He paused for a moment and then continued: “That comes chiefly of the Emperor’s infatuation for Russia. I am also Russian in my sympathies, but not blindly, like the Emperor, who, with the exception of his brother, Prince Charles, and of Princess Alexandrine—is quite alone in this respect at Court. He sees and hears nothing, and no argument or evidence makes any impression upon him. He went to Alexandrowo in spite of the fact that I repeatedly protested in the most positive way against his doing so. They are making immense preparations in Russia, have increased their forces by 400,000 men, as much as the peace footing of the German Army. They can now put twenty-four new divisions into the field, that is, twelve army corps. And a mass of cavalry is stationed near the western frontier which could pour in upon us in three days. The reports are reliable and the Emperor is acquainted with the facts, but will not credit them. At Alexandrowo they turned his head with sentimental talk and reminiscences of Queen Louise, so that he does not recognise the danger, and nothing can be done with him. And yet it is so evident. Against whom are those armaments directed? They say in St. Petersburg that Constantinople must be conquered through Berlin. Others say that the road lies through Vienna, but that Vienna must be reached through Berlin. We must therefore seek support, and the direction in which it is to be found is indicated. The sensible portion of the 42,000,000 Germans would prefer to have a good understanding with both Russia and Austria. But if one is obliged to choose between them, then everything points to Austria, national reasons and others. In that country there are some nine or ten millions of Germans, and the Hungarians are also decidedly upon our side; indeed, even the Czechs (with the exception of a dozen or so of irreconcilables who are of no account) are at least disinclined to become Russians. But let us suppose that Austria were a purely Slav country. Russia is strong enough alone, and we cannot be of much assistance to her. Austria is the weaker of the two, although at the same time a valuable ally, and we can be of great assistance to her. She can also strengthen us in our policy of peace. When we are united, with our two million soldiers back to back, they, with their Nihilism, will doubtless think twice before they disturb the peace. The idea of such an alliance has been very favourably received by the German Princes; and they are in thorough agreement with it in England also. France, too, is at present obviously in favour of the maintenance of peace, but for how long? The Crown Prince is quite of my opinion; it was a matter of course, he said, that we should unite with Austria. It is only the Emperor—he has recovered physically from the great loss of blood in the last attempt upon his life, but his mental powers have been weakened.”

I remarked that the old gentleman’s age, his eighty-two years, must doubtless also have some effect. Water on the brain was apt to set in at that age.

“That too,” he added, “and consequently he does not understand what is said to him, even when it is very simple, and will not adopt any measures that are proposed to him. He and his brother and Princess Alexandrine are the Russian Rütli. (An allusion to Schiller’s Wilhelm Tell.) You must not say anything about this in the press—at least, not as yet; nor of the intention to bring about an alliance for the maintenance of peace either, as that is still in course of development. But you may speak of the condition of affairs in the Foreign Office, how one’s ideas and decisions are affected by consideration for the political requirements of the Empire, by responsibility to the Reichstag, and by the views of the Sovereign; and that the friction thus arising wears some Ministers to death, and invariably injures their health. Refer to Brandenburg as an instance which the present situation recalls. Bülow has been destroyed in that way. It is our Most Gracious who has done for him. The doctors say that the pain in the hip indicates a dangerous spinal disease. He is to be brought in now from Potsdam to Berlin, but I shall go out with my wife to see him. If he goes to Italy, who knows if we shall meet again? I must not stay longer than a quarter of an hour with him, as the excitement would be too much for him. I am extremely sorry to lose him.”

I said: “I have heard him described as a particularly capable worker.”

“Yes,” he replied, “and adroit, sensible, and loyal; not like Thile, who was the Empress’s messenger, and whom she kept here for a long time after I had made up my mind to get rid of him, owing to his incapacity. I learned to know and esteem him at Frankfurt (he was now referring again to Bülow), whilst he still held the post of Danish Envoy to the Germanic Diet. And when he had become Minister for Mecklenburg he also showed great ability in the Federal Council, so that I was determined to have him.”

He then recurred to the alliance with Austria, repeating in other words what he had said to me, inter alia. With the exception of the Emperor and the two other personages, almost the only people in Germany who were still in favour of Russia were the East Prussian corn-dealers. In reply to an inquiry as to the attitude of the Emperor Francis Joseph, he said: “Very fair and reasonable. He came specially on my account to Vienna from his shooting-box, adopted all my ideas, and was prepared to do everything I proposed in the interest of peace.”

He observed, in conclusion, that he was leaving for Varzin in a few days. “Friedrichsruh is too near,” he explained, “and I shall not take any official with me.” He then rang the bell, and asked the servant if the carriage which was to take him to the Potsdam railway station was ready; and I took my leave, with good wishes for his health.

This interview resulted in an article, “Fresh Friction,” in No. 42 of the Grenzboten, which was also discussed and commented upon at length in the home and foreign press.

