The portion struck out appeared in the third sheet, (page 31, in the first volume of the work as afterwards printed, following the words “einmal zu Grunde gehen,”) and ran: “Then it will be Bang! and snap goes the German Constitution. There might be a repetition of Schwarzenberg’s saying, ‘This arrangement has not stood the test.’” The Prince has also corrected an oversight (Vol. I., p. 12, line 24), striking out the syllable “un,” where I had written “unmöglich” by mistake—evidence of the care with which he had read it through.

On the 18th of July, Count Bill returned more proofs which were accompanied with the following letter:—

The enclosure here referred to was dictated to Count Bill, and appears in the book Unser Reichskanzler, Vol. I., pp. 54 and 55.

On the 20th of July further proofs, up to the end of the first chapter, arrived from Friedrichsruh. These again included alterations that had been dictated to Count Bill by his father.

When the Prince shortly afterwards proceeded to Kissingen, Grunow continued to send him the proofs, as he had received no orders to the contrary. They were not returned, and the printers had therefore to stop work. I, however, received the following long letter from the Chancellor, which was written by an amanuensis on official foolscap, like a State document, the two sheets being tied together with silk thread in the Imperial colours.

In reply to this communication, I excused myself for having sent the proofs, through my ignorance of his absolute need of rest, and by recalling the fact that, in 1878, I had been permitted to send him such proofs to Kissingen and Gastein. The printing was then postponed for about eight weeks, until the beginning of October. On the 5th of that month I wrote to Friedrichsruh to ask whether it was now agreeable to him to receive me for the purpose of the interview which he had mentioned as desirable in his letter of the 3rd of August. On the 6th of October Count Herbert wrote that his father would be glad to see me as soon as he had read the proofs sent to him in the summer. Owing to his journey and the state of his health he had not been able to do so up to the present.

The work remained at a standstill for four weeks more. This was very disagreeable to Grunow, who repeatedly requested me to press the matter at Friedrichsruh. I declined to do so, as I could wait. He then wished to write to the Prince himself, describing his embarrassment. I tried to dissuade him, but as he nevertheless repeated the suggestion, I told him he might do so at his own risk, and also gave him a few ideas for his letter. Next day he told me that he had written. On the 9th of November I received the following letter from Friedrichsruh:—

I thereupon announced that I should arrive at Friedrichsruh on the 12th of November. I started on the 11th, and, travelling viâ Berlin, reached Friedrichsruh shortly after 12 o’clock on the following day. I was met at the station by a servant, who accompanied me to the Prince’s house and showed me to my room. Shortly afterwards I was called downstairs, where I had a friendly reception from the Chancellor and his wife. We then took lunch, Rantzau being also present, and immediately afterwards the Prince went with me into his study in order to discuss the matter that had brought me hither. He first gave expression to his indignation at Grunow’s letter, in which connection I also came in for my share. Among other things which he said was: “You have turned me into a bookseller’s hack; I am to be exploited like a Christmas speculation, and harnessed to his cart, the impudent fellow! He should have known nothing whatever of my assistance!” I explained to him that I had to inform Grunow owing to the possibility of a considerable delay in the return of my proofs, that I had previously mentioned this to him, the Chancellor, and that he had agreed, and that the same course had been adopted in the case of the first book. In his excitement he appeared to have overlooked what I had said, as he went on as follows: “That must remain between ourselves. I can trust you. You may write to me. But he! What right has a bookseller got to correspond with me, to warn and threaten me?” I tried in vain to appease him, endeavouring to show that the passage quoted by Rantzau when read in connection with the remainder of the letter was perhaps not a threat, but only a strong and not particularly felicitous expression of Grunow’s difficulty and embarrassment. The latter was a man of straightforward character, who knew how to keep his own counsel, and who was incapable of wishing to bring pressure of a threatening character to bear upon the Chancellor, for whom he entertained the highest regard. He then rang for Rantzau, and asked him to bring Grunow’s letter, which he handed to me to read. I could not see that it contained anything more than a cry of distress on the part of the publisher, who had promised the booksellers that a certain book would appear at a fixed date, and who feared he could not keep his word nor find any sufficient excuse to give them. I was as little affected by this embarrassment as I was by any loss which Grunow might suffer in case the book was not published at Christmas. I could have waited for a long time, and even if that were not the case it would never have occurred to me to press him. He said: “You acted in a perfectly proper way when the matter was postponed, and I had not expected anything different from you. But all the same that remains a threat on his part, and a piece of presumption, and I hesitated whether I should not decline to have anything further to do with the book, and afterwards publicly contradict erroneous passages in it. But then I thought of you, although I altogether object to having books written about me and to people trading with me and my affairs. Poschinger has done so, and sold my despatches and letters, forgetting even to send me any remuneration.” (Sometimes his humour does not desert him even in his anger.) “Besides, this new book is not so good as the preceding one. It does not contain much that is new, and what it does is false. You are not such a good observer as you were; you have grown older; and you want to divine and picture my inner man from fragmentary observations, which were mainly misconceptions. You draw conclusions from occasional utterances which you jotted down under the table-cloth. According to you I am always in deadly earnest, as if I were on oath, &c.”

