CHAPTER III

THE CHANCELLOR ON BULGARIA AND SERVIA, AUSTRIA AND RUSSIA, THE BATTENBERGER AND THE TSAR—HIS VIEW OF THE TREATMENT OF THE RUSSIAN BALTIC PROVINCES—A COMPARISON BETWEEN ENGLISH PARTIES AND OUR OWN—GERMANY AND ENGLAND IN AFRICA—THE CHANCELLOR ON THE MILITARY QUESTION, AND THE THREATENED CONFLICT IN THE REICHSTAG—WHAT HE SAID THERE WAS ADDRESSED TO RUSSIA—THE TSAR’S CONFIDENCE IN THE CHANCELLOR—THE CROWN PRINCE AND HIS CONSORT—BISMARCK AND HIS WORK—WHAT IS GREATNESS?—THE CHIEF ON HIS OWN DEATH—INTERVIEW WITH THE CHIEF ON THE MARRIAGE OF THE BATTENBERGER, AND INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE “GRENZBOTEN” ARTICLE, “FOREIGN INFLUENCES IN THE EMPIRE”—BEWARE OF THE PRESS LAWS—NOT TOO VENOMOUS—A SURVEY OF BRITISH POLICY—THE CATALOGUE OF ENGLAND’S SINS—TWO EMPRESSES AGAINST THE CHANCELLOR—QUEEN VICTORIA AT CHARLOTTENBURG—DEATH OF THE ‘INCUBUS.’

At 11 A.M., on the morning of the 5th of January, 1886, I handed in at the Imperial Chancellor’s residence in the Wilhelmstrasse a letter offering, as usual, my services and requesting an interview. Having received a favourable reply, I was at the palace punctually at 3 P.M., and was at once shown in to the Prince. He shook hands saying: “How do you do, Büschlein?” I sat down at the writing-table opposite to him. On my remarking that he looked exceptionally well, he complained of the continuance of his faceache, which did not arise from a bad tooth, as I had supposed, and for which Schweninger could do nothing. His cure had only prevented him from getting stouter and relieved his biliousness. He then said: “There is nothing going on in politics just now.”

I: “One sees that from the newspapers. You take care that they shall have nothing of importance to write about. You have again preserved the peace for us.”

He: “In Bulgaria, where the Austrian policy was inconceivably bad. It was as if they had no agents whatever there, no one to observe and report. They were of opinion that the Rumelian business was instigated by the Russians and in their interest, and so they thought ‘If you let your Bulgarians loose we will march out our Servians.’ They obviously promised the latter more than they could perform, and when the war went against Milan made enemies of both sides. Khevenhüller acted too roughly. He threatened the Prince that if he did not call a halt within twenty-four hours the Austrians would march against him. And the Servians were also obliged to stop and their action crippled. Now the Bulgarians complain, ‘If you had not crossed our path we should be in Belgrade by this time,’ and the Servians, on the other hand, assert that if they had not been ordered to keep the peace they would have renewed the struggle with fresh forces, and wiped out their defeat. The policy which they are carrying on in Vienna is that of the father confessor and the banker. The Länderbank, which advanced the Servians the money for the war, is acting like the Caisse d’Escompte in Paris, and exercises similar influence. It is as if Cohn, the banker at Dresden, wanted to influence our policy. They ought to know in Vienna that the events in Rumelia are the result of English wire-pulling, and that it is England who supports the Prince. He has been on bad terms with the Emperor Alexander for years past. He is a man of intelligence, but false and untrustworthy, and that is known in St. Petersburg. At the present moment the Battenberger is the main hindrance in the way of a satisfactory settlement of the Bulgarian question. The Emperor does not trust him even after his recent praise of the Russian officers. Order must be re-established from the outside, through an occupation by foreign troops—but who is to supply them? It would not do for the Russians to undertake the job, and just as little for the Austrians.”

I: “Might I ask what is your opinion of the character of the Emperor Alexander?”

He: “He is better than his reputation in our newspapers, more sensible, a simpler nature, and above all more honourable. Quite different to his father, more manly, and neither imaginative nor sentimental. He is a respectable father of a family, has no liaisons and makes no debts. Having nothing to conceal, it is not necessary for him to trouble his head with vain imaginings and tricky deceptions. But he is subject to ecclesiastical influences.”

I: “Pobedonoszeff?”

He: “Yes, and others.” He then related: “He was in Copenhagen during the complications with the English respecting Afghanistan, and Giers telegraphed to him repeatedly begging him to return. He remained, however, saying, ‘Giers has his hands full (hat die Hosen voll) but he must see for himself how he is going to put the matter straight.’”

I: “He has been described to me as stupid, exceedingly stupid; but that was from a Baltic source.”

He: “In a general way that is saying too much, but of course allowance must be made for the inhabitants of the Baltic Provinces. Poor people! But we cannot help them. History furnishes many instances in which Divine Providence has permitted such nobler communities and peoples to be swallowed up by a larger but less noble nation. In this case it is unwise on the part of the Government, and it does more harm to Russia than to us, when they allow such a breeding establishment for good generals, like Todtleben, and for capable diplomatists as they possess in the nobility of the Baltic Provinces to be ruined. They have in view the unity of the Empire and not without reason, as is shown in the case of the Poles, but that they should carry it so far and go to work in such a crude way, and in particular that they should incite the populace against the upper classes! I have often wondered why more of them do not sell out and emigrate. But this oppression is more damaging to the Russians than to us, and, moreover, the Baltic Germans never formed part of the German Empire, although they have always been closely associated with the popular life of Germany.”

I asked: “Might I inquire on what footing your Serene Highness now stands with the Crown Prince? You have recently been dining with him.”

He: “Oh, quite satisfactory, and for several months past, as also with her. When the Emperor seemed to be drawing near his latter end, he approached me, as he saw that the time was at hand when he must plunge into the water and swim on his own account. Ever since we have been on good terms. He wishes to retain me, and when he commands as King I must remain, although I am ill and require rest—but we must come to an understanding first. The main point for him is to get some one to conduct the foreign policy. Domestic affairs would go on all right under Bötticher, who manages them quite well, except that he is rather too vehement, so that water must sometimes be poured into his wine.” He then spoke against the “collegial system”[12] and in favour of a homogeneous administration.

I mentioned the Emperor and the jubilee of his reign, observing that a good text for a sermon on that occasion would be found in Ecclesiasticus, where it is said “The work praiseth the master, and his hands do honour to a wise prince”; and in particular the further passage “the prosperity of a ruler resteth with God; he giveth him a worthy Chancellor;” and again, “A wise servant shall be ministered unto by his master, and a master that hath understanding murmureth not thereat.” (I had already directed attention to these passages[13] in the Grenzboten of the 31st of December of the previous year.) He smiled; after remarking that the Emperor had acted conscientiously in State affairs and knew how to subordinate his amour propre to the interests of the country, he said: “He always gave me to a great extent a free hand, although he had been accustomed previously to command, while his brother, on the other hand, could never have got on with any independent Minister.”