I did not see the Chief again that year. We continued, however, as best we could to promote his ideas in the Grenzboten, Bucher, as before, helping us faithfully and indefatigably with his counsel and assistance as long as he was in Berlin. In these articles the party Philistines were now and again treated to some pretty energetic castigation, which is believed to have affected them rather painfully. The Prince returned from his holiday late in the winter, and it was only on the 9th of March, 1880, that I received an invitation from the Imperial Chancellerie to pay him a visit. I went to his palace at the time appointed, 1 o’clock, and had to wait for a quarter of an hour in the large pillared antechamber. Whilst I was sitting there, Tiedemann and the “Cerberus” (Geheimer Hofrath Roland of the Foreign Office) passed through the room. The latter seemed not to have been aware of my renewed intercourse with the Chancellor, spoke a few words to me, perhaps to satisfy himself that I was really the same person whom he probably regarded as having fallen into permanent disfavour and oblivion on account of my book, and had an opportunity of hearing the Chancery attendant in a loud clear voice call me in to the Prince. If he then further ascertained that I remained for nearly a full hour with the Chief he will certainly have looked upon it as a miracle, and the next time I meet him in the street I shall have the happiness of being honoured by a friendly greeting from him. O these little bonzes!

So I wrote in my diary, which also contains the following particulars of this interview with the Chief.

The Chancellor wore a dark grey coat (plain clothes) with a military stock. During our interview he drank first a glass of beer, then some Vichy water, which the attendant had to bring him. On my making my bow, he reached me his hand across the table, and said: “I really have not much to say to you to-day, but I was anxious to see you again. My health is still indifferent. It is true I have nothing in particular to complain of, and sleep well enough—nine hours last night—and eat with appetite, but I tire immediately. I must not walk or stand for any length of time, as it brings on neuralgic pains. That comes from the overwork of last year, and from the violent excitement. You know that that does not at all agree with the Gastein waters—it may even prove dangerous.

“At that time I was extremely anxious on account of Russia, and feared an alliance between her and Austria, which the French would also have joined. Latterly the Russians had written us brutal letters, threatening us in case we did not support them in the Eastern question, and I thought they could never act in that way, unless they had in Austria a good friend, who might become an ally. They had also endeavoured to bring about an alliance in Paris, through Obrutscheff. He is the adjutant and confidant of Miljutin, the Minister of War. But the French did not want it, and informed us through our Ambassador and others—just as a virtuous woman tells her husband when somebody makes improper overtures to her. That worried me a great deal. I had always desired to come to an understanding with Austria. As far back as 1852 I had an idea of the kind. It was—while the German Confederation still existed—that Austria should not want to have the sole authority in Germany, nor always hamper and coerce Prussia; she should grant Prussia a position in the Bund, which would allow her to use her whole strength in repelling the threatened attacks and pretensions of neighbouring Powers. They would not hear of this in Vienna, however; thought it was unnecessary. They held that Prussia had most to fear from such pretensions, and required Austria’s good will and assistance more than Austria required her’s. We had, therefore, to submit to being treated as an inferior, and indeed treated abominably. You know the Schwarzenberg policy, which was continued up to the Congress of Princes. They refused to share, and insisted upon having everything for themselves. We were therefore obliged, for our own self-preservation, to give them a practical proof that they were mistaken in thinking we must always lean upon them, and therefore give way to them, being unable to do anything for ourselves. So we took the opportunity in 1866, pitched them out of doors, and came to an understanding with the others—on fair terms. I then again thought of a reconciliation with them, for instance in 1870; but it was impossible to do anything with Beust, and so the preparatory steps came to nothing. Andrassy seemed better disposed. It was necessary, however, to put my old idea into a new shape, in consequence of the altered situation. I wanted an open constitutional alliance against a coalition, indissoluble, i.e., only to be dissolved on our side by the Emperor, the Federal Council, and the Reichstag, and on theirs by the Emperor and Trans- and Cis-Leithania. Then came the Turkish War, the Berlin Congress, and the execution of what had been there agreed upon. In St. Petersburg they expected us to look after their interests unconditionally, and to support all their demands. We could not do that, however, as some of them were unfair and dangerous. They began with imperious and arrogant warnings, and finally proceeded to threats. I could only explain that by the supposition either that an understanding had already been arrived at between Vienna and St. Petersburg, or was being negotiated. Andrassy’s Russian journey and various other circumstances seemed to confirm these apprehensions, and so last summer I was in a state of great anxiety. France would doubtless have soon joined the other two. In these circumstances, it was questionable whether England would have stood by Germany, as that country can never be easily induced to take sides with a Power which does not seem to have the upper hand. It was, therefore, with a heavy heart that I went from Kissingen to Gastein, and when Andrassy came I was very curious to hear what he would say. I then ascertained, however, that nothing of the kind existed. No understanding had been come to with Russia. I then brought forward my idea, which he immediately accepted, that is to say, he was in favour of the alliance, but not of a constitutional one. He would not hear of that, nor of publicity; and, indeed, in the end, it was as well not, as their Reichstag would have picked holes in it from their ignorance, and wanted this or that to be altered. Their Parliament is even worse than our own.”

