Bismarck

Wednesday, November 16th.—The Chief is still unwell. One of the causes is supposed to be his mortification at the course of the negotiations with the South German States (which once more seem as if they would come to a standstill) and at the conduct of the military authorities, who have on various occasions neglected to consult him, although the matters dealt with were not merely military questions.

Count Waldersee dines with us. The Chief complains once more that the military authorities are proceeding too slowly for him, and do not inform him of all matters of importance. He had only succeeded, “after repeated requests,” in getting them to send him at least those particulars which they telegraph to the German newspapers. It was different in 1866. He was then present at all councils, and his view was frequently accepted. For instance, it was due to him that a direct attack upon Vienna was given up, and that the army marched on to the Hungarian frontier. “And that is only as it should be. It is necessary for my business. I must be informed of the course of military operations, in order that I may know the proper time at which to conclude peace.”

Thursday, November 17th.—Alten and Prince Radziwill are the Chief’s guests at dinner. A rumour is mentioned to the effect that Garibaldi and 13,000 of his volunteers have been made prisoners. The Minister observed: “That is really disheartening—to make prisoners of 13,000 franctireurs who are not even Frenchmen! Why have they not been shot?”

He then complained that the military authorities so seldom consulted him. “This capitulation of Verdun, for instance—I should certainly not have advised that. To undertake to return their arms after peace had been concluded, and still more to let French officials continue the administration as they please. The first condition might pass, as the conditions of peace might provide that the weapons should not be returned. But that librement! It ties our hands in the interval, even should they place all kinds of obstacles in our way and act as if there were absolutely no war. They can openly stir up a rising in favour of the Republic, and under this agreement we can do nothing to prevent them.” After dwelling upon this topic for some time, the Minister concluded by saying: “At all events, such a capitulation is unprecedented in history.”

Some one referred to the article written by a diplomat in the Indépendance Belge prophesying the restoration of Napoleon. “No doubt,” observed the Chancellor, “Napoleon fancies something of the kind will happen. Moreover, it is not entirely impossible. If he made peace with us he might return with the troops he has now in Germany. Something in the style of Klapka’s Hungarian Legion on a grand scale, to work in co-operation with us. And then his Government is still the legal one. Order being once restored, he would at the outside require an army of 200,000 men for its maintenance. With the exception of Paris, it would not be necessary to garrison the large towns with troops. Perhaps Lyons and Marseilles. The National Guards would be sufficient for the protection of the others. If the republicans were to rise in rebellion they could be bombarded and shelled out.”

A telegram reporting Granville’s statement with regard to the Russian declaration concerning the Peace of Paris was sent by the King to the Chief, who read it over to us. It was to the effect that Russia, in taking upon herself to denounce a portion of the Treaty of 1856, assumed the right to set aside the whole on her own initiative, a right which was only possessed by the signatory Powers collectively. England could not tolerate such an arbitrary course, which threatened the validity of all treaties. Future complications were to be apprehended. The Minister smiled, and said: “Future complications! Parliamentary speech-makers! They are not going to venture. The whole tone is also in the future. That is the way in which one speaks when he does not mean to do anything. No, there is nothing to be feared from them now, as there was nothing to be hoped from them four months ago. If at the beginning of the war the English had said to Napoleon, ‘There must be no war,’ there would have been none.”

After a while the Minister continued: “Gortschakoff is not carrying on in this matter a real Russian policy (that is, one in the true interests of Russia), but rather a policy of violent aggression. People still believe that Russian diplomats are particularly crafty and clever, full of artifices and stratagems, but that is not the case. If the people at St. Petersburg were clever they would not make any declaration of the kind, but would quietly build men-of-war in the Black Sea and wait until they were questioned on the subject. Then they might reply that they knew nothing about it, but would make inquiries, and so let the matter drag on. That might continue for a long time, and finally people would get accustomed to it.”