I abstained from urging what could be said on the other side, and his excitement gradually subsided. Taking some of the proofs he sat down at his writing-table and invited me to take a place opposite, in order that I might note down his corrections and additions. He was rather impatient over it, said my hearing was not so good as formerly, and complained that I did not take down dictation as rapidly as his sons, and so on. On this occasion we went through the greater part of the third chapter, and he had very much less to object to and alter than I had apprehended from his letter of the 3rd of August. By far the greater part of these pages he turned over without any remarks. With respect to the others he made observations that had no reference to the book, as for instance: “Thadden, a narrow-minded fellow, who has no brains.” After about three-quarters of an hour he stood up and said: “I must now get some fresh air.” He strode up and down the room, however, for a while, as before, and began again to vent his anger at the presumption and threats of “this bookseller who wanted to harness me to his Christmas cart.” Ultimately, however, he quieted down, grew more friendly, and showed me over the apartments, including his bedroom. In one of the first of these was hung a portrait in oils of a Roman prelate of high rank. In reply to my inquiry he informed me that it was Cardinal Hohenlohe.

He then went out for a walk or drive, while I proceeded to my room and wrote out his observations and the corrections which he had dictated to me. This room, which contains pictures of Grant, Washington and Hamilton, looks out on the park. After 3 P.M. I paid a visit to the Head Forester, Lange, with whom I took a drive.

At a quarter-past six I was called to dinner. Among those present, in addition to the Prince and Princess, were the Rantzaus, Dr. Schweninger, of Munich, who was in attendance on the Chancellor, and Herr von Ohlen, another of the doctor’s patients. The Prince, as I now observed for the first time, suffered from a slight attack of jaundice. Schweninger (a man of lively temperament, with dark hair and beard, who seems to be very much at home here) diagnosed the Prince’s ailment as chronic catarrh of the stomach, and has been successful in his treatment. (...) While taking our coffee, which was served in the Princess’s room, the conversation was at first of little significance. It turned on Becker’s portrait of the Prince during the Frankfurt period, and on two groups of his male and female ancestors, who from their costumes would appear to have flourished in the time between the death of Luther and the Thirty Years’ War, and on the portrait of his sporting grandfather with the shot-gun, which was formerly in Berlin, but has now found a place here too. The conversation gradually grew more lively and interesting; and the Chancellor, who had remarked in the tête-à-tête with me at midday that he would henceforth be careful of what he said in my presence, had probably forgotten his intention. On my stating, among other things, that the war of 1870 appeared to have had an excellent effect upon the national feeling in Saxony, he added, “and still more so in Bavaria. I once said jestingly to Fabrice[10] that we should live to see order restored in Saxony one day by Bavarian troops.” Speaking of Court circles in Berlin, he complained: “Whenever I performed on the political tight-rope they hit me on the shins, and, if I had only fallen, how delighted they would have been! Particularly the eternal feminine (das ewig Weibliche).”

It was only after lunch on Tuesday, the 13th, and again before dinner, that the work with the Prince was resumed, when Chapter II., the remainder of Chapter III., and about half of Chapter IV. were weeded out, the weeds again proving much less abundant than I had anticipated. He maintained that in the second chapter I made him out to be a “hypocrite” in religious matters, an idea which he had no difficulty in entirely disproving, inasmuch as he justified his belief in God among other things by a reference to facts which could only be accounted for by the existence of a Deity.

In the second section he began to dictate to me an account of his attitude towards the Kulturkampf, which he broke off on our being called to dinner. Before that he again suddenly renewed his grumbling at Grunow, I, too, coming in for a small share. He was also displeased with my long full beard. “My wife asked me,” he said, “if you were older than I. ‘No,’ I said, ‘I thought you were four or five years younger.’ But she was right. It’s your beard. It should be cut shorter. As it is it makes you look fearfully ancient.”

On Wednesday, the 14th, the Chief set to work on the proofs with me after breakfast. At Chapter IV. he exclaimed: “Look here, you must have a thoroughly wicked heart. You are delighted every time you hear and can jot down a disagreeable remark about somebody.” I rejoined: “I cannot trust myself to give any opinion upon my own heart. But one thing I do know, it has always been devoted to you. I only hate your enemies.” He afterwards reflected for a moment, looked at the clock, and said: “I must now go out to receive Giers, who is coming from Berlin to discuss important matters with me. We shall introduce you and Schweninger to him as doctors of medicine, for if he ascertained that Dr. Busch belonged to another variety he would be afraid that he was being watched and that it would get into the newspapers. By the way, you have included him among the Jews in your diplomatic chapter, and that must be struck out. (I had referred to his name, Giers, as a russified form of Hirsch.) He may be a Jew, although he asserts that he is the son of a Finnish officer. But we must not write that, as he is well disposed, desires peace, and does what he can to secure it. He is quite indispensable to us.”

