Autobiography of Andrew Dickson White Volume I Part 37

Thence we went to the Church of Brou, near Lyons-- exquisitely beautiful, and filled with monuments even more inspiring than the church itself. But it was entirely evident, from a look at the church and its surroundings, that Matthew Arnold had written his charming poem without ever visiting the place. Going thence to Nice, we stopped at Turin; and at the grave of Silvio Pellico there came back to me vivid memories of his little book, which had seemed to make life better worth living.

At Genoa a decision had to be made. A ma.s.s of letters of introduction to leading Italians had been given me, and I longed to make their acquaintance; but I was weary, and suddenly decided to turn aside and go upon the Riviera, where we settled for our vacation at Nice. There we found various interesting people, more especially those belonging to the American colony and to the ship-of-war Trenton, then lying at Villefranche, near by. Shortly after our arrival, Lieutenant Emery of the navy called, bearing an invitation to the ship from Admiral Howell, who was in command at that station; and, a day or two later, on arriving in the harbor, though I saw a long-boat dressed out very finely, evidently awaiting somebody, and suspected that it was intended for me, I quietly evaded the whole business by joining a party of Americans in a steam-launch, so that I had been on board some little time before the admiral realized the omission in his programme.

As a result, in order to quiet his conscientious and patriotic feelings, I came again a day or two afterward, was conveyed to the frigate with the regulation pomp, and received the salutes due an American minister.

My stay on the ship was delightful; but, though the admiral most kindly urged me to revisit him, I could never again gather courage to cause so much trouble and make so much noise.

Most interesting to me of all the persons in Nice at that time was a young American about fourteen years of age, who seemed to me one of the brightest and n.o.blest and most promising youths I had ever seen. Alas! how many hopes were disappointed in his death not long afterward!

The boy was young Leland Stanford. The aspirations of his father and mother were bound up in him, and the great university at Palo Alto is perhaps the finest monument ever dedicated by parents to a child.

During another of these yearly absences in Italy, I met various interesting men, and, among these, at Florence the syndic Ubaldino Peruzzi, a descendant of the great Peruzzis of the middle ages, and one of the last surviving a.s.sociates of Cavour. He was an admirable talker; but of all he said I was most pleased with the tribute which he paid to the American minister at Rome, Judge Stallo of Cincinnati.

He declared that at a recent conference of statesmen and diplomatists, Judge Stallo had carried off all the honors-- speaking with ease, as might be necessary, in Italian, French, and English, and finally drawing up a protocol in Latin.

At Florence also I made an acquaintance which has ever since been a source of great pleasure to me--that of Professor Villari, senator of the kingdom, historian of Florence, and biographer of Savonarola. So began a friendship which has increased the delights of many Florentine visits since those days--a friendship not only with him, but with his gifted and charming wife.

This reminds me that at Rome the name of the eminent professor once brought upon me a curious reproof.

I had met at various times, in the Eternal City and elsewhere, a rising young professor and officer of Harvard University; and, being one morning in Loescher's famous book-shop on the Corso, with a large number of purchases about me, this gentleman came in and, looking them over, was pleased to approve several of them. Presently, on showing him a volume just published and saying, ''There is the new volume of Villari's history,'' I p.r.o.nounced the name of the author with the accent on the first syllable, as any one acquainted with him knows that it ought to be p.r.o.nounced. At this the excellent professor took the book, but seemed to have something on his mind; and, having glanced through it, he at last said, rather solemnly, ''Yes; VillAri''--accenting strongly the second syllable--''is an admirable writer.'' I accepted his correction meekly and made no reply. A thing so trivial would not be worth remembering were it not one of those evidences, which professors from other inst.i.tutions in our country have not infrequently experienced, of a ''certain condescension''

in sundry men who do honor to one or two of our oldest and greatest universities.

Of all people at Rome I was most impressed by Marco Minghetti. A conversation with him I have given in another chapter.

Reminiscences of that first official life of mine at Berlin center, first of all, in Bismarck, and then in the two great rulers who have since pa.s.sed away--the old hero, Emperor William I, and that embodiment of all qualities which any man could ask for in a monarch, the crown prince who afterward became the Emperor Frederick III.

Both were kindly, but the latter was especially winning.

At different times I had the pleasure of meeting and talking with him on various subjects; but perhaps the most interesting of these interviews was one which took place when it became my duty to conduct him through the American exhibit in the International Fisheries Exhibition at Berlin.

