On the 10th of July, 1881, Bucher wrote me the following note in pencil:—

Glaser’s letter appeared in a small pamphlet, entitled, An Austrian Minister and his Father, published in Berlin, 1872, by Kerskes and Hohmann. It contained the following passage: “Another year, and the Chosen People shall have attained the object of the Holy Alliance,[1] which they concluded in Paris. We have no more ardent desire than to see the day arrive when we can bid him (Prince Adolph Auersberg) good-bye, and see his place taken by one from our midst” (the Jewish Liberals); and “then” (when the aristocratic party is suspected by the dynasty, and has fallen out of favour) “a really new and regenerated nobility, drawn from our people” (the Jews) “shall enter into power, and fulfil the mission to which God has called them.” I had this letter reproduced in the Grenzboten, with a few introductory remarks.

On the morning of the 11th of July I called upon Bucher, from whom I ascertained that he had collected the material for his pamphlet on the Cobden Club in the British Museum, about a fortnight previously. He had gone to London, under instructions from the Chief, giving a false name, and holding no intercourse with anybody.

On the 21st I called on Bucher at the Foreign Office, to remind him about the pamphlet and the proposed Grenzboten article. He had been unable to write the latter, as he could not obtain a book which he required for the purpose. (This was the Principles of Currency, a work by the Oxford Professor, Bonamy Price, which appeared in 1869.) He gave me his pamphlet, and a quantity of material for the article upon it, to which he made some additions during the following days. He also sent me a number of English and French publications, to be used for the same purpose. In the meantime, Glaser’s letter was emphatically declared to be a forgery by Glaser himself. Bucher, however, still held it to be “genuine in the main.”

I now wrote a series of five articles, entitled “Characteristics of the Manchester School,” based on Bucher’s pamphlet, and the notes and books with which he supplied me. These appeared in Nos. 33 to 37 of the Grenzboten.

On the 27th of July Bucher related to me “an anecdote illustrating the way in which the Secretary of State von Bülow carried on business.” Lasker called upon him one day to introduce a Frenchman, one Comte de Jolivar, who was going to Constantinople, and wished to have a letter of introduction to our Embassy there. Bülow had this letter prepared, and added in his own hand a few words of warm recommendation to Werther, who was our representative at the Porte at that time. The Comte proceeded on his journey with this document in his pocket, and one of the first things he did on his arrival at the Golden Horn was to swindle a German artisan out of a respectable sum of money. This was soon followed by similar operations, which speedily came to Werther’s ears, who probably had already felt surprised at the Frenchman having asked for and received recommendations from the Foreign Office in Berlin, instead of from that in Paris, or from the French Minister in Berlin. He reported these cases of swindling to the Wilhelmstrasse, and from there inquiries were addressed to the Foreign Office in Paris. The information received was to the following effect. Comte de Jolivar is not a Comte, but only a Chevalier, that is to say, chevalier d’industrie, who—as the police records show—has been condemned on several occasions for embezzlement and swindling, and was once prosecuted for forgery, but just managed to save his skin. “Tableau” in the office of our Secretary of State!

Bucher praised Hatzfeldt, who has entered upon the duties of his office in succession to Bülow, as a pleasant and easy chief. Speaking of Bunsen, Bucher said that he had written for the Secessionist Tribune. Bucher also referred to the controversy which he had recently fought out with Bunsen, in the columns of the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung.

On the 29th of July I received the following note from Bucher:—

The enclosure mentioned in paragraph 1 ran as follows:—

On the morning of the 30th I forwarded this paragraph to the Daily Telegraph, stating that it came from the “very best source,” and adding that I should be thankful for its insertion. On the 31st, however, I received the following note from Bucher: “Herbert has just telegraphed to me to hold back the paragraph on the Anti-Nihilistic society for the present. Luckily Sunday has intervened. Will you please countermand it by telegraph, and charge me with the costs?” I accordingly telegraphed to London, and the paragraph did not appear.

The second enclosure was worked up for the Grenzboten, and published in No. 32, under the title of “The Genesis of the Anglo-French Commercial Treaty.” It was completed by an extract from Chevalier’s letter, which was published by the Pall Mall Gazette.

In the meantime, on the 30th, I received the following note from Bucher: “As your articles on the Manchester School in the Grenzboten will one day form material for the historian, I would suggest that after the reference to Schlesinger and his association with the Treasury, you should insert the words: ‘since the Macdonald affair at Bonn.’ I will give you the particulars for your memoirs. They are very curious.”

Bucher left for his holidays on the 1st of August.

