The Prince returned to Berlin in the afternoon of the 12th of November. At noon of the 15th a Chancery attendant brought me a letter from Sachse, saying that the Chief desired to see me at 1 o’clock on the following day, Wednesday. I arrived at the time appointed, and was shown in to the Prince at a quarter-past 1. He had been dictating to Count William before I went in. The Chancellor, who was in plain clothes, looked fresh and hearty, but began by complaining of his health. He had been ill, he said, during the whole five months of his holiday, even at Kissingen, but particularly at Varzin, where he had had to endure great pain. It was his old trouble.

He then spoke of the elections, and stated that in certain circumstances he would retire, as he had already intimated to the Emperor. “The centre of gravity has changed,” he continued. “The Progressist and Secessionist Jews, with their money, now form the Centre. At first I was not in favour of this agitation (for Stöcker as an Anti-Semite). It was inconvenient to me, and they went too far. Now, however, I am glad that the Court Chaplain has been elected. He is an energetic, fearless, and resolute man, and he cannot be muzzled. The elections have shown that the German Philistine still lives, and allows himself to be frightened and led astray by fine speeches and lies. He will not hear of the protection of labour against the foreigner, nor of insurance against accident and old age, nor of any reduction of school and poor rates, but wants direct taxation to be increased. Well, he can have that, but not while I am Chancellor.”

“Do you seriously mean that, Serene Highness?” I asked. “I believe they have only nibbled at the democratic bait just as they did formerly.”

“It may be that they do not quite know what they want. But they have taken this course at the elections, their representatives vote against me, and, in order to govern I must have a majority—which I cannot find under these conditions. In case of necessity it might be possible to manage with a coalition of Conservatives and Clericals and such like, but the Centre Party has been against us all through the elections, and there is no trusting them. Folly and ingratitude on all sides! I am made the target for every party and group, and they do everything they can to harass me, and would like me to serve as a whipping-boy for them. But when I disappear they will not know which way to turn, as none of them has a majority or any positive views and aims. They can only criticise and find fault—always say No. You are right in saying that they have turned the people’s heads with their fine phrases and lies. They make out that I am in favour of reaction, and want to restore the old régime. If I can get my monopoly, tobacco will cost three to five marks a pound, but cigars will be three times as dear as they are now. They have frightened the people by reviving the old stories of the past, Junker rule, the corvée, territorial jurisdiction, and even the jus primæ noctis, as, for instance, in Holstein and Lauenburg. There the Danish Kings had allowed all the ancient institutions to remain—unadulterated mediævalism. The Junkers ruled, and were decorated with the Order of the Elephant. They took all the best posts as if they had inherited them. They held the most remunerative offices up to ten thousand thalers a year, or at least four to five thousand thalers; and yet they neither did nor could do anything except pocket fees and impose heavy fines. They farmed the domains among themselves, on the lowest valuations, and lived on the fat of the land. When I came there the people were obliged to drink the abominable beer which the Junkers brewed on their estates, and no one could purchase a piece of ground because they did not wish the population to exceed two thousand to the square (German) mile. There the people still remember all this misrule, and emissaries of the Progressists and Secessionists—who are just the same—threaten them with its revival, and warn them against me. I am represented as desiring to restore that state of things, yet the contrary is the case, and it was I alone who abolished it.”

I reminded him of the homage of the Estates in Lauenburg, Bülow’s anxiety respecting the maintenance of the Compact of the nobility, and the scene in the Ratzeburg Cathedral, asking if that was a correct account of the incident. He then related it to me once more, the narrative agreeing in all important particulars with that already given. Returning to the agitation that preceded the elections, he continued as follows: “They do not, however, even believe what they preach. They hate and slander me because I am a Junker and not a Professor, and because I have been a Minister for twenty years. That has lasted too long for them—hence their vexation. They would like to come to power themselves, and form a Government. But that is mere covetousness, and not ability, and if I were to make way for them they would be desperately embarrassed, and would recognise that they could do nothing. I was born a Junker, but my policy was not that of the Junkers. I am a Royalist in the first place, and then a Prussian and a German. I will defend my King and the monarchy against revolution, both overt and covert, and I will establish and leave behind me a strong and healthy Germany. To me the parties are a matter of indifference. I am also not a Conservative in the sense of the Conservative party. My entire past as a Minister is evidence of that. They saw that in 1873 in the question of the Inspection of Schools Bill, when they turned their backs upon me, attacked me in their papers, and wrote me absurd letters.”

