“Yes, and I am curious to know what the Pope will now do. Leave the country? But where can he go? He has already requested us to ask the Italians whether he would be allowed to leave and with fitting dignity. We did so, and they replied that the utmost respect would be paid to his position, and that their attitude would be governed by that determination in case he desired to depart.”
“They would not like to see him go,” added Hatzfeldt; “it is in their interests that he should remain in Rome.”
The Chief: “Yes, certainly. But perhaps he may be obliged to leave. But where could he go? Not to France, because Garibaldi is there. He would not like to go to Austria. To Spain? I suggested to him Bavaria.” The Minister then reflected for a moment, after which he continued: “There remains nothing for him but Belgium or North Germany. As a matter of fact he has already asked whether we could grant him asylum. I have no objection to it—Cologne or Fulda. It would be passing strange, but after all not so very inexplicable, and it would be very useful to us to be recognised by Catholics as what we really are, that is to say, the sole power now existing that is capable of protecting the head of their Church. Stofflet and Charette, together with their Zouaves, could then go about their business. We should have the Poles on our side. The opposition of the Ultramontanes would cease in Belgium and Bavaria. Malinkrott would come over to the Government side. But the King will not consent. He is terribly afraid. He thinks all Prussia would be perverted, and he himself would be obliged to become a Catholic. I told him, however, that if the Pope begged for asylum he could not refuse it. He would have to grant it as ruler over ten million Catholic subjects who would desire to see the head of their Church protected. Besides, imaginative people, particularly women, may possibly feel drawn towards Catholicism by the pomp and ritual of St. Peter’s, with the Pope seated upon his throne and bestowing his benediction. The danger would not be so great, however, in Germany, where the people would see the Pope amongst them as a poor old man seeking assistance—a good old gentleman, one of the Bishops, who ate and drank like the rest, took his pinch of snuff, and even perhaps smoked a cigar. And after all even if a few people in Germany became Catholic again (I should certainly not do so) it would not matter much so long as they remained believing Christians. The particular sect is of no consequence, only the faith. People ought to be more tolerant in their way of thinking.” The Chief then dilated on the comic aspect of this migration of the Pope and his Cardinals to Fulda, and concluded: “Of course the King could not see the humorous side of the affair. But (smiling) if only the Pope remains true to me I shall know how to bring his Majesty round.”
Some other subjects then came up. Hatzfeldt mentioned that his Highness of Coburg had fallen from his horse. “Happily, however, without being hurt,” hastily added Abeken, with a pleased expression. This led the Chief to speak of similar accidents that had happened to himself.
“I believe I shall be more than within the mark in saying that I must have fallen from horseback fifty times. It is nothing to be thrown from your horse, but when the horse lies on top of you, then it’s a bad case. The last time was at Varzin, when I broke three ribs. I thought it was all up with me. It was not, however, so dangerous as it seemed, but it was terribly painful.... But as a young man I had a remarkable accident, which shows how our thinking powers are dependent upon the brain. I was riding home one evening with my brother, and we were both galloping as hard as our horses could go. Suddenly my brother, who was in front, heard a fearful bang. It was my head that had struck against the road. My horse had shied at a lantern in a cart coming in the opposite direction, and reared so that he fell backwards, and I tumbled on my head. At first I lost consciousness, and on returning to my senses my power of thinking remained on some points quite clear, but had quite deserted me on others. I examined my horse and found that the saddle was broken, so I called the groom and rode home on his horse. When the dogs there barked at me by way of greeting, I thought they did not belong to us, got cross with them and drove them away. Then I said the groom had fallen from his horse and they should send a stretcher to bring in; and I got very angry when, taking their cue from my brother, they showed no disposition to move. Were they going to leave the unfortunate man lying in the road? I did not know that I was myself and was at home, or rather I was both myself and the groom. I asked for something to eat and afterwards went to bed. After having slept through the night I woke up next morning all right again. It was a strange case. I had examined the saddle, taken another horse, and so forth. I had done everything that was practically required. In that respect the fall had produced no confusion in my ideas. A singular example which shows that the brain harbours various intellectual powers—only one of these had remained stupefied by my fall for a somewhat longer time.
“I well remember another incident of the kind. I was riding rapidly through some young timber in a large wood a considerable distance from home. As I was crossing over a hollow road the horse stumbled and fell, and I lost consciousness. I must have lain there senseless for about three hours, as it was already twilight by the time I stirred. The horse was standing near me. As I said, the place was at a great distance from our estate, and I was entirely unacquainted with the district. I had not yet quite recovered my senses, but on this occasion also I did what was necessary. I took off the martingale, which was broken, and followed the road across a rather long bridge which, as I then ascertained, was the nearest way to a farm in the neighbourhood. The farmer’s wife ran away on seeing a big man standing before her with his face all covered with blood. Her husband, however, came to me and wiped away the blood. I told him who I was, and as I was hardly fit for such a long ride home I asked him to drive me there, which he accordingly did. I must have been shot fifteen feet out of the saddle and fallen against the root of a tree. On the doctor examining my injuries, he said it was against all the rules of his art that I had not broken my neck.
