Bismarck

Friday, February 10th. Fresh complaints respecting the intrigues of Dalwigk, and especially the measures for depriving the national constituencies in Hesse of their representatives and securing the victory of the Ultramontane and Democratic coalition. The Chief desires me to see that an “immediate and energetic campaign in the press” is organised against these and other mischievous proceedings inspired by Beust’s friends. He also wishes the Moniteur to reprint the long list of French officers who have broken their parole and escaped from Germany.

We were joined at dinner by the Duke of Ratibor and a Herr von Kotze, the husband of the Chief’s niece. Strousberg, a business friend of the Duke’s, was mentioned, and the Chief observed that nearly all, or at least very many of the members of the Provisional Government were Jews: Simon, Cremieux, Magnin, also Picard, whose Semitic origin he would hardly have suspected, and “very probably Gambetta also, from his features.” “For the same reason, I suspect even Favre,” he added.

Saturday, February 11th.—In the morning I read the newspapers, and particularly certain debates in the English Parliament at the end of last month. It really looks as if our good friends across the Channel had a suspicious leaning towards France, and as if they were not at all disinclined to interfere once more—indeed, in certain circumstances, an Anglo-French alliance would appear quite possible. It is a question, however, whether they might not fall between two stools. A very different result might well ensue. From what one hears and reads in the newspapers, the feeling in this country is almost as hostile to the English as to ourselves, and in certain circles more so. It may well happen that if England adopts a threatening attitude towards us, we may surprise our cousins in London with the very reverse of a Franco-English alliance against Germany. We may even be obliged to seriously consider the forcible restoration of Napoleon, which we have not hitherto contemplated. According to a telegram of the 2nd inst., Bernstorff is to see that these ideas are cautiously ventilated in the press.

Count Henckel and Bleichröder dined with us. It seems that in the negotiations with the French financiers, Scheidtmann described them to their faces in language more vigorous than flattering, talking of them as pigs, dogs, rabble, &c., in ignorance of the fact that some of them understood German. The Chief then spoke of the insolence of the Parisian press, which behaved as if the city were not in our power: “If that goes on we must tell them that we will no longer stand it. It must cease, or we shall answer their articles by a few shells from the forts.” Henckel having alluded to the unsatisfactory state of public opinion in Alsace, the Chief said that, properly speaking, no elections ought to have been allowed there at all, and he had not intended to allow them. But inadvertently the same instructions were sent to the German officials there as elsewhere. The melancholy situation of the Prince of Rumania was then referred to, and from the Rumanian Radicals the conversation turned to Rumanian stocks. Bleichröder said that financiers always speculated on the ignorance of the masses, and upon their blind cupidity. This was confirmed by Henckel, who said: “I had a quantity of Rumanian securities, but after I had made about 8 per cent. I got rid of them, as I knew they could not yield 15 per cent, and that alone could have saved them.” The Chief then related that the French were committing all sorts of fraud in the revictualling of Paris. It was not out of pride that they refused our contributions, but merely because they could make no profit out of them. Even members of the Government were involved, and Magnin was understood to have recently made 700,000 francs on the purchase of sheep. “We must let them see that we know that,” said the Chief, glancing at me; “it will be useful in the peace negotiations.” This was done without delay.

After dinner I wrote some paragraphs on the instructions of the Chief. The first was to the effect that we ought no longer to tolerate the insolence of the Parisian journalists. However generous and patient we might be, it was past endurance that the French press should venture to deride and insult to his face the victor who stood before the walls of the capital which he had absolutely in his power. Moreover, such mendacity and violence would prove an obstacle to the conclusion of peace, by producing bitterness on both sides and delaying the advent of a calmer spirit. This could not be foreseen when the armistice Convention was concluded, and in discussing any prolongation of the truce, effective means would have to be found for preventing further provocation of the kind. Undoubtedly the best way would be the occupation of the city itself by our troops. We should thus relieve the French Government of a source of grave anxiety, and avert the evil consequences of inflammatory articles in the press, which they are perhaps not in a position to repress.

