Something else led him to speak of his skill in shooting. He said that as a young man he could hit a sheet of paper with a pistol at a hundred yards, and had shot off the heads of ducks in the pond.
He then mentioned that he had again complained to Treskow of the “short commons at the Royal table,” at which Treskow pulled a long face. “But if I am to work well I must have sufficient food. I cannot make a proper peace if I do not get enough to eat and drink. That’s a necessity of my trade, and therefore I prefer to dine at home.”
The conversation then turned on the dead languages—I cannot now say how. “When I was in the first class at the high school,” he said, “I was able to write and speak Latin very well. I should now find it extremely difficult; and I have quite forgotten Greek. I cannot understand why people take so much trouble with these languages. It must be merely because learned men do not wish to lessen the value of what they have themselves so laboriously acquired.” I ventured to remind him of the mental discipline thus provided. The Chief replied, “Yes; but if you think Greek is a disciplina mentis, the Russian language is far better in that respect. It might be introduced instead of Greek—and it has immediate practical value in addition.”
We then spoke of the way in which the Schleswig-Holstein question was treated by the Bundestag in the fifties. Count Bismarck-Bohlen, who had come in in the meantime, remarked that those debates must have been dull enough to send every one to sleep. “Yes,” said the Chief, “in Frankfurt they slept over the negotiations with their eyes open. Altogether it was a sleepy and insipid crowd, and things only became endurable after I had added the pepper.” He then told us a delightful story about Count Rechberg, who was at that time Austrian Minister to the Bundestag. “On one occasion he said something to me which I was obliged to answer very roughly. He replied that unless I withdrew my words it would be a case of going out on to the Bockenheimer Haide (a place where it was customary to settle affairs of honour). ‘I never withdraw my words,’ said I, carelessly, ‘so we must settle it in that way, and it occurs to me that the garden down stairs would be a very suitable place. But in order that people may not think that I represent my King pistol in hand, without further ceremony I shall write down here the cause of our quarrel. After you have read it over you will sign it, and thus testify to its correctness. In the meantime there is one of our officers lodging here who will oblige me, and you can choose one of your own officers.’ I rang the bell and sent word to the officer, requesting him to call upon me; and then went on writing while Rechberg strode up and down the room—and gluck, gluck, gluck (here the Minister mimicked the act of drinking) he swallowed one glass of water after another. Of course not because he was afraid, but because he was considering whether he ought not first to ask permission of his Government. I quietly continued to write. The officer came and said he would gladly oblige me. I begged him to wait a moment. On my return Rechberg said he would think over the matter until morning, to which I agreed. As I did not hear from him next day, however, I sent the Mecklenburg Minister, old Oertzen, to deliver a formal challenge. Oertzen was told he was not at home. He went again next day, but Rechberg was still not to be seen. He had evidently written to Vienna and was waiting for an answer. At length Oertzen came to me after having spoken to him. Rechberg was prepared to withdraw what he had said and offer an apology, either in writing or verbally, just as I liked. He would also come to me if I wished. I went to his place, however, and the affair was settled.”