I then referred to the Irish crisis and the English parties, observing that there one saw plainly what Parliamentarism resulted in, and whither it led a State. Our Liberals would have had a similar experience in Posen and in Polish affairs generally, but, happily, they had not the same influence here as they have in England. He said: “Parliamentarism only works where there are merely two rival parties that come to power alternately, and where the members of the Legislature are well off and unselfish, and do not find it necessary to struggle for their personal advancement. I am no advocate of absolutism. Parliamentarism is good even here, as a veto upon the resolutions of unwise Governments and bad monarchs—for purposes of criticism. In England, up to the present, there have been two great parties, whose principles have latterly not differed very widely, and both desired the welfare of the country and nothing for themselves. They were the representatives of a few hundred families who were well enough off not to want more, and who could therefore study exclusively the welfare of the whole community—a remark which at bottom also applies to Kings, who should be under no necessity to think of their own interests. The Irish are now coming in as a third party, together with the Radicals, who are still more dangerous. It is worse here in Germany. We have eight or ten parties and the leaders are place hunters, who want to improve their own positions and become Ministers, and who also put themselves at the service of the capitalists—not without a consideration.”

He then spoke about the Kulturkampf, and mentioned that the Pope was now thoroughly well disposed. I said: “Of course you have done him a great pleasure in asking for his mediation in the difference with Spain, and given him an importance for which he has every reason to be grateful.” He smiled and said: “Well, he has invested me with his highest Order, and has at the same time written me a very flattering letter.” We then spoke of other Orders and I asked him how many he had now. In 1872 he had, I believed, already sixty-four.

He: “There can hardly have been so many. Since then, however, the Siamese and other Asiatics have added theirs.”

I: “Japan was also included with the two great razors, the case containing the swords with which you were raised to the rank of Daimio.”

He: “Even the Emperor of China has made me a present, a great elephant tusk with carved figures, flowers, houses and birds, all so deeply cut out that you almost see through the carving. It is believed that the carving took eight years. You ought to have a look at it some time. It stands in the corner on the black chimney piece in the second room upstairs, near the large salon.” He rang the bell and instructed the servant to show me upstairs when I was leaving.

“Why have we not been able to secure the Santa Lucia Bay?” I asked. “Ah!” he replied, “it is not so valuable as it seemed to be at first. People who were pursuing their own interests on the spot represented it to be of greater importance than it really was. And then the Boers were not disposed to take any proper action in the matter. The bay would have been valuable to us if the distance from the Transvaal were not so great. And the English attached so much importance to it that they declared it was impossible for them to give it up, and they ultimately conceded a great deal to us in New Guinea and Zanzibar. In colonial matters we must not take too much in hand at a time, and we already have enough for a beginning. We must now hold rather with the English, while, as you know, we were formerly more on the French side. But, as the last elections in France show, every one of any importance there had to make a show of hostility to us.”

I inquired as to the spirit monopoly, and he replied: “They will scarcely pass it, but we shall introduce it. They will look upon us as people who have evil intentions against the country, and in particular against themselves, their rights and powers, and who must, therefore, be kept in check and taught to entertain proper respect towards the representatives of the people, to which category, of course, we do not belong. But after all we are only fulfilling the duties of our office, part of which is to promote the interests of the State to the best of our ability.”

On my saying, “Well, Münster is now in Paris,” he observed: “A change has taken place in him. He is now less phlegmatic, more diligent, and sends fuller reports, which, moreover, have something in them.” (...)

“Bucher is also away,” I observed, “on a long leave of absence, for the present.”

He: “Yes, because he has begged me, I should say ten times, to allow him to retire on account of his health. I have at length given him leave for six months on full pay. He was an excellent book of reference for all occasions, as his good memory had enabled him to read and collect a great deal of information. In addition to that he is a good and worthy man”—a statement in which I heartily concurred.

By this time it was nearly 4 o’clock, and on his pausing for a moment I rose to go. Before leaving I begged him to let me know when he thought I could be of any active use in the press, and he promised to do this. The servant then showed me upstairs through the large salon (in which a Christmas tree was still standing, as well as a table covered with presents), and from this into a room opening on the garden. Here were large full length portraits in oils of the Emperor William, in ermine robes, and the Emperors of Austria and Russia, an oil painting of the proclamation of the German Empire at Versailles (at that time only the frame, the picture having been removed to be varnished), and on the black chimney piece the Chinese elephant tusk, almost two metres in length. In another room I saw an excellent new portrait of the Chancellor (painted by Angeli, according to the servant), and, leaning against a sofa, a half length portrait of Pope Leo XIII., by Lenbach. (...)

May 29th.—I called on Bucher ... who told me he had received the Emperor’s order placing him on the retired list, together with the instructions of the Imperial Chancellor, by which it was accompanied. In conclusion the Chancellor thanked him for his long service, and added “hearty” good wishes for his future....

We remained good friends, and Bucher frequently joined Hehn and myself at our Wednesday evening meetings at Trarbach’s. I visited him repeatedly in the autumn and winter of 1886 and in January, 1887, on his return from the visit to Stirum. On the 13th of January I took him the payment for an article which he had written for the Grenzboten and which was published in No. 41 of that paper, on “Two Diminishers of the Realm.” (These were Gladstone and Windthorst, the comparison having been drawn at the suggestion of Bismarck.) On this occasion Bucher told me that he prepared the draft of the Constitution of the North German Confederation. At that time (after the return from Nikolsburg in the autumn of 1866) Bismarck lay seriously ill at Putbus. Savigny, who as Secretary of State should have attended to the matter, took Keudell into his counsels and they thought the thing could be done by introducing a few alterations into the old Constitution of the German Bund. Bucher had to draft the preamble for it. On his return he was summoned to the Chief, who declared Savigny’s performance to be worthless, and dictated to him, Bucher, with the assistance of “a little book,” probably Pölitz’s work on the various Constitutions, the main lines of a Constitution for the new Federal State, which he then wrote out with the help of a clerk, and—when the latter was unable to write any longer—in his own hand. He began work in the afternoon and went on with it all night through and until next morning. After the Chief had made a few alterations he immediately had twelve copies of the Constitution written out in the Foreign Office. Bucher also gave me some particulars of Keudell’s stupidity. When he was going to Rome the Chief, for his personal information, explained to him his views about Italy, saying that we should not tolerate a move towards France. Keudell thought he should mention this to Visconti-Venosta, and did so. The Chief disapproved, and instructed him to take the first opportunity of stating to the Italian Minister that what he had said was merely the expression of his personal views. He has, however, omitted to report whether he had carried out these instructions.

On the 15th I wrote to the Prince asking for an appointment, and in accordance with the reply, called at the palace in the Wilhelmstrasse on the 27th of January, 1887. While I was waiting, first Rottenburg and then three little Rantzaus with their nurserymaid passed through the antechamber. (...) At 2.15 P.M. Theiss called me in to the Prince. He came towards me, reached out his hand and asked how I was. I replied: “Well, and as one sees from the newspapers it is the same with yourself.”

He: “Not during the last few days. I have an oppression and pains here (he passed his hand over his chest), I fancy something like inflammation of the lungs”—a statement which was open to grave doubt, as he looked quite healthy and rosy.

When Tiras had been driven away and I had taken a seat opposite him at the writing-table, he asked: “Now then, what have you been doing in the press recently?”

I replied: “A variety of things in the Grenzboten on the situation. But you yourself have said the last word on the subject in the Reichstag, fully and convincingly—for sensible people. But I fear it will not last long. The stupid people will not die out in the land, and no sooner have you enlightened them, than somebody will take pains to put the light out again. The clerical press continues to pile up misrepresentations and lies, and the large and small sheets of the Progressist party do the same to the best of their ability; while the judicial luminaries of the provinces help to stir up discontent.”

