History 332:  German History   

Bismarck

From: http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/germanunification.html#Bismarck

MODERN HISTORY SOURCE BOOK:

Otto von Bismarck: Letter to Minister von Manteuffel, 1856

Because of the policy of Vienna [the Congress of Vienna, 1815], Germany is clearly too small for us both [Prussia and Austria]; as long as an honorable arrangement concerning the influence of each in Germany cannot be concluded and carried out, we will both plough the same disputed acre, and Austria will remain the only state to whom we can permanently lose or from whom we can permanently gain. . . .I wish only to express my conviction that, in the not too distant future, we shall have to fight for our existence against Austria and that it is not within our power to avoid that, since the course of events in Germany has no other solution.


Field Marshal Helmuth von Moltke: 1866

The war of 1866 [between Prussia and Austria] was entered on not because the existence of Prussia was threatened, nor was it caused by public opinion and the voice of the people; it was a struggle, long foreseen and calmly prepared for, recognized as a necessity by the Cabinet, not for territorial aggrandizement, for an extension of our domain, or for material advantage, but for an ideal end--the establishment of power. Not a foot of land was exacted from Austria, but she had to renounce all part in the hegemony of Germany. . . Austria had exhausted her strength in conquests south of the Alps, and left the western German provinces unprotected, instead of following the road pointed out by the Danube. Its center of gravity lay out of Germany; Prussia's lay within it. Prussia felt itself called upon and strong enough to assume the leadership of the German races.


Otto von Bismarck: 1866

We had to avoid wounding Austria too severely; we had to avoid leaving behind in her any unnecessary bitterness of feeling or desire for revenge; we ought rather to reserve the possibility of becoming friends again with our adversary of the moment, and in any case to regard the Austrian state as a piece on the European chessboard. If Austria were severely injured, she would become the ally of France and of every other opponent of ours; she would even sacrifice her anti-Russian interests for the sake of revenge on Prussia. . . .The acquisition of provinces like Austria Silesia and portions of Bohemia could not strengthen the Prussian state; it would not lead to an amalgamation of German Austria with Prussia, and Vienna could not be governed from Berlin as a mere dependency. . . .Austria's conflict and rivalry with us was no more culpable than ours with her; our task was the establishment or foundation of German national unity under the leadership of the King of Prussia.


The Imperial Proclamation, January 18, 1871

Whereas the German princes and the free cities have unanimously called upon us to renew and to assume, with the restoration of the German Empire, the German imperial office, which has been empty for more than sixty years; and Whereas adequate arrangements have been provided for this in the constitution of the German Confederation;

We, Wilhelm, by the grace of God King of Prussia, do herewith declare that we have considered it a duty to our common fatherland to answer the summons of the united German princes and cities and to accept the German imperial title. In consequence, we and our successors on the throne of Prussia will henceforth bear the imperial title in all our relations and in all the business of the German Empire, and we hope to God that the German nation will be granted the ability to fashion a propitious future for the fatherland under the symbol of its ancient glory. We assume the imperial title, conscious of the duty of protecting, with German loyalty, the rights of the Empire and of its members, of keeping the peace, and of protecting the independence of Germany, which depends in its turn upon the united strength of the people. We assume the title in the hope that the German people will be granted the ability to enjoy the reward of its ardent and self-sacrificing wars in lasting peace, within boundaries which afford the fatherland a security against renewed French aggression which has been lost for centuries. And may God grant that We and our successors on the imperial throne may at all times increase the wealth of the German Empire, not by military conquests, but by the blessings and the gifts of peace, in the realm of national prosperity, liberty, and morality. Wilhelm I, Kaiser und König.

Source:

From: James Harvey Robinson, ed., Readings in European History, 2 Vols., (Boston: Ginn and Co., 1904-1905), II:571-575; Otto von Bismarck, The Man and Statesman, (New York, 1899), II:48-51  

 

From: http://history.hanover.edu/texts/bis.htm  

Otto von Bismarck,
Memoirs


J. H. Robinson, ed.
Readings in European History
(Boston: Ginn, 1906), 2: 583-586, 588-590

 
Robinson's Note: Bismarck’s fears that the king and his advisors would be intoxicated by the brilliant victory over Austria and would wish to press on, and perhaps lose much in the end, were justified. He tells in his memoirs how, although outvoted in the council, he had his own way after all.