On the 14th of September Bucher wrote to me that he was in Berlin, and on the 21st I called upon him. He told me that the Chief had again had “difficulties with the Emperor.” The latter now reads no more newspapers. Recently, however, some courtier must have called his attention to a paragraph which he represented to come from the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung, to the effect that a Papal Nunciature was to be established in Berlin. The Emperor thereupon wrote the Chief a “snappish letter” which commenced somewhat in the style of Zwückanör (one of the comic figures in the Kladderadatsch): “I am much surprised.” The Chancellor first sent a short telegram, saying that he knew nothing of any such paragraph in the newspaper in question (which had contained nothing of the kind), and afterwards forwarded a memorandum on the subject, which filled three sheets of paper. “He was greatly incensed at the action of the Most Gracious.” Tiedemann, who has now been definitively replaced by Rottenburg, goes in the first place to Bromberg, in the capacity of Regierungspräsident, and not, as he had desired, and expected, to Kassel as Oberpräsident. The mention of Keudell in the first Grenzboten article on the Manchester School, which has been described by the Progressist press as a “violent attack,” has led that gentleman to state in the Morning Post that he had requested the President of the Cobden Club to remove his name from the list of members. He at the same time endeavoured to defend himself in Progressist journals, like the Vossische Zeitung and the Berliner Tageblatt, concluding, as usual, with self-praise. Bucher remarked: “These almost identic articles are written by himself. Only his signature at foot is wanting.” These productions were forwarded to the Chancellor at Varzin, who thereupon had the following statement published in the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung:—

On the morning of the 25th of October I paid Bucher a visit at his lodgings. He complained that the Chief now occupied himself too much with press matters. Instructions of this description came from Varzin almost daily, and sometimes three or four together. No one in the office understood anything about them, neither the sons, nor Rantzau (who was paid for that purpose, but who, nevertheless, could only take down dictation from the Chief), nor Holstein, who was a mere “bungler,” and least of all Rudolf Lindau, who “is quite incapable, has had no political or journalistic training, and can merely play the amiable, tell good stories and go out walking.” He had been brought into the Office by family influence, which also kept him there. “In Japan he made the acquaintance of Brandt, our Chargé d’Affaires, through whom he obtained a connection with the Intelligence Department of the general staff. He afterwards (if I rightly understood) accompanied Brandt to St. Petersburg, where he was presented to the Grand Duchess Hélène, who recommended him to Bismarck. The latter sent him to Harry Arnim in Paris as a Press Attaché. He afterwards received an appointment at the Foreign Office—again on an exalted recommendation. The Prince knows that he is entirely unfit for the duties which he has to perform, but the Grand Duchess protects him; and so, although he has been virtually shelved, it has been done in such a way that he appears to have control of press affairs.”

Bucher said that Count Bill is on very intimate terms with Paul Lindau ... with whom he had been in Hungary. Herbert had yesterday, on the instructions of his father, written Bucher a four-page letter, which he showed me, asking him, Bucher, to make a “journalistic onslaught” upon the Progressist candidate Klotz on account of his election speech. Rantzau, however, had been unable to obtain the most indispensable of essentials, namely Klotz’s speech, and, in fact, knew nothing whatever about it. One of the Chancery attendants, however, was cleverer, and remembered that it had been printed in pamphlet form and distributed by the thousand. This man arranged to procure a copy.

“Sybel is another plague with which the Chancellor has afflicted me,” continued Bucher. “It is not so long since Sybel was fighting against the Chief; but he has now been taken once more into favour, and is to write a history of Germany from 1860 to 1870.” For this purpose the Chief had at first ordered that all diplomatic documents of this period should be laid before him. Bucher, however, pointed out that it would be necessary to make certain exceptions, some of which he mentioned, including those concerning the Hungarian Legion. The Prince agreed to this, and arranged that the documents mentioned by Bucher, as also the “Secreta,” should not be shown to Sybel. The latter is now carrying on his researches at the Foreign Office, which Bucher does not regard as dangerous. He has come upon references to the documents that have been withheld from him, and has asked to see them, stating that he would anyhow have possession of them some day as Director of the State Archives. Bucher was, however, obliged to refuse his request. He complained of the responsibility imposed upon him in this matter.

He then went on to say that it was much the same with one Herr Poschinger, a Bavarian, who had taken it upon himself to describe Bismarck’s work as Envoy to the Germanic Diet in Frankfurt. The Chief had given instructions that he was to see everything relating to this period in the first and second departments of the Foreign Office. Poschinger plunged into these, and then sent his opus to the Prince for revision. The Chief did not care to read it, and instructed Bucher to do so. “I then found that it was merely an endless string of extracts, and not a book but only materials for a book; and that while he dwelt discursively on insignificant details, he cursorily dismissed or overlooked altogether matters of real importance.” That was pointed out to Poschinger, who revised his work in accordance with the suggestions made to him, abbreviating some parts and amplifying others, and then returned it to the Chief, who again forwarded it to Bucher. “It was now better material,” continued the latter, “but it was still no book. I reported to the Chief in this sense, and he gave instructions to obtain Sybel’s opinion on it. His agreed in the main with my own, but Poschinger discovered that Sybel had criticised him.”

