Specimens of the New (Berlin) Series of Papers.
... No. 31.—Letter from Prince William to the Imperial Chancellor, dated Berlin, April 2nd, 1888:—
“Albedyll has been to see me and talked over the whole Battenberg affair (die ganze Battenbergerei) once more. On this occasion a letter was also mentioned, which the Empress is understood to have received yesterday, in which the Battenberger informs her that he would only marry with my consent—a point deserving mention. In this connection Albedyll was of opinion that a positive acknowledgment, repeating this phrase, should be demanded from the Battenberger in order to have a more certain hold over him. Would your Serene Highness approve of my sending a cipher telegram ordering Henry to go to him and demand from him for me a note containing the above declaration? If that were in my hands, and the Battenberger were nevertheless to take any steps or to enter into any intrigues, we could prove by documentary evidence that he had been guilty of a direct breach of his word.
“Awaiting your Serene Highness’s kind decision, and hoping that you enjoyed your birthday celebration, I remain always,
“Your faithful and devoted,
“William,
“Crown Prince.”
No. 33.—The Grand Duke of Baden to the Imperial Chancellor:—
“Serene Highness,—I hasten to let you know in this inadequate form that I had occasion to-day to speak to the Emperor Frederick alone. In the manner arranged yesterday I explained to him how I came to know your sentiments and state of health. My explanation greatly impressed the Emperor, and I took advantage of this to proceed to the general situation of political affairs in Europe, and—referring to the firmly established position of Germany during the reign of the Emperor William, as compared to the troubles and confusion in the rest of the world—emphasised the necessity for us and for Europe of perseverance in the course adopted.
“The Emperor manifested a friendly disposition, and warmly approved of my statement. He is anxiously expecting your visit. His features wore an expression of deep seriousness when I said to him: ‘You cannot possibly govern without Prince Bismarck.’
“This, in bare outline, is the result of my weak endeavours.
“Your cordially devoted,
“Friedrich Gr. v. Baden.
“Charlottenburg, March 31st, 1888.”
A few days after our last interview, the Chief left for Friedrichsruh. On the 11th of April I wrote him (respecting my proposed stay there). I received no answer for a week. The newspapers, however, published a report that the Prince had selected as his private secretary a Dr. Chrysander, who had hitherto been Professor Schweninger’s assistant, and who would help him in preparing his memoirs. According to a second press notice, he was also to be assisted by a member of the editorial staff of the Hamburger Nachrichten. Bucher ultimately wrote me that he was going to Friedrichsruh, and hoped we “should be harnessed together.” (...)
I called upon him the same day to congratulate him, and mentioned to him my fear that nothing would now come of my proposed visit to Friedrichsruh. Perhaps my letter of the 11th had not reached the Chief’s hands; or perhaps he had been turned against me by an article on his retirement, published in the Grenzboten, which was, however, written by Kayser, and reached Grunow just before mine. Bucher reassured me as to this supposition, but said that Kayser, like Lindau and Holstein, had actually gone over into the other camp. (...) Although he considered it quite impossible that the Prince could now give up the idea of employing me in connection with the papers, I did not feel sure of this, and so a few days afterwards I wrote again to the Prince, and registered my letter. Count Herbert replied that “the Prince intends to invite you here in order to sort some papers. In the meantime, however, he is too much occupied by visits and the arrangements rendered necessary by his removal to take these papers in hand immediately.”
A fortnight later, after I had received a post card from Bucher informing me that he had started for Friedrichsruh, I wrote to him there (as to the proposed visit, and giving him an account of my future movements). This crossed the following letter, which Bucher sent to me under cover to Frau Hedwig Hämmerling:—
“Friedrichsruh, May 15, 1890.
“I have two reasons for sending you this letter under cover to another person; first, because you have not informed me of your whereabouts, and secondly, because there is some reason to suspect the existence of a Dark Cabinet. Therefore be prudent when you write to me here. I have had a large bundle to sort and register, and in doing so have satisfied myself that you have exhausted the materials. What came into my hands was very unimportant,—congratulations, letters of thanks, telegrams, reports from aides-de-camp and such like. (...) I am expected to remain until H. returns from England, probably towards the end of this month. He (the Chief) is physically well, and is gradually quieting down.”
I immediately acknowledged the receipt of Bucher’s note, and reminded him of the concluding request in my former letter. He replied on the 17th of May, 1890, again under cover to Hedwig Hämmerling: “To enable me to answer your questions I should be obliged to ask him, and up to the present I have had no opportunity of doing so. (...) After your registered letter and the reply thereto, it seems to me not to be in your interest that I should also press the matter. Besides, he talks of presently starting on a lengthy tour to countries[20] which he has not yet visited—certainly a very happy idea. I take it that he will not begin work before his return in the autumn; and then he will doubtless remember his arrangement with you. I will write you as soon as the departure is approximately settled.”
