The action of history would not fail to solve the conflict, but this was only possible if Prussia entered energetically on this action; and thus we see Bismarck, the man at the helm, steering the Prussian vessel of State, undismayed by the daily attacks of the Progressists, through shallows and rocks, firmly and safely towards open water, on which, driven by the breath of God into history, it was to fly in full sail towards the sunrise of victory.
Immediately after assuming the Ministry, in December, 1862, Bismarck entered upon negotiations with Austria. If Austria[344] could decide upon the dismissal of that enemy of Prussian policy, Schwarzenberg, and give Prussia her proper position in Germany and thus insure the same to Germany as her right. Bismarck was prepared to enter into a coalition with Austria; but if Austria could not rise to such a policy, Prussia was determined alone to give the coup de grace to the unhealthy, troubled state of things which lay like an Alp on German life, thus terminate the unnatural hesitation, and create for Germany a new and healthy body corporate.
With perfect frankness, as was his peculiar wont, Bismarck explained himself to Austria. The latter was at this time engaged with the project of the so-called delegations to the Bund, i.e., with a reform which was no reform, but an entirely meaningless absurdity, not even an apparent something.
In the famous circular dispatch of the 24th of January, 1863, Bismarck says:—
“In order to bring about a better understanding of the two Courts, I took the initiative in the form of negotiations with Count Karolyi, in which I brought the following considerations under the notice of the Imperial Ambassador. According to my convictions, our relations to Austria must unavoidably change for the better or the worse. It is the sincere wish of the Royal Government that the former alternative should arise; but if we should not be met by the Imperial Cabinet with the necessary advances as we could desire, it will be necessary for us to contemplate the other alternative, and prepare for it accordingly.
“I have reminded Count Karolyi that, during the decennial period preceding the events of 1848, there had been a tacit understanding between the two high Powers, by virtue of which Austria was insured the support of Prussia on European questions, and, on the other hand, allowed us to exercise an influence in Germany, unfettered by the opposition of Austria, as manifested by the formation of the Customs union. By these arrangements the German Diet rejoiced in a degree of internal unity and outward dignity, which has not since then been reached. I have not alluded to the question as to whose error it was that analogous relations were not re-established on the reconstitution of the Diet, as I was concerned, not with recriminations for the past, but with a practical development of the present time. In[345] the latter we find, in those very States with which Prussia, by her geographical position, is interested in maintaining special friendly relations, an opposing influence, promoted by the Imperial Cabinet, with signal results. I put it strongly to Count Karolyi, that Austria in this manner might, perhaps, win the sympathies of the governments of those States, but would estrange from herself those of Prussia, to the detriment of the common interests of the Diet. The Imperial Ambassador consoled himself with the certainty that, in the event of any war dangerous to Austria, the two greater powers would, under any circumstances, be found together again as allies.
“In this assumption, according to my view, there exists a dangerous error, which may, perhaps, not become apparent until the decisive moment, with a fatal clearness for both Cabinets, and I therefore besought Count Karolyi urgently to use all his powers to contradict this in Vienna. I pointed out that already, in the last Italian war, the alliance had not been so valuable to Austria as it might have been if the two powers had not, during the preceding eight years, contended with each other in the field of German politics, in a manner only conclusively advantageous to a third party, and so undermined all mutual confidence. Nevertheless, the fact that Prussia did not seek for any advantage in consequence of the difficulties of Austria in 1859, but rather armed to assist Austria in need, clearly shows the results of the former more intimate relations. But should these last not be renewed and revivified, Prussia would, under similar circumstances, be as little debarred from contracting an alliance with an antagonist of Austria, as, under opposite circumstances, from forming a faithful and firm alliance with Austria, against common enemies. I, at least, as I did not conceal from Count Karolyi, under such circumstances could never advise my gracious Sovereign to neutrality. Austria is free to choose whether she prefers to continue her present anti-Prussian policy, with the leverage of the coalition of the Central States, or would seek an honest union with Prussia. That the latter may be the result, is my most sincere desire. This can, however, only be obtained by the abandonment of Austria’s inimical policy at the German Courts.
“Count Karolyi replied that the Imperial House could not relinquish her traditional influences on the German Governments.[346] I denied the existence of any such tradition by pointing out that Hanover and Hesse had, for a hundred years—from the commencement of the Seven Years’ War—been principally guided by Prussian influences; and that, at the epoch of Prince Metternich, the same States had also been guided from Vienna, specially in the interest of the understanding between Prussia and Austria; consequently that the assumed tradition of the Austrian Imperial House dated only from the time of Prince Schwarzenberg, and the system to which it pertained has not hitherto shown itself conducive to the consolidation of the German Confederation. I laid stress upon the fact that, on my arrival in Frankfurt, in 1851, after circumstantial conversations with Prince Metternich, then residing at Johannisberg, I had anticipated that Austria herself would see the wisdom of a policy which would obtain us a position in the German Confederation, consonant with the interest of Prussia to throw all her strength into the common cause. Instead of that, Austria has striven to embitter and impede our position in the German Confederation, and, in point of fact, to force us to seek for allies in other directions. The whole treatment of Prussia on the part of the Vienna Cabinet seems to rest upon the assumption that we, more than any other State, are fully exposed to foreign attacks, against which we need foreign assistance, and that hence we are bound to put up with contemptuous treatment from those States from whom we expect aid. The task of a Prussian Government, having the interests of the Royal House and of the country at heart, would therefore be, to prove the erroneousness of this assumption by deeds, if words and aspirations are neglected.
“Our dissatisfaction with the condition of things in the Confederation has received fresh aliment during the last few months, from the obstinacy with which the German Governments more closely allied with Austria have offensively stood out against Prussia on the delegate question. Before 1848 it had been unheard of that questions of any magnitude should have been introduced in the Confederation, without the concurrence of the two great Powers previously being secured. Even in cases where the opposition had come from the less powerful States, as in the matter of the South German fortresses, it had been preferred to allow objects of such importance and urgency to remain unfulfilled for[347] years, rather than seek to overcome opposition by means of a majority. At the present day, however, the opposition of Prussia, not only to a proposal in itself, but in reference to its unconstitutionality, is treated as an incident undeserving of notice, by which no one should be prevented from pursuing a given progress in a deliberately chosen course. I urged upon Count Karolyi to communicate the contents of the preceding conference to Count Rechberg with the utmost accuracy, although in a confidential sense, expressing at the same time my conviction that the wounds sustained by our mutual relations can only be healed by unreserved sincerity.
“The second conversation took place on the 13th of December of last year, a few days after the former, in consequence of a dispatch of the Royal Ambassador at the Federal Diet. I visited Count Karolyi in order to draw his attention to the serious state of things at the Diet, and did not conceal from him that the further advance of the majority in a course regarded by us as unconstitutional, would bring us into a position we could not accept, and that in the consequences of it we foresaw the violation of the Confederation; that Herr von Usedom had left the Freiherr von Kübeck and Baron von der Pfordten in scarcely any doubt as to the construction which we placed upon the matter, but had received replies to his intimations whence we could draw no inferences as to any wish for a compromise, as Freiherr von der Pfordten pressed strenuously for a speedy delivery of our minority vote.
“Upon this I objected that, under such circumstances, a feeling of our own dignity would not admit of our evading any longer the conflict induced by the other side, and that I had therefore telegraphed the Royal Ambassador to deposit his minority vote. I indicated that passing over the border of legitimate competency by resolutions of the majority, would be regarded by us as a breach of the federal treaties, and that we should mark our sense of the fact by the withdrawal of the Royal Ambassador to the Diet, without nominating any successor; and I drew attention to the practical consequences likely to ensue upon such a situation in a comparatively short time, as it would naturally occur that the activity of an assembly, in which, from just causes, we no longer took part, would be regarded by us as inauthoritative on the whole business sphere of the Diet.