Bucher thought that the visit which the newspapers reported Gambetta to have paid to Varzin about ten days ago was possible, and indeed probable. He declared, on the other hand, that the discovery, made by the National Zeitung, that this visit took place at Friedrichsruh, was unfounded, because the Chief was at that time suffering from severe pain in the back, which made it impossible for him to travel. “I do not like to make inquiries on the subject,” he said, “and I therefore know nothing positive about it. We should have reason to be thankful, however, if the visit took place, as it would make Gambetta impossible in France.”

October 28th.—Met his Excellency von Thile to-day in the Potsdamer Platz. We first spoke about the elections. Thile had formerly abstained from voting, but this time—like Bucher and myself—had voted for Stöcker. He then asked what I thought of the report that Gambetta had visited the Chancellor. I replied that it appeared to me to be possible, and indeed probable. “I will tell you something,” he said. “One of my acquaintances was recently at Frankfurt, where he put up at the ‘Russischer Hof’—you know, ‘Auf der Zeil.’ In conversation with the landlord, with whom he was acquainted, he asked whether there was any news. ‘Yes, and something of importance, Excellency,’ replied the latter. Gambetta was here recently on his way home from Germany, and lodged with us. The head waiter asked his servant where they had been, and the man replied: ‘Nous avons été à la campagne dans les environs de Danzig.’”

November 9th.—Called this morning upon Bucher at his lodgings to inquire about the article in yesterday’s Post stating that the Chancellor proposed to resign. I fancied the article came from Varzin, and was intended to prepare for a dissolution of the Reichstag, and to give the country an opportunity to choose at the elections between the Chief and the Liberals. According to Bucher, no one would believe that a general election would induce him to retire, and as to the dissolution of the Reichstag, that could only take place if it perpetrated some piece of stupidity. The article was purposeless, merely an expression of ill-humour at Varzin, which Herbert, “with his usual ineptitude,” had made public. “But they have been in the backwoods for half a year, and do not know what is going on in the world. The elections would have turned out better in many respects if the press campaign had not been so foolishly conducted. But these things are shockingly ill-managed at present. We have now no less than four Secretaries of State: Busch, the real one, who is good; then Herbert at Varzin; and Rantzau and Holstein here. These know nothing, and are incapable of doing anything properly. None of them reads the papers or knows what is going on, and if the Chief gives violent instructions they are carried out with still greater violence. It is sad that the Chief should think so much of providing for his family and finding places for them. Virchow was right when he brought that charge against him. And the other gentlemen are no better. In addition to the Secretaries of State we have the gentlemen who spend their time strolling about, and who are more often to be found out shooting than in their office.” He then mentioned two, including Radolinski, ... and added: “After all it was just the same formerly, when, in addition to Thile, there were only two who really worked, yourself and Abeken. Hepke had hardly anything but trifles to deal with, and the aristocrats for the most part spent scarcely two hours in the office, just for a little gossip and a glance through the newspapers and despatches—Hatzfeldt, for instance, and Keudell, who was incapable to boot.”... “Hatzfeldt rarely came before two o’clock,” said Bucher, “and often went away again at three. While they lived upstairs he usually came to play a game of croquet. He would ask Wartensleben, ‘Now what do you think of a little game of croquet to-day?’ Wartensleben used then to say he would go up and see whether the Countess would care to join them, and when he came back with the message that the Countess begged to be excused as she had something else to do, Paul would remark, ‘Well, then, one may as well say good bye,’ and take himself off.... And Keudell could really do nothing. I suppose I have already told you the story about Taglioni and Keudell’s thirty arrears of work? Well, at Versailles I was told by Wiehr—you remember him, the fat, bald deciphering clerk—it was simply frightful how little Keudell managed to do. When he sat down he wrote two or three lines, then pulled out his watch, took the rings off his finger and played with them, put them on again, wrote another few lines, stopped once more, and finally rose, leaving his work unfinished. On one occasion Taglioni took pity on him and offered to assist the Councillor. The latter was delighted with such an amiable fellow, and Taglioni actually disposed of some thirty items of work which were in arrear. But in spite of that a number of even sensible people had a high opinion of his power of work and his intelligence—people such as Gneist, for example, whom I know well, as we studied together. I always meant to enlighten him, but have not done so yet. It is necessary, however, that people should know Keudell if he is to be a Minister one day.” Bucher then came to speak of Count Herbert again, and I said that the Prince had once observed to me that he had thought of promoting him to be Secretary of State, as he had worked for seven years under his own personal supervision, but that he was too young. “Yes,” rejoined Bucher, “and so he is still. Paul Hatzfeldt will not remain. Things will go on for the present in the same way. He comes at two o’clock and disappears again at five, attends to nothing beyond the interviews with foreign diplomatists, and troubles himself very little with the other business—which, for the matter of that, is no loss. But when the Prince comes back, and he is summoned to receive instructions two or three times a day, it will not be at all to his liking, and he will go back to Constantinople. He will be replaced by Herbert, that haughty and incapable fellow, and more than one of the officials will leave.”