On the 20th of May I had an attack of apoplexy combined with paralysis, from which it took me six months to make an almost complete recovery; that is to say, with the exception that my handwriting had changed and my voice remained hoarse.
On the 10th of July, Frau Hämmerling received a note from Friedrichsruh (from Bucher, inquiring as to my illness). On Frau Hämmerling informing him of the truth he wrote me as follows:—
“Dear Busch,—I need not tell you how heartily I sympathise with you. I now write to put your mind at rest on one point, to tell you that you have missed nothing here, and will not miss anything during the next few weeks. I have had five or six thousand letters, extending from the fifties to the present day, to arrange in chronological order. They were all mixed up anyhow, both as regards dates and matter. They contain little on politics, and of that little again but a small portion refers to foreign affairs. He was not prepared to accept my suggestion that it would be well to put the begging letters, medical counsels, schemes for the improvement of the world at large, thundering hurrahs and fiery ‘salamanders’ into the fire. Therefore, when the preliminary work begins you will have to wander through a desert from which I have only removed tradesmen’s bills, &c. It is as yet impossible to say when that will be. He complains, with that humorous self-mocking air of desperation which you know, that he has now no time to set about anything. His excuse for the present is that of course the whole material must first be chronologically arranged, which will doubtless take a fortnight longer, although I am keeping hard at it. And then he will certainly be obliged to make some change in his way of living and in the apportionment of his time. The projected journeys will hardly come to anything; but even if he remains here he will not begin work before you are recovered—according to what F. H. (Frau Hämmerling) writes me. There is no idea of calling in Poschinger. He knows that the man is incapable of giving shape or form to anything of the kind.
“He himself and Herbert desire me to express their sympathy to you. With good wishes for your improvement,
“Truly yours (in English),
“Bucher.”
In the days immediately preceding and following this letter, the newspapers published many things from Friedrichsruh which were anything but pleasant reading to me, or were at least at variance with my conception of the greatness and distinguished character of the Prince, and also to some extent with the opinions which he had himself formerly expressed. He allowed it to be seen too often and too plainly, for the benefit of the Court and to the delight of the Radical Thersites, how mortified he felt at his base dismissal; he expressed himself, as I thought, too confidentially, and indeed it would appear sometimes with conscious untruth, in speaking to importunate Jew press spies and other eavesdroppers and talebearers from the newspaper factories. The most inexplicable of all to me was what he was represented as having said to Kingston, of the Daily Telegraph, concerning the excellence of the late Emperor Frederick—which was diametrically the opposite of what he had said to me in Berlin and at Friedrichsruh. The principal passage in the Englishman’s report runs as follows: “Finally, the conversation turned on the Emperor Frederick, of whom Prince Bismarck spoke with the profoundest admiration. He was in truth a man of rare and most estimable character, thoroughly amiable, exceptionally good-hearted, and at the same time intelligent, clear-sighted and determined. He knew exactly what he wanted, and when once he had come to a decision he held to it immutably. If he had only lived he would, as German Emperor, have amazed the world.” (Retranslation—translator’s note.) Really! That would then be a case of a farthing candle developing into a first-class lighthouse! Was it Bismarck or Kingston who said that? If the former he must have had some particular object in view. But what could it be? To elevate Frederick III. at the expense of William II.? (...)
I afterwards received from Bucher the following letter from Berlin:—
“I must send you another short contribution to your Memorabilia. When Count Herbert gave a farewell dinner to the officials, four of them—Holstein, Lindau, Kayser and Raschdau—declined the invitation. All four owed everything to the Prince. Not a word has been heard from Keudell since the 20th of March. Lehndorff, Stirum, Krupp, Stumm and Kardorff have defied the royal displeasure by visiting Friedrichsruh. After Bötticher, who owes his promotion to the Prince, had told the Emperor that Bismarck was a slave to morphia, his Majesty sent for Schweninger, and questioned him on the subject. Schweninger answered: ‘Your Majesty, that is a wretched calumny, and I know the curs with whom it originated.’ (...)
“As a contrast to this pretty set! Shortly before my departure from Friedrichsruh, Bismarck, while out driving, dropped into conversation with an old peasant on the bad weather. ‘Yes,’ the latter remarked, in Low German, ‘the good God has forgotten us altogether. He gives us no summer, and takes away our Chancellor.’”