Sunday, February 12th.—It is announced in a telegram from Cassel that Napoleon has issued a proclamation to the French. The Minister handed it to me, saying: “Please have this published in our local paper. It is in order to lead them astray, so that they may not know where they stand. But for God’s sake don’t date it from Wilhelmshöhe, or they will think that we are in communication with him. ‘Le bureau Wolff télégraphie.’” The Chief seems to be unwell. He does not come to dinner.

Wednesday, February 15th.—I again draw attention in the Moniteur to the disgraceful tone of the Parisian press. I intimate that this agitation is delaying the conclusion of peace, and that the most certain way of putting an end to it would be the occupation of Paris.

Wednesday, February 22nd.—During the last week I have written a number of articles and paragraphs, and despatched about a dozen telegrams.

The Assembly at Bordeaux shows a proper appreciation of the position. It has declined to support Gambetta, and has elected Thiers as chief of the Executive and spokesman on behalf of France in the negotiations for peace which began here yesterday. At dinner yesterday, at which we were joined by Henckel, the Chief remarked, with reference to these negotiations, “If they were to give us another milliard we might perhaps leave them Metz, and build a fortress a few miles further back, in the neighbourhood of Falkenberg or towards Saarbrücken—there must be some suitable position there. I do not want so many Frenchmen in our house. It is the same with Belfort, which is entirely French. But the soldiers will not hear of giving up Metz, and perhaps they are right.”

Generals von Kameke and von Treskow dined with us to-day. The Chief spoke about his second meeting with Thiers to-day: “On my making that demand” (what the demand was escaped me), “he jumped up, although he is otherwise quite capable of controlling himself, and said, ‘Mais c’est une indignité!’ I did not allow that to put me out, however, but began to speak to him in German. He listened for a while, and evidently did not know what to make of it. He then said in a querulous voice, ‘Mais, Monsieur le Comte, vows savez bien que je ne sais point l’allemand.’ I replied, speaking in French again, ‘When you spoke just now of indignité I found that I did not know enough French, and so preferred to use German, in which I understand what I say and hear.’ He immediately caught my meaning, and wrote down as a concession the demand which he had previously resented as an indignité.”

The Chief continued: “Yesterday he spoke of Europe, which would intervene if we did not moderate our demands. But I replied, ‘If you speak to me of Europe I shall speak to you of Napoleon.’ He would not believe that they had anything to fear from him. I proved the contrary to him, however. He should remember the plebiscite and the peasantry, together with the officers and soldiers. It was only under the Emperor that the Guards could again have the position which they formerly occupied; and with a little cleverness it could not be difficult for Napoleon to win over 100,000 soldiers among the prisoners in Germany. We should then only have to arm them and let them cross the frontier, and France would be his once more. If they would concede good conditions of peace we might even put up with one of the Orleans, though we knew that that would mean another war within two or three years. If not, we should have to interfere, which we had avoided doing up to the present, and they would have to take Napoleon back again. That, after all, must have produced a certain effect upon him, as, to-day, just as he was going to talk about Europe again, he suddenly broke off and said, ‘Excuse me.’ For the rest, I like him very well. He is at least highly intelligent, has good manners, and is an excellent story-teller. Besides, I often pity him, for he is in an extremely awkward position. But all that can’t help him in the least.”

With regard to the war indemnity, the Chief said: “Thiers insisted that fifteen hundred million francs was the maximum, as it was incredible how much the war had cost them. And in addition to that everything supplied to them was of bad quality. If a soldier only slipped and fell down, his trousers went to pieces, the cloth was so wretched. It was the same with the shoes which had pasteboard soles, and also with the rifles, particularly those from America.” I replied: “But just imagine, you are suddenly pounced upon by a man who wants to thrash you, and after defending yourself and getting the better of him, you demand compensation—what would you say if he asked you to bear in mind how much he had had to pay for the stick with which he had intended to beat you, and how worthless the stick had proved to be? However there is a very wide margin between fifteen hundred and six thousand millions.”

The conversation then lost itself—I can no longer remember how—in the depths of the Polish forests and marshes, turning for a while on the large solitary farm houses in those districts and upon colonisation in the “backwoods of the east.” The Chief said: “Formerly when so many things were going wrong—even in private affairs—I often thought that if the worst came to the worst I would take my last thousand thalers and buy one of those farms out there and set up as a farmer. But things turned out differently.”