He: “Yes, and all the pettifogging attorneys. I fancy, too, from the credulity of the public there is little improvement to be hoped for from the new elections.”

I: “It is a pity that the representatives of the people, as they call themselves—the representatives of the cliques—were not excluded by the Constitution from all interference in military and foreign affairs. It should only have been allowed in exceptional cases, and on the special invitation of the Government. Such a provision had been unfortunately omitted from the North German Constitution.” He said that was not quite the case, but it was true that at that time mistakes had been made, as he was ill at the beginning, and the “Ministry of War,” which was jealous of the “Military Cabinet,” introduced various unpractical provisions. He then explained to me the present legal position, much as he had already done in the Reichstag, reading and commenting upon the paragraphs in the Constitution which affected this question, beginning with § 60. He concluded with the words: “Things may again develop into a conflict, if the three Powers which have equal authority cannot come to an understanding in the hour of danger. Our first and greatest necessity is a strong and steadfast army, as that secures our external freedom, our existence, our possessions against the foes that threaten us from without. Of course we could defend these without the present Constitution, and could certainly do so more successfully without a Reichstag like the last one, which was much less an expression of our unity than of our divisions and Particularism and which was little else than a hindrance in the defence of our most important interests. I could immediately secure the sanction of the Emperor to a change in this respect, and that of the Federal Governments also. But that must wait yet awhile—until we see how these and perhaps the next elections turn out. If no better Reichstag is elected, when the compromise, i.e., the septennate, has run out, the first thing will be to put into force the provision which allows the Emperor to call out contingents proportionate to the population, the only restriction arising from financial considerations. He has always the right to raise as many soldiers as he considers necessary, and of course the expense thus incurred must be voted.—But what I wanted to say to you is this. I have used reassuring language in the Reichstag with regard to the present attitude of Russia towards us. But many considerations had to be passed over in silence to which it would not have served my purpose to give utterance, but which may be indicated in the press—cautiously. There, I was speaking not only to the members of the Reichstag and the German public, but also to foreign countries, and to a particular quarter where I wished to let it be seen that I trusted to their insight, good will and love of peace, and where such confidence is appreciated—the Emperor Alexander—especially when it comes from a quarter in which he himself may and really does repose unlimited confidence. That is quite true. The Emperor and Giers now anticipate no danger for Russia from Germany, and consequently do not think of attacking us; and so far as the immediate future is concerned they will in all probability not adopt a hostile attitude towards us, if things remain as they now are in Germany and Russia. At the same time a change may occur in the situation. There is, in addition to the Emperor, a kind of public opinion, parties that must be reckoned with even now, and which in a war between Germany and France would exercise all the greater influence on the decisions of the Crown, in that their views and demands would appear to coincide with the real interests of Russia. There you have the pan-Slavists, with their hatred of the Germans and their leaning towards France. And then there are the Poles and the Liberal Russians, who desire a war with us in the hope that it would result in the defeat of Russia and secure their ultimate aim, namely, independence for the Poles and a Constitution for the others. In case of a conflict between Germany and France, these parties would exert a stronger pressure in exalted regions than they have ever been able to do up to the present, through their newspapers, and their allies in the army, in the Ministries, and in Court circles. Even the possibility of their efforts ultimately affecting the judgment and love of peace prevailing there—as did actually occur under the late Emperor, before the last Russo-Turkish war—would force us to send an army of observation of at least 100,000 men to our eastern frontier to watch the 200,000 soldiers stationed by Russia in her western provinces, thus considerably weakening our available forces against France. Moreover, supposing that, in spite of this, we were victorious, public opinion in St. Petersburg and Moscow, and ultimately the Government under its pressure, would scarcely suffer us to turn our victory to sufficiently good account in order to thoroughly weaken France for the next thirty or forty years, as that would be a strengthening of the German Empire which might arouse serious apprehension in Russia. Finally, it may be regarded as well-nigh certain that while we were engaged in the west the Russians would attack Austria, as her armaments, even more than ours, require strengthening—a duty which she has hitherto with culpable levity neglected—and in the long run we should doubtless be obliged to come to her assistance. Of course I could not say all that, and even in the press it must be very cautiously dealt with.”

I observed: “I do not know whether I am right, but I fear a war with Russia less from any apprehension of defeat, than because, in case of victory, I do not see what we could take to compensate us for the great sacrifices incurred.”

He: “Certainly, and for the great number of troops we should lose. That keeps me from a war with France also. In that case, too, it is a question of ‘Was kannst Du, armer Teufel, geben?’ (Thou, poor devil, what canst thou give?)”

I: “In the long run the milliards were also no blessing, at least not for our manufacturers, as they led to over-production. It was merely the bankers who benefited, and of these only the big ones.” From this we came to speak of the Stock Exchange and the present fall of prices, whereupon he remarked: “Bleichröder told me recently that he too has mobilised his forces, and at the right moment, some time ago.”

I mentioned having read in the Boersenzeitung that, according to a small South German newspaper, the Emperor had been much incensed at the rejection of the Army Bill, and had spoken in the presence of Bismarck and the Crown Prince of a step which, if carried into effect, would have aroused the deepest regret. People thought that this referred to his abdication. But who could have circulated and made public the account of such an incident? He said: “The only element of truth in the story is that he was very angry with the Opposition. There was no question of abdicating. But he might very well be induced to agree to a step which would put an end to all the difficulties that the Reichstag can raise in military matters.” He then spoke once more of the Opposition parties, and their mendacity and fictions; as that he (Bismarck) wants to abolish or to restrict universal suffrage, and with the assistance of an accommodating Parliament, to introduce tobacco and spirit monopolies, and what not besides, even to the revival of serfdom. “That is only credited by the stupid voters. They themselves, Richter and his apostles, do not for a moment imagine that anything of the kind is intended. It is a mere electioneering dodge of a gross and audacious description, according to Goethe’s recipe: ‘Willst Du sie betrügen, so mach es nur nicht fein.’ And it is the same with that lying rascal Windthorst, and his priestly followers. At one moment liberty is threatened, and then the Church, and all this merely to hide the fact that he will not let the Empire have peace, and wants to pave the way for the return of the Guelphs to Hanover. The whole crowd are hypocrites, and wear masks, and in all this Parliamentary mummery I am the only one who shows his face. They are Particularists one and all, in spite of their professions. The German Liberals are Particularists for their party, and the others are territorial Particularists. They are all striving for disintegration and dissolution. But when all is said and done, a Prussian King of to-day can, if they don’t want him, renounce the Empire and exist for himself alone.”

I asked: “How do you stand with the old gentleman at present?”

He: “With the Pope? Excellently, and in this question, too. He also trusts me and has reason to believe in my fair play. I told him I was prepared to go still further, meaning that I should even be pleased to see a Papal Nuncio in Berlin. But the King will not have it. He thinks in that case he would have to become a Catholic in his old age. The Ministers are also against it, but without reason. I am not afraid of it. On the contrary, things would go better. At present, Windthorst is the Nuncio, the Father of Lies. We know now exactly how he carries on with Rome. We have letters of his in our hands. A real Nuncio could not lie in that fashion to us and to the Pope, who is well disposed and reasonable. He would be an ecclesiastical diplomatist, whose aims would be purely ecclesiastical, and who would not wish to lose credit with the Government and render himself impossible. He would have to carry out the instructions of his superiors in Rome—not at Gmunden—and those instructions would be imbued with a peace-loving spirit and would be favourable to the maintenance of the Empire—as may now be seen from the desire expressed by the Pope that the Centre party should vote for the Army Bill.”

