I presented myself at the palace at 3 o’clock, but could not see the Chancellor, as Prince William was with him, and Mittnacht, the Minister, was announced to follow. On my returning again at 4 o’clock Mittnacht was with the Chief, but left in about ten minutes. Immediately afterwards the Chancellor sent me word that he was waiting for me in the garden. On my passing through the door of the large antechamber, I found him standing outside with his dog. He shook hands in a friendly way, saying immediately afterwards, however: “But what have you been doing, Doctor? Why, that is all wrong, the very opposite of what I wanted. Surely the article is not yet printed?” I regretted that it was already published. “That is most unfortunate,” he rejoined. I asked which of the articles he meant. “Why, that about Unruh,” he answered. “You have said exactly what Bennigsen asserted. It might have been written by one of my worst enemies. And the other is also not correct—often pure nonsense. I remember it was just the same three years ago with the things you sent on to me to Kissingen and Gastein—in many places the direct contrary was the truth.” I replied that that was only the case in one instance, in the story about Rechberg, which was then left out. He would not agree to that, however, and continued: “You must submit these articles to me before they are printed. You now trust too much to your memory, which is not so good as it was formerly, or you have not listened attentively. I related it all to you quite differently.”

At this point we were interrupted by Count Bill, who brought a message. When he had gone the Chief took the article out of his pocket, and as it had grown dark we passed through another door into his study, where he looked through the passage once more. At the first, on page 395, where I—following Unruh’s statement—made the Chief say that in the year 1859 the German Governments “with the exception of a few minor States which fall within the sphere of influence of Prussia, would all join Austria. The former would, therefore, be completely isolated, yet she would have allies if she knew how to win and to treat them, namely the German people,” he said: “That’s pure nonsense. Directly contrary to history. Why, you should have known that.... But, no, I misunderstood the sentence. I read it wrongly in my hurry. The ‘former’ and ‘she’ referred to Prussia. There I have done little Busch (Büschchen) an injustice.... But further on, here (the passage on 398) where I say that the people could have done nothing against a reactionary policy during the period of conflict. That is unfounded. I cannot say that. It should have been ‘would have done nothing.’ No doubt they would have desired to do it. Well, on page 401, that is again an oversight on my part. Here I overlooked the first ‘not.’” (He referred to the passage: “The expression ‘drive them to the wall’ has not only not been used by me in this connection, but was never used by me at all.”) “But all this about Bennigsen is quite wrong—the second part of it. There you have written in his interest. If that were a correct account I should have told a lie. My main object in the article was to explain that point, and you ought to have known from the Norddeutsche how the matter really stood. You should know that the article in that paper was written at my instance. But I suppose you do not read the official journals. No further negotiations took place with him after the interview at Varzin, that is with Bennigsen respecting the ministerial post, although I did not break with him otherwise. It is true that my son wrote to him once more, but I knew nothing of this. And Eulenburg did not decide to remain. He had had enough of it. He went to the King, however, told him of my negotiations with Bennigsen, and incited him against me. I had been in treaty with these Liberals behind his back, &c. The King did not inform me that Eulenburg did not wish to retire, but wrote me an exceedingly rude and snappish letter somewhat to this effect: How dare I enter into negotiations with this rabid Radical, this arch-demagogue, and expressly forbade me to treat with him any further. That did not take place ‘several months,’ but only three or four days after the Varzin interview. The statement that Lasker reckoned on obtaining a portfolio is correct. On the other hand it is quite incorrect to say that out of politeness I abstained from telling Bennigsen that I did not think of him any more, as the post was no longer open. It was still open, as you might have seen in any calendar. Surely you know that Friedenthal only held it provisionally. The truth is I could not explain to Bennigsen that his Most Gracious had forbidden me to negotiate with him any further.”

While speaking thus the Chancellor underlined the passage referred to, page 400, lines 19 to 28, in so far as he had corrected them, adding notes of exclamation and remarks such as “No,” and “three days.” I expressed my regret at the harm that had been done and observed that it could be put right in the next number of the Grenzboten. He agreed to this and wished to see the correction before it appeared. I promised to submit it to him. Finding in the course of his examination, that the misfortune did not extend to more than some five lines in an article of nine pages, his excitement gradually subsided. Indeed, the “Büschchen” at the beginning had already sounded less severe, and at the close he said “I must have a breath of fresh air before dinner. Come along!”

We strolled up and down in the park for about an hour longer, and spoke of other matters. I congratulated the Prince on the success with which he had repelled the attacks of his opponents in the Reichstag three or four days previously. “Yes, successfully,” he rejoined. “That’s very fine, but what good has it done? They have, all the same, refused the 80,000 marks for an adviser on political economy; and the Government has now no means of keeping itself informed.” I remarked that they had obviously been influenced by their own ignorance of practical affairs, and particularly with industrial matters, as well as by jealousy and fear. Bamberger’s assertion that they knew enough themselves was no proof of the contrary. They wished to appear before the public as the only infallible wiseacres, and also being doctrinarians, they could afford to ignore economic facts.

We then spoke about Windthorst, of whom the Chief said: “His vote against the Government has destroyed the slight degree of confidence I was beginning to feel in him.” The conversation then turned upon Bennigsen’s Parliamentary activity, and I remarked on the striking circumstance that up to the present he had taken no part in any of the debates. The Prince rejoined: “It is very sensible on his part to keep silent, although he is a good speaker. He sent the others to the front—Benda, and he also voted against it—a further proof that he and his party are quite untrustworthy. He has no decided views, he is not frank, and he is afraid of Lasker. With him it is always vacillation and half measures. Do you play cards?” I replied in the negative. “But you know the cards?” “Yes.” “Now, at whist he always keeps three aces in his hand, and gives no indication that he holds them. He can no longer be counted upon, and besides his followers have been greatly reduced owing to their vague and vacillating policy. Nevertheless, he still sits there with the same high opinion of himself and the same dignified air as formerly when he commanded hundreds; and he will continue to do so even if they should be reduced to thirteen, like George Vincke’s Old Liberals. There is nothing to be done with the others either. It has now come to pass, through the absurdities of the Liberals, that the tag, rag and bobtail, the Guelphs, Poles, and Alsacians, the Social Democrats, and the People’s Party, turn the scale, putting those they support in the majority. Mittnacht, who was with me before you came, is of the same opinion. In future we shall have to count upon the Governments rather than upon the Reichstag, and, indeed, we may ultimately have to reckon upon the Governments alone.”

