Bismarck

In the preceding chapter I broke off my narrative at the French frontier. We recognised that we had crossed it by the notices posted in the villages, “Département de la Moselle.” The white roads were thronged with conveyances, and in every hamlet troops were billeted. In these hilly and partially wooded districts we saw small camps being pitched here and there. After about two hours’ drive we reached Forbach, which we passed through without stopping. In the streets through which we drove the signboards were almost entirely French, although the names were chiefly German. Some of the inhabitants who were standing at their doors greeted us in passing. Most of them, however, looked sulky, which, although it did not add to their beauty, was natural enough, as they had evidently plenty of soldiers to provide quarters for. The windows were all full of Prussians in blue uniforms. We thus jogged on, up hill and down dale, reaching Saint Avold about half-past four. Here we took up lodgings, Chancellor and all, with a M. Laity, at No. 301 Rue des Charrons. It was a one-storey house, but rather roomy, with a well-kept fruit and vegetable garden at the back. The proprietor, who was said to be a retired officer, and appeared to be well to do, had gone away with his wife the day before, leaving only a maid and an old woman, who spoke nothing but French. In half an hour we had fixed up our office and chosen our sleeping quarters. Work began without delay. As there was nothing to be done in my department, I tried to assist in deciphering the despatches, an operation which offers no particular difficulties.

At seven o’clock we dined with the Chancellor in a little room looking out on a small courtyard with some flower beds. The conversation at table was very lively, the Minister having most to say. He did not consider a surprise impossible, as he had satisfied himself during his walk that our outposts were only three-quarters of an hour from the town and very wide apart. He had asked at one post where the next was stationed, but the men did not know. He said: “While I was out I saw a man with an axe on his shoulder following close at my heels. I kept my hand on my sword, as one cannot tell in certain circumstances what may happen; but in any case I should have been ready first.” He remarked later on that our landlord had left all his cupboards full of underclothing, adding: “If this house should be turned into an ambulance hospital, his wife’s fine underlinen will be torn up for lint and bandages, and quite properly. But then they will say that Count Bismarck took the things away with him.”

We came to speak of the disposal of the troops in action. The Minister said that General Steinmetz had shown himself on that occasion to be self-willed and disobedient. “Like Vogel von Falkenstein, his habit of taking the law into his own hands will do him harm in spite of the laurels he won at Skalitz.”

There was cognac, red wine, and a sparkling Mainz wine on the table. Somebody mentioned beer, saying that probably we should be unable to obtain it. The Minister replied: “That is no loss! The excessive consumption of beer is deplorable. It makes men stupid, lazy and useless. It is responsible for the democratic nonsense spouted over the tavern tables. A good rye whiskey is very much better.”

I cannot now remember how or in what connection we came to speak about the Mormons. The Minister was surprised at their polygamy, “as the German race is not equal to so much—Orientals seem to be more potent.” He wondered how the United States could tolerate the existence of such a polygamous sect. The Count took this opportunity of speaking of religious liberty in general, declaring himself very strongly in favour of it. But, he added, it must be exercised in an impartial spirit. “Every one must be allowed to seek salvation in his own way. I shall propose that one day, and Parliament will certainly approve. As a matter of course, however, the property of the Church must remain with the old churches that acquired it. Whoever retires must make a sacrifice for his conviction, or rather his unbelief.” “People think little the worse of Catholics for being orthodox, and have no objection whatever to Jews being so. It is altogether different with Lutherans, however, and that church is constantly charged with a spirit of persecution, if it rejects unorthodox members. But it is considered quite in order that the orthodox should be persecuted and scoffed at in the press and in daily life.”

After dinner the Chancellor and Councillors took a walk in the garden from which a large building distinguished by a flag with the Geneva Cross was visible at a little distance to the right. We could see a number of nuns at the windows who were watching us through opera glasses. It was evidently a convent that had been turned into a hospital. In the evening one of the deciphering clerks expressed great anxiety as to the possibility of a surprise, and we discussed what should be done with the portfolios containing State papers and ciphers in such circumstances. I tried to reassure them, promising to do my utmost either to save or destroy the papers, should necessity arise.

There was no occasion for anxiety. The night passed quietly. Next morning as we were at lunch a green Feldjäger, or Royal Courier, arrived with dispatches from Berlin. Although such messengers usually make rapid progress, this one had not travelled any quicker than I had done in my fear to arrive too late. He left on Monday, the 8th of August, and had several times taken a special conveyance, yet he had spent nearly four days on the way, as it was now the 12th. I again assisted the Decipherers. Afterwards, while the Minister was with the King, I visited the large and beautiful town church with the Councillors, the chaplain showing us round. In the afternoon, while the Minister was out for a ride, we inspected the Prussian artillery park on a neighbouring height.