I: “What I was really thinking of was the Emperor and your relations to him.”

He: “I have also been on the best of terms with him for a long time past. Apart from the question of the Nunciature we are in perfect agreement upon all points. The Crown Prince, too, is at present everything I could wish him to be, she is likewise thoroughly well disposed towards me.”

I: “Mr. Gladstone’s admirer? Why, that is most satisfactory.”

He: “They are now quite reasonable. They have no intention of introducing any change when the old gentleman goes, and they have repeatedly told me so. They are still afraid that I may not remain. And really I often wish it were otherwise, as I would rather go and spend my last days at Friedrichsruh, as a mere spectator.”

I: “And have Dr. Busch to arrange your papers, as your Serene Highness suggested three years ago.”

He: “Yes, that too. But I must remain as long as a Prussian King wants my services and wishes to retain me.”

I: “And after all you would not like to desert your work and let it fall into the hands of people like Virchow and Forckenbeck. You once spoke to me about Götz von Berlichingen and Metzler, the ringleader of the peasants.”

He: “That by remaining I could at least prevent the worst from happening. Such an eventuality is no longer to be apprehended. People deceive themselves greatly if they imagine there will be any considerable difference under the new King. But my position is difficult enough now that I no longer have the strength to work continuously at all manner of things, although there is always so much to be done. All the Ministers come to consult me upon subjects which, properly speaking, do not concern me, and make me responsible for them. That is the case even with the Ministry of the Household, where Schleinitz, the lazy fellow, neglected everything, and Stolberg is often away. But one must do his duty. As to what you say about my work, it looks great, but after all it is of the earth and transient. Besides, what is the meaning of ‘great?’ Germany is great, but the earth is greater, and how small the earth is in comparison with the solar system, to say nothing of the whole universe. And how long will it last?”

I: “Hegel maintained that the earth was the sole planet with intellectual life, thought and history.”

He: “Yes, because it was upon the earth he philosophised. Certainly there are worlds where things of much greater importance are thought and done. But that is the way of these professors (he mentioned Virchow, Du Bois Reymond, and then asked what was the name of the third natural philosopher—I suggested ‘Helmholtz’), they speak as if they knew everything; while they undoubtedly know a great deal in their own science, even there they are ignorant of the real root of things, to say nothing of other matters. They go as far as the cell, but what causes the cell?”

I: “I picture the world to myself as a point, that may be termed the first cause of God, which then extends itself to a ball, filling the void.”

He: “And yet permits it to exist for ever.” I rose to take leave. He gave me his hand and said: “I am glad to see you look so well and not in the least changed. And such a lot of hair still. Let me see.” I bent down in order that he might see the crown of my head, and he said: “Yes, it’s your own. I thought you wore a wig. But the beard is growing white. You should get it cut off and have your moustache dyed. Then you would be quite young.”

The most important part of this interview, which finished at 3 o’clock, was worked up into the article, “War Clouds in the West,” which appeared in No. 6 of the Grenzboten, and was forwarded to the Prince.

March 25th.—For about a week past various newspapers have published a statement to the effect that Keudell has tendered his resignation on the ground that the alliance between Germany and Italy which was concluded a short time since was not drawn up through him but through the Italian Ambassador in Berlin. A diplomatic negotiation of the highest importance had therefore been carried on over his head, and he had been merely instructed quite at the end to hand over to Robilant the reward for his good offices in the shape of the Black Eagle. In other words, Bismarck had looked upon him as fit only to fulfil representative functions of a formal order, and had acted accordingly. At last! How often does the pitcher go to the well before it is broken, said I to myself, as I read a démenti in the Kreuzzeitung. So not yet awhile? (...)

At 10 A.M. on the 28th of April one of the Chancery attendants brought me the following note: “The Imperial Chancellor would feel obliged if Dr. Busch would do him the honour to call upon him to-day at 2.30 P.M. Berlin, April 28th, 1887.” (No signature.) I went at the hour appointed and was told by the porter that Rottenburg wished to see me first. The latter said that the Prince had two commissions for me: one a description of the League of Patriots, and the other an article on the Hammerstein motion (respecting the Evangelical Church). At 3 o’clock Theiss showed me into the Prince, with whom I remained until 3.45 P.M. He again complained a great deal about his ailments and insomnia, as well as of being overburdened with work by all the Ministries. “Nevertheless,” I remarked, “on your last birthday you outlived the year in which you prophesied you were to die,” and I reminded him of what he had said at Versailles and at Varzin, adding that I now took the liberty for the first time of congratulating him on his birthday, because the last one marked an important division of his life. He smiled and said: “Yes, a division. I had observed that there were certain divisions in my life, with changes and alterations physical and mental, a certain recurrent cycle of years (I believe he said eleven) and from that and some cabalistic figures I had reckoned that I should reach the age of seventy-one years and die in 1886. As that has not happened I shall now probably live to the age of eighty-three or eighty-four.” He then came to speak of the subject which had led him to send for me. It appeared that he was not thinking so much of Hammerstein and Co., as of the embarrassment of the Ultramontanes in dealing with their “priestocracy,” the demagogues of the middle and lower clergy, whom they had summoned to their assistance against the Government, and who had now cast off discipline and were disinclined to follow the Pope’s instructions. He compared their embarrassment to that of the wizard’s apprentice in Goethe, and spoke of the “Anti-Papal Catholics.” He concluded: “I should not like to have that said in one of our papers. We still want the Centre party for the sugar and spirit taxes.”

I then mentioned the League of Patriots, and afterwards turned the conversation on to Alsace-Lorraine. On my observing that it might, perhaps, be possible to annex it to Prussia, or divide it between Bavaria and Baden, he replied: “To unite it to Prussia would strengthen by thirty votes the Opposition in the Lower House of the Prussian Diet, where things are now very tolerable. The Bavarians will not hear of it either, and still less the people in Baden, who are in absolute terror of such a change. If we were only living in the time of Charlemagne we could remove the Alsacians to Posen, and place the inhabitants of the latter country between the Rhine and the Vosges, or form an uninhabited desert between ourselves and the French. As it is, however, we must try some other method.” We then spoke about the Crown Prince, who, he said, was understood to have a polypus in the throat. It would be no wonder if he did not recover, as “she” never allowed him to have more than eleven degrees (Réaumur) of warmth in his room, and obliged him at Ems to go into the cold and windy mountain districts, and to cross the Rhine in storm and rain, &c.

I said: “It appears that Diest-Daber wishes to proceed with his action once more.”