Later on, diplomatic reports were again discussed, and the Chief, who seems in general to have a poor opinion of them said: “For the most part, they are just paper smeared with ink. The worst of it is that they are so lengthy. In Bernstorff’s case, for instance, when he sends a ream of paper filled with stale newspaper extracts—why, one gets accustomed to it! But when some one else writes at interminable length, and as a rule there is nothing in it, one becomes exasperated. As for using them some day as material for history, nothing of any value will be found in them. I believe the archives are open to the public at the end of thirty years—but it might be done much sooner. Even the despatches which do contain information are scarcely intelligible to those who do not know the people and their relations to each other. In thirty years time who will know what sort of a man the writer himself was, how he looked at things, and how his individuality affected the manner in which he presented them? And who has really an intimate knowledge of the people mentioned in his reports? One must know what Gortschakoff, or Gladstone, or Granville had in his own mind when making the statements reported in the despatch. It is easier to find out something from the newspapers, of which indeed governments also make use, and in which they frequently say much more clearly what they want. But that also requires a knowledge of the circumstances. The most important points, however, are always dealt with in private letters and confidential communications, also verbal ones, and these are not included in the archives.

“The Emperor of Russia, for instance, is on the whole very friendly to us—from tradition, for family reasons, and so on—and also the Grand Duchesse Hélène, who influences him and watches him on our behalf. The Empress, on the other hand, is not our friend. But that is only to be ascertained through confidential channels and not officially.”

Thursday, February 23rd.—We retain Metz, but not Belfort. It has been practically decided that a portion of our army shall enter Paris.

And I write the following intimation for the Moniteur:—

“The arrogance with which the Parisian press insults and abuses the victorious German army that stands outside the gates of the capital has been frequently stigmatised by us as it deserves. We have likewise pointed out that the occupation of Paris by our troops would be the most effectual means of putting an end to this sort of insolence. At the present moment these lies and calumnies and provocations know no bounds. For instance, the Figaro of the 21st of February, in a feuilleton entitled ‘Les Prussiens en France,’ and signed Alfred d’Aunay, charges German officers and the Germans in general with the most disgraceful conduct such as theft and pillage. We learn that these proceedings, which we forbear to characterise, have entirely frustrated the efforts made by the Parisian negotiators to prevent the German army entering into Paris. We are positively assured that the entry of the German forces into the French capital will take place immediately after the expiration of the armistice.”

Friday, February 24th.—Thiers and Favre were here from 1 to 5.30 P.M. After they left, the Duc de Mouchy and the Comte de Gobineau were announced. The object of their visit was to complain of the oppressive action of the German Prefect at Beauvais, who is apparently rather harsh, or at least not very conciliatory or indulgent. The Chief came to dinner in plain clothes for the first time during the war. Is this a sign that peace has been concluded? He again complained that when he went to see the King, the Grand Dukes, “with their feminine curiosity, pestered him with questions.” With regard to the deputation from Beauvais, Hatzfeldt said that Mouchy and Gobineau were both sensible men and Conservatives, and that our Prefect, Schwarzkoppen, bullied them and the other notables of the town and neighbourhood in an unpardonable way. Amongst other things, two days before the expiration of the term on which a contribution of two millions was to be paid, they brought him a million and a half and said that the balance would follow shortly, whereupon he told them brutally that he was there for the purpose of ruining them and meant to do so, and he threatened to have them locked up in order to “coerce” them, which was not in the least necessary. The Chief was very angry and called Schwarzkoppen a “blockhead.”

Saturday, February 25th.—Unpleasant news has again been received from Bavaria. Werther (who, it is true, is described by Bucher as unreliable and a visionary) writes that Count Holnstein regards the condition of King Lewis with very great anxiety. Prince Adalbert, who combines “the Wittelsbach haughtiness with Jesuitry,” is inciting him against us. He asserts that he signed the treaties under pressure. Before every Court dinner and even before every audience he drinks large quantities of the strongest wines, and then says the most extraordinary things to every one without distinction of persons. He wants to abdicate and leave the crown to his brother Otto, who, however, has no wish for it, and he is always inquiring about deadly poisons, &c. The Ultramontanes are aware of all this, and their candidate for the Reichstag, Prince Luitpold, is also their candidate for the throne, and they mean to get him chosen in spite of Prince Otto’s claims.