[348]
...
“A few days after this I was confidentially informed that the Imperial Austrian Ambassador at St. Petersburg (Count Thun) was about to return to his post by way of Berlin, and would confer with me upon the pending question. When he arrived, I did not hesitate, despite the recently named lamentable experiences of an endeavor to meet his communications—made for the purpose of some understanding—in the most straightforward manner. I therefore declared myself ready to enter upon different projects, agreed between us, for the settlement of the Frankfurt difficulties.... On this Count Thun proposed to me that an interview between Count Rechberg and myself should be arranged, with a view of a further discussion of the matter. I declared myself ready to meet him, but in the next few days received from Count Karolyi confidential communications, according to which, Count Rechberg anticipated, before our interview, the declaration of my adhesion to the reform project in the Diet, regarding which, in my opinion, it was necessary to have longer and more minute negotiations. As the time extending up to the 22d of December was too short for these, I presumed that it was only possible to employ the proposed conference for the consideration of previous and binding treaties.... As Count Rechberg hereupon declared that Austria could not give up the further negotiation of the project in reference to the assembly of delegates without some assured equivalent, the interview until this time has not taken place.”
Clearly as it is here stated, so it happened with all negotiations. Prussia ever sought to go hand-in-hand with Austria, but Austria ever evaded the opportunity. She alleged that it was her intention to pursue her German policy alone, in her solitary path—the way of Schwarzenberg—which was to lead, over the entire insignificance of Germany, to the humiliation and oppression of Prussia. Of course Prussia then had no other alternative than to follow its own mission its own way. To this period belongs the conclusion of the Prusso-Russian treaty on the common measures to be pursued for the suppression of the Polish insurrection. This Convention, by which the friendly relations of Prussia and Russia were confirmed, has been frequently and unintentionally misinterpreted. The internal meaning of this, and[349] its reaction, require some further explanation which it is not desirable at present to give.[45]
The diplomatic campaign, which the other Powers commenced at the instance of the Convention, it is well known, had no result, and was lost in the sands.
But the saddest figure in this business was played by the party of progress, who, in their blind zeal, had seized upon the Convention, on the plea that Prussia by this would become nothing higher than an outpost of Russia. The idea of such a baseless absurdity—had it been so—would have been laughable, if it had not been too sad to see that the opposition to Prussia abroad had again been instigated by an allied party in the actual Prussian camp. This, however, unfortunately was doomed to be frequently repeated on later occasions.
In the summer of 1863 Bismarck had accompanied his King to Carlsbad, and thence to Gastein, when Austria emerged with her new and useless projects of reorganization, in which there was a tinge and tendency of the inoperative Federal principle, as opposed to Prussian unionistic efforts. King William received the invitation to the Congress of Princes at Gastein, and the Emperor Francis Joseph himself personally handed him a minute memorial on these projects of reform. This contained, although of course it was not acknowledged by Austria, very little more than the project of delegates long since opposed by Prussia, and which in no way could content the pretensions of Prussia or the wants of the German people.
King William, who had gone with his Premier from Gastein, by way of Munich and Stuttgart, to Baden-Baden, declined to attend the Princes’ Congress at Frankfurt, which was then put up upon the scene with skill worthy of recognition, even with taste, but had not the slightest result, although the princes present at it had accepted the fundamental principles of the Austrian project.
And how came it that this illustrious princely congress should have departed to Orcus without any lamentation, so that in only a few weeks no one ever mentioned it again? Simply because Prussia had taken no part in it.
[350]
In Vienna it had been thought that Prussia would have been carried away by it. When that proved unsuccessful, withdrawal was thought undesirable, and every one had to learn, by bitter experience, that nothing was possible in Germany without Prussia. Prussia, as usual, had been undervalued, and thus it was revenged; but, nevertheless, Prussia continued to be slightly esteemed, and the vengeance was to be still greater.
At the present time, the simplest eyes can see that the rivalry of Prussia and Austria was now first coming into public sight, ere it was possible to think of any reconstruction of Germany. Austria had declined all the propositions of Prussia, which aimed essentially at a peaceable separation of Austria from the German Federation, and led to a federal union of the newly constructed union, under the leadership of Prussia, with Austria, but had replied with the Reform Act, containing within itself a nullification of Prussia. Austria, and the Central States allied with her, had given Prussia the alternatives of unconditional submission, immediate nullification, or the exclusion of herself from the new Federation.
Prussia, with quiet dignity, perfected this act of self-exclusion; and, lo! matters did not go on, and the Viennese Reform Act was a blank.
In his report to the King’s Majesty of the 15th of September, 1863, and in the Royal reply to the members of the Princes’ Congress on the 22d of the same month, Bismarck promulgated a series of “preliminary conditions” as to the part Prussia might take in further negotiations.
He demanded—1. The “veto of Prussia and Austria at least upon every federal war not undertaken in resistance of an attack upon federal territory;” 2. The “entire equality of Prussia with Austria in the presidency and government of federal concerns;” and 3. “A national representation, not to consist of delegates, but of directly chosen representatives, in the ratio of the populations of single States, the powers of which, in resolution, should, in any case, be more extensive than those in the project for the Frankfurt Reform Act.” As a plea for this condition he especially insisted, in his report to the King, that “the interests and requirements of the Prussian people were essentially and indissolubly identical with those of the German people, wherever this element attained its[351] true construction and value; Prussia never need fear to be drawn into any policy adverse to her own interests.” Besides these three points, he also maintained that the “German sovereigns” were bound either “to learn the opinion of the nation itself by the means of chosen representatives, or to adduce the constitutional sanction of the Diets of each individual State.”
But that Bismarck had fully understood the final and actual ends of the Austro-Central policy, may be seen from the following sentence of his report to the King’s Majesty:—
“In the entirely remarkable attitude observed by Austria in this transaction, it is impossible to avoid the impression that apparently the Imperial Austrian Cabinet from the commencement contemplated, not the co-operation of Prussia in the common enterprise, but the realization of a separate federation as an end, already visible in the first propositions of the 3d of August, in case that Prussia would not join in the Austrian plans.”
There can be no doubt that Bismarck, by his firm attitude towards the Congress of Princes and the Austro-Central policy, has not only saved the future of Prussia, but also that of Germany. At that time people were so confused and dazzled that it was not at all seen. The small fights in the Chamber had robbed people of any understanding of the great things there accomplished. Bismarck was plainly of opinion that war was imminent, as may be clearly read from the report on which he founded the dissolution of the Electoral Chamber of the Diet. It is here said:—“On the basis of the German Federal Constitution attempts have come to light, the unmistakable object of which is to set down such a power of the Prussian State in Germany and in Europe, which forms a well-earned heritage of the glorious history of our fathers, and which the Prussian people has not at any time resolved to allow to be alienated from it. Under these circumstances, it will be a necessity for his Majesty’s subjects at the same time to give expression to the fact, at the forthcoming elections, that no political difference of opinion is so deeply rooted in our country that, in the face of an attempt to bring down the independence and dignity of Prussia, the unity of the nation and its unalterable fidelity to the governing house can be shaken.”
Perhaps they in the camp of Austria and its allies reckoned on—decidedly they believed in—war; and war certainly came at the[352] time, but in a remarkable way, not between Prussia and Austria, but, to the inexpressible surprise of the world, Prussia and Austria, hand-in-hand as allies, took the field against Denmark.