He: “But how can he do that?” He then gave me an account of the affair, which originated in an action against Diest for libel. This was afterwards transformed by Klotz into a prosecution against him, Bismarck, which resulted in his vindication. He concluded: “Diest is suffering from the mania of persecution, that is to say, in its active form—he must persecute somebody. It would now seem to have turned into megalomania.” On our coming to speak of his fortune, I said: “To show what superstitions prevail on this subject, a tradesman, who is otherwise a sensible man, told me recently that you possess a fortune of at least a hundred millions.” He thereupon gave me a detailed account of his circumstances, and spoke of the value of his various estates, adding that he was not thinking—“as his sons wished him to do”—of increasing his capital, but rather of rounding off and improving his property. He mentioned Chorow and Sedlitz, and the purchases of land in the Sachsenwald, and similar matters. “I cannot help it,” he said. “When a neighbour’s property wedges itself into mine, and I see a fine clump of trees on it that are going to be cut down, I must buy that piece of ground.” In making such purchases he often paid too much, and frequently the estates were not well managed by those to whom they were entrusted. Thus, although in good years, when high prices were to be had for timber, &c., his profits might amount to about 100,000 thalers, he had, on several occasions, had no surplus whatever over his expenses. “Moreover,” he continued, “it costs me more to live in the country than in Berlin; and in Varzin my horses, with their fodder, cost me more than here. If I could sell my estates at what is probably their real value, I might doubtless get four millions for them.” He referred me to Rottenburg for the material for the articles. The latter handed me for use in the article on the League of Patriots the indictment drawn up by Tessendorf of Leipzig, the Imperial Chief Prosecutor (21st April, 1887), against ten inhabitants of the Reichsland (beginning with Köchlin-Claudon of Mülhausen, and winding up with Humbert of Metz), giving the history and description of the association. For the second article on the “Anti-Papal Catholics,” he sent me a few days later, by a Chancery messenger, a report of the Oberpräsident of Westphalia to the Minister of Public Worship, together with about a dozen newspaper extracts. The article on Deroulede’s horde appeared in No. 19 of the Grenzboten under the title of “The League of Patriots,” and the other, “Embarrassments of the Centre Party,” in No. 20 (of the 12th of May). I personally left both at the palace for the Chancellor.

During May and June Bucher met Hehn and myself regularly every Wednesday evening, sometimes at Huth’s and sometimes at Trarbach’s. He wrote for me the Grenzboten article on “Maharajah Dhuleep Singh,” which appeared in No. 26. He also promised a further article for that paper, drawing a comparison between the reigns of Queen Victoria and Queen Bess, of course not to the advantage or credit of the former, as, according to him, the Chief, with whom he had recently dined, and who had invited him to pay him shortly a visit at Friedrichsruh, wished to see something of the kind done in connection with the Queen’s jubilee. On the 28th of June Bucher started for the dragon’s lair in the Sachsenwald, having sent me a card on the previous day to let me know. He was back in Berlin in about ten days. Five of these were spent at Friedrichsruh, and the remainder of the time with Kusseroff in Hamburg. He told me that the Chief was not disposed to let him fire off the articles on the two English Queens. He would think over the matter, but in any case it should not appear in the Grenzboten, as that paper’s connection with him was suspected.

On the 1st of March, 1888, I received a letter from Rottenburg requesting me to call upon him, as the Imperial Chancellor had instructed him to discuss a certain matter with me. I went to him on the morning of the 2nd of March, and he told me that the Prince wished to have a portion of Beust’s book, Aus drei Viertel-Jahrhunderten, beginning on page 346 of the second volume, dealt with in the press, and for that purpose he would give me verbal instructions. I should first, however, read up the book in order to inform myself on the subject. When I had done so I was to send him, Rottenburg, a few lines, and he would then report to the Chancellor and let me know the day and hour on which the latter would receive me. I borrowed Beust’s book from Hehn on the same day, and carefully read over the part in question several times. This referred to the attitude of Austria before and during our last war with France, together with the differences it produced between Beust and Grammont. On the 5th I wrote to Rottenburg that I now believed myself to be sufficiently acquainted with the subject to understand and turn to good account any further information which the Imperial Chancellor might give me. I received no answer, however, inviting me to see the Chief. He was occupied with more important matters than Beust’s former policy, the illness and death of the Emperor William, and the accession of his son to the throne.

On the evening of the 28th of March at Knoop’s Bucher related the following particulars to myself and Hehn. (Casually foreseeing what was generally known a few days later, or informed of and prepared for it.)

“Princess Victoria, the daughter of our new Emperor and Empress, now about twenty-two years of age, was to have been married some time since to the Battenberger, who at that time was still Prince of Bulgaria, but already a tool of English policy. He made the acquaintance of the Queen of England’s granddaughter during his European tour. The thought of a marriage was probably suggested by the grandmother in London, who wished to see the position of her servant secured against Russia by an alliance with our Court. The scheme leaked out, and came to the ears of the Chief. Of course he was anything but pleased, and did not conceal his objections from the Emperor, but on the contrary expressed them both verbally and in a statement which I had to prepare. It would show us in a bad light at St. Petersburg, and it was not right to subject a Prussian Princess to the eventuality of a compulsory departure from Sofia. The Emperor recognised this and issued his veto, which must have been very unpleasant for the Crown Princess.” (...)

April 6th.—On the Chief’s birthday Prince William, now the Crown Prince, while offering his congratulations in person, invited himself to dine with the Chancellor. During dinner, according to the newspapers, he proposed a toast to the following effect: “The Empire is like an army corps that has lost its commander-in-chief in the field, while the officer who stands next to him in rank lies severely wounded. At this critical moment forty-six million loyal German hearts turn with solicitude and hope towards the standard and the standard bearer in whom all their expectations are centred. The standard bearer is our illustrious Prince, our great Chancellor. Let him lead us. We will follow him. Long may he live!” Coming from a member of the reigning house such language should mean a great deal. “Our great Chancellor”—words already used a short time ago by his Imperial and Royal Highness—“let him lead us; we will follow him!” What high appreciation and what modest self-suppression and honourable subordination on the part of the future Emperor! May God reward him for it, and grant him victory under that standard! But what does his mother think of it? Yesterday a Vienna telegram in the Kölnische Zeitung, which was greeted with scarcely concealed satisfaction by the Progressist newspapers, reported that Bismarck intended to retire. This leads one to think of the “Englishwoman” on the throne of the Hohenzollerns, and of “Friedrich der Britte” (Frederick the Briton) who is to govern according to her views. Has the toast of the 1st instant given offence to Guelphish self-conceit? Or has the Chief again advised against the suitor with the Bulgarian kalpak, who may have pressed his suit again and with a better prospect of success after the death of the Emperor William? At 10.45 A.M. this morning I handed the following letter to the porter at the palace to be immediately forwarded to the Chief: “In presence of the extraordinary report of the Kölnische Zeitung, which is now being circulated in the newspapers, I would beg your Serene Highness kindly to remember that in the future as in the past I hold myself absolutely and unconditionally at your disposal, and shall always continue to do so.”

