CHAPTER X.
[BERLIN].
The streets of Berlin, though, bright with sunshine, looked empty at eight o'clock on the morning of the 15th of June, 1866. Life in that city does not begin so early; and at this hour only a few of the lower orders hurried along under the lime trees, with here and there an employé or a merchant hastening to his office.
A troubled expression appeared on the face of every passer-by; acquaintances stopped and exchanged greetings and the news of the day, but the news was of an unpleasant and evil nature; the Austrian ambassador was recalled, and war was inevitable,--a war which no one desired, and which was entirely ascribed to the ambition of the minister, who, in order to retain office, was about to set Germany, nay Europe, on fire.
So thought and spoke the good people of Berlin, for they were accustomed to think and speak in the morning as Aunt Voss and Uncle Spener had caused them to read the day before; and these two long-established and highly privileged organs of public opinion daily maintained, in articles whole columns in length, that the disturbance in Germany was entirely owing to the restless ambition and criminal rashness of this Herr von Bismarck; and all the Müllers, all the Schultzes, all the Lehmanns, and all the Neumanns who had been brought up in the royal capital, firmly believed that nothing was needed to preserve the absolute peace of Europe under the parliamentary government, than that Herr von Bismarck should be sent about his business, either to Schönhausen, or to Kniephof, to cultivate his March Ukrain turnips, or his Pomeranian cabbages.
But when some of the Landwehr marched past on their way to the railway stations from whence they were to be sent off to join the different army corps, a very discontented expression was seen on the faces of the Berlin children, both old and young, as they stood about in knots at the side of the streets and roundly abused that "junker Bismarck," who brought such misery on families, and cost the country so much money. This did not hinder the kind-hearted inhabitants of Berlin from bestowing on "the sacrifice to Bismarck's policy," the "Blue Laddies" of the Landwehr Guards, who were being sent to this horrid fraternal war, many abundant tokens of their affection, in the shape of beer, cigars, sausages, and spirits. And "the sacrifice" itself appeared by no means discontented; for from its ranks resounded those merry old Prussian soldier songs, which are handed down unwritten from generation to generation, and transplanted from the bivouac to the home, where the boys learn them when they play at soldiers, and sing them later on in the bivouacs of the manœ uvres, or of the first war to which their king and country send them.
In the evening, all the Schultzes, Müllers, Lehmanns, and Neumanns went to their hereditary beer-shops, and sat round the table listening to the news from the mouth of the oracle of their different circles; and they heard how that very day a journalist had written, or a deputy had spoken, inculcating the great lesson that all the uneasiness, all the stagnation of trade, all the troubles of private families, were caused by one man, who sacrificed the happiness of the subject to his own mad notions and ambition; one man, who placed the crown and the country in danger, Herr von Bismarck, the aristocratic despot!
No wonder then that all the people who were hurrying along in the early morning looked on the world with dismal eyes, nor that when acquaintances met and discussed the news, a curse, not loud but deep, should be bestowed on that Bismarck who plunged the whole world, which would have been so happy without him, into grief and woe.
Through the hurrying, busy people, and through the discontented groups walked Bismarck himself, under the lime-trees, from the Wilhelmsstrasse. He looked as calm and well satisfied in his white cuirassier's uniform, with its pale yellow collar, plain stool helmet, and major's epaulets, as if he were at the highest point of popularity. No one greeted him, but he did not care, and he walked on with a quick step, and military bearing; he reached the corner where Friedrichsstrasse is divided by the lime-trees, opposite Kranzler's, the well-known confectioner; there he went to a newspaper shop and bought a morning number of Aunt Voss's newspaper, a few inquisitive folks silently watching him with no friendly looks meanwhile, for every one knew the head of the ministry.
He pursued his way, hastily skimming the newspaper, until he came to the king's plain-looking square palace, opposite the colossal statue of Frederick the Great, over which the royal standard, with its purple ground and black eagles, waved in the morning wind.
The guard presented arms, and Bismarck entered the palace, and turned to the left, on the raised ground floor, towards the king's apartments. Here he found the equerry on duty. Major the Baron von Loën greeted him, and began a conversation on indifferent subjects, until the hour of audience arrived, which the king always observed with the most conscientious punctuality.