He took from the shelves near him a copy of a letter with which he had disposed of an old gentleman in Pomerania (Senfft-Pilsach), who had at that time warned him to reflect and pray. This letter, which he read to me, directed attention, inter alia, to the Psalms, chapter 12, verses 3 and 4: “The Lord shall cut off all flattering lips, and the tongue that speaketh proud things: who have said, with our tongue will we prevail; our lips are our own: who is lord over us?” He then returned to the last elections, and observed: “The defectiveness of our institutions is shown by the credulity of the electors. It may come to this, that we shall some day have to say of the German Constitution, after all attempts at government and reform under it have failed, as Schwarzenberg said at Olmütz: ‘This arrangement has not stood the test.’ But that must not be printed now. It is only for yourself.... They have now invented another calumny. They take advantage of my attachment to the Emperor, and pretend that I am clinging to office, that I am devoured by the love of power. It may turn out differently, however, and I may say to them: ‘Here you have it! Now let us see you govern!’ That, however, can only be after a division on some important question, not on the electoral returns. The Emperor is half inclined to try it and let me go, if only for one session. Things cannot go on as they are much longer. Of course, I am not going to desert the Emperor; it would be unfair to leave the old man in the lurch. But I cannot renounce my convictions, and I will not have a return to the period of conflict. I demand more appreciation and better treatment.”

Returning once more to the statement that the Liberal parties had been guilty of gross misrepresentation during the last election, he added that they had at the same time set the followers of the Government a good example by their excellent organisation, energy, and self-sacrifice. “Many people on our side, such as Herzog, for instance, have also given a great deal of money,” he said; “but the Progressists have done more. They had all the treasure of the Hebrews at their disposal, and were at the same time thoroughly drilled and well organised.”

“And now,” he asked, “have I anything else for you? Unruh has published various things that should be refuted.” He took up the October number of the sixth year’s issue of the Deutsche Revue, which lay before him, and continued: “He maintains that he has written for historians, but he obviously intended to influence the elections. A great deal of it is erroneous, other portions are electioneering lies, and some parts require to be supplemented. Here, for instance, on page 9, he states that while I was still a member of Parliament I had a conversation with him which I concluded with the words: ‘Now I tell you, if your party is victorious, you shall take me under your wing, and if my side gets the upper hand I will do as much for you. Shake hands on it!’ This offer was actually made. And curiously enough, a similar proposal was made to me by d’Ester, the Radical member of Parliament. In this case, however, I declined, and said: ‘If your party wins, life will no longer be worth living, and if we have the upper hand, then hanging shall be the order of the day—but with all politeness, up to the very foot of the gallows.’”

