Twin-born with the active, restless life and labor so typical of our modern days, with the rapid course of political events, we note the natural sisterhood of swift[332] forgetfulness. Most of us would have some difficulty in forming any thing like a clear picture of the decidedly involved situation in which Prussia stood in the autumn of 1862. It is beside our purpose to attempt any definition of this situation here, without taking into consideration the difficulties surrounding the solution of such a problem at that time; we must, therefore, content ourselves with cursory hints and indications.
The Liberal Ministry, which had just resigned, had left the conflict with the Electoral Chamber of the Diet as an inheritance to the Conservative Government now in power.
King William did not desire a coup d’état; he therefore unweariedly strove to bring about a good understanding, and found his efforts seconded throughout this stormy crisis by the loyal zeal and devotion of the Conservatives as well as the Liberals—especially by his ever-faithful War Minister General von Roon; but all endeavors, to the deepest sorrow of the paternal-hearted monarch, proved unavailing.
It was at last necessary to find some guiding Minister, sufficiently possessed of devotion, energy, daring, and circumspection, to carry on the business of the State, despite of the crisis, until, in the course of time, the action of history should have reconciled these fiery opponents.
The choice of the King fell upon his then representative at Paris—upon Bismarck, who was summoned by telegraph from the Pyrenees to Berlin.
It was well known to King William that the selection of this statesman, at any rate for the moment, would tend to heighten the sharpness of the strife; for, in the eyes of his opponents, Bismarck then was, and long remained, the Hotspur of the Junker party—the fiery and energetic Conservative party leader. Very few knew to what a statesman Bismarck had ripened in Frankfurt, where he had thoroughly learnt to know the fox-trap, so dangerous for Prussia, of German small-statism, with its innumerable corners and windings; as also in St. Petersburg, where he had studied under a politician of the first rank, Prince Gortschakoff; and finally in the hot atmosphere of Paris.
“Bismarck! that is the coup d’état!” a democratic organ exclaimed; and this was re-echoed in an undertone by many Conservatives, who, perhaps, only saw safety in a coup d’état. But[333] Bismarck was by no means a coup d’état, but a statesman; and a statesman in whom the King reposed confidence.
After long and well-considered deliberation, the King came to this difficult determination. The appointment of Bismarck, under existing circumstances, was doubly and trebly difficult, for, though Bismarck was intelligible enough to him, the majority of the nation did not understand him, and in every direction, in all circles, and under every political form, opposition arose, with wild cries of resistance.
And when he had actually been summoned, the question presented itself on the other side—What conditions would Bismarck impose? With what programme would he enter upon the situation?
On this, General von Roon, whom Bismarck had known as a boy, and whom he had accompanied in surveys through Pomerania, with his little gun, was sent to meet him. And lo! all this hesitation was perfectly unnecessary; for the Brandenburg liege faith of Bismarck responded to the appeal of his feudatory lord with the simple answer: “Here I am!”
Bismarck imposed no conditions, came forward with no programme;[334] the faithful vassal of Electoral Brandenburg placed himself simply at his King’s disposal, with that chivalric devotion which contemplates the most difficult position as self-intelligible. The beloved kingdom of Prussia had to be upheld against the parliamentary spirit; the new organization of the army, on which the future of Prussia and Germany depended, had to be saved; such was the task imposed upon Bismarck.
When Bismarck arrived in Berlin, about the middle of September, 1862, he found opposite himself the party of progress, almost certain of victory, clashing onward like a charger with heavy spurs and sword, trampling upon every thing that came in its path, setting up new scandals every day, and acting in such a manner that the wiser chiefs of that very party shook their heads. Besides the party of progress, and partially governed and towed along by it, was the Liberal party, in the greatest confusion after their recent amazing catastrophe, but possessed, with the exception of a minority, of an almost still greater dislike for Bismarck than was entertained by the Progressists: very easily might this be understood, as it was this party more than any other that Bismarck had opposed since the first United Diet.