In his large, simply-furnished work and reception room stood King William himself, with his grey hair and youthful, powerfully built figure. He had placed himself near the further window, from whence he could look down on the Platz below, as he frequently did during an audience, or while hearing a report, and through which the Berlin public often saw him during the morning hours.
King William wore the black overcoat and white buttons of the first regiment of foot guards; his fresh-coloured face with its strongly marked, benevolent features, surrounded with white hair, and a carefully kept white beard, was grave, almost melancholy, as he listened to a man, who spoke to him upon the contents of various papers in a large black portfolio.
This man, who was a head shorter than the king, was dressed in plain black, with a white neck-handkerchief. His hair, which was quite white, was brushed smoothly down on each side of his head, his face had a very animated expression, and his keen, candid eyes, sparkling with good humour and youthful fire, were fixed on the king.
It was the Privy Councillor Schneider, who was as well known as a dramatic author, manager, and actor, as he was as a military writer; he had been reader to Frederick William IV., and to William I., and for many years a faithful servant to the royal family.
"You have spoken with the king?" asked the monarch.
"I have, your majesty," replied Schneider; "on my journey home from Düsseldorf, where I had been to obtain some information for my historical work, I was obliged to stop in Hanover, and as his majesty King George has always shown me the most gracious marks of his favour, as your majesty is aware, and as I feel for him the greatest sympathy and respect, I drove to Herrenhausen, had myself announced, and requested an audience. The king received me in his own apartments, and his breakfast being just served, he graciously invited me to breakfast with him. His majesty was most kind, and I experienced afresh the truly magic charm of his manner."
"Yes," said King William, "my cousin George is of an amiable and noble nature. I often wish we had remained nearer together. It would have been better for Germany. He, alas! always feels enmity to Prussia."
"I cannot understand it," said Schneider; "personal aversion cannot possibly be the cause, for I assure your majesty, the king delights in recollections of his youth at Berlin, he feels a deep and filial veneration for his late majesty Frederick William III., and he drew from his wonderful memory numerous little traits and anecdotes of old times, of Count Neale, and old Princess Wittgenstein----"
"For whom we princes felt such immense respect," said the king laughing.
"And," continued Schneider, "I could see what pleasure the king felt in these reminiscences, and how much he was interested by my own recollections of the same times."
"And did you speak of the present political position?" asked the king.
"The conversation could not fail to touch upon that," said Schneider. "I took the liberty of expressing my hopes that the king, from his friendly remembrance of the Berlin court, would take your majesty's side in the present sharp conflict, and that the old bond which united Hanover and Prussia in the past, might be strengthened afresh."
"And what was his majesty's reply?" asked King William anxiously.
"The king spoke most candidly and openly," replied Schneider, "displaying the chivalrous character I have always admired, when I have had the honour of any intercourse with him. He assured me he had not the smallest animosity against Prussia, though he is so often accused of it; that he considered a German war would be the greatest of misfortunes, and that from the laws of the Confederation, he should consider it an impossibility, until it actually commenced. In such wickedness and misery he would never take part."
"Why then did he not conclude a treaty of neutrality?" asked the king.
"But his Hanoverian majesty believes himself to be completely neutral," replied Schneider.
"Then I cannot understand it!" exclaimed King William; "Count Platen always denied the conclusion which I so greatly desired."
"I know nothing, your majesty, of what Count Platen did, or did not do; but of this I am certain, King George believes himself to be maintaining the most complete neutrality."
"You do not believe he has concluded a treaty with Austria?" asked the king.
"No, your majesty, I do not believe it, for the king said in the most decided way, he would take no part whatever in this unholy war. Nevertheless----"
"Nevertheless?" asked the king.
"Nevertheless his majesty said in the most clear and straightforward manner," added Schneider, "that the Prussian endeavour to alter the German Confederation of States into one Confederated State would never obtain his consent, and that he should oppose with all his power any such attempted reform of the Confederation, and should defend his own sovereignty and the complete independence of his crown."
King William shook his head.
