“London is quieter; but for the climate and the children’s health, I would prefer to stay here. Berne is an old idea of mine; dull places with pretty neighbourhoods suit old people; only there is no sport there, as I do not like climbing after chamois.”
The decision depended on the events at home; the position of the Government was becoming untenable. The elections had been most unfavourable; the Radicals had ceased to efface themselves, the old leaders of 1848 had appeared again; they had formed a new party of “Progressives,” and had won over a hundred seats at the expense of the Conservatives and the moderate Liberals; they were pledged not to carry out the military reforms and to insist on the two years’ service. They intended to make the difference of opinion on this point the occasion of a decisive struggle to secure and extend the control of the House over the administration, and for this purpose to bring into prominence constitutional questions which both Crown and Parliament had hitherto avoided. From the day the session opened it was clear that there was now no chance of the money being voted for the army. Before the decisive debate came on, the majority had taken the offensive and passed what was a direct vote of want of confidence in the Ministry. On this the Ministry handed in their resignations to the King; their place was taken by members of the Conservative party and Parliament again dissolved after sitting only six weeks. It was the end of the _new era_.
It was doubtful whether the new Ministers would have the skill and resolution to meet the crisis; they still were without a leader; Prince von Hohenlohe, a member of the Protestant branch of the family to which the present Chancellor of the Empire belongs, was appointed provisional President. The opinions of the country was clear enough; the elections resulted in the complete defeat not only of the Conservatives but of the moderate Liberals; not a single one of the Ministers was returned. There was, therefore, no doubt that the King would either have to give in on the question of the army or to govern against the will of the majority of the Chamber. The struggle was no longer confined to the question of the army; it was a formal conflict for power between the House and the Crown. The attempt to introduce a Parliamentary government which had been thwarted ten years before was now revived. Who could say what the end would be? All precedent seemed to shew that in a struggle between Crown and Parliament sooner or later the King must be beaten, unless, indeed, he was prepared to adopt the means which Napoleon used. The King would not give in; he believed that the army reform was necessary to the safety of his country; on the other hand, he was a man of too loyal a character to have recourse to violence and a breach of the Constitution. If, however, the Constitution proved to be of such a kind that it made it impossible for him to govern the country, he was prepared to retire from his post; the position would indeed be untenable if on his shoulders lay the responsibility of guiding the policy and defending the interests of Prussia, and at the same time the country refused to grant him the means of doing so.
The elections had taken place on May 6th; four days later Bismarck arrived in Berlin; he had at last received his recall. As soon as he was seen in Berlin his appointment as Minister-President was expected; all those who wished to maintain the authority of the Crown, looked on him as the only man who could face the danger. Roon was active, as usual, on his side and was now supported by some of his colleagues, but Schleinitz, who had the support of the Queen, wished to be President himself; there were long meetings of the Council and audiences of the King; but the old influences were still at work; Bismarck did not wish to enter the Ministry except as Foreign Minister, and the King still feared and distrusted him. An incident which occurred during these critical days will explain to some extent the apprehensions which Bismarck so easily awoke. The chronic difficulties with the Elector of Hesse had culminated in an act of great discourtesy; the King of Prussia had sent an autograph letter to the Elector by General Willisen; the Elector on receiving it threw it unopened on the table; as the letter contained the final demands of Prussia, the only answer was to put some of the neighbouring regiments on a war footing. Bernstorff took the opportunity of Bismarck’s presence in Berlin to ask his advice; the answer was: “The circumstance that the Elector has thrown a royal letter on the table is not a clever _casus belli_; if you want war, make me your Under Secretary; I will engage to provide you a German civil war of the best quality in a few weeks.” The King might naturally fear that if he appointed Bismarck, not Under Secretary, but Minister, he would in a few weeks, whether he liked it or not, find himself involved in a German civil war of the best quality. He wanted a man who would defend the Government before the Chambers with courage and ability; Bismarck, who had gained his reputation as a debater, was the only man for the post. He could have had the post of Minister of the Interior; he was offered that of Minister-President without a Portfolio; but if he did not actually refuse, he strongly disapproved of the plan; he would not be able to get on with Bernstorff, and Schleinitz would probably interfere. “I have no confidence in Bernstorff’s eye for political matters; he probably has none in mine.” Bernstorff was “too stiff,” “his collars were too high.” During these long discussions he wrote to his wife:
“Our future is obscure as in Petersburg. Berlin is now to the front; I do nothing one way or another; as soon as I have my credentials for Paris in my pocket I will dance and sing. At present there is no talk of London, but all may change again. I scarcely get free of the discussions all day long; I do not find the Ministers more united than their predecessors were.”
Disgusted with the long waiting and uncertainty he pressed for a decision; after a fortnight’s delay he was appointed Minister at Paris, but this was in reality only a fresh postponement; nothing had really been decided; the King expressly told him not to establish himself there. To his wife he wrote from Berlin:
“I am very much pleased, but the shadow remains in the background. I was already as good as caught for the Ministry. Perhaps when I am out of their sight they will discover another Minister-President. I expect to start for Paris to-morrow; whether for long, God knows; perhaps only for a few months or even weeks. They are all conspired together that I should stay here. I have had to be very firm to get away from this hotel life even for a time.”
He did not really expect to be away more than ten days or a fortnight. At a farewell audience just before he started, the King seems to have led him to expect that he would in a very few days be appointed as he wished, Foreign Minister.
He arrived in Paris on the 30th, to take up his quarters in the empty Embassy. He did not wait even to see his wife before starting and he wrote to her that she was not to take any steps towards joining him.
“It is not decided that I am to stay here; I am in the middle of Paris lonelier than you are in Reinfeld and sit here like a rat in a deserted house. How long it will last God knows. Probably in eight or ten days I shall receive a telegraphic summons to Berlin and then game and dance is over. If my enemies knew what a benefit they would confer on me by their victory and how sincerely I wish it for them, Schleinitz out of pure malice would probably do his best to bring me to Berlin.”
Day after day, however, went by and the summons did not come; on the contrary Bernstorff wrote as though he were proposing to stay on; he did not however, suggest giving up his post in London, Roon wrote that he had raised the question in conversation with the King; that he had found the old leaning towards Bismarck, and the old irresolution. The Chamber had met, but the first few weeks of the session passed off with unexpected quiet and it was not till the autumn that the question of the Budget would come up. Bismarck wrote to Bernstorff to try and find out what was to happen to him, but the King, before whom the letter was laid, was quite unable to come to any decision.
Bismarck therefore determined to use his enforced leisure in order to go across to London for a few days. He had only visited England once as a young man, and, expecting as he did soon to be responsible for the conduct of foreign affairs, it was desirable that he should make the personal acquaintance of the leading English statesmen. Undoubtedly, one of the reasons why he had been sent to Paris was that he might renew his acquaintance with the Emperor. There was also a second International Exhibition and everyone was going to London. We have, unfortunately, no letters written from England; after his return he writes to Roon:
“I have just come back from London; people there are much better informed about China and Turkey than about Prussia. Loftus must write more nonsense to his Ministers than I thought.”
The only event of which we have any information was his meeting with Mr. Disraeli, who at that time was leader of the Opposition in the House of Commons; it took place at a dinner given by the Russian Ambassador to the Grand Duchess of Saxe-Weimar. Among the guests was Count Vitzthum, Saxon Envoy; he saw Bismarck and Disraeli engaged in a long conversation after dinner; afterwards the English statesman told him the substance of it. Bismarck had spoken as follows:
“I shall soon be compelled to undertake the leadership of the Prussian Government. My first care will be, with or without the help of Parliament, to reorganise the army. The King has rightly set himself this task; he cannot however carry it through with his present councillors. When the army has been brought to such a state as to command respect, then I will take the first opportunity to declare war with Austria, burst asunder the German Confederation, bring the middle and smaller States into subjection, and give Germany a national union under the leadership of Prussia. I have come here to tell this to the Queen’s Ministers.”
Disraeli added to Vitzthum, who, of course, as Saxon Envoy was much interested: “Take care of that man; he means what he says.” It does not appear that Bismarck had an opportunity of explaining his project either to Lord Palmerston or to Lord Russell.
All through July he remained in Paris, to which he was called back in order to receive some despatches which after all never arrived; the same uncertainty continued; there was no work to be done there, Emperor and Ministers were going away; he was still all alone in the Embassy without servants, or furniture. As he wrote to his wife, he did not know what to have for dinner or what to eat it on. He therefore applied for leave; he was himself of opinion that as the King would not immediately give him the Foreign Office it was not yet time for him to enter the Ministry. Writing to Roon he advised that the Government should prolong the conflict, draw the Chamber into disputes on small matters which would weary the country; then when they were getting worn out and hoped that the Government would meet them half-way so as to end the conflict, then would be the time to summon him,
“as a sign that we are far from giving up the battle. The appearance of a new battalion in the Ministerial array would then perhaps make an impression that would be wanting now, especially if beforehand a commotion was created by expressions about a _coup d’etat_ and a new Constitution; then my own reputation for careless violence would help me and people would think, ‘now it is coming!’ Then, all the half-hearted would be inclined to negotiation. I am astonished at the political incapacity of our Chambers and yet we are an educated country. Undoubtedly too much so; others are not cleverer but they have not the childish self-confidence with which our political leaders publish their incapacity in its complete nakedness as a model and pattern. How have we Germans got the reputation of retiring modesty? There is not a single one of us who does not think that he understands everything, from strategy to picking the fleas off a dog, better than professionals who have devoted their lives to it.”
It was only with difficulty he could even get leave of absence, for the King was as irresolute as ever; as to the cause of the difficulty we get some hint in Roon’s letters. There was a party which was pushing Schleinitz, the only member of the Liberal Ministry who remained in office; he had very influential support.
“Her Majesty the Queen returns to Babelsburg on Sunday; she is much agitated, there will be scenes; the temperature towards the Ministry will fall to zero or below.”
He eventually got away at the end of July with six weeks’ leave of absence; he travelled down to Bordeaux and Bayonne and across the Pyrenees to San Sebastian; he was away from all news of the world; for weeks he scarcely saw even a German paper.
On the 14th of September he was at Toulouse; the sea-bathing, the mountain air, the freedom from work and anxiety, and the warmth had completely restored his health; for the first time since he went to St. Petersburg he had recovered his old spirit, his decision, and directness of action. He wrote that he must have some definite decision; otherwise he would send in his resignation. “My furniture is at St. Petersburg and will be frozen up, my carriages are at Stettin, my horses at Berlin, my family in Pomerania, and I on the highroad.” He was prepared to be his Majesty’s Envoy at Paris but he was also ready at once to enter the Ministry. “Only get me certainty, one way or another,” he writes to Roon, “and I will paint angels’ wings on your photograph.” Two days later, just as a year before, he received a telegram from Roon telling him to come at once. On the 17th he was in Paris and on the morning of the 20th he arrived in Berlin.