On the 5th of September I had a visit from Bucher, who had returned from Laubbach on the 3rd or 4th, and on the 6th I called upon him. Of his communications the most noteworthy is that at Friedrichsruh he found a letter from Hermann Wagener to the Prince, from which it appeared that, as far back as 1876, W. was instructed to draw up a memorandum on working class insurance. At that time, when Bismarck doubtless first seriously took up the labour question and thought of positive measures for opposing the Social Democracy, it was the old Kreuzzeitung man who was his assistant and counsellor, and not Bucher, who belonged to the school of Lassalle and Rodbertus, as alleged by Poschinger. Bucher expressly denied that the Chancellor had ever discussed this question with him. On the 20th of September Bucher wrote to me that he had received an invitation to visit Bismarck at Varzin.
Shortly afterwards I received the following letter:—
“Varzin, October 3rd.
“Dear Busch,—I have delivered your message. He is glad you are better, and wishes you permanent recovery. Here the condition of affairs is the same as at Friedrichsruh. Nothing is being done and much time is spent over the newspapers. Owing to the articles in Nos. 431 and 433 of the Boersenzeitung, referred to in No. 459, a desire has been expressed to see the numbers of the Grenzboten which started the controversy—reproaching the bourgeoisie with opposing the paternal intentions of the Sovereign. Can you lend us the numbers in question from your file, or, if you have not got them, procure copies from Grunow? Lord Rosebery, who ran across from Scotland, was here for a few days, and is now visiting Danzig and Marienburg. With lots of good wishes,
“Bucher.”
... In another letter from Bucher of October 14th, the following passage occurs: “The Chief still occupies himself far too much with the press. In the meantime he has begun to dictate during the past few days, but without any real coherence, alternately from various years. It is, therefore, for the present, only raw material. Now and again news reaches here from the Foreign Office. Holstein, who for ten years was taken seriously by nobody, now does everything. He not only slanders the Prince, which he did twelve months since, but also abuses Herbert, who, with inconceivable blindness, had supported him up to the last. Paul Hatzfeldt too, Sardanapalus as his cousin Landsberg christened him, has proclaimed his apostacy in London. But I will also mention a decent man, Count Arco, Minister at Washington, who is here on a visit for a few days. Rara avis!”
I sent him a long jocular epistle congratulating him on his birthday on the 25th of October. But I received no answer for over seven weeks, and was already worrying myself with all sorts of fancies, when on the morning of the 22nd of December he himself called upon me. He told me that physically the Prince was in excellent health, and, as it appeared, took exercise, had a good appetite, and at table drank rather too much than too little, and besides he no longer complained of insomnia. Mentally, however, and in particular so far as his memory is concerned, “he is falling to pieces.” By this Bucher meant that he could no longer concentrate his thoughts sufficiently, had no longer a firm hold of the details in a narrative, and was easily turned aside from his subject. He also tells a story one way to-day, and quite differently to-morrow. “He wished me to go to Friedrichsruh for Christmas, but they gave me to understand—and indeed very plainly—that that would not be agreeable to them; and so I am my own master for a couple of weeks.” “Urged by Schweninger he has at length decided to dictate his reminiscences to me for an hour daily, when I take them down in shorthand. But they are merely disconnected fragments, and contain many errors, particularly in the matter of dates. For instance, there were some very interesting particulars respecting 1848, but they must first be compared with Wolf’s ‘Chronik’ and corrected. Chrysander is making himself very useful, also in his capacity of doctor, and has, for instance, done me good service with my gout. The Prince has ascertained on good authority that Lindau has been to the Korrespondenten (or the Nachrichten) in Hamburg, and the Allgemeine Zeitung in Munich, setting them against his old Chief and patron, and ‘threatening’ the latter paper with disciplinary measures if it continued to take the Chancellor’s part. The Princess’s ‘dear Rudchen,’ who for other people is a shameless Judas! Kayser, his countryman from the East, who is indeed less of a stock jobber and less worthless for official purposes, was recommended to the Foreign Office by Herbert, while Raschdau, also one of the children of Israel, who has married a millionairess of his tribe, was—if I understood Bucher rightly—introduced by Bill. (...) I asked what the Prince thought of Caprivi. He only knew that the Chief had had an interview with his successor (doubtless while he was still in Berlin—at lunch), when Caprivi said that if the Emperor sent him with an army corps into a position where its destruction might be anticipated, he would remonstrate; if the order were then repeated, he would remain at his post and await events. Bucher feared that nothing would come of the projected autobiography. ‘He has indeed dictated quite a pile of notes, which of course include a great deal of new and valuable matter; but his account is not always reliable, and in particular he often believes that