On July 23, under the presidency of the king, a council of war was held, in which the question to be decided was whether we should make peace under the conditions offered or continue the war. A painful illness from which I was suffering made it necessary that the council should be held in my room. On this occasion I was the only civilian in uniform. I declared it to be my conviction that peace must be concluded on the Austrian terms, but remained alone in my opinion; the king supported the military majority.

My nerves could not stand the strain which had been put upon them day and night; I got up in silence, walked into my adjoining bedchamber, and was there overcome by a violent paroxysm of tears. Meanwhile I heard the council dispersing in the next room. I thereupon set to work to commit to paper the reasons which, in my opinion, spoke for the conclusion of peace, and begged the king, in the event of his not accepting the advice for which I was responsible, to relieve me of my functions if the war were continued.

I set out with this document on the following day to explain it by word of mouth. In the antechamber I found two colonels with a report on the spread of cholera among their troops, barely half of whom were fit for service. These alarming figures confirmed my resolve to make the acceptance of the Austrian terms a cabinet question. Besides my political anxieties, I feared that by transferring operations to Hungary, the nature of that country, which was well known to me, would soon make the disease overwhelming. The climate, especially in August, is dangerous; there is great lack of water; the country villages are widely distributed, each with many square miles of open fields attached; and, finally, plums and melons grow there in abundance. Our campaign of 1792 in Champagne was in my mind as a warning example; on that occasion it was not the French but dysentery which caused our retreat. Armed with my documents I unfolded to the king the political and military reasons which opposed the continuation of the war.

We had to avoid wounding Austria too severely; we had to avoid leaving behind in her any unnecessary bitterness of feeling or desire for revenge; we ought rather to reserve the possibility of becoming friends again with our adversary of the moment, and in any case to regard the Austrian state as a piece on the European chessboard and the renewal of friendly relations as a move open to us. If Austria were severely injured, she would become the ally of France and of every other opponent of ours; she would even sacrifice her anti-Russian interests for the sake of revenge on Prussia.

On the other hand, I could not see any guarantee for us in the future of the countries constituting the Austrian monarchy, in case the latter were split up by risings of the Hungarians and Slavs or made permanently dependent on those peoples. What would be substituted for that portion of Europe which the Austrian state had hitherto occupied from Tyrol to Bukowina? Fresh formations on this surface could only be of a permanently revolutionary nature. German Austria we could neither wholly nor partly make use of. The acquisition of provinces like Austrian Silesia and portions of Bohemia could not strengthen the Prussian state; it would not lead to an amalgamation of German Austria with Prussia, and Vienna could not be governed from Berlin as a mere dependency.

….To all this the king raised no objection, but declared the actual terms as inadequate, without however definitely formulating his own demands. Only so much was clear, that his claims had grown considerably since July 4. He that the chief culprit could not be allowed to escape unpunished, and that, justice once satisfied, we could let the misled backsliders off more easily; and he insisted on the cessions of territory from Austria which I have already mentioned.

I replied that we were not there to sit in judgment, but to pursue the German policy. Austria's conflict and rivalry with us was no more culpable than ours with her; our task was the establishment or foundation of German national unity under the leadership of the king of Prussia.

Passing on to the German states, the king spoke of various acquisitions by cutting down the territories of all our opponents. I repeated that we were not there to administer retributive justice, but to pursue a policy; that I wished to avoid in the German federation of the future the sight of mutilated territories, whose princes and peoples might very easily (such is human weakness) retain a lively wish to recover their former possessions by means of foreign aid.