The long-delayed crisis had at last come; the debates on the Budget and the vote for the army reform began on September 11th; it was continued for five days, and at the end the House, by a majority of 273 to 62, refused the money required for the increased establishment. The result of this vote would be that if the wishes of the House were carried out, the whole of the expenditure which had already been made for eight months of the current year was illegal; moreover, the regiments which had already existed for two years must be disbanded. It was a vote which could not possibly be carried into effect, as the money had already been spent. At a meeting of the Ministry which was held the next morning, the majority, including this time even Roon, seemed to have been inclined to attempt a compromise. The King alone remained firm. When he had heard the opinion of all the Ministers, he rose and said that in that case it would be impossible for him to carry on the Government any longer; it would only remain for him to summon the Crown Prince. As he said this he put his hand on the bell to call a messenger. The Ministers all sprang from their chairs and assured him that he might depend upon them, and they would support him to the end. Such were the circumstances in which Roon summoned Bismarck. None the less the influence of the Queen and the Crown Prince were so strong that the King still doubted whether he ought to continue the struggle; on one thing he was determined, that if he had to give way he would abdicate. Two days later he again asked Roon his advice. “Appoint Bismarck Minister-President,” was the answer. “But he is not here, he will not accept,” objected the King, referring doubtless to the difficulties which Bismarck had raised formerly. “He is in Berlin at this moment,” said Roon. The King ordered him to come to Potsdam. When Bismarck arrived there he found the King sitting at his table, and in front of him the act of abdication, already signed. The King asked him whether he was willing to undertake the Government, even against the majority of the Parliament and without a Budget. Bismarck said he would do so. It was one last chance, and the King tore up the act of abdication. Two days later Bismarck was appointed provisional Minister-President, and, at the beginning of October, received his definite appointment as President and Foreign Minister.
CHAPTER VII.
THE CONFLICT.
1862-1863.
The circumstances under which Bismarck accepted office were such as to try the nerves of the strongest man. The King had not appealed to him so long as there was anyone else who would carry on the Government; he was the last resource, and had taken up a burden from which all others shrunk. He had pledged himself to support the King in a conflict against the whole nation; with the exception of the Upper House he had no friends or supporters. The opinion in Europe was as decisively against him as that in Prussia; he was scarcely looked on as a serious politician; everyone believed that in a few weeks he would have to retire, and the King to give up the useless conflict on which he was staking his throne. Bismarck was under no illusion as to his position; he had been summoned by the King, he depended for his office entirely on the King, but would the King have the strength of will and courage to resist? Only a few days after his appointment, the King had gone to Baden-Baden for a week, where he met the Queen. When he came back, he was completely disheartened. Bismarck, who had travelled part of the way to meet him, got into the train at a small roadside station. He found that the King, who was sitting alone in an ordinary first-class carriage, was prepared to surrender. “What will come of it?” he said. “Already I see the place before my castle on which your head will fall, and then mine will fall too.” “Well, as far as I am concerned,” answered Bismarck, “I cannot think of a finer death than one on the field of battle or the scaffold. I would fall like Lord Strafford; and your Majesty, not as Louis XVI., but as Charles I. That is a quite respectable historical figure.”
For the moment the centre of interest lay in the House. The new Minister began by what he intended as an attempt at reconciliation: he announced that the Budget for 1863 would be withdrawn; the object of this was to limit as much as possible the immediate scope of difference; a fresh Budget for the next year would be laid before them as soon as possible. There would remain only the settlement of the Budget for the current year. This announcement was badly received; the House was distrustful, and they interpreted it as an attempt to return to the old practice of deferring consideration of the Budget until the beginning of the year to which it applied. The first discussion in which Bismarck took part was not in the House itself, but in the Budget Committee. The Committee proposed a resolution requiring the Government at once to lay before the House the Budget for 1863, and declaring that it was unconstitutional to spend any money which had been expressly and definitely refused by the House of Representatives. On this there took place a long discussion, in which Bismarck spoke repeatedly; for the discussions in Committee, which consisted only of about thirty members, were conversational in their nature. There was no verbatim report, but the room was crowded with members who had come to hear the new Minister. They were not disappointed. He spoke with a wit, incisiveness, and versatility to which, as one observer remarked, they were not accustomed from Prussian Ministers. He warned them not to exaggerate their powers. The Prussian Constitution did not give the House of Representatives the sole power of settling the Budget; it must be settled by arrangement with the other House and the Crown. There was a difference of opinion in the interpretation of the Constitution; all constitutional government required compromise; a constitution was not something dead, it must be enlivened; it was interpreted by custom and practice; it would be wiser not to hasten this practice too quickly; then the question of law might easily become one of power. It was not the fault of the Government that they had got into this position; people took the situation too tragically, especially in the press; they spoke as though the end of all things was come; “but,” he added, “a constitutional struggle is not a disgrace, it is rather an honour; after all we are all children of the same country.” A true note, but one which he was not always able to maintain in the struggle of the coming years. Then he expounded the view of the German character which we have learnt from his letters: it was customary to speak of the sobriety of the Prussian people; yes, but the great independence of the individual made it difficult in Prussia to govern with the Constitution; in France it was different; there this individual independence was wanting; “we are perhaps too educated to endure a constitution; we are too critical”; the capacity for judging measures of the Government and acts of the Representatives was too universal; there were in the country too many Catilinarian existences, which had an interest in revolutions. He reminded them that Germany did not care for the Liberalism of Prussia, but for its power; Bavaria, Wurtemberg, Baden, might indulge in Liberalism; Prussia must concentrate its power and hold itself ready for the favourable moment which had already been passed over more than once; Prussia’s boundaries, as fixed by the Congress of Vienna, were not favourable to a sound political life; “not by speeches and majority votes are the great questions of the time decided–that was the great blunder of 1848 and 1849–but by blood and iron.” He appealed for confidence: “Do not force a quarrel; we are honest people and you can trust us.”
The effect of these speeches was very unfavourable; the very quickness of thought and originality of expression produced a bad impression; even the free indulgence in long foreign words offended patriotic journalists. They seemed to his audience reckless; what was this reference to the Treaties of Vienna but an imitation of Napoleonic statesmanship? They had the consciousness that they were making history, that they were involved in a great and tragic conflict, and they expected the Minister to play his part seriously and solemnly; instead of that they had listened to a series of epigrams with no apparent logical connection. We know how dangerous it is, even in England, for a responsible statesman to allow himself to be epigrammatic in dealing with serious affairs. Much more was it in Germany, where the Ministers were nearly always officials by training. Bismarck had the dangerous gift of framing pregnant and pithy sentences which would give a ready handle to his opponents: _Macht geht vor Recht_; he had not said these words, but he had said something very much like them, and they undoubtedly represented what seemed to his audience the pith of his speeches. And then these words, _blood and iron_. He has told us in later years what he really meant:
“Put the strongest possible military power, in other words, as much blood and iron as you can, into the hands of the King of Prussia, then he will be able to carry out the policy you wish; it cannot be done with speeches and celebrations and songs, it can only be done by blood and iron.” [7]
What everyone thought he meant was that blood must be shed and iron used; and perhaps they were not so far wrong.
The attempt at conciliation failed; the report of the Committee was adopted, and an amendment proposed by Vincke, which Bismarck was prepared to accept, was rejected. Bismarck warned the House not to push the conflict too far; the time would come when the prospect of a peaceful solution would have disappeared; then the Government too would be prepared to oppose theory to theory and interpretation to interpretation.
He showed to the President of the House a twig of olive. “I gathered this in Avignon to bring it to the House; it does not seem to be time yet.”
The Budget was sent up to the House of Lords in the amended form in which the House of Representatives had passed it; the Lords unanimously threw it out, as they were legally justified in doing; not content with that, they altered it to the original form in which it had been proposed by the Government and sent it down again to the Lower House. This was clearly illegal. Their action, however, was most useful to the Government. A conflict had now arisen between the two Houses, and technically the responsibility for the failure to bring the conciliation about was taken away from the Government; they could entrench themselves behind the impregnable position that the law required the Budget to be passed by both Houses; until this was done they could do nothing. The Houses would not agree; the Government was helpless. The House of Representatives at once passed a motion declaring the vote of the Upper House for altering the Budget null and void, as indeed it was; in the middle of the discussion a message was brought down by the President announcing that the House was to be prorogued that afternoon; they had just time to pass the resolution and to send it in a cab which was waiting at the door to the Upper House, where it was read out amidst the boisterous laughter of the Peers; then both Chambers were summoned to the Palace, and the session closed. The first round in the conflict was over.
The recess was short; the next session was by the Constitution obliged to begin not later than January 15th; there were many who expected that the Constitution would be ignored and the Parliament not summoned. This was not Bismarck’s plan; he fulfilled all the technical requirements in the strictest way; he carefully abstained from any action which he could not justify by an appeal to the letter of the Constitution; the government of the country was carried on with vigour and success; he allowed no loophole by which his opponents might injure his influence with the King. It is true that they were spending money which had not been voted, but then, as he explained, that was not his fault; the provisions of the law were quite clear.
It was the duty of the Government to submit the Budget to the Lower House, who could amend it; it had then to be passed in the form of a law, and for this the assent of both Houses of Parliament and of the Crown was required. The Upper House had not the right of proposing amendments, but they had the right of rejecting them. In this case they had made use of their right; no law had been passed the two Houses had not agreed. What was to happen? The Constitution gave no help; there was a gap in it. The Government therefore had to act as best they could. They could not be expected to close the Government offices, cease to pay the troops, and let the government of the country come to an end; they must go on as best they could, taking all the responsibility until they could come to some agreement.
As soon as the House met it began to vote an address to the King. They adopted the obvious fiction, which, in fact, they could not well avoid, that he was being misled by his Ministers, and the attitude of the country misrepresented to him; even had they known as well as we do that the Ministers were only carrying out the orders of the King, they could not well have said so. Bismarck, however, did not attempt to conceal the truth; the address, he said, touched the King; the acts complained of were done in the name of the King; they were setting themselves against him. The contest was, who was to rule in Prussia, the House of Hohenzollern or the House of Parliament. He was at once accused of disloyalty; he was, they said, protecting himself behind the person of the sovereign, but, of course, it was impossible for him not to do so. The whole justification for his action was that he was carrying out the King’s orders. What was at the root of the conflict but the question, whether in the last resort the will of the King or the majority of the House should prevail? To have adopted the English practice, to have refrained from mentioning the King’s name, would have been to adopt the very theory of the Constitution for which the House was contending, the English theory that the sovereign has neither the right of deciding nor responsibility; it would have been to undermine the monarchical side of the Constitution which Bismarck was expressly defending. The King himself never attempted to avoid the responsibility; in a public speech he had already said that the army organisation was his own work: “It is my own and I am proud of it; I will hold firmly to it and carry it through with all my energy.” In his answer to the address from the House, both on this and on later occasions, he expressly withdrew the assumption that he was not well informed or that he did not approve of his Ministers’ action.
The address was carried by a majority of 255 to 68; the King refused to receive it in person. The House then proceeded to throw out a Bill for military reorganisation which was laid before them; they adopted a resolution that they reserved for later discussion the question, for what part of the money illegally spent in 1862 they would hold the Ministry personally responsible. They then proceeded to the Budget of 1863, and again rejected the army estimates; they refused the money asked for raising the salaries of the ambassadors (Bismarck himself, while at St. Petersburg, had suffered much owing to the insufficiency of his salary, and he wished to spare his successors a similar inconvenience); and they brought in Bills for the responsibility of Ministers. The public attention, however was soon directed from these internal matters to even more serious questions of foreign policy.
At the beginning of February the Poles had once more risen in revolt against the Russian Government. Much sympathy was felt for them in Western Europe. England, France, and Austria joined in representations and remonstrances to the Czar; they expected that Prussia would join them.