he said or did something which he ought to have said or done but omitted to do, or at least could not have said or done in the manner alleged by him. And in the most important matters he sometimes stops, like a well that runs dry, and does not return to the subject. In that way he recently began to speak of his relations with Napoleon previous to 1870, but then let the subject drop, and since then I have never been able to bring him to give a coherent account of it. There is yet another drawback. In these notes he might think of history, of a legacy for the future, and that would certainly be most praiseworthy and useful, as there are many things of which he alone has a complete and accurate knowledge. But he seems to be thinking rather of something else. His thoughts are still with the present, which he desires to influence. He wishes to warn and to teach, and for that reason he often selects a subject that has nothing whatever to do with his own life, and sometimes one of which he has not a thorough knowledge, but which seems to him to offer a suitable opportunity for introducing his own reflections. For instance, he is afraid that the Emperor will not be careful and thoughtful enough in tacking between Vienna and St. Petersburg, and may, perhaps, on some occasion forget himself and draw too near to the Austrians; all the more, as of course he is aware that the gentleman in Berlin cannot endure the other in St. Petersburg, because the latter had treated him somewhat de haut en bas. Now Bismarck does not want to say that straight out and give a plain warning, but tries to work it into a survey of the treaty of Reichenbach, as the relations were then somewhat similar, the people in Berlin not rightly knowing what they wanted or with whom they really had to deal. The idea was merely to show that one was also a power—(in English) a mere show of power! I have now read it up in Ranke, however, and according to him the situation was not all as the Chief represented it. At that time, Herzberg still had charge of the conduct of affairs, and he knew exactly what he wanted, namely, Danzig and other towns on the Vistula, in order to round off West Prussia.’”
Bucher continued: “What I have done up to the present could be done equally well by any shorthand writer, the only difference being that yet another stranger would have to be taken into his confidence. But I have no taste for criticising and editing, however much Schweninger may beg and urge me to do so. That would be too much trouble and responsibility. Besides, there are not the necessary books for reference and comparison. It is true that for twenty-five years hardly a historical or political book has been published of which a copy has not been sent to him, but she has acted as librarian and has divided them between the different rooms, putting some of them in the cellar, where they rot and fall to pieces, and others in the visitors’ apartments, so that nothing can be found when it is wanted.”
Bucher agreed with me that the Chief was not prudent in his dealings with the eavesdroppers of the press; that his attitude towards the Court was not sufficiently dignified, and that he let his anger be too easily seen. At the same time, Bucher, speaking of those who came to question the Prince, observed, not inaptly: “Whoever wants to know much learns a great deal, even though it be not always unadulterated truth, and that applies with particular force to the commercial travellers for newspaper firms, who, of course, do not deal in truth.” As to the Prince’s state of feeling, Bucher said: “He diligently reads the newspapers, but on the whole he is indifferent to politics. ‘I am no longer so very much interested even in the management of my own estate.’ There is no longer the old devil-may-care spirit arising from that high sense of easy superiority and ready power of mastery—no longer the unconcerned glance cast down as from a great height, but only apathetic indifference, weary satiety.”
January 2nd, 1891.—Called on Bucher this morning. Schweninger is trying to provide the Prince with occupation on hygienic grounds. He fears that otherwise he would become still more sulky, cross-grained, and peevish, and, indeed, might in the end become mentally affected. (...)
In the course of conversation on the Prince’s notes, Bucher, in speaking of their didactic aim, referred to Nicoll’s “Recollections and Reflections” as a model for that kind of writing. He believes he must soon return to Friedrichsruh, “although it will probably lead to nothing.” “God grant that there may be an improvement!” he sighed on our parting at the door. I heartily joined in that prayer.
It was not until the 21st of February that I again received a sign of life from Bucher, and then in the form of an unsigned note enclosed in an envelope to Hedwig. It ran: “You will probably soon receive an invitation to the place from which I write. The enclosure is for publication, with an introduction or note to the effect that the letter was read to the guests on the 28/7/72, and that several of them took copies of it. Do not forget to write to G. to impress upon the sub-editorial ass and on the proof-readers that not a single letter is to be omitted, and that the abbreviations, &c., and the Latin characters in ‘Borussia’ and ‘Material’ are to be retained. The Chief will have it so. If you happen to write to me, remember the Dark Cabinet.”
The “enclosure,” a letter from the Emperor William I., ran as follows:—
“Coblenz, July 26, 1872.