We dined at four, on the Chancellor’s return. He had ridden a long way in order to see his two sons, who were serving as privates in a regiment of dragoon guards, but found that the German cavalry had already pushed forward towards the upper reaches of the Moselle. He was in excellent spirits, evidently owing to the good fortune which continued to favour our cause. In the course of the conversation, which turned on mythology, the Chief said he could never endure Apollo, who flayed Marsyas out of conceit and envy, and slew the children of Niobe for similar reasons. “He is the genuine type of a Frenchman, one who cannot bear that another should play the flute better than, or as well as, himself.” Nor was Apollo’s manner of dealing with the Trojans to the Count’s taste. The straightforward Vulcan would have been his man, or, better still, Neptune—perhaps because of the Quos ego!—but he did not say.

After rising from table we had good news to telegraph to Berlin for circulation throughout the whole country, namely, that there were ten thousand prisoners in our hands on the 7th of August, and that a great effect had been produced on the enemy by the victory at Saarbrücken. Somewhat later we had further satisfactory particulars to send home. The Minister of Finance in Paris, evidently in consequence of the rapid advance of the German forces, had invited the French people to deposit their gold in the Bank of France instead of keeping it in their houses.

There was also some talk of a proposed proclamation forbidding and finally abolishing the conscription in the districts occupied by the German troops. We also heard from Madrid that the Montpensier party, some politicians belonging to the Liberal Union such as Rios Rosas and Topete, as well as various other party leaders, were exerting every effort to bring about the immediate convocation of the representative assembly in order that the Provisional Government should be put an end to by the election of a King. The Duc de Montpensier, whom they had in view as a candidate, was already in the Spanish capital. The Government, however, obstinately opposed this plan.

Early next morning we broke up our quarters and started for the small town of Falquemont, which we now call Falkenberg. The road was thronged with long lines of carts, artillery, ambulances, military police, and couriers. While some detachments of infantry marched along the highway, others crossed the stubble fields to the right, being guided by wisps of straw tied to poles stuck in the ground. Now and then we saw men fall out of the ranks and others lying in the furrows, fagged out, while a pitiless August sun glared down from a cloudless sky. Thick yellow clouds of dust raised by the marching of the troops followed us into Falkenberg, a place of about two thousand inhabitants, where I put up at the house of the baker, Schmidt. We lost sight of the Minister in the crowd and dust, and I only afterwards ascertained that he had gone on to see the King at the village of Herny. The march of the troops through the town continued almost uninterruptedly the whole day. A Saxon regiment, which was stationed quite near us, frequently sent their caterers to our baker for bread, but the supply was soon exhausted owing to the enormous demand.

In the afternoon some Prussian hussars brought in a number of prisoners in a cart, including a Turco who had exchanged his fez for a civilian’s hat. In another part of the town we witnessed a brawl between a shopman and one of the female camp-followers who had stolen some of his goods, which she was obliged to restore. So far as I could see, our people always paid for what they asked, sometimes doing even more.

The people where I lodged were very polite and good humoured. Both husband and wife spoke a German dialect, which was occasionally helped out with French words. From the sacred pictures which were hung on the walls they appeared to be Catholics. I had an opportunity later on of doing them a small service, when some of our soldiers insisted willy nilly upon a supply of bread, which the baker was unable to give them, as there were only two or three loaves in the shop. But I must do my countrymen the justice to say that they wanted the food badly, and were willing to pay for it. I proposed a compromise, which was accepted; each soldier was at once to get a good slice and as much as ever he required next morning.

On Sunday, the 14th of August, after luncheon, we followed the Minister to Herny. He had taken up his quarters in a whitewashed peasant’s house, a little off the High Street, where his window opened upon a dung-hill. As the house was pretty large we all joined him there. Count Hatzfeldt’s room also served as our office. The King had his quarters at the parish priest’s, opposite the venerable old church. The village consisted of one long wide street, with some good municipal buildings. At the railway station we found everything in the wildest confusion, the whole place littered with torn books, papers, &c. Some soldiers kept watch over two French prisoners. For several hours after 4 P.M. we heard the heavy thunder of cannon in the direction of Metz. At tea the Minister said: “I little thought a month ago that I should be taking tea with you, gentlemen, to-day in a farmhouse at Herny.” Coming to speak of the Duc de Grammont, the Count wondered that, on seeing the failure of his stupid policy against us, he had not joined the army in order to expiate his blunders. He was quite big and strong enough to serve as a soldier. “I should have acted differently in 1866 if things had not gone so well. I should have at once enlisted. Otherwise I could never have shown myself to the world again.”