Nothing could have been more inconvenient to Bismarck; he was at the time fully occupied in negotiations about German affairs, and he was probably anxious to bring to a speedy issue the questions between Prussia and Austria; it was therefore most important to him to be on good terms with France and England, for he would not challenge Austria unless he was sure that Austria would have no allies; now he must quarrel with either Russia or with France. An insurrection in Poland was, however, a danger to which everything else must be postponed; on this his opinion never varied, here there could be no compromise. He was perfectly open: “The Polish question is to us a question of life and death,” he said to Sir Andrew Buchanan. There were two parties among the Poles; the one, the extreme Republican, wished for the institution of an independent republic; the other would be content with self-government and national institutions under the Russian Crown; they were supported by a considerable party in Russia itself. Either party if successful would not be content with Russian Poland; they would demand Posen, they would never rest until they had gained again the coast of the Baltic and deprived Prussia of her eastern provinces. The danger to Prussia would be greatest, as Bismarck well knew, if the Poles became reconciled to the Russians; an independent republic on their eastern frontier would have been dangerous, but Polish aspirations supported by the Panslavonic party and the Russian army would have been fatal. Russia and Poland might be reconciled, Prussia and Poland never can be. Prussia therefore was obliged to separate itself from the other Powers; instead of sending remonstrances to the Czar, the King wrote an autograph letter proposing that the two Governments should take common steps to meet the common danger; General von Alvensleben, who took the letter, at once concluded a convention in which it was agreed that Prussian and Russian troops should be allowed to cross the frontier in pursuit of the insurgents; at the same time two of the Prussian army corps were mobilised and drawn up along the Polish frontier.
The convention soon became known and it is easy to imagine the indignation with which the Prussian people and the House of Representatives heard of what their Government had done. The feeling was akin to that which would have prevailed in America had the President offered his help to the Spanish Government to suppress the insurrection in Cuba. The answers to questions were unsatisfactory, and on February 26th Heinrich von Sybel rose to move that the interests of Prussia required absolute neutrality. It was indeed evident that Bismarck’s action had completely isolated Prussia; except the Czar, she had now not a single friend in Europe and scarcely a friend in Germany. Bismarck began his answer by the taunt that the tendency to enthusiasm for foreign nationalities, even when their objects could only be realised at the cost of one’s own country, was a political disease unfortunately limited to Germany. It was, however, an unjust taunt, for no one had done more than Sybel himself in his historical work to point out the necessity, though he recognised the injustice, of the part Prussia had taken in the partition of Poland; nobody had painted so convincingly as he had, the political and social demoralisation of Poland. Bismarck then dwelt on the want of patriotism in the House, which in the middle of complicated negotiations did not scruple to embarrass their own Government. “No English House of Commons,” he said, “would have acted as they did,” a statement to which we cannot assent; an English Opposition would have acted exactly as the majority of the Prussian Parliament did. When a Minister is in agreement with the House on the general principles of policy, then indeed there rests on them the obligation not to embarrass the Government by constant interpolation with regard to each diplomatic step; self-restraint must be exercised, confidence shewn. This was not the case here; the House had every reason to believe that the objects of Bismarck were completely opposed to what they wished; they could not be expected to repose confidence in him. They used this, as every other opportunity, to attempt to get rid of him.
The question of Poland is one on which Bismarck never altered his attitude. His first public expression of opinion on foreign affairs was an attack on the Polish policy of the Prussian Government in 1848.
“No one then,” he wrote, “could doubt that an independent Poland would be the irreconcilable enemy of Prussia and would remain so till they had conquered the mouth of the Vistula and every Polish-speaking village in West and East Prussia, Pomerania, and Silesia.”
Forty years later one of the last of his great speeches in the Reichstag was devoted to attacking the Polish sympathies of the Catholic party in Prussia. He was never tired of laughing at the characteristic German romanticism which was so enthusiastic for the welfare of other nations. He recalled the memories of his boyhood when, after the rebellion of 1831, Polish refugees were received in every German town with honours and enthusiasm greater than those paid to the men who had fought for Germany, when German children would sing Polish national airs as though they were their own.
Nothing shews the change which he has been able to bring about in German thought better than the attitude of the nation towards Poland. In the old days the Germans recollected only that the partition of Poland had been a great crime; it was their hope and determination that they might be able to make amends for it. In those days the Poles were to be found in every country in Europe, foremost in fighting on the barricades; they helped the Germans to fight for their liberty, and the Germans were to help them to recover independence. In 1848, Mieroslawski had been carried like a triumphant hero through the streets of Berlin; the Baden rebels put themselves under the leadership of a Pole, and it was a Pole who commanded the Viennese in their resistance to the Austrian army; a Pole led the Italians to disaster on the field of Novara. At a time when poets still were political leaders, and the memory and influence of Byron had not been effaced, there was scarcely a German poet, Platen, Uhland, Heine, who had not stirred up the enthusiasm for Poland. It was against this attitude of mind that Bismarck had to struggle and he has done so successfully. He has taught that it is the duty of Germany to use all the power of the State for crushing and destroying the Polish language and nationality; the Poles in Prussia are to become Prussian, as those in Russia have to become Russian. A hundred years ago the Polish State was destroyed; now the language and the nation must cease to exist.
It is a natural result of the predominance of Prussia in Germany. The enthusiasm for Poland was not unnatural when the centre of gravity of Germany was still far towards the West. Germany could be great, prosperous, and happy, even if a revived Poland spread to the shores of the Baltic, but Prussia would then cease to exist and Bismarck has taught the Germans to feel as Prussians.
The danger during these weeks was real; Napoleon proposed that Austria, England, and France should present identical notes to Prussia remonstrating with and threatening her. Lord Russell refused; it was, as Bismarck said in later years, only the friendly disposition of Lord Russell to Germany which saved Prussia from this danger. Bismarck’s own position was very insecure; but he withstood this attack as he did all others, though few knew at what expense to his nerves and health; he used to attribute the frequent illnesses of his later years to the constant anxiety of these months; he had a very nervous temperament, self-control was difficult to him, and we must remember that all the time when he was defending the King’s Government against this public criticism he had to maintain himself against those who at Court were attempting to undermine his influence with the King.
He had, however, secured the firm friendship of Russia. When he was in St. Petersburg he had gained the regard of the Czar; now to this personal feeling was added a great debt of gratitude. What a contrast between the action of Austria and Prussia! The late Czar had saved Austria from dissolution, and what had been the reward? Opposition in the East, and now Austria in the Polish affair was again supporting the Western Powers. On the other hand Prussia, and Prussia alone, it was which had saved Russia from the active intervention of France and England. Napoleon had proposed that a landing should he made in Lithuania in order to effect a junction with the Poles; Bismarck had immediately declared that if this were done he should regard it as a declaration of war against Prussia. So deep was the indignation of Alexander that he wrote himself to the King of Prussia, proposing an alliance and a joint attack on France and Austria. It must have been a great temptation to Bismarck, but he now shewed the prudence which was his great characteristic as a diplomatist; he feared that in a war of this kind the brunt would fall upon Prussia, and that when peace was made the control of negotiations would be with the Czar. He wished for war with Austria, but he was determined that when war came he should have the arrangement of the terms of peace. On his advice the King refused the offer.
The bitterness of the feeling created by these debates on Poland threatened to make it impossible for Ministers any longer to attend in the House; Bismarck did his part in increasing it.
“You ask me,” he said, “why, if we disagree with you, we do not dissolve; it is that we wish the country to have an opportunity of becoming thoroughly acquainted with you.”
He was tired and angry when during one of these sittings he writes to Motley:
“I am obliged to listen to particularly tasteless speeches out of the mouths of uncommonly childish and excited politicians, and I have therefore a moment of unwilling leisure which I cannot use better than in giving you news of my welfare. I never thought that in my riper years I should be obliged to carry on such an unworthy trade as that of a Parliamentary Minister. As envoy, although an official, I still had the feeling of being a gentleman; as [Parliamentary] Minister one is a helot. I have come down in the world, and hardly know how.
“April 18th. I wrote as far as this yesterday, then the sitting came to an end; five hours’ Chamber until three o’clock; one hour’s report to his Majesty; three hours at an incredibly dull dinner, old important Whigs; then two hours’ work; finally, a supper with a colleague, who would have been hurt if I had slighted his fish. This morning, I had hardly breakfasted, before Karolyi was sitting opposite to me; he was followed without interruption by Denmark, England, Portugal, Russia, France, whose Ambassador I was obliged to remind at one o’clock that it was time for me to go to the House of phrases. I am sitting again in the latter; hear people talk nonsense, and end my letter. All these people have agreed to approve our treaties with Belgium, in spite of which twenty speakers scold each other with the greatest vehemence, as if each wished to make an end of the other; they are not agreed about the motives which make them unanimous, hence, alas! a regular German squabble about the Emperor’s beard; _querelle d’Allemand_. You Anglo-Saxon Yankees have something of the same kind also…. Your battles are bloody; ours wordy; these chatterers really cannot govern Prussia. I must bring some opposition to bear against them; they have too little wit and too much self-complacency–stupid and audacious. Stupid, in all its meanings, is not the right word; considered individually, these people are sometimes very clever, generally educated–the regulation German university culture; but of politics, beyond the interests of their own church tower, they know as little as we knew as students, and even less; as far as external politics go, they are also, taken separately, like children. In all other questions they become childish as soon as they stand together _in corpore_. In the mass stupid, individually intelligent.”
Recalling these days, Bismarck said in later years:
“I shall never forget how I had every morning to receive the visit of Sir Andrew Buchanan, the English Ambassador, and Talleyrand, the representative of France, who made hell hot for me over the inexcusable leanings of Prussian policy towards Russia, and held threatening language towards us, and then at midday I had the pleasure of hearing in the Prussian Parliament pretty much the same arguments and attacks which in the morning the foreign Ambassadors had made against me.”
Of course the language used in the House weakened his influence abroad, and the foreign Governments shewed more insistence when they found out that the Prussian Parliament supported their demands. It was noticed with satisfaction in the English Parliament that the nation had dissociated itself from the mean and disgraceful policy of the Government.
At last personal friction reached such a point that the session had to be closed. In order to understand the cause of this we must remember that in Prussia the Ministers are not necessarily members of either House; they enjoy, however, by the Constitution, the right of attending the debates and may at any time demand to be heard; they do not sit in the House among the other members, but on a raised bench to the right of the President, facing the members. They have not, therefore, any feeling of _esprit de corps_ as members of the assembly; Bismarck and his colleagues when they addressed the House spoke not as members, not as the representatives of even a small minority, but as strangers, as the representatives of a rival and hostile authority; it is this which alone explains the almost unanimous opposition to him; he was the opponent not of one party in the House but of the Parliament itself and of every other Parliament. In the course of a debate he came into conflict with the Chair; the President pointed out that some of his remarks had nothing to do with the subject; Bismarck at once protested: “I cannot allow the President the right to a disciplinary interruption in my speech. I have not the honour of being a member of this assembly; I have not helped to vote your standing orders; I have not joined in electing the President; I am not subject to the disciplinary power of the Chamber. The authority of the President ends at this barrier. I have one superior only, his Majesty the King.” This led to a sharp passage with the President, who maintained that his power extended as far as the four walls; he could not indeed withdraw the right of speech from a Minister, but could interrupt him. Bismarck at once repeated word for word the obnoxious passage of his speech. The President threatened, if he did so again, to close the sitting; Bismarck practically gave way; “I cannot,” he said, “prevent the President adjourning the House; what I have said twice I need not repeat a third time”; and the debate continued without further interruption. A few weeks later a similar scene occurred, but this time it was not Bismarck but Roon, and Roon had not the same quick feeling for Parliamentary form; Bismarck had defied the President up to the extreme point where his legal powers went, Roon passed beyond them. The President wished to interrupt the Minister; Roon refused to stop speaking; the President rang his bell. “When I interrupt the Minister,” he said, “he must be silent. For that purpose I use my bell, and, if the Minister does not obey, I must have my hat brought me.” When the Chairman put on his hat the House would be adjourned. Roon answered, “I do not mind if the President has his hat brought; according to the Constitution I can speak if I wish, and no one has the right to interrupt me.” After a few more angry words on either side, as Roon continued to dispute the right of the President, the latter rose from his seat and asked for his hat, which he placed on his head. All the members rose and the House was adjourned. Unfortunately the hat handed to him was not his own; it was much too large and completely covered his head and face, so that the strain of the situation was relieved by loud laughter. After this the Ministers refused to attend the House unless they received an assurance that the President no longer claimed disciplinary authority over them; a series of memoranda were exchanged between the House and the Ministry; the actual point in dispute was really a very small one; it is not even clear that there was _any_ difference of opinion; everyone acknowledged that the Ministers might make as many speeches as they liked, and that the Chairman could not require them to stop speaking. The only question was whether he might interrupt them in order to make any remarks himself; but neither side was prepared to come to an understanding. The King, to whom the House appealed, supported the Ministry, and a few days later the House was prorogued. The second session was over.
