The first thing that King William and his minister did was to double the army. But this vast increase of military strength seemed unnecessary to the Liberal party, and the requisite increase of taxes to support it was unpopular. Hence, Bismarck was brought in conflict with the lower Chamber, which represented the middle classes. He dared not tell his secret schemes without imperilling their success, which led to grave misunderstandings. For four years the conflict raged between the crown and the parliament, both the king and Bismarck being inflexible; and the lower House was equally obstinate in refusing to grant the large military supplies demanded. At last, Bismarck dissolved the Chambers, and the king declared that as the Three Estates could not agree, he should continue to do his duty by Prussia without regard to "these pieces of paper called constitutions." The next four sessions of the Chamber were closed in the same manner. Bismarck admitted that he was acting unconstitutionally, but claimed the urgency of public necessity. In the public debates he was cool, sarcastic, and contemptuous. The Press took up the fight, and the Press was promptly muzzled. Bismarck was denounced as a Catiline, a Strafford, a Polignac; but he retained a provoking serenity, and quietly prepared for war,--since war, he foresaw, was sooner or later inevitable. "Nothing can solve the question," said he, "but blood and iron."
At last an event occurred which showed his hand. In November, 1863, Frederick VII., the king of Denmark, died. By his death the Schleswig-Holstein question again burst upon distracted Europe,--Who was to reign over the two Danish provinces? The king of Denmark, as Duke of Schleswig and Holstein, had been represented in the Germanic Diet. By the treaty of London, in 1852, he had undertaken not to incorporate the duchies with the rest of his monarchy, allowing them to retain their traditional autonomy. In 1863, shortly before his death, Frederick VII. by a decree dissolved this autonomy, and virtually incorporated Schleswig, which was only partly German, with the Danish monarchy, leaving the wholly German Holstein as before. Bismarck protested against this violation of treaty obligations. The Danish parliament nevertheless passed a law which incorporated the province with Denmark; and Christian IX., the new monarch, confirmed the law.
But a new claimant to the duchies now appeared in the person of Frederick of Augustenburg, a German prince; and the Prussian Chamber advocated his claims, as did the Diet itself; but the throne held its opinion in reserve. Bismarck contrived (by what diplomatic tricks and promises it is difficult to say) to induce Austria to join with Prussia in seizing the provinces in question and in dividing the spoil between them. As these two Powers controlled the Diet at Frankfort, it was easy to carry out the programme. An Austro-Prussian army accordingly invaded Schleswig-Holstein, and to the scandal of all Europe drove the Danish defenders to the wall. It was regarded in the same light as the seizure of Silesia by Frederic the Great,--a high-handed and unscrupulous violation of justice and right. England was particularly indignant, and uttered loud protests. So did the lesser States of Germany, jealous of the aggrandizement of Prussia. Even the Prussian Chamber refused to grant the money for such an enterprise.
But Bismarck laughed in his sleeve. This arch-diplomatist had his reasons, which he did not care to explain. He had in view the weakening of the power of the Diet, and a quarrel with Austria. True, he had embraced Austria, but after the fashion of a bear. He knew that Austria and Prussia would wrangle about the division of the spoil, which would lead to misunderstandings, and thus furnish the pretext for a war, which he felt to be necessary before Prussia could be aggrandized and German unity be effected, with Prussia at its head,--the two great objects of his life. His policy was marvellously astute; but he kept his own counsels, and continued to hug his secret enemy.
On the 30th of October, 1864, the Treaty of Vienna was signed, by which it was settled that the king of Denmark should surrender Schleswig-Holstein and Lauenburg to Austria and Prussia, and he bound himself to submit to what their majesties might think fit as to the disposition of these three duchies. Probably both parties sought an occasion to quarrel, since their commissioners had received opposite instructions,--the Austrians defending the claims of Frederick of Augustenburg, as generally desired in Germany, and the Prussians now opposing them. Prussia demanded the expulsion of the pretender; to which Austria said no. Prussia further sounded Austria as to the annexation of the duchies to herself, to which Austria consented, on condition of receiving an equivalent of some province in Silesia. "What!" thought Bismarck, angrily, "give you back part of what was won for Prussia by Frederic the Great? Never!" Affairs had a gloomy look; but war was averted for a while by the Convention of Gastein, by which the possession of Schleswig was assigned to Prussia, and Holstein to Austria; and further, in consideration of two and a half millions of dollars, the Emperor Francis Joseph ceded to King William all his rights of co-proprietorship in the Duchy of Lauenburg.