Wednesday, March 1st.—In the morning I crossed the bridge of boats at Suresnes to the Bois de Boulogne where, from the half-ruined stand on the racecourse, I saw the Emperor review the troops before they marched into Paris.

We were joined at dinner by Mittnacht, and the Würtemberg Minister, von Wächter, who was formerly attached to the Embassy in Paris, and while there did his utmost against Prussia. The Chief said he had ridden in to Paris, and was recognised by the populace, but there was no demonstration against him. He rode up to one man who looked particularly vicious, and asked him for a light, which he willingly gave.

The Chancellor afterwards took occasion once more to speak his mind out on the obtrusiveness of certain princely personages. “They are like flies,” he said, “there is no getting rid of them. But Weimar is the worst of the lot. He said to me to-day, ‘Please tell me where did you disappear to so quickly yesterday? I should have been glad to put some further questions to you.’ I replied, ‘That was exactly it, your Royal Highness. I had business to do, and could not enter into a lengthy conversation.’ He fancies that the whole world has been created merely for his sake, for his amusement, the improvement of his education, and the satisfaction of his curiosity, which is insatiable, and he has absolutely no tact.” Somebody observed that as a rule when he talks he does not think of what he says, but rather repeats phrases that he has learnt by rote. Mittnacht told another story about this august personage. “Some one was introduced to him: ‘Ah, very pleased indeed, I have heard so much to your credit. Let me see, what was it I heard?’”

Thursday, March 2nd.—Favre arrived this morning at 7.30 A.M., and wished to be shown in to the Chief. Wollmann declined to wake him, however, at which the Parisian Excellency was very indignant. Favre wanted to inform the Chancellor of the news he had received during the night that the National Assembly at Bordeaux had ratified the preliminaries of peace, and thereupon to ask that Paris and the forts on the left bank of the Seine should be evacuated. This request was submitted in a letter which he left behind him.

Sunday, March 5th.—We leave to-morrow, first going to Lagny and thence to Metz. The Chief is present at dinner. The conversation first turned upon our landlady, Madame Jesse, who put in an appearance either to-day or yesterday and made a variety of complaints to the Minister as to the damage we are supposed to have done to her property. He replied that was the way in war, particularly when people deserted their homes. Besides she had reasons to be thankful that she had got off so easily. The little table on which the Treaty of Peace was signed is to be taken with us to Germany. Taglioni, who is to remain behind a few days with the King, is instructed to have it replaced by an exactly similar piece of furniture. In speaking of the preparations for our departure the Chief says: “Kühnel thinks we ought not to travel by night, as Lorraine will be haunted, and they might lay something on the rails.” I replied, “Then I will travel incognito as the Duke of Coburg. Nobody owes him a grudge. He is regarded as perfectly innocent—and with justice.”

Monday, March 6th.—A lovely morning. Thrushes and finches warble the signal for our departure. At 1 o’clock the carriages get under way, and with light hearts we drive off towards the gate that we entered five months ago, and passed Villa Coublay, Villeneuve Saint Georges, Charenton, and La Fasanerie to Lagny, where we take up our quarters for the night.

We leave here next day by a special train for Metz, where we arrive late at night. We put up at an hotel, while the Chief stays with Count Henckel at the Prefecture. Next morning we stroll through the town, visit the cathedral, and survey the neighbourhood from the bastions of the fortress. Shortly before 11 o’clock we are again in the train, and travel by Saarbrücken and Kreuznach to Mainz, and thence to Frankfurt.

The Chief has an enthusiastic reception everywhere along the line and particularly at Saarbrücken and Mainz. Frankfurt is the only exception. We arrive there at a late hour, and start again in the night. At 7.30 on the following morning we reach Berlin, after exactly seven months’ absence. All things considered, everything has been done during those seven months which it was possible to do.