“Yes,” I said; “the Constitutional party there are still more pettifogging than our Parliamentarians.”

“You are quite right,” he added. “With that exception Andrassy quite agreed with me, and the Emperor in Vienna was perhaps even more strongly in favour of the alliance. But our Emperor was not. He raised really brutal objections, and wished to sacrifice the welfare of the Fatherland upon the high altar of his Russian friendship, although the Russians had been as perfidious and insolent as it was possible for them to be—also towards Austria, so that the unquestionably russophil Archduke Albrecht afterwards said to Andrassy: ‘I rejoice now in the alliance with Germany, as the Russians are the most untrustworthy intriguers.’ At that time I may have written I should say a thousand pages, working day and night, using all sorts of arguments, and begging and praying, but without the slightest result. And yet there was no time to lose. Andrassy wished to retire. He, like myself, was tired, and he could afford to rest and be lazy. He had already provided himself with a successor, but considered it an honour to conclude the treaty himself. Nor could I remain for ever in Vienna. Yet if it were not now concluded with Andrassy, I felt the treaty would come to nothing, as the others had no heart in it. Moreover, the Russians might after all be able to come to terms with them against us. But the Most Gracious did not understand this. Even in Berlin he continued to hang back. At length he appeared to yield. I begged for leave of absence, and it was granted in a particularly official tone. Hardly had I turned my back when he issued a variety of contradictory orders, and I was obliged to send Stolberg to him in order to bring him round again. Stolberg behaved very well, and was not at all servile. And so the thing was at length done, and I believe it will last. The Austrians cannot help themselves now, and taken altogether the Emperor Francis Joseph is honourable and trustworthy.”

“So he—I mean our Emperor—did finally sign it?” I remarked. “Until now I thought, in spite of what the press said, that he had not done so.”

“Yes, he has signed it,” he replied.

“And it is a formal treaty, no mere protocol, as was stated?” I further inquired.

He smiled as he answered in low German: “Dat kann ik Se nich seggen.” (I cannot tell you that.)

“Well, I observed that your Serene Highness referred to it several times as the ‘treaty.’”

“Yes,” he replied, “but that must not be written. You must not let that be known. It would be all the same to me. I even wanted a public treaty.”

He was silent for a few seconds, and then spoke about the weather. “A very fine day. Last night we had three degrees of cold, and now I should fancy there are fifteen degrees of heat. Can you see the thermometer there? How high is it?”

“Nineteen degrees.”

He held his spectacles before his eyes and said: “Eighteen, no, you are right, nineteen. I cannot go out, although I should like to; I am afraid of catching cold. And yet I ought to show myself in the Reichstag for once, and honour them with my presence. I have no mind to it. I do not love their students’ club ways. For them the Party is always the first consideration, and everything hinges upon that. It is the case with the Conservatives as well as the Liberals. Instead of working with the National Liberals, where it is obvious that the leaders of the Left Wing no longer exercise their former influence, instead of at least approaching them, the Conservatives prefer to go with the Ultramontane Centre. And yet there is no trusting the latter. I, too, desire peace, but they are not to be gained over by any concessions whatever, so long as a Protestant Imperial House rules here. Bennigsen manages his people very well. It is true that nothing can be done with Rickert and the little Jew, Lasker. All the same he acted sensibly with regard to Stosch. And Hänel, too, who is otherwise accustomed to look up to the Court (the Crown Prince). He ought to have been treated quite differently—I mean Stosch, a vain, incapable fellow. But they are a servile lot. It is true that the Free Conservative section is the party of the distinguished and the wealthy, and it was their duty and that of the other Conservatives to oppose anything that was really unwise or bad, otherwise they would have forfeited their position. But they are all servile, Court Conservatives in secret, and Court Liberals in public. They spare him because they believe he is in favour with the successor, which is really not the case, however.”

I observed that the same sort of thing happened in England, where they all kneel and crawl on their stomachs before the Queen, and even look up with devotion to the Prince of Wales.

He replied: “Perhaps, but it is harmless there. She has little to say in matters of State, and cannot modify the policy of the Ministry of the day. In that particular they do not hold with the Court, and do not, as here, spare incapables because they are in favour there. And he is not even liked by the future Master. He is only retained because he is a Freemason of high degree. I have had that experience also with others who were incompetent, but held high Masonic rank. He concluded that mischievous military agreement with Saxony. I knew nothing whatever about it until the Saxons appealed to its provisions, and it was then too late. He did us harm also in France in 1871, when we were negotiating respecting compensation for the troops that remained behind, making us lose at least sixty millions. I do not want to bring any charge against him, but one cannot help wondering what he got from the Saxons and from Thiers. And our fleet, which has cost us such a fearful amount of money, is quite worthless, because the right man has never been put at the head of it. I thought it ought to be at least equal to the Russian fleet, but it is not—the Russian is better. He is a servile creature, and deceived the Emperor at the review. The sailors had to show themselves smart well-drilled infantry men; and so the Emperor, who is himself a foot soldier, thought everything was all right. But they pass it over in the Reichstag because they do not wish to offend the Court, and want orders and titles. It is just the same with our press. Pindter, for example (the editor of the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung), begged to be invested with a higher official title. Well, he can have it. Those sort of people place their paper at the disposal of the Government whenever it is wanted. But I should prefer to be plain Herr Pindter, rather than Commissionsrath Pindter.”