I said that the whole Parliamentary system would in time lose all credit, even with the public, through such senseless attacks and votes. It brought everything to a standstill, but was itself unable to produce anything better. “The effect of the recent debates,” I went on, “is already here and there observable. This morning I met Thile, who stopped me and asked what I thought of the Parliamentary struggle. He was immensely pleased with the attitude you had adopted. A friend of his, whom he did not wish to name, but who was an admirer of the new era, though up to the present by no means favourable to you, had said that the manner in which you spoke and repelled the attacks of the Opposition was simply magnificent, and excited universal admiration. And women speak with disgust of the way in which you were hounded down and personally insulted by the Progressists and Lasker. A Hanoverian lady, of Guelph sympathies, spoke to my wife yesterday in this sense. This disgust and this pity for you will gradually affect the men, and help to bring about a change in the present tendency. I myself feel no pity, I only foresee your triumph. Pray excuse me for comparing you to an animal, but you remind me of the picture of a noble stag, which time after time shakes off the snarling pack, and then, proud and unhurt, regains the shelter of his forest, crowned by his branching antlers.” “Yes,” he said, “one might take another animal, the wild boar, which gores the hounds and tosses them away from him.”

He was silent for a time, and as we walked up and down he hummed the tune “Wir hatten gebauet ein stattliches Haus.” He then remarked suddenly: “But if they go on in that style they will ultimately meet the fate to which I alluded—the Luck of Edenhall. You know Uhland’s poem? It will be a case of Bang! and snap goes the German Constitution! You spoke of Thile. Do you mean the former Secretary of State?” I said “Yes, I meet him sometimes as he lives in my neighbourhood.” “He is a dangerous man,” he observed. “He was quite incapable. He could do nothing, and wrote nothing, because he was afraid it would be corrected; and yet I kept him for ten years, although he conspired against me with Savigny. He is to blame for the Diest libels, which led to the prosecution. I heard the whole story and how it began from Rothschild. Savigny went to him about the promotion of the company in question, and asked him if he could not let him have a share in it. Rothschild said no, he had already been obliged to part with a large share, a million and a half—meaning to his branches, the houses with which he is associated. Savigny, however, thought he was alluding to me, and would appear to have hinted something of the kind, but Rothschild seems either not to have understood him, or not to have answered with sufficient clearness. Savigny then carried the tale further, telling it first to Thile, who mentioned it to his brother, the general, instead of speaking to me, his chief, and in this way Diest ultimately came to hear of it. But, as Minister, I have never done any business with Rothschild, and even as envoy at Frankfurt very little. I drew my salary through him, and on one occasion I exchanged some stock for Austrian securities. I have not found it necessary. My profession as Minister has brought me in something, and through the grants and the gift of the Lauenburg estates I have become a rich man. It is true that if I had gone into a business, or carried on a trade, and devoted to it the same amount of labour and intelligence, I should doubtless have made more money.”

We then returned once more to the recent debates in the Reichstag, and I again expressed in strong terms the contempt I felt for the Opposition. “You were always a gentleman pitted against vain and vulgar creatures,” I said, “and in saying that I am not thinking of your rank as a Prince.” “No, I understand—a gentleman in my way of thinking,” he rejoined. “Lasker’s Jewish forwardness and presumption,” I continued, “the Professors with their priggish airs of superiority, and their empty pathos; Hänel, the self-complacent and pathetic doctrinaire—it is impossible to imagine anything more repulsive. He wanted to be Minister of Justice in ‘sea-surrounded Schleswig-Holstein.’” “Yes,” said the Chancellor, interrupting me, “they had divided the parts among themselves before the piece had been secured, and they probably have done the same thing now. Nothing came of it, however, after the interview which our Most Gracious had with me upstairs in the yellow chamber, where he remained with me from 9 o’clock until near midnight.” “And where he heard the simile of the chickens in Low German,” I added. “And then that impudent, lying, clown Richter, and the whole tearing, snarling, sprawling pack face to face with simple, solid, positive greatness. It was as if you belonged to an entirely different species.” “Yes,” he said, “when I lie down in bed after such debates, I feel ashamed of ever having bandied words with them. You know the way one feels after a night’s drinking, if one has had a row and perhaps come to blows with vulgar people—when one begins to realise it next morning, one wonders how and why it all came about.” Then after I had promised to make the corrections immediately and send them to him, he took leave of me with the words “Good evening, Busch. Auf Wiedersehen.” Busch! Not “Herr Doctor” as usual.

In two hours I sent him the corrections, which I received back through a Chancery attendant before 10 P.M. There were only a few alterations in the second half.

On the 2nd of January, 1882, I again visited Bucher. He complained in general of the incapable entourage of the Prince, including his sons, and of Rudolf Lindau, whom they favoured because he gave card parties and made himself useful to them in other ways. (...) He was a mere tradesman without education or political knowledge. The Prince wished to make things comfortable for himself, and no blame to him, but he was mistaken if he thought the machine would still go on working as it ought to. In that respect the choice of the personnel was of importance, and those who were now engaged, particularly in the press department, were almost constantly blundering. The stuff which Paul Lindau wrote for the Kölnische Zeitung was also of little value.