Three days later, by Royal proclamation, a series of ordinances was published creating very stringent regulations for the control of the Press; they gave the police the right of forbidding a newspaper to appear for no other reason except disapproval of its general tendency. It was a power more extreme than in the worst days of the Carlsbad decrees had ever been claimed by any German Government. The ordinances were based on a clause in the Constitution which gave the Government at times of crisis, if Parliament were not sitting, the power of making special regulations for the government of the Press. The reference to the Constitution seemed almost an insult; the kind of crisis which was meant was obviously a period of civil war or invasion; it seemed as though the Government had taken the first pretext for proroguing Parliament to be able to avail themselves of this clause. The ordinances reminded men of those of Charles X.; surely, they said, this was the beginning of a reign of violence.
The struggle was now no longer confined to Parliament. Parliament indeed was clearly impotent; all that could be done by speeches and votes and addresses had been done and had failed; the King still supported the Ministry. It was now the time for the people at large; the natural leaders were the corporations of the large towns; the Liberal policy of the Prussian Government had given them considerable independence; they were elected by the people, and in nearly every town there was a large majority opposed to the Government. Headed by the capital, they began a series of addresses to the King; public meetings were organised; at Cologne a great festival was arranged to welcome Sybel and the other representatives from the Rhine. It was more serious that in so monarchical a country the discontent with the personal action of the King found public expression. The Crown Prince was at this time on a tour of military inspection in East Prussia; town after town refused the ordinary loyal addresses; they would not welcome him or take part in the usual ceremonies; the ordinary loyal addresses to the King and other members of the Royal Family were refused. It was no longer a conflict between the Ministry and the Parliament, but between the King and the country.
Suddenly the country learned that the Crown Prince himself, the Heir Apparent to the throne, was on their side. He had always disliked Bismarck; he was offended by the brusqueness of his manner. He disliked the genial and careless _bonhommie_ with which Bismarck, who hated affectation, discussed the most serious subjects; he had opposed his appointment, and he now held a position towards his father’s Government similar to that which ten years before his father had held towards his own brother. He was much influenced by his English relations, and the opinion of the English Court was strongly unfavourable to Bismarck. Hitherto the Crown Prince had refrained from any public active opposition; he had, however, not been asked his opinion concerning the Press ordinances, nor had he even received an invitation to the council at which they were passed. Bitterly offended at this slight upon himself, seriously alarmed lest the action of the Government might even endanger the dynasty, on his entry into Danzig he took occasion to dissociate himself from the action of the Government. He had not, he said, been asked; he had known nothing about it; he was not responsible. The words were few and they were moderate, but they served to shew the whole of Germany what hitherto only those about the Court had known, that the Crown Prince was to be counted among the opponents of the Government.
An incident followed a few days later which could only serve to increase the breach. After his speech at Danzig, the Crown Prince had offered to surrender all his official positions; the King had not required this of him, but had strictly ordered him not again to come into opposition to his Government. The Crown Prince had promised obedience, but continued his private protests against “these rude and insolent Ministers.” The letters on both sides had been affectionate and dignified. A few days later, however, the Berlin correspondent of the _Times_ was enabled to publish the contents of them. It is not known who was to blame for this very serious breach of confidence; but the publication must have been brought about by someone very closely connected with the Crown Prince; suspicion was naturally directed towards the Court of Coburg. It was not the last time that the confidence of the Crown Prince was to be abused in a similar manner.
The event naturally much increased Bismarck’s dislike to the entourage of the Prince. There was indeed a considerable number of men, half men of letters, half politicians, who were glad to play a part by attaching themselves to a Liberal Prince; they did not scruple to call in the help of the Press of the foreign countries, especially of England, and use its influence for the decision of Prussian affairs. Unfortunately their connections were largely with England; they had a great admiration for English liberty, and they were often known as the English party. This want of discretion, which afterwards caused a strong prejudice against them in Germany, was used to create a prejudice also against England. People in Germany confused with the English nation, which was supremely indifferent to Continental affairs, the opinions of a few writers who were nearly always German. For many years after this, the relations between Bismarck and the Crown Prince were very distant, and the breach was to be increased by the very decided line which the Crown Prince afterwards took with regard to the Schleswig-Holstein affair.
The event shewed that Bismarck knew well the country with which he was dealing; the Press ordinances were not actually illegal, they were strictly enforced; many papers were warned, others were suppressed; the majority at once changed their tone and moderated their expression of hostility to the Government. In England, under similar circumstances, a host of scurrilous pamphlets have always appeared; the Prussian police were too prompt for this to be possible. The King refused to receive the addresses; an order from the Home Office forbade town councils to discuss political matters; a Buergermeister who disregarded the order was suspended from his office; public meetings were suppressed. These measures were successful; the discontent remained and increased, but there was no disorder and there were no riots. Great courage was required to defy public opinion, but with courage it could be defied with as much impunity as that of the Parliament. Englishmen at the time asked why the people did not refuse to pay the taxes; the answer is easy: there would have been no legal justification for this, for though, until the estimates had been passed, the Ministers were not legally enabled to spend a farthing of public money, the taxes could still be levied; they were not voted annually; once imposed, they continued until a law was passed withdrawing them. The situation, in fact, was this, that the Ministry were obliged to collect the money though they were not authorised in spending it. To this we must add that the country was very prosperous; the revenue was constantly increasing; there was no distress. The socialist agitation which was just beginning was directed not against the Government but against society; Lassalle found more sympathy in Bismarck than he did with the Liberal leaders. He publicly exhorted his followers to support the Monarchy against these miserable Bourgeois, as he called the Liberals. Except on the one ground of the constitutional conflict, the country was well governed; there was no other interference with liberty of thought or action.
Moreover, there was a general feeling that things could not last long; the Liberals believed that the future was with them; time itself would bring revenge. At the worst they would wait till the death of the King; he was already nearly seventy years of age; the political difficulties had much injured his health. When he was gone, then with the Crown Prince the constitutional cause would triumph.
How different was the future to be! Year after year the conflict continued. Each year the House was summoned and the Budget laid before it; each year the House rejected the Budget; they threw out Government measures, they refused the loans, and they addressed the King to dismiss his Ministers. The sessions, however, were very short; that of 1864 lasted only a few weeks.
Each year Bismarck’s open contempt for the Parliament and their unqualified hatred of him increased. The people still continued to support their representatives. The cities still continued to withhold their loyal addresses to the King. With each year, however, the Government gained confidence. It was easy to see that the final result would depend on the success of the Government in external affairs. To these we must now turn.
English opinion at that time was unanimously opposed to the King; it is difficult even now to judge the issue. It was natural for Englishmen to sympathise with those who wished to imitate them. Their pride was pleased when they found the ablest Parliamentary leaders, the most learned historians and keenest jurists desirous to assimilate the institutions of Prussia to those which existed in England. It is just this which ought to make us pause. What do we think of politicians who try to introduce among us the institutions and the faults of foreign countries? “Why will not the King of Prussia be content with the position which the Queen of England holds, or the King of the Belgians,–then all his unpopularity would be gone?” was a question asked at the time by an English writer. We may ask, on the other hand, why should the King of Prussia sacrifice his power and prerogative? The question is really as absurd as it would be to ask, why is not an English Parliament content with the power enjoyed by the Prussian Parliament? It was a commonplace of the time, that the continued conflict shewed a want of statesmanship; so it did, if it is statesmanship always to court popularity and always to surrender one’s cause when one believes it to be right, even at the risk of ruining one’s country. It must be remembered that through all these years the existence of Prussia was at stake. If the Prussian Government insisted on the necessity for a large and efficient army, they were accused of reckless militarism. People forgot that the Prussian Monarchy could no more maintain itself without a large army than the British Empire could without a large navy. In all the secret diplomatic negotiations of the time, the dismemberment of Prussia was a policy to be considered. France wished to acquire part of the left bank of the Rhine, Austria had never quite given up hope of regaining part of Silesia; it was not fifty years since Prussia had acquired half the kingdom of Saxony; might not a hostile coalition restore this territory? And then the philanthropy of England and the intrigues of France were still considering the possibility of a revived Poland, but in Poland would have to be included part of the territory which Prussia had acquired.
It is often said that from this conflict must be dated the great growth of militarism in Europe; it is to the victory of the King and Bismarck that we are to attribute the wars which followed and the immense armaments which since then have been built up in Europe. To a certain extent, of course, this is true, though it is not clear that the presence of these immense armies is an unmixed evil. It is, however, only half the truth; the Prussian Government was not solely responsible. It was not they who began arming, it was not they who first broke the peace which had been maintained in Europe since 1815. Their fault seems to have been, not that they armed first, but that when they put their hand to the work, they did it better than other nations. If they are exposed to any criticism in the matter, it must rather be this, that the Government of the late King had unduly neglected the army; they began to prepare not too soon but almost too late. It was in Austria in 1848 that the new military dominion began; Austria was supported by Russia and imitated by France; Prussia, surrounded by these empires, each at least double herself in population, was compelled to arm in self-defence. By not doing so sooner she had incurred the disgrace of Olmuetz; her whole policy had been weak and vacillating, because the Government was frightened at stirring up a conflict in which they would almost certainly be defeated.
There is one other matter with regard to the conflict so far as regards Bismarck personally. We must always remember that he was not responsible for it. It had originated at a time when he was absent from Germany, and had very little influence on the conduct of affairs. Had he been Minister two years before, there probably would have been no conflict at all. The responsibility for it lies partly with the leaders of the Liberal party, who, as we know from memoirs that have since been published, were acting against their own convictions, in opposing the military demands of the Government, for they feared that otherwise the party would not follow them. Much of the responsibility also rests with the Ministry of the _new era_; they had mismanaged affairs; the mismanagement arose from the want of union among them, for the Liberal majority were in many matters opposed to the King and the throne. It was this want of cordial co-operation in the Ministry which led to the great blunder by which the Minister of War acted in a way which seemed to be, and in fact was, a breach of an engagement made by the Minister of Finance. Had Bismarck been in authority at the time, we can hardly doubt that he would have found some way of effecting a compromise between the Government and the leaders of the Moderate Liberal party. At least no blame attached to him for what had happened. Still less can we afford him anything but the highest commendation, that, when the King had got into an absolutely untenable position, he came forward, and at the risk of his reputation, his future, perhaps his life, stood by his side.
CHAPTER VIII.
SCHLESWIG-HOLSTEIN.
1863-1864.
We have seen that the result of the conflict would eventually depend upon the management of foreign affairs. Bismarck before his appointment had always said that the Government could only gain freedom at home by a more vigorous policy abroad. He was now in a position to follow the policy he desired. The conflict made him indispensable to the King; if he retired, the King would have to surrender to the House. This was always present to his mind and enabled him to keep his influence against all his enemies, who throughout the spring had used every effort to undermine his authority with the King.
