At some resting-place on a journey into Pomerania which Bismarck undertook in the early spring of 1851, he heard from several persons of his appointment as Ambassador to the Diet in Frankfurt-on-the Maine, where the Diet was just then re-assembling. That this was not true he knew, but that he was very likely intended for the post he considered far from impossible. He thought deeply over the matter; the reflection was a novel one, but by no means unwelcome; to him a parliamentary career had become the less pleasing the longer he had followed it—he was not vain enough for that: his manly self-confidence, however, was considerable, and perhaps he thought of his mother’s predictions. On his return to Berlin, after minute self-examination, he determined to accept the position of Ambassador to the Diet, should it be offered him.
We do not know whether the idea of intrusting Bismarck with this office—unquestionably the most important which Prussia at that time had to fill—first occurred to Frederick William IV. himself, or whether it was the thought of the Minister von Manteuffel; at any rate it was founded on the assumption that Bismarck would be a persona grata to Austria, as it was then Prussia’s problem to treat of German politics with the best understanding towards Austria. It was the custom of Frederick William IV., who more than proved how dear every thing that concerned Germany was to his heart, to select his Ambassador to the Diet with the utmost care; and the delicate circumstances of the time rendered the necessity for caution all the greater. Yet, it will be said, on this occasion his choice fell upon a man who had hitherto never served in diplomatic matters. We certainly know from the mouth of a Minister of State, on very confidential terms with the King, that the latter “was much attached to Bismarck, and expected great things at his hands.”
Bismarck paid a visit to Herr von Manteuffel; the latter soon told him that His Majesty the King desired to speak with him, and then, without any circumlocution, asked him in what his views concerning the ambassadorship consisted. The cautious Minister was not a little surprised when Bismarck, in so many words, declared himself prepared to undertake it. He was evidently not without hesitation at so rapid a decision; desiring him, however, to wait upon His Majesty the King without delay.
Bismarck was received by his King, at Sans-Souci, with that favor and grace which he ever evinced towards him; but the King was even perhaps more astonished than his Prime Minister, when Bismarck frankly and honestly declared—“If your Majesty is desirous of trying the experiment, I am ready to fulfill your wishes!”
Frederick William IV. perhaps thought there was a certain degree of temerity in the rapid decision of Bismarck, and drew his attention to the significance and difficulty of the position.
“Your Majesty can surely try me,” replied Bismarck; “if it prove a failure, I can be recalled in six months, or even sooner than that!”
Despite all the doubts and hesitation which arose in his mind, the King remained firm to his intention, and in May, 1851, Bismarck was appointed to the post of First Secretary of the Embassy to the Diet, with the title of Privy Councillor.
He immediately departed for his post. He here found himself on new, and, to him, entirely strange ground, and his duty was certainly not rendered easy for him. Lieut.-General Theodor Rochus von Rochow, who was to introduce him to his new position, kept him at a distance from actual business, with the well-known and intelligible jealousy which most men entertain towards their successors in office. Herr von Gruner was a liberal and an opponent of Bismarck’s, but the other German representatives felt a sort of virtuous shudder at the famous reactionary Junker. Perhaps the Presiding Deputy, Count von Thun-Hohenstein, who thought to see in Bismarck the thorough partisan of Austria, was the only person who bid him welcome, at the same time with the intention of causing him to see what marked influence Austria possessed. This was a rather strong diplomatic blunder, for Bismarck knew precisely how to take and retain his proper position.
A pretty anecdote was related at the time, for which certainly we can not absolutely vouch, but if not true, it might have been. Bismarck one day paid the Presiding Deputy a visit. Count Thun received him with a sort of brusque familiarity, went on coolly smoking his cigar, and did not even ask Bismarck to take a chair. The latter simply took out his cigar-case, pulled out a cigar, and said, in an easy tone, “May I beg a light, Excellency?” Excellency, astonished to the greatest degree, supplied the desired light. Bismarck got a good blaze up and then took the unoffered seat in the coolest way in the world, and led the way to a conversation.