We then spoke about the negotiations with the Curia, which were making satisfactory progress; of Held’s contribution to the social history of England; of Taine’s account of the Jacobins, in whom Bucher discovered some characteristics of the Progressist party; of Stirum, who had also left because he was not disposed to put up with the intrigues of the clique that surrounded the Prince, and who had told him, Bucher, that he “preferred in future to admire the Chancellor at a distance”; and of the Chief’s recent criticism of my article. I said that the Chief must be mistaken in asserting that after the visit to Varzin he had had no further negotiations with Bennigsen respecting his joining the Ministry, as he had himself told me that at that time Herbert had written to Bennigsen, which he would scarcely have ventured to do without his father’s knowledge. Bucher agreed with me, and added that some one had expressed the opinion that Bennigsen had acted like a gentleman with regard to the statements published by the semi-official press. Bucher arranged to send me Taine’s book when he had finished reading it, in order that I might write an article upon it. He is extracting passages which point to the similarity between the Jacobins and the Progressist party.

On the evening of the 8th of January, Count William Bismarck sent me an article for the Grenzboten on “Agricultural Credit in Prussia.”[3]

On Monday, the 16th of January, I took back the third volume of Taine’s History of the Revolution, La Conquête des Jacobins, to Bucher. He told me that according to a conversation with the Chief, a campaign would presently be opened in the press in order to clear up some points respecting Stockmar and Bunsen. He was to write a pamphlet on the latter in which various documents, of which only portions were given in Frau von Bunsen’s book, would be published in extenso. I could then make myself useful by utilising this information, in addition to which he would give me further material. We then spoke of the Coburg clique, of Abeken, who had been described on one occasion by Bunsen as the “magnificent Abeken,” of Max Müller of Oxford, with whom he had spent some pleasant hours, of Geffcken, and finally of Hepke. On my asking how it was that the latter had fallen into disfavour with the Prince, Bucher said that in 1862, shortly after the Chief had come into office, Hepke, who had charge of the German reports, reproduced, almost literally, in a brochure which he published under the title of “A Word from a Prussian,” a memorandum which Bismarck had submitted to the King. Although this pamphlet was anonymous, the Chief came to hear of it, and forbade Metzler to mention it in our papers. Then, again, shortly before the war of 1866, Hepke, “through vanity, in order to show how well informed he was,” communicated some scheme that was in hand against Austria to the Austrian Envoy, probably at dinner, and this came to the knowledge of the Chief later on, after our reconciliation with Austria, most likely through Rechberg.

I then turned the conversation on Thile, mentioning what the Prince recently said to me. Bucher still maintained that Thile is a gentleman and very good-hearted, and questioned whether he were as incapable as Bismarck had described him to me.

On the 26th of January, Bucher sent me the first and third volumes of Nippold’s edition of Bunsen’s biography, the proof sheets of a refutation by him of a letter from Prince Albert to Stockmar, explaining Bunsen’s “fall” (which was published first in the Münchener Nachrichten, and afterwards in the National Zeitung), and finally some rough notes for a Grenzboten article, which I prepared and published by the 2nd of February in No. 8, under the title “Bunsen’s Friends and the Truth.” Bucher’s refutation was to appear in the February number of the Deutsche Revue für das gesammte National-Leben der Gegenwart. In the rough notes he spoke as follows of Bunsen:—

On the 2nd of February I again called upon Bucher. He gave me various further particulars respecting the “great patriot and meritorious diplomatist,” Bunsen, and his sons. The old gentleman’s chief reason for tendering his resignation so hastily was that when about to take his holiday after the catastrophe, he was not paid his full salary as an envoy for six months, as he had demanded, but only for six weeks, as provided by the regulations. Theodore, whom Bunsen described to Thile as the most gifted of his sons, had made himself impossible at Lima, by his tactlessness in holding intercourse with the Opposition party, and using his influence on their behalf. He afterwards held the post of envoy at Stockholm, which he resigned when the Government refused him leave to marry a very wealthy German-Russian lady from the Baltic Provinces. He now enjoys possession of this lady. Another son has a fat benefice in England. “Frau Schwabe,” the “Elpi’s Melena” of the newspapers, who is frequently mentioned in the Nippold edition of the biography, is an enormously rich German Jewess, widow of a manufacturer, and a friend, not only of Bunsen, but also of Garibaldi, to whom she sent, after he was wounded at Aspromonte, an artistic armchair in “letter form,” that is to say, pasted all over with postage stamps. Bucher expects that George von Bunsen will reply to our articles. He, Bucher, will then write an answer from further official documents, for publication in the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung.

On the 17th of February I left a proof of my Grenzboten article on Bunsen at the Imperial Chancellor’s palace for submission to the Prince. It was in an envelope and signed “Moritz Busch,” but was accompanied by no letter. I ascertained at the same time from the porter that the Chancellor had not been quite well for some time past. On my way back through the Leipzigerstrasse I met Bucher, who was delighted with “the fine goings-on in England now.” I asked what he meant, and he replied: “Why, the Standing Orders in Parliament, the Closure. Our people may well ask themselves whether they are equally pleased with this new feature in their ideal.”

The extracts from Taine, properly grouped and spiced with references to the German connections of the Jacobins, namely the Progressists, appeared in Nos. 7 and 9 of the Grenzboten under the title “The True Story of the Jacobins.” I also wrote an article on Gladstone’s measure referred to by Bucher. This was published in No. 10 of the Grenzboten under the title, “Gladstone, and Liberty of Speech in Parliament.”