The Chief then, after referring to Hohenlohe, “who also does not wish to injure himself with the upper circles,” came to talk of the appointment of the Secretary of State in the Foreign Office. There were great difficulties in the way of this appointment, he said, as the pecuniary position of those in view was such that they could not take the post.

I asked: “Was Hatzfeldt really thought of in this connection?” “Yes, but he cannot take it. He is in financial difficulties. He can manage to get on as Minister in Constantinople, but not here. He would have been capable enough. Hohenlohe cannot do so either. He has a great château at Schillingsfuerst which costs him a great deal and brings him in nothing. Radowitz, who is even more capable than Hatzfeldt, is no better off in money matters. Moreover he has a Russian wife and six children, which is also not quite the thing. Solms, in Madrid, is too servile,—he would do everything that the Most Gracious desired.”

I: “How about Werther, in Munich, who used to write those brilliant despatches with so little in them?”

He: “He, too, has not enough money.”

I: “He is understood to have a large estate in Thuringia, Beichlingen, near Eckartsberg.”

He: “First of all that is not the place; then it is an entailed estate, and his father has impressed upon him to live economically and extend the property.”

I: “In that case I do not know any other who would be suitable.”

He: “Keudell, in Rome might be nominated.”

I: “He has a rich wife, but has he the ability?”

He: “Your question shows that you have formed a more accurate opinion of him than others have done. He has a reputation for ability because he knows how to hold his tongue, and people fancy that his silence covers ideas and knowledge. I thought so too, but have convinced myself that he has neither. Moreover, he is too hasty in judgment, sanguine, and thoughtless. Finally, he would be unfair to his subordinates, which would also be the case with Radowitz, who, it is true, is not a German. Both are vain, and want admiration and obsequiousness. Whoever is not prepared for that sort of thing will find himself overlooked and treated with disfavour.”

I asked: “How is it now with the Empress, Serene Highness? Does she still cause you difficulties?”

He: “Exactly the same as ever. She is still intriguing with the Ultramontanes, and I know that the coarse and brutal notes which I have received are due to her.”

He paused for a moment and then said: “Now if you have anything further to say to me or to ask——”

I stood up, thanked him for giving me the pleasure of seeing him once more, and took my leave, meeting Philippsborn in the first antechamber on my way out.

I took the first part of this interview as the subject of an article which appeared in No. 12 of the Grenzboten under the heading “The History of the German-Austrian Alliance.” This caused as great a sensation in the German and foreign press as the previous articles on Gortschakoff’s policy and the Fresh Friction.

The same number of the Grenzboten contained another article by me, which dealt with the second principal topic of the conversation of the 9th of March. I had received, on the 10th of that month, further materials for it from Count Herbert, on behalf of his father. It was simply entitled “From the Reichstag.” The second half of this article was also commented upon at great length in the Berlin newspapers....

About 12 o’clock on the 20th of March I received the following note from Count Herbert:—

I was at No. 77 Wilhelmstrasse at 2.15, just as the Chief returned from seeing the Emperor. In the hall I met Bucher, who looked very poorly and complained of overwork. On my entering the Prince’s room I found him sitting at his writing-table, which this time was so placed that the Chief had his back towards the window opening on the garden. He had on a grey coat, white trousers, and varnished top-boots, and wore an order round his neck. He said, after shaking hands as usual, and while he drew from an envelope the articles on the Treaty with Austria, and on Stosch, which I had sent him on the previous day: “Did you send me these?” I replied in the affirmative.

He: “H’m, I suppose, then, they are already printed?”

I: “Yes, already copied into the other papers and telegraphed to London.”

He: “That’s a pity. On the whole, the article is very good—you have a powerful memory—but there are some things in it which I should have liked to see modified. It is somewhat too highly seasoned—too blunt.”

He then read aloud the passage in which it was stated that even towards the end the Emperor still manifested great reluctance, and said: “That is true, but it is too strongly expressed.” He then went on reading, and on coming to the part in which the trickery and mendacity of Russia were mentioned, he observed: “That is also true, but it ought to have been expressed with more diplomatic tact, now that they struck a different chord. Of course, what we now want is peace, after we have buckled on our armour, or our revolver. And it would also have been better if both articles had not appeared in the same number. Then a great deal is mentioned which was not intended for the public, but only for your own private information. They will now mark these passages and send them to him—she (the Empress) or Prince Charles, who always tries to injure me, and who has always been very Russophil, like his sister, Alexandrine of Mecklenburg. He also knows why!”—and he made a motion as if he were counting out money.

“Money, Serene Highness?” I asked.

“Well, or——Surely you know—the old rake!”

I observed: “Perhaps it would interest your Serene Highness to see how an English correspondent has telegraphed the whole article at full length to the Daily Telegraph in London, so that it appeared there simultaneously with the publication in the Grenzboten. In many instances he has toned down the original.”