Bismarck had only the Conservative party in his own favor, but, during the new era, this had fallen away to an almost vanishing fraction in the Electoral Chamber; its political activity was maintained only by the Upper House and by the Neue Preussische Zeitung, together with a portion of the provincial press, and was just then once more beginning to express its views in a louder tone by the revival of the conservative associative principle. The new era had shown Conservative politicians that a Conservative party in Prussia, although possessing perfect individuality upon single questions, could only as a great whole be a Government party. “With the Government in courage, without the Government in sorrow, if needs be against the Government with humility; such is the path of the Conservative party!” Such was once the fine and proud axiom of the Conservatives, but only true so far as it concerns special questions. Conservative Prussia can only go hand in hand with the Royal Government; but, on the other hand, it is equally certain that a truly Royal Government in Prussia can only be a Conservative Government. The proofs to the contrary imported from France or[335] England are not applicable to the peculiar circumstances of Prussia, and hence act in a manner productive of confusion.
The support which the Conservative party could then give to Bismarck was, as it were, that of a vanquished army, and its ranks required reorganization ere it could be led against the foe. But Conservative support was tendered voluntarily, and with perfect devotion, even by that fraction of the party which was piqued with Bismarck since he had, at Frankfurt, shown a front against Austria, which, indeed, was almost in open hostility towards him, since he had proposed more friendly relations with France, had supported the unpopular doctrine of international interests, and had declared himself for Italy. The acute men of Hochkirchen, the intelligent representatives of conservative idealism, the firm pillars of the policy of the Holy Alliance, the enthusiastic defenders of all legitimacy, from whose ranks Bismarck himself had emerged, had partly become his antagonists; but at the ominous hour when he assumed the head of the Government, they did not deny themselves to him, and “our azure blues,” as the late Baron von Hertefeld used to call them, in his peculiar tone of admiration and malice, have honestly stood by Bismarck through difficult years, in the good fight he had fought for the Prussian monarchy.
What a battle, however, this was may be judged from the fact that many of the best fellow-soldiers of Bismarck no longer contended for victory, but, so to speak, sought only a chivalric death. In all Conservative circles it was everywhere said that the fight was only continued from a sense of duty: the victory of progress and parliamentarianism over the old Prussian monarchy was now only a question of time, but it was necessary to die standing. The last advocates of the Prussian monarchy at least desired to win the respect of their antagonists. Such was the phrase of those days; most of them have probably long since forgotten it, but it is fitting that they should sometimes be reminded of it. In the year 1863, one of the most zealous personal partisans of Bismarck determined to accept an important mission offered by him, with the certain conviction that in so doing he was preparing for an honorable fall. Certainly there also existed in those days fresh undejected minds who stood to their imperishable belief in the Prussian monarchy as in an impregnable fortress, and[336] flung the flag of hope merrily to the breeze; but of these the number was very small.
Did Bismarck belong to these? Yes. He believed in his Prussian monarchy, had faith in the future of Prussia and Germany; but he was also perfectly conscious that he was engaged in a mortal conflict.
He has not publicly expressed himself on this, but several isolated remarks which he has, in his characteristic manner, let drop to various friends, place this beyond a doubt. Several times he said—
“Death on the scaffold, under certain circumstances, is as honorable as death on the battle-field!” and, “I can imagine worse modes of death than the axe!”
Only six years lie between that time, in which such words were fraught with such terrible significance, and to-day, when that time seems to us like a frightful dream; but that it wears such an aspect to us, is due, under God’s mercy and the valor of King William, to the faithful devotion and energetic policy of Count Bismarck.
For the rest, Bismarck entered upon office with strong confidence; he really hoped at first to arrive at some solution of the crisis. All those who saw or spoke to him in those September or October days, remember the unwearied bearing and joyful assurance with which he went to work. “He looks thin, healthy, and sunbrowned, like a man who has traversed the desert on a dromedary!” was the description given of him by a friend at the time. At first he thought it not impossible to win over the hostile party leaders, and he conferred with many of them: whether they were Liberals or Progressists, in the end they were, at any rate, Prussians. He appealed to their Prussian patriotism; they could not fail, although they sought it by different ways to himself, to have their country’s fame and glory as a common goal. But if they desired the well-being of Prussia and Germany, they could not but also desire the means to that end—the newly organized army. No doubt that many of those with whom Bismarck negotiated, or who were negotiated with by others at his instance, felt their hearts beating loudly at this appeal; but he succeeded only in winning a very few. With the majority, the rigid party doctrine prevailed as an insurmountable barrier; with[337] others, every attempt at an understanding was rendered unsuccessful by unvanquishable suspicion; many well understood the hints—and more than hints it was impossible for Bismarck to give—but they did nothing more. He thus finally attained to a summation of undeceptions, which did not discourage him, although this gradually filled his patriotic heart with the deepest sorrow.