I asked him then about the celebrated story of the cigars. “Which do you mean?” “Why, about the cigar which you lit, Excellency, when Rechberg was smoking in your presence.” “Thun, you mean. Yes, that was very simple. I went to him while he was at work, and he was smoking. He begged me to excuse him for a moment. I waited a while and finding it rather slow, as he did not offer me a cigar, I took one of my own and asked him for a light—which he gave me with rather a surprised look. But I have another story of the same kind. At the sittings of the Military Commission, when Rochow represented Prussia at the Bundestag, Austria was the only one who smoked. Rochow, who was passionately addicted to smoking, would gladly have done the same, but had not sufficient confidence. When I came I also felt a longing for a cigar, and as I could not see why I should deny myself I begged the presiding power to give me a light, apparently much to his and the other gentlemen’s astonishment and displeasure. It was evidently an event for them all. For the time being only Austria and Prussia smoked. But the remaining gentlemen obviously considered the matter of so much importance that they wrote home for instructions as to how they were to act in the circumstances. The authorities were in no hurry. The affair was one that demanded careful consideration, and for nearly six months the two great Powers smoked alone. Then Schrenkh, the Bavarian Minister, began to assert the dignity of his office by lighting his weed. Nostitz, the Saxon, had certainly a great desire to do the same, but had probably not yet received the permission of his Minister. On seeing Bothmer, of Hanover, however, allow himself that liberty, Nostitz, who was strongly Austrian in his sympathies, having sons in the Austrian army, must have come to an understanding with Rechberg, with the result that he too at the next sitting pulled out his cigar case and puffed away with the rest. Only the representatives of Würtemberg and Darmstadt now remained, and they were non-smokers. The honour and dignity of their States, however, imperiously demanded that they should follow suit, and so as a matter of fact the Würtemberger pulled out a cigar at the next sitting—I can still see it in my mind’s eye, a long, thin, yellow thing of the colour of rye straw—and smoked at least half of it as a burnt-offering on the altar of patriotism. Hesse-Darmstadt was the only one who finally refrained—probably conscious that he was not strong enough to enter into rivalry with the others.”[9]
Friday, September 23rd.—Beautiful weather this morning. I took a walk in the park before the Chief got up. On my return I met Keudell, who called out “War! A letter from Favre rejecting our demands. The Chief has given instructions to communicate the letter to the press with certain comments, hinting that the present occupant of Wilhelmshöhe is after all not so bad and might be of use to us.”
The conversation afterwards turned on Pomeranian affairs, and the Chief spoke amongst other things of the great estate of Schmoldin. The former proprietor had become bankrupt through treating the people on the estate—mostly Slav fishermen and sailors—with too much consideration. The place, which consisted of about 8,000 acres of arable land, and 12,000 to 16,000 acres of forest and downs, worth at least 200,000 thalers, was purchased by the Royal Treasury for 80,000 thalers. The change of proprietors had not benefited the tenants, as there was no question of forbearance or abatements. Many of them have fallen into a state of pauperism, and instead of being provided for by the Royal Treasury, they have become a burden on the local authorities. That is not as it ought to be. It was believed that Obstfelder was to blame for this hard and unfair treatment.
Saturday, September 24th.—The Minister spoke at dinner about the ostentatious decorations of the great hall of the château, which he had now seen for the first time. Amongst other things it contains a throne or table which some French marshal or general inadvertently packed up with his baggage somewhere in China, or Cochin China, and afterwards sold to our Baron. The Chief’s verdict was:—“All extremely costly, but not particularly beautiful, and still less comfortable.” He then continued:—“A ready-made property like this would not give me any genuine satisfaction. It was made by others, and not by myself. True, there are many things in it really beautiful, but one misses the pleasure of creating and altering. It is also quite a different thing when I have to ask myself if I can afford to spend five or ten thousand thalers on this or that improvement, and when there is no need to think about the cost. In the end it must become tiresome to have always enough and more than enough.”
In an article written this evening we returned to our good friends the French Ultramontanes, who are as active in war as they had been in peace in opposing the German cause, inciting people against us, circulating lies about us in the newspapers, and even leading the peasants to take up arms against our troops, as at Beaumont and Bazeilles.
Sunday, September 25th.—At table we somehow came to discuss the Jews. “They have no real home,” said the Chief. “They are international—Europeans, cosmopolitans, nomads. Their fatherland is Zion, Jerusalem. Otherwise they are citizens of the whole world, and hold together everywhere. There are amongst them some good, honest people, as for instance one at our own place in Pomerania, who traded in hides and such things. Business cannot have prospered with him, as he became bankrupt. He begged of me not to press my claim, and promised that he would pay by instalments, when he could. Yielding to my old habit, I agreed, and he actually paid off the debt. I received instalments from him while I was still in Frankfurt as Minister to the Bundestag, and I believe that if I lost anything at all, I must have lost less than his other creditors. Certainly not many such Jews are to be met with in our large towns. They have also their own special virtues. They are credited with respect for their parents, faithfulness in marriage, and benevolence.”