish to diminish your
success.”
“I thank your Serene Highness for that,” I said. “But I have myself
also left out a great deal of what appeared to me to be questionable
matter respecting princely personages, the Emperor and others. One
passage which some people think refers to the Emperor was overlooked. I
myself had not thought of him in giving the passage.”
He asked: “Why, what was that?”
I replied: “That in which the flags are referred to which were not
mentioned in the treaty and which they afterward desired to have
delivered up--the Parisian flags, Serene Highness.”
“Ah, that was less the King than Podbielski. Well, you must omit that
passage in future editions. For the rest, _once I am dead you can say
whatever you like, everything you know_.” I replied: “May that day be
far distant! and in the meantime the book shall remain as it is, unless
you wish to make any additions yourself. I have no idea whatever
of taking any independent action in the matter.” “How old are you,
doctor?” he asked. “Fifty-eight, Serene Highness.” “Well then, I am six
years older than you.”
He then spoke of the opposition of the free-traders in the Reichstag
who denounced his schemes of Customs reform. “It is remarkable,” he
said, “how they, Richter and Bamberger, in their speeches always attack
me personally instead of dealing with the question under discussion.
The personality is of course a matter of indifference. My former ideas?
How I have come to hold such views? Whether I have been consistent?
I formerly consented to that which I now oppose; I have been playing
a part; I am an amateur of genius, full of contradictions and always
disposed to experiment at random. That is the main point for them. It
is only incidentally that they refer to the matter itself. Whether I
have a system? Richter at length said the only sensible and correct
thing, that I doubtless had no system whatever. That statement is quite
true, if it be limited to economic affairs--people are eventually
forced to admit that I have one in politics. When I entered office
my task was mainly a political one: the unification of Germany under
Prussia. I was obliged to subordinate economic considerations, in so
far as they were in any way affected, to that end. Otherwise I should
have had no time. I had Delbrück for economic affairs, with which he
was thoroughly acquainted, having administered them for years and
being the first authority in his department. I reposed confidence in
him, and when I was of a different opinion I sacrificed my opinions
for political reasons, and also because I still wanted him for the
founding of the Empire, after 1866 and 1870. If I was of a different
opinion I did not enforce it officially. He has therefore acted for
years by my side with perfect independence. It is true that afterwards
my attention was called to the fact that we were not on the right
track, at first through the complaints and admonitions of the public.
But it was only when political questions no longer occupied the first
place that I was able to consider the matter on its merits and not in
connection with those questions. And it was not until Delbrück had
retired in consequence of ill health--perhaps he had himself recognised
that things could no longer go on as they had been doing--that I was
obliged to form my own opinion, since I had no one to replace him. His
two councillors were unsuitable. Michaelis is quite insignificant, and
the other is only useful for certain things. In that way I was actually
forced to take the matter in hand myself, and then I found that it
must be managed differently. Moreover the entire current of affairs
had changed, the other Powers being about to adopt a different policy
or having already done so: Austria and Russia had suddenly taken the
plunge by providing that in future the Customs dues must be paid in
gold, while France, in spite of the payment of the milliards to us,
was continuing to prosper, but not under a free-trade system. Then
the Americans, who, by an increase of the tariff, had been enabled to
drive others out of the market! Only two countries were constantly
losing ground: Rich, burly, full-blooded England, with its old industry
favoured in so many different ways; and poor, weakly Germany, which was
still engaged in making a beginning--the latter being the worse off of
the two. It was therefore necessary to follow suit and speedily.”
I said that the Opposition did not appear to feel any confidence
in their cause. A National Liberal member of Parliament, Roemer of
Hildesheim, had agreed with me when I told him the day before that
the Prince would certainly be victorious, and had added: “Why, in
his speech he threatened us with a dissolution, and if that were to
take place many of us would not come back after the elections.” The
Chief replied: “I have not exactly done that, but it may come to it.
If only the manufacturers would not isolate themselves, split up into
fractions, and cut themselves off from the agricultural classes! They
would like to negotiate respecting individual items, the iron tariff,
and so forth,--every one for himself. But that will not work. They must
hold together. If you can remember that as well as you did the bitter
remarks at Versailles I shall be very pleased.”