He had taken great interest in developing the fisheries along the northern coast of Germany, and this exhibition was the result. One day he sent the vice-chancellor of the empire to ask me whether it was not possible to secure an exhibit from the United States, and especially the loan of our wonderful collections from the Smithsonian Inst.i.tution and from the Fisheries Inst.i.tution of Wood's Holl {sic}.

To do this was difficult. Before my arrival an attempt had been made and failed. Word had come from persons high in authority at Washington that Congress could not be induced to make the large appropriation required, and that sending over the collections was out of the question.

I promised to do what I could; and, remembering that Fernando Wood of New York was chairman of the Committee of Ways and Means in the House, and that Governor Seymour, then living in retirement near Utica, was his old political a.s.sociate, and especially interested in re- stocking the waters of New York State with fish, I sent the ex-governor a statement of the whole case, and urged him to present it fully to Mr. Wood. Then I wrote in the same vein to Senator Conkling, and, to my great satisfaction, carried the day. The appropriation was made by Congress; and the collections were sent over under the control of Mr. Brown Goode of the Smithsonian, perhaps the most admirable man who could have been chosen out of the whole world for that purpose. The prince was greatly delighted with all he saw, showed remarkable intelligence in his questions, and, thanks to Mr. Goode's a.s.sistance, he received satisfactory answers. The result was that the American exhibit took the great prize--the silver- gilt vase offered by the Emperor William, which is now in the National Museum at Washington.

The prince showed a real interest in everything of importance in our country. I remember his asking me regarding the Brooklyn Bridge--how it could possibly be sustained without guy-ropes. Of course it was easy to show him that while in the first of our great suspension- bridges--that at Niagara--guy-ropes were admissible, at Brooklyn they were not: since ships of war as well as merchant vessels of the largest size must pa.s.s beneath it; and I could only add that Roebling, who built it, was a man of such skill and forethought that undoubtedly, with the weight he was putting into it and the system of trusses he was placing upon it, no guy-ropes would be needed.

On many occasions the prince showed thoughtful kindness to members of my family as well as to myself, and the news of his death gave me real sorrow. It was a vast loss to his country; no modern monarch has shown so striking a likeness to Marcus Aurelius.

Hardly less hearty and kindly was the Emperor then reigning--William I. Naturally enough, he remembered, above all who had preceded me, Mr. Bancroft. His first question at court generally was, ''How goes it with your predecessor? (Wie geht es mit Ihrem Vorg

he meant Bancroft. When I once told him that Mr.

Bancroft, who was not far from the old Kaiser's age, had bought a new horse and was riding a.s.siduously every day, the old monarch laughed heartily and dwelt on his recollections of my predecessor, with his long white beard, riding through the Thiergarten.

Pleasant to me was the last interview, on the presentation of my letter of recall. It was at Babelsberg, the Emperor's country-seat at Potsdam; and he detained me long, talking over a mult.i.tude of subjects in a way which showed much kindly feeling. Among other things, he asked where my family had been staying through the summer. My answer was that we had been at a hotel near the park or palace of Wilhelmshhe above Ca.s.sel; and that we all agreed that he had been very magnanimous in a.s.signing to the Emperor Napoleon III so splendid a prison and such beautiful surroundings. To this he answered quite earnestly, ''Yes; and he was very grateful for it, and wrote me to say so; but, after all, that is by no means the finest palace in Germany.'' To this I answered, ''Your Majesty is entirely right; that I saw on visiting the palace of Wrzburg.'' At this he laughed heartily, and said, ''Yes, I see that you understand it; those old prince-bishops knew how to live.'' As a matter of fact, various prince-bishops in the eighteenth century impoverished their realms in building just such imitations of Versailles as that sumptuous Wrzburg Palace.

He then asked me, ''On what ship do you go to America?'' and I answered, ''On the finest ship in your Majesty's merchant navy--the Elbe.'' He then asked me something about the ship; and when I had told him how beautifully it was equipped,--it being the first of the larger ships of the North German Lloyd,--he answered, ''Yes; what is now doing in the way of shipbuilding is wonderful. I received a letter from my son, the crown prince, this morning, on that very subject. He is at Osborne, and has just visited a great English iron-clad man-of-war. It is wonderful; but it cost a million pounds sterling.'' At this he raised his voice, and, throwing up both hands, said very earnestly, ''We can't stand it; we can't stand it.''

After this and much other pleasant chat, he put out his hand and said, ''Auf Wiedersehen''; and so we parted, each to take his own way into eternity.

