April 7th.—At 11 A.M. a Chancery attendant brought me a letter of this day’s date from the Imperial Chancellerie, with an appointment to call upon the Prince at 2 o’clock. I was punctually in attendance; but on entering the antechamber, Friedberg, the Minister of Justice, arrived and was shown in to the Chief before me, remaining for about three-quarters of an hour. During this time Minister von Puttkamer also came in, and went away again after a conversation with Rottenburg. Thereupon the latter came to me and said it was doubtful if the Prince could receive me to-day, as he was very much exhausted. He had, however, informed him that I should be there at 2 o’clock. When he called me in, would I “make short work of it?” I replied that that depended upon the Chancellor and not upon me, but I would offer to come on another day if he were not disposed for the interview at present. At 2.45 P.M. Theiss showed me in to him. He was in undress uniform, and looked quite well, although, after he had shaken hands and asked how I was, he complained of his nervous excitement and insomnia. “I can only get a little sleep with the help of opium and morphia. I am over-worked, and, in addition to that, as you have read in the newspapers, I have latterly been worried by the people at Charlottenburg—by the women. The doctors insist that I should go to the country. Schweninger prophesies that otherwise I shall suffer from all possible forms of nervous diseases, together with typhoid. Besides, I ought to go to Varzin, to see after the damage done by the inundations. The Wipper has carried away all my mills, and to rebuild them may cost hundreds of thousands; but I cannot leave, for who knows what they would do when my back is turned—the women who want to have a share in the government—the Englishwomen? You have seen in the papers that I am thinking of retiring on account of conflicts and Court influence—not with the Emperor, who is much more reasonable and shares my views. The question now is as to the marriage of the Battenberger to Princess Victoria, which the Queen of England has in view. Three years and more ago, under the old master, it was actively promoted by her daughter, the present Empress, at first in secret. As soon as I then heard of it, I made representations to the Emperor, verbally and in writing. He allowed himself to be convinced by the reasons I adduced, and refused to give his consent, although she said the Princess loved him. Of course, he is a handsome man, with a fine presence; but I believe her nature is such that she would accept any other suitor, providing he were manly. Moreover, that is entirely beside the question. We must look at the political objections and dangers. The old Queen is fond of match-making, like all old women, and she may have selected Prince Alexander for her granddaughter, because he is a brother of her son-in-law, the husband of her favourite daughter, Beatrice. But obviously her main objects are political—a permanent estrangement between ourselves and Russia—and if she were to come here for the Princess’s birthday, there would be the greatest danger that she would get her way. In family matters she is not accustomed to contradiction, and would immediately bring the parson with her in her travelling bag and the bridegroom in her trunk, and the marriage would come off at once. Probably the Battenberger, too, would have been here by this time if I had not stepped in, for they are in a mighty hurry over there in London.”
I asked: “What is the actual condition of his Majesty at Charlottenburg? Is it really cancer, and how long is it likely to last?” He: “Cancer, and Bergmann has already given his opinion, some time ago: it is a question of three weeks or three months. Externally it is not very noticeable. He holds himself upright, and walks with a quick step. But his face (he pointed with his fingers between the cheekbones and the nose) has during the last few days become thinner, and he looks tired and depressed from the excitement. They actually ill-treated, abused and martyred him when he declined. He is glad that I have come to his assistance, as she is too much for him in argument. It is true that so far only a postponement has been secured. If the marriage nevertheless takes place, I can no longer remain in office, for I should then have lost all confidence in the future. That young and impetuous woman’s will would prevail more or less in other things too, while I should lose at St. Petersburg that reliance on my straightforwardness which I have so laboriously regained with the Emperor Alexander in spite of all sorts of incitements against me. It is true that in Charlottenburg they are most anxious to retain me—she also. They wrap me up in cotton wool and velvet. That also found expression in the rescript; but as the recognition was of too generous a character it aroused in my mind less pleasure and hope than doubt as to its sincerity, and as to whether something was not concealed behind it. If I can merely postpone and not entirely prevent these English influences upon our policy, if my remonstrances are no longer successful, and my voice not listened to, why should I continue to torment and overwork myself? I will not be a mere cloak for the follies of other people. If it were still the old Emperor with whom I was called upon to blunder along in this way—but to allow myself to be made use of by this Englishwoman, for her whims, for foreign interests, with danger and detriment to ourselves!”
I said: “The Emperor was after all a splendid old gentleman, a real King, with a high sense of duty and well-intentioned, and who knew how to appreciate you.”
He: “A trustworthy comrade, who would not leave one in the lurch.”
I: “It is true that he sometimes made your life a burden, and did not always treat you well.”
He: “Yes, but that was not done through ill-will, but through misunderstandings and insufficient knowledge of the matter in hand. When anything of importance was going on he usually began by taking the wrong road, but in the end he always allowed himself to be put straight again. Thus during the period of conflict when he could no longer get any Ministers, he wished to abdicate. When I was summoned to him at Babelsberg he had the act of abdication ready signed. He said: ‘If I cannot find any Ministers who will govern as I think right then my son had better try his hand.’ I assured him that I was prepared to be the Minister he wanted. ‘Even against the majority?’ he asked. ‘Yes, even against the majority,’ I replied. ‘Well then, that’s all right,’ he said, and tore up the document, and with it a whole sheet of concessions to the Liberals, which he had previously read to me.”
I: “Then afterwards when you travelled to Jueterbogk to meet him. The ladies at Baden had filled him with apprehensions as to an impending revolution, and he already saw the scaffold awaiting him, and you—you infused courage into him by appealing to his honour and grasping his sword knot, as you once expressed it to me?”
He: “Yes, and on other occasions he had too much courage, and wished to move too rapidly and take too much. Thus in 1864 he wished to march into Jutland without Austria, and at Nikolsburg to continue the war as far as Vienna.” I recalled the attack of hysterical weeping there. “Then at first he wanted to have half of Saxony, half of Hanover, Ansbach and Bayreuth, and a piece of Bohemia from Austria, until I persuaded him how unpractical that was.”
“And in 1870 the military conspiracy at Mainz before the march into France, and afterwards at Versailles his attitude towards the claims of the Bavarians?” I added.
He: “Certainly, when they actually proposed to proceed to violence against Bavaria and afterwards intended to deny her rights which she was entitled to claim.”