I suggested that it might perhaps be well for me to get some materials
for articles out of the documents that had already been drawn up on
the question in order to prepare the public mind. He replied: “Yes,
but these are not yet ready. There is great procrastination. I do not
mean that the officials are badly disposed, but they do not make any
progress, and the Commission is waiting for the necessary data. I have
taken this load upon my shoulders in addition to the others, and should
like to do it all myself. And then one has all sorts of vexation and
worry, which does not tend to improve the health, any more than the
enormous quantities of work I have been doing recently. I have been
busier at Friedrichsruh than in Berlin.”
I asked how his health in general now was. “Not what it should be,”
he replied. “I am weak in the legs and cannot stand for any length
of time. Leyden said to me: ‘If this weakness in the legs is to be
remedied, the head must do no work for three months.’ I ought to have
resigned, and I had intended doing so two years ago. But what is a man
to do when he cannot resist tears? Still I should have gone; but the
National Liberals began their attacks, and I was obliged to remain. And
then there was the outrage in addition: the old man with his bandaged
arm lying there, and hardly able to say ‘Yes’ at the Council respecting
the Regency--I thought to myself that it would be a sin against God if
I left him. And then the National Liberals were no politicians in the
autumn of 1877. Bamberger has recently declared, in an elegiac tone,
that they were justified in expecting consideration, or even gratitude,
from me. As if they had co-operated with me for sentimental reasons,
and not because of their Nationalist principles! I am represented as
having disowned them, while it was they who turned from me because I
could not be as liberal as they were. If their leaders had been real
politicians, they might have secured a great deal from me then, and
more still in the course of time. But the maintenance of the party
was of greater importance to them than the prospect of practical
benefit. When Bennigsen returned from Varzin they said: ‘He cannot
work _with_ this Minister, but _after_ him.’ It would be well if the
fifteen or eighteen members of the party, who by rights belong to the
Progressists, were to withdraw--but they remain. And now I am attacked
by their newspapers, the _Kölnische_, the _National Zeitung_, the
_Hannoverscher Courier_, quite in the style of the Progressist press. I
am opposed in the Reichstag on all questions--obviously to prove that I
require the support of these gentlemen--in connection with the tobacco
monopoly, the tobacco tax as I intended it, and the Anti-Socialist
laws.”
I remarked that doubtless this was also, to some extent, due to their
juridical turn of mind and their idea of a legal state, which, in
reality, would be nothing but a state of lawyers and County Court
judges, where they would rule and arrange everything according to their
own theories--a state which would have no more claim to exist than a
theologians’ or traders’ state.
“Yes,” he replied, “that is true; but the chief cause is their
enmity to me. And how ungrateful they were to the King about the
Anti-Socialist laws! The old man who had boldly risked his crown for
Prussia and Germany in 1866 and 1870 struck down by the hand of an
assassin--and even in 1864, when a coalition of the Powers on behalf of
Denmark (Schleswig-Holstein affair) was by no means impossible, they
did not wish to protect him because _I_ proposed it.”
The conversation then turned on the condition of the Emperor. The
Prince observed: “He has lost in energy and intellectual power, and has
thus become more open to improper influences.”
I inquired about the Successor, and how the Chancellor now stood with
him.
“Well,” he said, “quite well. He is more human, so to speak, more
upright and modest--his character resembling that of his grandfather
and of Frederick William I. He does not say: ‘I have won the battle,
I have conducted the campaign,’ but ‘I know that I am not capable of
doing it; the Chief of my General Staff has done it, and he therefore
deserves his rewards.’ The Most Gracious thinks quite differently. He
also cannot tell exactly an untruth, but he will have it that he has
done everything himself; he likes to be in the foreground; he loves
posing and the appearance of authority. The Crown Princess also is
unaffected and sincere, which her mother-in-law is not. It is only
family considerations that make her troublesome, formerly more than at
present.”
“The uncle in Hanover?” I suggested.
“No, not so much as the Coburger and the Augustenburger; but she is
honourable, and has no great pretensions.”
On leaving I said: “If your Serene Highness should want me at any time,
and should require anything in which I could be useful, I would beg to
be remembered.”
He replied: “Well, what I said to you just now about the Free-traders,
the National Liberals and Delbrück was intended in that way. Make it
public, and I should be glad if you would send me a copy.”