It is utterly impossible clearly to state how Bismarck succeeded in inducing Austria to enter upon this war, how he managed to get their old rival to draw the sword for Prussia’s interest, in exact contradiction to her entire previous policy. It is quite true to say that the energetic initiative of Bismarck carried away Austria with him, but the matter does not grow at all clearer for that. It is also not inexact, most certainly, to affirm that Austrian diplomacy might assert that she was obliged to join, in order to watch over Prussia and bridle her; but it was by no means false when the Viennese exclaimed, “That Bismarck drags us by the halter!” when Austria went into Holstein, to Schleswig, to Jütland, in the interest of Prussia and Germany. No doubt the magic of Austria’s burning desire to retrieve the Imperial army’s lost prestige, after the misfortune of 1859, contributed to this political wonder—the desire of hanging fresh laurels on the black and yellow standard. Such a crown the warriors of Austria honestly won there in the North. Perhaps the circumstance that the Emperor of Austria always felt a friendly feeling towards Bismarck personally, had additional influence; and there might be a not altogether groundless feeling in existence that the conservative policy of Bismarck was not unlikely in some way to exert a favorable influence in Austria. It is said that on one occasion the Emperor Francis Joseph involuntarily exclaimed, when Bismarck was severely blamed in his presence, “Ah! if I but had him!”
If, however, Bismarck thus led Austria to the North as the ally of Prussia, and thus prevented interferences from other quarters, he also created new difficulties for himself in the sequence of events, which were to assume far higher proportions than they usually assumed. He knew very well that, after the victory over Denmark, the old quarrel with Austria would break out again—must break out again; nor could he have omitted to see that a victorious war, carried on in conjunction with Austria, could not fail mightily to increase all kinds of sympathies possessed by Austria in the army, and in conservative Prussia. The deep abhorrence against any rupture with Austria which Bismarck[353] had to combat in his own camp, emerged still more into light after the war in a more animated way, and rendered his position more difficult from day to day. All the traditions of glorious alliance of the great period of the War of Freedom had become revivified in the hut as in the palace, and they possessed real power; for it is an unquestionable fact that Austria would be the best ally for Prussia from that moment when it determines to allow Prussia to take her proper position in Germany without malice or envy. It was the destiny of Germany that Austria could not resolve to give Prussia what was Prussia’s right; Bismarck’s great political task, however, was to compel the surrender from Austria of that which is the meed of Prussia and Germany.
That, however, to which we have alluded, could only become of value after victory. In the beginning of the Danish campaign it passed only as a fresh breeze through the sultry political atmosphere of Prussia. The Progressist party certainly continued in their inimical position, but the people themselves began to see daylight; those minds not entirely blinded by political passion gradually obtained some glimpse of the meaning of Bismarck. The cannon storm of Missunde had awakened Prussian patriotism; Prussia had never been deaf when the royal trumpet sounded to battle, and the Prussian heart has ever stirred when the eagle standards have been unfolded. This should, however, be attributed to the advantage of the Minister whose policy led to the battle-field and the victory.[46]
[354]
When Prince Frederick Charles had planted Prussia’s standard victoriously on the walls of Düppel in April, 1864, King William himself went to the North to honor his brave warriors. On this triumphant progress Bismarck accompanied him, and there he might have learnt that he was no longer the universally hated Minister-President, but that this victory had greatly increased the number of those who honored him.
In the summer of the same year he accompanied his royal master to Carlsbad, and at this time he put the new companionship of Austria to a severe trial. Saxon and Hanoverian troops then held the Duchy of Holstein in the name of the German Confederation. It is fortunate for us that we need not enter any farther upon the terrible Schleswig-Holstein question. Bismarck considered it necessary to remove the Saxons and Hanoverians from the Duchies, which Prussia and Austria had won with the sword, and that at the peace of Vienna had been ceded to Prussia and Austria by Denmark. By the removal of the troops of the Central States the matter was much simplified, and the question brought a step nearer to solution. It was to be expected that Austria, considering her secret treaties with the Central States, would receive this step with very evil grace; but Bismarck put it into execution, and on the Austrian side it was allowed to be carried out, although the press was enraged at it—of which Bismarck, who went from Carlsbad through Prague to Vienna, and then to Gastein, was well aware on his journey.
From Gastein Bismarck returned in the King’s train, at the invitation of the Emperor of Austria, to Vienna, where he took a share in the great hunting-parties in the wild park, and had reason to congratulate himself on his skill. On this visit he was received with great distinction by the Emperor Francis Joseph, and received from him the Exalted Order of St. Stephen.
[355]
From Vienna he accompanied the King to Baden, and then went to his peaceful Reinfeld in Pomerania, but returned again to Baden before going to Biarritz, where he took sea-baths up till November. After a short stay in Paris he returned to Berlin. Here he resumed his old battle with the party of progress, whose hatred against the Minister-President, as may be very readily understood, grew more intense as he showed himself the more distinguished and greater.
[356]
BISMARCK’S ESTATE IN FARTHER POMERANIA.
[357]
After this “elegantly” conducted war—which was at once an experiment on the newly reorganized army and the needle-gun, and had roused the patriotically warlike, i.e., the real, spirit of Prussia, the King invested his Minister-President with the highest mark of honor Prussia can bestow—the Exalted Order of the Black Eagle. Among those who felt obliged epistolarily to congratulate Bismarck on this well-earned distinction, was his former preceptor, the Director, Dr. Bonnell. One evening Bismarck called on him personally to thank him; he sat pleasantly chatting with Bonnell’s family at the tea-table. In his decisive manner he related a great deal about Biarritz, where he had enjoyed himself thoroughly; lightly alluded to the numerous threatening letters and warnings of assassination with which he had been incommoded, but which he despised, as no political party had ever yet received any benefit from murder. He then related a dream which he had had in Biarritz. In this dream he thought he ascended a mountain path which continually grew narrower, until he found himself before a wall of rock, and beside him a deep abyss. For an instant he paused, thinking whether he should retrace his steps; but he then made up his mind and struck the wall with his cane, on which it immediately disappeared, and his road was free again. After talking of many things in old and new times, he rose and said, “I must go now, or my wife will be uneasy again.”
“Dreams are seems,” says the proverb, but perhaps not always, and at the present time every one knows what the wall was which vanished before Bismarck’s blow.
The following year, 1865, arrived. By the Vienna peace of the 30th October, 1864, the Duchies of Holstein and Schleswig were ceded to Prussia and Austria—that is to say, they had returned whither they belonged, to Germany. This was, however, especially the result of the daring and skillful policy of Bismarck, for such a conquest was quite against the intention and desire of Austria. It was necessary now to deal with this acquisition, and it soon appeared that Austria was about to substitute, in place of the great national policy of Bismarck, the ultimate end of which was very openly expressed—to have a German Confederation under the leadership of Prussia—the wretched detail of a new Schleswig-Holstein minor state. No doubt that in such a policy[358] Austria only thought of contravening Bismarck’s German policy—of rendering the realization of the Bismarck thought of union an impossibility. Nor was it remarkable that the Central States did not support the policy of Bismarck, as they would certainly have to sacrifice a part of that sovereignty they had so recently acquired to the nation, if Bismarck’s policy should prove victorious. These sovereigns could not determine to recede to the position they had so long held as German Princes of the Empire; they desired to assert their apparent sovereignty, and they were unable to perceive, that in case Austria should prevail, they would become Austria’s vassals at the expense of the German nation—at the price of Germany’s future. It was in vain that Bismarck exerted himself at the Federation, as well as at the German Courts, to introduce more healthy opinions—he could not get forward; and the continually abrupter forms in which Austria acted in the conquered Duchies, admitted of no doubt on his part that the Viennese politicians, with the whole of their partisans in Germany, were determined to force Prussia to submission; to the abandonment of her saving union policy, to the acceptance of the Austrian Federation—in fact, to her humiliation and dependence.