I was frequently called to the Minister’s room to receive instructions. Our illustrated papers were to publish pictures of the charge at Spichernberg, and also to deny the statement of the Constitutionnel that the Prussians had burnt down everything on their march, leaving nothing but ruins behind them. We could say with a clear conscience that we had not observed the least sign of this. It was also thought well to reply to the Neue Freie Presse, which had hitherto been well disposed towards us, but had now adopted another policy, possibly because it had lost some subscribers who objected to its Prussophile tone, or perhaps there was something in the rumour that the Franco-Hungarian party intended to purchase it. The Chancellor, in giving instructions respecting another article of the Constitutionnel, concluded as follows: “Say that there never was any question in the Cabinet Council of a cession of Saarbrücken to France. The matter never went beyond the stage of confidential inquiries, and it is self-evident that a national Minister, inspired by the national spirit, could never have dreamt of such a course. There might, however, have been some slight basis for the rumour. A misunderstanding or a distortion of the fact that previous to 1864 the question was raised whether it would not be desirable to sell the coal mines at Saarbrücken, which are State property, to a company. I wanted to meet the expenses of the Schleswig-Holstein war in this way. But the proposal came to nothing, owing to the King’s objections to the transaction.”

On Monday, August 15th, about 6 A.M., the Minister drove off in his carriage, accompanied by Count Bismarck-Bohlen, and followed on horseback by Herr Abeken, Herr von Keudell, and Count Hatzfeldt. The rest of us remained behind, where we had plenty of work on hand, and could make ourselves useful in other ways. Several detachments of infantry passed through the village during the day, amongst them being three Prussian regiments and a number of Pomeranians, for the most part tall, handsome men. The bands played “Heil dir im Siegerkranz,” and “Ich bin ein Preusse.” One could see in the men’s eyes the fearful thirst from which they were suffering. We speedily organised a fire brigade with pails and jugs and gave as many as possible a drink of water as they marched by. They could not stop. Some took a mouthful in the palms of their hands, whilst others filled the tin cans which they carried with them, so that at least a few had some momentary relief.

Our landlord, Matthiote, knew a little German, but his wife only spoke the somewhat unintelligible French dialect of this part of Lorraine. They were thought not to be too friendly towards us, but the Minister had not observed it. He had only seen the husband, and said he was not a bad fellow. “He asked me as he brought in the dinner if I would try his wine. I found it very tolerable, but on my offering to pay for it he declined, and would only accept payment for the food. He inquired as to the future frontier, and expected that they would be better off in the matter of taxation.”

We saw little of the other inhabitants of the village. Those we met were polite and communicative. An old peasant woman whom I asked for a light for my cigar led me into her room and showed me a photograph of her son in a French uniform. Bursting into tears she reproached the Emperor with the war. Her pauvre garçon was certainly dead, and she was inconsolable.

The Councillors returned after 3 o’clock, the Minister himself coming in a little later. In the meantime we were joined by Count Henckel, a portly gentleman with a dark beard, Herr Bamberger, a member of the Reichstag whom Count Bohlen was accustomed to call the “Red Jew,” and a Herr von Olberg, who was to be appointed to an administrative position of some kind. We began to feel ourselves masters of the conquered country and to make our arrangements accordingly. As to the portion which we at that time proposed to retain permanently a telegram to St. Petersburg which I helped to cipher said that if it were the will of Providence we intended to annex Alsace.

We heard at dinner that the King and the Chancellor, accompanied by General Steinmetz, had made a reconnaissance which took them within about three English miles of Metz. The French troops outside the fortress had been driven into the city and forts on the previous day by Steinmetz’s impetuous attack at Courcelles.