On the 10th of March I received the news of the death of our son John, from Captain Alm of the Dora Ahrens at Falmouth. He had died at sea on the 19th of December last, on the return voyage from Corinto, in Nicaragua. Falling overboard during a violent storm in the vicinity of the Falkland Islands, he was unable to hold on to the rope which was thrown to him, and was swallowed up in the waves. With him, our only son, disappeared my best love, my energy and pleasure in work, my pride and my hope. Henceforth my life is overshadowed by this grief. He was only thirty-one years of age, had lived the hard life of the sailor, and passed two severe examinations, so that we had reason to hope that we should soon see him the captain of a handsome craft. Now he lies at the bottom of a distant sea, and all that remains of him is the memory of his dear face and his brave, high-minded nature. Fearless, truthful, and devoted to his duty, he died as he had lived in the service of his ship, as the soldier dies for his flag, his king and his country. He was a man, a character, and death has no power over such! God has further use of them. But we shall never see him again with mortal eyes, and can only wreathe his portrait with laurels and forget-me-nots on his birthday, the 13th of April.

All our friends manifested the greatest sympathy for us, in which the Imperial Chancellor also did not fail to join. He wrote me on the 16th of March:—

With this these notes may be concluded. Evening has set in.

The sense of duty as a chronicler awoke again before the pain of our loss had subsided. I again felt an interest in other things besides the portrait of our dear departed son, and so returned to my diary. The lines dedicated to his memory shall remain, however, as a monument to him, and a reminiscence of days full of sorrow, and weeks of deep prostration and melancholy.

On the morning of the 29th of March I called upon Bucher. He declared that the anti-German party in Russia was growing dangerous, and though the Emperor appeared to be our sincere well-wisher, he would perhaps be unable to withstand it. It was true that he had spoken very sharply to Skobeleff who told Schweinitz, as he was returning with him from Gatshina, that the Emperor had severely reprimanded him (il m’a donné un savon). The General actually looked depressed. A Russian diplomatist (Nesselrode, if I understood rightly) once said of Holstein when the latter was with Bismarck in Petersburg years ago: “Ce jeune homme sait une foule de choses, mais il n’est pas capable d’en faire une seule.”

Pope Leo has shown great readiness to meet us half way in personal questions. Among other things, he had originally desired to appoint to the bishopric of Osnabrück a former Jesuit and pupil of the Collegium Germanicum, who had been recommended to him by Tarnassi. But when our Government pointed out that the candidate referred to had taken part in various forms of anti-German agitation, the Pope unhesitatingly dropped him.

On the 12th of May I met Thile in the Linkstrasse, and accompanied him part of the way to his house. He expressed his regret at our loss and his pleasure that the Chief had likewise done so. The conversation then turned on Hatzfeldt, and he said that Bismarck had always favoured him, “pitying him for having such a mother,” which, after all, was very nice on his part. He had also dispensed with the diplomatic examination in his case. Besides Hatzfeldt had talent and was good-hearted in addition. As evidence of the latter he mentioned that he frequently visited Goltz, who was suffering from cancer of the tongue, although it was scarcely possible to stand the atmosphere of the sick room. He, Thile, had also repeatedly visited the sufferer. Bismarck, on the other hand, had never gone to see him, although they had been on very friendly terms formerly. “It was enough to turn one’s stomach,” he said. It was true that subsequently, just before Goltz had moved, the Chief called at the old lodgings, and then gave as an excuse: “I was at his place but he had left.” Thile then added the following characteristic anecdote: “Of course you too are an old student of Goethe, and remember the poem ‘Füllest wieder Busch and Thal, still mit Nebelglanz.’ This was being recited on one occasion, and when the reader came to the passage—

(Blessed is he who retires, without hatred, from the world, and enjoys his retreat in communion with a single friend.) Bismarck exclaimed: ‘What! Without hatred? What a tailor’s soul he must have!’” In reply to my inquiry whether this story was absolutely authentic, he mentioned Keudell as his authority.

At 6 P.M. on the 8th of June, three days after the Chancellor’s return from Friedrichsruh, I left a note for him at the palace in the Wilhelmstrasse, requesting him if he had anything for me to do to name a day and hour on which I should call for the necessary information. At 8.30 P.M. I had a letter from Sachse stating that the Prince “wished to speak to me for a few moments,” and requested me to call upon him next day at 12.30 P.M. I called at the time appointed, and after waiting for about half an hour, while the Chief was dictating to one of his deciphering clerks who wrote shorthand, I was admitted to see him, and the “few minutes” extended to a full hour. The Prince was in plain clothes, with the exception of military trousers. He had grown thinner, so that his coat hung in folds over his shoulders. Otherwise, however, he looked well, and was evidently in good humour. He greeted me with a shake hands and “Good day, Büschlein.” Then, inviting me to sit down, he said: “You want fodder, but I have none. There is nothing going on either in domestic or foreign affairs. You recollect that little bit of a Herzegovina, and now we have that little bit of an Egypt. It is not of much concern to us, although it certainly is to the English and also to the French. They set about the affair in an awkward way, and have got on a wrong track by sending their ironclads to Alexandria, and now, finding that there is nothing to be done they want the rest of Europe to help them out of their difficulty by means of a conference. Nothing can be done with the fleet without a landing force, and this is not at hand, so that it will be merely a repetition of the demonstration before Dulcigno. In that case it was the rocks, here it is the European warehouses, otherwise they would in all probability have already bombarded the place. It is also a question whether they would not have come off second best, as the Egyptians have very heavy guns, and their artillery is not bad. But so far as a conference is concerned, it is like an inquiry round a board of green cloth, the interests of the Powers are not the same, and therefore it will not be easy to come to any practical conclusion. The Sultan too will not co-operate. He is not without justification in declining to do so. If he can put things right by writing letters and sending plenipotentiaries—which we shall know one of these days—the Western Powers will have reason to be thankful. If not there will be no alternative left but for the Padishah to send his Nizams to restore order there. That is due to the absurd policy which Professor Gladstone has pursued from the beginning. He tries to come to an understanding with France and Russia, forgetting the fact that their interests in the Levant are quite different to those of the English. He surrendered all the valuable results which English policy had tried to secure during the past eighty years in its dealings with the Porte and with Austria, and thought he could work miracles when he had offended them both. And in France they have also taken a wrong course out of consideration for public opinion. Egypt is of the utmost importance to England on account of the Suez Canal, the shortest line of communication between the eastern and western halves of the Empire. That is like the spinal cord which connects the backbone with the brain. Any increase of Turkish power does not affect England injuriously in this, or indeed in any other respect. France thinks more of the prestige to be gained by the Porte if it exercises a mediating and controlling influence in the Egyptian question, and fears that her own prestige in Africa might suffer. Nevertheless, France has also very important material interests there, since there are 14,000 Frenchmen in Egypt and only 3,000 English. It was in vain for me to point out to them that an Arabian Empire, such as Arabi may have in view, would be far more dangerous to their position in Africa than any strengthening of Turkish influence on the Nile. The Porte is an old European landowner who is deeply in debt, and who can always be reached and subjected to pressure if he becomes too exacting. It is impossible to foresee what effect an independent Egypt would have upon the French position in Africa. That is doubtless recognised by Freycinet, but he is afraid of the traditions, prejudices and vanity of the French, and of Gambetta, who manipulates them. It is true the division in the Chamber turned out favourably, indeed very much so, but even assuming that Gambetta cannot return to power shortly, the wind may soon blow from another quarter, and the understanding with England come to an end. A campaign in co-operation with the French, a military occupation, would be a hazardous undertaking for the English, as the French could always send more men than they, who require their soldiers in Ireland, and who have altogether none too many. If France had the larger force there she would of course exercise more influence and play the leading part, and it would perhaps be difficult to get her out of the country again. The rest of us would not co-operate in a military sense, as for the present the question is one of comparative indifference to us, and it is no business of ours to pull the chestnuts out of the fire for other people, particularly for the English. So there they are, with their ships, in a blind alley, and now they want a conference to put the matter right. Here also we are expected to come to their assistance, and bring pressure to bear on the Porte, thus embroiling ourselves with the Sultan—a suggestion which, of course, we must politely decline.”

