In the course of his remarks Bucher mentioned as “not inconceivable” that the Prince might return one day to his old place in Berlin.—He did not give his reasons for thinking so. In the absence of such reasons, and they would have to be very good ones, I cannot believe in such a possibility, so far as he personally is concerned. It is not impossible, after the ill-success of the present régime, that the spirit of his policy may return to the palace in the Wilhelmstrasse.
We were not destined to meet again. Bucher died on the 12th of October, 1892, after he had lived away from the Prince for a few months. I gave a sketch of his life and character in the Illustrirte Zeitung of the 29th of October, which was accompanied by a good portrait.
Next spring I could find no rest until I greeted the Prince once more; and I was permitted to do so. I arrived at Friedrichsruh at 1.30 P.M. on the 1st of May. Chrysander and a servant waited for me at the station, and conducted me to the house where I was lodged in room No. 4. After a snack, which took the place of lunch, I went for a walk with Chrysander, who then showed me in one of the ground floor rooms a number of presents and beautiful addresses from Costa Rica and California, which had come to the Prince on his birthday a month previously. Before dinner I met the old gentleman in the coffee-room, where hung the portraits of his ancestors. He has changed very little. I must sit down with him on the sofa, and am “Büschlein” as before. Had I written anything lately, and what about? Complained of faceache, “which, however, comes no doubt from the sharp atmosphere out of doors during my walk this morning.”—At dinner, at which we were joined by the Princess, Countess Rantzau, Dr. Schweninger, Count Herbert and von Kardorff, member of the Reichstag, my place is again next the Prince on his right. As is almost invariably the case on such occasions, he is amiable, lively and good-humoured. (...)
May 2nd, at 11 a.m.—Schweninger called at my room as he was going away. We spoke once more about Bucher, whom he praised highly. Long before the 15th of March the doctor had known, “through his connections at Court” of the Emperor’s intention to get rid of Bismarck, and had informed the latter. At 12 o’clock Chrysander summoned me to the Prince, whom I met alone in the dining-room, where he was waiting for me. I first handed him back the three metallographic copies, which I should get published in some weekly paper as they were still of interest. After I had turned the conversation on Bucher I mentioned his mission to Madrid and the letter to Prim, giving him clearly to understand that I had been fully informed by my deceased friend of every detail of his Spanish journey, and also knew that at one time he wished to deny the letter to Prim and the trap set for Napoleon, which he had baited afresh by condensing the Ems despatch. But to repudiate that would be to remove the finest leaf from his wreath of laurels, and so on. These details recalled to him the whole circumstances, and he no longer denied anything. He brought the conversation to a close with the words: “We will talk it over some other time. Of course you will remain for a while yet, and I must now speak to Kardorff.” No opportunity however occurred of returning to the subject. (...)
After dinner in the evening, Kommerzienrath Kröner, over our coffee, recommended the Prince to pay an early visit to Leipzig. The Chief Burgomaster Georgi had told him that they longed to see the Prince there, and that he would be received with universal enthusiasm. I considered it right to tone down the effect of this statement by pointing out that, in addition to sincere but silent veneration for the Prince, there was also a great deal of loud and obtrusive fustian and party self-seeking, whose sole object was its own advancement; that, together with a certain understanding for Bismarck’s methods and aims, there was also a great deal of unreason; and that the great lights of the National Liberal persuasion, who held the upper hand at Leipzig, would think less of manifesting their gratitude to him than of once more giving prominence to themselves and their party, and gaining popularity for future elections to the Municipal Council or the Reichstag. Our Geheimer Kommerzienrath was obviously unable to appreciate such an unbusinesslike argument. What I said was, however, perfectly true.