  

Robinson's Note: Bismarck describes in his memoirs the way in which he precipitated what he believed to be an unavoidable war with France. The Prussian king was at Ems, a well-known watering place, when the French ambassador, Benedetti, approached him and demanded that the king should pledge himself never to permit the Hohenzollern prince to become a candidate again for the Spanish throne.. This William refused to do, and as his patience was worn out by the importunities of the French ministry, he sent word to Benedetti that he would not see him again. He telegraphed the news of this to Bismarck, with permission to publish it in the newspapers if he wished. Upon the receipt of the message, Bismarck says:

 

All considerations, conscious and unconscious, strengthened my opinion that war could only be avoided at the cost of the honor of Prussia and of the national confidence in her. Under this conviction I made use of the royal authorization communicated to me through Abeken to publish the contents of the telegram; and in the presence of my two guests [General Moltke and General Roon] I reduced the telegram by striking out words, but without adding or altering anything, to the following form:

“After the news of the renunciation of the hereditary prince of Hohenzollern had been officially communicated to the imperial government of France by the royal government of Spain, the French ambassador at Ems made the further demand of his Majesty the king that he should authorize him to telegraph to Paris that his Majesty the king bound himself for all future time never again to give his consent if the Hohenzollerns should renew their candidature. His Majesty the king thereupon decided not to receive the French ambassador again, and sent to tell him, through the aid-de-camp on duty, that his Majesty had nothing further to communicate to the ambassador."

The difference in the effect of the abbreviated text of the Ems telegram as compared with that produced by the original was not the result of stronger words, but of the form, which made this announcement appear decisive, while Abeken’s version would only have been regarded as a fragment of a negotiation still pending and to be continued at Berlin.

After I had read out the concentrated edition to my two guests, Moltke remarked: “Now it has a different ring; in its original form it sounded like a parley; now it is like a flourish in answer to a challenge." I went on to explain: “If , in execution of his Majesty's order, I at once communicate this text, which contains no alteration in or addition to the telegram, not only to the newspapers, but also by telegraph to all our embassies, it will be known in Paris before midnight, and not only on account of its contents, but also on account of the manner of its distribution, will have the effect of a red rag upon the Gallic bull.

“Fight we must if we do not want to act the part of the vanquished without a battle. Success, however, depends essentially upon the impression which the origination of the war makes upon us and others; it is important that we should be the ones attacked, and the Gallic insolence and touchiness will bring about this result if we announce in the face of Europe, so far as we can without the speaking tube of the Reichstag, that we fearlessly meet the public threats of France."

This explanation brought about in the two generals a revulsion to a more joyous mood, the liveliness of which surprised me. They had suddenly recovered their pleasure in eating and drinking and spoke in a more cheerful vein. Roon said, “Our God of old still lives, and will not let us perish in disgrace." Moltke so far relinquished his passive equanimity that, glancing up joyously toward the ceiling and abandoning his usual punctiliousness of speech, he smote his hand upon his breast and said, “If I may but live to lead our armies in such a war, then the devil may come directly afterwards and fetch away the old carcass."

 

From: http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/1880bismarck.html  

Modern History Sourcebook:
George Makepeace Towle:
Bismarck in the Reichstag and at Home, 1880

[Tappan Introduction]. KARL OTTO EDUARD LEOPOLD VON BISMARCK-SCHÖNHAUSEN---to give his full quota of names---was born in 1815. He followed the traditions of his ancestors and entered the public service. At the accession of William I, he became the head of the Prussian Cabinet and Minister of Foreign Affairs. His aim was to drive Austria out of the Confederation, to unite Germany, and to bring it to the front rank among the nations of Europe. The Seven Weeks' War, in 1866, broke the union between Prussia and Austria, and made it plain that Prussia was the most powerful of the German states. Bismarck's next aim was to win the South German states, and in pursuit of this he was more than willing to push on a war with France. The success of the German army brought about an enthusiasm and strength of patriotism that resulted in the coronation of William in 187I as German Emperor.