“Much in the same way,” I said, “as the English before the last Russo-Turkish conflict wished you to forbid the Russians entering upon hostilities, merely because that did not suit England’s policy, and when Queen Victoria wrote to you and the Emperor to that effect.” “Yes,” he rejoined, “and it was the same before the Crimean war, when Bunsen pleaded their cause. They must manage to get out of the difficulties into which they have plunged by themselves—having made their bed they must lie on it.”

The dog, which had been standing behind me and occasionally made his presence known by snarling, now began to bark. “He notices that there is a stranger outside,” said the Prince, who rang the bell and ordered the attendant to keep the dog in the outer room. He then continued: “In home affairs there is also nothing of importance that you are not weary of. They will reject the tobacco monopoly. There is no other course open to them now.” “But, Serene Highness,” I said, “you will submit it to them again, and carry it through in three or four years’ time?” “That depends upon circumstances,” he replied, “upon the future elections. I have no intention of pressing the tobacco monopoly out of a mere liking for this particular method of fiscal reform. The monopoly is an evil, but it is still the best of all available means of reform.... I first want to get from them my certificate that I have done everything in my power to do away with an unfair form of taxation, but that they would not hear of it. Then they may settle the matter with their electors and justify their conduct, should it perhaps result in an increase of the class tax (a form of direct taxation), while other burdens cannot possibly be reduced.”

“Then one might as well emigrate,” I said.

“Certainly,” he rejoined. “The class tax, which at present is retained only in this country, is one of the chief causes of emigration. If you only knew for how many evictions it is responsible among the poorer and indeed even among the middle classes! It is like the Russian poll tax, and does not permit of any equitable distribution of the burden in accordance with the condition of those who have to bear it, while indirect taxation distributes itself automatically. My object was to provide a remedy for this and to lighten the burden of the poorer citizens. That ought also to have been the object of the Diet. But you have seen from the discussion on the Appropriation Bill how little disposed they are to do so; and Lingen’s motion, which was adopted by the Commission, will not even admit the necessity of a reserve.”

I observed: “The emphasis laid upon economy in his motion is quite after the manner of the pedagogue, and of the narrow-minded Philistine. It does not sound as if it came from the Parliament of a great empire, but rather as if the vestry of Little Peddlington were casting the light of its wisdom upon the subject. This petty huckstering spirit is characteristic of all Liberalism. The majority of them are ‘snobs’ with a sprinkling of ‘swells.’”[5]

“That is true,” he said. “They certainly have not much amplitude or breadth of view, and they are bent on obstinate resistance to the Emperor’s message, in which a far higher standpoint is adopted. But that is their nature. They only think of their joint stock companies, i.e., their Parliamentary parties, and whether their shares will rise or fall if this or that is done or left undone. They trouble their heads very little with anything beyond that. Besides they hope that the old Emperor will soon die and that his successor will give them a free hand. The Emperor, however, does not at all look as if he were going to oblige them. He may live for a long time yet and indeed reach a hundred. You should see how robust he is now, and how straight he holds himself! From what—(I understood, Lauer) says, the Nobiling phlebotomy has been of benefit to him, both physically and mentally, the old blood has been drawn off, and he looks much less flabby than formerly. We are now on good terms, better than we have been for years.” “And the Successor will have to follow the same course,” I said. “He cannot govern differently without doing mischief.” “Oh, yes,” he rejoined. “He also would like to retain me, but he is too indolent, too much devoted to his own comfort and thinks it would be easier to govern with majorities. I said to him: ‘Try it, but I will not join in the experiment!’ Perhaps they are out in their reckoning however, and a long-lived sovereign may be followed by a short-lived one. It seems to me as if this might be the case. He who would then ascend the throne is quite different. He wishes to take the government into his own hands; he is energetic and determined, not at all disposed to put up with Parliamentary co-regents, a regular guardsman!—Philopater and Antipater at Potsdam! He is not at all pleased at his father taking up with Professors, with Mommsen, Virchow and Forckenbeck. Perhaps he may one day develop into the rocher de bronze of which we stand in need.”