“On the 28th instant you will celebrate a beautiful family festival which God in His mercy has granted to you. I may not, and cannot, withhold my sympathy on this occasion, and therefore you and the Princess, your consort, will accept my heartiest and warmest congratulations on this elevating festival. That your domestic happiness should always have held the first place among the numerous blessings which Providence has elected to bestow upon you both—it is for this that your prayers of thanksgiving should rise to Heaven! But our and my prayers of thanksgiving go further, inasmuch as they include thanks to God for having placed you at my side at a decisive moment, and thereby opened up a path for my Government far beyond imagination and understanding. But you will return thanks to Heaven for this also—that God granted you to achieve such great things. And in and after all your labours you have constantly found recreation and peace in your home. It is that which sustains you in your difficult vocation. My constant anxiety for you is that you should preserve and strengthen yourself for this vocation, and I am pleased to learn from your letter, through Count Lehndorff, and personally from the Count, that you now think more of yourself than of the documents.
“As a souvenir of your silver wedding you will receive a vase representing a grateful Borussia, of which—however fragile its material may be—every fragment will nevertheless express what Prussia owes to you for her elevation to the pinnacle on which she now stands.
“Your faithful, devoted and grateful King,
“William.”
CHAPTER VI
I AM INVITED TO FRIEDRICHSRUH—BUCHER AND THE PROPOSED “MEMOIRS”—HE DOUBTS WHETHER THE LATTER WILL BE COMPLETED—THE CHIEF—“BÜSCHLEIN” AS BEFORE—THE ANGLO-GERMAN AGREEMENT—THE EMPEROR AND RUSSIA—THREE KINGS IN THEIR NAKEDNESS—BÜSCHLEIN WILL WRITE THE SECRET HISTORY OF OUR TIMES—THE PRINCE GIVES ME IMPORTANT PAPERS TO EXAMINE IN MY ROOM: HIS RESIGNATION IN 1890, A DRAFT OF A CONFIDENTIAL STATEMENT OF THE MOTIVES OF HIS RETIREMENT AND NOTES ON THE ATTITUDE OF THE INDIVIDUAL MINISTERS ON THAT OCCASION—STILL ANOTHER BOOK ON BISMARCK IN VIEW; CORRESPONDENCE ON THE SUBJECT WITH BUCHER AND THE CHIEF HIMSELF; THE PLAN DROPPED—LAST VISIT TO BUCHER IN JANUARY, 1892—HIS DEATH—LAST STAY AT FRIEDRICHSRUH IN MAY, 1893—GOOD-BYE, DEAR OLD FRIEND.
On the 23rd of February I again received a letter from Bucher, also under cover to Frau Hedwig Hämmerling: “23/2/91. He says he would like to see you once more, and requests you to visit him. You may choose the time most convenient to yourself, but give two days’ notice in advance, so as to avoid clashing with an invitation to Hamburg. Be sure to bring your sleeping garments with you, if you are as little in favour with the lady of the house as I am.”
I replied that I should have preferred to go the day after to-morrow, but that as I was at liberty to name my own time, and was now engaged in reading over papers, arranging and packing for my removal on the 16th of March, I would come on the 18th. I further requested him to say by what train I should come, and called attention to the fine cartoon and verses, “Dropping the Pilot,” in Punch, of the 29th of March, 1890, which an acquaintance had sent me the previous day, and which I should bring with me if they had not already seen it.
Bucher replied that they had the “Pilot” from Punch at Friedrichsruh; and that he himself had travelled by the slow train. I arrived at Friedrichsruh at 3 P.M. on the 18th of March. The Prince had gone out for a drive with Buhl, the member of Parliament, who had come on a visit. A servant showed me upstairs to No. 4 as my room, where Grant, Bancroft, and the busts of Washington and Hamilton kept me company. I immediately visited Bucher, whose room was opposite mine. He complained that the work of the “Memoirs” stood exactly where it did before. In dictating, the Prince wandered from one point to another, told many things several times, and almost always differently, &c. A huge pile of dictated notes had already been transcribed, he calculated some sixty printed sheets. It would, however, have to be sifted and worked up, and the Chief had not as yet looked through a line of it. Hardly anything would come of it, and, in any case, he had not as yet decided whether it should be published during his lifetime or after his death. Bucher intends to leave again for a time at the end of the month, and is very dissatisfied with his occupation hitherto. He showed me in the pile on the chair a thick packet, endorsed, “Nikolsburg,” and observed that it dealt less with the important events that took place there than with a variety of other matters. He had seen few of the papers arranged by me in 1888, none at all of those relating to the alliance with Austria, only two or three letters from the Gerlach correspondence, and he had also seen nothing of the correspondence with Manteuffel and Schleinitz. He believes that the Chief has sent all those that are missing to a bank in England for safety. But a few days later he modified this surmise, and said he thought the papers were in the keeping of some trusty friend.
