Bismarck

Reference was made to the rumour that the Bavarian battalions did not appear particularly anxious to advance at the battle of Wörth (or was it Weissenburg?), and that Major von Freiberg called upon them to show themselves equal to “those gallant Prussians.” Seckendorf, if I am not mistaken, confirmed this report. On the other hand, he denied that the Crown Prince had ordered treacherous French peasants to be shot. He had, on the contrary, acted with great leniency and forbearance, especially towards unmannerly French officers.

Count Bohlen, who is always ready with amusing anecdotes and flashes of fun, said: “On the 18th von Breintz’s battery was subjected to such a heavy fire that in a short time nearly all his horses and most of his men lay dead or wounded. As he was mustering the survivors, the captain remarked, ‘A very fine fight, is it not?’”

The Chief said: “Last night I asked the sentry at the door how he was off for food, and I found that the man had had nothing to eat for twenty-four hours. I went to the kitchen and brought him a good chunk of bread, at which he seemed highly pleased.”

Hatzfeldt’s appointment as Prefect led to the mention of other Prefects and Commissaries in spe. Doubt having been expressed as to the capacity of some of them, the Minister remarked: “Our officials in France may commit a few blunders, but they will be soon forgotten if the administration in general is conducted energetically.”

The conversation having turned on the telegraph lines which were being so rapidly erected in our rear, somebody told the following story. The workmen who found that their poles were stolen and their wires cut, asked the peasants to keep guard over them during the night. The latter, however, refused to do this, although they were offered payment for it. At length they were promised that the name of each watchman should be painted upon every pole. This speculation on French vanity succeeded. After that the fellows in the long nightcaps kept faithful watch, and no further damage was done.

Friday, August 26th.—We are to move forward to Saint Ménehould, where our troops have captured 800 mobile guards. Early in the day I wrote an article about the franctireurs, dealing in detail with the false view which they take of what is permissible in war.

We moved forward on the 26th, not to Saint Ménehould, however, which was still unsafe, being infested by franctireurs and mobile guards, but to Clermont en Argonne, where we arrived at 7 o’clock in the evening. On our way we passed through several rather large villages with handsome old churches. For the last couple of hours military policemen were stationed along the road at intervals of about 200 paces. The houses, which were built of grey sandstone and not whitewashed, stood close together. The whole population shuffled about in clumsy wooden shoes, and the features of the men and women, of whom we saw great numbers standing before the doors, were, so far as I could observe in a passing glance, almost invariably ugly. Probably the people thought it necessary to remove the prettier girls to a place of safety out of the way of the German birds of prey.

We met some Bavarian troops with a line of transport waggons. The troops loudly cheered the King, and afterwards the Chancellor. Later on we overtook three regiments of infantry, some hussars, uhlans, and a Saxon commissariat detachment. Near a village, which was called Triaucourt if I am not mistaken, we met a cartful of franctireurs who had been captured by our people. Most of these young fellows hung their heads, and one of them was weeping. The Chief stopped and spoke to them. What he said did not appear to please them particularly. An officer of higher rank who came over to the carriage of the Councillors and was treated to a friendly glass of cognac told us that these fellows or comrades of theirs had on the previous day treacherously shot a captain or major of the uhlans, named Von Fries or Friesen. On being taken prisoners they had not behaved themselves like soldiers, but had run away from their escort. The cavalry and rifles, however, arranged a kind of battue in the vineyards, so that some of them were again seized, while others were shot or cut down. It was evident that the war was becoming barbarous and inhuman, owing to these guerilla bands. Our soldiers were prejudiced against them from the beginning, even apart from the possibility of their lying treacherously in ambush, as they looked upon them as busybodies who were interfering in what was not their business, and as bunglers who did not understand their work.

We took up our residence at Clermont in the town schoolhouse in the main street, the King’s quarters being over the way. On our arrival, the Grande Rue was full of carts and carriages, and one saw here and there a few Saxon rifles. While Abeken and I were visiting the church we could hear in the stillness the steady tramp of the troops and their hurrahs as they marched past the King’s quarters.