In the evening, as we sat on a bench outside the door, the Minister joined us for a moment. He asked me for a cigar, but Councillor Taglioni, the King’s decipherer, was quicker than I, which was a pity, as mine were much better. At tea the Chancellor mentioned in the course of conversation that on two occasions he had been in danger of being shot by a sentry, once at San Sebastian and another time at Schluesselburg. From this we learned that he also understood a little Spanish. Passing from the Schluesselburg story, he came to relate the following anecdote, which, however, I was unable to hear quite clearly, and so cannot vouch whether it occurred to the Minister himself or to some one else. One day the Count was walking in the Summer Garden at St. Petersburg, and met the Emperor, with whom, as a Minister in high favour, his relations were somewhat unreserved. The two, after strolling on together for awhile, saw a sentry posted in the middle of a grass plot. Bismarck took the liberty to ask what he was doing there. The Emperor did not know, and questioned the aide-de-camp, who was also unable to explain. The aide-de-camp was then sent to ask the sentry. His answer was, “It has been ordered,” a reply which was repeated by every one of whom the aide-de-camp inquired. The archives were searched in vain—a sentry had always been posted there. At last an old footman remembered that his father had told him that the Empress Catherine had once seen an early snowdrop on that spot, and had given instructions that it should not be plucked. They could find no better way of preserving it than by placing a sentry to guard it, who was afterwards kept on as a matter of habit. The anti-German feeling in Holland and its causes was then referred to. It was thought to be partly due to the circumstance that Van Zuylen, when he was Dutch Minister at Berlin, had made himself unpleasant, and consequently did not receive as much consideration as he desired, so that he possibly left us in ill-humour.

On the 16th of August, at 9.30 A.M., we started for Pont à Mousson. On the excellent high road to that town we passed through several villages with fine buildings, containing the public offices and schools. The whole way was brightened by detachments of soldiers, horse and foot, and a great variety of vehicles. Here and there we also saw small encampments. A little after 3 o’clock we reached our destination, a town of about eight thousand inhabitants. Passing the market-place, where a regiment of Saxon infantry were bivouacked, some of them lying on the ground on bundles of straw, we turned into the Rue St. Laurent. Here the Chancellor, with three of the Councillors, took up their residence at the corner of Rue Raugraf in a little château overgrown with red creepers. The rest of the party lived a few doors off. I slept with Saint Blanquart in a room which was a veritable museum of natural history and ethnology, being filled with the most varied trophies from all parts of the world.

After a hasty toilette we returned to the office. On our way we observed a number of notices posted on the walls, one announcing our victory of the fourteenth, another respecting the abolition of the conscription, and a third by the Mayor, apparently in connection with some attacks by civilians on our troops, warning the inhabitants to maintain a prudent attitude. There was also an order issued by our people strictly enjoining the population to keep lights in their windows at night, and to leave the doors of houses and shops open, and to deliver up all arms at the Town Hall.

During the greater part of the afternoon we again heard the distant roar of cannon, and ascertained at dinner that there had been renewed fighting near Metz. Some one remarked that perhaps it would not be possible to prevent the French retiring to Verdun. The Minister replied, smiling, “That hardened reprobate Molk (Moltke) says it would be no misfortune, as they would then be delivered all the more surely into our hands”—which must mean that we could surround and annihilate them while they were retreating. Of the other remarks made by the Chancellor on this occasion I may mention his reference to the “small black Saxons, who looked so intelligent” and who pleased him so much on his paying them a visit the day before. These were either the dark green Chasseurs or the 108th Regiment which wore the same coloured uniform. “They seem to be sharp, ready fellows,” he added, “and the fact ought to be mentioned in the newspapers.”

On the following night we were awakened several times by the steady tramp of infantry and the rumbling of heavy wheels as they rolled over the rough pavement. We heard next morning that they were Hessians. The Minister started shortly after 4 A.M., intending to proceed towards Metz, where an important battle was expected either that day or the next. As it appeared probable that I should have little to do I availed myself of the opportunity to take a walk in the environs with Willisch. Going up stream we came upon a pontoon bridge erected by the Saxons, who had collected there a large number of conveyances, amongst others some carts from villages near Dresden. We swam across the clear deep river and back again.

On returning to the bureau in the Rue Raugraf we found that the Chancellor had not yet arrived. We had news, however, of the battle which had been fought the day before to the west of Metz. There were heavy losses on our side, and it was only with great difficulty that Bazaine was prevented from breaking through our lines. It was understood that the village of Mars la Tour was the point at which the conflict had raged most violently. The leaden rain of the chassepots was literally like a hailstorm. One of the cuirassier regiments, we were told, with the exaggeration which is not unusual in such cases, was almost utterly destroyed and the dragoon guards had also suffered severely. Not a single division escaped without heavy losses. To-day, however, we had superior numbers as the French had had yesterday, and if the latter attempted another sortie we might expect to be victorious.