"I ventured to remark, that I was sure no one, your majesty least of all, thought of interfering with the sovereignty of any prince, but that a stronger military union was needful for Germany, and that the most powerful state must be the leader of this offensive and defensive alliance. I added that his majesty had been brought up as an English prince, but that the policy of a small state like Hanover, could not be conducted on the principles of a first-class power, with large fleets and armies at command."
"Did not his majesty take that amiss?" asked King William.
"Not at all," returned Schneider, "he heard me with the greatest kindness, and without interrupting me; he then said, without any heat, but with the greatest firmness, 'My dear Schneider, my royal rights do not depend on the extent of my territory. I hold my crown from God, just as much as the ruler of the largest kingdom, in the world, and never will I abate one tittle of my sovereign and absolute independence, be the consequence what it may!' I remarked to his majesty that it was not my business to interfere in any way with politics, but that the decided declaration he had just made was of such great importance at the present moment, that I felt it would be my duty as a true servant to my king to communicate it to your majesty on my return. King George fully agreed, and declared that his opinion on this subject was no secret, and that he was ready to act up to it. He then dismissed me in the most gracious and friendly manner."
"Then they are all against me!" cried King William after a moment's reflection, and with a very sorrowful expression.
He gazed from the window, and his eyes rested for some time on the statue of the Great Frederick.
"He too was alone!" he said softly, "and alone when greatest!"
His countenance became more cheerful, he glanced at his watch, then smiled at his privy councillor, and said:
"Now, my dear Schneider, puff!" He made a little movement with his mouth as if he were blowing something away and pointed to the door.
"I vanish, your majesty," cried Schneider, as with comic haste he rushed to the door; there he stood still for a moment and said, "I wish all your majesty's enemies could be as quickly dispersed by the breath of your mouth."
The king remained alone.
"I stand then on the brink of decision!" said the king thoughtfully, "and the fate of my house and of my kingdom lies at the point of the sword. Who would have thought that I, called to the throne in my old age, should yet have to undertake so great a war, and that I myself should lead the newly organized army, the work of long thought and zealous toil, which I believed I should bequeath to my son, as an instrument, as a security for future power and greatness,--that I myself should lead this army into the field, there to prove it on the same battle fields where my great ancestor inscribed his name in such glorious characters. And yet," he added with a dreamy look, "there often came upon me a dark foreboding. When I stood before the altar at Königsberg, there to be solemnly invested with the insignia of my royal office, as I took the sword of state a feeling seized me, sudden and unexpected, as a warning, or a promise from on high. I felt compelled to use the sword against the enemies of my kingdom, who in a distant assembly were conspiring against it, and from the depths of my heart a vow arose to God, never to draw the sword without dire necessity, but once drawn, to wield it in God's name, until the enemies of my people lay beneath my feet! That foreboding is fulfilled," he whispered, "and now let us go forward, and God be with us!"
The king folded his hands together and remained silent for a time, with his head bent down.
Then he walked rapidly to his long writing-table, cheerful energy and decision beaming from his face, and with a firm hand he rang his bell.
"The minister-president, Count Bismarck," he commanded, as the gentleman-in-waiting appeared.
A few moments afterwards Bismarck entered the cabinet.
His quick penetrating grey eyes were fixed for a moment on the king. Apparently he was satisfied with the expression upon his royal master's features, for he said joyfully, as he drew some papers from his uniform:
"Your majesty, the decision draws near! I hope the dismal fog will now clear up, and disclose Prussia's brilliant armies, and that they for the future will clear the road for us after all these blocks and stoppages."
"What do you bring?" asked the king quietly. Count Bismarck hastily turned over his papers. "Herr von Werther," he said, "announces his departure from Vienna. He also informs us that Benedek is with the army, and is dissatisfied with its condition."
"That I can well believe," said the king.
"Gablenz has also joined the army."
"I regret that this brave general is amongst our enemies!" remarked the king; "he has fought with us, and may be dangerous."
"No general alone can be dangerous to us, your majesty, material is wanting; besides they will not listen to his advice," said Bismarck confidently. "At the same time," he added, "the mobilization of the army of the Confederacy against Prussia was decreed in Frankfort yesterday. By this measure war is virtually declared, and your majesty must take immediate steps to forestall a danger which threatens our operations on our own territory. Hanover and Hesse must be rendered harmless."