I accordingly wrote an article “On the Genesis of the Imperial
Chancellor’s Customs Reform,” which was intended to appear in No. 10 of
the _Grenzboten_, and sent him a proof for revision on the 28th. It was
returned to me in three hours. The Chief had struck out nothing except
the following. After the words “when Delbrück retired at this time,
owing to the condition of his health,” he crossed out the passage:
“and none of his fellow-workers in the department of political economy
was capable of replacing him;” as also the word “absolutely” in the
phrase: “The Chancellor was absolutely compelled to prepare himself by
a thorough study of the facts to take the matter into his own hands.”
It would therefore appear that I had actually retained what he had
communicated to me, nearly as well as the bitter remarks he had let
fall at Versailles.
In the meantime I had a further interview with the Chief. On the
forenoon of the 27th of February I received a letter from his
Secretary, Sachse, saying that the Prince requested me to call upon
him, if possible, some time before 5 o’clock. At 3 P.M. I
went to his palace. After waiting in the antechamber for a quarter of
an hour, a slight, thin elderly gentleman came out, being accompanied
by the Prince as far as the antechamber. This was Lord Dufferin, the
English Ambassador at St. Petersburg. I then went with the Prince into
his study, where we sat down facing each other across his writing-table
as usual.
“You recently told me,” he began, “that when I had anything to say you
could get it into the _Grenzboten_.” I replied: “Certainly, Serene
Highness; it shall be done without delay.”
“Well, then, I would beg of you to write something on the policy which
Gortschakoff is promoting in the Russian press, and particularly in the
_Golos_, and to draw a comparison between what we have done for the
Russians and what they have done for us. It must, however, be written
with tact, in a diplomatic way.”
“I will try to do so,” I replied. “I am acquainted with the articles in
the _Golos_ through the German _Petersburger Zeitung_. It shall be done
at once, as was the article on the subject of our last conversation.
With your permission, I will send you a proof of it to-morrow, in case
you should wish to add or strike out anything.”
“Please do so,” he said. “And now as to Gortschakoff. You know how
the _Golos_ incessantly attacks our policy and me personally, asserts
that we were ungrateful at the Berlin Congress, and recommends joint
action with France. That is the work of Gortschakoff and Jomini, and
this fact must be got into our press. Gortschakoff must be shown what
we have owed or have not owed to Russia during the past fifty or sixty
years, and what we have done for her in this period. Russia helped us
in 1813, but in her own interest. In 1815, the Russian’s policy was
in a general way a good one, but at the same time it injured us by
frustrating any organisation of Germany which might not have fitted
in with the Emperor Alexander’s plans for rearranging the world; our
demand for compensation also received but very lukewarm support from
the Russians. Finally, their gains were greater than ours, although we
had risked and achieved more, and made greater sacrifices than they had
done. You know that in 1828 we did them good service during the Turkish
war by Muffling’s mission for example, which helped them out of a great
embarrassment. In 1830, they wanted to attack us in co-operation with
France, for whom we were anxious to secure the left bank of the Rhine.
The execution of this plan was only prevented by the outbreak of the
July Revolution. Shortly before the February Revolution a similar plan
was being developed. In 1847 we suppressed the rising in Posen in the
interest of Russia. During the first war with Denmark they ran counter
to us. Of course, you know what took place at Warsaw, in 1850, when
the Union was under consideration. We have in great part to thank the
Emperor Nicholas for our pilgrimage to Olmütz. During the Crimean
war in 1854, we, who had been badly treated shortly before, remained
neutral, while Austria, who had been well treated, joined the Western
Powers; and in 1863, when the insurrection broke out in Poland, and was
supported by Austria and the Western Powers in their Notes, we took the
part of Russia, and the diplomatic intervention failed.--It should only
be a short balance sheet, giving the debit and credit sides--you will
have to read the subject up.--In 1866 and 1870 Russia did not attack
us--on the contrary. But that, after all, was in Russia’s interest too.
In 1866, Prussia was an instrument for venting the anger of Russia upon
Austria; and in 1870 also it was only sound policy on her part to side
with us, as it was undesirable for the Russians that Austria should
join against us, and that a victorious Franco-Austrian force should
approach the frontiers of Poland, it being a traditional policy in
Paris to support Poland at the expense of Russia, a policy which was
also followed in Vienna, at least of recent years. And then, if we had
reason to be thankful to them, we returned the compliment in London in
1870. We secured for them the freedom of the Black Sea. But for us they
would not have obtained it from England and France.”