Another telegram announced the election of the Duke of Aosta as King of Spain. The Chief said: “I pity him—and them. He is, moreover, elected by a small majority—not by the two-thirds originally intended. There were 190 votes for him and 115 against.” Alten was pleased that the monarchical sentiments of the Spaniards had ultimately prevailed. “Ah, those Spaniards!” exclaimed the Chief. “They have no sense of what is honourable or becoming! They showed that on the outbreak of this war. If only one of those Castilians who pretend to have a monopoly of the sense of honour had but expressed his indignation at the cause of the present war, which was after all Napoleon’s intervention in their previous election of a king, interfering with their free choice and treating them as vassals!... As a matter of fact, these Spaniards are all mere Angelo de Mirandas,—he was formerly a card sharper, and then confidant of Prim’s and probably also of the King’s.” After the Chief had made some further remarks, some one said that it was now all over with the candidature of the Prince of Hohenzollern. “Yes,” replied the Chief, “but only because he wishes it to be so. A couple of weeks ago I told him that it was still time. But he no longer wanted to go on.”

Saturday, November 19th.—We were joined at dinner by General von Werder, the Prussian Military Plenipotentiary at St. Petersburg. The Chief, who looked very pleased, said, shortly after entering the dining-room: “Well, we shall probably be able to come to an understanding with Bavaria.” “Yes,” exclaimed Bohlen, “something of that kind has already been telegraphed to one of the Berlin papers.” “I am sorry for that,” replied the Minister; “it is premature. But of course, wherever there is a mob of princes who have nothing to do and who feel bored, nothing can be kept secret!”

The conversation then turned on Vienna and Count Beust. The Chief said Beust had apologised for the recent discourteous note. It was written by Biegeleben, and not by himself. The reference to Biegeleben led to the discussion of the Gagern family and to the once celebrated Heinrich von Gagern (President of the Reichstag in the Paulskirche at Frankfurt). “I remember,” the Chief said, “in 1850 or 1851, Manteuffel was instructed to bring about an understanding between the Gagern and the Conservative sections of the Prussian party—at least, as far as the King was disposed to go in the cause of German unity. Manteuffel selected Gagern and myself for this purpose, and so we were both invited one day to a souper à trois at his place. At first there was little or no mention of politics, but Manteuffel afterwards made some excuse for leaving us alone. When he left I immediately began to talk politics, explaining my standpoint to Gagern in a plain, business-like way. You should have heard Gagern! He assumed his Jove-like aspect, lifted his eyebrows, ran his fingers through his hair, rolled his eyes and cast them up to heaven so perpendicularly that you could hear the joints in his neck crack, and poured out his grand phrases to me as if I were a public meeting. Of course, that did not help him much with me. I replied coolly, and we remained divided as before. When Jupiter had retired, Manteuffel asked, ‘Well, what arrangement have you come to together?’ ‘Oh,’ I replied, ‘no arrangement at all. The man is a fool. He takes me for a public meeting! A mere watering-can of fine phrases! Nothing can be done with him.’”

The subject of the bombardment having been introduced, the Chief said: “I told the King again yesterday that it was time to begin, and he had no objection to make. He replied that he had given orders to begin, but that the generals said they could not. I know exactly how it is. It is Stosch, Treskow, and Podbielski.”

Some one asked: “And Hindersin?”

“He is also against it,” said the Chief. “Podbielski” (so I understood him to say) “could be brought round. But the other two are influenced by considerations affecting their own future.”

It appeared from some further remarks of the Minister that, in his opinion, first Queen Victoria, and then, at her instance the Crown Princess, and, finally, the Crown Prince, persuaded by his consort, will not have Paris bombarded; while the generals “cannot” bombard the city out of consideration for the views of the Crown Prince, who will, of course, be the future King, and will have the appointment of Ministers of War, commandants of army corps, and field marshals.