"How was the measure taken in Frankfort?" asked the king; "have Hanover and Hesse declared for Austria?"
"They have not taken up the Austrian demands," replied the minister, "but they have consented to the mobilization. Always the same game of see-saw!" he added, "but it will be very dangerous to us if these states are not soon made unable to hurt us."
"They have not yet armed," said the king.
"After the decree of the Confederation they must arm; and besides, even on a peace foundation, their armies might annoy us extremely," remarked Count Bismarck. "I beg your majesty to proceed instantly with the greatest vigour, and to command a march into Hanover and Hesse without delay."
The king thought deeply.
"They refused to conclude the Treaty of Neutrality in Hanover and in Cassel when we offered it," he said. "Now that the mobilization is decreed, of course it is no longer the question. But they have always preferred half measures, which seems to prove they would never venture seriously and decidedly to declare against us. I will ask them once more the clear and positive question, and give them the opportunity of turning back on the dangerous road they are now taking."
"But, your majesty," exclaimed Count Bismarck, "time will be lost, and time is precious!"
"Put your mind at ease, dear count," returned the king, "no time shall be lost. The time of doubt and restlessness is past. The time for action has come, for us there is no longer deliberation or a choice!" Count Bismarck breathed freely again.
"But, pour l'acquit de ma conscience," said the king, "I will give one last and serious warning to my royal cousins, for God knows it will be hard to me to act against them. The ultimatum guaranteeing their possessions, and offering them an alliance on the foundation of our proposed reform of the Confederacy, is in the hands of the ambassadors?" he asked.
"At your majesty's command," replied the minister.
"Then give a telegraphic order immediately that the ultimatum is to be delivered, and that we will await an answer until this evening."
"The order shall go forthwith," said Count Bismarck, "but what if a refusal, or as is more probable, an evasive answer is returned?" he asked, with an anxious look at the king's face.
King William was silent for a moment, then he fixed his eyes with a look of firm resolution on his minister, and answered:
"Then the ambassadors shall declare war!"
"God save the king!" cried Count Bismarck, with a loud voice, and a look of the greatest satisfaction.
"Let the same be done in Dresden," said the king.
"In Dresden!" exclaimed Count Bismarck; "does your majesty believe that Herr von Beust----?"
"I have nothing to do with Herr von Beust," replied the king with dignity, "but I will once more offer King John my hand. If it be in vain, the guilt of what follows will not rest with me."
"But," said Count Bismarck, "may I beg your majesty immediately to command the military operations, which will be needful as soon as war has been declared."
"I will summon Moltke, and give the requisite orders," said the king.
"May I call your majesty's attention to one point?" asked Count Bismarck.
The king looked at him inquiringly.
"General von Manteuffel is coming with his troops from Holstein," said Count Bismarck; "he has permission from Hanover to march through to Minden. His advanced guard is before Harburg, and the vessels on the Elbe are placed at his disposal. Harburg is without a garrison, but it might easily be occupied from Stade, which has lately been strongly garrisoned. It appears to me highly important, at the commencement of hostilities, in case war is declared against Hanover, that we should have Harburg in our own hands, as under adverse circumstances much time might be lost there. I believe it would be very judicious if your majesty were immediately to order Manteuffel to occupy Harburg. He has a perfect right to do so, as he is permitted to be there on his march by the Hanoverian Government. If the ultimatum is accepted by Hanover, he marches quietly on; if it is rejected, he has an important point, and the railway in his hands."
The king listened attentively,--he laughed as he nodded his head.
"You are right!" said he; "what a good thing it is to have a soldier for one's minister. The orders shall be given."
"If your majesty will permit me, I will now go," said Count Bismarck, "that the measures you have commanded may be promptly carried out."
He moved away as if about to withdraw.
"What news have we from Paris?" asked the king.
Count Bismarck walked back into the room. His expression was rather gloomy.