After a short pause he continued, while I, with one of his big pencils,
noted down what he said: “Gortschakoff is not carrying on a Russian
policy, which takes us into account as friends, but a personal policy.
He always wants to cut a figure, and to be praised by the foreign
press, and in particular by the Parisian newspapers. He sympathises
with France, which cannot be said of the Emperor. He would like to
posture as the friend and supporter of that country. The Dreikaiserbund
only satisfied him for a short time. As far back as 1874 the threads
of the Gortschakoff-Jomini policy are to be found in the foreign
press--oglings and advances towards an intimacy between Russia and
France of ‘la revanche.’ The rejection of these addresses is due
rather to France than to Russia. This policy does not appear to have
originated with the Emperor Alexander. It culminated in the period
1875-77, when the rumour was circulated that Gortschakoff had saved
France from us, and when he began one of his circular despatches with
the words: ‘Maintenant la paix est assurée.’ You remember Blowitz’s
report in _The Times_. Read it again, and mention the matter. His
account was correct, except where he spoke of an anti-French military
party in Prussia. No such party existed. The same policy, which must
be distinguished from that of the Emperor, is now being carried on in
the _Golos_, which was formerly Gortschakoff’s official organ. Whether,
in spite of all signs of disfavour this is not still the case, and
whether Jomini does not still inspire it, is doubtful. At any rate it
is Gortschakoff’s policy which it represents. People are now talking of
his retirement, and that Lobanoff, the Ambassador at Constantinople, is
selected to be his successor. Those who are well informed, however, do
not believe this, nor do they think he will retire from office as long
as he lives.”
I said: “Lobánoff? How are these Russian names really pronounced?
Górtschakoff and Lobánoff?”
“He is called, Górtschakoff, but otherwise the position of the accent
is quite uncertain--sometimes before, sometimes after, and sometimes
on the middle syllable. He is now old, feeble, and decrepit; yet,
notwithstanding his failing powers, the anti-German publications are
placed to his credit--and not without reason. They also account in part
for his popularity in Russia--and his vanity has not decreased. After
1874 it seemed as if his thirst for fame would give him no peace. At
the time of the Reichstadt Convention he is understood to have said:
‘Je ne veux pas filer comme une lampe qui s’éteint; il faut que je me
couche comme un astre.’”
I had not rightly understood him, and asked: “How did you say that,
Serene Highness?”
He then repeated the French phrase more slowly, and said afterwards:
“Please show it to me. You will have written it correctly, I suppose?”
I handed him the paper, and he observed: “The ‘e’ is missing in
‘comme,’ and the accent in ‘éteint.’” He then continued: “You might
bring in, at the same time, that he has really been stupid as a
politician. He has only acted for himself during the last four
years--that was in the preparations for the Turkish war, and no one
can say that he displayed any particular skill in bringing it about.
The relations with Austria--or, indeed, even with Rumania--were not
skilfully managed. What did he do during the six months which he spent
at Bucharest? The old fop was more occupied with the fair sex than
with business. The relations with Austria and Germany were also not
properly cleared up, although it ought to have been his chief task to
assure himself definitely of the position of Austria towards the aims
of Russia.” In the further course of conversation, Schuvaloff’s name
came up, and I said he was regarded by many persons as Gortschakoff’s
successor. The Chancellor replied: “Schuvaloff is a clever man, but
he has no chance. There is too much Court intrigue against him, and
the Emperor Alexander will not have about him a man of real weight.
Otherwise Schuvaloff would be excellent from the point of view of
peace.”
The interview had lasted over half an hour. The Prince went out for
a drive immediately after--probably to return Lord Dufferin’s visit.
I went to the Foreign Office, where Bucher enabled me to take a copy
of the documents, and of Blowitz’s article in _The Times_. Three days
later the article desired by the Chief, to which I gave the title,
“The Gortschakoff Policy,” was ready. On the 6th of March I sent a
proof of it to the Prince, and was pleased to find that he only struck
out some seventeen lines from the nine pages of which it consisted.