It was sad enough that Austria, in her inimical action, also reckoned upon the internal conflict in Prussia, which was the more zealously stimulated, in proportion as it became clear to the party of progress that the heart of the nation was more and more turning to the statesman who fought his victories, to the greater fame of Prussia and happiness of Germany, upon a field whither they were unable to follow him—upon the field of honor and of deeds. Of what use in the end was it, that they succeeded in victoriously maintaining, by their high-spiced speeches, a majority in the Chamber against the Ministry—that they embittered the daily life of Bismarck and the other Ministers—and rendered their labors more disagreeable, if this Ministry, despite of all, went victoriously on in the world’s history?—and that Bismarck, though he might not get the votes of the majority, won the hearts of the people?
We have no doubt that Bismarck, in the summer of 1865, already believed the hour of the great battle between Prussia and Austria to have arrived, and that he was determined to stand up[359] manfully for his sound policy, and with this conviction we arrive at a great riddle—the episode of Gastein.
Bismarck had accompanied the King, in the summer of 1865, to Carlsbad, thence to Gastein and Salzburg, and so to the Emperor of Austria at Ischl.
The deepest veil of secrecy still covers the events which there took place; it is true the historian, A. Schmidt,[47] assures us that already, on the 15th of July, Bismarck, at Carlsbad, had said to the French Ambassador at the Court of Vienna, the Duc de Grammont, that he considered war between Prussia and Austria to be unavoidable—even that it had become a necessity. But this is unquestionably untrue—as untrue as the further statement of the same historian, that Bismarck, on the 23d July, said openly to the Prime Minister of the King of Bavaria, the Freiherr von der Pfordten, that “in his firm opinion war between Prussia and Austria was very likely and close at hand. It was a question, as the matter appeared to him, of a duel between Austria and Prussia only. The rest of Germany might stand by and contemplate this duel as passive spectators. Prussia had never contemplated, and even now did not think of extending its power beyond the line of the Maine. The settlement of the controversy would not long have to be awaited. One blow—one pitched battle—and Prussia would be in the position to dictate conditions. The most urgent need of the Central States was to range themselves on her side. Neutrality, even that of Saxon soil, would be observed by Prussia. A localization of the war, and that localization confined to Silesia, was not only determined, but, according to the already ascertained opinions of the most competent military authorities, it was possible. The Central States, in addition to this, by the proclamation of neutrality, were an additional means towards securing this centralization of the war. Bavaria ought, however, to weigh well the fact that she was the natural heir of the position of Austria in South Germany.”
What Bismarck really might have said to Freiherr von der Pfordten is not recognizable in this acceptation at all.
On the 14th of August the treaty of Gastein was concluded, which divided the co-domination of Prussia and Austria in Holstein and Schleswig. This treaty compelled Austria to leave the[360] Central States a second time in an ambiguous position; the Central States might have learned from the fact how little really was cared for them at Vienna. This knowledge they had dearly to pay for a year later!
What could have induced Bismarck to conclude this truce—for the treaty of Gastein was nothing else? Who can positively say? To the present time it is an enigma not yet solved. Did military exigencies influence the matter? was the season too far advanced? did European politics stand in the way? or the unconcluded negotiations with Italy? was there a threat of intervention on the other side? had the old sympathies for Austria in Prussia, so greatly stimulated by the recent common campaign, to be respected? did King William follow up the old traditional partiality for Austria? did the King and his Minister wish to give Austria a last term of grace, hoping that Viennese politics might change at the twelfth hour? or did the purchase of the Duchy of Lauenburg afford any loophole of escape?
Perhaps all these questions should be answered in the affirmative. As a matter of fact, the treaty became a last experiment, as to whether it was possible for Prussia to go hand-in-hand with Austria. It must not, however, be forgotten that this much-deprecated treaty was very favorable to Prussia. Despite the co-domination, Prussia already, by geographical position, remained master in the Duchies, and was always stronger.
From Austria, Bismarck went with the King, by way of Munich and Frankfurt, to the Rhine, visited Baden-Baden and Homburg, attended the great review in the province of Saxony, near Merseburg, and then set out for the Duchy of Lauenburg, the special Minister of which he is, and finally sought for recreation at Biarritz.
On the 15th September, 1865, he was raised to the rank of a Prussian Count.
A short time after he had returned to Berlin by way of Paris he was taken ill, and remained an invalid throughout the winter, although he carried on business during the whole time with his accustomed energy.
To this period belongs a little episode, which we should not mention at all, did it not show very thoroughly how idle it is to trust rumor, and had, on the other hand, given Bismarck an opportunity[361] to write a letter to his old friend André von Roman, which soon appeared in the Berlin newspapers. A photographer at Gastein had issued a picture of Count Bismarck, and beside him the royal singer, Pauline Lucca. At this conjunction many friends of Bismarck were very angry; all sorts of nonsense was talked on the matter, and at last M. André felt himself compelled to write to Bismarck about it. Bismarck thus replied:—
Berlin, 26th December, 1865.
Dear André,—Although my time is very much taken up, I can not refrain from replying to an interpellation made by an honest heart, in the name of Christ. I am very sorry if I offend believing Christians, but I am certain that this is unavoidable for me in my vocation. I will not say that in the camps politically opposed to me there are doubtless numerous Christians far in advance of me in the way of grace, and with whom, by reason of what is terrestrial to us in common, I am obliged to live at war; I will only refer to what you yourself say.
“In wider circles nought of deeds or idleness remains concealed.”
What man breathes who in such a position must not give offense, justly or unjustly? I will even admit more, for your expression as to concealment is not accurate. I would to God that, besides what is known to the world, I had not other sins upon my soul, for which I can only hope for forgiveness in a confidence upon the blood of Christ! As a statesman, I am not sufficiently disinterested; in my own mind I am rather cowardly, and that because it is not easy always to get that clearness on the questions coming before me, which grows upon the soil of divine confidence. Whoever calls me an unconscientious politician does me injustice; he should try his own conscience first himself upon this arena. As to the Virchow business, I am beyond the years in which any one takes counsel in such matters from flesh and blood; if I set my life on any matter, I do it in the same faith in which I have, by long and severe strife, but in honest and humble prayer to God, strengthened myself, and in which no human words, even if spoken by a friend in the Lord and a servant of His Church, can alter me. As to attendance at church, it is untrue that I never visit the house of God. For seven[362] months I have been either absent or ill; who therefore can have observed me? I admit freely that it might take place more frequently, but it is not owing so much to want of time, as from a care for my health, especially in winter; and to those who feel themselves justified to be my judges in this, I will render an account—they will believe, even without medical details. As to the Lucca photograph, you would probably be less severe in your censure, if you knew to what accident it owes its existence. The present Frau von Radden (Mdlle. Lucca), although a singer, is a lady of whom, as much as myself, there has never been any reason to say at any time such unpermitted things. Notwithstanding this, I should, had I in a quiet moment thought of the offense which this joke has given to many and faithful friends, have withdrawn myself from the field of the glass pointed at us. You perceive, from the detailed manner in which I reply to you, that I regard your letter as well-intentioned, and by no means place myself above the judgment of those with whom I share a common faith. But, from your friendship and your own Christian feeling, I anticipate that you will recommend to my judges prudence and clemency in similar matters for the future—of this we all stand in need. If among the multitude of sinners who are in need of the glory of God, I hope that His grace will not deprive me of the staff of humble faith in the midst of the dangers and doubts of my calling, by which I endeavor to find out my path. This confidence shall neither find me deaf to censorious words of friendly reproof, nor angry with loveless and proud criticism. In haste, yours,
Bismarck.