Downstairs before dinner, Buhl, a lean old gentleman with a grey beard, introduced himself to me. I now made the acquaintance also of Dr. Chrysander, a slight young man. The Chief appeared shortly afterwards with the Princess. He greeted me with the customary “Büschlein,” was pleased to see from my appearance that I was well again, and said I must sit next to him at table on his right, while President Buhl sat on his left between himself and his consort. The Prince looked very well, was most good-humoured and talkative during dinner, was surprised that I still had so much hair, told amusing stories and expatiated with knowledge on various fine wines and judges thereof. (...)
Dinner was followed by some more serious conversation in the coffee-room. In reply to a question by Buhl the Prince disapproved of Caprivi’s East African policy: “Zanzibar ought not to have been left to the English. It would have been better to maintain the old arrangement. We could then have had it at some later time when England required our good offices against France or Russia. In the meantime our merchants, who are cleverer, and, like the Jews, are satisfied with smaller profits, would have kept the upper hand in business. To regard Heligoland as an equivalent shows more imagination than sound calculation. In the event of war it would be better for us that it should be in the hands of a neutral Power. It is difficult and most expensive to fortify”—a point which he then explained in detail. “That does not make one an ‘extender of the realm,’ not even to the extent that I was in the old days when I travelled back to Berlin with the cession of a strip of land on the Jahde in my pocket, thinking not a little of my achievement!” The Prince is also opposed to building any more large ships: “rather two small vessels than one big one; the North Sea and Baltic Canal doubles our naval strength.” (...)
On Friday, March 20th, after lunch, at which the Chief was again very bright and communicative, Bucher at my request allowed me to read the chapter on Nikolsburg from the material dictated for the “Memoirs,” in the first place that I should note the numerous digressions from the real subject. These excursions included, among other things, references to the anti-German Queen of Holland, intended annexations, Frederick the Great, an intrigue during the Regency, the indemnity, the impression made in Russia by the events of the summer of 1866, the Danzig Pronunciamento, the German question in 1848, dynastic sentiments, a lost opportunity in 1848, factions, the Wochenblatt party, Augusta, the removal to St. Petersburg and the Italian war. In doing this I ran through the greater part of the manuscript, and found some new and interesting matter respecting the King’s desire for annexation, Bismarck’s reasons for moderation, and a speedy conclusion of peace; Moltke’s strategic plans; a visit of the Crown Prince, who comes to Bismarck and promises to support him at a time when he was almost despairing of carrying through his scheme; and the final consent of the King, who complains, however, that it is an “ignominious peace.” Further matters of interest are: Augusta’s influence on the Regent, Bismarck’s audience before his transfer to St. Petersburg, his condemnation of the Ministers of the new era, as for instance of Schwerin, and afterwards of Usedom and his English wife; the remarkable allegation that Frederick the Great was also vain, supported by references to the King’s own judgment of a poem written by himself immediately after the battle (“n’est pas trop mal après une bataille”), and to his flute playing. In conclusion, the views expressed as to our relations with Austria and Russia, and the policy which they impose upon us, well deserve to be taken to heart. Irritation against the Russians has arisen (this doubtless refers to the Emperor William) out of personal impressions (due to inadequate appreciation); yet we cannot be quite certain of Austria, as the possibility of a breach with her depends upon one person. Bucher says that the Chief would doubtless speak to me about Windthorst, as to whom there were still many things to be said, and suggested that I should start the subject when opportunity offered. This was done indirectly over our coffee after dinner, but the Prince did not take it up. Later on, however, it was suggested that such excessive honours would never have been paid to the old Guelph advocate at his death if the Emperor had not set the example. To-day the Chief dictated to Bucher on “questions of State rights,” but was unable to get properly under way and could not verify or complete what he had to say, as he had not got his books, “his tools.” (...)
At noon on Saturday, the 21st of March, the Chief sent Bucher, to whom he had again been dictating in the morning on questions of State rights, to ask if I would go for a walk with him. (...)