There were many who thought that he deliberately maintained the friction in order to make himself indispensable, and in truth his relations to the Parliament had this advantage, that there was no use in attempting to take into consideration their wishes. Had he been supported by a friendly House he would have had to justify his policy, perhaps to modify it; as it was, since they were sure to refuse supplies whatever he did, one or two more votes of censure were a matter of indifference to him, and he went on his own way directing the diplomacy of the country with as sure and firm a hand as though no Parliament existed.
In the autumn he had the first opportunity for shewing how great his influence already was. During the summer holidays, he was in almost constant attendance on the King, who as usual had gone to Gastein for a cure. Perhaps he did not venture to leave the King, but he often complained of the new conditions in which his life was passed; he wished to be back with his wife and children in Pomerania. He writes to his wife from Baden: “I wish that some intrigue would necessitate another Ministry, so that I might honourably turn my back on this basin of ink and live quietly in the country. The restlessness of this life is unbearable; for ten weeks I have been doing clerk’s work at an inn–it is no life for an honest country gentleman.”
At the end of July, a proposal came from the Emperor of Austria which, but for Bismarck’s firmness, might have had very far-reaching results. The Emperor had visited the King and discussed with him proposals for the reform of the Confederation. He explained an Austrian plan for the reform which was so much needed, and asked the King if he would join in an assembly of all the German Princes to discuss the plan. The King for many reasons refused; nevertheless two days afterwards formal invitations were sent out to all the Princes and to the Burgomasters of the free cities, inviting them to a Congress which was to meet at Frankfort. All the other Princes accepted, and the Congress met on the 15th of August. The Emperor presided in person, and he hoped to be able to persuade them to adopt his proposals, which would be very favourable for Austria. It was, however, apparent that without the presence of the King of Prussia the Congress would come to no result; it was therefore determined to send a special deputation to invite him to reconsider his refusal. The King had the day before moved from Karlsbad to Baden and was therefore in the immediate neighbourhood of Frankfort. It was very difficult for him not to accept this special invitation. “How can I refuse,” he said, “when thirty Princes invite me and they send the message by a King!”
Personally he wished to go, though he agreed with Bismarck that it would be wiser to stay away; all his relations pressed him to go. It would have been pleasant for once to meet in friendly conclave all his fellow Princes. Bismarck, however, was determined that it should not be. He also had gone to Baden-Baden; the King consulted him before sending the answer. After a long and exhausting struggle, Bismarck gained his point and a refusal was sent. He had threatened to resign if his advice were not taken. As soon as the letter was sealed and despatched, Bismarck turned to a tray with glasses which stood on the table and smashed them in pieces. “Are you ill?” asked a friend who was in the room. “No,” was the answer; “I was, but I am better now. I felt I must break something.” So much were his nerves affected by the struggle.
The Congress went on without the representative of Prussia. The Kings and Princes discussed the proposals in secret session. They enjoyed this unaccustomed freedom; for the first time they had been able to discuss the affairs of their own country without the intervention of their Ministers. The Ministers had, of course, come to Frankfort, but they found themselves excluded from all participation in affairs. With what admiration and jealousy must they have looked on Bismarck, but there was none of them who had done for his Prince what Bismarck had for the King of Prussia.
Perhaps it was his intention at once to press forward the struggle with Austria for supremacy in Germany. If so, he was to be disappointed. A new difficulty was now appearing in the diplomatic world: the Schleswig-Holstein question, which had been so long slumbering, broke out into open fire, and nearly three years were to pass before Bismarck was able to resume the policy on which he had determined. Men often speak as though he were responsible for the outbreak of this difficulty and the war which followed; that was far from being the case; it interrupted his plans as much as did the Polish question. We shall have to see with what ingenuity he gained for his country an advantage from what appeared at first to be a most inconvenient situation.
We must shortly explain the origin of this question, the most complicated that has ever occupied European diplomacy.
The Duchy of Holstein had been part of the German Empire; for many hundreds of years the Duke of Holstein had also been King of Denmark; the connection at first had been a purely personal union; it was, however, complicated by the existence of the Duchy of Schleswig. Schleswig was outside the Confederation, as it had been outside the German Empire, and had in old days been a fief of the Kingdom of Denmark. The nobles of Holstein had, however, gradually succeeded in extending German influence and the German language into Schleswig, so that this Duchy had become more than half German. Schleswig and Holstein were also joined together by very old customs, which were, it is said, founded on charters given by the Kings of Denmark; it was claimed that the two Duchies were always to be ruled by the same man, and also that they were to be kept quite distinct from the Kingdom of Denmark. These charters are not undisputed, but in this case, as so often happens in politics, the popular belief in the existence of a right was to be more important than the legal question whether the right really existed.
The trouble began about 1830. There was a double question, the question of constitution and the question of inheritance. The Danes, desirous to consolidate the Monarchy, had neglected the rights of the old local Estates in the Duchies; this led to an agitation and a conflict. It was a struggle for the maintenance of local privileges against the Monarchy in Copenhagen. Moreover, a vigorous democratic party had arisen in Denmark; their object was to incorporate the whole of Schleswig in the Danish Monarchy; they did not care what happened to Holstein. This party were called the Eider Danes, for they wished Denmark to be extended to the Eider. Against this proposed separation of the two Duchies violent protests were raised, and in 1848 a rebellion broke out. This was the rebellion which had been supported in that year by Prussia, and it had the universal sympathy of everyone in Germany, Princes and people alike.
The question of constitution was complicated by one of succession. The male line of the Royal House which ruled in Denmark was dying out; according to a law introduced in 1660, descendants of the female branch might succeed in the Kingdom. This law had probably never been legally enacted for the Duchies; in Schleswig and Holstein the old Salic law prevailed. In the ordinary course of things, on the death of Frederick VII., who had succeeded in 1847, the long connection between Holstein and Denmark would cease. Would, however, Schleswig go with Holstein or with Denmark? Every Schleswig-Holsteiner and every German declared that the two Duchies must remain for ever “unvertheilt”; the majority of the Danes determined, whatever the law might be, that they would keep Schleswig, which had once been Danish. The King took a different line; he wished to maintain all the possessions in his House, and that the same man should succeed both in the Kingdom and the Duchies. There was no authority qualified to decide the legal question; and therefore the question of right was sure to become one of power. At first, strange as it may seem, the power was on the side of the Danes. Germany was weak and disunited, the Prussian troops who had been sent to help the rebellion were withdrawn, and the surrender of Olmuetz was fatal to the inhabitants of the Duchies. The whole question was brought before a European Congress which met at London. The integrity of the Danish Monarchy was declared to be a European interest; and the Congress of the Powers presumed to determine who should succeed to the ducal and royal power. They chose Christian of Glucksburg, and all the Powers pledged themselves to recognise him as ruler over all the dominions of the King of Denmark.
Prussia and Austria were among the Powers who signed the Treaty of London, but the Diet of Frankfort was not bound by it. At the same time, Denmark had entered into certain engagements pledging itself to preserve the separation between Schleswig-Holstein and Denmark, and also not to oppress the German people in Schleswig. The Danes did not keep their engagement; despising the Germans, they renewed the old policy, attempted to drive back the German language, and introduced new laws which were inconsistent with the local privileges of Holstein and Schleswig. The Holstein Estates appealed for protection to the Diet. The Germans protested, but the Danes were obstinate. As years went on, the excitement of the Germans grew; they believed, and justly believed, that it was a matter of honour to defend the rights of the Duchies. Schleswig-Holstein was the symbol of German weakness and disgrace, and in defence of them the national enthusiasm was again roused.
With this popular enthusiasm Bismarck had no sympathy; and he had no interest for the cause of Schleswig-Holstein. He had originally considered the inhabitants merely as rebels against their lawful sovereign. He had learnt at Frankfort sufficient to make this indifferent to him, but he still regarded them as foreigners and looked on their claims merely from the point of view of Prussian interests. Both his sympathy and his reason led him in fact rather to take the Danish side. “The maintenance of Denmark is in our interest,” he wrote in 1857, but Denmark could only continue to exist if it were ruled, more or less arbitrarily, with provincial Estates as it has been for the last hundred years; and in another letter: “We have no reason to desire that the Holsteiners should live very happily under their Duke, for if they do they will no longer be interested in Prussia, and under certain circumstances their interest may be very useful to us. It is important that, however just their cause may be, Prussia should act with great prudence.” He recognised that if the complaints of the Duchies led again to a war between Germany and Denmark all the loss would fall on Prussia; the coast of Prussia was exposed to the attacks of the Danish fleet. If the war was successful, the result would be to strengthen the Diet and the Federal Constitution; and, as we know, that was the last thing which Bismarck desired; if it failed, the disgrace and the blame would fall upon Prussia.
The only thing which would have induced him warmly to take up the cause was the prospect of winning the Duchies for Prussia, but of that there seemed little hope.
So long, therefore, as he remained at Frankfort, he had endeavoured to keep the peace, and he continued this policy after he became Minister. The greater number of the German States wished to carry out a Federal execution in Holstein; he tried to avert this and warmly gave his support to Lord Russell in his attempt to settle the question by English mediation. His efforts, however, were unavailing, for the Danish Government, presuming on the weakness of Germany, continued their provocative action. On March 30, 1863, a new Constitution was proclaimed, completely severing Holstein from the rest of the Monarchy. The Holstein Estates had not been consulted and appealed to the Diet for protection; the law of the Federation enabled the Diet in a case like this to occupy the territory of the offending sovereign in order to compel him to rule according to the Constitution. The national German party wished to go farther, to confuse the questions of Schleswig and of Holstein, and so bring about a war with Denmark. Bismarck wrote to the Duke of Oldenburg to explain his objections to this: it would make the worst impression in England; and he insisted that they should attempt nothing more than Federal execution in Holstein. As Holstein belonged to the Federation, this would be a purely German affair and no ground would be given for interfering to England or France. In consequence, the simple execution in Holstein was voted. Even now, however, Bismarck did not give up hopes of keeping peace. He brought pressure to bear on the Danes and was supported by England. If only they would withdraw the proclamation of March 30th, and accept English mediation for Schleswig, he promised them that he would use all his influence to prevent the execution and would probably be successful.
His moderation, which received the warm approval of Lord Russell, of course only added to his unpopularity in Germany. The Danish Government, however, refused to accept Bismarck’s proposal; they brought in still another Constitution by which the complete incorporation of Schleswig with the Monarchy was decreed. This was an overt breach of their treaty engagements and a declaration of war with Germany. At the beginning of November, it was carried through the Rigsrad by the required majority of two-thirds, and was sent up to the King to receive his signature. Before he had time to sign it the King died.
It was expected that the death of the King would make little difference in the situation, for it had been agreed that Christian of Glucksburg should succeed to all the provinces of the Monarchy. The first act he had to perform was the signature of the new Constitution; it is said that he hesitated, but was told by the Ministers that if he refused they would answer neither for his crown nor his head. On November 23d he signed.
Before this had happened the situation had received an unexpected change. A new claimant appeared to dispute his title to the Duchies. The day after the death of the King, Frederick, eldest son of the Duke of Augustenburg, published a proclamation announcing his succession to the Duchy under the title of Frederick VIII. No one seems to have foreseen this step; it was supposed that after the agreement of 1853 the question of succession had been finally settled. The whole of the German nation, however, received with enthusiasm the news that it was again to be raised.