Now that the empire was established, the great chancellor aimed at the victories of peace. He skillfully kept clear of international entanglements and formed such alliances as would best conduce to the greatness of the country. Between him and the Emperor William I there was a strong and sincere attachment; but when, after the short reign of Frederick, William II came to the throne, trouble arose. Bismarck had ruled the land for too many years to submit to an autocratic young man of twenty-nine. The result was the minister's resignation. He died in 1898. As has been well said, "He found Germany a group of jealous kingdoms and principalities, the shuttlecock of Austria and France. He left it a united nation, one of the world's great Powers, and the dominant force on the Continent of Europe.

It is interesting to observe Bismarck as, in the legislative palace at Berlin, he sits on the central bench of the Reichstag, which is set apart for the imperial ministers. He usually enters just before the house is called to order, and with a haughty nod here and there, sits plump down into his chair, apparently unconscious of the multitude of eyes that are fixed upon him. He begins at once his work of signing papers, glancing rapidly over dispatches, and giving orders to the secretaries who stand by. Now and then he throws a quick glance across the chamber; then settles down again, folds his arms across his breast, and seems to be carrying on a double process of listening to what is said, and of meanwhile thinking hard. But if Herr Lasker or Herr Haenel happens to be delivering an eloquent tirade against the Government, you can easily read upon the chancellor's grim face, and in his nervous, petulant movements, the emotion which is agitating him. He is not one of those nerveless men who can listen with a stolid face and contemptuously placid smile to the invectives of his antagonists. Irritable, imperious, yet thin-skinned and sensitive, Bismarck never seems to care to conceal the annoyance or anger so easily aroused in his breast by opposition. At such a time you will see him contract his bushy brows, look rapidly around the chamber as if to take stock of his enemies, and finally rise to his feet amid a sudden hush and breathless attention. In a delivery broken, abrupt; spasmodic, with a voice husky and apparently always finding its breath with difficulty,---except at certain moments of high passion, when it rings out strong, clear, and defiant,---with his big hands clutching the shining buttons of his military tunic, or savagely twirling and twisting a paper or a pencil, he proceeds to reply to the attack. His round gray eyes flash brightly and fiercely, his large frame sways to and fro, his face grows red, his legs are sometimes crossed, then suddenly drawn wide apart; and he goes on in the simplest, clearest, frankest language, to justify his acts and repel the assertions of his antagonist. Every one is astonished at his frankness; his blunt avowal of his motives; his unequivocal declarations of future policy; his merciless handling, not only of his immediate opponent, but of all his opponents, and of men and courts outside of Germany. It is a part of his adroitness to seem imprudently frank; his apparent imprudence and recklessness, are, we may be sure, calculated beforehand. But there can be no doubt that his wrath is genuine; or that the greatest difficulty he encounters in debate is that of keeping in check his most unruly temper.

When we follow Bismarck from the chancellerie and the Reichstag, from the palace and the council chamber, to his homes in the Friedrichstrasse and at Varzin, he appears to us under many fresh and more pleasing aspects. For this grim, iron-souled chief, whose courage, will, determination, and despotic temper are so irresistible on the public arena, is really one of the most human of men. He is still, though often oppressed by well-nigh insufferable neuralgic pains, as fond of a frolic as a boy.

He is far happiest in his home, surrounded by a family than which there never was a family more tenderly and chivalrously beloved. He has a great, affectionate, generous heart; his ardent devotion to those who have won his love is in the mouths of all Germany. His home, too, is a temple, in which the household gods are many. In speaking of his quiet, domestic, sweet-tempered wife, he once said, "She it is who has made me what I am." At one of the most brilliant periods of his life he wrote to this congenial partner: "I long for the moment when, established in our winter quarters, we sit once more around the cheerful tea-table, let the Neva be frozen as thick as it will." These winter quarters were the massive, three-story house, No. 76 Friedrichstrasse, the chancellor's official residence. A sentry's box at the front gate indicates its public nature; within, liveried attendants moving to and fro betray that this great man, simple and robust as are his tastes, must still maintain some show of state. The broad stairway is adorned by two stone sphinxes, which seem to symbolize Bismarck's policy, if not his character. Beyond, are the larger apartments of the house,---the drawing and reception rooms; while still more remote, and only accessible to those especially honored by Bismarck's friendship, is the large, plain, curiously furnished library, where he at once performs the burden of his labors and takes his chief comfort. The windows of the library overlook an umbrageous park; the room itself is garnished with suits of armor, boxing gloves, foils, swords, and other paraphernalia of war and the "manly arts." Time was when Bismarck used to sit there, drinking big draughts of mixed porter and champagne, smoking a bottomless student pipe, and working like a giant, till far into the earlier hours of the morning. Latterly, tortured by neuralgia, he has given up these midnight indulgences and labors, and sits with his family in the common sitting-room.