I asked, in conclusion, if he knew what the Chief had intended by the article on the Anti-Nihilistic society which I forwarded to the Daily Telegraph, and afterwards countermanded. “The Holy Drujina?” he said. “That was true. Such a society had been formed under the protection of the Emperor, who had subscribed a million and a half to its funds. Despatches have been exchanged between ourselves and St. Petersburg on the subject, and one of the members of the society has called upon Rantzau. But I cannot conceive what the Chief can have intended by the publication of the paragraph in England. If one of those gentlemen were to go there and murder a Nihilist leader, he would be hanged as a matter of course. The affair should have been treated as a profound secret, yet in a few weeks’ time it appeared in full, with all manner of details and humorous comments, in the Berliner Tageblatt. When I mentioned this to Rantzau afterwards, he was simply terrified. Of course he had not read it, and wished to know where it had appeared. I told him the name of the paper, and let him hunt up the number himself. I used formerly to get him the paper on such occasions, but now leave that to him, so that he may have at least some occupation.”

As I left, Bucher said: “If anything happens, I will let you know.”

The Prince returned to Berlin in the afternoon of the 12th of November. At noon of the 15th a Chancery attendant brought me a letter from Sachse, saying that the Chief desired to see me at 1 o’clock on the following day, Wednesday. I arrived at the time appointed, and was shown in to the Prince at a quarter-past 1. He had been dictating to Count William before I went in. The Chancellor, who was in plain clothes, looked fresh and hearty, but began by complaining of his health. He had been ill, he said, during the whole five months of his holiday, even at Kissingen, but particularly at Varzin, where he had had to endure great pain. It was his old trouble.

He then spoke of the elections, and stated that in certain circumstances he would retire, as he had already intimated to the Emperor. “The centre of gravity has changed,” he continued. “The Progressist and Secessionist Jews, with their money, now form the Centre. At first I was not in favour of this agitation (for Stöcker as an Anti-Semite). It was inconvenient to me, and they went too far. Now, however, I am glad that the Court Chaplain has been elected. He is an energetic, fearless, and resolute man, and he cannot be muzzled. The elections have shown that the German Philistine still lives, and allows himself to be frightened and led astray by fine speeches and lies. He will not hear of the protection of labour against the foreigner, nor of insurance against accident and old age, nor of any reduction of school and poor rates, but wants direct taxation to be increased. Well, he can have that, but not while I am Chancellor.”

“Do you seriously mean that, Serene Highness?” I asked. “I believe they have only nibbled at the democratic bait just as they did formerly.”

“It may be that they do not quite know what they want. But they have taken this course at the elections, their representatives vote against me, and, in order to govern I must have a majority—which I cannot find under these conditions. In case of necessity it might be possible to manage with a coalition of Conservatives and Clericals and such like, but the Centre Party has been against us all through the elections, and there is no trusting them. Folly and ingratitude on all sides! I am made the target for every party and group, and they do everything they can to harass me, and would like me to serve as a whipping-boy for them. But when I disappear they will not know which way to turn, as none of them has a majority or any positive views and aims. They can only criticise and find fault—always say No. You are right in saying that they have turned the people’s heads with their fine phrases and lies. They make out that I am in favour of reaction, and want to restore the old régime. If I can get my monopoly, tobacco will cost three to five marks a pound, but cigars will be three times as dear as they are now. They have frightened the people by reviving the old stories of the past, Junker rule, the corvée, territorial jurisdiction, and even the jus primæ noctis, as, for instance, in Holstein and Lauenburg. There the Danish Kings had allowed all the ancient institutions to remain—unadulterated mediævalism. The Junkers ruled, and were decorated with the Order of the Elephant. They took all the best posts as if they had inherited them. They held the most remunerative offices up to ten thousand thalers a year, or at least four to five thousand thalers; and yet they neither did nor could do anything except pocket fees and impose heavy fines. They farmed the domains among themselves, on the lowest valuations, and lived on the fat of the land. When I came there the people were obliged to drink the abominable beer which the Junkers brewed on their estates, and no one could purchase a piece of ground because they did not wish the population to exceed two thousand to the square (German) mile. There the people still remember all this misrule, and emissaries of the Progressists and Secessionists—who are just the same—threaten them with its revival, and warn them against me. I am represented as desiring to restore that state of things, yet the contrary is the case, and it was I alone who abolished it.”

I reminded him of the homage of the Estates in Lauenburg, Bülow’s anxiety respecting the maintenance of the Compact of the nobility, and the scene in the Ratzeburg Cathedral, asking if that was a correct account of the incident. He then related it to me once more, the narrative agreeing in all important particulars with that already given. Returning to the agitation that preceded the elections, he continued as follows: “They do not, however, even believe what they preach. They hate and slander me because I am a Junker and not a Professor, and because I have been a Minister for twenty years. That has lasted too long for them—hence their vexation. They would like to come to power themselves, and form a Government. But that is mere covetousness, and not ability, and if I were to make way for them they would be desperately embarrassed, and would recognise that they could do nothing. I was born a Junker, but my policy was not that of the Junkers. I am a Royalist in the first place, and then a Prussian and a German. I will defend my King and the monarchy against revolution, both overt and covert, and I will establish and leave behind me a strong and healthy Germany. To me the parties are a matter of indifference. I am also not a Conservative in the sense of the Conservative party. My entire past as a Minister is evidence of that. They saw that in 1873 in the question of the Inspection of Schools Bill, when they turned their backs upon me, attacked me in their papers, and wrote me absurd letters.”