The Russian Minister arrived between 2 and 3 P.M. The Chancellor received him at the station, drove with him to the house, and then conferred with him until nearly 6 o’clock, when Giers dined with us, the company remaining together over their coffee until about 9 P.M. Giers is a man of medium height, and would seem to be well advanced in the fifties. He has somewhat of a stoop as he walks. His features are of a slightly Jewish cast, a characteristic which is also evident in his gestures and movements, there being something in the hands in particular which recalled our Semites. On this occasion he spoke only in French.

On Thursday, the 15th, I wrote in my diary: Giers went off again last night about 10 o’clock, and Schweninger and Ohlen left at noon to-day. I took lunch with the Prince’s family, Count William being also present. The Prince, who, by the way, now observes great moderation in diet and drinks only the lightest wines, read despatches, and gave Rantzau instructions for replying to them. The subjects were Bulgarian affairs, and the North Sea and Baltic Canal. I then retired to my room to work, and afterwards made an excursion to the Aumühl. As I was about to return I saw the Chief coming towards me in a carriage. When he recognised me he reached out both hands towards me from a distance, left the carriage, and walked back with me to the mill. (I therefore fancy that he cannot have been so very angry with me.) He described to me a pretty pathway through the woods on the other side of the streamlet, saying: “I know you are also a lover of lonely country walks.” Yesterday evening over our coffee, after Giers had left, he also said: “I always feel happiest in my top-boots, striding through the heart of the forest, where I hear nothing but the knocking and hammering of the woodpecker, far away from your civilisation.”

Again at work with the Chancellor from 4 o’clock onwards. He told me his wife had said: “The doctor may be very clever and amiable, but all the same you should be on your guard at table when he is present. He always sits there with his ears cocked, writes everything down, and then spreads it abroad.” She herself, however, in her simple way, forgot to keep on her guard to-day. While seated on her right at dinner my napkin accidentally dropped, and, lo and behold! her Serene Highness, the lady of the house, bent down for it before I could prevent her! I felt that I had been fearfully awkward.

On Friday, the 16th, the Chief dictated to me the conclusion of the long passage respecting his attitude towards the ecclesiastical struggle. He then gave me, for insertion in the fourth chapter, the following statement with regard to Bunsen:—“During the Crimean War, when he was Minister in London, he reported to Berlin that England offered us Schleswig-Holstein in return for our joining in the war against Russia, whilst he stated in London that Prussia would join if she received the Duchies. Both statements were false, and when the affair became known, he was dismissed. I had something to say in the matter. The King exclaimed: ‘Why, he has been my friend for twenty years, and now he acts in this way!’ Old General Rauch observed: ‘Yes, he has also lied and betrayed your Majesty for twenty years.’ ‘One cannot allow that to be said of a friend,’ rejoined the King.” He then proceeded to other matters, and on my asking whether there was any subject which I could deal with in the press, he at first replied in the negative, but then said: “Giers found the Emperor very frail, and perhaps he will not last much longer. Well, when he dies, I shall go too. He is a gallant old gentleman, who has always meant well, and whom I must not desert. But I will make no experiments with the Crown Prince. I am too old and weak for that. Things will not go on particularly well, and on the whole I am convinced that what we have built up since 1866 has no stability.” In the course of his further remarks he mentioned the Crown Princess, “a Liberal Englishwoman,” “a follower of Gladstone,” and maintained that she “has more influence upon her consort than is desirable.” He then spoke once more of his need of repose and a country life, referring to Berlin in very disparaging terms, and scarcely allowing it even to be a handsome city. He insisted that owing to the drainage there was already a bad smell in every house, and that in a short time, the place would become utterly intolerable. He said in conclusion: “I have always longed to get away from large cities and the stink of civilisation. Every time I return I feel that more and more, and I have earned my leisure.” I remarked that I could fully understand that feeling, and also his reluctance to serve the coming King, on account of his opinions; but surely he would not abandon a work which was so entirely his own, and retire altogether from the political stage. He would at least take his seat in the Upper Chamber and be elected to the Reichstag, where he could offer advice and admonition. He replied: “Yes, but not like the others in perpetual and uncompromising opposition.” I said, “Then please remember this little fellow when you want anything done in the press. I shall always be at your service.” “All right,” he replied, and reached me his hand. “You can then come to me and arrange my papers. (With a significant smile.) There is still a great deal of good stuff there.” I begged leave to remain the following day, as it was such a pleasure to me to be near him. “Oh, certainly!” he said; “but you must not ask me to play cards with you or otherwise entertain you.”

I remained over the 17th, made several excursions on foot through the woods to the east and west, and was present in the evening after dinner when Lange made his report as to the administration of the estate. I started for Berlin at noon on the 18th, and returned to Leipzig on the 19th. There I received in instalments from Rantzau the bulk of the remaining proofs. The Chief sent two more to Bucher in Berlin, whence I had to fetch them.