He then came to speak of his other schemes of reform, and observed: “The so-called Socialistic Bills are in a tolerably fair way. They will force themselves through, and develop further, even without me. The most pressing and necessary measures will in the main be soon carried. But it is unsatisfactory that they should want to bring the funds for the relief of the sick into too close connection with the insurance scheme. In this case it is not advisable that the payments in kind should be transformed into money payments.” He then gave a technical explanation, the details of which I was unable to understand, and was therefore unable to remember fully. I said: “But it is intended to drop the State subsidy, through which you hoped to reconcile the labouring classes, by getting them to recognise that the State not only makes demands upon them, but also comes to their assistance, procuring relief for them in case of need, and providing for their future as far as possible.”

“No, not dropped,” he replied, “but it is not immediately necessary in the new form which the Bill has taken. In about five or ten years it will be seen how far the contributions go, and in fifteen years’ time it may be asked whether, and to what extent, the State should contribute. It is sufficient for the present that all sums falling due are immediately paid, the State guaranteeing the amount.”

He again explained this in detail, and then said: “I am tired and ill, and should prefer to go, once I got my release from the Reichstag, but I do not like to leave the old Emperor alone. When he lay on his back after the outrage, I vowed to myself that I would not. Otherwise, I would rather be in the country at Friedrichsruh. I always felt better there; while here I get excited and angry, and become so weak that I can scarcely work for a couple of hours without losing hold of my ideas. How beautiful and fresh it was there in the country. I enjoyed every day, driving out and seeing how fine the rye looked, and how healthy the potatoes!”

This led him on to speak of the hope which he had of a good harvest, and that again to the price of corn in Germany and England. In this connection he observed, inter alia: “The opinion that low prices for corn mean happiness, welfare and content is a superstition. In that case the inhabitants of Lithuania and Rumania ought to be the most prosperous of all, while prosperity should decrease in proportion as you come west towards Aix la Chapelle. In England, the price of corn is now lower than here, and yet discontent prevails among the poorer classes, Radicalism is spreading, a revolution is approaching, and that democratic republic for which Gladstone and his friends and associates, Chamberlain and Dilke, have helped to pave the way, will come. It is just the same in Spain and Italy, where the dynasties, it is true, will offer resistance, but probably to no purpose. In France it remains to be seen whether the Republic will maintain itself, and if it does a condition of things will arise similar to that in America, where respectable people consider it disgraceful to have anything to do with practical politics, or to become a Senator, Congress man, or Minister.”

On my rising he walked about the room for a while, continuing to speak, but sat down again soon as if he felt tired. He mentioned Herbert, who is still in London, and from this I turned the conversation on to Hatzfeldt, remarking that his appointment as Secretary of State had not yet taken place. He rejoined: “That is due solely to the fact that he himself has not yet declared in favour of remaining. He has still to complete his arrangements, and settle with his brother about a mortgage. Moreover, I cannot blame him if he prefers to draw—(I did not catch the amount) in Constantinople, where things are cheaper, than 15,000 thalers here. He has a fortune of about 100,000 thalers. I wanted more for him, 60,000 marks, but the Federal Council rejected the proposal, as they could not give the Secretary of State more than the Imperial Chancellor, who receives only 54,000, but who has become wealthy thanks to public grants. You cannot expect everybody to be prepared to make sacrifices. Every one is not disposed to lead a simple life, cutting his coat according to his cloth, and to forego great entertainments and other expensive habits; and then it is a case of five into four won’t go, so I borrow one. He must, however, decide between this and July. Otherwise we shall have to ask Dr. Busch.”

“No, thank you,” I replied. He said: “There are two doctors of that name, and I mean the other, not Büschlein. But Busch has as poor health as Hatzfeldt, who is effeminate to boot, wraps himself up like a Frenchman, and goes to bed when he has a headache or cold, so that I have already been obliged to do their work instead of their taking over mine.”

From these invalids he passed on to the Empress. “She lives on and is again in good health, but a great deal of my illness comes from her intrigues. Schleinitz is also on his legs again, although he was very ill. Doubtless he thinks: ‘Perhaps there may be some more Jewish pourboires, so I must keep alive!’”

I asked if he would speak in the debate in the Reichstag on the monopoly. “Yes,” he said, “if my health permits it. Not for the purpose of convincing them, but to bear witness before the country, and then to demand my release.” I inquired whether he intended to go to Kissingen again this summer. “No,” he replied. “Although the waters have usually been very beneficial, they did me no good the last time. For nearly four months afterwards I was tormented with hæmorrhoids that were fearfully painful, burning like hell fire.” He then added a description of the symptoms.

Before leaving I also asked: “How do you like the Chevalier Poschinger,[6] Serene Highness? There is a great deal of interesting matter in the collection, but it seems to me that he might have made a better choice. But I suppose all the documents did not come into his hands?” He replied: “That, too, had something to do with it. But there is a great deal that has not got into the archives, such as my letters to the late King, which were retained by Gerlach and which his heirs will not easily part with. But even as it is, the book is very instructive, as it contains a great deal which was not known so accurately before; and it is perhaps well that those letters and other things should remain unpublished for the present.”

He had in the meantime shaken hands several times by way of taking leave of me, but each time started some new subject which caused me to remain. He now reached me his hand for the last time, and thanking him for giving me the pleasure of seeing him after such a long interval I took my leave. As usual after such interviews, I went straight home in order to write down what I had heard without delay, before anything else should chance to blur the impression.

