SOME DIPLOMATIC FENCING
At that time the Russian Minister of Foreign Affairs was Prince Lobanoff, formerly ambassador at Vienna, well known for his pro-French proclivities. During the summer of 1895 he had visited France and been very cordially entertained. During the autumn, just as I was staying for the hunting at Hubertusstock on the Schorfheide near Eberswalde, Prince Lobanoff, on his return journey from Paris, requested to be received in audience, at the behest of the Tsar. Upon being received by me he described the calm and sensible frame of mind which he had found in Paris and sought to quiet me, too, with regard to the above-mentioned troop movements, which, according to him, were mere empty rumor and chatter without any real basis. He added that he was bringing to me the most quieting assurances, that there was no reason for my feeling the slightest alarm. I thanked him heartily for his report, remarking that the word "alarm" was not to be found in the dictionary of a German officer; and I added that, if France and Russia wished to make war, I could not prevent it.
Whereupon the Prince, piously casting up his eyes toward heaven, made the sign of the cross and said: "Oh, la guerre! quelle idée; qui y pense?—cela ne doit pas être" ("Oh, war! what an idea; who thinks of such a thing? it must not be"). To that I replied that I, in any event, was not thinking about it, but that an observer—and he need not be very keen eyed—must assuredly consider the constant celebrations and speeches, as well as the official and unofficial visits exchanged between Paris and St. Petersburg, as significant symptoms which could not be ignored, and which were calculated to arouse great dissatisfaction in Germany; that, should it come to war, against my own will and that of my people, I felt that, trusting in God and in my army and people, it would be possible for Germany to get the better of both opponents.
To this I added still another statement, reported to me from Paris, which had been made by a Russian officer who was in France as a member of an officers' deputation. Having been asked by a French comrade whether the Russians believed that they could beat the Germans, the gallant Slav replied: "Non, mon ami, nous serons battus à plate couture, mais qu'est-ce que ça fait? Nous aurons la République" ("No, my friend, we shall be thoroughly beaten, but what does that matter? We shall get a republic").
At first the Prince eyed me, speechless, then, shrugging his shoulders, he remarked: "Oh, la guerre, il ne faut pas même y penser" ("Oh, war, one must not even think about it"). The officer had merely expressed the general opinion of the Russian intelligentsia and social circles. As far back as my first visit to St. Petersburg, in the early 'eighties, a grand duchess said to me at dinner, quite calmly: "Here we sit all the time on a volcano. We expect the revolution any day! The Slavs are not faithful, they are not at all monarchical, all of them are republicans at heart; they disguise their sentiments, and they lie, every one of them, all the time."
Three important events, related to foreign politics, came within the period of Prince Hohenlohe's incumbency of the Chancellorship: the opening, in 1895, of the Emperor William Canal (North Sea-Baltic Canal), begun under Emperor William the Great, to which squadrons or individual ships representing countries all over the world were invited; the annexation, in 1897, of Tsing-tao; and, third, the much-discussed Kruger dispatch.