They believed that the Prince was the lawful heir; they saw in his claim the possibility of permanently separating the Duchies from Denmark. Nothing seemed to stand between this and accomplishment except the Treaty of London. Surely the rights of the Duchies, and the claim of Augustenburg, supported by united Germany, would be strong enough to bear down this treaty which was so unjust.
The question will be asked, was the claim of Augustenburg valid? No positive answer can be given, for it has never been tried by a competent court of law. It may, however, I think, be said that although there were objections, which might invalidate his right to at least a part of the Duchies, it is almost certain that a quite impartial tribunal would have decided that he had at least a better claim than any of his rivals. This at least would have been true fifteen years before. When, however, the Treaty of London was arranged it was necessary to procure the renunciation of all the different claimants. That of the Emperor of Russia, the Duke of Oldenburg, and others was obtained without much difficulty; the Duke of Augustenburg long refused. In order to compel him to renounce, the Danish Government refused to restore to him his private property, which had been confiscated owing to the part he had taken in the late rebellion. He had been enormously wealthy, but was now living in exile and deprived of his revenues. By this means they had at last induced him to sign a document, in which he promised, for himself and his successors, not to make any attempt to enforce his claims to the succession. The document was curiously worded; there was no actual renunciation, only a promise to abstain from action. In return for this a sum of money, not equal, however, to that which he had lost, was handed over to him. Now it was Bismarck who, while envoy at Frankfort, had carried on the negotiations; he had taken much trouble about the matter, and earned the warm gratitude both of the King of Denmark and of the Duke. There is, I think, no doubt that he believed that the agreement was a _bona fide_ one and would be maintained. Since then the Duke had renounced all his claims in favour of his eldest son; Prince Frederick had not signed the contract and maintained that he was not bound by it. Of course Bismarck could not admit this, and his whole attitude towards the Prince must from the beginning be hostile.
It is only fair to point out that there was no reason whatever why the Augustenburgs should do anything more than that to which they were bound by the strict letter of the agreement; they had no ties of gratitude towards Denmark; they had not, as is often said, sold their rights, for they had received only a portion of their own possessions. However this may be, his claim was supported, not only by the people and Parliaments, but by leaders of the German Governments, headed by the King of Bavaria.
Bismarck was now asked to denounce the Treaty of London to which Prussia had given her assent; to support the claims of Augustenburg; to carry out the policy of the Diet, and if necessary to allow the Prussian army to be used in fighting for Prince Frederick against the King of Denmark. This he had not the slightest intention of doing. He had to consider first of all that Prussia was bound by treaties. As he said: “We may regret that we signed, but the signature took place. Honour as well as wisdom allows us to leave no doubt as to our loyalty to our engagements.” He had moreover to consider that if he acted as the Germans wished he would find himself opposed, not only by Denmark, but also by Russia and England, and in military operations on the narrow peninsula the power of the English fleet would easily outbalance the superiority of the Prussian army. Moreover, and this was the point which affected him most, what good would come to Prussia even if she were successful in this war? “I cannot regard it as a Prussian interest to wage war in order in the most favourable result to establish a new Grand Duke in Schleswig-Holstein, who out of fear of Prussian aggression would vote against us at the Diet.”
His policy, therefore, was clearly marked out for him: he must refuse to recognise the claims of Augustenburg; he must refuse to break the Treaty of London. This, however, would not prevent him from bringing pressure to bear on the new King of Denmark, as he had done on his predecessor, to induce him to abide by his treaty engagements, and, if he did not do so, from declaring war against him.
There was even at this time in his mind another thought. He had the hope that in some way or other he might be able to gain a direct increase of territory for Prussia. If they recognised the Augustenburg claims this would be always impossible, for then either the Duchies would remain under the King of Denmark or, if the Danes were defeated, they would have to be given to the Prince.
In this policy he was supported by Austria. The Austrian Government was also bound by the Treaty of London; they were much annoyed at the violent and almost revolutionary agitation which had broken out in Germany; it was with much relief that they learned that Prussia, instead of heading the movement as in 1849, was ready to oppose it. The two great Powers so lately in opposition now acted in close union.
Issue was joined at the Diet between the two parties. The Prince brought his claim before it, and those who supported him proposed that, as the succession to the Duchies was in dispute, they should be occupied by a Federal army until the true ruler had been determined. Against this Austria and Prussia proposed that the Federal execution in Holstein, which had before been resolved on, should be at once carried out. If the execution were voted it would be an indirect recognition of Christian as ruler, for it would be carried out as against his Government; on this point, execution or occupation, the votes were taken.
Bismarck was, however, greatly embarrassed by the strong influence which the Prince of Augustenburg had in the Prussian Royal Family; he was an intimate friend of the Crown Princess, and the Crown Princess and the King himself regarded his claims with favour. Directly after his proclamation the pretender came to Berlin; he had a very friendly reception from the King, who expressed his deep regret that he was tied by the London Convention, but clearly shewed that he hoped this difficulty might be overcome. Bismarck took another line; he said that he was trying to induce the new King not to sign the Constitution; the Prince, to Bismarck’s obvious annoyance, explained that that would be no use; he should maintain his claims just the same.
The King disliked the Treaty of London as much as everyone else did; he had to agree to Bismarck’s arguments that it would not be safe to denounce it, but he would have been quite willing, supposing Prussia was outvoted in the Diet, to accept the vote and obey the decision of the majority; he even hoped that this would be the result. Bismarck would have regarded an adverse vote as a sufficient reason for retiring from the Federation altogether. Were Prussia outvoted, it would be forced into a European war, which he wished to avoid, and made to fight as a single member of the German Confederation. Rather than do this he would prefer to fight on the other side; “Denmark is a better ally than the German States,” he said. The two parties were contending as keenly at the Prussian Court as at Frankfort; Vincke wrote a long and pressing letter to the King; Schleinitz appeared again, supported as of old by the Queen; the Crown Prince was still in England, but he and his wife were enthusiastic on the Prince’s side.
How much Bismarck was hampered by adverse influences at Court we see from a letter to Roon:
“I am far removed from any hasty or selfish resolution, but I have a feeling that the cause of the King against the Revolution is lost; his heart is in the other camp and he has more confidence in his opponents than his friends. For us it will be indifferent, one year or thirty years hence, but not for our children. The King has ordered me to come to him before the sitting to discuss what is to be said; I shall not say much, partly because I have not closed my eyes all night and am wretched, and then I really do not know what to say. They will certainly reject the loan, and his Majesty at the risk of breaking with Europe and experiencing a second Olmuetz will at last join the Democracy, and work with it in order to set up Augustenburg and found a new State. What is the good of making speeches and scolding? Without some miracle of God the game is lost. Now and with posterity the blame will be laid upon us. As God will. He will know how long Prussia has to exist. But God knows I shall be sorry when it ceases.”
The only ally that Bismarck had was Austria. Their combined influence was sufficiently strong by a majority of one to carry through the Diet execution instead of occupation; though there was appended to the motion a rider that the question of succession was not thereby prejudiced.
The execution took place. During the month of December the Hanoverians and Saxons occupied Holstein; the Danes did not resist but retreated across the Eider. At the end of the year the occupation was complete. In the rear of the German troops had come also the Prince of Augustenburg, who had settled himself in the land of which he claimed to be ruler.
What was now to be done? The Augustenburg party wished at once to press forward with the question of the succession; let the Diet decide this immediately; then hand over Holstein to the new Duke and immediately seize Schleswig also and vindicate it from Christian, the alien usurper. Bismarck would not hear of this; he still maintained his policy that Prussia should not denounce the London Convention, should recognise the sovereignty of Christian, and should demand from him as lawful ruler of all the Danish possessions the repeal of the obnoxious November Constitution. In this he was still supported by Austria; if the Danes did not acquiesce in these very moderate demands, the Germans should enter Schleswig and seize it as a security. Then he would be able when he wished to free himself from the Treaty of London, for war dissolves all treaties.
The advantage of this plan was that it entirely deprived England of any grounds for interference; Prussia alone was now defending the London Convention; Prussia was preventing the Diet from a breach of treaty; the claim of Denmark was one in regard to which the Danes were absolutely wrong. Bismarck had therefore on his side Austria, Russia, probably France, and averted the hostility of England. Against him was German public opinion, the German Diet, and the Prussian Parliament; everyone, that is, whom he neither feared nor regarded. So long as the King was firm he could look with confidence to the future, even though he did not know what it would bring forth.
With the Parliament indeed nothing was to be done; they, of course, strongly supported Augustenburg. They refused to look at the question from a Prussian point of view. “On your side,” Bismarck said, “no one dares honestly to say that he acts for the interests of Prussia and as a Prussian.” They feared that he proposed to hand back the Duchies to Denmark; they refused to consider him seriously as Foreign Minister; they spoke of him as a rash amateur. It was to attack him on his most sensitive point. Here, at least, he felt on completely secure ground; diplomacy was his profession; what did the professors and talkers in the Chamber know of it? They were trying to control the policy of the State, but, he said, “in these days an Assembly of 350 members cannot in the last instance direct the policy of a great Power.” The Government asked for a loan for military operations; he appealed to their patriotism, but it was in vain; the House voted an address to the King, remonstrating against the conduct of foreign affairs, and threw out the loan by a majority of 275 to 51. “If you do not vote the money, we shall take it where we can get it,” Bismarck had warned them. The House was immediately prorogued after a session of only two months, not to meet again till January, 1865.
This policy of Bismarck was proposed by Austria and Prussia at the Diet; the other States refused to adopt it, as they wished to raise the question of succession; on a division Prussia was outvoted. The two great Powers therefore entered into a separate agreement in which, while still recognising the integrity of the Danish Monarchy, they undertook to force the King to withdraw the obnoxious Constitution, and, if he did not consent to do so, they agreed to occupy Schleswig.
The Prussian House, in its address to the King, had declared that the only result of this policy would be to give back the Duchies to Denmark. Was there no fear of this? What would have happened had Denmark after all given in, as England strongly pressed her to do? Had she withdrawn the obnoxious Constitution, and granted all that Bismarck asked, why then Prussia and Austria would have been bound to support the integrity of Denmark, and, if necessary, by force of arms to eject the Federal troops from Holstein. Bismarck had considered this contingency, and guarded himself against it. Many years later Beust put the question to him. “Oh, I was all right,” he answered; “I had assured myself that the Danes would not give in. I had led them to think that England would support them, though I knew this was not the case.” He had, however, even a surer guarantee than this; the ultimatum presented to Denmark was couched in such a form that even if he would the King could not comply with it. The requirement was that the Constitution should be revoked before the 1st of January. By the Constitution the King could not do this of his own prerogative; he must have the assent of the Rigsrad. This assent could not be obtained for the following reasons: the Rigsrad of the old Constitution had been dissolved and had no longer a legal existence; a new assembly could not be summoned before the 1st of January–there was not time. If an assembly were summoned after that date, it must be of course summoned according to the new Constitution. To do this, however, would be to bring the obnoxious Constitution actually into force, and would mean, so to speak, a declaration of war against Prussia. If the King wished to give in he must have time; he must be allowed to summon the new assembly, lay before it the German demands, and require it to declare its own revocation. The English Government, still anxious to keep the peace, represented to Bismarck the dilemma in which he had placed the Danes. Lord Wodehouse, who was in Berlin in December, requested that at least more time should be allowed. Bismarck refused to listen to the request.
“These constitutional questions,” he said, “had nothing to do with him; the Danes had put off the Germans for years; they could not wait any longer. The King could always make a _coup d’etat_; he would have to do so sooner or later. Germany and Denmark could never be at peace so long as the Democratic party had the authority.”