"Benedetti is silent, your majesty, contrary to his usual custom; but Count Goltz informs us they urge action in Paris, and he is given to understand the emperor's inclination will cause him to side with Austria, if we do not soon take some decided step. I have reason to think," he added, "there is some separate treaty on foot about Venice, and at the last moment we may find they have played us some trick, so I have been informed by a reliable agent in Vienna; and Count Usedom declares he is dissatisfied with the Italians, and that he meets with a good deal that is of an equivocal nature. Nevertheless," continued the minister, "I am not much disquieted by all these intrigues, they will yield nothing in Vienna,--there they are still quite too much on the high horse. However, I have sent instructions to Florence, desiring them to be watchful and energetic, and to act in harmony with our military operations."
"But what does the Emperor Napoleon want?" asked the king.
"Always to fish in troubled waters," replied Count Bismarck, with the reckless candour peculiar to him; "but if he is now urging us to war, I don't think the fishing will be lucky for him. I have questioned Benedetti on the secret proceedings now going on between Paris and Vienna. He declares he has been informed of nothing; but at least he can let them know in Paris that here we are not deaf of both ears."
"I have never thoroughly liked this Italian alliance," said the king, "though I own its great usefulness. Oh! that it might have been otherwise, and that, as in my youth, conjointly with Austria we might have turned our arms in another direction."
The minister studied the king's face with anxious eyes.
"And if it had been otherwise," he cried, with animation, "your majesty would never have been able to free Prussia, our glorious, rising country, the creation of your great ancestor, from the chains with which the envy and malice of the great European powers fettered her, by the suggestion and guidance of Austria,--this Austria who never was German, who used Germany only as a footstool for her ambition in Europe, and who was always ready to sell, to betray, to divide it. No, your majesty, I rejoice that we are forced to act, and that at last the royal eagle may spread his wings freely in the air. 'Nec soli cedit' is his motto, and he will fly to the sun, though the way be through thunder-clouds. I see before me the great and brilliant future of Prussia and of Germany, and I am proud and happy that it has been granted to me to stand beside the king, who is the creator of this future."
King William's clear gaze rested thoughtfully on the excited, enthusiastic face of his minister. His own eyes had sparkled at the words of the bold statesman who stood before him confident of victory, but he raised his looks to heaven, and said quietly and simply--
"As God wills!"
Count Bismarck looked with emotion at his royal master as he stood before him in such simple greatness, and an expression of astonishment crossed his features, as the mighty sovereign, on the eve of a fearful war, which must have so great an influence on the future, laid aside all his hopes, all his ambition, all his misgivings, in these three simple words.
"Has your majesty any further commands?" he asked, in a voice which still showed traces of his former excitement.
"No," replied the king, "hasten to send off the despatches."
And with a friendly nod he dismissed the minister-president.
Count Bismarck left the king's cabinet and the palace, and walked back quicker than he had come, to his own house in Wilhelmsstrasse, and he heeded even less than before the angry looks cast at him as he walked along under the lime trees. His face expressed proud satisfaction, and his manner joyful confidence. The great war, which his feelings and his convictions showed him to be unavoidable and necessary, was to begin, and he believed in its happy termination with a firmness and security, which excluded all doubt and hesitation.
On the ground floor of the minister's hotel, to which he was hastening back on account of the many pressing affairs awaiting him, in a plain office-like room, before a table piled with papers, sat Herr von Keudell, the Minister of Legation. He was engaged in animated conversation with a man of about six or seven and thirty, with fair hair and moustache, whose open features of the North German type possessed great mobility of expression, and whose clear grey eyes shone with good nature, humour, and talent. This man, who was dressed with the peculiar elegance only met with in large cities, sat leaning back in a great arm-chair, which was placed near Herr von Keudell's writing table. His manner was a mixture of the bourgeois and the dandy, and he balanced his glossy hat on his knee, whilst with his hand he prevented it from falling.
"You believe then, dear Beckmann," said Herr von Keudell, "it will be possible to keep the Paris press in our favour during the war, and eventually to prevent the voice of public opinion in France from declaring for Austria?"