“Yes, I should be glad to see that,” he said. I gave him the newspaper. He read the beginning, and then said: “Leave it with me, and I will return it later.”

I now said: “Might I ask what is the attitude of England towards the alliance?”

He replied: “They are entirely engrossed in the elections. A great deal will depend upon the result. The Italians hope that Gladstone will be victorious. You have doubtless read their assurance that they wish to retain friendly relations with all the Powers, but reserve the right to act in accordance with their own interests? They are like carrion crows on the battle-field that let others provide their food. They were prepared in 1870 to fall upon us with the others, if they were promised a piece of the Tyrol. At that time a Russian diplomat said: ‘What! they are asking for something again, although they have not yet lost a battle!’”

I said: “Of these it is only the Piedmontese who seem to be any good as soldiers. Always covetous and always weak. Look at Lissa, where their powerful fleet was shamefully beaten, and their admiral fled like a coward. If they would only seek to strengthen their position at home, where no Ministry lasts more than a few months, and where the people are crushed by taxation and debt!”

“Yes,” he replied, “that is the real irredenta Italia. They ought to take that in hand instead of thinking of conquests. But one day they will find themselves in the same case as Spain under Isabella, and the Papal States and the Kingdom of Naples will be once more restored. Russia and Italy are the only Powers opposed to peace. Russia who is not satisfied with her 400,000 square (German) miles of territory and wants further conquests. Well, I don’t know of anything else to tell you.”

I suggested: “I thought I might at the same time get instructions to write about the Pope.”

“Yes,” he said, “it might be pointed out that Leo’s conciliatory attitude should not be over-estimated. Not only the Germania, but also the Progressist journals exaggerate it, but only for the sake of opposition, in order that they may be able to say, ‘The Curia desires peace, but the Imperial Chancellor will not have it.’ The present Pope is, it is true, more reasonable, and, perhaps, more moderate than his predecessor, but the utterances in his letter are after all capable of many interpretations, and on the whole are more academic than practical. Of what good is it for him to say: ‘I believe I shall be able to consent to this or to that?’” He then quoted a Latin sentence, and continued: “And who will vouch for the accuracy of the interpretation which is now being placed upon it? Who will guarantee that his successor will think in the same way? The Church has been putting forward the same claims for a thousand years, and will continue to do so. One Pope may carry out the old policy in a more peaceful, or in a bolder and more imperious fashion than another, but at bottom the policy itself is always the same. The May laws remain, but if they show moderation in Rome we can administer them in a less rigorous way—a modus vivendi. There are many people, however, who desire to have peace at any price, and would even go to Canossa—to save themselves trouble. These include, for example, the Minister of the Interior and the Crown Prince. He wants above everything to have peace and a quiet life, and nothing to trouble him. He will not go into battle. It is just like the septennate with regard to the army. He wanted a permanent grant in order to avoid fresh struggles, as he thought his turn would come within the next few years, and he thinks so now, for the old gentleman can hardly live to be ninety.”

At this moment the Princess entered the room and showed him a paper that seemed to refer to to-day’s birthday celebration. She asked if they were to illuminate. He said: “No, but it would perhaps be better to ascertain first whether any of the other Ministers were inclined to disobey the order,” which was probably contained in the paper. “In that case I shall also disobey—i.e., disobey myself for it was I who issued the order. I suppose the flags have been hung up, however?” The Princess replied in the affirmative.

When she had left I remarked: “What your Serene Highness has just said about the Crown Prince bears out the description of him which you gave me in 1870 during the drive from Beaumont to Vendresse—a pleasant life without much thought or care, plenty of money, and praise from the newspapers.”

“Yes, that is his character,” he replied. “Like his grandfather Frederick William III., whom he resembles in other respects also. Of course you have read the Memoirs of Caroline Bauer?” “Yes,” I replied. “And those of old Hofrath Schneider.” “Ah, quite so; he also tells similar stories, but in his innocence does not know what injury they do him. The old King used to drive seven times a week from the Pfaueninsel or the palace at Potsdam to the theatre in Berlin, in order to see worthless commonplace pieces, and afterwards to go behind the scenes and chuck the actresses under the chin, and then drive back the long dusty road he came. That is also the Crown Prince’s style—he wants to amuse himself, not to govern. It may turn out badly some day when I am too weak to do anything more, and we may lose ground again in many ways. It is true he wishes to keep me, but I shall go. In future, a Great Elector or a Frederick the Great, will not be required. A Frederick William I. would suffice, or even a Frederick William II., for he would not have been so bad had he not been rendered effeminate by the women.”

I said: “But you were satisfied with the article on Stosch, Serene Highness?”