But at first, as we have said, he came forward fresh and full of hope; nor did his first failures and undeceptions disconcert him in any way. His tone towards his opponents was that of reconciliation. For his sovereign’s sake he took many a step towards conciliation with sad reluctance, although without desistance.
His wife, who was residing in Pomerania with her parents, he could furnish with meagre reports. The lovely season of the “blue” was past, and the fullness of labor began to increase with rapidity. On the 7th of October he wrote to her at a session of the House of Deputies in the following terms:—“I am sitting at the table of the Chamber, with a speaker, who talks nonsense to me, on the tribune just before me, and between one explanation just given, and another one I shall have to give, I write to you to say I am well. Plenty of work—somewhat tired—not sleep enough—the beginning of all things is difficult. With God’s help things will go better, and it is very well so, only it is somewhat uncomfortable, this life on a tray! I dine every day with our good-natured Roon, who will be a real support for you. I see I have commenced on the wrong side; I hope it is not a bad omen.” [The letter is written on the inner side of the paper.] “If I had not R. and the mare I should feel very lonely, although I am never alone.”
Bismarck was provisionally living at the Ministry of State, in the “Auerswaldh?hle,” and only moved to the Foreign Office when the family had returned from Pomerania.
The following letter was also written during those days to his sister. The Bismarckian humor is likewise to be traced in it:—
Berlin, 18th Oct., 1862.
Such good black-pudding I never ate, and seldom such good liver; may your slaughtering be blessed: for three days I have been breakfasting upon the results of it. The cook, Rimpe, has arrived, and I dine at home alone when I am not at His Majesty’s[338] table. I got along very well at Paris. At Letzlingen I shot one stag, one sow, one badger, five brockets, four head of deer, and blundered tolerably, if, perhaps, not as much as my neighbors. But the amount of work here is growing daily. To-day, from eight to eleven, diplomacy; from eleven to half-past two, various Ministerial squabble conferences; then, till four, report to the King; from a quarter past to three-quarters, a gallop in the rain to the Hippodrome; five o’clock, dinner; from seven till now, ten, work of all sorts. But health and sound sleep—tremendous thirst!
It ought not, and could not, remain so long. The strong self-consciousness and feeling of victory with which the Progressist party advanced—and that in a manner the most abrupt, and sometimes even personally insulting—could not fail to convince Bismarck, that he would not succeed in solving the crisis. He had now to resolve to leave—in accordance with the King’s will—time to solve matters, but, despite of this, to continue, within the constitution, to conduct the Government. With a firm step he pursued this difficult path, and he was able to inspire others with his confidence. Yes; even King William, whose gentle heart suffered severely in this arena of contention, refreshed himself at his Minister’s sure bearing—so much so, that on one occasion, when a lovely Russian princess was congratulating him on his healthy appearance, he pointed to Bismarck, and replied, “Voilà mon médecin!”
An old acquaintance, who met Bismarck at this time, and asked him how he was, received for reply, “How should I be? You know how I love to be lazy, and how I have to work!”
The chief of one of the numerous deputations of those days, at which opponents mocked so much as loyalty deputations, although they were of no little significance, was introduced to Bismarck. He summed up the personal impression which the Minister-President made upon him, in his singing Saxon dialect, in the admiring phrase:—“D’ye hear! one can’t talk nonsense when one meets that man!”
“Then I suppose you’ve never been in the Chamber?” the Berlin friends of the worthy inhabitant of Wettin, or L?bejühn, observed in reply.
[339]
It is certainly evidence in favor of Bismarck’s conciliating tendency, that at a session of the Commission he took a twig from his pocket-book and showed it to his antagonists, merrily adding, in a chatty way, that he had plucked this olive-branch at Avignon to present it to the Progressist party in token of peace; but he unfortunately had been forced to learn there that the time for that had not yet arrived.