It is not here in the Friedrichstrasse, however, amid the bustle of the crowded city and swarms of officials and satellites, that Bismarck takes his chief delight. It is only at Varzin, nearby his ancestral home, among the scenes of his mad and rollicking youth, that he most fully enjoys the luxury of living. When away, he is constantly longing for Varzin. He once said: "I often dream that I see Varzin---all the trees that I know so well, and the blue sky; and I fancy that I am enjoying it all."

Ample acres and all the appurtenances of a prosperous and well-kept landed estate surround the spacious Pomeranian mansion of the chancellor. The stables shelter many thoroughbreds, the kennels are crowded with Bismarck's favorite dogs. The conservatories teem with rare fruits and flowers; and in all these things the master takes a keen and watchful interest. But he is most often found at Varzin, as at Berlin, in his study. This is a six-sided apartment, furnished with rugged simplicity. An enormous chimney and open fireplace fill in one of the corners; on either side of which rises a column bearing a coat-of-arms on an emblazoned shield. Bismarck is proud of his blood and his ancestry. After the French war, he added to his coat-of-arms the banners of Alsace and Lorraine, and chose as his motto, "Trinitate Robur," --- "My strength in trinity,"---an old family device. "And," suggested a friend, "it may also signify >My strength in the three-in-one God.'" "Quite so," replied the prince, gravely. "That was what I meant." A bust of the Emperor surmounts the chimney; while before it there are placed two stiff, high-backed chairs. The walls are adorned, as Bismarck everywhere is fond of adorning them, with many curiosities; there are Tunisian sabers and Japanese swords, Russian hunting knives and braces of pistols, military caps and quaint bits of armor. The furniture of the room comprises sofas, divans, and the chancellor's writing-desk covered with green cloth, and having upon it a white porcelain inkstand and a two-armed student lamp; on a small table at one side is a large Bible, evidently much used; everything is solid, plain, and substantial, like Bismarck himself. This feature of simple comfort is discernible, indeed, throughout the house. Nor is it without its mysterious staircase. Such a one leads from a corridor into unknown regions. "The castle keep?" once asked a friend, pointing to the door. "That is my sally-port," said Bismarck; and he went on to explain that it led to a path in the woods, whither the great man was fain incontinently to retreat when threatened by a raid of unwelcome guests.

Many of Bismarck's most attractive personal traits are hinted to us by his surroundings. Once within the serene atmosphere of Varzin, the stern chancellor becomes the devoted family man, the enthusiastic sportsman, the frank and talkative friend, and even the genial wit. Those who have been privileged to hear his conversation, declare it to be replete with brilliant sallies, humorous hits, and graphic descriptions. At his ease he is one of the frankest, most genial, most entertaining of men. Adamant as he seems in public, he has been known to feel so bitterly the stings of hostile sarcasm and criticism as to give way to fits of weeping. When, during the Austrian war, the German generals desired to push on and invade Hungary, Bismarck strenuously opposed the project; but his arguments were in vain. Chagrined at his failure to convince them, he suddenly left the room, went into the next, threw himself upon the bed, and wept and groaned aloud. "After a while," he says, "there was silence in the other room, and then the plan was abandoned." His tears had conquered where his arguments had failed. His mode of life is peculiar. Being often sleepless, his usual hour of rising is ten in the morning. His breakfast is simple, consisting generally of a cup of tea, two eggs, and a piece of bread. At dinner he eats and drinks, like a true Pomeranian, copiously and freely. His princely appetite, indeed, is described as being truly voracious. His table groans with a superabundance of rich and indigestible food, and dizzy concoctions of champagne and porter, sherry and tea. "The German people," said he on one occasion, alluding to the many hampers of his known favorite meats, fish, and fruits sent him from all quarters, "are resolved to have a fat chancellor."