I immediately noted down the following particulars of the conversation I had with Bucher on this occasion. I praised the Countess Rantzau as being good-natured and unaffected. “Well,” he rejoined, “she is cleverer and more prudent than her mother. The Princess, for instance, is not fortunate in the selection of her acquaintances. First she had the little hunchback Obernitz. Then Babette, Meyer was her friend and confidant—an intelligent body, but.... She was often with her in Berlin and elsewhere, and as the Princess heard a great deal about political affairs and spoke of them to others, Babette, while she was with her, certainly overheard many things and then repeated them to others.... It was afterwards Frau von Wallenberg’s turn. She was the worst, and she it was who had most opportunity for eavesdropping and keeping other people informed. You know that the Prince generally goes through his official papers at lunch time, and gives instruction to his sons or to Rantzau as to the answers to be returned. She could hear all that, and take note of it for Holstein, who has recently developed, owing to his ambition, into a very dangerous intriguer. He is accustomed to communicate to Paulchen (Hatzfeldt, the Secretary of State), everything he ascertains in this and other ways.”

I turned the conversation on Bucher’s share in the negotiations respecting the candidature of the Prince of Hohenzollern for the Spanish throne. He gave me a detailed account of this. The first time he was in Madrid in connection with that affair was in Easter and then in June, 1870.[11] He gave the following particulars of his second journey: “It was a rush hither and thither in zigzag, accident playing a large part in delaying and hindering as well as in promoting my purpose. Salazar came to me on the Saturday, and wanted to have the final decision of the Prince by Monday. I replied that that would not be possible in such a short time, particularly as I did not know where the Prince was staying at the moment, and of course he would have to be consulted first. Nor was it an easy matter for me to get away at the time. He said he knew the Prince was in Reichenhall, and added, ‘Selon ce que vous me dites je renonce.’ I replied: ‘I assume that you will write a statement of what has passed between us, which will find its way into the Spanish archives; and as they will some day be open to historians, I should not wish to take this responsibility upon myself. I will travel with you, first to Madrid, (improbable, but so I heard it,) and then to the Prince of Hohenzollern.’ He said he would take one of his liegemen with him, a man who would fling himself out of the window without hesitation if he told him to do so. A curious condition of things still prevails there, the obedience of feudal vassals, the devotion of the age of chivalry. Well, we started for Reichenhall, travelling first in separate compartments so as to avoid notice in Paris, and afterwards together, as he did not understand German and his companion spoke only Spanish. On my making inquiries at the office of the baths, I found that the director was at a neighbouring village, and the others could give me no information respecting the Prince. They believed he was not there. I drove out to the village they mentioned and found that the director had left. On returning to Reichenhall I proceeded to the police station. As I was going up the steps I was met by a rather shabbily-dressed man, who stopped and said he supposed I wanted to go to the police office, but it was now closed. He, however, belonged to it, and would go back with me. I told him I was looking for the Prince of Hohenzollern, to whom I had a communication to make. He replied that the Prince was here, and lived at such-and-such a place, but under another name. I therefore proceeded thither with Salazar, but only found the Princess, who told us that her consort was now with his father at Sigmaringen. We packed up once more and made off for Sigmaringen, where we found them, and they agreed. They could, however, decide nothing without the consent of the King, who was at Ems. We then started for that place, and were received by the old gentleman, who was very gracious to me and agreed to what I submitted to him. I then went to Varzin to report to the Chief. It was a regular zigzag journey with obstacles.” Bucher added that he had taken shorthand notes of his conversation with Salazar, which he “still possessed.” At least, so I understood him.

On the whole the Prince in his collaboration with me struck out a little over seventeen pages out of a total of nearly 900, while he contributed some twenty-two pages to the two volumes. The first edition of 10,000 copies was issued at the end of February 1884, and by the autumn of 1885, 6,500 copies had been disposed of, although the Liberal press did its worst to run the book down. An English translation was published by Macmillan in April, and some months later arrangements were made for an Italian edition. (This translation, by Brandi, was only published at Milan in the spring of 1888.)

On the 14th of March, 1884, I again took up my residence in Berlin; and on the 16th I called upon Bucher, to present him with a handsomely bound copy of my book, Unser Reichskanzler. He had already got it, however, and had read it through without coming across any inaccuracies. He made three suggestions for some supplementary material on the issue of a new edition.

According to Bucher, the Chancellor had returned this time from Friedrichsruh in excellent condition, had already been twice out riding in the Thiergarten, and once for a walk there. He had drawn up a memorandum for the Emperor, showing that the home policy of Gladstone, the extension of the franchise, must lower the position of the English aristocracy and with it that of the Crown, which was of course only its head. The Emperor’s minute said that he was much struck with this statement, and suggested that it should be laid before the Crown Prince—a suggestion to which the Chief agreed. In Bucher’s opinion the Chancellor would on certain conditions consent to remain in office when the Crown Prince came to the throne, but the latter would not keep his promises, and then Bismarck would retire. A further communication of Bucher’s was also interesting, namely, that the “refutation of the absurd attack of the National Zeitung” (on my account of Gablentz’s mission), which was contained in the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung was written by the Prince himself.