It did not, however, appear certain, and we were accordingly somewhat uneasy. We could not sit still or think steadily, and, as in fever, we were oppressed by the same ideas, which returned again and again. We walked to the market and then to the bridge, where we saw the wounded, who were now gradually coming in, those with light injuries on foot and the others in ambulance cars. On the road towards Metz we met a batch of over 120 prisoners. They were for the most part small, poor-looking specimens; but there were also amongst them some tall, broad-shouldered fellows from the guards, who could be recognised by the white facings of their tunics. Then once more to the market-place and around the garden behind the house, where a dog lies buried under a tombstone with the following touching inscription:—

At length, about 6 o’clock, the Chancellor returned. No great battle had taken place that day, but it was highly probable that an engagement would occur on the morrow. The Chief told us at dinner that he had visited his eldest son, Count Herbert, in the field ambulance at Mariaville, where he was lying in consequence of a bullet wound in the thigh, which he had received during the general cavalry charge at Mars la Tour. After riding about for some time the Minister at length found his son in a farmhouse with a considerable number of other wounded soldiers. They were in charge of a surgeon, who was unable to obtain a supply of water, and who scrupled to take the turkeys and chickens that were running about the yard for the use of his patients. “He said he could not,” added the Minister, “and all our arguments were in vain. I then threatened to shoot the poultry with my revolver and afterwards gave him twenty francs to pay for fifteen. At last I remembered that I was a Prussian General, and ordered him to do as I told him, whereupon he obeyed me. I had, however, to look for the water myself and to have it fetched in barrels.”

In the meantime the American General Sheridan had arrived in the town and asked for an interview with the Chancellor. He had come from Chicago, and lodged at the Croix Blanc in the market-place. At the desire of the Minister I called upon General Sheridan and informed him that Count Bismarck would be pleased to see him in the course of the evening. The general was a small, corpulent gentleman of about forty-five, with dark moustache and chin tuft, and spoke the purest Yankee dialect. He was accompanied by his aide-de-camp, Forsythe, and a journalist named MacLean, who served as an interpreter, acting at the same time as war correspondent for the New York World.

During the night further strong contingents of troops marched through the town—Saxons, as we ascertained next day. In the morning we heard that the King and Chancellor had gone off at 3 A.M. A battle was being fought on about the same ground as that of the 16th, and it appears as if this engagement were to prove decisive. It will be easily understood that we were still more excited than we had been during the last few days. Uneasy, and impatient for particulars of what was passing, we started in the direction of Metz, going some four kilometres from Pont à Mousson, suffering both mentally and physically, from our anxiety and suspense as well as from the sweltering heat of a windless day and a blazing sky. We met numbers of the less severely wounded coming towards the town, singly, in couples, and in large companies. Some still carried their rifles, while others leant upon sticks. One had the red cape of a French cavalryman thrown over his shoulders. They had fought two days before at Mars la Tour and Gorze. They had only heard rumours of this day’s battle, and these, good and bad as they happened to be, were soon circulated in an exaggerated form throughout the town. The good news at length seemed to get the upper hand, although late in the evening we had still heard nothing definite. We dined without our Chief, for whom we waited in vain until midnight. Later on we heard that he, accompanied by Sheridan and Count Bismarck-Bohlen, was with the King at Rezonville.

On Friday, August the 19th, when we ascertained for certain that the Germans had been victorious, Abeken, Keudell, Hatzfeldt and I drove to the battle-field. At Gorze the Councillors got out, intending to proceed further on horseback. The narrow road was blocked with all sorts of conveyances, so that it was impossible for our carriage to pass. From the same direction as ourselves came carts with hay, straw, wood, and baggage, while ammunition waggons and vehicles conveying the wounded were coming the other way. The latter were being moved into the houses, nearly all of which were turned into hospitals and were distinguished by the Geneva cross. At almost every window we could see men with their heads or arms in bandages.

After about an hour’s delay we were able to move slowly forward. The road to the right not far from Gorze would have taken us in little over half an hour to Rezonville, where I was to meet the Minister and our horsemen. My map, however, failed to give me any guidance, and I was afraid of going too near Metz. I therefore followed the high road further, and passing a farm where the house, barn and stables were full of wounded, we came to the village of Mars la Tour.