“I have also been a couple of other times in danger of my life,” continued the Chief. “For instance, before the Semmering railway was finished (I believe it was in 1852) I went with a party through one of the tunnels. It was quite dark inside. I went ahead with a lantern. Now right across the floor of the tunnel was a rift or gully, which must have been about fifteen feet deep and half as wide again as this table. A plank was laid across it, with a raised skirting board on both sides to prevent the wheelbarrows from slipping off. This plank must have been rotten, as when I reached the middle it broke in two and I fell down; but having probably involuntarily stretched out my arms, I remained hanging on the skirting. The lantern having gone out, those behind thought I had fallen into the gully, and were not a little surprised when the reply to their question, ‘Are you still alive?’ instead of coming from the depths below came from just under their feet. I answered, ‘Yes, here I am.’ I had in the meantime recovered hold also with my feet, and I asked whether I should go on or come back. The guide thought I had better go on to the other side, and so I worked my way over. The workman who acted as our guide then struck a light, got another plank, and brought the party across. That plank was a good example of the slovenly way in which such things were managed in Austria at that time; because I cannot believe that it was intentional. I was not hated in Vienna then as I am now—on the contrary.”
Thursday, November 10th.—In the morning I am instructed by the Chief to telegraph that great distress has been occasioned in France, and that still more is to be anticipated, in consequence of the application by the Provisional Government of Savings Bank funds for the relief of the poor, and of the property of corporations, to military purposes. I had permission to study the documents connected with the abortive negotiations for an armistice.
Thiers had stated in a memorandum the principles which he, and the French Government which he represented, regarded as a basis for the proposed armistice. It was to the following effect: The object of the understanding was to put an end as soon as possible to the bloodshed, and to permit the convocation of a National Assembly which would represent the will of France in dealing with the European Powers, and be in a position sooner or later to conclude peace with Prussia and her allies. The armistice must last for twenty-eight days, of which twelve would be required for canvassing the constituencies, one for the polling, five for the elected deputies to meet in some given place, and ten for examining the returns and appointing the bureau of the Assembly. Tours might for the present remain the seat of such an Assembly. The elections must be allowed to take place free and unhindered in all parts of France, including those occupied by the Prussians. Military operations on both sides to cease, although both parties would be at liberty to enlist recruits and proceed with works of defence. The armies to be at liberty to obtain for themselves supplies of provisions, but requisitions on the other hand to be suspended as “constituting a military operation which should cease together with other hostilities.” Moreover fortified places were to be provisioned for the duration of the truce in proportion to the strength of the population and garrison. For this purpose Paris to be allowed to receive the following live stock and other provisions over four railway lines to be determined: 34,000 bullocks, 80,000 sheep, 8,000 pigs, 5,000 calves, 100,000 metric centals of corned meat, 8,000,000 metric centals of hay or straw as fodder for the cattle in question, 200,000 metric centals of flour, 30,000 metric centals of dried vegetables, 100,000 tons of coal, and 500,000 cubic metres of fire-wood. In these calculations the population of Paris and its suburbs, including the garrison of 400,000 men, was estimated at 2,700,000 to 2,800,000 inhabitants.
These demands on the part of the French could not be accepted. Had we agreed to them we should have surrendered the greater and more important portion of the advantages we had gained in the last seven weeks, at the cost of great sacrifices and severe exertions. In other words, we should in the main have returned to the position in which we were on the 19th of September, the day on which our troops completed the investment of Paris. We are asked to allow Paris to provision itself, when even now it suffers from scarcity and will shortly be obliged to starve or surrender. We are to suspend our military operations just at the moment when the fall of Metz and the release of the army of Prince Frederick Charles enable us to extend and render them more effective. We are quietly to permit recruiting and organisation, by means of which the French Republic is to create a new field force, while we require no recruits. At the same time that we are to allow Paris and the other French fortresses to supply themselves with provisions, we are to provide for our own troops without the requisitions which are necessary in an enemy’s country. We are to make all these concessions without any military equivalent—such, for instance, as the evacuation of one or two of the Paris forts in return for the liberty to provision the city—and without being offered any clear prospect of peace. The first object of the armistice according to the Thiers memorandum, namely, the restoration of an orderly state of affairs by the lawful election of a Constituent Assembly, is unquestionably more in the interest of the French themselves than in ours; and, considering the constant excitement maintained by the inflammatory proclamations of the Provisional Government, it may possibly not be secured even under a new administration. More orderly conditions could be brought about even now without a truce if the present Government were seriously disposed to work in that direction. It was absolutely impossible on the German side to have anything to do with such proposals. A different arrangement altogether was needful, and therefore the Chancellor of the Confederation offered M. Thiers a truce of twenty-five to twenty-eight days on the basis of the maintenance of the military status quo, which would enable the French to carry on the elections in peace, and to convoke the Assembly thus constituted. This also was a concession on our part in which the advantages were all on the French side. If, as Thiers asserted, Paris was supplied with provisions and other necessaries for several months, it is not easy to see why the Provisional Government broke off the negotiations which, at the outside, would have prevented the Parisians from making useless sorties. France, on the other hand, would have had the great advantage of having a line of demarcation drawn which would have arrested the advance of the German forces, restricting the unopposed occupation of further districts by our army that had been set free by the fall of Metz. In the meantime Thiers refused this very acceptable offer, and maintained that the provisioning of Paris was an indispensable condition for an understanding, while he was not empowered to give any prospect of a military equivalent for the same, such as the evacuation of one of the Paris forts.