Tuesday, January 10th.—Earth and sky are full of snow. A shot is only to be heard now and again from our batteries, or from the forts. Count Bill is here, and General von Manteuffel calls at 1 o’clock. They are passing through on their way to the army that is to operate against Bourbaki in the south-east under Manteuffel. During the afternoon I telegraph twice to London reporting the retreat of Chanzy at Le Mans, with the loss of a thousand men who were made prisoners, and Werder’s victorious resistance at Villersexel to a superior French force advancing to the relief of Belfort.
The first subject mentioned at dinner is the bombardment. The Chief holds that most of the Paris forts are of little importance, except perhaps Mont Valérien—“Not much more than the redoubts at Düppel.” That is to say the moats are not very deep, and formerly the walls were also weak. The conversation then turns on the International League of Peace and its connection with social democracy as shown by the fact that Karl Marx, who is now living in London, has been appointed President of the German branch. Bucher describes Marx as an intelligent man with a good scientific education and the real leader of the international labour movement. With reference to the League of Peace the Chief says that its efforts are all of an equivocal character, and that its aims are something very different to peace. It is a cloak for communism. “But,” he concludes, “certain august personages have even now no idea of that. Foreign countries and peace!” In this connection he referred to the influence and attitude of Queen Augusta.
Count Bill, according to the Chief, “looks from a distance like an old staff officer, he is so stout.” He was very lucky in being selected to accompany Manteuffel. Of course, it would only be a temporary billet, but he would see a great deal of the war. “For his age he has a good opportunity to learn something. That was impossible for one of us at eighteen. I should have been born in 1795 to have taken part in the campaign of 1813.” “Nevertheless since the battle of—(I could not catch the name, but he referred apparently to an engagement in the Huguenot War) there was not one of my ancestors who did not draw the sword against France. My father and three of his brothers were engaged against Napoleon I. Then my grandfather fought at Rossbach; my great-grandfather against Louis XIV., and his father against the same King in the little war on the Rhine in 1672 or 1673. Then several of us fought on the imperial side in the Thirty Years’ War, others, it is true, joining the Swedes. And finally still another was amongst the Germans who fought as mercenaries on the Huguenot side. One—there is a picture of him at Schönhausen with his children—was an original character. I still have a letter from him to his brother-in-law in which he says, ‘The cask of Rhine wine costs me eighty reichsthalers. If my worthy brother-in-law considers that too dear I will, so God spares me, drink it myself.’ And another time: ‘If my worthy brother-in-law maintains so-and-so, I hope, so God preserves me, to come into closer contact with his person than will be pleasant to him.’ And again in another place: ‘I have spent 12,000 reichsthalers on the regiment, but I hope, if God spares me, to make as much out of it in time.’ The economies referred to consisted probably in drawing pay for men who were on furlough or who only existed on paper. Certainly the commander of a regiment was better off at that time than now.” Some one observed that was also the rule at a later period, so long as regiments were recruited, paid, and clad by the colonels and hired by the Princes, and possibly the same thing still happened in other countries. The Chief: “Yes, in Russia for instance, in the great cavalry regiments in the Southern provinces which often have as many as sixteen squadrons. There the colonel had, and doubtless yet has other sources of income. A German once told me, for instance, that on a new colonel taking over the command of a regiment—I believe it was in Kursk or Woronesch—the peasants of this wealthy district came to him with waggons full of straw and hay, and begged the ‘little father’ to be gracious enough to accept them. ‘I did not know what they wanted,’ said the colonel, ‘and so I told them to be off and leave me in peace. But the ‘little father’ ought to be fair, they urged, his predecessor had been satisfied with that much, and they could not give more, as they were poor people. At length I got tired of it, particularly as they became very pressing and went down on their knees entreating me to accept it, and I had them bundled out of doors. But then others came with loads of wheat and oats. Then I understood what was meant, and took everything as my predecessor had done, and when the first lot returned with more hay I told them that what they had brought before was enough and they could take back the rest. And thus I secured an annual sum of 20,000 roubles, as I charged the Government for the hay and oats required by the regiment.’ He related that quite frankly and unabashed in a drawing-room in St. Petersburg, and I was the only one who was surprised at it.” “But what could he have done to the peasants?” asked Delbrück. “He himself could have done nothing,” replied the Chief, “but he might have ruined them in another way. He only required not to forbid the soldiers to take what they liked from them.”
Manteuffel was again spoken of, and somebody mentioned that he had broken his leg at Metz, and had to be carried on the battle-field. Manteuffel was greatly surprised that we had not known this, and the Minister remarked that he must certainly have thought us very badly informed as to the incidents of the war. Later on the Chief said: “I remember how I sat with him and —— (I did not catch the name) on the stones outside the Church at Blekstein. The King came up, and I proposed that we should greet him like the three witches in Macbeth: ‘Hail, Thane of Lauenburg! Hail, Thane of Kiel! Hail, Thane of Schleswig!’ It was when I was negotiating the Treaty of Gastein with Blome. I then played quinze for the last time in my life. Although I had not played then for a long time, I gambled recklessly, so that the others were astounded. But I knew what I was at. Blome had heard that quinze gave the best opportunity of testing a man’s character, and he was anxious to try the experiment on me. I thought to myself, I’ll teach him. I lost a few hundred thalers, for which I might well have claimed reimbursement from the State as having been expended on his Majesty’s service. But I got round Blome in that way, and made him do what I wanted. He took me to be reckless, and yielded.”