The late General von Möllendorff having been mentioned, the Minister related the following anecdote: “I remember after the March rising, when the King and the troops were at Potsdam, I went there too. A council was being held as to what was to be done. Möllendorff was present, and sat not far from me. He seemed to be in pain, and could scarcely sit down for the beating he had received. All kinds of suggestions were made, but no one knew exactly what was to be done. I sat near the piano and said nothing, but played a few bars” (he hummed the opening of the infantry march for the charge). “Old Möllendorff suddenly stood up, his face beaming with pleasure, and, hobbling over, threw his arms round my neck, and said: ‘That’s right. I know what you mean. March on Berlin!’ There was nothing to be done with the King, however, and the others had not the pluck.”

After a while the Chancellor asked Werder: “How much does each visit to the Tsar cost you?” I do not know what Werder’s answer was, but the Chief went on: “It was always a rather costly business for me—particularly in Zarskoje. There I had always to pay from 15 to 20 and sometimes 25 roubles, according as I drove out to see the Emperor with or without an invitation. It was always more expensive in the former case. I had to fee the coachman and footman who brought me, the majordomo who received me—he wore a sword when I came on invitation, and then the running footman who conducted me through the whole length of the castle—it must be about a thousand yards—to the Emperor’s apartments. Well, he really earned his five roubles. And one never got the same coachman twice. I could never recover these expenses. We Prussians were altogether badly paid. Twenty-five thousand thalers salary and 8,000 thalers for rent. For that sum I certainly had a house as large and fine as any palace in Berlin. But all the furniture was old, shabby, and faded, and when I had paid for repairs and other odds and ends it cost me 9,000 a year. I found, however, that I was not obliged to spend more than my salary, and so I helped myself out of the difficulty by not entertaining. The French Minister had 300,000 francs, and was in addition allowed to charge his Government with the expense of any receptions which he chose to look upon as official.”

“But you had at least free firing,” said Werder, “and at St. Petersburg that amounts to something considerable in the course of the year.”

“Excuse me, but I had not,” replied the Chief, “I was obliged to pay for that too. Food would not have been so dear if the officials had not made it so. I remember once seeing some very good timber in a Finnish boat. I asked the peasants what the price was and they mentioned a very moderate figure. But when I wanted to buy it they asked if it was for the Treasury (he used the Russian term). I was imprudent enough to reply that it was not for the Imperial Treasury (he again used the Russian words) but for the Royal Prussian Legation. When I came back to have the wood removed they had disappeared. Had I given them the address of a tradesman, with whom I could afterwards have made an arrangement, I might have got the wood at a third of the price I usually paid. They evidently regarded the Prussian Minister as one of the Tsar’s officials and thought to themselves: ‘No, when it comes to payment he will say that we have stolen the wood, and have us locked up until we give it to him for nothing.’” The Chief then gave some instances of the way in which the Tschinowniks harassed and exploited the peasantry, and afterwards returned to the subject of the poor pay of Prussian Ministers as compared with those of other countries. “It is just the same in Berlin,” he said. “The Prussian Minister has 10,000 thalers, but the English Ambassador has 63,000, and the Russian 44,000, while the latter’s Government bears the cost of all entertainments, and if the Tsar stays with him he usually receives a full year’s salary as compensation. Of course, in such circumstances, we cannot keep pace with them.”

Tuesday, November 22nd.—Prince Pless, Major von Alten, and a Count Stolberg dine with us. Mention is made of a great discovery of first-rate wine in a cellar near Bougival, which has been confiscated in accordance with the laws of war. Bohlen complains that none of it has reached us. Altogether the Foreign Office is as badly provided as possible. Care is always taken to set apart the most uncomfortable lodgings for the Chief, and they have been invariably lucky in finding such. “Yes,” said the Chancellor, laughing, “it is pure churlishness on their part to treat me like that. And so ungrateful, as I have always looked after their interests in the Diet. But they shall see me thoroughly transformed. I started for the war devoted to the military, but I shall go home a convinced Parliamentarian. No more military budgets.”

