And how is the Prince inclined? Were it better if it rested with one man to decide whether we should have war or peace?
And there is another bitter experience that is forced upon us in periods of doubt and indecision; namely, that fixed principles begin to waver.
I found it a great comfort to have Ludwig with me. He was so thoroughly in sympathy with me, and yet, at the same time, a foreigner. He had become a citizen of the New World, in which he had lived over twenty years, and his views were freer from prejudice than ours could be.
In spite of the declaration of war on the part of the French government, the ravings in the French Legislative Chambers, and the outcry in the streets of Paris, I yet encouraged a hope that war might be averted. But Ludwig thought--and I was obliged to agree with him--that it were both treachery and folly now, when the right was on our side, not to accept the battle which would thus only be postponed. For this constant waiting and watching for what others may do, is a painful state of dependence.
Ludwig was younger; his pulse was steadier. He had already fought in this country with undisciplined crowds, and, in the United States, had taken part in the great war.
He said in confidence that if he had known that the decision was so near at hand, he would have kept on better terms with Funk; because, at that moment, the great object was to gain his allegiance and that of his party, in which there was no lack of noble enthusiasts. Ludwig held that, in politics, it was not alone permissible, but even necessary, to use strategy and double-dealing.
Martella so urgently entreated me to permit her to accompany us, that, for her sake, Ludwig's wife remained at home.
At the village down by the railway station, and at nearly every station on the road, I was asked whether I believed there would be war, and whether I would advise the people to drive their cattle into out-of-the-way ravines and valleys, and to hide their household goods, on account of the threatened invasion of the French hordes.
I took great pains to explain my views; but, at the second station, Ludwig said: "Father, you are giving yourself unnecessary trouble. The people do not wish to learn anything. They think that you cannot know any more about it than they do. They simply ask you idle and anxious questions, just as they would at other times, 'What kind of weather do you think we will have?' Father, do not pour out the deepest feelings of your heart."
After that, I replied that one could not say much upon the subject; and I observed that the people, were more respectful because I was so reserved. They assumed that, as I was a delegate, I was fully informed on all subjects, and neither dared nor desired to unbosom myself.