The conversation then turned upon Berlin, some one having remarked that it was from year to year assuming more the appearance of a great capital, also in its sentiments and way of thinking, a circumstance which to some extent reacted on its Parliamentary representatives. “They have greatly altered during the last five years,” said Delbrück. “That is true,” said the Chief; “but in 1862, when I first had to deal with those gentlemen, they recognised what a hearty contempt I entertained for them, and they have never become friends with me again.”
The Jews then came to be discussed, and the Minister wished to know how it was that the name Meier was so common amongst them. That name was after all of German origin, and in Westphalia it meant a landed proprietor, yet formerly the Jews owned no land. I submitted that the word was of Hebrew origin and occurred in the Old Testament and also in the Talmud, being properly Meïr and akin to “Or,” i.e., light, brilliance, whence the signification of Enlightened, Brilliant, Radiant. The Chief then inquired the meaning of Kohn, a name very common amongst them also. I said it signified Priest, and was originally Kohen From Kohen it became Kohn, Kuhn, Cahen, and Kahn. Kohn and Kahn were also occasionally transformed into Hahn, a remark which caused some amusement as it probably reminded the company of the “Presshahn,” who is at the head of the Berlin Literary Bureau. “I am of opinion,” continued the Minister, “that to prevent mischief, the Jews will have to be rendered innocuous by cross breeding. The results are not bad.” He then mentioned some noble houses, Lynars, Stirums, Gusserows: “All very clever, decent people.” He then reflected for a while and, omitting one link from the chain of thought, probably the marriage of distinguished Christian ladies to rich or talented Israelites, he proceeded: “It is better the other way on. One ought to put a Jewish mare to a Christian stallion of German breed. The money must be brought into circulation again, and the race is not at all bad. I do not know what I shall one day advise my sons to do.”
I spent the whole time after dinner at work, principally reading despatches. The Rumanian (Prince Charles) has sent the Chancellor a letter, written in his own hand, requesting advice in his difficulties. He seems to be in the greatest perplexity, and the Powers will not help him. England and Austria are at least indifferent; the Porte is inclined to look upon the unification of the Principalities as to its interests; France is now of no account; the Tsar Alexander is, it is true, well disposed to Prince Charles but will not interfere; and intervention on the part of Germany, who has no practical interests in Rumania, is not to be expected. Therefore, if the Prince cannot help himself out of his difficulties, he had better retire before he is obliged to. Such was the counsel addressed to him by the Chief through Keudell. Beust has been informed of this. It would appear that Beust’s despatch in reply to the announcement of the approaching union of South Germany with the North, shows a new departure in his political views, and it is possible that even under him satisfactory relations may be developed and maintained between the two newly-organised Powers, Germany and Austria-Hungary. He reported that a new comic paper, Der Bismarck, was being founded in Vienna, and that he would do everything in his power to prevent this abuse of the name. The Chief has recently addressed a communication to the King in which he requests: (1) That the telegrams of the General Staff before being despatched to Berlin should be submitted to him and his approval obtained, as they might have political bearings—as, for example, in the case of the shells that fell in the Luxemburg Gardens. (2) That he should receive full information of the course of military operations, instead of being indebted for detailed particulars to the newspapers and private persons. Subalterns and members of the Ambulance Corps were kept better informed than he.
At 10.30 P.M. the Chief comes down to tea, at which Count Bill also joins us. Abeken returns from Court and brings the news that the fortress of Péronne, with a garrison of 3,000 men, has capitulated. The Chief, who was just looking through the Illustrirte Zeitung, sighed and exclaimed: “Another 3,000! If one could only drown them in the Seine—or at least their Commander, who has broken his word of honour!”
This led the conversation to the subject of the numerous prisoners in Germany, and Holstein said it would be a good idea to hire them out to work on the Strousberg railway. “Or,” said the Chief, “if the Tsar could be induced to settle them in military colonies beyond the Caucasus. It is said to be a very fine country. This mass of prisoners will really form a difficulty for us after the peace. The French will thus have an army at once, and one fresh from a long rest. But there will really be no alternative. We shall have to give them back to Napoleon, and he will require 200,000 men as a Pretorian Guard to maintain himself.” “Does he then really expect to restore the Empire?” asked Holstein. “Oh, very much,” replied the Chief, “extremely, quite enormously much. He thinks of it day and night, and the people in England also.”
Holstein then related how certain people belonging to the English Embassy had behaved very unbecomingly outside the place where the French prisoners are confined in Spandau, and had fared badly in consequence. Cockerell was knocked down and beaten black and blue, so that he afterwards looked “quite as if he had been painted.” Loftus did not at first want to intervene, but was ultimately induced by the other diplomats to enter a complaint. “Did they give this Cockerell a sound hiding?” asked Count Bill. “Oh, certainly,” replied Holstein, “and Miss —— (name escaped me), who tried to interfere on his behalf, also received a few blows.” “Well, I am glad Cockerell got a proper dressing,” said the Chief, “it will do him good. I am sorry for the lady. But it is a pity that Loftus” (the British Ambassador) “himself did not get thrashed on the occasion, as we should then be rid of him.”