But the Chamber of Berlin boldly declared this transaction to be null and void, since the country had not been asked to ratify the treaty. It must be borne in mind that the conflict was still going on between Bismarck, as the defender of the absolute sovereignty of the king, and the liberal and progressive members of the Chamber, who wanted a freer and more democratic constitution. Opposed, then, by the Chamber, Bismarck dissolved it, and coolly reminded his enemies that the Chamber had nothing to do with politics,--only with commercial affairs and matters connected with taxation. This was the period of his greatest unpopularity, since his policy and ultimate designs were not comprehended. So great was the popular detestation in which he was held that a fanatic tried to kill him in the street, but only succeeded in wounding him slightly.
In the meantime Austria fomented disaffection in the provinces which Prussia had acquired, and Bismarck resolved to cut the knot by the sword. Prussian troops marched to the frontier, and Austria on her part also prepared for war. It is difficult to see that a real casus belli existed. We only know that both parties wanted to fight, whatever were their excuses and pretensions; and both parties sought the friendship of Russia and France, especially by holding out delusive hopes to Napoleon of accession of territory. They succeeded in inducing both Russia and France to remain neutral,--mere spectators of the approaching contest, which was purely a German affair. It was the first care of Prussia to prevent the military union of her foes in North Germany with her foes in the south,--which was effected in part by the diplomatic genius of Bismarck, and in part by occupying the capitals of Hanover, Saxony, and Hesse-Cassel with Prussian troops, in a very summary way.
The encounter now began in earnest between Prussia and Austria for the prize of ascendency. Both parties were confident of success,--Austria as the larger State, with proud traditions, triumphant over rebellious Italy; and Prussia, with its enlarged military organization and the new breech-loading needle-gun.
Count von Moltke at this time came prominently on the European stage as the greatest strategist since Napoleon. He was chief of staff to the king, who was commander-in-chief. He set his wonderful machinery in harmonious action, and from his office in Berlin moved his military pawns by touch of electric wire. Three great armies were soon centralized in Bohemia,--one of three corps, comprising one hundred thousand men, led by Prince Charles, the king's nephew; the second, of four corps, of one hundred and sixteen thousand men, commanded by the crown prince, the king's son; and the third, of forty thousand, led by General von Bittenfield. "March separately; strike together," were the orders of Moltke. Vainly did the Austrians attempt to crush these armies in detail before they should combine at the appointed place. On they came, with mathematical accuracy, until two of the armies reached Gitschin, the objective point, where they were joined by the king, by Moltke, by Bismarck, and by General von Roon, the war minister. On the 2d of June, 1866, they were opposite Königgrätz (or Sadowa, as the Austrians called it), where the Austrians were marshalled. On the 3d of July the battle began; and the scales hung pretty evenly until, at the expected hour, the crown prince--"our Fritz," as the people affectionately called him after this, later the Emperor Frederick William--made his appearance on the field with his army. Assailed on both flanks and pressed in the centre, the Austrians first began to slacken fire, then to waver, then to give way under the terrific concentrated fire of the needle-guns, then to retreat into ignominious flight. The contending forces were about equal; but science and the needle-gun won the day, and changed the whole aspect of modern warfare. The battle of Königgrätz settled this point,--that success in war depends more on good powder and improved weapons than on personal bravery or even masterly evolutions. Other things being equal, victory is almost certain to be on the side of the combatants who have the best weapons. The Prussians won the day of Königgrätz by their breech-loading guns, although much was due to their superior organization and superior strategy.
That famous battle virtually ended the Austro-Prussian campaign, which lasted only about seven weeks. It was one of those "decisive battles" that made Prussia the ascendent power in Germany, and destroyed the prestige of Austria. It added territory to Prussia equal to one quarter of the whole kingdom, and increased her population by four and a half millions of people. At a single bound, Prussia became a first-class military State.