He took from the shelves near him a copy of a letter with which he had disposed of an old gentleman in Pomerania (Senfft-Pilsach), who had at that time warned him to reflect and pray. This letter, which he read to me, directed attention, inter alia, to the Psalms, chapter 12, verses 3 and 4: “The Lord shall cut off all flattering lips, and the tongue that speaketh proud things: who have said, with our tongue will we prevail; our lips are our own: who is lord over us?” He then returned to the last elections, and observed: “The defectiveness of our institutions is shown by the credulity of the electors. It may come to this, that we shall some day have to say of the German Constitution, after all attempts at government and reform under it have failed, as Schwarzenberg said at Olmütz: ‘This arrangement has not stood the test.’ But that must not be printed now. It is only for yourself.... They have now invented another calumny. They take advantage of my attachment to the Emperor, and pretend that I am clinging to office, that I am devoured by the love of power. It may turn out differently, however, and I may say to them: ‘Here you have it! Now let us see you govern!’ That, however, can only be after a division on some important question, not on the electoral returns. The Emperor is half inclined to try it and let me go, if only for one session. Things cannot go on as they are much longer. Of course, I am not going to desert the Emperor; it would be unfair to leave the old man in the lurch. But I cannot renounce my convictions, and I will not have a return to the period of conflict. I demand more appreciation and better treatment.”

Returning once more to the statement that the Liberal parties had been guilty of gross misrepresentation during the last election, he added that they had at the same time set the followers of the Government a good example by their excellent organisation, energy, and self-sacrifice. “Many people on our side, such as Herzog, for instance, have also given a great deal of money,” he said; “but the Progressists have done more. They had all the treasure of the Hebrews at their disposal, and were at the same time thoroughly drilled and well organised.”

“And now,” he asked, “have I anything else for you? Unruh has published various things that should be refuted.” He took up the October number of the sixth year’s issue of the Deutsche Revue, which lay before him, and continued: “He maintains that he has written for historians, but he obviously intended to influence the elections. A great deal of it is erroneous, other portions are electioneering lies, and some parts require to be supplemented. Here, for instance, on page 9, he states that while I was still a member of Parliament I had a conversation with him which I concluded with the words: ‘Now I tell you, if your party is victorious, you shall take me under your wing, and if my side gets the upper hand I will do as much for you. Shake hands on it!’ This offer was actually made. And curiously enough, a similar proposal was made to me by d’Ester, the Radical member of Parliament. In this case, however, I declined, and said: ‘If your party wins, life will no longer be worth living, and if we have the upper hand, then hanging shall be the order of the day—but with all politeness, up to the very foot of the gallows.’”

He turned over the leaves of the Revue, and continued: “There is no foundation whatever for the statement that the Opposition was not aware during the years 1862 to 1866 that I had a strong anti-Austrian policy in view. Besides, it is clear from Unruh’s own ‘Memoirs’ that they were fully informed respecting this policy, and only offered opposition through hatred to me, the Junker, and in consequence of their own dogmatism. Here, on page 11, it is stated that shortly after the outbreak of the Franco-Austrian War in 1859, he had an interview with me at the Hotel Royal, when I said to him that for Prussia to come to the assistance of Austria would be an act of political suicide. I had entirely lost my sympathy for Austria. If we did not succeed in driving Austria out of Germany proper, and if she kept the upper hand here, then our Kings would once more be mere Electors and vassals of the Hapsburgs. There could be no doubt as to the attitude of the individual German Governments in case of a crisis. With the exception perhaps of a few of the minor States that fell within the sphere of Prussian influence, all of them, if forced to make a choice, would decide in favour of Austria. Prussia would, therefore, be isolated, but there were circumstances in which she might have the entire German people as her allies.... Surely that was plain speaking, and it ought not to have been difficult afterwards to recognise the connection between such language and the increase of the army. They would not see it, however.... On page 13 is another proof that they knew what I had in view: ‘When the King went to Baden-Baden, accompanied by the Ministers Von Auerswald and Von Schleinitz, Bismarck followed him, evidently with the object of continuing his efforts to prevent assistance being rendered to Austria.’ And on the same page we read: ‘There is another circumstance which strikes one as an important piece of evidence to show that Bismarck’s anti-Austrian policy, in so far as Austrian influence in Germany was concerned, did not originate in 1859, but was of older date. After 1866, speaking in the House of Parliament to the former Landrath of the Teltower district, I related to him my conversation with Bismarck in 1859, whereupon he told me that Bismarck had expressed the same anti-Austrian views to him in 1854, and frankly confessed his anti-Austrian policy. It was not until 1866, that is to say, twelve years later, that it was practically applied. Bismarck had therefore kept this plan of driving Austria out of Germany before him all that time, and had resolutely pursued it. This is of some importance in forming an opinion upon the period of conflict.’ That is certainly correct. And is it possible that what that Landrath in 1854 and Unruh in 1859 ascertained from me personally had not also come to the knowledge of the others and been present to their minds when they—the Liberals—fought against me with the utmost violence from 1862 to 1866?”