It then appeared in No. 11 of the _Grenzboten_, and extracts were
reproduced in the entire European press. It gave rise to a particularly
lively controversy in the English and Russian newspapers, and some of
them discussed it in long leading articles as an event of the first
magnitude; so that it may be assumed that the object the Chief had in
view was satisfactorily attained.
After the first volume of the fifth edition of _Count Bismarck and
His People_ had been printed, Captain Derosne’s French translation
appeared in May, 1879. The translator made some additions to the
passages respecting Madame Jesse, which began with the words: “We are
in a position to add to Dr. Busch’s diary some particulars which were
noted down at the time by Madame Jesse, who owned the house occupied
by M. de Bismarck and his suite from the 6th of October, 1870, to the
5th of March, 1871.” I showed these to the Prince, who, after reading
them over, declared them to be mostly fables, and very poor fables. He
observed, in conclusion:--
“And as to this clock: ‘Je ne veux pas--je ne cède pas.’ On the
contrary, she let me know that if I would give her 5,000 francs in
compensation for the damage done to her house and property, she would
let me have the clock.”
I now informed him that the book had been translated by Derosne, a
captain attached to the general staff in Paris; that, on the whole,
his version read very well; and that, from his letters, the translator
appeared to be an ardent Bonapartist, who placed the Republic on a
level with cholera and the plague. I then mentioned, as I had already
informed him by letter, that Derosne also proposed to translate
_Letters to Malwine_, and that I had promised him an introduction and
explanatory notes, in case he (the Chief) gave his permission. He said:
“Yes, with pleasure.” I replied: “I had hoped as much; as it is evident
that, although the French do not love your Serene Highness, they take
an interest in you, and, indeed, a deep interest. The translation,
which was published on the 8th instant, was sold out in five or six
days, although the edition consisted of 3,000 copies; and an advance
collection of quotations from it (of which 10,000 copies are said
to have been issued) is also understood to have been very speedily
disposed of. Dentu is now printing the book itself. Six translations
have already been published--in England and America, as well as in the
Dutch and Russian languages. There has also been some talk of a Swedish
translation. The Dutch sounds very queer in some parts.”
“I can easily believe that,” he said. “Have you ever read a Dutch play?”
“No,” I replied, “but I have seen some passages from the Dutch Bible.”
“It sounds very strange to our ears; but,” he added, “one must not tell
them so, as they would feel greatly offended.”
He then said: “But tell me what you think of the last debates in the
Reichstag, and the position of the Customs Reform.”
I replied: “Well, I think one may congratulate you on the commencement
of victory in the matter. The manner in which you disposed of Delbrück,
in the debate on the corn tariff was simply delightful. Why, that was a
refutation, point by point.”
“Yes,” he replied, smiling, “but we cannot yet say how things will
go at the third reading. If it is not passed, I shall make a Cabinet
question of it; and, as the King will not let me go, we shall dissolve.
They, however, would seem inclined to procrastinate; and, in that case,
I am not yet certain whether we ought to dissolve. Another year can,
perhaps, do no harm, and the elections may in the meantime turn out
better. The Ultramontanes, with whom it is altogether impossible to
come to any permanent understanding, will hardly support the revenue
taxes. Then we must have a dissolution, as we regard the reform as a
whole, from which no part can be dissevered.”
I asked if I might say that in the press. He said: “I think not.
Emphasise in detail the position of the Eighty-eight (the Opposition)
in their private and business capacities, to the iron tariff. How
most of these gentlemen--lawyers, journalists, holders of funded
property--are people who live upon fees, salaries, pensions, dividends;
and, having no immediate connection with agriculture, are not
personally affected, and have no experience, yet have most to say in
the matter.”
“Who neither sow, nor reap, nor spin, as you said to Lasker,” I
observed, “and who are nevertheless fed and clad. Of course, you did
not refer to them alone, but to the whole class.”
“Certainly,” he replied. “Write that, and hunt up the necessary
personal information. That may prove useful as a means of clearing up
the situation for the elections. It must be shown that the majority of
our legislators are the people who have nothing to do with practical
affairs, and have no eye, no ear, no sympathy for the interests which
the Government, in this case, defends. Learned men, particularly the
leaders and principal speakers. Men of theory, who have no proper
feeling for realities, and who have acquired their knowledge, not from
experience, but from books, must no longer have the sole power and
chief influence in the Legislature.”