On the 29th September, 1862, he announced the withdrawal of the budget for 1863, “because the Government considered it their duty not to allow the obstacles towards a settlement to increase in volume.” He then announced his intentions, his aims, as clearly as he dared. “The conflict has been too tragically understood,” he said, “and too tragically represented by the press; the Government sought no contest. If the crisis could be honorably surmounted, the Government would gladly lend a hand. It was owing to the great obstinacy of individuals that it was difficult to govern with the constitution in Prussia. A constitutional crisis was no disgrace, it was an honor. We are, perhaps, too cultured to endorse a constitution; we are too critical. Public opinion changed; the press was not public opinion; it was well known how the press was upheld. The Deputies had the task of determining its opinions, and to stand above it. Germany does not contemplate the Liberalism of Prussia, but her power. Bavaria, Würtemberg, and Baden might indulge Liberalism;[340] but they are not therefore called upon to play the part of Prussia. Prussia must hold her power together for the favorable opportunity which has already been sometimes neglected; the frontiers of Prussia were not favorable to a good State constitution. The great questions of the day were not to be decided by speeches and majorities—this had been the error of 1848 and 1849—but by iron and blood!”
But the Opposition understood this frank language so little, that there was nothing more than plenty of jesting about the iron-and-blood policy, without end.
When the Chamber answered these conciliating steps with the resolutions of the 7th October, by which all expenditure was declared unconstitutional if declined by the national representatives, Bismarck replied with this cutting declaration:—
“According to this resolution, the Royal Government can not for the present anticipate any result from the continuance of its attempts to arrive at some settlement, but rather expect from any renewal of the negotiation a heightening of party differences, which would render any understanding in the future more difficult.”
On the next day, the 8th of October, 1862, Bismarck, who had been named Minister of State and President of the Ministry, ad interim, on the 23d September, was appointed President of the Ministry of State and Minister of Foreign Affairs.
On the 13th of October the session of the Diet was closed, and on this occasion Bismarck again took an opportunity of expressing his views on his position with great moderation and gentleness. He said:—“The Government is perfectly aware of the responsibility which has arisen from this lamentable crisis; but, at the same time, it is also observant of the duties it owes to the country, and in this finds itself strengthened to press for the supplies—until the State is settled—necessary for existing State institutions and the furtherance of the common weal, being assured that, at the proper time, they will receive the subsequent sanction of the Diet.”
This was the beginning of the loudly-assailed “budgetless” Government; at the present day, no one will deny that this was precisely the mildest form of opposition. A budget had certainly not come into existence, but the Government was conscientiously[341] carried on according to the principles of the constitution, as the King desired. It was a severe and endless battle which now ensued—a strife wearying both body and soul; but the Government never appealed to physical force; it was a war of opinions and convictions, a war of intellectual weapons, such as had never been seen in the political region of the world’s history, and such as was really only possible in Prussia.
Perhaps this is the most fitting place to draw attention to one point of Bismarck’s policy, that to us does not seem to have been sufficiently valued in general, but which at the same time is highly characteristic of Bismarck’s method; we allude to the great prudence with which he ever upheld the Sovereignty itself above the conflict. Certainly he fought for the Prussian monarchy, on which depended the future of Prussia and Germany; but the conflict was between him, between the State Government and the Chamber of Deputies, not between the Crown and the Diet, still less between the King and the people. If the King could have dispensed with the reorganization, it was only necessary[342] to dismiss Bismarck, and the crisis existed no longer. Bismarck was personally identified with the crisis; in this he might fall, but the Crown remained perfectly secure. But in such devotion the constitutional fiction of the irresponsibility of the King had no part whatever; it was the Brandenburg vassal’s lealty which covered the feudatory lord with its knightly shield. At the end of October, Bismarck again went to Paris, to take an official leave at the Tuileries; on the 1st of November he had his farewell audience of the Emperor Napoleon at Saint Cloud. It could scarcely have failed that the conversation turned upon the great task, the accomplishment of which Bismarck had so courageously undertaken. Napoleon had then but little belief in success, and probably pointed to the fate of Prince Polignac. Bismarck, however, was fully aware of the difference between the situations of 1830 in France, and 1862 in Prussia.
Immediately after the audience he returned to Berlin.