Prince Pless praises the Würtemberg troops. They make an excellent impression and come next to our own in the matter of military bearing. The Chancellor agrees but thinks the Bavarians also deserve commendation. He appears to be particularly pleased at the summary way in which they shoot down the “franc-voleurs.” “Our North German soldiers follow orders too literally. When one of those footpads fires at a Holstein dragoon he gets off his horse, runs after the fellow with his heavy sword and catches him. He then brings him to his lieutenant, who either lets him go or hands him over to his superior officer—which comes to the same thing, as he is then set free. The Bavarian acts differently. He knows that war is war, and keeps up the good old customs. He does not wait until he is shot at from behind, but shoots first himself.”

In the evening I prepared Bernstorff’s despatch respecting the capture of a German ship in English waters by the French frigate Desaix for our press; also the letter to Lundy on the export of arms from England to France; and finally arranged that our papers should no longer defend Bazaine against the charge of treason, “as it does him harm.”

Wednesday, November 23rd.—This morning I asked Bucher how the Bavarian Treaties were getting on and whether they would not be finally settled this evening. “Yes,” was the reply, “if nothing happens in the meantime—and it need not be anything very important. Could you imagine what it was that recently nearly wrecked the negotiations? The question of collars or epaulettes! The King of Bavaria wanted to retain the Bavarian collar, while his Majesty wished to have it replaced by ours. The Chief, however, finally brought him round by saying: ‘But, your Majesty, if the Treaty is not concluded now, and in ten years’ time perhaps the Bavarians are arrayed against us in battle, what will history say when it becomes known that the negotiations miscarried owing to these collars?’ Moreover, the King is not the worst—but rather the Minister of War.” As I was then called away I could not for the moment unriddle this mystery. I afterwards learned that the question was whether the Bavarian officers should in future wear the badge of their rank on their collars as hitherto, or on their shoulder straps like the North German troops. Bucher having alluded to the strong Republican sympathies which Alten had yesterday displayed, Pless also observed: “Really if we had known what sort of people these Princes were at the time we were discussing the Criminal Code in the Diet we should not have helped to make the provisions respecting lèse-majesté so severe.” The Chief remarked, with a laugh: “Every one of us has already deserved ten years’ penal servitude if all our jibbing at princes during the campaign were proved against us.”

We were joined at dinner by Count Frankenberg and Prince Putbus. Both wore the Iron Cross. The guests mentioned that people were very anxious in Berlin for the bombardment to begin and grumbled a great deal at its postponement. The rumour as to the influence of certain great ladies being one of the causes of the delay appears to be very widespread. “I have often told the King so,” said the Chief, “but it cannot be done; they will not have it.” “The Queen?” suggested some one. “Several queens,” corrected the Chancellor, “and princesses. I believe also that Masonic influences and scruples have helped.” He then again declared that he regarded the investment of Paris as a blunder. “I have never been in favour of it. If they had left it alone we should have made more progress, or at least we should have had a better position before Europe. We have certainly not added to our prestige by spending eight weeks outside Paris. We ought to have left Paris alone and sought the French in the open country. But otherwise the bombardment ought to have begun at once. If a thing has to be done, do it!”

The conversation then turned upon the treatment of the French rural population, and Putbus related that a Bavarian officer had ordered a whole village to be burned to the ground and the wine in the cellars to be poured out into the gutter because the inhabitants of the place had acted treacherously. Some one else observed that the soldiers at some other place had given a fearful dressing to a curé who had been caught in an act of treachery. The Minister again praised the energy of the Bavarians, but said with regard to the second case: “One ought either to treat people as considerately as possible or to put it out of their power to do mischief—one or the other.” After reflecting for a moment, he added: “Be civil to the very last step of the gallows, but hang all the same. One should only be rude to a friend when one feels sure that he will not take it amiss. How rude one is to his wife, for instance! That reminds me, by the way, Herr von Keudell, will you please telegraph to Reinfeld, ‘If a letter comes from Count Bismarck hold it back, and forward it to the Poste Restante or to Berlin’? I have written various things to my wife which are not overflowing with loyal reverence. My father-in-law is an old gentleman of eighty-one, and as the Countess has now left Reinfeld, where she was on a visit to him, he would open and read the letter and show it to the pastor, who would tell his gossips about it, and presently it would get into the newspapers.”