Sometimes, like lesser folks, Bismarck has fits of the blues and of brooding; which can scarcely be wondered at when we consider his self-indulgence at table. On these occasions he distresses those around him by the most forlorn reflections. Once he declared that he had made nobody happy by his public acts---neither himself, nor his family, nor the country. "I have had," he went on gloomily, "little or no pleasure out of all I have done---on the contrary, much annoyance, care and trouble." In brighter moods he takes all this back, and revels, with almost boyish exultation, in the splendor of his state strokes, and the new face he has put upon the world's events.

"Where is my dog?" was Bismarck's first exclamation when, on a recent visit to Vienna, he alighted from the railway train. Never did a man cherish a fonder affection for the brute creation than this king-maker and world-mover. He watched by the side of his dying "Sultan" as he might have done over a favorite child, and begged to be left alone with him in the final hour. When the faithful old friend gasped his last breath, Bismarck, with tears in his eyes, turned to his son and said: "Our German forefathers had a kind belief that, after death, they would meet again, in the celestial hunting-grounds, all the good dogs that had been their faithful companions in life. I wish I could believe that!" For children Bismarck had an ardent fondness. His bright little grandchildren are the very joy of his old age. On every occasion, he seems to take delight in humoring and pleasing the young. Curiously commingled in his large nature are sentiment and satire, kindliness and humor. One day he was taking a walk with his wife at the famous watering-place of Kissingen. As they were about to turn down a side path, the chancellor saw just beyond a rustic family, evidently anxious to catch a good glimpse of him. The youngest daughter, a girl of ten, started forward, and with an expression half-timid, half-bold, approached, staring at him. Bismarck at once turned aside and sat down on a rustic bench by the road, until the girl had passed; when rising, he bowed his most stately bow to her, said gravely, "Good-morning, miss," and proceeded down the secluded path.

There can be no doubt of Bismarck's sturdy personal courage. One striking incident in his career has proved that to all time. One day in 1866, as he was returning home from the palace through the Unter den Linden, he was shot from behind by an assassin. He turned short, seized the miscreant, and though feeling himself wounded held the man with iron grasp until some soldiers came up. He then walked rapidly home, sat down with his family and ate a hearty dinner. After the meal was over, he walked up to his wife and said, "You see, I am quite well"; adding, "you must not be anxious, my child. Somebody has fired at me; but it is nothing, as you see." It was the first intimation she had had of the attempted tragedy.

These necessarily rapid glances at Bismarck's career and character may fitly be brought to a close by referring to the depth and sincerity of his religious faith and feelings. In an age when skepticism and atheism are especially rampant among his countrymen, Bismarck adhered stoutly to the sturdy creed of his fathers. "I do not understand," he once wrote to his wife, "how a man who thinks about himself, and yet knows and wishes to know nothing of God, can support his existence, out of very weariness and disgust. I do not know how I bore it formerly. If I were now to live without God as then, I would not know in very truth why I should not put away life like a soiled robe."

This simple fervor of humble and deep-rooted faith seems to me to shed greater luster on his full, troubled, but triumphant life, than the conquest of Austrian or Frank, the rebuilding of a fallen empire, the sway of a power which bends all Europe to its will, or even that lofty mastery over event and circumstances which must record his name the highest on the illustrious roll of the statesmen of our century.  

Source: From: Eva March Tappan, ed., The World's Story: A History of the World in Story, Song and Art, 14 Vols., (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1914), Vol. VII: Germany, The Netherlands, and Switzerland, pp. 253-262.