The Chancellor turned over a few further pages, and then continued: “With regard to the situation in the autumn of 1862, Unruh was convinced (page 15) that ‘if Bismarck desired to put an end to dualism in Germany, it was obviously impossible to do so without a war with Austria, and that for this purpose it was necessary to make the Prussian army as strong as possible.’ That is therefore what I have already told you. In October (page 16), during a general meeting of the National Union at Coburg, he communicated the conversation of 1859 to a confidential circle. He writes: ‘I told my old Prussian and my new German friends that they were quite mistaken in regarding Bismarck as a simple Reactionary or indeed as an instrument of reaction. He was certainly not a Liberal, but he had quite different ideas and plans in his head to those entertained by Manteuffel and his colleagues.’ The gentlemen were in doubt, and wanted to wait and see how I acted. In 1863 they would appear to have acquired the conviction (page 18) that I had given up my schemes of foreign policy, and was now nothing more than a reactionary Minister—of foreign policy, because (as they inferred by a most extraordinary process of reasoning) in the interval there had been in domestic affairs political persecution, measures against Liberal officials, restrictions on the liberty of the press, and attacks upon the freedom of speech in Parliament. But what in the world had that to do with my foreign policy, and the belief in my anti-Austrian schemes? Moreover, on the next page, one ascertains that at this period Unruh & Co. had received an assurance from a trustworthy source that I had a struggle with the Austrians in view. The writer of the ‘Memoirs’ reports: ‘Seidel, who was at that time Chief Burgomaster of Berlin, made me a communication which he said came from the Military Cabinet, of which General von Manteuffel was the head. According to this communication either Manteuffel or some one who was in intimate relations with him had said that Bismarck was exceptionally well fitted for the task of stamping out the Opposition in Parliament, and that when he had succeeded in doing that and the military organisation was secured, he must be set aside as he would otherwise bring about a war with Austria, and would use our increased military forces for that purpose. A conflict with Austria and a successful war against her would again drive the Conservative party from office. In order to keep the Conservatives in power it was necessary that Prussia should remain on good terms with Austria, and for that purpose they should even, if necessary, make concessions. This statement (Unruh goes on to say) looked highly probable. General Manteuffel was known as the head of the extreme Conservative or so-called Austrian party at the Prussian Court, and was much esteemed in Vienna. Bismarck had given frequent expression to his anti-Austrian plans even before he became Premier, and had indeed submitted them to the King himself. If Bismarck were to bring about a compromise with Parliament, and to conclude a peace with the popular representatives, his services, in the opinion of the Manteuffel party, would be of no further use, and he ought then to go. It would be quite different if in spite of the violent struggle with Parliament, he succeeded in carrying through the military organisation scheme. So long as the conflict with the popular representatives continued, he remained indispensable, his value increasing with the fierceness of the struggle.’

“This is a tissue of mistakes and contradictions. In the first place there is no foundation whatever for the statement that Manteuffel wished to get rid of me, and that he was the head of the Austrian party. It was rather Schleinitz who held that position, and who afterwards was in frequent intercourse with the Austrians, his salon indeed being their rendezvous. Manteuffel was by no means a partisan of Austria, but on the contrary a Prussian officer of ardent Royalist patriotism. But in that case one would have thought that if the Opposition in the Diet had been imbued with Prussian patriotism, if they had desired to see the dualism in Germany put an end to and the German idea realised through Prussia, they ought to have supported me with all their might, knowing as they did that I had exactly the same object in view. And that would also have been wise from their Liberal standpoint, since it was of course known that a victory over Austria would drive the Conservatives from power. Finally, there was no reason to apprehend my overthrow by the Austrophil Conservatives, as, according to Unruh himself, it was known that I possessed the confidence of the King, who, it was indeed said, had himself called me his spiritual doctor. The Opposition, however, instead of acting on such considerations, adopted a diametrically opposite course. They acted in an unpractical, illogical, impolitic way, and against their own interests, blinded by their stupid animosity and pettifogging dogmatism. It was necessary for the Liberals, if they desired to pursue a practical policy, to win for their cause—which could not be promoted without driving Austria out of the Confederation—the support of the King of Prussia, who had scruples as to a conflict with Austria, scruples which were encouraged by a section of his entourage. King William should have been gradually convinced of the necessity of breaking with the Vienna policy, and of attempting to give Prussia alone the leading position in Germany. I pursued this end, and Parliament should have done the same. Instead of doing so, however, they flew in the face of the King by refusing him the means for the reorganisation of the army, and they therefore lacked the necessary leverage for promoting their own views. There they were, floating in the air, with nothing to sustain them but the wind of their own speeches and self-conceit which deluded them into a belief in their own importance.