He: “Up to the present I have looked chiefly at the first one. Moreover, anything one likes may be said about him. That is a matter of indifference to me. He cannot come in my way. He speculates upon the Successor, and owing to his position among the Freemasons, he has managed to give some people the idea that he has a certain prestige with the Crown Prince. There are some others also who dined together recently and divided the duchies amongst themselves as at Wallenstein’s banquet. How does that passage run? Ah, I can’t remember.” I quoted it. “Sie theilen dort am Tische Fuerstenhuete aus. Des Eggenberg, Slawata, Lichtenstein, des Sternbergs Gueter werden ausgeboten. Wenn er hurtig macht, fällt auch für ihn was ab.”

The Chief smiled and said: “Friedenthal was also one of them, a vain, intriguing fellow, whom I was glad to see go. Then Gneist—of whom I had rather a good opinion formerly, but who lacks character, and is a trimmer—Delbrück and Falk, and also Rickert. Falk has spoken about my relations with him in a way that cannot be reconciled with the truth. I have always taken his part, and acted as mediator between him and our Most Gracious, causing myself thereby a great deal of worry. Hohenlohe is apparently to preside over this new Ministry, in order to secure it some prestige. He has been selected as their Chancellor.”

“And,” I said, “who has not already wished to be Chancellor? Even Münster, the Cloud-compeller!”

“Yes,” he replied, “and others too, because it is such an easy task. That reminds me how the Elector of Hesse sent his own doctor to Bernburg to make inquiries as to the mental condition of the last Duke. He reported that he had found him worse than he had expected, quite imbecile. ‘But, good Heavens! he cannot govern in that case!’ exclaimed the Elector. ‘Govern?’ replied the doctor, ‘Why, that will not prevent him.’”

The Chief then came to speak of his conduct of affairs and of the trouble and cares and dangers he had gone through, and of the opponents who had declaimed and worked against him during the past eighteen years. “I had frequently to apprehend danger and ill-will from several directions at the same time, and occasionally from all quarters of the compass.” He smiled and then continued: “That reminds me of Gerstäcker, of whom a comic paper once gave a picture in which he was simultaneously attacked by a boa constrictor, a lion, a crocodile and a bear, while he was exclaiming: ‘Why, what a fine article this will make for the Augsburger Zeitung!’ But seriously, I am not good enough for this company, who know everything better, and think that a successor would manage things so much more cleverly. But, contenti estote, rest satisfied with your daily ration.”

On his referring again to Friedenthal and his disposition to intrigue, I said: “Why, there we have three or four Jews in combination—Friedenthal, Falk, and Rickert. In future it will be just the same here as in England and in France—Beaconsfield and Gambetta, with the Hebrew tail of the 1870 Government. Andrassy is also understood to have Jewish blood in his veins.”

“No,” he replied, “they say it is gipsy blood, and he looks as if he had that. But Rickert? Is he also one of the chosen people?”

I said: “I do not know him personally, but I have heard so, and indeed he is believed to belong to the unbaptised variety.”

“I should really like to know that for certain,” he said. “Please make inquiries.”

I promised to do so. He rang the bell, and asked for the Parliamentary Almanac, and looking up Rickert’s name, found that he was described as belonging to the Evangelical Church. His birthplace and indeed all closer particulars were omitted, and this the Chief considered “suspicious.” He then observed: “Friedenthal has even come forward as a National Jew. He will not permit the Post to attack Lasker or the Jews. Treitschke wrote good articles for it, in fact the most brilliant they had ever had. But when he began to attack Lasker, Friedenthal, who is one of the principal shareholders, intervened with his veto.”

He then spoke once more about his future retirement, and said: “How difficult it is to replace even Bülow! The gentlemen sit in their comfortable embassies and will not come here to undertake the heavy work. Hatzfeldt would do. He is intelligent and serviceable, but has no proper income, and might be tempted to associate himself with the financiers. It would be necessary to give him a grant. In that way the thing could be managed. Hohenlohe also is clever, but he allows others to use him for their own purposes. There is my eldest son, who has been working under my guidance for seven years, and who promises well—but that would not do, as he is only thirty.”

With these words he rose and gave me his hand. As I was leaving he called after me: “Quite gently and diplomatically—I mean your writing.” I had been with him over fifty minutes. In the second antechamber I met the Privy Councillor of Embassy, Von Bülow, who had been waiting there and who exchanged a few friendly words with me.

From what the Prince had told me of his attitude towards the Curia, I wrote an article, which appeared in No. 13 of the Grenzboten, entitled “The Conciliatory Pope.”