Denmark did not give way; the help from England, on which they had reckoned, was not forthcoming; the fatal day passed; the Austrians and Prussians entered Holstein, marched across that Duchy, and in the early part of February began the invasion of Schleswig. The relations of the Allied troops to the Federal army of occupation were very remarkable. Both were opposed to the Danes, but they were equally opposed to one another; had they dared to do so, the Saxons would have opposed the Prussian advance. As it was they sullenly watched the Prussian and Austrian columns marching north to the invasion of Denmark.
It was the first time that the remodelled Prussian army had been tested on the field of battle; Bismarck had brought it about that they were fighting for the cause of Germany and in alliance with Austria. As soon as war began, his own position improved. The King and the army were, of course, all the more confident in a Minister who had given them so good a cause of war and allowed them to take the field side by side with their old ally. Their superiority in number and discipline ensured success in the military operations; the Danes evacuated their first position at the Dannewirk; the German troops occupied the whole of Schleswig, then after some further delay advanced into Jutland, and finally began the siege of the strong fortification of the Dueppel. The taking of this was a difficult piece of work, which, after some delay, was successfully carried out at the beginning of April.
Meanwhile the diplomatic difficulties had continued. There had now come from England the proposal of a Conference. This Bismarck, always wishing to preserve the appearance of moderation, accepted. Before doing so, he knew that he had gained a very important ally. Napoleon was displeased with the English Government; he it was who suggested to Bismarck that the best solution of the difficulty would be the annexation of the Duchies to Prussia. It was just what Bismarck himself desired. Would he be able to bring it about? This was what was in his mind when he had to consider the attitude he should adopt at the Conference.
He could not, of course, propose it openly; he might be able to arrange affairs so that in the universal confusion this solution should be welcomed. He first of all began to change his attitude towards the German agitation for Augustenburg; hitherto he had opposed and discouraged it; now he let it have free course. He wrote:
“The present situation is such that it seems to me desirable to let loose the whole pack against the Danes at the Congress; the joint noise will work in the direction of making the subjugation of the Duchies to Denmark appear impossible to foreigners; they will have to consider programmes which the Prussian Government cannot lay before them.”
What this means is that England and Russia were to be convinced that Denmark could not regain the Duchies; then they would have to consider who should have them. Bismarck believed that Austria was irrevocably opposed to Augustenburg. “She would rather see the Duchies in our hands than in those of the Prince,” he wrote. Austria and Russia would, therefore, oppose this solution; if both Denmark and Augustenburg were impossible, then would be the time for France to ask why should they not be given to Prussia, and to join this proposal with another one for the division of the Duchies according to nationality.
Napoleon, in accordance with his principles, wished entirely to disregard the question of law; he was equally indifferent to the Treaty of London, the hereditary rights of Augustenburg, or the chartered privileges of the Duchies. He wished to consult the inhabitants and allow each village to vote whether it wished to be German or Danish; thus, districts in the north where Danish was spoken would then be incorporated in Denmark; the whole of Holstein and the south of Schleswig would be permanently united to Germany, and by preference to Prussia. These revolutionary principles of Napoleon were in the eyes of the Austrian statesmen criminal, for if applied consistently not only would Austria be deprived of Venetia, but the whole Empire would be dissolved. It required all Bismarck’s ingenuity to maintain the alliance with Austria, which was still necessary to him, and at the same time to keep Napoleon’s friendship by giving his assent to doctrines that would be so convenient to Prussia.
In considering Bismarck’s diplomatic work we must not suppose that he ever deceived himself into thinking that he would be able clearly to foresee all that would happen; he knew too well the uncertain nature of the pieces with which he had to deal: no one could quite foretell, for instance, the result of the struggle which was going on in the English Ministry or the votes of the House of Commons; equally impossible was it to build on the assurances of Napoleon.
“The longer I work at politics,” he said, “the smaller is my belief in human calculation. I look at the affair according to my human understanding, but gratitude for God’s assistance so far, raises in me the confidence that the Lord is able to turn our errors to our own good; that I experience daily to my wholesome humiliation.”
This time he had been mistaken in his forecast. In a despatch of May 23d to Austria he suggested two solutions,–the Augustenburg succession, and annexation by Prussia; he inclined towards the former, though, as he said, if the Prince was to be recognised,
“it would be imperatively necessary to obtain guarantees for a Conservative administration, and some security that the Duchies should not become the home of democratic agitations.”
As he said elsewhere, “Kiel must not become a second Gotha.” He no doubt anticipated that Austria would refuse this first alternative; then the annexation by Prussia would naturally arise for discussion. Had Austria been consistent, all would have been well, but a change had taken place there; the Government was not disinclined to win the popularity that would accrue to them if they took up the Augustenburg cause; after all, Austria would be rather strengthened than weakened by the establishment of a new Federal State, which, as all the other smaller Princes, would probably be inclined to take the Austrian side. In answer, therefore, to this despatch the Austrians, throwing aside all attempt at consistency, proposed vigorously to press the Augustenburg claim. “It is just what we were going to suggest ourselves,” they said. Bismarck therefore was compelled now, as best he could, to get out of the difficulty, and, as Austria had not rejected it, he begins to withdraw the proposal he had himself made. To Bernstorff, his envoy at the Congress, he writes:
“Austria is endeavouring to establish irrevocably the candidacy of Augustenburg in order by this means to render it difficult for Prussia to impose special conditions. We cannot consent to this. The dynastic questions must be discussed with special consideration for Prussian interests, and, consequently, other possibilities cannot be ruled out, until we have negotiated with Augustenburg and ascertained in what relation to Prussia he intends to place himself and his country. If the person of Augustenburg meets with more opposition in the Conference than the project of a division, then let the former drop.”
The proposal, however, had to be made; for once, all the German Powers appeared in agreement when they demanded from the neutrals the recognition of Augustenburg; but Bismarck proposed it in such words as to avoid pledging himself to the legality. Of course the proposal was rejected by the Danes and Russians and it was allowed to fall to the ground. For Bismarck the interest is for the moment diverted from London to Berlin.
The time had come when Bismarck should definitely decide on the attitude he was to adopt toward Augustenburg. Hitherto he had avoided committing himself irrevocably; it was still open to him either to adopt him as the Prussian candidate on such conditions as might seem desirable, or to refuse to have any dealings with him. He had, in fact, kept both plans open, for it was characteristic of his diplomatic work that he would generally keep in his mind, and, to some extent, carry out in action, several different plans at the same time. If one failed him he could take up another. In this case he intended, if possible, to get the Duchies for Prussia; it was always to be foreseen that the difficulties might be insurmountable; he had therefore to consider the next best alternative. This would be the creation of a new State, but one which was bound to Prussia by a special and separate treaty. There were many demands, some of them legitimate, which Prussia was prepared to make. Bismarck attributed great importance to the acquisition of Kiel, because he wanted to found a Prussian navy. Then he was very anxious to have a canal made across Holstein so that Prussian vessels could reach the North Sea without passing the Sound; and of course he had to consider the military protection on the north. It would therefore be a condition that, whoever was made Duke, certain military and other privileges should be granted to Prussia. On this, all through the summer, negotiations were carried on unofficially between the Prince of Augustenburg and the Prussian authorities. We cannot here discuss them in detail, but the Prince seems to have been quite willing to acquiesce in these naval and military requirements. He made several suggestions and objections in detail, and he also pointed out that constitutionally he could not enter into a valid treaty until after he had been made Duke and received the assent of the Estates. I think, however, that no one can doubt that he was quite loyal to Prussia and really wished to bring the matter to a satisfactory issue. As might be expected, he was very cautious in his negotiations with Bismarck, but his letters to the King are more open. Had Bismarck wished he could at any time have come to an agreement with the Prince, but he never gave the opportunity for a serious and careful discussion on the detailed wording of the conditions. He did not wish to be bound by them, but he kept the negotiations open in case events occurred which might compel him to accept this solution.
In his treatment of the question he was, to some extent, influenced by the personal dislike he always felt for the Prince.
What was the cause of this enmity? There was nothing in the Prince’s character to justify it; he was a modest, honourable, and educated man; though deficient in practical ability, he had at a very critical time announced his claims to a decision and maintained them with resolution. Bismarck, who in private life was always able to do justice to his enemies, recognised this: “I should have acted in just the same way myself had I been in your place,” he said. He always himself said that his distrust of the Prince was caused by his dislike of the men whom the latter relied upon for advice. He was too closely connected with the Progressive party. He had surrounded himself with a kind of ministry, consisting chiefly of men who, though by birth inhabitants of the Duchies, had for some years been living at Gotha under the protection of the Duke of Coburg. They were strong Liberals and belonged to that party in Germany of which the Court of Coburg was the centre, who maintained a close connection with the Crown Prince, and who undoubtedly were looking forward to the time when the Crown Prince would become King of Prussia, Bismarck would be dismissed, and their party would come into office. This is probably quite sufficient reason to explain Bismarck’s personal dislike of Augustenburg, though it is probable that he laid more stress on this aspect of the matter than he otherwise would have done, for he hoped thereby to prejudice the King against the Prince; as long as the King recognised Augustenburg’s claims, his own hands would be tied in the attempt to win the Duchies for Prussia.
He had, as we have seen, had a short interview with the Prince at the end of the previous year now a new meeting was arranged, avowedly to discuss the conditions which Prussia would require if she supported the Prince. The Crown Prince, who was very anxious to help his friend, persuaded him to go to Berlin and if possible come to some clear understanding with the King and Bismarck. Augustenburg was reluctant to take this step. Loyal as he was to Prussia he much distrusted Bismarck. He feared that if he unreservedly placed his cause in Prussia’s hands, Bismarck would in some way betray him. The position he took up was perfectly consistent. He was, by hereditary right, reigning Duke; he only wished to be left alone with the Duchies; he knew that if he was, they would at once recognise him and he would enter into government. In order to win his dominions, he had required the help of Germany; it was comparatively indifferent to him whether the help came from Prussia, Austria, or the Federation. But he quite understood that Prussia must have some recompense for the help it had given. What he had to fear was that, if he entered into any separate and secret engagements with Prussia, he would thereby lose the support he enjoyed in the rest of Germany, and that then Bismarck would find some excuse not to carry out his promises, so that at the end he would be left entirely without support. We know that his suspicions were unfounded, for Bismarck was not the man in this way to desert anyone who had entered into an agreement with him, but Augustenburg could not know this and had every reason for distrusting Bismarck, who was his avowed enemy.
On the 30th of May, the Prince, with many misgivings, came to Berlin. The evening of the next day he had a long interview with Bismarck; it began about nine o’clock and lasted till after midnight. There is no doubt that this interview was decisive against his chances. From that time Bismarck was determined that under no circumstances should he succeed, and we shall see that when Bismarck wished for anything he usually attained it. We would gladly, therefore, know exactly what happened; both Bismarck and the Prince have given accounts of what took place, but unfortunately they differ on very important points, and no one else was present at the interview. It is clear that the Prince throughout, for the reasons we have named, observed great reserve. It would undoubtedly have been wiser of him openly to place himself entirely in Bismarck’s hands, to throw himself on the generosity of Prussia, and to agree to the terms which Bismarck offered. Why he did not do this we have explained. The conversation chiefly turned on the Prussian demands for the harbour of Kiel and certain other concessions; the Prince expressed himself quite willing to grant most of what was required, but he could not enter into any formal treaty without the consent of the Estates of the Duchies. When he left the room he seems to have been fairly satisfied with what had been said. If so he deceived himself grievously. Scarcely had he gone (it was already midnight) when Bismarck sent off despatches to St. Petersburg, Paris, and London, explaining that he was not inclined to support Augustenburg any longer, and instructing the Ambassadors to act accordingly. Not content with this he at once brought forward an alternative candidate. Among the many claimants to the Duchies had been the Duke of Oldenburg and the Czar, who both belonged to the same branch of the family. The Czar had, at the end of May, transferred his claims to the Duke, and Bismarck now wrote to St. Petersburg that he would also be prepared to support him. We must not suppose that in doing this he had the slightest intention of allowing the Duke to be successful. He gained, however, a double advantage. First of all he pleased the Czar and prevented any difficulties from Russia; secondly, the very fact of a rival candidate coming forward would indefinitely postpone any settlement. So long as Augustenburg was the only German candidate there was always the danger, as at the Congress of London, that he might suddenly be installed and Bismarck be unable to prevent it. If, however, the Duke of Oldenburg came forward, Bismarck would at once take up the position that, as there were rival claimants, a proper legal verdict must be obtained and that Prussia could not act so unjustly as to prejudice the decision by extending her support to either. It was not necessary for anyone to know that he himself had induced the Duke of Oldenburg to revive his claim.
