Frankfurt, 12th Nov., 1858.
Your letter was an unexpected pleasure: the address looked just like one of Johanna’s, and I wondered how she could have got to the Uckermark. I have not been able to answer before: business, a cold, hunting, has partly taken up all my time, nor did I quite know what to write to you about the new phenomenon in the political heaven, that I could not have written as well about the comet—an interesting phenomenon wholly unexpected by me, the object and nature of which is yet unknown to me. The orbit of the comet our astronomers are pretty well able to calculate, but it would be difficult for them to do the same by this new political septasterism. Johanna reached here safely with the children this morning; God be praised, they are well, but not in good spirits. She is upset by all the political terrors they have filled her with in Pomerania and Berlin, and I try in vain to render her more light-hearted. The natural distress of the lady of a house also influences her, when it becomes doubtful whether one remains in a new house set up with care and expense. She came hither with the idea that I was about to take my leave. I do not know whether my resignation will be forced on me without my own will, or whether I must seek it for decency’s sake. Before I do it voluntarily, I shall wait to see what the ministerial colors are.
If the Upper Chamber retain their feelings for the conservative party, and sincerely strive for a good understanding and peace at home, they may rely upon a healthy state in our foreign affairs, and that is of great importance to me, for “we had fallen, and did not know how.” That is what I especially felt. I think that the Prince has been especially placed at the head to secure a guarantee against party government, and against any concessions to the Left. If I am mistaken in this, or if they wish to dispose of me as an office-seeker, I shall retire behind the cannon of Schönhausen, and observe how Prussia can be governed by majorities of the Left, and also endeavor to do my duty to the Upper Chamber. Change is the soul of life, and I shall feel myself ten years younger if I find myself in the same attitude as in 1848-’9. Should I not find the parts of gentleman and diplomatist consistent, the pleasure or the burden of fulfilling a prominent position will not cause me to err for a moment in my choice. I have enough to live upon according to my wants, and if God keeps my wife and children healthy, as they have been, I say, “vogue la galère,” no matter what water we swim in. It will be very unimportant to me, after thirty years, whether I play the diplomatist or the country Junker; and hitherto the prospect of an honest contest, without being confined by any official trammels—particularly in political swimming-baths—has almost as much charm for me as the prospect of a régime of truffles, dispatches, and grand crosses. “After nine, all is over,” says the player. I can not tell you more than these personal opinions—the enigma stands before me unsolved. I have one great satisfaction here at the Diet. All those gentlemen who six months ago demanded my recall as a necessity for German unity, now tremble at the thought of losing me. To —— the phantom of 1848 is a terror; and they are all like pigeons who see the hawk—afraid of democracy, barricades, Parliament, and ... —— sinks into my arms touchingly, and says, with a cramped shake of the hand, “We are again forced into one field.” The French naturally, but the English also, look upon us as firebrands, and the Russians fear that the Emperor will be led astray by our plans of reform. I say to every one naturally, “Only be calm, and all will come right;” and they answer, “Yes, if you were going to stay, then we should have a guarantee, but ...” If he doesn’t feel Frankfurt singing in his ears, he has no ear-drums. In a week he has been degraded from a worthy liberal conservative in the imaginations of his eventual colleagues, to a scarlet tiger—helper’s helper of Kinkel and D’Ester. The Bamberg diplomatist talks of a continental assurance against Prussian firebrandism, growls of a tri-Imperial alliance against us—a new Olmütz with effectual operations. In short, the political world is getting less tiresome. My children cry, “Pietsch comes!” in the joy at my having a servant of that name at Schönhausen; and it would seem that the arrival of this Pietsch and the comet are not without significance. Heartily farewell, my very dear one, and greet Oscar. He must not hang down his head—it’s all gammon.
Frankfurt, 10th Dec., 1858.
You had rightly guessed in your letter to Johanna, that your kindness would be asked for a Christmas commission. I should like to give Johanna a bracelet. The kind of thing flitting before me is broad, smooth, mailed, bending, made of chessboard-patterned little four-cornered gold pieces—without jewels—pure gold, as far as two hundred thalers will go. If you find something that pleases you better, I have every confidence in your taste. The exact thing in the fashion is not, therefore, pleasing to me—such things last longer than the fashion. Be so good, and have it directed to “Privy Councillor ——, Prussian Embassy,” with an inclosed letter for me, or the old gentleman may think it a delicate attention for himself.
Johanna will have written you as to the child complaints we have had, and how I have suffered from colds and coughs. I do not know whether much or little sleep, diet or excess, housekeeping or hunting, improves or hurts, but I turn from one to the other, from ideas of health. As to my transfer or recall, all is still again; for a time, Petersburg seemed very certain, and I had grown so accustomed to the idea, that I felt quite disappointed when the rumor went forth that I was to remain here. There will be some bad political weather here, which I should be very glad to weather out in bear-furs, with caviar and elk-shooting. Our new Cabinet is still looked upon abroad with suspicion; Austria alone, with cunning calculation, gives it a meed of praise; while ——, behind his hand, warns us; and so do his colleagues, at all the courts. The cat won’t let the mice alone. But, in the end, the ministers must show a policy; merely cursing the Kreuzzeitung will not last forever. I shall hardly come to Berlin in the winter; it would be very agreeable if you would visit us here before I am “put out in the cold” on the Neva.