Towards the first week in April the newspapers began to talk of a Chancellor crisis. After that had gone on for a few days I wrote to the Chief (on Friday, the 9th of April) suggesting that if I could be of use to him he should give me information in the matter. On the 11th I received a letter from Sachse in which I was requested to visit the Chancellor on Monday at 4 o’clock. I kept the appointment punctually, and had to wait a quarter of an hour, as the Prince had disappeared in the garden. At length I saw him walking in the grounds attached to the Foreign Office. He was in plain clothes, carried a big stick in his hand and was accompanied by his two dogs. Theiss went out to him and informed him that I had come. In a few minutes I was summoned to him in his study. “How are you, doctor?” he said. “Things have again been going badly with me during the last few days. I have been worrying over our officials—over the clownishness of Stephan—and others are just the same. The newspapers give a false account of the origin of the present crisis, and I would request you to rectify it. It has not turned solely or even chiefly on the attitude of the non-Prussian Governments in the question of taxing receipt stamps on Post Office Orders and advances, but to fully as great an extent on the improper behaviour of our officials. You know I have repeatedly complained in public of Prussian Particularism in regard to the arrangements and requirements of the Empire. During my frequent long absences one arbitrary proceeding has followed another, so that a kind of Republic of the Polish type has grown up, in which each departmental chief insists not only upon having views of his own, but also upon putting them into execution. Vortragende Räthe (Councillors who have the privilege of direct intercourse with their chief), whose views are not in agreement with those of the heads of their department, and even Ministers who differ from me in their opinions, endeavour to give practical effect to their ideas, and that too as if it were a matter of course. But it is nothing of the kind, and it is obvious that that cannot be permitted by the head of the Government of the Emperor and King.”

He paused and seemed to expect that I would write down what he had said. Before I had come in he had placed a fold of blotting paper, several sheets of foolscap, and two freshly-pointed pencils at the side of the writing-table where I usually sat. I began by making a note of a few of the principal points, but I now wrote down everything he said literally, he speaking more slowly and in tolerably regular sentences. The following, therefore, after a few introductory words referring to what had been previously communicated, was published in the form of an article entitled “The Cause of the Chancellor Crisis,” in the Grenzboten of the 15th of April. In this way the Grenzboten had the honour of having the German Imperial Chancellor as one of its contributors. He said or dictated:—

“So far as we know (I afterwards added: ‘and we believe ourselves to be well informed’) there is absolutely nothing in the Chancellor crisis that tends towards any change in the Constitution. Nothing is farther from the Prince’s mind. He considers the Federal Constitution fully sufficient if the rights which it accords to the individual States are exercised with moderation. Any irregularities or stoppages of the machinery have been due in part to the procedure of the Federal Council, and in part to the circumstance that many Governments have not attached sufficient value to the exercise of their right to vote. According to the practice hitherto followed, too much importance has been given to the committees and too little to the general meetings. The former have discussed matters at great length, while on the other hand, the plenary sittings have been almost exclusively devoted to questions which had been so far settled by the committees that nothing remained to be done beyond taking the simple decision, Yes or No. It was, therefore, not possible for those Governments that had not been included in the committees in question, or had found themselves in a minority there, to secure consideration for their views at the plenary meeting, and to bring about a timely understanding, without causing great delay either by asking for fresh instructions or by referring the matter back to the Committee. The balance of parties is not the same in the committees and in the plenary Council. If the committees’ majorities carry their resolutions into effect they deprive the unrepresented Governments of their due influence. If on the other hand, the negotiations and discussions of these matters were transferred from the committees to the plenary meeting the views of all parties would receive timely consideration.

“We must here repeat what we said at the commencement” (this sentence was mine), “namely, that during the frequent absences of the Chancellor there has arisen among a section of the Prussian officials a condition which borders on absolute indiscipline; and, if it be true that the Prince has stated that he hardly ever succeeds in securing due regard for his legitimate authority without raising the Cabinet question, it is quite certain that a remedy is absolutely indispensable unless the prestige of the Federal Council and of its chief is to suffer irreparable damage. The Federal Council cannot become a public meeting, at which each official of the Ministry may, without authority and at his own good will and pleasure, give expression to his personal opinions on every question, and endeavour to secure their adoption.

“If the Royal decree lays stress on the conflict of duties in which the Imperial Chancellor may be involved under the Constitution, that difficulty can scarcely be overcome by an alteration of the Constitution in a manner acceptable to all concerned, but rather by a statesmanlike and prudent exercise on the part of all concerned of the rights bestowed by the Constitution. This does not mean that the Chancellor would be justified in declining to co-operate in the execution of a decision taken by the Federal Council. But assuming that he is bound to carry out such a decision and is therefore the immediate official representative of a decision for the consequences or the principle of which he may find himself unable to accept responsibility, it could hardly be contended any longer that he occupied a responsible position, but on the contrary that the post could be filled equally well by any subordinate official who would have simply to carry out the instructions given to him.

“It can scarcely contribute to strengthen the constitutional organisation of the Empire, to force the Imperial Chancellor, and with him the three largest Federal States, into a position in which they must appeal to the lawful privileges of the minority. For the Chancellor, on his own initiative, to refuse to carry out a formal decision of the Federal Council would be a course barely compatible with the consideration which he owes in his official capacity to the majority of the Federal Governments. A sense of official propriety would probably lead the Chancellor in such circumstances to avoid having to execute a resolution for which he could not accept the responsibility, by tendering his resignation, thereby announcing his readiness to co-operate in the selection of a successor whose convictions should not stand in the way of the Federal resolution. Anyhow, the best solution would be not to drive things to extremities.”