Bleibtreu’s sketch representing General Reille as he came up the hill at Sedan to deliver Napoleon’s letter to the King was then mentioned, and some one remarked that from the way in which the general was taking off his cap, he looked as if he were going to shout Hurrah! The Chief said: “His demeanour was thoroughly dignified and correct. I spoke to him alone while the King was writing his reply. He urged that hard conditions should not be imposed upon a great army which had fought so bravely. I shrugged my shoulders. He then said rather than submit they would blow up the fortress. I said, ‘Well, do so—faites sauter!’ I asked him then if the Emperor could still depend upon the army and the officers. He said yes. And whether his instructions and orders still held good in Metz? Reille answered this question also in the affirmative, and, as we saw, he was right at the time.... If Napoleon had only made peace then I believe he would still be a respected ruler. But he is a silly fool! I said so sixteen years ago when no one would believe me. Stupid and sentimental. The King also thought for the moment that it would be peace, and wanted me to say what conditions we should propose. But I said to him ‘Your Majesty, we can hardly have got as far as that yet.’ Their Highnesses and Serene Highnesses then pressed so close to us that I had twice to beg the King to move further off. I should have preferred to tell them plainly, ‘Gentlemen, leave us alone; you have nothing to do here.’ The one thing which prevented me from being rude to them was that the brother of our Most Gracious was the ringleader and chief offender of the whole prying mob.”

About 10 o’clock I went down to tea, and found Bismarck-Bohlen and Hatzfeldt still there. The Chief was in the salon with the three Bavarian Plenipotentiaries. In about a quarter of an hour he opened one side of the door, bent his head forward with his friendliest look, and came in with a glass in his hand and took a seat at the table.

“Well,” he said, his voice and looks betraying his emotion, “the Bavarian Treaty is made and signed. German unity is secure, and the German Emperor too.” We were all silent for a moment. I then begged to be allowed to bring away the pen with which he had signed it. “In God’s name, bring all three,” he said; “but the gold one is not amongst them.” I went and took the three pens that lay near the document. Two of them were still wet. Two empty champagne bottles stood close by. “Bring us another bottle,” said the Chief to the servant. “It is an event.” Then, after reflecting for a while, he observed: “The newspapers will not be satisfied, and he who writes history in the usual way may criticise our agreement. He may possibly say, ‘The stupid fellow should have asked for more; he would have got it, as they would have been compelled to yield.’ And he may be right so far as the ‘compelled’ is concerned. But what I attached more importance to was that they should be thoroughly pleased with the thing. What are treaties when people are compelled to enter into them! And I know that they went away pleased.... I did not want to squeeze them or to make capital out of the situation. The Treaty has its deficiencies, but it is for that reason all the more durable. The future can supply those deficiencies.... The King also was not satisfied. He was of opinion that such a Treaty was not worth much. My opinion is quite different. I consider it one of the most important results which we have attained during recent years. I finally succeeded in carrying it through by exciting apprehensions of English intervention unless the matter were speedily settled.... As to the question of the Emperor, I made that proposal palatable to them in the course of the negotiations by representing that it must be easier and more satisfactory for their sovereign to concede certain rights to the German Emperor than to the neighbouring King of Prussia.”

On the Minister then speaking somewhat slightingly of the King of Bavaria, he was like a boy, did not know his own mind, lived in “dreams,” and so on—Abeken (who had entered in the meantime, and was naturally aggrieved at these remarks) said: “But surely the young King is a very nice man!” “So are all of us here,” said the Chief, as he looked round at the whole company one after another. Loud laughter from the Centre and the Left. Over a second bottle of champagne which he drank with us, the Chief came (I forget how the subject was introduced) to speak of his own death. He asserted that he should die in his 71st year, a conclusion which he arrived at from some combination of figures which I could not understand. I said: “Excellency must not do that. It would be too early. One must drive away the Angel of Death!”