I took an opportunity of inquiring how his “Memoirs” were getting on, mentioning that I knew he had begun to dictate his reminiscences and views. “That is so,” he rejoined; “but it is probable that in the end it will come to nothing. I have no documents, and even if I remember the main points—quite clearly—one cannot after all carry in his head every detail of what has happened in the course of thirty years. Then as to the publication during my lifetime. Ever since 1847 I have constantly represented the monarchical principle, and held it aloft like a banner. Now I have seen three Kings in a state of nakedness, and frequently these three exalted gentlemen did not make altogether a very good show. Still it would not do to say that openly before the world—it would be inconsistent—opposed to principle. And yet I can just as little keep silent when once I come to deal with that point, to say nothing of asserting the contrary. And if it (the publication) takes place after my death, then they will say: ‘There you have it! Even from his grave! What a detestable old wretch!’” I could only reply that one has duties towards himself, and his own honour,—duties towards that which one has created; that one ought as a man of experience and judgment to warn the country against wrong courses into which it may be led through the impetuousness or thoughtlessness and excessive self-confidence of new politicians; and furthermore that one has duties towards history, to dispel misunderstandings and chimeras, and the falsehoods of flattering courtiers; and that truth, which stands above all things, must have its rights—truth of which Jesus said that it will make us free. He listened in silence to this eager and audacious outburst; and I then spoke of another subject—namely, Kingston’s report in the Daily Telegraph of an interview with him, and in particular of the very favourable opinion of the Emperor Frederick, therein ascribed to him, which could not be reconciled with the views I had heard him express. He replied: “I know nothing of any Kingston, or of any interview in an English newspaper. The report must be an invention (Schwindel).” He then mentioned the picture (in Punch), “Dropping the Pilot,” and said: “The Emperor was delighted with it. He saw in it a recognition of his right to smash the pot—you know as in the witches’ kitchen: ‘Entzwei, entzwei, da liegt der Brei.’”
At lunch among other things the Prince related the history of some excellent old Jamaica rum, of which a bottle stood on the table. The conversation then led to a few corrections. It was Kayser and not Rudchen Lindau who had warned and threatened the Allgemeine Zeitung in Munich; and Bötticher had not told the lie about the morphiomania of the Chancellor direct to the Emperor, but to the Grand Duke of Baden, who then related it to his Majesty. The statement that the latter questioned Schweninger is true, as also the rough answer given by the doctor. “And as a matter of fact,” said the Chief, “I have only taken morphia when in great pain, and it has never done me any harm; although Bötticher asserted that he found me quite deranged mentally and irresponsible for my actions.”
After dinner while reading the papers the Chief remarked, I now forget in what connection: “One day, long after my death, Büschlein will write the secret history of our times from good sources.” “Yes, Serene Highness,” I replied, “but not a real history—I cannot do that—rather a compilation of good materials, conscientiously collected and placed in a proper light. Nor shall it be long after your death, which of course we pray may be as remote as possible, but immediately, without delay, as in these corrupt times one cannot too soon vindicate the rights of truth.” He then came to speak of the newspaper reports to the effect that more friendly relations were gradually growing up between himself and the Emperor, a statement which he denied as something obviously impossible. He referred to the new communal regulations, which he disapproved of. He said they had offended the farmers, whom they put on a level with the small traders and artisans in communal affairs. He then spoke at some length of Minister Herrfurth, addressing himself for the most part to me, much to the following effect (Bucher afterwards recapitulated his statement to me upstairs): while the Emperor was still Prince and lived at Potsdam, he, Bismarck, desired to prepare him for the government, and to provide him, so to say, with tuition in the various branches of the art of governing. Up to that time he knew little, and indeed did not trouble himself much about it, but preferred to enjoy himself in the society of young officers and suchlike. The plan was to get him to remove to Berlin, somewhere near Bellevue. But the financial authorities at Court were of opinion that that would be too expensive. The Prince was then to hear lectures at Potsdam, and Bismarck proposed Herrfurth, the Under-Secretary of State,—who was reputed to be well informed, particularly in statistics—as his tutor on internal questions. The Prince agreed and invited Herrfurth to lunch with him, and then told the Chancellor he could not stand him, with his bristly beard, his dryness and tediousness, and asked whether the Prince could not suggest some one else. Yes, he would send him Regierungsrath von Brandenstein. The Prince had nothing to say against that, so Brandenstein was written to. But H.R.H., although it is true he lunched with him several times, paid so little attention to his explanations that Herr von Brandenstein lost patience, and begged to be given some other employment. In the meantime, shortly before the death of the Emperor Frederick, Minister Puttkamer was dismissed. When Prince William ascended the throne Bismarck spoke to him on the subject, and he said he would of course make Puttkamer Minister again, but a certain interval must be allowed to elapse—for appearance sake. Bismarck proposed that Herrfurth should hold the post in the interval, and told him that he must carry on the policy which Puttkamer had adopted, and resign his place to the latter after a certain time, receiving in return a post of Chief President. Would he agree to that? Yes, he would; he had always followed the course laid down by his superior, Puttkamer, and would willingly make way for him when the time came. But when Bismarck, after a few weeks or months, observed to his Majesty that the time had come to reinstate Puttkamer, the Emperor replied, no, he did not think of doing so any longer, as he had in the meantime grown accustomed to Herrfurth, and was now quite satisfied with him. The change had come about in this way. Herrfurth had, without previous consultation with the Prime Minister, put himself in direct communication with the Emperor, and taking advantage of the Sovereign’s wishes, recommended a liberal reform of the Communal Regulations, as a measure by which he could gain numerous friends and secure imperishable fame. “After a few days,” concluded the Prince, “my Schönhausen people came to me and asked, ‘What does this mean?’ They had received papers, and were, it would seem, to report whether they desired to have all the old arrangements upset, and every one put on the same level. And this was done throughout the seven old provinces, much to the surprise and dissatisfaction of the peasantry. That too was one of the causes of my retirement.” The Chief afterwards said that when I left he wished to give me some papers to take with me and keep for him. I was to make copies of them, which I could publish at a future day. I promised to remind him, and also offered my services for other purposes in the future; “I had always regarded myself as his little archer, who at his call would even shoot my bolt at the sun himself.” He smiled, and said: “Many thanks, perhaps.”