May 3rd.—Took a walk in the morning. In the garden, near the road leading to the station, was a block of sandstone with the inscription: “From Grotenburg, near the site of the monument to Arminius in the Teutoburger Wald,” which was recently presented to Bismarck “by a German,” a bookbinder of Detmold. He doubtless knows no more than the learned themselves where the Teutoburger Wald was really situated, but he certainly knows better than many of the learned that Bismarck is the founder of the German Empire. In addition to the Chief and his wife and daughter, only Chrysander and myself were present at lunch. Conversation: On the newspaper report that Rottenburg was about to pay the Prince a visit, of which, however, the latter knew nothing, and which is all the more improbable, as Rottenburg is just engaged to Miss Phelps, the daughter of the American Minister. The Chief mentioned that Mr. Phelps wrote to him recently, and asked for an expression of opinion on the World’s Fair at Chicago—of course a favourable one. The Prince, however, does not seem inclined to do this. He said: “If I were to give an honest expression of my view it would not be what he requires. These exhibitions are of little value for industry and art, and are more for the benefit of hotel keepers and such people. They are good for those who feel bored, who want a new sensation, new amusements, and who have money enough to gratify their inclinations and afford themselves such pleasures.” The most gracious and his intimates were then discussed—a General von Versen is one of the favourites. The conversation then turned on the diplomatic world, and first on Marschall, who has little capacity, but has been recommended by his Grand Duke and a relative (or an official); on von Schweinitz, who has nine children, and also on “Sardanapaul” Hatzfeldt. The Chief afterwards referred to Maximilian Harden (Witkowski), whom he praised as “a quiet unpretentious man of great tact; not at all like a Jew—and also not like my intimate friend Blum,” he added, laughingly, as he looked towards the Princess. On the mention of the Grand Duke of Baden I reminded him of his letter with the words, “You cannot govern without Bismarck,” and of the letter written by the Crown Prince Frederick from Portofino in which he described his son. The Chief said that he no longer had the original, and asked me to send him a copy of it. “But not direct through the post, and also not to Dr. Chrysander,” suggested Countess Rantzau. “No, he will also be watched. Send it to Baron Merck, Sachsenwald bei Reinbeck; I shall then get it safely.” I further referred to the King of Saxony and his regard for Bismarck, and I mentioned that a doctor, who at the time acted as Physician in Ordinary to the King at Pillnitz, told me how, immediately after the Prince’s dismissal, the King travelled alone by night from Pillnitz to Berlin, probably for the purpose of a conference with the Emperor or Caprivi.
On Bötticher’s name coming up after the diplomatists, the Prince placed him even below Caprivi, and concluded as follows: “Moreover, he is under petticoat government.” Of Marschall he said: “He writes bad French, even in official documents, speaking for instance in a recent communication to Italy of ‘l’empereur et l’empereuse.’”
May 4th.—At lunch we were joined by Baroness Merck and a professor from Giessen, who plied the Prince with all sorts of questions, and whom we shall here entitle Herr Y. In the course of this inquisition we ascertained, among other things, that “Dutken Sommer” (in Hesekiel’s book), whom I had hitherto taken to be a countrywoman, is in reality of the masculine gender, and the son of the Pastor at Reinfeld. The Prince said he was blind, and somewhat of a simpleton, while the Princess described him as musical. Y. hastily jotted that and other facts down in his pocket book while discussing his cutlet and omelette. Phelps, Chicago, and the Prince’s opinion of these “World Fairs” once more. The Chief then spoke of Prince and Princess Reuss at Vienna, and of the position she took up towards the notorious rescript. (“The Uriah Letters.”) She said: “My husband is a (public) servant. I am not.” Somebody brought up Ahlwardt’s name, and the Prince said: “He too has one merit. He brings a change into the commonplace tediousness of the Reichstag.” He observed with regard to the good reception accorded to the Emperor by the Swiss: “They do nothing gratis. We shall be made to pay for it with a higher customs duty.” The professor informed us that he was a vegetarian, and that it was an illness which had converted him. I mentioned the approaching advent of the editor of the Kladderadatsch and his friend Jacobsen, praising both of them highly. After a glance at his pocket book, Y. inquired about the attitude of France in 1866, mentioning Moustier. The Prince corrected his pronunciation of the name, and then went on to say: “Once in the course of conversation he reminded me in a threatening way of Jena. I said to him, ‘If you talk to me of Jena I will talk to you of Leipzig.’ I might also have mentioned Waterloo. Moustier then complained to Manteuffel, and he reported the matter to the King, who, however, said that I had acted rightly.” Coming in the further course of the conversation to speak of the policy which was at that time pursued by the Italians, he said: “La Marmora was a scoundrel, and was paid by France, but Govone was a respectable man.” He gave his reasons for both opinions in detail. The Prince then added, having perhaps noticed the eavesdropping publicist: “I would not have said that to Sybel if I had had any idea that he would publish it—a remark which applies to other matters mentioned to other good people, such as my worthy friend Blum, whose statements are very indiscreet and mostly false.”