“No,” he replied. “In 1886—still fifteen years. I know it. It is a mystic number.”

Thursday, November 24th.—Busily engaged all the morning with various articles on the Treaty with Bavaria, written in the sense of the Chief’s utterances of last night. Wollmann told me that a Colonel Krohn had arrested a lawyer at a place in the Ardennes for having treacherously entered into communication with a band of franctireurs, and the court-martial having sentenced the man to death, he had presented a petition for pardon. The Chief had, however, written to the Minister of War to-day that he would advise the King to let justice take its course.

Colonel Tilly, of the General Staff, and Major Hill are the Chief’s guests at dinner to-day. The Minister again complained that the military authorities do not communicate sufficient information to him and too seldom consult him. “It was just the same with the appointment of Vogel von Falkenstein, who has now locked up Jacoby. If I have to speak on that subject in the Reichstag, I shall wash my hands of the matter. They could not possibly have done more to spoil the broth for me.” “I came to the war,” he repeated, “disposed to do everything for the military authorities, but in future I shall go over to the advocates of Parliamentary government, and if they worry me much more, I shall have a chair placed for myself on the extreme Left.”

The Treaty with Bavaria was then mentioned, and it was said that the difficulties which had been encountered arose partly on the National side, on which the Minister observed, “It is really remarkable how many clever people there are who, nevertheless, understand nothing about politics. For instance, the man who always sat on my right here (Delbrück). A very clever man, but no politician.”

Suddenly changing the subject, he said: “The English are beside themselves, and their newspapers demand war on account of a note which is nothing more than a statement of opinion on a point of law—for that is all that Gortschakoff’s Note amounts to.”

Later on the Minister returned once more to the postponement of the bombardment, which he regarded as dangerous from a political standpoint. “Here we have now collected this enormous mass of siege artillery. The whole world is waiting for us to begin, and yet the guns remain idle up to the present. That has certainly damaged us with the neutral Powers. The effect of our success at Sedan is very seriously diminished thereby, and when one thinks on what grounds.” One of the causes of the delay brought him to speak of the Crown Princess, of whom he said: “She is in general a very clever person, and really agreeable in her way, but she should not interfere in politics.” He then again related the anecdote about the glass of water which he told me near Crehanges, only this time it was in French that the Princess spoke.

Friday, November 25th.—In the morning I cut out for the King an article from the Neue Freie Presse, in which Granville’s note is described as timid and colourless; and arrange for the republication by all our papers in France of the telegram of July last, in which Napoleon stated that the whole French people approved of the declaration of war which he had just despatched.

Whilst I was walking with Wollmann in the afternoon, he told me an anecdote of the Chief which is very neat—although I must add that my informant is not quite trustworthy. Wollmann said: “On the night of the 14th to the 15th of June, 1866, Manteuffel telegraphed that he had crossed the Elbe, and asked how he was to treat the Hanoverians. Thereupon the Minister wrote the answer: ‘Treat them as countrymen, if necessary to death.’ He asked me: ‘Do you understand that?’ ‘Yes, Excellency,’ I replied. ‘All right then,’ he added, ‘but, you see, it is for a general.’”

Saturday, November 26th.—Wrote several articles, including one on Trochu’s extraordinary production in the Figaro of the 22nd instant, praising those whom he considered specially deserving of commendation in the defence of the city. The Chief read over to me some of the passages he had marked, saying: “These heroic deeds of the defenders of Paris are mostly of such an ordinary kind that Prussian generals would not think them worth mentioning; while others are mere swagger and obvious impossibilities. Trochu’s braves have made more prisoners when they are all reckoned up than the whole French army during the entire investment of Paris. Then here is this Captain Montbrisson, who is commended for having marched at the head of his column to the attack, and had himself lifted over a wall in order to reconnoitre,—that was merely his duty. Then here this theatrical vanity, where Private Gletty made prisoners of three Prussians, par la fermeté de son attitude. The firmness of his attitude! And our Pomeranians ate humble pie before him! That may do for a Boulevard theatre, or a circus,—but in reality! Then this Hoff, who on several occasions slaughtered in single combat no less than twenty-seven Prussians! He must be a Jew, this triple nine-pounder! Probably a cousin of Malz-Hoff of the Old or New Wilhelmstrasse—at any rate a Miles Gloriosus. And finally this Terreaux, who captured a fanion, together with the porte-fanion. That is a company flag for marking the line—which we do not use at all. And the Commander-in-Chief of an army officially reports such stuff! Really this list of commendations is just like the battle pictures in the gallery of toutes les gloires de la France, where each drummer at Sebastopol and Magenta is preserved for posterity, simply because he beat his drum.”