Although this letter may have become public by an indiscretion which, under other circumstances, we should have deplored, we openly declare here that we do not regret the publication; and our readers will be of our opinion, without its being necessary to say more on the subject, or to qualify the contents of the letter.
We will close this chapter with some letters of Bismarck, written by him in his summer journeys of 1863, ’4, and ’5, when chiefly in attendance on the King, to his family, and generally to his wife.
[363]
Carlsbad, 7th July, 1863.
—— has my warmest sympathy; to lose children is worse than dying, it is so against the order of things. But however long it may last, one follows them. I have to-day had a very sunny walk, from twelve to two, along the Schweitzerthal, behind the Military Hospital, upward, and by Donitz on the Eger, above Carlsbad and the hills; then to the King, who, thank God, is getting on well, with three glasses of the waters. I am now living at the “Schild,” right opposite the Hirschen Sprung, and from my back windows I can see Otto’s H?he, Drei Kreuzberg, etc. It is very fine, and I am very well, but sometimes have a longing for home; to be with you in Reinfeld, and leave the whole Minister-world behind me.
Carlsbad, 13th July, 1863.
I think I shall to-morrow go to Schwarzenberg, and thence to the dusty Wilhelm Strasse, and remain there two days, and then meet the King either at Ratisbon or Salzburg, and go with him to Gastein. How long I shall remain there we shall see. I shall often long to be here again, amidst Aberg, Esterhazyweg, Hammer, Kehrwiederweg, and Aich, and I always knew how to get comfortably rid of acquaintances, or, when I met any, to hide myself in the bushes. To-day I have been at work nearly all day.
Berlin, 17th July, 1863.
Since the evening, of the day before yesterday I have been vegetating in our empty halls, smothered under the avalanche of papers and visits which tumbled in upon me as soon as my arrival was known. I am now going into the garden for half an hour, and just give you this sign of life. Yesterday I had a Russian dinner, to-day a French one. To-morrow I leave by way of Dresden, Prague, and Pilsen, for Ratisbon, back to the King, and stay with him at Gastein.
Nürnberg, 19th July, 1863.
I do not know whether I shall send this thick paper off from here, but I happen to have an unemployed moment, which I use to tell you that I am well. I yesterday went from Berlin to Dresden, have visited B. and R., who desire their best remembrances[364] (Countess R. also); I then slept at Leipzig for three hours only, but very well, and after five o’clock came on here, where I must await a train which is to bring me, about eleven at night, to the King at Ratisbon. N. N. has desired the presence of all sorts of people here, with whom I wish to have nothing to do, and for this purpose he has engaged the best hotel. I therefore selected another, which, as yet, has made no very favorable impression on me; better paper than this it does not possess. Add to this, that Engel has not a clean shirt in the bag, and my things are at the station, so that I sit here in railway dust and discomfort, waiting for a dinner, most probably bad of its kind.
Travelling agrees with me admirably; but it is very annoying to be stared at like a Japanese at every station. Incognito and its comforts have passed away, until some day, like others, I shall have had my day, and somebody else has the advantage of being the object of general ill-will. I should have been very glad to go via Vienna to Salzburg, where the King will be to-morrow. I could have lived our wedding-tour over again, but political reasons dissuaded me; people would have attributed God knows what plans to me, if I had reached there at the same time as ——. I shall, no doubt, see R. by chance at Gastein or Salzburg. I must finish this although my soup has not yet come; but I can not get on upon this paper, with a steel pen besides, or I shall get cramp in the fingers.
Salzburg, 22d July, 6 a.m.
From this charming little town I must write you the date at least, in the moment of my departure. The Roons are all below, waiting to say good-bye. Yesterday we were at K?nigsee, Edelweiss, and Bartholom?us.
Gastein, 24th July, 1863.
I wanted to send you Edelweiss herewith, but it is mislaid. Salzachofen I thought more imposing ten years ago. The weather was too fine. The road hither, which you did not see, is pretty, but not imposing. I here live opposite the King at the Waterfall—a child to that at Golling. I only saw two finer in the Pyrenees, but none greater. I have taken two baths, very pleasant, but tiring afterwards, unfitting one for work. From to-morrow[365] I shall bathe only at mid-day, and write before. The air is charming, but the neighborhood rather imposing than friendly. The King is well.
Gastein, 28th July, 1863.
As this day sixteen years ago brought sunshine into my wild bachelor life, so to-day it has rejoiced this valley, and I have seen it on a morning walk for the first time in all its beauty. Moritz would call it a giant dish full of cabbage, narrow and deep, the edges set round with white eggs. Steep sides, some thousand feet high, covered with furze and meadow-green, and huts of thatch, strewed here and there up to the snow-line, the whole surrounded by a wreath of white peaks and bands, richly powdered with snow during five rainy days, and the lower frontier of which the sun is causing gradually to grow higher. Dozens of silver threads run through the green from above—little water streams, tumbling down hastily, as if they were too late for the great fall which they make with the Ache close before my dwelling. The Ache is a river with somewhat more water than the Stolpe has near Strellin, and waltzes swiftly through all Gastein, falling down at different levels some hundreds of feet between rocks.
It is possible to live here in such weather, but I should prefer to have nothing to do, only to walk about on the heights, and sit down upon sunny banks, smoke, and look at the rocky snow-peaks through the telescope. There is little society here. I only mix with the retinue of the King, with whom dinner and tea bring me in daily contact. The rest of the time scarcely suffices for work, sleeping, bathing, and walking. I yesterday evening visited old —— with the Emperor, who is expected on the second. N. N. will come, and will complain to me that lying is the curse of this world. I have just heard that the King (who is very well, only he has hurt his ankle, and must sit still) keeps the courier till to-morrow, and this letter will not reach by post any sooner, as it would lose a day by being opened. I shall therefore leave it. Good Prince Frederick was yesterday released from his sufferings: the King was much overcome.
[366]
Gastein, 2d Aug., 1863.
Bill’s day was kept by me in fine weather, and the King was informed; he asked how old he was, and how industrious his godson might be. To-day the Emperor is coming, flags and garlands are the order of the day, the sun is shining, and I have not yet been out of my room; have been writing for three hours, therefore no more than hearty greetings. If I do not write by way of Berlin, I fall into the hands of the post-office here—certainly I write no secrets, but it is very unpleasant. The mare is in Berlin again. I bathe every day; it is agreeable, but tiring.
Gastein, 12th Aug., 1863.
I am very well, but the couriers are in terror in all directions. Yesterday I shot two chamois at an elevation of seven thousand feet—quite cooked, despite the height. On the 15th we leave here for Salzburg—the 16th, Stuttgart—17th, Baden. On account of the Frankfurt nonsense I can not leave the King.
Gastein, 14th Aug., 1863.
In order that you may see whether it is really quicker, I send this letter by the post, the courier starting at the same time. I have been writing for four hours, and have got so tired that I can hardly hold my pen. There has been a hot sun for a week, in the evenings storm. The King is well, but the baths have shaken him; he bathes daily, and works as if he were in Berlin; there is no saying any thing to him. God grant it may go well with him! To-day I take my last bath—twenty or twenty-one in all, in twenty-six days. I am very well, but worked to death. I am so engaged that I can see very few people. To-morrow evening we sleep at Salzburg—on the 16th, probably at Munich—the 17th, at Stuttgart, Constance, or Baden; it is uncertain. Write to Baden, where I shall probably stay a few days. A letter came from —— at Spa; perhaps I shall visit her there, but who knows ce qu’on devient in a week? Perhaps every thing will be different.
