Counts Waldersee and Lehndorff, and Lieutenant-General von Alvensleben (from Magdeburg) were amongst the Chief’s guests at dinner. Alvensleben told us the story of a so-called “Marl-Major” who was accustomed to attribute all sorts of occurrences to geognostic causes. He reasoned somewhat in this style: “It follows from the character and conduct of the Maid of Orleans that she could only have been born on a fertile marly soil, that she was fated to gain a victory in a limestone country, and to die in a sandstone district.”
Speaking of the barbarous way in which the French conducted the war, Alvensleben said that they had also fired upon a flag of truce at Toul. On the other hand, an officer who for a joke rode along the glacis had a friendly chat with the gentlemen on the walls. The question whether it would be possible to take Paris by storm in spite of its fortifications was answered in the affirmative by the military guests. General Alvensleben said: “A great city of that kind cannot be successfully defended if it is attacked by a sufficiently numerous force.” Count Waldersee wished to “see Babel utterly destroyed,” and brought forward arguments in favour of that measure with which I was immensely pleased. The Minister, however, replied: “Yes, that would be a very good thing, but it is impossible for many reasons. One of these is that numbers of Germans in Cologne and Frankfurt have considerable sums invested there.”
The conversation then turned upon our conquests in France and those still to be made. Alvensleben was in favour of keeping the country up to the Marne. Bismarck had another idea, which, however, he seemed to think it impossible to realise. “My ideal would be,” he said, “a kind of German colony, a neutral State of eight or ten million inhabitants, free from the conscription and whose taxes should flow to Germany so far as they were not required for domestic purposes. France would thus lose a district from which she draws her best soldiers, and would be rendered harmless. In the rest of France no Bourbon, no Orleans, and probably no Bonaparte, neither Lulu (the Prince Imperial) nor the fat Jerome, nor the old one. I did not wish for war in connection with the Luxemburg affair, as I knew that it would lead to six others. But we must now put an end to all this. However, we must not sell the bear’s skin before we have killed it. I confess I am superstitious in that respect.” “Never mind,” said Count Waldersee, “our bear is already badly hit.”
The Chief then again referred to the royal table and to the frugal manner in which food was doled out to the guests, his remarks being probably intended for Count Lehndorff, who was expected to repeat them. “We had cutlets there recently, and I could not take two, as there was only one apiece for us. Rabbit followed, and I debated with myself whether I should take a second portion, although I could easily have managed four. At length hunger overcame my politeness, and I seized a second piece, though I am sure I was robbing somebody else.”
The Chancellor then went on to speak of his sons. “I hope,” he said, “I shall be able to keep at least one of my youngsters—I mean Herbert, who is on his way to Germany. He got to feel himself quite at home in camp. Formerly he was apt to be haughty, but as he lay wounded at Pont à Mousson he was almost more friendly with the common troopers who visited him than with the officers.”
At tea we were told that in 1814 the King had his quarters in the same street where he now lives, next door to the house he occupies at present. The Chief seems to have spoken to him to-day about decorating Bavarian soldiers with the Iron Cross. The Minister said: “My further plan of campaign for his Majesty is that part of his escort should be sent on ahead. The country must be scoured by a company to the right and left of the road, and the Royal party must remain together. Pickets must be posted at stated intervals. The King approved when I told him that this had been done also in 1814. The Sovereigns did not drive on that occasion, but went on horseback, and Russian soldiers, twenty paces apart, lined the whole route.” Somebody suggested the possibility that peasants or franctireurs might fire at the King. “Certainly,” added the Chief, “and what makes it so important a point is that the personage in question, if he is ill or wounded or otherwise out of sorts, has only to say ‘Go back!’ and we must all of us go back.”
We left Commercy next day at noon, passing several military detachments and a number of encampments on our way. The measures of precaution mentioned by the Chief had been adopted. We were preceded by a squadron of uhlans and escorted by the Stabswache, which formed a bright picture of many colours, being recruited from the various cavalry regiments, such as green, red, and blue hussars, Saxon and Prussian dragoons, &c. The carriages of the Chancellor’s party followed close behind those of the King’s. For a long time we did not come across any villages. Then we passed through St. Aubin, and soon after came to a milestone by the roadside with the words “Paris 241 kilometres,” so that we were only a distance of some thirty-two German miles from Babel. We afterwards passed a long line of transport carts belonging to the regiments of King John of Saxony, the Grand Duke of Hesse, &c., which showed that we were now in the district occupied by the Crown Prince’s army.
Shortly afterwards we entered the small town of Ligny, which was thronged with Bavarian and other soldiers. We waited for about three-quarters of an hour in the market-place, which was crowded with all sorts of conveyances, while the Chief paid a visit to the Crown Prince. On our starting once more we met further masses of blue Bavarian infantry, some light horse collected round their camp fires, then a second squadron with a herd of cattle guarded by soldiers, and finally a third larger encampment within a circle of baggage waggons.
Bar le Duc, the largest town in which we have stayed up to the present, may have a population of some 15,000. The streets and squares presented a lively picture as we drove through, and we caught glimpses of curious female faces watching us through the blinds. On the arrival of the King the Bavarian band played “Heil dir im Siegerkranz.” He took up his quarters in the house occupied by the local branch of the Bank of France, in the Rue de la Banque. The Chancellor and his party lodged on the other side of the street, in the house of a M. Pernay, who had gone off leaving an old woman in charge.
Dr. Lauer, the King’s physician, dined with the Minister that evening. The Chief was very communicative as usual, and appeared to be in particularly good humour. He renewed his complaints as to the “short commons” at the royal table, evidently intending the doctor to repeat them to Count Puckler or Perponcher. During his visit at Ligny he had to take breakfast, which he said was excellent, with the Crown Prince and the Princes and chief officers of his suite. He had a seat near the fire, however, which was not quite to his taste, and otherwise it was in many ways less comfortable than in his own quarters. “There were too many Princes there for an ordinary mortal to be able to find a place. Amongst them was Frederick the Gentle (Friedrich der Sachte—Frederick VIII. of Schleswig-Holstein). He wore a Bavarian uniform, so that I hardly knew him at first. He looked somewhat embarrassed when he recognised me.” We also gathered from what the Chief said that Count Hatzfeldt was to act as a kind of Prefect while we remained here, a position for which probably his thorough knowledge of French and of the habits of the country had recommended him. We also heard that the headquarters might remain here for several days,—“as at Capua,” added the Count, laughing.