April 7th.—At 11 A.M. a Chancery attendant brought me a letter of this day’s date from the Imperial Chancellerie, with an appointment to call upon the Prince at 2 o’clock. I was punctually in attendance; but on entering the antechamber, Friedberg, the Minister of Justice, arrived and was shown in to the Chief before me, remaining for about three-quarters of an hour. During this time Minister von Puttkamer also came in, and went away again after a conversation with Rottenburg. Thereupon the latter came to me and said it was doubtful if the Prince could receive me to-day, as he was very much exhausted. He had, however, informed him that I should be there at 2 o’clock. When he called me in, would I “make short work of it?” I replied that that depended upon the Chancellor and not upon me, but I would offer to come on another day if he were not disposed for the interview at present. At 2.45 P.M. Theiss showed me in to him. He was in undress uniform, and looked quite well, although, after he had shaken hands and asked how I was, he complained of his nervous excitement and insomnia. “I can only get a little sleep with the help of opium and morphia. I am over-worked, and, in addition to that, as you have read in the newspapers, I have latterly been worried by the people at Charlottenburg—by the women. The doctors insist that I should go to the country. Schweninger prophesies that otherwise I shall suffer from all possible forms of nervous diseases, together with typhoid. Besides, I ought to go to Varzin, to see after the damage done by the inundations. The Wipper has carried away all my mills, and to rebuild them may cost hundreds of thousands; but I cannot leave, for who knows what they would do when my back is turned—the women who want to have a share in the government—the Englishwomen? You have seen in the papers that I am thinking of retiring on account of conflicts and Court influence—not with the Emperor, who is much more reasonable and shares my views. The question now is as to the marriage of the Battenberger to Princess Victoria, which the Queen of England has in view. Three years and more ago, under the old master, it was actively promoted by her daughter, the present Empress, at first in secret. As soon as I then heard of it, I made representations to the Emperor, verbally and in writing. He allowed himself to be convinced by the reasons I adduced, and refused to give his consent, although she said the Princess loved him. Of course, he is a handsome man, with a fine presence; but I believe her nature is such that she would accept any other suitor, providing he were manly. Moreover, that is entirely beside the question. We must look at the political objections and dangers. The old Queen is fond of match-making, like all old women, and she may have selected Prince Alexander for her granddaughter, because he is a brother of her son-in-law, the husband of her favourite daughter, Beatrice. But obviously her main objects are political—a permanent estrangement between ourselves and Russia—and if she were to come here for the Princess’s birthday, there would be the greatest danger that she would get her way. In family matters she is not accustomed to contradiction, and would immediately bring the parson with her in her travelling bag and the bridegroom in her trunk, and the marriage would come off at once. Probably the Battenberger, too, would have been here by this time if I had not stepped in, for they are in a mighty hurry over there in London.”

I asked: “What is the actual condition of his Majesty at Charlottenburg? Is it really cancer, and how long is it likely to last?” He: “Cancer, and Bergmann has already given his opinion, some time ago: it is a question of three weeks or three months. Externally it is not very noticeable. He holds himself upright, and walks with a quick step. But his face (he pointed with his fingers between the cheekbones and the nose) has during the last few days become thinner, and he looks tired and depressed from the excitement. They actually ill-treated, abused and martyred him when he declined. He is glad that I have come to his assistance, as she is too much for him in argument. It is true that so far only a postponement has been secured. If the marriage nevertheless takes place, I can no longer remain in office, for I should then have lost all confidence in the future. That young and impetuous woman’s will would prevail more or less in other things too, while I should lose at St. Petersburg that reliance on my straightforwardness which I have so laboriously regained with the Emperor Alexander in spite of all sorts of incitements against me. It is true that in Charlottenburg they are most anxious to retain me—she also. They wrap me up in cotton wool and velvet. That also found expression in the rescript; but as the recognition was of too generous a character it aroused in my mind less pleasure and hope than doubt as to its sincerity, and as to whether something was not concealed behind it. If I can merely postpone and not entirely prevent these English influences upon our policy, if my remonstrances are no longer successful, and my voice not listened to, why should I continue to torment and overwork myself? I will not be a mere cloak for the follies of other people. If it were still the old Emperor with whom I was called upon to blunder along in this way—but to allow myself to be made use of by this Englishwoman, for her whims, for foreign interests, with danger and detriment to ourselves!”

I said: “The Emperor was after all a splendid old gentleman, a real King, with a high sense of duty and well-intentioned, and who knew how to appreciate you.”

He: “A trustworthy comrade, who would not leave one in the lurch.”

I: “It is true that he sometimes made your life a burden, and did not always treat you well.”

He: “Yes, but that was not done through ill-will, but through misunderstandings and insufficient knowledge of the matter in hand. When anything of importance was going on he usually began by taking the wrong road, but in the end he always allowed himself to be put straight again. Thus during the period of conflict when he could no longer get any Ministers, he wished to abdicate. When I was summoned to him at Babelsberg he had the act of abdication ready signed. He said: ‘If I cannot find any Ministers who will govern as I think right then my son had better try his hand.’ I assured him that I was prepared to be the Minister he wanted. ‘Even against the majority?’ he asked. ‘Yes, even against the majority,’ I replied. ‘Well then, that’s all right,’ he said, and tore up the document, and with it a whole sheet of concessions to the Liberals, which he had previously read to me.”

I: “Then afterwards when you travelled to Jueterbogk to meet him. The ladies at Baden had filled him with apprehensions as to an impending revolution, and he already saw the scaffold awaiting him, and you—you infused courage into him by appealing to his honour and grasping his sword knot, as you once expressed it to me?”

He: “Yes, and on other occasions he had too much courage, and wished to move too rapidly and take too much. Thus in 1864 he wished to march into Jutland without Austria, and at Nikolsburg to continue the war as far as Vienna.” I recalled the attack of hysterical weeping there. “Then at first he wanted to have half of Saxony, half of Hanover, Ansbach and Bayreuth, and a piece of Bohemia from Austria, until I persuaded him how unpractical that was.”

“And in 1870 the military conspiracy at Mainz before the march into France, and afterwards at Versailles his attitude towards the claims of the Bavarians?” I added.

He: “Certainly, when they actually proposed to proceed to violence against Bavaria and afterwards intended to deny her rights which she was entitled to claim.”

I said: “The expression ‘cloak’ reminds me of its converse. Monarchs are often adorned with other people’s feathers. If a battle is won at which one of them happens to be present as a spectator, he is said to have won it, although of course the staff has really won it; and so it is in your case in the field of politics.”

“Why, yes,” he replied; “but if the work is done and succeeds that is the main point. It is a matter of indifference who did it.”

He reflected for a moment, and then continued: “The new Empress has always been an Englishwoman, a channel for English influence here, an instrument for the furtherance of English interests. In her present position she is more than ever so, and the Battenberger is to be another tool of the same kind. In England they do not tolerate any foreign influence—you know how Palmerston and the others accused, opposed and persecuted the Prince Consort for his alleged or real influence over the Queen. We however are expected to submit to that sort of thing, and regard it as a matter of course. We are an inferior race, ordained to serve them. So the Queen thinks too, and her daughter is of exactly the same opinion. They are working in partnership. I would suggest to you to take the present opportunity of treating this subject fully, dealing with it from a diplomatic and historical standpoint, showing how England has at all times sought and still seeks to influence us for her own ends, and often against our interest, to use us for promoting her own security and the extension of her power, lately through women, daughters and friends of Queen Victoria. In doing so, please to make use of a small work that was published a few years ago in Switzerland under the title of Co-Regents and Foreign Influence in Germany (Mitregenten und fremde Hände in Deutschland). The anonymous author is not unknown to me. It is Duke Ernst of Coburg, and his account is on the whole correct.”

I said: “Doubtless it must be, since he belongs to the clique: Leopold of Belgium, Victoria in London, Victoria in Berlin, Stockmar, and also Josias Bunsen in the heyday of his career.”

He: “Yes, but that is no longer the case, as you will see when you read the pamphlet. You can go further back, however. Give a survey of English policy during the last couple of centuries.”