On our return we were told that the Minister had left word that we were to dine with him in the Hôtel des Voyageurs. We found a place at the Chief’s table in a back room of the hotel, which was full of noise and tobacco smoke. Amongst the guests was an officer with a long black beard, who wore the Geneva cross on his arm. This was Prince Pless. He said that the captured French officers at Pont à Mousson had behaved in an insolent manner, and had spent the whole night drinking and playing cards. A general had insisted that he was entitled to have a separate carriage, and been very obstreperous when his demand was naturally rejected. We then went on to speak of the franctireurs and their odious modes of warfare. The Minister confirmed what I had already heard from Abeken, namely, that he had spoken very sharply to the prisoners we had met in the afternoon. “I told them, ‘Vous serez tous pendus,—vous n’êtes pas des soldats, vous êtes des assassins!’ On my saying this one of them began to howl.” We have already seen that the Chancellor is anything but unfeeling, and further proof of this will be given later on.

In our quarters the Chief’s chamber was on the first floor, Abeken, I believe, having a back room on the same landing. The remainder of us were lodged on the second floor in a dormitory or kind of hall which at first only contained two chairs and two bedsteads with mattresses but without quilts. The night was bitterly cold, and I only with my waterproof to cover me. Still it was quite endurable, especially when one fell asleep thinking of the poor soldiers who have to lie outside in the muddy fields.

In the morning we were busy rearranging our apartment to suit our needs. Without depriving it of its original character we turned it into an office and dining-room. Theiss’s cleverness conjured up a magnificent table out of a sawing bench and a baker’s trough, a barrel, a small box and a door which we took off its hinges. This work of art served as breakfast and dining table for the Chancellor of the Confederation and ourselves, and in the intervals between those meals was used as a desk by the Councillors and Secretaries, who neatly committed to paper and reproduced in the form of despatches, instructions, telegrams, and newspaper articles the pregnant ideas which the Count thought out in our midst. The scarcity of chairs was to a certain extent overcome by requisitioning a bench from the kitchen, while some of the party contented themselves with boxes as seats. Wine bottles that had been emptied by the Minister served as candlesticks—experience proved that champagne bottles were the fittest for this purpose and as a matter of fact good wax candles burned as brightly in these as in a silver chandelier. It was more difficult to secure the necessary supply of water for washing, and sometimes it was hard even to get enough for drinking purposes, the soldiers having during the last two days almost drained the wells for themselves and their horses. Only one of our party lamented his lot and grumbled at these and other slight discomforts. The rest of us, including the far-travelled Abeken, accepted them all with good humour, as welcome and characteristic features of our expedition.

The office of the Minister of War, or rather of the general staff, was on the ground floor, where Fouriere and a number of soldiers sat at the desks and rostrums in the two schoolrooms. The walls were covered with maps, &c., and with mottoes, one of which was particularly applicable to the present bad times: “Faites-vous une étude de la patience, et sachez céder par raison.”

The Chief came in while we were taking our coffee. He was in a bad temper, and asked why the proclamation threatening to punish with death a number of offences by the population against the laws of war had not been posted up. On his instructions I inquired of Stieber, who told me that Abeken had handed over the proclamation to the general staff, and that he (Stieber), as director of the military police, could only put up such notices when they came from his Majesty.

On going to the Chancellor’s room to inform him of the result of my inquiries, I found that he was little better off than myself in the way of sleeping accommodation. He had passed the night on a mattress on the floor with his revolver by his side, and he was working at a little table which was hardly large enough to rest his two elbows on. The apartment was almost bare of furniture and there was not a sofa or armchair, &c. He, who for years past had so largely influenced the history of the world, and in whose mind all the great movements of our time were concentrated and being shaped anew, had hardly a place on which to lay his head; while stupid Court parasites rested from their busy idleness in luxurious beds, and even Monsieur Stieber managed to provide for himself a more comfortable resting-place than our Master.