He then made a move, as though the interview were at an end. I rose,
and he gave me his hand, and then asked: “How are things in general
going with you? You look rather poorly!”
I replied: “Much obliged to your Serene Highness, but thank God I have
nothing to complain of. There is only one thing I want, viz., that you
should make more use of my willingness to serve you. The article on
Gortschakoff, for example, did its work in the press fairly well.” “I
know that,” he said, “but I have so much to do just now. Even as it is
I want five or six more hours in the day to get through my work,” “And
how is your Serene Highness’s health?” “Not good. It was better, but
the overwork and worry! I must shortly get out of harness again.”
I then went across to Bucher to get materials for the article which
the Chief desired me to write. On this occasion, Bucher told me that
“the stout fellow” (von Bülow, the Secretary of State) proposed to the
Prince that “Press-Hahn” should be taken into the Foreign Office as
First Councillor. Bucher added: “Bülow, who is a Mecklenburger, has no
thorough knowledge of Prussian affairs, and so Hahn would assist him.
The Chief also wished it, but Hahn had been gossiping, and so it got
into the newspapers. This was reported to the Chief, who then said: ‘A
man who cannot keep his own counsel cannot be employed by me here,’ and
so the appointment was not made. Bülow, however, declares that it has
only been postponed.”
On my calling upon Bucher again in the afternoon, he said: “I would
beg one favour of you. There has been talk of somebody being again
appointed here in connection with the press. I was to take over the
work in the meantime, as he wrote me from Friedrichsruh. I said to
Bülow, however, that that would not do, as it would first be necessary
for me to arrange for the necessary information, and prepare the files,
and that that would take some weeks. Probably Bülow has thereupon
simply written to the Chief that I declined. Now, I would request
you, when you are next called to the Prince, to take an opportunity
of mentioning that you got part of the material for your last article
from me, and that I have also been of assistance to you occasionally in
other ways.” I promised to do this.
The article which the Chief had ordered appeared in No. 22 of the
_Grenzboten_, under the title of “Some Characteristics of the Minority
in the Question of Tariff Reform.”
During the next few months I was actively engaged in the _Grenzboten_
in supporting the Chief’s policy and attacking his Free Trade and
Progressist opponents. I almost always took counsel with Bucher, who
sometimes suggested the articles, and between us the Prince’s opponents
came to hear many a bitter truth.
On the 9th of June I met von Thile at the corner of the
Flottwellstrasse and Lutzowstrasse. He stopped as he returned my
greeting, and we dropped into conversation, in the course of which I
also mentioned his retirement, and pointed to Keudell as the immediate
cause of it. “He wished to be Secretary of State,” I said, “and then
Minister.” “Your Excellency knows better than I do how incapable he was
of filling such a post. He had an excellent eye for his own advantage,
but he had no political ability.”
“He was a maid of all work,” replied Thile, who then related to me the
story of his resignation. “I sent a request to the Minister to let me
know whether I should tender my resignation to him, which was the usual
course, or to the Emperor. Keudell took this message to him. He then
came to tell me, under instructions from the Minister, that I should
apply to the Emperor in order to spare him, the Chief, the sight of my
hateful countenance. The story then got abroad, and Bancroft repeated
it to me, adding that it was ‘a message which no gentleman would have
carried to another gentleman,’--and you know what a high regard he has
for the Minister otherwise.” In conclusion, I begged Thile to permit me
to call upon him at some future time. He said it would afford him great
pleasure, and he gave me his address, No. 3, Flottwellstrasse.
Next day I sent him a copy of the French translation of the Bismarck
book, for which he thanked me in a very amiable letter. After careful
consideration, I postponed my visit for a time. It would not have
looked well had the Prince heard of it, as he is suspicious, and
certainly not without reason, even of his friends.
It was not until the 6th of October that I again saw the Prince, having
on the previous day received a letter from Sachse inviting me to call
upon him. When I entered the antechamber Philippsborn was with the
Chief. At six minutes past one he sent Theiss to call me in to him. I
remained for about three-quarters of an hour. He was in plain clothes
and in evident good humour. On reaching me his hand he said: “Well,
doctor, how are you? How are the patients getting on?”
I: “The patients? Whom do you mean, Serene Highness?”
He: “Why, the newspapers.”
I: “They are as ill as ever, or I should rather say, as stupid.”