Sunday, March 22nd.—During the forenoon the Chief dictated to Bucher some notes on the question as to how the German Constitution might be altered in case it should no longer work. He also told him that he wished to give me certain important documents to take with me. (...)
Monday, March 23rd.—(...) I had waited yesterday in vain to see the Chief on his return from lunch to his study, in order to remind him of the documents which I was to take with me. To-day, after lunch, I called upon him in his own room for this purpose. I apologised for disturbing him, but, as I intended to leave to-morrow, I thought it was of importance to him that I should take the papers with me. “So it is,” he rejoined, “and it is well that you have reminded me of it while I am alone. But why are you going away so soon?” “I do not wish to be any longer a burden to you, Serene Highness.” “But you are nothing of the kind. On the contrary, I am glad to see such a faithful old comrade of the war time; and, moreover, you are so quiet that you disturb no one.” We then agreed that I should remain for a few days longer, and remind him of the papers once more later on. (...)
During the day workmen were engaged unpacking large cases of silver plate—a valuable treasure which German manufacturers had presented to the Prince as a token of their esteem. At dinner the old gentleman, who still remains the same lover of nature and of animals, had a great deal to tell about the starlings, for whom he had had a few dozen small wooden shelters put up in the trees behind the house. “They held a public meeting to-day,” he said, “probably in connection with the approach of spring. As I was going for my walk I first saw seven of them sitting together in one place and making music. Shortly after their numbers increased, and finally there were thirty of them sitting together, wing to wing.” He then cast a glance at the grey bull-dog waltzing round the room, and observed, “That reminds me of the funeral honours paid to Windthorst. I should never have thought of getting him (the dog), but the Emperor presented him to me. If it had not been for the Emperor’s intervention at the beginning, they would never have made such a fuss about Windthorst.” After dinner the conversation turned on newspaper tattle, as, for instance, that he had sent twelve cases full of important papers to an English bank to keep for him. “Twelve!” he exclaimed, smiling, “I wish I had even one such case full.” The gossips of the press also reported that he had recently purchased a house in Berlin, such and such a number in the Königgrätzerstrasse—better informed authorities had it that it was two houses—at a very high price. From this he went on to say that they once assessed the rent of his palace (the Palais Radziwill) in the Wilhelmstrasse (for the inhabited house duty) at 50,000 marks. On his remonstrating, they replied that the English Ambassador had assessed his own house, which was not so large, at as high a figure.
In the forenoon of Tuesday, March 24th, the Chief sent upstairs for me and handed me, first, three metallographic copies of documents, with two letters and a memorandum. All these were from the year 1885, and referred to the protection of municipalities against arbitrary school rates. “They are metallographs,” he said, “and as such I dare say I may publish them at some future time. You can take them with you for that purpose, but they should be returned to me afterwards.” “Then I will copy them.” “Yes, but that means a great deal of work, twenty or more pages, in parts closely written.” “That does not matter, it shall be done.” “And then here is my resignation, and this is the statement of my motives. You may read that through—” (and, as I boldly assume, with tacit permission to take a copy away with me, at present merely for my own information). “This is about Herbert—you can read that also, and then bring them all back to me.” I went immediately to my room and began to copy the resignation and the statement of motives, as well as the answer of the Chief to the Imperial acceptance thereof, which he had given me instead of the paper referring to Herbert. The metallographic documents will be dealt with later on.