FROM THE FRONTIER TO GRAVELOTTE
In the preceding chapter I broke off my narrative at the French frontier. We recognised that we had crossed it by the notices posted in the villages, “Département de la Moselle.” The white roads were thronged with conveyances, and in every hamlet troops were billeted. In these hilly and partially wooded districts we saw small camps being pitched here and there. After about two hours’ drive we reached Forbach, which we passed through without stopping. In the streets through which we drove the signboards were almost entirely French, although the names were chiefly German. Some of the inhabitants who were standing at their doors greeted us in passing. Most of them, however, looked sulky, which, although it did not add to their beauty, was natural enough, as they had evidently plenty of soldiers to provide quarters for. The windows were all full of Prussians in blue uniforms. We thus jogged on, up hill and down dale, reaching Saint Avold about half-past four. Here we took up lodgings, Chancellor and all, with a M. Laity, at No. 301 Rue des Charrons. It was a one-storey house, but rather roomy, with a well-kept fruit and vegetable garden at the back. The proprietor, who was said to be a retired officer, and appeared to be well to do, had gone away with his wife the day before, leaving only a maid and an old woman, who spoke nothing but French. In half an hour we had fixed up our office and chosen our sleeping quarters. Work began without delay. As there was nothing to be done in my department, I tried to assist in deciphering the despatches, an operation which offers no particular difficulties.
At seven o’clock we dined with the Chancellor in a little room looking out on a small courtyard with some flower beds. The conversation at table was very lively, the Minister having most to say. He did not consider a surprise impossible, as he had satisfied himself during his walk that our outposts were only three-quarters of an hour from the town and very wide apart. He had asked at one post where the next was stationed, but the men did not know. He said: “While I was out I saw a man with an axe on his shoulder following close at my heels. I kept my hand on my sword, as one cannot tell in certain circumstances what may happen; but in any case I should have been ready first.” He remarked later on that our landlord had left all his cupboards full of underclothing, adding: “If this house should be turned into an ambulance hospital, his wife’s fine underlinen will be torn up for lint and bandages, and quite properly. But then they will say that Count Bismarck took the things away with him.”
We came to speak of the disposal of the troops in action. The Minister said that General Steinmetz had shown himself on that occasion to be self-willed and disobedient. “Like Vogel von Falkenstein, his habit of taking the law into his own hands will do him harm in spite of the laurels he won at Skalitz.”
There was cognac, red wine, and a sparkling Mainz wine on the table. Somebody mentioned beer, saying that probably we should be unable to obtain it. The Minister replied: “That is no loss! The excessive consumption of beer is deplorable. It makes men stupid, lazy and useless. It is responsible for the democratic nonsense spouted over the tavern tables. A good rye whiskey is very much better.”
I cannot now remember how or in what connection we came to speak about the Mormons. The Minister was surprised at their polygamy, “as the German race is not equal to so much—Orientals seem to be more potent.” He wondered how the United States could tolerate the existence of such a polygamous sect. The Count took this opportunity of speaking of religious liberty in general, declaring himself very strongly in favour of it. But, he added, it must be exercised in an impartial spirit. “Every one must be allowed to seek salvation in his own way. I shall propose that one day, and Parliament will certainly approve. As a matter of course, however, the property of the Church must remain with the old churches that acquired it. Whoever retires must make a sacrifice for his conviction, or rather his unbelief.” “People think little the worse of Catholics for being orthodox, and have no objection whatever to Jews being so. It is altogether different with Lutherans, however, and that church is constantly charged with a spirit of persecution, if it rejects unorthodox members. But it is considered quite in order that the orthodox should be persecuted and scoffed at in the press and in daily life.”
After dinner the Chancellor and Councillors took a walk in the garden from which a large building distinguished by a flag with the Geneva Cross was visible at a little distance to the right. We could see a number of nuns at the windows who were watching us through opera glasses. It was evidently a convent that had been turned into a hospital. In the evening one of the deciphering clerks expressed great anxiety as to the possibility of a surprise, and we discussed what should be done with the portfolios containing State papers and ciphers in such circumstances. I tried to reassure them, promising to do my utmost either to save or destroy the papers, should necessity arise.
There was no occasion for anxiety. The night passed quietly. Next morning as we were at lunch a green Feldjäger, or Royal Courier, arrived with dispatches from Berlin. Although such messengers usually make rapid progress, this one had not travelled any quicker than I had done in my fear to arrive too late. He left on Monday, the 8th of August, and had several times taken a special conveyance, yet he had spent nearly four days on the way, as it was now the 12th. I again assisted the Decipherers. Afterwards, while the Minister was with the King, I visited the large and beautiful town church with the Councillors, the chaplain showing us round. In the afternoon, while the Minister was out for a ride, we inspected the Prussian artillery park on a neighbouring height.
We dined at four, on the Chancellor’s return. He had ridden a long way in order to see his two sons, who were serving as privates in a regiment of dragoon guards, but found that the German cavalry had already pushed forward towards the upper reaches of the Moselle. He was in excellent spirits, evidently owing to the good fortune which continued to favour our cause. In the course of the conversation, which turned on mythology, the Chief said he could never endure Apollo, who flayed Marsyas out of conceit and envy, and slew the children of Niobe for similar reasons. “He is the genuine type of a Frenchman, one who cannot bear that another should play the flute better than, or as well as, himself.” Nor was Apollo’s manner of dealing with the Trojans to the Count’s taste. The straightforward Vulcan would have been his man, or, better still, Neptune—perhaps because of the Quos ego!—but he did not say.
After rising from table we had good news to telegraph to Berlin for circulation throughout the whole country, namely, that there were ten thousand prisoners in our hands on the 7th of August, and that a great effect had been produced on the enemy by the victory at Saarbrücken. Somewhat later we had further satisfactory particulars to send home. The Minister of Finance in Paris, evidently in consequence of the rapid advance of the German forces, had invited the French people to deposit their gold in the Bank of France instead of keeping it in their houses.