Immediately behind Gorze we had already met traces of the battle,—pits dug in the earth by shells, branches torn off by shot and some dead horses. As we went on we came upon the latter more frequently, occasionally two or three together, and at one place a group of eight carcases. Most of them were fearfully swollen, with their legs in the air, while their heads lay slack on the ground. There was an encampment of Saxon troops in Mars la Tour. The village seemed to have suffered little from the engagement of the 16th. Only one house was burned down. I asked a lieutenant of Uhlans where Rezonville was. He did not know. Where was the King? “At a place about two hours from here,” he said, “in that direction,”—pointing towards the east. A peasant woman having directed us the same way, we took that road, which brought us after a time to the village of Vionville. Shortly before reaching this place I saw for the first time one of the soldiers who had fallen in the late battle, a Prussian musketeer. His features were as dark as those of a Turco, and were fearfully bloated. All the houses in the village were full of men who were severely wounded. German and French assistant-surgeons and hospital attendants, all wearing the Geneva cross, were busy moving from place to place.

I decided to wait there for the Minister and the Councillors, as I believed they must certainly pass that way soon. As I went towards the battle-field through a side street I saw a human leg lying in a ditch, half covered with a bundle of blood-stained rags. Some four hundred paces from the village were two parallel pits about three hundred feet in length, and neither wide nor deep, at which the grave diggers were still working. Near by had been collected a great mass of German and French dead. Some of the bodies were half naked, but most of them were still in uniform. All were of a dark grey colour and were fearfully swollen from the heat. There might have been one hundred and fifty corpses in all, and others were being constantly unloaded from the carts. Doubtless, many had already been buried. Further on in the direction of Metz the ground rose slightly, and there in particular great numbers appeared to have fallen. The ground was everywhere covered with French caps, Prussian helmets, knapsacks, arms, uniforms, underclothing, shoes, and paper. Here and there in the furrows of a potato field lay single bodies, one with a whole leg torn away, another with half the head blown off, while some had the right hand stretched out stiffly pointing towards the sky. There were also a few single graves, marked with a chassepot stuck in the ground or with a cross made from the wood of a cigar box roughly tied together. The effluvium was very noticeable, and at times, when the wind came from the direction of a heap of dead horses, it became unendurable.

It was time to return to the carriage, and besides I had seen quite enough of the battle-field. I took another way back, but I was again obliged to pass further masses of the dead, this time all French. Near some of the bodies lay packets of letters that had been carried in their knapsacks. I brought some of these with me as a memento, amongst them being two letters in German from one Anastasia Stampf, of Scherrweiler, near Schlettstadt. These I found lying by a French soldier who had been stationed at Caen shortly before the outbreak of the war. One of them, in indifferent spelling, was dated “The 25th of the Hay Month, 1870,” and concluded with the words, “We constantly commend thee to the protection of the Blessed Virgin!”

It was 4 o’clock when I got back, and as the Minister had not arrived, we returned to Gorze. Here we met Keudell, who, with Abeken and Count Hatzfeldt had called upon the Chief at Rezonville. During the battle of the 18th instant, which was decided at Gravelotte, the Minister had, together with the King, ventured a considerable distance towards the front, so that for a time both of them were in some danger. Bismarck had afterwards with his own hands taken water to the wounded. At 9 P.M. I saw him again safe and sound at Pont à Mousson, where we all took supper with him. Naturally, the conversation turned for the most part on the last two battles and the resulting gains and losses. The French had fallen in huge masses. The Minister had seen our artillery mow down whole lines of their guards near Gravelotte. We had also suffered severely. Only the losses of the 16th of August were known up to the present. “A great many noble Prussian families will go into mourning,” the Chief said. “Wesdehlen and Reuss lie in their graves, Wedell and Finkenstein are dead, Rahden (Lucca’s husband) is shot through both cheeks, and a crowd of officers commanding regiments or battalions have either fallen or are severely wounded. The whole field near Mars la Tour was yesterday still white and blue with the bodies of cuirassiers and dragoons.” In explanation of this statement, we were informed that near the village referred to there had been a great cavalry charge upon the French, who were pressing forward in the direction of Verdun. This charge was repelled by the enemy’s infantry in Balaclava fashion, but had so far served its purpose that the French were kept in check until reinforcements arrived. The Chancellor’s two sons had also gallantly ridden into that leaden hailstorm, the elder receiving no less than three bullets, one passing through the breast of his tunic, another hitting his watch, and the third lodging in his thigh. The younger appears to have escaped unhurt. The Chief related, evidently with some pride, how Count Bill rescued two comrades who had lost their horses, dragging them out of the mêlée in his powerful grasp and riding off with them. Still more German blood was shed on the 18th, but we secured the victory, and obtained the object of our sacrifices. That evening Bazaine’s army had finally retired to Metz, and even French officers whom we had captured admitted that they now believed their cause was lost. The Saxons, who had made long marches on the two previous days, were able to take an important part in the battle near the village of Saint Privat. They now occupied the road to Thionville, so that Metz was entirely surrounded by our troops.