He turned over the leaves of the Revue, and continued: “There is no foundation whatever for the statement that the Opposition was not aware during the years 1862 to 1866 that I had a strong anti-Austrian policy in view. Besides, it is clear from Unruh’s own ‘Memoirs’ that they were fully informed respecting this policy, and only offered opposition through hatred to me, the Junker, and in consequence of their own dogmatism. Here, on page 11, it is stated that shortly after the outbreak of the Franco-Austrian War in 1859, he had an interview with me at the Hotel Royal, when I said to him that for Prussia to come to the assistance of Austria would be an act of political suicide. I had entirely lost my sympathy for Austria. If we did not succeed in driving Austria out of Germany proper, and if she kept the upper hand here, then our Kings would once more be mere Electors and vassals of the Hapsburgs. There could be no doubt as to the attitude of the individual German Governments in case of a crisis. With the exception perhaps of a few of the minor States that fell within the sphere of Prussian influence, all of them, if forced to make a choice, would decide in favour of Austria. Prussia would, therefore, be isolated, but there were circumstances in which she might have the entire German people as her allies.... Surely that was plain speaking, and it ought not to have been difficult afterwards to recognise the connection between such language and the increase of the army. They would not see it, however.... On page 13 is another proof that they knew what I had in view: ‘When the King went to Baden-Baden, accompanied by the Ministers Von Auerswald and Von Schleinitz, Bismarck followed him, evidently with the object of continuing his efforts to prevent assistance being rendered to Austria.’ And on the same page we read: ‘There is another circumstance which strikes one as an important piece of evidence to show that Bismarck’s anti-Austrian policy, in so far as Austrian influence in Germany was concerned, did not originate in 1859, but was of older date. After 1866, speaking in the House of Parliament to the former Landrath of the Teltower district, I related to him my conversation with Bismarck in 1859, whereupon he told me that Bismarck had expressed the same anti-Austrian views to him in 1854, and frankly confessed his anti-Austrian policy. It was not until 1866, that is to say, twelve years later, that it was practically applied. Bismarck had therefore kept this plan of driving Austria out of Germany before him all that time, and had resolutely pursued it. This is of some importance in forming an opinion upon the period of conflict.’ That is certainly correct. And is it possible that what that Landrath in 1854 and Unruh in 1859 ascertained from me personally had not also come to the knowledge of the others and been present to their minds when they—the Liberals—fought against me with the utmost violence from 1862 to 1866?”

The Chancellor turned over a few further pages, and then continued: “With regard to the situation in the autumn of 1862, Unruh was convinced (page 15) that ‘if Bismarck desired to put an end to dualism in Germany, it was obviously impossible to do so without a war with Austria, and that for this purpose it was necessary to make the Prussian army as strong as possible.’ That is therefore what I have already told you. In October (page 16), during a general meeting of the National Union at Coburg, he communicated the conversation of 1859 to a confidential circle. He writes: ‘I told my old Prussian and my new German friends that they were quite mistaken in regarding Bismarck as a simple Reactionary or indeed as an instrument of reaction. He was certainly not a Liberal, but he had quite different ideas and plans in his head to those entertained by Manteuffel and his colleagues.’ The gentlemen were in doubt, and wanted to wait and see how I acted. In 1863 they would appear to have acquired the conviction (page 18) that I had given up my schemes of foreign policy, and was now nothing more than a reactionary Minister—of foreign policy, because (as they inferred by a most extraordinary process of reasoning) in the interval there had been in domestic affairs political persecution, measures against Liberal officials, restrictions on the liberty of the press, and attacks upon the freedom of speech in Parliament. But what in the world had that to do with my foreign policy, and the belief in my anti-Austrian schemes? Moreover, on the next page, one ascertains that at this period Unruh & Co. had received an assurance from a trustworthy source that I had a struggle with the Austrians in view. The writer of the ‘Memoirs’ reports: ‘Seidel, who was at that time Chief Burgomaster of Berlin, made me a communication which he said came from the Military Cabinet, of which General von Manteuffel was the head. According to this communication either Manteuffel or some one who was in intimate relations with him had said that Bismarck was exceptionally well fitted for the task of stamping out the Opposition in Parliament, and that when he had succeeded in doing that and the military organisation was secured, he must be set aside as he would otherwise bring about a war with Austria, and would use our increased military forces for that purpose. A conflict with Austria and a successful war against her would again drive the Conservative party from office. In order to keep the Conservatives in power it was necessary that Prussia should remain on good terms with Austria, and for that purpose they should even, if necessary, make concessions. This statement (Unruh goes on to say) looked highly probable. General Manteuffel was known as the head of the extreme Conservative or so-called Austrian party at the Prussian Court, and was much esteemed in Vienna. Bismarck had given frequent expression to his anti-Austrian plans even before he became Premier, and had indeed submitted them to the King himself. If Bismarck were to bring about a compromise with Parliament, and to conclude a peace with the popular representatives, his services, in the opinion of the Manteuffel party, would be of no further use, and he ought then to go. It would be quite different if in spite of the violent struggle with Parliament, he succeeded in carrying through the military organisation scheme. So long as the conflict with the popular representatives continued, he remained indispensable, his value increasing with the fierceness of the struggle.’