On the 15th of July I again visited Bucher. He complained once more of the indifferent way in which business was done at the Foreign Office and in the Imperial Chancellerie. Herbert sent his father, Holstein or Rantzau private reports of what he picked up in London society, the clubs, &c.—mostly gossip—which was then forwarded to the Emperor and occasionally made use of in the press. The correct thing for him to do would be to communicate what he had heard to his Chief, the Ambassador, who could then forward it separately, or include it in his own despatches. Herbert reported recently that after the murder of Cavendish and Burke, Gladstone, when sitting in his place in Parliament, covered his face with his hands in order to show the depth of his affliction, although the event was in every way opportune for him. That evening, however, he was.... Rantzau then came to him, Bucher, to say that the Chief would like to see that mentioned in one of the papers, but not in the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung, and to ask whether he, Bucher, would see to it. Bucher replied that his instructions were to write only for the Post and the Norddeutsche. He would, however, prepare it for the press and Rantzau could then give it to Lindau, who might get it into the Kölnische Zeitung, or into one of the Hamburg papers. After a while Rantzau returned and said that in Lindau’s opinion one of the phrases would be better if translated into the oratio obliqua. “But,” said Bucher, smiling, “it was a quotation, yet neither of them recognised it, although it was taken from Schiller. I said to him they could do what they liked with it, and since then they have not pestered me with such matters.” Bucher confirmed what the Chancellor had told me respecting Prince William’s attitude and way of thinking in political matters. He added that the Prince had told some of his acquaintances how much he disapproved of his mother reading the Volkszeitung, and identifying herself with the views of the Progressist party. Bucher then mentioned that a member of the Crown Prince’s entourage had informed him that one of the leaders of the National Liberals had recently stated that they were not so very much opposed to the tobacco monopoly, but wished to “keep their consent to it as a gift for the next emperor.” He added “I was about to write that to the Chancellor, whom I now rarely see; but I saw from his speech on the monopoly that he had already been informed of it.” In Bucher’s opinion the most important feature in the Egyptian question is “that we may expect it to lead to a breach between France and England.... Our relations with Austria are excellent. What he was not able to tell you at the time is a fact. We have a formal alliance with the Austrians, and the Chief has also done something more, so that we are quite safe from war for several years to come.”

With regard to Hatzfeldt, Bucher said: “He wants to have the Secretaryship of State offered to him so that he may make his acceptance conditional upon exorbitant terms for himself. But the Chief, in order to avoid placing himself under any obligations, means to leave it to the Emperor to settle matters with him.”

We finally spoke about Eckart, whom it was intended at first to employ in the Literary Bureau, but who has now a prospect of an appointment in the Ministry of the Interior. Bucher thinks the affair is a demonstration of the Chief’s against the Russians, who “always fancied until now that we must run to answer the bell whenever they ring.” Eckart, by the way, no longer makes the extracts from the newspapers for the Foreign Office....

On the 19th of July, Bucher sent me an article from the Deutsches Tageblatt of the 16th of July, entitled “Hirsch-Bleichröder-Rothschild and Germany in Constantinople.” It disclosed the financial intrigues of this group of bankers, “choice members of the Chosen People,” who exploit Turkey under the pretence that they are protected by the German Government in the persons of its representatives. It energetically protests against this trio, and particularly against “Bleichröder, who knows how to take advantage of the credit which Germany enjoys at the Golden Horn in association with persons who only manifest their national sentiments and their patriotism when these can be turned to account for their own transactions.” Bucher wrote: “I send you this article for your Memorabilia. It will be frequently mentioned hereafter. Justizrath Primker of Berlin, is the agent of Bleichröder here referred to.”

On the 2nd of August I received a card from Bucher, in which he said: “I have to-day taken leave of absence, and at the same time tendered my resignation. I will tell you why at some future time. Auf Wiedersehen.”

I therefore called upon him (Bucher) on the 2nd of October, and at once inquired whether he decided to retire or to remain on. He replied that he would remain for the present. On the 1st of August he begged the Chief to obtain the Emperor’s consent to his retirement. In this letter the only motive which he gave was consideration for his health (growing nervousness), although, as I knew, he had other and stronger reasons. He then proceeded to Bormio, whither the Prince’s answer followed him. The Chief wrote that before regarding his request as final, he would like Bucher to come to Varzin to talk over the matter—he would doubtless also be pleased to see the place once more. He (Bucher) arranged to go there on his return from his holiday, and accordingly proceeded to Varzin on Tuesday last. There the Chancellor explained to him that he still required the services of his knowledge and ability, and although he could quite conceive that he was ailing and tired, he believed he could get over that difficulty by giving him as much holiday as he liked at all times, summer and winter. In future, also, he should be immediately under him. To this Bucher replied that he did not wish to retire altogether, but he had had a mind to take up some work of importance which he could have done at home in connection with documents in the Archives that had not yet been used. He believed he could do that work as well as the officials of the Archives (Poschinger and Sybel). That might also be done, the Chief said, but he must remain in the service; he was indispensable to him. Bucher then begged to be allowed two days to think the matter over, after the lapse of which time he acceded to the Prince’s wishes. He does not expect any good to come of the arrangement, however, as in his opinion there will be no change in the condition of affairs.