It appeared that the Chancellor did not quite approve of the course taken by the military authorities in both battles. Among other things he said that Steinmetz had abused the really astounding gallantry of our men—“he was a spendthrift of blood.” The Minister spoke with violent indignation of the barbarous manner in which the French conducted the war; they were said to have fired upon the Geneva cross and even upon a flag of truce.

Sheridan seemed to have speedily got on a friendly footing with the Minister, as I was instructed to invite him and his two companions to dinner on the following evening.

At 11 o’clock on the 20th of August the Chancellor received a visit from the Crown Prince, who was stationed with his troops about twenty-five English miles from Pont à Mousson on the road from Nancy to Châlons. In the afternoon some twelve hundred prisoners, including two carts conveying officers, passed through the Rue Notre Dame in charge of a detachment of Prussian cuirassiers. Sheridan, Forsythe and MacLean dined that evening with the Minister, who kept up a lively conversation in good English with the American general. The Chief and his American guests had champagne and porter. The latter was drunk out of pewter mugs, one of which the Minister filled for me. I mention this because no one else at table had porter, and the gift was particularly welcome, as since we left Saarbrücken we had had no beer. Sheridan, who was known as a successful soldier on the Federal side in the last year of the American Civil War, spoke a good deal. He told us of the hardships he and his companions had undergone during the ride from the Rocky Mountains to Chicago, of the fearful swarms of mosquitoes, of a great heap of bones in California or thereabouts in which fossils were found, and of buffalo and bear hunting, &c. The Chancellor also told some hunting stories. One day in Finland he found himself in dangerous proximity to a big bear. It was white with snow, and he had barely been able to see it. “At last I fired, however, and the bear fell some six paces from me. But it was not killed, and might get up again. I knew what I had to expect, and so without stirring I quietly reloaded, and as soon as it stirred I shot it dead.”

We were very busy on the forenoon of the 21st of August, preparing reports and leading articles to be forwarded to Germany. We heard that the bearer of a flag of truce who was fired upon by the French was Captain or Major Verdy, of Moltke’s general staff, and that the trumpeter who accompanied him was wounded. Trustworthy information was received from Florence to the effect that Victor Emmanuel and his Ministers had, in consequence of our victories, decided to observe neutrality, which up to that time was anything but certain. Now it was at last possible to estimate, at least approximately, the losses of the French at Courcelles, Mars la Tour, and Gravelotte. The Minister put them at about 50,000 men during the three days, of whom about 12,000 were killed. He added: “The ambition and mutual jealousy of some of our generals was to blame for the severity of our losses. That the guards charged too soon was entirely due to their jealousy of the Saxons who were coming up behind them.”

That afternoon I had some talk with one of the dragoon guards who had been in the charge on the French battery on the 16th. He maintained that besides Finkenstein and Reuss, the two Treskows were also dead and buried; and that after the battle one squadron had been formed out of the three squadrons of his regiment that had been in action, and one regiment out of the two dragoon regiments that had been engaged. He spoke very modestly about that gallant deed. “We had to charge,” he said, “in order to prevent our artillery being taken by the enemy.” While I was talking to him some Saxon infantry passed by with a batch of about 150 prisoners. I ascertained from the escort that after their long march the Saxons had fought in the battle near Roncourt and Saint Privat. Once they had charged with the bayonet and the butt ends of their rifles. They had lost a good many officers, including General Krausshaar.

As I entered the room that evening at tea time the Chief said: “How are you, doctor?”

“I thank your Excellency, quite well.”

“Have you seen something of what has been going on?”

“Yes, your Excellency, the battle-field near Vionville.”

“It is a pity you were not with us to share our adventures on the 18th.”

The Chancellor then went on to give us a full account of his experiences during the last hours of the battle and the following night. I shall give these and other particulars later on, as I heard them from the Minister. Here I will only mention that the King had ventured too far to the front, which Bismarck thought was not right. Referring to our men, the American General Sheridan said: “Your infantry is the best in the world; but it was wrong of your generals to advance their cavalry as they did.” I may further mention that Bohlen in the course of the conversation said to the Chancellor: “Did you hear how the Bavarian muttered when the result seemed doubtful—‘Things look bad! It’s a bad case!’—and was obviously delighted to think we were going to be beaten?” The Bavarian referred to was Prince Luitpold. The name of General Steinmetz then came up. The Chancellor said that he was brave, but self-willed and excessively vain. Small and slight of figure, when he came into the Diet he always stood near the President’s chair so as to be noticed. He used to attract attention by pretending to be very busy taking notes of what went on, as if he were following the debate with great care. “He evidently thought the newspapers would mention it, and praise his zeal. If I am not mistaken his calculation proved correct.”