At 4 P.M. the professor came to my room, “in order to become better acquainted with his neighbour”; that is, thought I to myself, to pump me too for his own purposes, de omnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis, according to all the rules of the art. And so it proved. He suggested a walk, and I proposed that we should go to the mill on the Aue. We had not gone a hundred yards before he set to work as I had anticipated, with a hardihood which was only equalled by its many-sidedness. Truly a thirst for knowledge of the most naïve kind, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, although it was only two hours since he set eyes on me for the first time. As at lunch, the result was in each instance immediately committed to his pocket book. What a lingual pumping apparatus that was! Now here, now there, sounding and boring, screwing and sucking! First about myself, then as to Bucher, his character as an official and in social life, &c. The Prince’s turn came next, and after him the Princess, the sons, the daughter and the grandchildren. What did I think of Schweninger? How did I like Lange, who, by the way, also took lunch with us; in short, his inquiries, conducted with a peculiar thoroughness and charm, extended to everything upstairs and downstairs, chick and child, ad infinitum. I was even expected to give information respecting Baroness Merck. Had I observed at table that her eyes looked as if she had been crying, and that she sobbed a couple of times? And whether I knew or suspected why? In return he spontaneously revealed his own inner man unasked, and as a reward for my patience I ascertained a variety of things about himself, and also obtained some information which appeared to me to be of importance. He is to write an obituary of the Prince for the Kölnische Zeitung—now? He will publish an account of his visit to him—where? He had been to see him last year, if I rightly understood, at Varzin, and had been for a walk with him for nearly two hours. He is an intimate friend of Aegidi, whom, doubtless as a congenial soul, he praises to the skies, and who, he says, once gave him a document from the archives of the Foreign Office for perusal. He is a vocalist, and intends to sing something to the Princess, &c. I answered his questions, for the most part with an expression of regret at my ignorance, and where this was not possible with that description of truth which is alone expedient in the presence of embarrassing or dangerous curiosity: Sanheden ved modification, truth with modifications, as the Danes jestingly define lies. I took an opportunity before dinner to speak to Chrysander about this odd fish. He was, however, just on the point of fetching him to see the Prince. I thought to myself that Bucher ought to have postponed his death for a while. At dinner Y., who again diligently pumped the Prince for the benefit of his note-book, strongly urged him soon to pay a visit to South Germany and the Rhine, and held out a very tempting prospect there. The Chief, however, replied that, like Parson Primrose, he now preferred the journey from the brown bed into the blue to all others. “Were I to go, however,” he continued, “I should prepare a speech once for all and learn it by heart.” He added an experience of his at the time of the Erfurt Parliament: “There was one of them there who spoke often and well, and who, on one occasion, delivered a speech which I heard and liked. On my mentioning it to an acquaintance, however, he said: ‘Yes, but you should have heard it last year; it was much finer then!’”
May 5th.—In the morning a letter from my little Gretchen, with greetings to the dear Prince and the whole princely family. Y. called for me again and we took a walk through the wood along the road leading to Möhnsen. The octopus again applies a new sucker: he wants to know about the “Memoirs.” Had formerly on one occasion (I believe he said in 1891) seen the Prince over a pile of folio sheets. Could these have been the “Memoirs?” I did not know, but doubted it. “I did not wish to ask him,” observed the good creature. At lunch he cheerfully proceeded with the work of extracting information from the Chief. He had evidently turned a deaf ear to the indirect warning as to “indiscreet friends,” or considered that full-blown professors formed an exception.