“Finally, Unruh says here (page 19) that I aggravated the struggle over the Military Bills into a constitutional conflict, that I assumed an aggressive attitude towards the Opposition, and endeavoured in almost every speech to incense them by jibes and sneers, all this for the sole purpose of maintaining myself in power and office against the Austrophil Court party; and, on page 20, he repeats the same charge in the following words: ‘I am still of opinion that Bismarck used and took advantage of the conflict to maintain and strengthen his position.’ Now that is a gross slander, such as would render a man liable to prosecution—a falsehood arising from the same blindness as another on page 16, according to which the great men of the National Union regarded me merely as the representative of reaction. I desired no reaction, then as little as now, when I am again charged with doing so. Had I desired it I could have had it. Unruh and his colleagues would not have been able to prevent it, and ‘The People’ who elected them, could have done nothing. But it was not the people. The determined attitude I adopted towards the Opposition in Parliament was just as little due to the love of power, or to the desire to strengthen my ministerial position. It was rather due to my innate Royalism, which has always been a leading feature in my character. It was this which made me hold fast to my position. In doing so I was guided by my sense of duty towards my King, who, in the circumstances then obtaining, could not have found another Minister. I remember saying to him, ‘No one shall have it in his power to say that your Majesty cannot find a servant so long as there is one nobleman of the Altmark still surviving.’ Otherwise, at that time, it was, honestly speaking, no pleasure to be a Minister. A Legation in Paris, or even in Frankfurt, would have been much pleasanter. There one had a good salary with little work, little responsibility, and little worry, and was not attacked and reviled on all hands. The provocation and the sarcastic speeches in Parliament, of which Unruh complains, were not intended to prolong or aggravate the conflict, but were an exercise of the jus talionis. I am stated on page 17 to have often been most offensive. There is no denying that. But even when my expressions were offensive, they were not nearly so offensive as the language used against me and other members of the Government by speakers in the House. They were much coarser and more malicious than I ever was, indeed actually abusive and threatening, speaking of ‘a Ministry of tight-rope dancers,’ of ‘the reactionary brand of Cain,’ and other unflattering epithets. I was not the man to submit to that sort of thing. It was not in my nature to turn the left cheek to the smiter. On the contrary, I defended myself and paid them back in their own coin. Then, in addition to that, there was my contempt for the doctrine of popular sovereignty, and my disgust at the Byzantine veneration paid to it by the Opposition. That was an abomination to me, and revolted me even more than their venom.

“The passage here on page 22, as to the motives of my attitude on the question of the payment of members in the North German Diet is amusing, and indeed ludicrous. Unruh says: ‘At that time I was still in favour of payment, but said to Bennigsen I did not believe that Bismarck would give way; perhaps it was entirely out of his power to do so. It seemed to me as if he had entered into binding engagements with the Upper House, which he expected later on to swallow universal suffrage, when the several States had given their necessary approval to the North German Constitution.’ With the Upper House! A body which always stood apart from active politics, and had no influence of any importance. An absurd idea!

“On page 24 he recalls a remark made by Loewe, that one of the chief defects of the German Constitution is that it was made after my own heart. Now, that is a mere phrase which no amount of reiteration in party newspapers and speeches during the last few years has brought any nearer to truth.

“On page 25 he says: ‘As far back as 1867 it must have become clear to every person of insight that there was no possibility of Parliamentary government under Bismarck. An essential condition of such government is that in certain circumstances there should be a change of ministers and parties capable of furnishing and supporting a Cabinet.’ This is quite true. ‘Parties capable of furnishing and supporting a Cabinet’—where were they to be found during the past two decades? I have seen none, neither one with a majority nor one with a positive programme. And, least of all, in the Liberal camp. All their manifestoes and speeches have consisted merely of fault-finding criticism and negation. They have never brought forward anything positive. They have only a thirst for office, ambition and envy, but not the power which is essential to productive government.

“On the same page he says: ‘Almost all parties, in so far as they are not hostile to German unity, consider the Imperial Chancellor to be absolutely indispensable.’ And yet from 1877 onwards I have been subjected to the most bitter hostility even from the National Liberals, and before and during the last elections the Progressist party gave out the watchword ‘Away with Bismarck!’

“The statement which immediately follows is also a mere hackneyed phrase: ‘A party which has no principles of its own, but only aims at securing a majority for the Government, affords no reliable support in critical and dangerous times.’ One would like to know why. Does the Opposition with its Liberalism perhaps offer such support, with its untrustworthiness, its suspiciousness, and vacillation, its huckstering and knuckling down, and its petty criticism and dogmatism?