Baden, 28th Aug., 1863.
I really long to spend a lazy day among you; here, on the most charming days, I never get away from ink. Yesterday I[367] went for a walk till midnight, in the loveliest moonlight, through the fields, but can not get business out of my head; society also gives no rest. N. N. is charming to see, but talks too much politics to me; —— naturally is always full of rumors; ——, who is usually so delightful to me, has people about her who disturb my satisfaction; and new acquaintances are very troublesome. A. is especially pleasant. With him and E., who is here for two days, I yesterday dined in my apartment. The King is well, but besieged by intrigue. To-day I dine with Her Majesty the Queen. Schleinitz is here, Hohenzollern expected, Goltz gone to Paris. I think the King will not leave here till Sunday; a few days later I must be in Berlin; perhaps I shall have time in between for a trip to Spa, where I shall find O. Perhaps I shall have to go to the Queen of England, whom the King proposes to visit at Rosenau, near Coburg. In any case, I hope to have a few days free in September for Pomerania. I wish that some intrigue would necessitate another Ministry, so that I might honorably turn my back upon this ewer of ink, and live quietly in the country. The restlessness of this existence is unbearable; for ten weeks I have had secretary’s work at an inn, and again at Berlin. It is no life for an honest country nobleman, and I regard every one as a benefactor who seeks to bring about my fall. With this the flies are humming and tickling and stinging all over the room, so that I really want a change in my position, which in a few minutes the Berlin train will certainly bring me, by a courier with fifty empty dispatches.
Berlin, 4th September, 1863.
At last I find a moment to write to you. I had hoped to have a few days of recreation at Kr?chlendorff, but it is all the old treadmill over again; last night work till one o’clock, and I then poured the ink over it instead of sand, so that it ran down over my knees. To-day the Ministers were here at nine, and for the second time at one, and with them the King. The question for discussion was the dissolution of the Chamber, for which I had no heart. But it could not be otherwise; God knows what the use of it is. Now we shall have the Electoral swindle! With God’s help I am well through it all; but an humble reliance on God is required, not to despair of the future of our country.[368] May He, above all, grant our King good health! It is not very pleasant in this empty house, but I do not notice it on account of work. The horses have arrived to-day in much better condition. The trouble about the mare was groundless.
Bukow, 21st September, 1863.
I wished to-day, on the last day of summer, to write you a very comfortable and reasonable letter, and full of this idea lay down on the sofa three hours ago, but only woke a quarter of an hour before dinner, which is about six. At seven I had gone out to ride until half-past one, in the capacity of “Herr Oberstwachtmeister,” to see our brave soldiers burn powder and form attacks. I first joined Fritz, who commanded three regiments of cavalry, then went over to the Garde du Corps, stormed like a man over stock and block, and for a long time have had no pleasanter day. I am living next to the King, and two adjutants in a nice old house of Count Hemming’s; it is a pretty neighborhood, with hillocks, lakes, and woods, and, above all, there is nothing to do, after finishing my business with —— yesterday. To-morrow, I am sorry to say, I must go on the treadmill again: and now to dinner, having slept myself quite stupid, and wrenched my neck on the steep sofa. We had twenty persons at table, all sorts of foreign officers, Englishmen, Russians, besides the whole Federation in the house. I have no mufti clothes with me, so for forty-eight hours am wholly a major.
Berlin, 29th September, 1863.
I was so far ready on Saturday that I had only an interview with the King before me, and hoped to be with you on Sunday at noon. But the interview led to my having four hours of autograph work, and the necessity of seeing the King before his departure for Baden. There was just time for one day at Kr?chlendorff, whither I repaired on Saturday evening, after writing myself crooked and lame, to reach there at midnight. Yesterday morning drove to Passow, reached the King by five, and at a quarter to eight attended him to the railroad. To-day I accompany Moritz and Roon to Freienwalde, must see Bernhard about Kniephof, and hope to come to you the day after to-morrow, if there should remain time enough to make it worth while.[369] I am to follow the King to Baden; the “when” will be first known from our correspondence and the business in hand. If there should be time enough for me to remain two or three days at Reinfeld, I will come; if not, the harness-makers will preponderate over my rest, and I shall see you again here in Berlin. On the 17th I then shall probably return with the King from Cologne. M. is sitting opposite, and is working out at my table a joint matter.
Berlin, 27th October, 1863.
It is bitterly cold, but I am quite well. Are you also making fires up at Reinfeld? I hope so; we have been doing so here for more than a week. Yesterday, after dinner, I sat with K. in the blue saloon, and he was playing when I received your letter of Sunday. Indeed, the letter you wrote was written in quite a holiday humor. Believe in God, my heart, and on the proverb that barking dogs do not bite. I did not accompany the King to Stralsund, it being a tiring journey, and would retard my work for two days. This evening His Majesty has returned: the threats against his life are far more menacing than those directed against me; but this, too, is in the hands of God. Do not allow the last few fine days to be dimmed by care; and if you are coming, send some feminine being in advance to arrange every thing as you wish it. I must go to work. Farewell! This morning, at nine, only three degrees,[48] and a hot sun. The inclosed[49] I have twice received this morning from two different quarters.
Babelsberg, 1st November, 1863.
I employ a moment in which I am awaiting the King, who is dining at Sans-Souci, to write a line as if from Zarskoe or Peterhof, only to say that I am well, and am heartily rejoiced that I shall soon see you ruling again in the empty apartments at Berlin. On the 9th comes the Diet, with all its worry; but I think, on the day of the opening, I shall go with His Majesty to Letzlingen, and pass two days in the woods. During that time you will, I hope, have done with the hammering and dragging, the necessary accompaniment of your beloved advent, and on my return I shall then find every thing in the right place.
[370]
For the last few days I have been living alone, and industrious, have generally dined alone, and, except for a ride, have not left the house; have been quiet and bored; occasionally there has been a Council of Ministers. This week we shall probably have them daily in the matter of our dear Chambers; and as the King has been a week in Stralsund and Blankenburg, plenty of work has accumulated. I just hear his carriage-wheels, and close with hearty greetings.
Carlsbad, Tuesday, 1864.
God be thanked that you are all well; so am I, but more than ever engaged. At Zwickau on the Perron I met Rechberg; we came on together in one coupé and carriage to this place; thus we talked politics for six hours, and for the first time here. Yesterday evening at tea with the Grand Duchess, King Otho, Archduke Charles Frederick, many diplomatists, and much work with R.
Carlsbad, 20th July, 1864.
The King has just set out for Marienbad, through espaliers of beautiful ladies, with giant bouquets, which more than filled his carriage. R. with “Vivats,” “hurrah!” great excitement. For me there is now some leisure, all my acquaintances being gone. To-morrow morning early for Vienna; we shall sleep at Prague. Perhaps in a week we shall have peace with the Danes; perhaps this winter again war. I shall make my stay in Vienna as short as possible, to lose as few baths as possible at Gastein. After that, I shall probably accompany the King again to Vienna, then to Baden; then the Emperor of Russia is coming to Berlin in the beginning of September. Before that time there is no prospect of rest—if then.
Vienna, 22d July, 1864.