At this point it seemed as if something pressing had suddenly occurred to him. He rang the bell, and asked the Chancery attendant to call Privy Councillor Tiedemann, whom he then requested to ascertain at the palace what had been done in connection with the pro memoria, which ought to be dealt with promptly and without delay. He was to go immediately and make inquiries. When Tiedemann had left, he said: “The pro memoria concerns the matter on which we are engaged. But where was I?” I read him the last sentence, and he then continued: “Oh yes! The prevention of such crises as the present will be facilitated if less importance is given to the discussions in Committee, and more to those in the plenary sittings, and if the custom which has recently arisen, for half and even more than half of the Federal Governments not to be individually represented at these plenary sittings, is abandoned. The practice of appointing proxies is based solely upon the rules of procedure, and not upon the terms of the Constitution. The matter would take a very different complexion if the decisive plenary sittings took place only during a relatively short period within the Parliamentary Session, instead of being spread over the greater part of the year, according to daily requirements, as has hitherto been the case.”

He then, without giving any indication that the interview was at an end, took up a document on which the word “Memorandum” was written, made a few corrections in it, had Sachse called and gave him instructions to “have that copied in the same hand.”

He then turned to me again, asked me to read over the last sentence he had dictated, and said: “That will be enough. Do you wish to know anything further?”

I: “What does your Serene Highness think of the result of the elections in England?”

He: “The matter is not one of importance for us. The Russians, however, expect a great deal from it. But the Liberals must in general follow the same lines as Beaconsfield. That is always the case here too. If the National Liberals were to come into office, they would find that affairs could not be carried on as they imagine.”

I: “It is just the same with Crown Princes. They almost always hold different views to the reigning sovereign, or act as if they did. They are for the most part Liberal, and yet when they themselves assume responsibility they must follow the same course as their predecessors. I say they act in that way, as doubtless the difference is often only apparent. It seems to me that modern Princes have no self-reliance, no real belief in themselves, and feel dependent upon public opinion, or the party doctrines which pass themselves off as public opinion. Our dynasties consider it necessary to win the sympathies of all parties, and therefore Crown Princes take credit to themselves for being of a different political or religious opinion to the reigning sovereign, Liberal when he is Conservative, or very advanced when he is only a moderate Liberal. When they ascend the throne and have to assume the responsibility of their actions, they throw their theories overboard, if they ever seriously believed in them, and enter into the hard world of reality where facts and not aspirations are the determining forces, and where one is met by impossibilities which it is necessary to reckon with or submit to.”

He listened to me attentively, and when I had finished, said: “You are quite right. That was a very just observation. But even if the English were to come to an understanding with the Russians, and were to be joined by Italy, which has always been coquetting with the English Liberals, that would not lead to any great danger, and might turn out badly for the Italians. The closer England draws to Russia the more she drifts away from France. A combination would then arise in the East which would threaten French interests in that quarter, and particularly in the Mediterranean, where they are different from those of Russia and England. The same remark applies to England’s relations with Italy. In certain circumstances the result might be an understanding between France and Austria and ourselves. As yet we cannot positively say what we should have to offer in return—certainly not Alsace-Lorraine, but perhaps something else. Italy, however, would fare badly in the matter, as in that case Austria and France could easily come to terms. Italy is like the woman in the fairy tale who had caught the golden fish—what was her name? Ilsebill—and could never catch enough. The fish may have to go back to their old places. Naples and the States of the Church may be restored.”

I said: “In speaking to Tiedemann your Serene Highness mentioned a memorandum on the causes of the present crisis, which had been submitted to the King. What is his attitude in the affair?”

He replied: “Oh, satisfactory. Only he has not yet read the pro memoria, as it is too long. He laid it on one side.... And Wilmowski interferes. He considers it his duty and his right to put a finger in the pie, and advise him—of course against me, for he is a Liberal. So I have had a warning conveyed to him.” He stood up and said again: “The clownishness of Stephan, who is quite insubordinate! That comes of his self-assurance. King Stephan versus King William! (smiling)—that will never do, and you might say as much on some opportunity.”

I promised to do so at an early date, and then left. I had been with him for about three-quarters of an hour. In the large antechamber I saw Bleichröder’s birthday present to the Chief—a pipe-rack in carved oak, and seven long cherrywood pipes with painted porcelain bowls representing game, together with two large vases containing azaleas in blossom.

I incorporated what the Chancellor had said to me respecting the English elections and a possible co-operation between England, Russia and Italy, in a Grenzboten article, entitled, “The New Ministry in England.” This was commented upon in leading articles in London, Paris and Italy.

On the 25th of April, Lowe of The Times called upon me, and wished to have the same favours as Lavino “on the same conditions.” I told him there was no other condition than that the copy should be telegraphed across. He said he had a special wire. I promised to consider the matter and let him know in a fortnight, after I had consulted the publisher, who would have to send him proofs of the articles in advance. Abel came to me on the 1st of May with a request that I should oblige the Standard in a similar way. He received the same answer. On the 7th of May I concluded an arrangement with Lavino,[20] who had in the meantime received authority from London by telegraph, and thus became an “Occasional Correspondent” for his paper.

In the meantime, I had, on the 28th of April, received the following letter from Bucher:—