“On page 29 it is represented as a matter of indifference whether the idea of a Zollverein Parliament was originated by me or by Delbrück. I take it that this ought not to be a matter of indifference to Unruh, who claims to provide materials for future historians. The idea did not come from Delbrück, but from me. As can be seen from Hesekiel’s book, I mooted it as far back as the time when I was in St. Petersburg, and embodied it in the treaties of 1866, which secured its fulfilment.[2] But he, as a Liberal and a member of the learned classes, must of course get the credit of having first originated it, not a Junker. I do not wish to say anything against Delbrück’s ability and merit, but it would never have occurred to him that the Zollverein could be turned to account in that way, for although he had a great deal of talent, he had no political instinct.

“On page 30 Unruh states: ‘During the debate on the Tobacco Taxation Bill, when Bismarck had declared a monopoly to be his ideal, Bennigsen informed me that he had broken off the negotiations into which he had entered with Bismarck in the autumn for joining the Ministry, and had told him that he could not commit himself to the monopoly.’ That is not true, or at least only half true. This is how the matter stood. In 1877 Eulenburg wished to retire. I offered his post to Bennigsen. He demanded that Forckenbeck and Stauffenberg should also be appointed Ministers, but there were no posts vacant for them. In the meantime Eulenburg hit upon another idea. He went to the King and incited him against me for having had anything to do with Bennigsen. His Most Gracious was offended, and in a brutal letter forbade me to treat any further with Bennigsen. Several months passed, during which time it transpired in the press that Lasker also counted upon a seat in the Cabinet. Bennigsen came to me subsequently in the Reichstag, an unusual thing for him to do, and inquired about the tobacco monopoly. I replied that I was in favour of it and would try to carry it, whereupon Bennigsen declared that he could not support the measure, and withdrew from the negotiations. Out of politeness I forbore to tell him that he was no longer in my mind, as I had been forbidden to think of him.

“Further on Unruh says: ‘From that time forward there was an obvious change in the attitude of the Imperial Chancellor towards the National Liberals.’ That is incorrect. The contrary is the case. From that time forward the National Liberals treated me with mingled coolness and hostility, withdrawing their support in the Diet and attacking me in their newspapers—chiefly in the National Zeitung, which is the most mendacious of them all, full of hypocrisy and trickery.

“On page 31 Delbrück’s free-trade system is spoken of as having been for a long time in force. The question here is what is meant by ‘a long time.’ The system which is here named after Delbrück has only been in existence since 1865, and we first began to entertain serious doubts respecting it in 1875. Up to the latter date I had had no time to think of its advantages or disadvantages, as I was obliged to devote my whole mind to watching and averting the serious danger of coalition which then existed.

“On page 32 there is a falsehood obviously calculated to influence the elections. I am made to say that I wished to ‘drive the National Liberals to the wall,’ while people heard at the same time that I intended to make a complete change in the previous customs and commercial policy. This is impossible. I first thought of the latter in November last; and to ‘drive to the wall’ is an expression which I have never used, either in this connection or in any other. It is not to be found in my lexicon. Every one knows whether he is apt to use a certain phrase or not, and I am quite satisfied that I have never used that phrase.

“The dissolution of the Reichstag after the Nobiling outrage is represented as a measure directed against the Liberals. It was in reality the very opposite, an act of complaisance on the part of the Government towards the Liberals. I wished to make the change of opinion with regard to the Anti-Socialist laws easy for them by means of a dissolution and new elections. But that is the way with these gentlemen and their excessive amour propre. If one does not always stand hat in hand before them, they regard one as their enemy, and full of arrogance. But I cannot do that. I do not set much store by criticisms and speeches intended for the newspapers. Indeed, I lack altogether the bump of veneration for my fellow man.”

At this moment Theiss announced the Minister Maybach. I rose, and putting under my arm the number of the Revue which he had given me with his grey, red, and blue pencil marks and comments, was about to leave. Before going, however, I said: “Might I venture to ask whether Gambetta has called upon you, Serene Highness?” “No,” he replied. “He has said so himself, and it is the fact. Of course it is evident from his journey to Danzig that he had thought of paying a visit to Varzin. He doubtless reconsidered the matter there, or they may have written to him from Paris that it would not make a good impression.” On Maybach coming in at this point the Chancellor said: “We were just speaking of Gambetta. It was not my business to deny the report of his visit to me. People might have thought that I had some grudge against him—that I wished to hold aloof from him, which was not at all the case.”

I took my leave and immediately wrote down what I had heard. The first part respecting the results of the elections was worked up into an article entitled “The Chancellor Crisis,” which appeared in No. 48 of the Grenzboten; the criticism of the Unruh Memoirs being utilised for an article in No. 49.

After I had received copies of these and of a third article, “The Imperial Chancellor and the Reichstag,” I handed over all three at the palace at noon on the 2nd of December for delivery to the Prince. An hour later I received the following letter from the Imperial Chancellerie, signed by Sachse:—