At the same time he took other steps to frustrate Augustenburg’s hopes; he caused the statement to be published in the Prussian papers that during the conversation of May 31st the Prince had said that he had never asked the Prussians for help, and that he could have got on very well without them. It was just the sort of thing which would strongly prejudice the King against him, and Bismarck was very anxious to destroy the influence which the Prince still had with the King and with many other Prussians. At that time, and always later, the Prince denied that he had said anything of the kind. Even if, in the course of a long conversation, he had said anything which might have been interpreted to mean this, it was a great breach of confidence to publish these words from a private discussion taken out of their context. The Prussian Press received the word, and for years to come did not cease to pour out its venom against the Prince. This action of Bismarck’s seemed quite to justify the apprehension with which the Prince had gone to Berlin.
It is not necessary to look for any far-fetched explanation of Bismarck’s action; the simplest is the most probable. He had not arranged the interview with any intention of entrapping Augustenburg; he had really been doubtful whether, after all, it might not be wiser to accept the Prince and make a separate treaty with him. All depended on his personal character and the attitude he adopted towards Prussia. Bismarck, who had great confidence in his own judgment of mankind, regarded a personal interview as the best means of coming to a conclusion; the result of it was that he felt it impossible to rely on the Prince, who, instead of being open, positive, and ready to do business, was reserved, hesitating, distrustful, and critical. Bismarck had given him his chance; he had failed to seize it. Instead of being a grateful client he was a mere obstacle in the road of Prussian greatness, and had to be swept away. Against him all the resources of diplomacy were now directed. His influence must be destroyed, but not by force, for his strength came from his very weakness; the task was to undermine the regard which the German people had for him and their enthusiasm for his cause–work to be properly assigned to the Prussian Press.
The Conference in London separated at the end of June without coming to any conclusion; it had, however, enabled Bismarck formally to dissociate himself from the former Treaty of London, and henceforward he had a free hand in his dealings with Denmark.
Another brilliant feat of arms, the transference of the Prussian troops across the sea to the island of Alsen, completed the war. Denmark had to capitulate, and the terms of peace, which were ultimately decided at Vienna, were that Schleswig, Holstein, and also Lauenburg should be given up. Christian transferred to the Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia all the rights which he possessed. As to Lauenburg the matter was simple–the authority of the King of Denmark over this Duchy was undisputed; as to Schleswig-Holstein all the old questions still continued; the King had transferred his rights, but what were his rights? He could only grant that which belonged to him; if the Prince of Augustenburg was Duke, then the King of Denmark could not confer another man’s throne. There was, however, this difference: hitherto the question had been a European one, but since the London Congress no other State had any claim to interfere. The disputed succession of the Duchies must be settled between Austria and Prussia. It was a special clause in the terms of peace that it should be decided by agreement between them and not referred to the Diet.
CHAPTER IX.
THE TREATY OF GASTEIN.
1864-1865.
Bismarck always looked back with peculiar pleasure on the negotiations which were concluded by the Peace of Vienna. His conduct of the affair had in fact been masterly; he had succeeded in permanently severing the Duchies from Denmark; he had done this without allowing foreign nations the opportunity for interfering; he had maintained a close alliance with Austria; he had pleased and flattered the Emperors of Russia and France. What perhaps gave him most satisfaction was that, though the result had been what the whole of the German nation desired, he had brought it about by means which were universally condemned, and the rescue of the Duchies had been a severe defeat to the Democratic and National party.
With the Peace a new stage begins; the Duchies had been transferred to the Allied Powers; how were they now to be disposed of? We have seen that Bismarck desired to acquire them for Prussia; if it were absolutely necessary, he would accept an arrangement which would leave them to be ruled by another Prince, provided very extensive rights were given to Prussia. He would acquiesce in this arrangement if annexation would involve a war with one of the European Powers. If, however, a Duke of Schleswig-Holstein was to be created he was determined that it should not be the Prince of Augustenburg, whom he distrusted and disliked. The real object of his diplomacy must be to get the Duchies offered to Prussia; it was, however, very improbable, as the Czar once said to him, that this would happen.
He wished for annexation, but he wished to have it peacefully; he had not forgotten his own resolution to have a war with Austria, but he did not wish to make the Duchies the occasion of a war. Austria, however, refused to assent to annexation unless the King of Prussia would give her a corresponding increase of territory; this the King positively refused. It was an unchangeable principle with him that he would not surrender a single village from the Prussian Monarchy; his pride revolted from the idea of bartering old provinces for new. If Austria would not offer the Duchies to Prussia, neither would the Diet; the majority remained loyal to Augustenburg. The people of the Duchies were equally determined in their opposition to the scheme; attempts were made by Bismarck’s friends and agents to get up a petition to incorporate them with Prussia, but they always failed. Even the Prussian people were not really very anxious for this acquisition, and it required two years of constant writing in the inspired Press to bring them into such a state of mind that they would believe that it was, I will not say the most honourable, but the most desirable solution. The King himself hesitated. It was true that ever since the taking of the Dueppel the lust of conquest had been aroused in his mind; he had visited the place where so many Prussian soldiers had laid down their lives; and it was a natural feeling if he wished that the country they had conquered should belong to their own State. On the other hand, he still felt that the rights of Augustenburg could not be neglected; when he discussed the matter with the Emperor of Austria and the subject of annexation was raised, he remained silent and was ill at ease.
If Bismarck was to get his way, he must first of all convince the King; this done, an opportunity might be found. There was one man who was prepared to offer him the Duchies, and that man was Napoleon. It is instructive to notice that as soon as the negotiations at Vienna had been concluded, Bismarck went to spend a few weeks at his old holiday resort of Biarritz. He took the opportunity of having some conversation with both the Emperor and his Ministers.
He required rest and change after the prolonged anxieties of the two years; at no place did he find it so well as in the south of France:
“It seems like a dream to be here again,” he writes to his wife. “I am already quite well, and would be quite cheerful if I only knew that all was well with you. The life I lead at Berlin is a kind of penal servitude, when I think of my independent life abroad.” Seabathing, expeditions across the frontier, and sport passed three weeks. “I have not for a long time found myself in such comfortable conditions, and yet the evil habit of work has rooted itself so deeply in my nature, that I feel some disquiet of conscience at my laziness. I almost long for the Wilhelmstrasse, at least if my dear ones were there.”
On the 25th he left “dear Biarritz” for Paris, where he found plenty of politics awaiting him; here he had another of those interviews with Napoleon and his Ministers on which so much depended, and then he went back to his labours at Berlin.
At that time he was not prepared to break with Austria, and he still hoped that some peaceful means of acquisition might be found, as he wrote some months later to Goltz, “We have not got all the good we can from the Austrian alliance.” Prussia had the distinct advantage that she was more truly in possession of the Duchies than Austria. This possession would more and more guarantee its own continuance; it was improbable that any Power would undertake an offensive war to expel her. On the whole, therefore, Bismarck seems to have wished for the present to leave things as they were; gradually to increase the hold of Prussia on the Duchies, and wait until they fell of themselves into his hands. In pursuit of this policy it was necessary, however, to expel all other claimants, and this could not be done without the consent of Austria; this produced a cause of friction between the two great Powers which made it impossible to maintain the co-dominium.
There were in Holstein the Confederate troops who had gone there a year ago and had never been withdrawn; Augustenburg was still living at Kiel with his phantom Court; and then there were the Austrian soldiers, Prussia’s own allies. One after another they had to be removed. Bismarck dealt first with the Confederate troops.
He had, as indeed he always was careful to have, the strict letter of the law on his side; he pointed out that as the execution had been directed against the government of Christian, and Christian had ceased to have any authority, the execution itself must _ipso facto_ cease; he therefore wrote asking Austria to join in a demand to Saxony and Hanover; he was prepared, if the States refused, to expel their troops by force. Hanover–for the King strongly disliked Augustenburg–at once acquiesced; Saxony refused. Bismarck began to make military preparations; the Saxons began to arm; the Crown treasures were taken from Dresden to Koenigstein. Would Austria support Saxony or Prussia? For some days the question was in debate; at last Austria determined to support a motion at the Diet declaring the execution ended. It was carried by eight votes to seven, and the Saxons had to obey. The troops on their return home refused to march across Prussian territory; and from this time Beust and the King of Saxony must be reckoned among the determined and irreconcilable enemies of Bismarck.
The first of the rivals was removed; there remained Austria and the Prince.
Just at this time a change of Ministry had taken place in Austria; Rechberg, who had kept up the alliance, was removed, and the anti-Prussian party came to the front. It was, therefore, no longer so easy to deal with the Prince, for he had a new and vigorous ally in Austria. Mensdorf, the new Minister, proposed in a series of lengthy despatches his solution of the question; it was that the rights of the two Powers should be transferred to Augustenburg, and that Schleswig-Holstein should be established as an independent Confederate State. The Austrian position was from this time clearly defined, and it was in favour of that policy to which Bismarck would never consent. It remained for him to propose an alternative. Prussia, he said, could only allow the new State to be created on condition that large rights were given to Prussia; what these were would require consideration; he must consult the different departments. This took time, and every month’s delay was so much gain for Prussia; it was not till February, 1865, that Bismarck was able to present his demands, which were, that Kiel should be a Prussian port, Rendsburg a Prussian fortress; that the canal was to be made by Prussia and belong to Prussia, the management of the post and telegraph service to be Prussian and also the railways; the army was to be not only organised on the Prussian system but actually incorporated with the Prussian army, so that the soldiers would take the oath of allegiance not to their own Duke but to the King of Prussia. The Duchies were to join the Prussian Customs’ Union and assimilate their system of finance with that of Prussia. The proposals were so drawn up that it would be impossible for Austria to support, or for the Prince of Augustenburg to accept them. They were, in fact, as Bismarck himself told the Crown Prince, not meant to be accepted. “I would rather dig potatoes than be a reigning Prince under such conditions,” said one of the Austrian Ministers. When they were officially presented, Karolyi was instructed to meet them with an unhesitating negative, and all discussion on them ceased.
Prussia and Austria had both proposed their solution; each State even refused to consider the suggestion made by the other. Meanwhile, since the departure of the Confederate troops the administration of the Duchies was in their hands; each Power attempted so to manage affairs as to prepare the way for the final settlement it desired, Prussia for annexation, Austria for Augustenburg. Prince Frederick was still living at Kiel. His position was very anomalous: he assumed the style and title of a reigning Prince, he was attended by something like a Court and by Ministers; throughout Holstein, almost without exception, and to a great extent also in Schleswig, he was looked upon and treated by the