On this occasion I saw a letter that had fallen into our hands. It came from Paris, and was addressed to a French officer of high rank. From this communication it appeared that little hope was entertained of further successful resistance, and just as little of the maintenance of the dynasty. The writer did not know what to expect or desire for the immediate future. The choice seemed to lie between a Republic without republicans, and a Monarchy without monarchists. The republicans were a feeble set and the monarchists were too selfish. There was great enthusiasm about the army, but nobody was in a hurry to join it and assist in repelling the enemy.

The Chief again said that attention should be called to the services of the Saxons at Gravelotte. “The small black fellows should in particular be praised. Their own newspapers have expressed themselves very modestly, and yet the Saxons were exceptionally gallant. Try to get some details of the excellent work they did on the 18th.”

They were very busy in the office in the meantime. Councillors and Secretaries were writing and deciphering at full pressure, sealing despatches at the lights stuck into the champagne-bottle-candlesticks, and all around portfolios and documents, waterproofs and shoe-brushes, torn papers and empty envelopes, were strewn about in picturesque confusion. Orderlies, couriers and attendants came and went. Every one was talking at the same time, and was too occupied to pay the least attention to his neighbours. Abeken was particularly active in rushing about between the improvised table and the messengers, and his voice was louder than ever. I believe that this morning his ready hand turned out a fresh document every half hour; at least, one heard him constantly pushing back his chair and calling a messenger. In addition to all this noise came the incessant tramp, tramp, tramp of the soldiers, the rolling of the drums and the rattle of the carts over the pavement. In this confusion it was no light task to collect one’s thoughts and to carry out properly the instructions received, but with plenty of good will it could be done.

After dinner, at which the Chancellor and some of the Councillors were not present, as they dined with the King, I took a walk with Willisch to the chapel of St. Anne on the top of the hill. There we found a number of our countrymen, soldiers belonging to the Freiberg Rifle Battalion, at supper under a tree. They have been engaged in the battle of the 18th. I tried to obtain some particulars of the fight, but could not get much more out of them than that they had given it with a will to the Frenchmen.

By the side of the chapel a pathway led between a row of trees to a delightful prospect, whence we could see at our feet the little town, and beyond it to the north and east an extensive plain, with stubble fields, villages, steeples, groups of trees and stretches of wood, and to the south and west a forest that spread out to the horizon, changing from dark green to the misty blue of the far distance. This plain is intersected by three roads, one of which goes direct to Varennes. On this road not far from the town a Bavarian regiment was stationed, whose camp fires added a picturesque note to the scene. In the distance to the right was a wooded hill with the village of Faucoix, while the small town of Montfaucon was visible further off. The second road, more towards the east, leads to Verdun. Still further to the right, not far from a camp of Saxon troops, was the road to Bar le Duc, on which we noticed a detachment of soldiers. We caught the glint of their bayonets in the evening sunshine and heard the sound of their drums softened by the distance.

Here we remained a good while gazing at this pleasing picture, which in the west was glowing with the light of the setting sun, and watching the shadows of the mountain spread slowly over the fields until all was dark. On our way back we again looked in at the church of St. Didier, in which some Hessians were now quartered. They lay on straw in the choir and before the altar, and lit their pipes at the lamps which burned before the sanctuary—without, however, intending any disrespect, as they were decent, harmless fellows.

On Sunday, August 28th, we were greeted with a dull grey sky and a soft steady rain that reminded one of the weather experienced by Goethe not far from here in September, 1792, during the days preceding and following the artillery engagement at Valmy. At the Chief’s request I took General Sheridan a copy of the Pall Mall Gazette, and afterwards tried to hunt up some Saxons who could give me particulars of the battle of the 18th. At length I found an officer of the Landwehr, a landed proprietor named Fuchs-Nordhof, from Moeckern, near Leipzig. He was not able to add much to what I knew. The Saxons had fought principally at Sainte Marie aux Chênes and Saint Privat, and protected the retreat of the guards, who had fallen into some disorder. The Freiberg Rifles took the position held by the French at the point of the bayonet without firing a shot. The Leipzig Regiment (the 107th) in particular had lost a great many men and nearly all its officers. That was all he could tell me, except that he confirmed the news as to Krausshaar’s death.

