On going to the Chancellor’s room to inform him of the result of my inquiries, I found that he was little better off than myself in the way of sleeping accommodation. He had passed the night on a mattress on the floor with his revolver by his side, and he was working at a little table which was hardly large enough to rest his two elbows on. The apartment was almost bare of furniture and there was not a sofa or armchair, &c. He, who for years past had so largely influenced the history of the world, and in whose mind all the great movements of our time were concentrated and being shaped anew, had hardly a place on which to lay his head; while stupid Court parasites rested from their busy idleness in luxurious beds, and even Monsieur Stieber managed to provide for himself a more comfortable resting-place than our Master.
On this occasion I saw a letter that had fallen into our hands. It came from Paris, and was addressed to a French officer of high rank. From this communication it appeared that little hope was entertained of further successful resistance, and just as little of the maintenance of the dynasty. The writer did not know what to expect or desire for the immediate future. The choice seemed to lie between a Republic without republicans, and a Monarchy without monarchists. The republicans were a feeble set and the monarchists were too selfish. There was great enthusiasm about the army, but nobody was in a hurry to join it and assist in repelling the enemy.
The Chief again said that attention should be called to the services of the Saxons at Gravelotte. “The small black fellows should in particular be praised. Their own newspapers have expressed themselves very modestly, and yet the Saxons were exceptionally gallant. Try to get some details of the excellent work they did on the 18th.”
They were very busy in the office in the meantime. Councillors and Secretaries were writing and deciphering at full pressure, sealing despatches at the lights stuck into the champagne-bottle-candlesticks, and all around portfolios and documents, waterproofs and shoe-brushes, torn papers and empty envelopes, were strewn about in picturesque confusion. Orderlies, couriers and attendants came and went. Every one was talking at the same time, and was too occupied to pay the least attention to his neighbours. Abeken was particularly active in rushing about between the improvised table and the messengers, and his voice was louder than ever. I believe that this morning his ready hand turned out a fresh document every half hour; at least, one heard him constantly pushing back his chair and calling a messenger. In addition to all this noise came the incessant tramp, tramp, tramp of the soldiers, the rolling of the drums and the rattle of the carts over the pavement. In this confusion it was no light task to collect one’s thoughts and to carry out properly the instructions received, but with plenty of good will it could be done.
After dinner, at which the Chancellor and some of the Councillors were not present, as they dined with the King, I took a walk with Willisch to the chapel of St. Anne on the top of the hill. There we found a number of our countrymen, soldiers belonging to the Freiberg Rifle Battalion, at supper under a tree. They have been engaged in the battle of the 18th. I tried to obtain some particulars of the fight, but could not get much more out of them than that they had given it with a will to the Frenchmen.
By the side of the chapel a pathway led between a row of trees to a delightful prospect, whence we could see at our feet the little town, and beyond it to the north and east an extensive plain, with stubble fields, villages, steeples, groups of trees and stretches of wood, and to the south and west a forest that spread out to the horizon, changing from dark green to the misty blue of the far distance. This plain is intersected by three roads, one of which goes direct to Varennes. On this road not far from the town a Bavarian regiment was stationed, whose camp fires added a picturesque note to the scene. In the distance to the right was a wooded hill with the village of Faucoix, while the small town of Montfaucon was visible further off. The second road, more towards the east, leads to Verdun. Still further to the right, not far from a camp of Saxon troops, was the road to Bar le Duc, on which we noticed a detachment of soldiers. We caught the glint of their bayonets in the evening sunshine and heard the sound of their drums softened by the distance.
Here we remained a good while gazing at this pleasing picture, which in the west was glowing with the light of the setting sun, and watching the shadows of the mountain spread slowly over the fields until all was dark. On our way back we again looked in at the church of St. Didier, in which some Hessians were now quartered. They lay on straw in the choir and before the altar, and lit their pipes at the lamps which burned before the sanctuary—without, however, intending any disrespect, as they were decent, harmless fellows.
On Sunday, August 28th, we were greeted with a dull grey sky and a soft steady rain that reminded one of the weather experienced by Goethe not far from here in September, 1792, during the days preceding and following the artillery engagement at Valmy. At the Chief’s request I took General Sheridan a copy of the Pall Mall Gazette, and afterwards tried to hunt up some Saxons who could give me particulars of the battle of the 18th. At length I found an officer of the Landwehr, a landed proprietor named Fuchs-Nordhof, from Moeckern, near Leipzig. He was not able to add much to what I knew. The Saxons had fought principally at Sainte Marie aux Chênes and Saint Privat, and protected the retreat of the guards, who had fallen into some disorder. The Freiberg Rifles took the position held by the French at the point of the bayonet without firing a shot. The Leipzig Regiment (the 107th) in particular had lost a great many men and nearly all its officers. That was all he could tell me, except that he confirmed the news as to Krausshaar’s death.
When the Minister got up we were again provided with plenty of work. Our cause was making excellent progress. I was in a position to telegraph that the Saxon cavalry had routed the 12th Chasseurs at Voussières and Beaumont. I was informed (and was at liberty to state) that we held to our determination to compel France to a cession of territory, and that we should conclude peace on no other conditions.
The arguments in support of this decision were given in the following article which was sanctioned by the Chief:—