Yesterday morning I came with —— and —— and two others, who lend me their calligraphic aid, from Carlsbad, in a carriage as far as Prague; thence by railway hither to-day; unfortunately this time not to go by water to Linz, especially to worry myself and others. I am living with —— for the present; have seen nobody but R. I was rain-bound for two hours in the Volksgarten,[371] and listened to music. Stared at by the people as if I was a new hippopotamus for the Zoological Gardens, for which I consoled myself with some very good beer. How long I shall remain here I can not tell; to-morrow I have many visits to pay; dine with R. in the country; then, if possible, conclude peace with Denmark, and fly as swiftly as possible, to the mountain in Gastein. I wish it were all over. The two days of journeying have somewhat mentally rested me, but in body I am very tired, and say good-night to you.
Vienna, 27th July, 1864.
I have received one letter from you here, and long for the second. I lead an industrious life—four hours a day with tough Danes, and am not at the end yet. By Sunday it must be settled whether we are to have peace or war. Yesterday I dined with M——; a very agreeable wife, and pretty daughters. We drank a good deal, were very merry, which is not often the case in their sorrow, of which you are aware. He has grown gray and has cut his hair short. Yesterday, after the conference, I dined with the Emperor at Sch?nbrunn, took a walk with R—— and W——, and thought of our moonlight expedition. I have just been for an hour in the Volksgarten, unfortunately not incognito, as I was seventeen years ago—stared at by all the world. This existence on the stage is very unpleasant when one wishes to drink a glass of beer in peace. On Saturday I hope to leave for Gastein, whether it is peace or no. It is too hot for me here, particularly at night.
Gastein, 6th August, 1864.
Work gets continually worse; and here, where I can do nothing in the morning after the bath, I do not know when to get time for any thing. Since my arrival on the 2d, in a storm with hailstones as hard as bullets, I have just been able, in magnificent weather, for the first time, to go out by rule. On my return, I wish to employ the half-hour at my disposal in writing to you. A—— was, however, here immediately, with plans and telegrams, and I must be off to the King. I am, however, by the blessing of God, quite well. I have had four baths, but shall hardly get more than eleven, as the King sets out on the 15th.[372] Since yesterday I have been very comfortably lodged, as a large cool corner room, with a magnificent landscape, was vacant; until then I had-been living in a sun-blinding oven, at least by day. The nights are pleasantly fresh. The King probably goes hence to Vienna in short day journeys, by way of Ischl, and thence to Baden. Whether I shall accompany him to the latter place is uncertain. I still hope to get away for a few days to my quiet Pomerania; but what is the use of plans?—something always comes in between. I have not a gun with me, and every day there is a chamois-hunt; certainly, I have also had no time. To-day seventeen were shot, and I was not there; it is a life like that of Leporello:—
“Neither rest by day or night,
Naught to make my comfort right.”
7th August.
Just now I had the whole room full of ladies, flying from the rain, which relieves guard with the sun to-day. Fr—— from R——, with, two cousins, Frau von P——, a Norwegian. I have long since heard no feminine voice, not since Carlsbad. Farewell!
Sch?nbrunn, 20th August, 1864.
It is too strange that I should be living in the rooms on the ground-floor, abutting on the private reserved garden where, very nearly seventeen years ago, we intruded in the moonlight. If I look over my right shoulder I can see, through a glass door, the dark beech clump-hedge by which we wandered, in the secret delight of the forbidden, up to the glass window behind which I am living. It was then inhabited by the Empress, and I now repeat our walk by moonlight at greater ease. The day before the day before yesterday I left Gastein; slept at Radstedt. The day before yesterday went, in misty weather, to Aussee—a charmingly situated place; a beautiful lake, half Traunsee and half K?nigssee; at sunset reached the Hallst?dtersee; thence, by boat, in the night, to Hallstadt, where we slept. Next morning was pleasant and sunny; at noon we reached the King at Ischl, and so, with His Majesty, over the Traunsee to Gmunden, where we passed the night, and I thought a great deal of L——, H——,[373] and B——, and all those times. To-day, by steamer, hither, arriving about six, passing two hours with R——, after convincing myself that —— is one of the most beautiful women, of whom all pictures give a false idea. We stay here three days; what follows, whether Baden or Pomerania, I cam not yet foresee. I am now heartily tired, so wish you and all of ours good-night.
Sch?nbrunn, Thursday.
The King went early this morning to Salzburg; I follow him to-morrow. This morning I killed fifty-three pheasants, fifteen hares, and one karinckel; and yesterday eight stags and two moufflons. I am quite lame in hand and cheek from shooting. To-morrow evening it will be decided whether I am to go to Baden, but now I go to bed. Good-night all, for I am very tired.
[374]
Baden, 1st September, 1864.
The King arrived this morning from Mainau, well and cheerful, having been through the rain with the Queen to the races. A.’s busy hand continually shakes over me new blessings of projects, as soon as I have worked through the old ones. I do not know whence I wrote to you last; I have hardly come to my senses since Vienna; slept one night in Salzburg, the second at Munich; conferred much and lengthily with N. N., who has grown thin. I then slept at Augsburg, and thence came, by way of Stuttgart, to this place, in the hope of passing two days in lazy rest, but only had two hours’ intermission in the forest yesterday morning. Couriers, ink, audiences, and visits, constantly buzz round me without interruption. —— is also here. I dare not show myself on the promenade; no one leaves me at peace.
Frankfurt, 11th September, 1864.
It is long since I have written to you hence, and never from the Zeil. We alighted at the Russian Embassy; the King has driven to the Emperor Alexander at Jugenheim; thence he visits the Empress Eugénie at Schwalbach, and I have got myself free for a day, which I spend with K. at Heidelberg. I accompany her to Heidelberg, shall be back here about two or three—time enough to devote myself to the Diet; to-morrow morning early to Berlin, whence, after the necessary cavilling, I shall start for Pomerania.
Bordeaux, 6th October, 1864.
Excuse this scrawl, but I have no paper at hand, and only wish to apprise you that I have reached this place safely. It seems almost like a dream to be here again. Yesterday morning I started from Baden, slept very well at Paris, set out this morning about eleven, and now at eleven p.m. am here. I think of leaving for Bayonne to-morrow morning at eight, to reach Biarritz by two. In Paris it was still cold; in Baden yesterday there was an early frost; on this side of the Loire things grew better; here it is decidedly warm—warmer than any night this year. I am, in fact, already quite well, and would be quite cheerful if I only knew that all was well with you. At Paris I felt very much inclined to live there again; he had arranged the house[375] there very well, and the life I lead in Berlin is a kind of penal servitude when I think of my independent life abroad. If it agree with me, I think I shall take about fifteen baths, so that on the 21st or 22d I shall set out on my return journey; if God wills, you will then be—or perhaps somewhat earlier—at Berlin. In his care, Engel has locked me in; there is no bell, and this letter will lose a day, as it can not be sent to the post to-night. It is so warm that I have the window open.
Biarritz, 9th October, 1864.
When I remember how assiduously we lighted fires in Baden, and even in Paris, and that here the sun graciously requests me to take off my paletot and drawers, that we sat till ten by the sea in the moonlight, and this morning breakfast in the open air, and that I am writing to you at the open window, looking at the blue and sunny sea, and on bathing folks who are wandering about in very slight costumes, paddling with naked feet in the water, I can not help saying that southern nations possess a peculiar grace of God in their climate. I shall not yet bathe more than once, but shall soon venture upon two, if not, à la ——, upon more. The only comfort I require is to hear from you. If we were free people, I should propose to you to come with child and baggage to this place, and remain here the whole winter, as many of the English do, from reasons of economy, which prevails here in the winter season.
Biarritz, 12th October, 1864.