At dinner the Chief complained: “I was yesterday visited by a whole series of misfortunes, one on top of the other. First of all some one wanted to see me on important business (Odo Russell). I send word requesting him to wait for a few moments, as I am engaged on a pressing matter. On my asking for him a quarter of an hour later, I find he has gone, and possibly the peace of Europe is at stake.

“Then I go to see the King as early as 12 o’clock, and the consequence is that I fall into the hands of the Grand Duke of Weimar, who obliges me, as his Chancellor, to listen to a letter which he has written to an august personage (the Emperor of Russia), and thus wastes a good deal of my time.... I am to tell him what I think of the letter, but I decline to do so. Have I then anything to object to it? he asked in a piqued tone. I cannot say that either, although I would observe that I should have written the letter differently. What do I wish altered? I stick to my point, and say I cannot express an opinion, because if the letter went with my corrections I should be held responsible for its contents. ‘Well, then, I must speak to the King.’ ‘Do so,’ I reply coolly, ‘and take over the office of Chancellor of the Confederation, if you like. But if the letter goes off, I for my part shall immediately telegraph to the place of destination that I have had nothing to do with it.’ I thus lost an hour, so that telegrams of great importance had to wait, and in the meantime, decisions may have been arrived at and resolutions taken which would have very serious consequences for all Europe, and might change the political situation. That all came of its being a Friday. Friday negotiations, Friday measures!”

Bucher told me the Crown Prince recently said to the Chancellor that too little had been secured by the Bavarian Treaty. After such great successes we ought to have asked for more. “Yes; but how were we to get it?” asked the Chief. “Why, we ought to force them,” was the Crown Prince’s reply. “Then,” said the Chancellor, “I can only recommend your Royal Highness to begin by disarming the Bavarian Army Corps here,” a remark which, of course, was intended ironically.

Sunday, November 27th.—We were joined at dinner by Count Lehndorff and Count Holnstein. The latter is Master of the Horse to King Lewis, and one of his confidential advisers.

The Chief spoke at first of the Russian question. He said: “Vienna, Florence, and Constantinople have not yet expressed their views; but St. Petersburg and London have done so, and those are the most important factors. There, however, the matter is satisfactory.”

Subsequently affairs at Munich were discussed. Holnstein observing, amongst other things, that the French Legation had greatly deceived themselves before the outbreak of the war as to the attitude of Bavaria. They judged by two or three ardently Catholic and anti-Prussian salons, and even thought that Prince Luitpold would become King. The Chief replied: “I never doubted that Bavaria would join us, but I had not hoped that she would decide so speedily to do so.”

Holnstein told us that a shoemaker in Munich had made a good deal of money by letting his windows, from which a good view could be had of the captured Turcos as they marched by, and presented seventy-nine florins to the fund for the wounded soldiers. People had come even from Vienna to see that procession. This led the conversation to the shooting of these treacherous Africans, on which the Chief said: “There should have been no question of making prisoners of these blacks.” Holnstein: “I believe they do not do so any longer.” The Chief: “If I had my way every soldier who made a black man prisoner should be placed under arrest. They are beasts of prey, and ought to be shot down. The fox has the excuse that Nature has made him so, but these fellows—they are abominably unnatural. They have tortured our soldiers to death in the most shameful way.”