On Monday, the 22nd of August, I wrote in my diary: “Called to the Chief at 10.30 A.M. He asked first after my health and whether I also had been attacked by dysentery. He had had a bad time of it the night before. The Count down with dysentery! God save him from it! It would be worse than the loss of a battle. Without him our whole cause would be reduced to uncertainty and vacillation.”

On the instructions of the Chief I sent the Kölnische Zeitung the translation of part of a confidential report according to which the Emperor Alexander was favourably disposed towards the French. I also wired to Berlin respecting the closing of some small telegraph offices the officials of which were required for the field service.

There is no longer any doubt that we shall retain Alsace and Metz, with its environs, in case of a final victory over France. The considerations that have led the Chancellor to this conclusion, and which have already been discussed in an academic way in the English press, are somewhat as follows:

A war indemnity, however great it may be, would not compensate us for the enormous sacrifices we have made. We must protect South Germany with its exposed position against French attacks, and thus put an end to the pressure exercised upon it by France during two centuries, especially as this pressure has during the whole time greatly contributed to German disorganisation and confusion. Baden, Würtemberg, and the other south-western districts must not in future be threatened by Strassburg and subject to attack from that point. This also applies to Bavaria. Within 150 years the French have made war upon South-west Germany more than a dozen times. Efforts were made in 1814 and 1815 in a forbearing spirit to secure guarantees against a renewal of such attacks. That forbearance, however, was without effect, and it would now also remain fruitless. The danger lies in the incurable arrogance and lust of power which is part of the French character, qualities that might be abused by every ruler—not by any means by the Bonapartes alone—for the purpose of attacking peaceful neighbours. Our protection against this evil does not lie in vain attempts periodically to soothe French susceptibilities, but rather in securing a well-defended frontier. France, by repeatedly annexing German territory and all the natural defences on our western frontier, has put herself in a position to force her way into South Germany with a comparatively small force before assistance can be brought from the north. Such invasions have repeatedly occurred under Louis XIV. and his successor, as well as under the Republic and the First Empire, and the sense of insecurity obliges the German States to reckon constantly with France. That the annexation of a piece of territory will produce bitter feelings amongst the French is a matter of no consequence. Such feelings would exist in any case, even without any cession of territory. Austria did not lose an acre of soil in 1866, and yet what thanks have we had? Our victory at Sadowa had already filled the French with hatred and vexation. How much stronger must that sentiment be after our victories at Wörth and Metz! Revenge for those defeats will continue to be the war cry in Paris even without any annexation, and will spread to influential circles in the provinces, just as the idea of revenge for Waterloo was kept alive there for decades. An enemy who cannot be turned into a friend by considerate treatment must be rendered thoroughly and permanently harmless. Not the demolition, but the surrender, of the eastern fortresses of France can alone serve our purpose. Whoever desires disarmament must wish to see France’s neighbours adopt this course, as France is the sole disturber of European peace, and will remain so as long as she can.

It is astonishing how freely this idea of the Chief’s now flows from one’s pen. What looked like a miracle ten days ago seems now quite natural and a matter of course. Perhaps the suggestion as to a German Empire which is understood to have been mentioned during the visit of the Crown Prince is also an idea of the same kind. Blessings follow closely upon each other’s heels. We may now regard everything as probable.

At dinner the Minister complained of the excessive frugality with which the principal officials of the Royal Household catered for the King’s table. “There is seldom any champagne, and in the matter of food also short commons is the rule. When I glance at the number of cutlets I only take one, as I am afraid that otherwise somebody else would have to go without.” These remarks, like similar hints given recently, were intended for one or other of the gentlemen from the Court, with a view to their being repeated in the proper quarter. The conversation then turned on the improper, not to say disgraceful, manner in which the French soldiers carried on the war. The Minister said they had killed one of our officers near Mars la Tour (Finkenstein, I believe it was) while he was sitting wounded by the roadside. One of the company maintained that he had been shot, but another said that an examination of the body by a doctor showed that the officer had been stabbed. The Chief remarked that if he had to choose, he should prefer being stabbed to being shot.

Count Herbert has been brought in from the Field Hospital, and a bed has been prepared for him on the floor in his father’s room. I was talking to him to-day. His wound is painful, but up to the present it does not appear to be dangerous. He is to return to Germany one of these days, where he will remain until he has recovered.