When the Minister got up we were again provided with plenty of work. Our cause was making excellent progress. I was in a position to telegraph that the Saxon cavalry had routed the 12th Chasseurs at Voussières and Beaumont. I was informed (and was at liberty to state) that we held to our determination to compel France to a cession of territory, and that we should conclude peace on no other conditions.

The arguments in support of this decision were given in the following article which was sanctioned by the Chief:—

“Since the victories of Mars la Tour and Gravelotte the German forces have been constantly pressing forward. The time would, therefore, appear to have come for considering the conditions on which Germany can conclude peace with France. In this matter we must be guided neither by a passion for glory or conquest, nor by that generosity which is frequently recommended to us by the foreign press. Our sole object must be to guarantee the security of South Germany from fresh attacks on the part of France such as have been renewed more than a dozen times from the reign of Louis XIV. to our own days, and which will be repeated as often as France feels strong enough. The enormous sacrifices, in blood and treasure which the German people have made in this war, together with all our present victories, would be in vain if the power of the French were not weakened for attack and the defensive strength of Germany were not increased. Our people have a right to demand that this shall be done. Were we to content ourselves with a change of dynasty and an indemnity the position of affairs would not be improved, and there would be nothing to prevent this war leading to a number of others, especially as the present defeat would spur on the French to revenge. France with her comparatively great wealth would soon forget the indemnity, and any new dynasty would, in order to fortify its own position, endeavour to secure a victory over us and thus compensate for the present misfortunes of the country. Generosity is a highly respectable virtue, but as a rule in politics it secures no gratitude. In 1866 we did not take a single inch of ground from the Austrians, but have we received any thanks in Vienna for this self-restraint? Do they not feel a bitter longing for revenge simply because they have been defeated? Besides the French already bore us a grudge for our victory at Sadowa, though it was not won over them but over another foreign Power. Whether we now generously forego a cession of territory or not, how will they feel towards us after the victories of Wörth and Metz, and how will they seek revenge for their own defeat?

“The consequences of the other course adopted in 1814 and 1815, when France was treated with great consideration, prove it to have been bad policy. If at that time the French had been weakened to the extent which the interests of general peace required, the present war would not have been necessary.

“The danger does not lie in Bonapartism, although the latter must rely chiefly upon Chauvinist sentiment. It consists in the incurable arrogance of that portion of the French people which gives the tone to the whole country. This trait in the French national character, which will guide the policy of every dynasty, whatever name it may bear, and even of a Republic, will constantly lead to encroachments upon peaceful neighbours. Our victories, to bear fruit, must lead to an actual improvement of our frontier defences against this restless neighbour. Whoever wishes to see the diminution of military burdens in Europe, or desires such a peace as would permit thereof, must look not to moral but to material guarantees as a solid and permanent barrier against the French lust of conquest; in other words, it should in future be made as difficult as possible for France to invade South Germany with a comparatively small force, and even in peace to compel the South Germans, through the apprehension of such attack, to be always reckoning with the French Government. Our present task is to secure South Germany by providing it with a defensible frontier. To fulfil that task is to liberate Germany, that is to complete the work of the War of Liberation in 1813 and 1814.

“The least, therefore, that we can demand and that the German people, and particularly our comrades across the Main, can accept is, the cession of the French gateways into Germany, namely Strassburg and Metz. It would be just as short-sighted to expect any permanent peace from the mere demolition of these fortresses as to trust in the possibility of winning over the French by considerate treatment. Besides, it must not be forgotten that this territory which we now demand was originally German and in great part still remains German, and that its inhabitants will perhaps in time learn to feel that they belong to one race with ourselves.

“We may regard a change of dynasty with indifference. An indemnity will only temporarily weaken France financially. What we require is increased security for our frontiers. This is only attainable, however, by changing the two fortresses that threaten us into bulwarks for our protection. Strassburg and Metz must cease to be points of support for French attacks and be transformed into German defences.

“Whoever sincerely desires a general European peace and disarmament, and wants to see the ploughshare replace the sword, must first wish to see the eastern neighbours of France secure peace for themselves, as France is the sole disturber of public tranquillity and will so remain as long as she has the power.”