I then inquired how the Chief was getting on. Bucher replied: “Not very well. He suffers from faceache, which occurs constantly and is often very bad, but passes away again after a while. The doctor thinks it comes from a bad tooth, and has advised him to have it out or let the nerve be killed. But the Chief will not agree to this, as he does not believe in the doctor’s opinion. When this is not tormenting him he is still the same old amiable causeur, and he often has moments of inspiration too, when he speaks on political affairs with astounding far-sightedness. I shall hardly enjoy much more of it, however. During recent years I have seen him more seldom than yourself, sometimes not for two months at a time. But perhaps that may improve again later or indeed very soon. A few days ago when I was speaking to Rantzau about my resignation, he said that was surely not necessary. It was true that the Emperor might live to a great age, but he would probably not govern much longer and then it would be the turn of the Crown Prince, who had not altered since the conflict he had had with his father twenty years ago. (Freytag’s account of this conflict was handed over by me for publication to the Süddeutsche Zeitung in Frankfurt-on-the-Main somewhere about the summer of 1862. It made a great sensation at the time and caused no little anxiety.) He was a regular Progressist and already he made no secret of it.” While I was away he had accepted Ludwig Löwe’s invitation to inspect his revolver manufactory, and even deigned to take breakfast there. Recently, on entering a Court gathering at which Puttkamer and also three Progressists, including Mommsen and Virchow, were present he passed the Minister by and joined the Liberal trio, with whom he then conversed in a demonstrative fashion. It must be remembered that this took place at a time when an action was being brought against Mommsen for insulting the Chancellor. The Chief was quite aware of this and speaking of the future Emperor, he had said: “He will wish to retain me, but I shall lay down my conditions, which he will agree to, but he will not keep his promise.” Bucher continued as follows: “Then the Chief will resign and proceed to Varzin, which he even now does not wish to leave, and a sort of colony will be founded there in connection with which they doubtless have me also in view. It is then intended to write memoirs. Speaking to me about them in 1877, he said: ‘I have still a great deal to say to the world.’—The Progressists are aware of the Crown Prince’s views and they will then want to form a Ministry taken from their own ranks. Virchow has hinted as much in public speeches, adding that the entire policy of the country including foreign affairs would be different.—Bismarck was a gifted politician who represented a system of diplomacy which, except by himself, had long since been regarded as played out. That would lead to a pretty state of affairs, but would not last long. In the meantime, however, many blunders and an immense deal of harm might be done.”

I then asked what he thought of Bismarck’s religious sentiments, giving him my reasons for thinking that his wife had influenced him in this respect. He agreed with me and said that the views of the Moravian Brethren prevailed in her family. For the rest it was very difficult to form an opinion on those matters. He then observed that Bismarck also believed in ghosts. There is a castle in East Prussia which no one will inhabit as it is said to be haunted by the ghost of a lady who committed some crime. She is visible in broad daylight. On one occasion, when this story was told in Bismarck’s presence and some of the company spoke of it as folly, the Chief said there might very well be something in it, and that one ought not to laugh and jeer at such things, as he himself had had a similar experience.[7]

Bucher also considers such things possible. He said: “A very remarkable incident of that kind once occurred to myself. When I lived on the Lutzow Embankment—it was during the first years of my appointment when I had a great deal to do and was so tired in the evening that I used to fall asleep as soon as I lay down—one night I saw my mother stoop down over my bed and smile contentedly, as if she were pleased that I had now begun a regular life. I am quite certain that it was not a dream.”

Finally I told him I intended to leave Berlin and return to Leipzig, as I had too little opportunity of seeing and being of use to the Chief, and found little society for my wife and myself. I would remain until February, in order to take leave of the Prince in person, and then proposed to come to Berlin a couple of times every year to visit him. In the meantime, I would now and then take the liberty of requesting him (Bucher) to furnish me with advice, explanations and materials in political affairs, while, on the other hand, I also should be at his disposal, as before 1878, whenever he wished to secure the insertion of anything in the press. Should the Chancellor retire at any time I would write him immediately, that he might count upon my services. Bucher approved of these suggestions.

On the 2nd and 3rd of November Bucher sent me a number of newspaper extracts referring to Bleichröder and his relations with Hatzfeldt, and Augusta’s intrigues against Bismarck, with which the latter in a pencil note had associated the Jesuit, Father Beckx. Bucher intends to write me further on the subject.

On the morning of the 6th of November I called on Bucher at his lodgings, and reminded him of this promise. He gave me the following information. “Hatzfeldt intends to become Vice-Chancellor. For that reason he has had himself made Minister of State, a measure which was unwelcome to the Chief, and which was managed with difficulty owing to the opposition of his colleagues. Hatzfeldt has had that represented in the press as necessary, supporting the contention by precedent. Hohenlohe was once Vice-Chancellor. I will cut out some of the newspaper articles and send them to you. He had a démenti of the article on the Hatzfeldt-Schapira affair (reproduced by the Volkszeitung from the Süddeutsche Post) published in the Deutsches Tageblatt, which the Chief reads. This article was written by Viereck, a Social Democrat, while the démenti was probably by Holstein or Fuchs. Hatzfeldt is gradually disclosing his Catholic sympathies, using his influence, for example, with the Minister of Public Worship for the appointment of certain Catholic clergymen. Bleichröder, senior, applied to the Parisian Rothschild and the Discontogesellschaft to co-operate in his great Turkish railway and tobacco monopoly scheme, as his own funds were not sufficient; without success, however, as the latter did not wish to have any dealings with such a corpse as Turkey. He had also been to Busch, the Under-Secretary of State, and had hoped to obtain his support for the scheme, as in the Rumanian affair, which was a disgrace to us. The support was given in that case owing to the pressing appeals of the old Hohenzollern, Prince Charles’ father.”

On one occasion in the sixties Corvin (Wiersbycki)[8] had at Bucher’s instance written in an English newspaper against the Empress Augusta. The Chief had instructed Bucher to get this done, as such attacks influenced the Court, which was afraid of the press. Corvin then borrowed a hundred thalers from Bucher, and only paid him back twenty-five. “He probably forgot the remainder. But the article was very well done.” Finally Bucher mentioned that Lindau was now ill. The Prince’s son had formerly begged in writing not to let it be noticed that Lindau was incapable, and he had retained the letter. “Heyking has now for a considerable time past been looking after the press; but, while you and I managed that alone, he has taken on a Count Henckel as an assistant. The latter, who reads the newspapers for him, has again appointed one of the men in the office to act as amanuensis, and do ‘the scissors and paste.’ They are fond of their ease, these aristocratic gentlemen!”