My dear Sister,—I am so delightfully disengaged that I can send a few lines in the direction of my thoughts! I am well, particularly since I have yesterday and to-day at last received news of Johanna’s gradual recovery. I reached here on the forenoon of the 7th—in Paris we still had fires, from Bordeaux an agreeable temperature, and here heat so that summer clothing was necessary. Since yesterday there has been a north wind, and it is cooler, but still warmer than I have felt it all the summer. A very light summer coat was too hot for me on my evening’s walk by the shore. Until now I have taken seven baths, and now proceed with two per diem. I am writing to you by the open window, with flickering lights, and the moonlit sea before me, the[376] plash of which is accompanied by the carriage bells on the road to Bayonne. The lighthouse in front of me changes its light from red to white, and I am looking with some appetite at the clock, to see whether the dinner hour of seven has not arrived. I have not for a long time found myself in such comfortable climatic and business conditions, and yet the evil habit of work has rooted itself so deeply in my nature that I feel some disquiet of conscience at my laziness—almost long for the Wilhelm Strasse, at least if my dear ones were there. “Monsieur, le diner est servi,” is the announcement.
The 13th.—I could not yesterday write any further. After dinner we took a moonlight walk on the southern shore, from which we returned, very tired, at about eleven o’clock. I slept till nine; about ten bathed in water of 14° warmer[50] than ever I had found the North Sea in August; and now we are going together to Fuent Arabia, beyond the frontier; shall dine on our way back at St. Jean de Luz. The weather is heavenly to-day, the sea quiet and blue; it is almost too hot to walk in the sun.
[377]
Izazu, 17th October, 1864.
Although I have this morning sent you a letter by the courier, pour la rareté du fait, I must write to you from this remarkable place. We breakfasted here, three miles to the east of Biarritz, in the mountains, and are seated in charming summer weather at the edge of a rushing stream, the name of which we can not learn, as nobody speaks French—nothing but Basque. There are high narrow rocks before and behind us, with heather, ferns, and chestnuts all around. The valley is called Le Pas de Roland, and is the west end of the Pyrenees. Before we went off we took our baths—the water cold, the air like July. The courier dispatched, we had a charming drive through mountains, forests, and meadows. After eating and drinking, and climbing ourselves tired, our party of five are sitting down reading to each other, and I am writing myself on the lid of the box in which were the grapes and figs we brought with us. At five we shall return with the sunset and moonlight to Biarritz, and dine about eight. It is too pleasant a life to last. The 20th, the evening before last, we went to Pau. It was heavy and sultry there, and at night storm and rain; we were in the railway, but came from Bayonne hither by carriage; the sea magnificent. After it had been as smooth as a duck-pond for some days with the land winds, it now looks like a boiling caldron, and the wind is warm and moist with it; the sun alternates with rain—very Atlantic weather.
To-day I take my fourteenth bath; I shall hardly get more than fifteen, for it seems I must to-morrow leave this warm shore. I am still striving between duty and taste; but I fear the first will conquer. I will first take my bath, and then decide whether it shall be the penultimate one. Anyhow, the fourteen days I have spent here have done me good, and I only wish I could transport you, without travelling discomfort, hither or to Pau.
Paris, 25th October, 1864.
Before going to bed, after a tiring day, I will announce to you my fortunate arrival here. Yesterday noon I left dear Biarritz; they were making hay in the meadows when I started in the hot sun. Friends accompanied me as far as Bayonne; at about 6 a.m. I arrived here. Plenty of politics, audience at St. Cloud, a dinner at Drouyn de Lhuys’s, and now I am going to bed tired out.
[378]
Carlsbad, 12th July, 1865.
I am ashamed that I did not write to you on your birthday; but there is so much of “must” in my life that I scarcely ever get to “will.” The treadwheel goes on from day to day, and I seem as if I were the tired horse in it, pushing it along without getting any forwarder. One day after the other a courier arrives, one day after the other another departs—between whiles come others from Vienna, Munich, or Rome; the burden of papers increases, ministers are all at odds, and from this centre I am obliged to write to each of them singly.
The review I hope to stop; as far as I know, the actual return has not yet reached the King; but I have brought the matter forward, and His Majesty has promised to examine into the provision question for man and horse. To-morrow I will inquire in the military cabinet as to how far the writing has got.
Late in the evening, the 13th.
The whole day I have been writing, dictating, reading, going down and up the mountain as to the report to the King. The courier’s bag and my letter are both closing. Across the table I see the Erzgebirge, along the Tepl by the evening twilight, very beautiful; but I feel leathery and old. The King starts from here on the 19th, five days off, for Gastein, whither the Emperor designs to come. On the road I will see —— somewhere in Bavaria. “Neither rest by day nor night.” It looks ugly for peace—it must be settled at Gastein.
Gastein, 4th August, 1865.
I begin to count the days I shall have to sit through in this fog-chamber. As to what the sun looks like, we have only dark reminiscences from a better past. Since this morning it has at least been cold; until then sultry moist heat, with a change only in the form of rain, and continued uncertainty as to whether one gets wet with rain or perspiration, when one stumps up and down the esplanade steps in the mud. How people with nothing to do can endure it I do not understand. What with bathing, work, dinner, reports, and tea at His Majesty’s, I have scarcely time to realize the horrors of the situation. These last three days there has been a theatre of comedians here; but one is almost ashamed to go, and most people avoid the passage through the rain. I[379] am very well through it all, particularly since we have had Kaltenh?user beer. —— and —— are dreadfully cast down from not knowing what to drink. The landlord gives them bad beer in order to force them to drink worse wine. Other news than this there is none from this steam-kitchen, unless I talk politics.
Gastein, 14th August, 1865.
For some days I have had no time to send you any news. Count Blome is here again, and we are zealously laboring at the maintenance of peace, and the repair of the fissures in the buildings. The day before yesterday I devoted a day to the chase. I think I wrote you word how fruitless the first was. This time[380] I have at least shot a young chamois, but saw no others in the three hours during which I abandoned my motionless self to the experiments of the most various insects; and the prattling activity of the waterfall beneath me convinced me of the deep-rooted feeling which caused some one before my time to express the wish, “Streamlet, let thy rushing be!” In my room, also, this wish is justified both by day and by night—one breathes on reaching any place where the brutal noise of the waterfall can not be heard. In the end, however, it was a very pretty shot, right across the chasm; killed first fire, and the brute fell headlong into the brook, some church-steeple’s height beneath me. My health is good, and I feel myself much stronger. We start on the 19th—that is Saturday—for Salzburg. The Emperor will probably make his visit there, and one or two days will be spent besides at Ischl. The King then goes to Hohenschwangau. I go to Munich, and join His Majesty again at Baden. What next may follow depends upon politics. If you are in Homburg long enough, I hope to take a trip over to you from Baden—to enjoy the comforts of domesticity.
Baden, 1st September, 1865.
I reached this place the day before yesterday morning, slept till half-past twelve, then had much hard work; dinner with the King—long audience. In the evening a quartette at Count Flemming’s with Joachim, who really performs on his violin in a most wonderful way. There were many acquaintances of mine on the race-course yesterday whom I did not very well remember.
September begins rainy. Two-thirds of the year are gone just when one has grown accustomed to write 1865. Many princes are here. At four —— wants to see me; she is said to have grown very beautiful. The King leaves at five—it is undecided whether to Coblenz or Coburg, on account of Queen Victoria, whom he desires to meet. I hope in any case to pass by way of Frankfurt on the 5th or 6th. Whether, or how long, I can be in Homburg, will soon be seen—longer than one day in no case, as I must be with the King in Berlin.
[381]
Baden, Sunday.
That you may see what a husband you have, I send you the route. We go to-morrow morning, at six o’clock, to Coburg, to the Queen of England. I must go too, and I am sorry to say Spa is all over for me; but it can not be otherwise.