I: “Something of the kind must have existed even previously. An Englishman was once even German Emperor, Richard of Cornwall, before Rudolf of Hapsburg.”

He: “Yes, but confine yourself to modern history, going back as far as the beginning of the last century. Throughout that period the policy of England has constantly been to sow dissensions between the Continental Powers or to maintain existing discord, on the principle of Duobus litigantibus tertius gaudens, and to use the one against the other so that they should be weakened and damaged for the benefit of England. These efforts were first directed against France, then against Russia. First it was the Emperor in Vienna who had to wage war on their behalf, and then we were to take up the cudgels for them. Remember the Spanish War of Succession and the Battle of Dettingen. At that time it is true every State in Europe was threatened in its liberty and existence by the universal monarchy which was then in course of development in France, but none so much as England herself. And then think of the Seven Years’ War in which the English took the lion’s share of the booty, although they had ventured and accomplished comparatively little, while we conquered the French colonies for them. Latterly they have tried to play us off against the Russians who have become a danger for them on the Bosphorus, and still more on their Indian frontier. We are expected to make good the deficiencies of their military forces, threaten the Russian flank, and hold them back when they propose to march. First, during the Crimean War, in which by the way the French had little reason to join, we were urged, quite against our own interests, to co-operate with the Western Powers in opposing the Emperor Nicholas. I assisted in preventing that. Later on, in 1863, England wanted to see the Polish insurrection supported, as a means of weakening Russia, a course whereby we should have forfeited an old friend who might prove a still better friend to us in the future, and have gained no trustworthy friendship in the West by way of compensation; while in the Poles we should have strengthened an ancient foe, and created a natural ally for France. In 1877, when it was seen that a Russo-Turkish war was imminent, we were expected to exert our influence at St. Petersburg to prevent it—in the interest of humanity—as The Times demonstrated. Queen Victoria urged us to do so in a letter to the Emperor, which was handed to him by Augusta, who added her own intercession, and in two letters to myself. Humanity, peace and liberty,—those are always their pretexts when they cannot by way of a change invoke Christianity and the extension of the blessings of civilisation to savage and semi-barbarous peoples. In reality, however, The Times and the Queen wrote in the interests of England, which had nothing in common with ours. It is in the interest of England that the German Empire should be on bad terms with Russia. Our interest is that we should be on as good terms with Russia as the situation allows. Latterly I have directed my endeavours towards this end, and I have succeeded, in spite of various opposing influences;—and now the Battenberger is to be called in to nullify my success, to inspire the Emperor Alexander with fresh suspicions, and to supply the Moscow press with plausible grounds, which would have at least appearances in their favour, for asserting that we entertain secret designs. Prince Alexander, who has been selected as bridegroom for the daughter of the German Emperor, would, if that marriage were to take place, not only appear but actually be a permanent channel for English influence with us—that is the essence of the scheme—emphasise and repeat that—so far as this influence is directed against Russia. He is really a Pole, through his mother, who married, as a Fräulein Hauke, a member of a family which is neither old nor illustrious. (...) Such a relationship is decidedly not suitable for the Prussian Royal House and a daughter of the German Emperor. The Emperor Frederick sees and feels that too, perhaps even more than we do, for he has a very high opinion of his family and its dignity. But apart from that the more important point is that the Emperor Alexander hates the Battenberger with his whole heart, indeed there is perhaps no one else whom he knows and hates so thoroughly.”

I said: “The unheard-of rudeness of the letter striking his name off the Army List, a communication well nigh unparalleled in the intercourse of Princes.”

He rejoined: “Yes, and other things too. But he richly deserved it through his falsehood and treachery. As a nephew of the deceased Empress he was regarded in St. Petersburg as a fitting instrument for advancing Russian interests as Prince of Bulgaria; and that was quite legitimate in view of the gratitude which the Bulgarians owed to Russia for their liberation, while it was also the ultimate and real object of the war of 1877. At first he governed in this sense, but he afterwards took up with the English, who wished to create a Greater Bulgaria to serve their purposes, and like Rumania be under obligations to them. It was to be developed into a new kingdom, which should stand in the way of Russia. That had been planned long beforehand, and the way had been prepared by various measures; but the Prince always tried to dispel any uneasiness by beautifully reassuring speeches and categorical promises. Finally he pledged himself to Giers not to make any kind of change in Eastern Rumelia; and yet shortly afterwards the revolution broke out in Philippopolis, with his previous knowledge and co-operation. It would be a miracle, and utterly opposed to human nature, if the Emperor Alexander did not hate him with a deadly hatred for this dishonourable conduct, this breach of faith. He will never forgive him, and will always look upon him as a sworn enemy, embittered moreover by having been driven out. If he were accepted as a member of the German Imperial House, it would fill the Emperor with a suspicion which nothing could dissipate. It would be a permanent threat to peace. He would not on that account declare war upon us immediately and without more ado, as Napoleon did in similar circumstances in 1870; but he would hold it to be a confirmation of all the old doubts as to our sincerity which we had proved to be unfounded, and the Russian press would renew its agitation with the same violence and malice as formerly, and with more success. It is not yet certain that Russia would take up arms against us if we were to be again attacked by the French; but if the Russians were to declare war upon us the French would certainly join them immediately. And after all in such a war we should not be so very certain to win, while it would be a great misfortune even if we were victorious, as in any case we should lose a great deal of blood and treasure, and also suffer considerable indirect damage through the interruption of work and trade, and we should never be able to take anything from the French or Russians that would compensate us for our losses. It is only the English who would benefit by it. It would be an English war if the Battenberg marriage led Russia to join the French attack on us. We are well armed, but at all events large masses of troops would be put into the field against us, and Austria has not yet developed her defensive forces as she could and should do; and no real confidence could be placed in Italy. It is possible that the French may regain their footing there and win back the Italian friendship, if other parties came into power. Indeed even a Republic is possible, and Italy may resume her irredentist schemes and claims against Austria.”

I said: “I shall keep all that in mind, and write the article as well as I can. Perhaps I may be allowed to mention the influence brought to bear by the English ladies against the bombardment of Paris. You remember: ‘Schurze und Schürzen’” (aprons and petticoats; that is to say, freemasons and women).

“Yes, do that,” he replied; “but at the same time remember the press laws. Be very cautious, diplomatic, and not too venomous; and always emphasise the fact that it is foreign influences that are working against me; not the Emperor, but the reigning lady and her mother.”... “But,” I said, “will it not throw an unfavourable light on the Emperor, making him appear weak and pitiable, if one says that he is opposed to the Battenberg project, but may be brought to give in to the demands of the ladies?” He replied: “It is not necessary to say that in so many words; but it is nevertheless a fact—and it was much the same with the late Emperor, who had also to struggle against feminine influence, and was thankful to me when I stiffened him against it. In these cases he used to say to me: ‘Do it in such a manner that they may fancy they have had their way, while we really manage as it should be.’ On the whole, I got on well with him.”