A few days after this visit to Bucher I wrote to the Imperial Chancellor, informing him that I was again a resident of Berlin, and begging him in case there was anything I could do for him in the press to kindly let me know when I might call upon him to take his instructions. I received no answer to this letter. My intercourse with Bucher continued. On the 3rd of July, he sent me a card informing me of his departure for Laubbach, near Coblenz.

On the 27th of July, I received the following letter which had been returned owing to an incorrect address and then re-despatched:—

On the 23rd September I called upon Bucher, who had undergone a course of massage and hygienic gymnastics at Laubbach, and had been back in Berlin for about five weeks. He again complained of the “shocking way in which business was conducted in the Foreign Office”; and in particular of Hatzfeldt and Holstein. For a long time past he had given up saluting the latter. He would “like best of all to leave the place, if that were only possible.” He praised Count Herbert as “very diligent and not unskilful,” and was of opinion that the Prince intended to make him Secretary of State at some future time. Münster, “who is more English than German, and does very little,” having allowed some question to hang fire, the Chief sent Herbert to London, where he at once took it into his own hands, pressed it through, and finally settled it satisfactorily. “Another person placed in the position of the Ambassador would have resigned in such circumstances.” I suggested: “Angra Pequena, and the long delay in answering the Chancellor’s inquiries?” Bucher replied in the affirmative. He then said: “It will not be pleasant to work under the young man, but work will be done, and things will not be allowed to drag on in such a slow and slovenly way. Herbert has also a good memory, and has been a great deal with his father. He was often present at interviews with important personages, at which matters of great moment were discussed that do not appear in the official documents, and in that way he has had splendid opportunities for learning.” Bucher agreed with me regarding the meeting at Skiernevice as a “spectacle intended to show Europe the good understanding which exists between the three Emperors.” He added, however, that “the relations between Austria and Russia leave much to be desired in many respects.” He furthermore confirmed the fact that the Chief, “in view of the cool and repellent attitude of Gladstone, has for a long time past been working towards a better understanding with France, and not without success.” After speaking of the Balkan Peninsula, and hinting at an understanding respecting it, Bucher said he had a mind to write something on the despatch of an English Commission to Sarakhs for the purpose of settling the question of the frontier between Afghanistan and Russia, but he had not yet been able to collect the geographical materials. These remarks showed that he had been busy with this question recently. I offered to publish something of the kind in the Grenzboten, and he promised the necessary materials from the library of the Foreign Office, and in particular the account of O’Donovan’s travels. He saw the Prince (who has now returned to Friedrichsruh) a short time ago; he thinks that the journey to Skiernevice has done him good, as he is much less stout, feels thoroughly well and also works hard.

Bucher called at my house at 8.45 A.M. on the following morning with a collection of newspaper extracts on various subjects for my use. I had, however, gone out. On my returning the bundle of papers given to me on the 28th of September he gave me some further particulars of the way in which Herbert had dealt with the English. On Lord Granville asking him in the course of the negotiations respecting Angra Pequena whether we were not contemplating an ultimate expansion of territory towards the interior (Query, towards the East, in the direction of Bechuanaland and the Boer Republic), he retorted, not over politely, that that was “a question of mere curiosity,” and indeed finally, “a matter that does not concern you.” The Chief showed him the letter in which that was reported, and was pleased with his son’s sturdiness. The English have now so far yielded in the matter that the Ministry has not confirmed the resolution of the Cape Government to annex the country around Angra Pequena. “Münster,” he said, “must leave London, but I doubt whether there is any truth in the report that Herbert has been selected as his successor.” He afterwards said: “When the Germans, a short time before the conclusion of the Preliminary Peace at Versailles, sank some English coal ships on the Lower Seine and the English made a row on the subject, the Chief asked me, ‘What can we say in reply?’ Well, I had brought with me some old fogies on the Law of Nations and such matters. I hunted up what the old writers called the jus angariæ, that is to say, the right to destroy the property of neutrals on payment of full compensation, and showed it to the Chief. He sent me with it to Russell, who allowed himself to be convinced by this ‘good authority.’ Shortly afterwards the whole affair with the jus angariæ appeared in The Times. We wrote in the same sense to London, and the matter was settled. A short time ago, when I had to look up something in the documents of the war period, I found that the two papers which I had written in this matter were gone. They had been removed by our mutual friend Abeken through jealousy of me.” I reminded him of O’Donovan’s work, but he said that just now the Grenzboten article would be premature. In this connection he gave me a short survey of the relations of the English and the Russians in Afghanistan, which showed that he was fully informed on that subject. I finally suggested that I should now give a description in the Grenzboten of the scandalous treatment of Ireland by England, based upon Lecky’s book, which he promised to get for me from the Foreign Office library, but which I already had. I wrote the article which appeared shortly afterwards.

The Prince having returned from Friedrichsruh, I wrote to him (on the 27th of October), requesting him, in case he wished anything said in the press respecting the Brunswick question or any other topic of the day, to let me know when I might have the honour of receiving information as to his intentions in the matter.