"Nothing easier," replied Herr Albert Beckmann, the clever and witty editor of the newspaper the "Temps," who for the last twenty years had lived in the journalist circles of Paris, and had acquired a perfect knowledge of all the tastes and manners of the inhabitants of the great capital of the world, without ever losing the peculiarities of his German origin. "Nothing easier. Neffzer is devoted to you; he will write you up from true conviction, otherwise we could not get him to do it. The 'Siècle' is for you,--all liberal papers look on Prussia as progress, on Austria as reaction, and they will greet any Prussian success with joy,--they would all condemn an alliance of France with Austria as the height of folly. To obtain the voices of these papers in your favour is quite unnecessary; it will only be needful to give them the right direction, by sending them all news, diplomatic and military, quickly, and well arranged. With regard to that--je m'en charge!"
And he stroked his hand over the nap of his hat, twirled his small light moustache, and leant back in his chair with a satisfied air.
"But the clerical papers, 'Le Monde,' 'L'Univers?'" asked Keudell.
"Ah! c'est plus difficile!" replied Herr Beckmann, "these gentlemen are very Austrian, and hard to manage. In the 'Monde' the German correspondent is a cousin of mine, Doctor Onno Klopp."
"Onno Klopp is your cousin?" asked Herr von Keudell.
"Il a cet avantage," said Beckmann; "and he writes under the name of Hermann Schultze, but I must say he is very wearisome, and as he cannot write in French all his articles have to be translated, which makes them still more unpalatable to the public. Fortunately, it is enough for these papers to take one side, to make all Paris take the other."
"But have they not great influence at court?"
"Pas du tout, not the smallest," replied Herr Beckmann, confidently; "the emperor only attends to the independent papers, and never cares what the ultramontane journals say. I can assure you one article in the 'Temps' or the 'Siècle' would have more influence on him than a whole campaign in the 'Monde' or 'L'Univers.'"
"Do you not believe," suggested Keudell, "that the Austrian policy will also work upon the press, and that they will do all they can to turn public opinion in France in favour of Austria? They will not scruple as to means. Prince Metternich----"
"Ah! bah!" cried Beckmann. "Prince Metternich will do nothing; he is trop grand seigneur to work on the press. He has the Chevalier Debraux de Saldapenha at his side, who will write him an article in his Mémorial Diplomatique, very fine, very diplomatic, very elevated, and which no one will read. Enfin," he added, "true public opinion will be for you. Ollivier too--Emile Ollivier, the Roman citizen, with a longing in his heart for the portfolio," he said, with a laugh, "is quite Prussian, and will do more with his conversation than any newspaper."
"You think the portfolio has charms for Emile Ollivier?" asked Keudell, with surprise.
"He will be minister one day," replied Herr Beckmann, confidently, "on fera cette bêtise. For the present he is the man of the opposition, and his voice is powerful. He is out and out the partizan of Prussian supremacy in Germany; that suffices. There are still," he continued, "the 'Revues hebdomadaires;' they have as much influence as the daily papers, as they are read quietly and digested. But we are fortunate in occupying the territory beforehand. I know all the editors, and I think I can easily work upon them in your favour. You remember how favourably my pamphlet, 'Le Traité de Gastein,' was received? I wrote it after I had had the honour of talking to the minister-president at Wiesbaden."
"Certainly," said Keudell. "I was surprised at the support we received from the French press; and we are still thankful to you for it."
"Pas de quoi," said Herr Beckmann, "I acted from conviction. I wished Count Bismarck's ideas on a newly-constituted Germany to have a favourable hearing in France, and I will still work for the same cause, because I consider his plans just and right. Apropos, did you know that Hansen is here?"
"Ah!" exclaimed Herr von Keudell.
"I bet he will stay some time," said Beckmann, with a quick side glance, "to watch the situation. You can work through him. What you impart to him will go to the right place, and will reach the press."
Keudell slightly bowed his head.
"Now," said Beckmann, "I think I had better go back as fast as I can to Paris, and open the campaign."
He rose. A servant entered.
"His excellency awaits the Minister of Legation."
"I come," said Keudell. He gave Beckmann his hand, and said: "Let us soon hear of your diligence. You will pass through Hanover just in time to see the general flight."
"I am sorry Hanover is against you," said Beckmann. "It is my own country, and though I left it so long ago, I have a natural and deep regard for it. However, it will be all right when the great conflict is once over; now Fate must have her way."
And he took leave of Herr von Keudell, who forthwith mounted the broad staircase which led to the minister's rooms.