After I had been with him somewhat over three-quarters of an hour, he called my attention to a very curious little work of art which stood on his writing-table. It consisted of a large grey pearl mounted with diamonds and rubies, representing the head of a greyhound with a golden tobacco pipe in its mouth. This, he explained, was “a present from Mexico.” I then took my leave, and he was about to lie down to sleep. In the antechamber Theiss told me that while I had been with the Chancellor the Grand Duke of Baden called to see him. He had told him, however, that the Prince “had a conference,” and he accordingly went away. I proceeded direct to Bucher’s in order to repeat to him as literally as possible my conversation with the Chief, and thus to impress it more firmly on my mind. He had the Duke of Coburg’s pamphlet, which he lent me. He also gave me the following example of the manner in which the feminine half of the present Imperial family have been anglicised. “Princess Victoria, the Battenbergerin in spe, had a difference with her brother on one occasion respecting some household arrangement. ‘After all, that is much better managed at home,’ she said. ‘At home? What do you mean?’ he asked. ‘Why, at home in England,’ she replied. The particular epithet which Prince William applied to her is not known for certain, but it was either ‘goose’ or ‘sheep’”. (...)

On my return home at 6 o’clock I found the following note, enclosing an extract from the Deutsches Tageblatt, lying on my table:—“Dear Sir,—Prince Bismarck begs you to kindly introduce the article discussed to-day by a reference to the enclosed statements of The Times, in order that it should not appear to be written without any immediate occasion.—Yours truly, Rottenburg.”

On the 8th of April, having again been summoned to the Chief, I called at the Chancellor’s palace, and was shown in without much delay. The Prince, who was reclining in a chaise longue near the window, was reading the Kölnische Zeitung. I had to draw up an armchair close to him. He said: “Here is the Kölnische Zeitung writing against The Times, and also the Frankfurter Zeitung. You might also mention this in the article of which we were speaking yesterday, and correct them where necessary. The main point is that the Emperor is on my side. A syllable must be added here” (he pointed to the word “Kaiser,” which was underlined in red)—“Kaiserin. It is a struggle between the Emperor and Empress. She, as an Englishwoman, is in favour of the Battenberger; he will not have him, first for political reasons, like myself, and then because he actually hates him, for he dislikes the idea of a mésalliance, as he is very proud of his dynasty and position. Two Empresses are fighting against his opinion and mine,—those of India and Germany; and Victoria the daughter simply talks him down. She can make much better use of her tongue than he can. It has always been so, and now more than ever, owing to his illness and the way in which worry affects him. Besides, he is deeply devoted to his family. I was present on one occasion when she set at him so violently with her feminine logic and volubility that at last he sat there quite silent and depressed. He is delighted every time that I come to his assistance against his combative wife.” I related Bucher’s story about Victoria No. 3 and her brother. “Yes,” he said, “that is quite credible. At home with her daughters, she, the German Empress, only speaks English, the language of the Chosen People, and the Princesses write English letters to their father.”

He continued: “Look here! There they talk of my attachment to the dynasty. Well, that is quite correct, but it was more so under the father, the old master. I had all along wanted to retire at his death, and if I remain it may be taken as certain that I do so only on an understanding that I continue the old policy I have followed hitherto, and am protected from foreign influence and from the interference and misgovernment of women, which was never carried to such lengths as it is at present. I would therefore beg of you to call attention to the Progressist journals, to these Court Jacobins—use that word—who receive their orders from Charlottenburg, through the women whose names figure at the head of the Address, Frau Helmholtz, Schrader, and Stockmar, whose late husband was Secretary to the Englishwoman when she was Crown Princess. These Byzantine hypocrites, these democrats who wag their tails and crawl more abjectly than the most extravagant absolutist, would like to degrade me from being a servant of the State and of its head into a Court menial, although of course it is both my right and my duty to form my own opinion and maintain it like anybody else, all the more as I bear the responsibility for the mistakes, or, as in the present instance, the obvious follies that are committed in important matters.” He continued to dilate on this theme for a few minutes; and then again suggested that I should make use of the pamphlet of Duke Ernst of Coburg. He sent for Rottenburg, and told him that in using it elsewhere the passages which I should quote were not to be employed. When Rottenburg had gone I asked: “Are you quite sure that it was he who wrote it? It is very strong for him, although from the style, which is rather vulgar and careless, it might well be his work, besides which he is acquainted with the facts through being closely connected with the Queen.” He replied, smiling: “He himself told me so” (in English). I then spoke of his autobiography, which I described as badly arranged and prolix. “Yes,” he said, “he has somewhat the same failing as Beust. He can suppress nothing—not the most trifling circumstance respecting what he has done or tried to do, and collected.” I inquired as to the instructions respecting Beust’s book. He replied: “That must wait. We have now more important matters to deal with. Later on, perhaps. For the present you might get them to give you the book. I have underlined a few things which appear to me to be incorrect. But now I must try to get some sleep. At present my pulse goes on an average fifteen beats in the minute faster than it did during the preceding reign.” I took my leave, with good wishes for his speedy improvement. I had been with him about twenty minutes. In the following three days I wrote the desired article, and sent it to the Grenzboten, where it appeared in No. 17, under the title, “Foreign Influences in the Empire.”

April 25th.—This evening at Knoop’s, Bucher described the candidature of the Prince of Hohenzollern, in which he himself had taken a part, as a “trap for Napoleon.” He added that neither the Emperor William nor the Crown Prince had the least idea of this feature of Bismarck’s manœuvre, of which he, Bucher, also gave particulars to the Crown Prince after his journey. They both regarded the candidature as a means of exalting the glory of their House.

April 28th.—This afternoon met Bucher in the Königin Augusta Strasse.... He said, smiling: “I have just heard a surprising piece of news. Grandmamma behaved quite sensibly at Charlottenburg. She declared the attitude of the Chief in the Battenberg marriage scheme to be quite correct, and urged her daughter to change her ways. Of course it was very nice of her not to forget her own country and to wish to benefit it where it was possible for her to do so, but she needed the attachment of the Germans, and should endeavour to secure it; and finally she brought about a reconciliation between Prince William and his mother.” I asked, “Have you that on good authority?” “On very good authority,” he replied. “Well,” I said, “that is highly satisfactory, and we shall act accordingly in the immediate future, for, of course, we do not hate Victoria II. on account of her extraction, but because she feels as an Englishwoman and wishes to promote English interests at our expense, and because she despises us Germans. The question is whether in the long run she will heed this maternal admonition. It is not easy to rid one’s self of a habit of thought of such long standing.” He agreed with me in this.

April 29th.—I read this morning in the Berliner Boersenzeitung: “We are in a position to state that the Imperial Chancellor, as was indeed to be expected, is most indignant at the notorious article in the Grenzboten slandering the Empress Victoria, and that he has given expression to his condemnation in very strong terms. In this connection exceptional importance is to be attached to the sympathetic article in the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung on the Queen of England’s visit.” Doubtless as that paper is in the Bleichröder’s service, this utterance has been inspired by that firm, over which floats the flag of the British Consulate General. Well informed? Possibly, indeed probably. A disclaimer? Why not! Quite in order! Tempora mutantur? But I shall never change towards him, nor he doubtless towards me. He will once more call for his little archer when he again wants an arrow shot into the face of this or that sun, and “Büschlein’s” bow shall never fail him. My “libellous article” was, I see, indignantly denounced in the Daily Telegraph and the Neue Freie Presse. In doing so the former described the Grenzboten as “a publication which, for well-known reasons, is read with attention throughout Germany.” The Neue Freie Presse spoke of a want of tact which would be regarded as impossible if it were not in evidence in black on white. Excellent! In this manner what I had written secured a wide circulation, particularly as other journalistic hacks will probably without wishing it have recommended the article in a similar way. (...)