This letter also remained unanswered. It would therefore appear that the Chancellor will have no further intercourse with me, having apparently taken offence at something or other. His will be done! And so we bring the diary to a close.

Supplementary.

Bucher frequently mentioned to me that South African affairs were also of importance to us. On my expressing my readiness to deal with the subject in the Grenzboten, he promised me material for the purpose, and twice I reminded him of his promise.

On the 3rd of November, 1884, he wrote me: “I cannot yet spare the documents on South Africa, as they may be required for use any day. You will doubtless have noticed this from the articles in the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung. Besides, this is not the right moment. You must first know what the Boers have to say in reply to the accusations of the English.

“In the meantime another article would be desirable in No. 47 on the debate in The Times of the 1st instant. I have done some of the preparatory work for you in this matter, and send you herewith for perusal a bundle of papers in which you will find a variety of material. The subject of Protection in England must, it is true, be dealt with very cautiously, as it is in our interest that England should maintain her present tariff, and we must bear that in mind.

“It is absurd to believe that the tariff question is governed by any absolute principle which applies to all peoples and all times. Every nation must know or must learn from experience what is best for itself. We therefore do not dream of teaching the English, although they are so generously anxious to teach us, and although the change from the system of natural forces (by which, since 1815, the preceding generation of Prussian statesmen raised the country to prosperity) to the free-trade doctrines that have been accepted by the official world and the majority of the legislative bodies since 1850, must be ascribed in great part to English writers, and German journalists paid by England. Now of the complaints that are being raised in England, one has an obvious application to the condition of affairs in Germany, namely, that which relates to foreign competition in agricultural produce and cattle breeding. Then you can deal with the arguments of the other side that a return to Protection is impossible in England, recognising at the same time that there are sound reasons for this contention. Conclusion: we also can suggest no remedy; probably this extraordinary state of affairs must be a consequence of the peculiar development of England—on the Continent the Thirty Years’ War, the Spanish War of Succession and the Napoleonic Wars (1870 was also a ‘wonderful year for England’ in consequence of our war). The peoples of the Continent rend each other to pieces in wars and revolutions. England, which, with the exception of the unimportant French landing in Ireland, has seen no enemy on her soil since 1066, is ‘making money’ and helping herself to the best colonies. If, as there is every reason to believe, we are now on the eve of a long era of peace in Europe, those conditions will no longer exist under which the wealth of England has, as Gladstone says, increased by leaps and bounds.” I wrote this article immediately, on the lines laid down by Bucher, and basing it on his material. It appeared in No. 47 of the Grenzboten.

On the 16th of November Bucher again sent me material for an attack upon England. This I worked up into an article entitled “England and the Cholera,” which was published in No. 49 of the Grenzboten. This article argued that England had destroyed hand weaving in the East Indies by its customs legislation of 1817, thus depriving large numbers of people of their livelihood. This, together with the bad harvests, resulted in famine, which in turn weakened the population and made it less capable of resisting the cholera which arose through malaria, heat and overcrowding at the places of pilgrimage, and which accordingly assumed an epidemic form! England was also responsible for the extension of the scourge to West Africa and Europe, as, in order not to disturb her trade and shipping, she exercised no proper supervision.

On the 24th of November I again called upon Bucher to remind him of the promised documents from the Foreign Office respecting the struggle between the English and the Boers. He said that just now in particular it was impossible to spare them, or at least those of a later date than 1879, as the Chief and Hatzfeldt might want them for reference any day. He would, however, send me the earlier papers, though he really ought not to let any of them leave his hands. He is of opinion that England is afraid of a war with the Dutch element in South Africa, and that Warren would certainly not be able to recruit his volunteers except among the English settlers there. He then said: “Just keep a sharp look-out on the news from Afghanistan. Something will happen there soon.” I said: “I suppose the English expedition which left Quetta to take part in the settlement of the frontier has arrived?” He replied: “No, it has only got as far as Herat. But General Lumsden, who has gone by way of Teheran, is already on the frontier, and has discovered that an important point, Puli Khatun (the women’s bridge—the men ride through the stream beside it) a place as to which a decision had yet to be arrived at, was already in the possession of the Russians. The Daily News, the organ of the Government, is surprised at this, and complains of the action of the Russians. The Chief will probably have something on the subject written for the Grenzboten. Of course it cannot go into the Norddeutsche.”

I then asked if there was any truth in the report that Busch, who, by the way, is married to a Jewess, would shortly leave and be given a Legation. Bucher replied in the affirmative.

I: “Herbert will then be his successor?”

He: “Yes, certainly.”

I: “In that case Hatzfeldt’s position will be rather shaky.”

He: “Certainly, he will then be superfluous, and that is doubtless the Chief’s intention. Herbert will then read through the despatches with him at breakfast, and the Chief will explain what is to be done with them, so that Herbert will bring everything ready prepared for us to deal with.”

On the 28th of November Bucher’s servant brought me three thick bundles of Foreign Office documents on the Transvaal question. I made extracts from these, and returned them to him personally five days later. They consisted of English blue books, and of despatches from Münster, Count Herbert Bismarck, Alvensleben at the Hague, and the German Consul in Cape Town. They extended over the periods from the 16th July, 1881, to the 31st of March, 1882; from the 1st of April, 1882, to November of the same year; and from December, 1882, to the 15th of March, 1884. These I worked up into three articles, under the title of “England and the Boers,” which appeared in the first three numbers of the Grenzboten for the year 1885. These were followed immediately afterwards by an article on “Santa Lucia Bay,” in No. 4, which concluded with a statement by Bucher; and one on “England and Russia in Asia,” which was also suggested by him, and for which he had sent me extracts from the English newspapers, together with O’Donovan’s book on Merv. The latter article appeared in No. 6 of the Grenzboten. Together with the documents there was also a very violent appeal (in English, and printed on red paper) to the nations of Europe to help the Boers, on which Bucher had written, “You may keep this.”

(Here follow some letters exchanged between Dr. Busch and Herr A. Andrae-Roman, which led to the interview of the 18th of February.—The Translator.)

On the morning of the 18th of February I called upon Andrae, who was staying with Knak, the pastor of the Bohemian Lutheran community, at his residence, No. 29 Wilhelmstrasse. He introduced the pastor to me as his son-in-law. My visit lasted from 8.45 to 10 A.M. Andrae is a tall stately man, with a white full beard, apparently well on in the sixties. From his accent a Hanoverian, he himself said that he came from East Friesland. He first repeated that, owing to the unfortunate experience he had had he must be cautious in what he said, and that he doubted whether we could understand each other, as from my book I appeared to have a different religious standpoint to his. With regard to the first point, he referred to Bismarck’s letter to him, published by Hesekiel, of which he said: “I really do not know how it came to be published. I read and showed it to some intimate friends, but I never allowed it to go out of my own hands. But it impresses itself strongly on the memory, so that a Schleswig-Holstein ecclesiastic of high rank actually knew it by heart. It was moreover printed, not in the first place by Hesekiel, but by a democratic newspaper.” He likewise referred to Diest-Daber, who also went very thoroughly into things, and immediately noted down everything he ascertained; describing him as “clever and in reality honourable.” He had attacked Bismarck owing to a communication from Moritz von Blankenburg, which was based upon a misunderstanding. I endeavoured to dissipate Andrae’s mistrust, observing that anything he might now tell me on the subject in question was not intended for immediate use in the press, and should not be published at all without his permission, at least certainly not before Bismarck’s death. I was only collecting for history, which would ultimately claim its rights. As to the difference of our religious views, I told him that I had studied theology, and had adopted theosophical ideas, and in this connection mentioned Jacob Böhmen. Andrae was intimately acquainted with Bismarck many years ago, had visited him at Frankfurt-on-the-Main, and afterwards on several occasions in Berlin. He added: “Indeed I may go so far as to say that I was for a long time on terms of close friendship with him. Formerly he listened with pleasure and with great patience to the views of others. Of course whether he was guided by them was a different matter. Probably that is now no longer the case, which would be natural enough with one who has achieved such great things—and at the same time has had so much good fortune.” He then went on to speak with the greatest admiration of Bismarck’s extraordinary political genius, was convinced that he was a “sincere Christian,” and assured me that he “made no secret of the fact even as long since as the Frankfurt period. But then, and even before that time, he showed coolness towards the clergy and the Church.”

I: “I beg your pardon, but how do you mean that? What do you understand by the Church? The entire Christian community, the faithful, the community of saints; or the institution with certain observances and means of salvation, sacraments, public forms of divine service, sermons, &c.?”

He replied that the latter conception was what he had in mind. He then continued: “It is an old story with him, and connected with the manner of his conversion. At that time the clergy in Pomerania were not what they are at the present day. The majority of them were Rationalists, and when the change took place it did not originate with them, but with a few laymen, like Below, (not Below-Hohendorf, as I interrupted him to suggest,) Senfft-Pilsach, and Thadden. They came forward to a certain extent as preachers, and as the clergy held and preached rationalistic views, often in opposition to them—in sectarian opposition. Blankenburg, and Bismarck’s father-in-law in Reinfeld, an excellent old gentleman, were also of the number. Their views somewhat approached those of Gichtel. Others inclined to the old Lutheran doctrines. (Therefore not to those of the Moravian Brethren, as I had supposed.) Bismarck came under their influence and joined them. Hence his coolness towards the clergy and the Church. (Gichtel’s ‘Gott in uns,’ and Bismarck’s ‘Nicht durch Predigermund sich erbauen’—‘Seek not edification from the mouth of the preacher.’) It was not due to the clerical signatures at foot of the Declaration.”

He then went on to say that Bismarck misunderstood “the Declaration.” According to him, Holtz wrote to the Prince that he regretted having had a hand in it. Bismarck was greatly pleased at this, and wrote Holtz a long letter expressing his satisfaction. Andrae disapproved of the step taken by his friend Holtz, “as an individual demonstration,” and suggested that the signers of “the Declaration” should send a joint explanation of its real meaning to the Chancellor, and reject the false construction put upon it, namely, that they wished to express their approval of the articles in the Kreuzzeitung. They wanted to adopt this course, but Bismarck informed them, through Limburg Stirum, that he did not wish them to do so, and would prefer that they should write to him separately. In that way the idea of a collective explanation was dropped. Andrae is of opinion that the intercourse between Moritz von Blankenburg and the Prince still continues, although they only see each other on rare occasions. “There was never an absolute breach between them, as their wives continued to meet as they still do.”

We then spoke about the Kulturkampf, and Andrae expressed his surprise that Bismarck should have entered upon it, as he must have known that a struggle with a spiritual power had no prospect of success. His action was doubtless determined by the creation of the Centre party. I defended him on the lines of the statement dictated to me at Friedrichsruh.

The conversation then turned upon the relations between the Chief and the Emperor. Andrae said of the latter: “His merit lies in the creation of the new army, and in the fact that he recognised the right men and held firmly to them.” He added the following anecdote: “A Minister who could no longer endure his position by the side of Bismarck tendered his resignation to the Emperor. The latter urged him to remain. ‘We must all learn to be patient,’ he said. The Minister nevertheless resigned. The Emperor, on the other hand, did not part with Bismarck, considering it his duty to retain him.” I observed: “It was a case of necessity; it would have been impossible to get on without him.” Andrae replied: “Yes, but the Emperor’s merit was in recognising that fact.”

Andrae then talked a great deal about Hanover, saying that the clergy there “were willing to yield obedience to the authorities who had power over them.” He proceeded: “Before the war of 1866, we, the Conservatives, were divided into two parties—Gerlach and Marquart, and, on the other hand, those who considered a war with Austria inevitable. Ultimately an effort was made to bring about an understanding, and we invited Gerlach to attend a meeting, accompanied by a few others of his way of thinking, in order that he should not be alone. He agreed and came, when he made the following prophecy: ‘There are only two possible results: either we are defeated, and then it is all over with us, and there will be a partition of Prussia; or we are victorious, and then we must have a Liberal régime, as that is the only way in which, unification of Germany under Prussia can be brought about.’ And so it has come to pass. Bismarck demanded an indemnity, and then for many years worked in harmony with the Liberals, so far as that was possible.”

As I was leaving Andrae promised to give me further information later on in case I asked for it. “But not in writing. I frequently come to Berlin, and shall be glad to meet you again.”

I continued in regular communication with Bucher during the year 1885. I visited him on New Year’s Day; called at his house on the 11th of February to return O’Donovan’s Oasis of Merv, but could not see him, as he lay ill in bed; a few days later we had a short talk on the Lucia Bay question; and again on the 25th of February I had a long conversation with him at his lodgings. At first we spoke about the Chief, whose health, he said, was now thoroughly restored. He was “quite young and rosy,” and was “working fearfully hard.” The conversation then turned on Hatzfeldt, who “got sick with fear at the thought that he might have to take part in the West African Conference, and that the Chief might appoint him to represent the Foreign Office in the Reichstag, and so took a holiday.... There is really nothing the matter with him, but he has managed to obtain a long leave of absence. As Herbert is now there, it is a question whether he will return any more. And we shall not miss him, either. Business will be done as well, or better, in his absence. He would certainly have been removed from his post as Secretary of State before this if they only knew where to put him.” I said: “Keudell is probably not disposed to give up his sinecure in Rome to him.” Bucher replied: “Keudell really takes things too easy. We thought he would send in a report on the Italian expedition to the Red Sea, and he, in fact, promised one. But what was it when it came? A description of the ball recently given by him, how he danced a quadrille with the Queen, how the knights of the Order of the Annunziata danced vis-à-vis to him, and other fine and important matters of the kind, all in the fullest detail. The Princess is to blame for this. The other members of the family, including the Chief, have long since been convinced of his incapacity. At the beginning, during the first few months, I myself thought there was something in him. He played the part of the mysterious, reticent thinker, occasionally speaking very well, and with far-reaching and brilliant ideas. But one soon recognised that they were not his own, but were borrowed from the Chief.”

The inhuman pair of us then rejoiced at England’s misfortunes in the Soudan, and I expressed a hope that Wolseley’s head would soon arrive in Cairo, nicely pickled and packed. This led the conversation to Central Asia. Bucher was of opinion that although the Russians would not now occupy Herat, they would take up such a position that at the next opportunity they could annex it as they had done Merv. He then referred to the intention of the English to disband the native contingents of the Indian Princes, amounting in all to 300,000 men and 1,200 field guns, and to the “demonstrative review of the Rajah of Scinde.” I then mentioned the rising of the blacks at Kitteh against their English friends, and he said: “They are threatened by a conflict with the French in Burmah.” In reply to my question: “Have we given up South Africa, or is the Lucia Bay affair still open?” he said that the matter was still under consideration. (...)

At 1.30 P.M. on the 30th of March a Chancery attendant brought me the following pencil note from Bucher:—