The other farewells to me were also gratifying. The German press was very kindly in its references to my departure; and just before I left Berlin a dinner was given me in the great hall of the Kaiserhof by leading men in parliamentary, professional, literary, and artistic circles. Kindly speeches were made by Gneist, Camphausen, Delbrck, George von Bunsen, and others--all forming a treasure in my memory which, as long as life lasts, I can never lose.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

MY RECOLLECTIONS OF BISMARCK--1879-1881

My first glimpse of Bismarck was obtained during one of my journeys through middle Germany, about the time, I think, of the Franco-Prussian War. Arriving at the Kissingen junction, we found a crowd gathered outside the barriers, and all gazing at a railway-carriage about to be attached to our train. Looking toward this, I recognized the face and form of the great North-German statesman. He was in the prime of life--st.u.r.dy, hearty, and happy in the presence of his wife and children. The people at the station evidently knew what was needed; for hardly had he arrived when waiters appeared, bearing salvers covered with huge mugs of foaming beer. Thereupon Bismarck took two of the mugs in immediate succession; poured their contents down his throat, evidently with great gusto; and a burly peasant just back of me, unable longer to restrain his admiration, soliloquized in a deep, slow, guttural, reverberating rumble: ''A-a-a-ber er sieht sehr-r-r gut aus.'' So it struck me also; the waters of Kissingen had evidently restored the great man, and he looked like a t.i.tan ready for battle.

My personal intercourse with him began in 1879, when, as chancellor of the German Empire, he received me as minister of the United States. On my entering his workroom, he rose; and it seemed to me that I had never seen another man so towering save Abraham Lincoln. On either side of him were his two big, black dogs, the Reichshunde; and, as he put out his hand with a pleasant smile, they seemed to join kindly in the welcome.

His first remark was that I seemed a young man to undertake the duties of a minister, to which I made the trite reply that time would speedily cure that defect. The conversation then ran, for a time, upon commonplace subjects, but finally struck matters of interest to both our countries.

There were then, as ever since, a great number of troublesome questions between the two nations, and among them those relating to Germans who, having gone over to the United States just at the military age, had lived there merely long enough to acquire citizenship, and had then hastened back to Germany to enjoy the privileges of both countries without discharging the duties of either. These persons had done great harm to the interests of bona-fide German-Americans, and Bismarck evidently had an intense dislike for them. This he showed then and afterward; but his tendencies to severity toward them were tempted {sic} by the minister of foreign affairs, Von Blow, one of the most reasonable men in public business with whom I have ever had to do, and father of the present chancellor, who greatly resembles him.

But Bismarck's feeling against the men who had acquired American citizenship for the purpose of evading their duties in both countries did not prevent his taking a great interest in Germans who had settled in the United States and, while becoming good Americans, had preserved an interest in the Fatherland. He spoke of these, with a large, kindly feeling, as const.i.tuting a bond between the two nations. Among other things, he remarked that Germans living in the United States become more tractable than in the land of their birth; that revolutionists thus become moderates, and radicals conservatives; that the word Einigkeit (union) had always a charm for them; that it had worked both ways upon them for good, the union of States in America leading them to prize the union of states in Germany, and the evils of disunion in Germany, which had been so long and painful, leading them to abhor disunion in America.

The conversation then fell into ordinary channels, and I took leave after another hearty shake of the hand and various kind a.s.surances. A few days later came an invitation to dinner with him; and I prized this all the more because it was not to be an official, but a family dinner, and was to include a few of his most intimate friends in the ministry and the parliament. On the invitation it was stated that evening dress was not to be worn; and on my arrival, accompanied by Herr von Schltzer, at that time the German minister in Washington, I found all the guests arrayed in simple afternoon costume. The table had a patriarchal character. At the head sat the prince; at his side, in the next seat but one, his wife; while between them was the seat a.s.signed me, so that I enjoyed to the full the conversation of both. The other seats at the head of the table were occupied by various guests; and then, scattered along down, were members of the family and some personages in the chancery who stood nearest the chief. The conversation was led by him, and soon took a turn especially interesting. He asked me whether there had ever been a serious effort to make New York the permanent capital of the nation. I answered that there had not; that both New York and Philadelphia were, for a short period at the beginning of our national history, provisional capitals; but that there was a deep-seated idea that the permanent capital should not be a commercial metropolis, and that unquestionably the placing of it at Washington was decided, not merely by the central position of that city, but also by the fact that it was an artificial town, never likely to be a great business center; and I cited Thomas Jefferson's saying, ''Great cities are great sores.'' He answered that in this our founders showed wisdom; that the French were making a bad mistake in bringing their national legislature back from Versailles to Paris; that the construction of the human body furnishes a good hint for arrangements in the body politic; that, as the human brain is held in a strong inclosure, and at a distance from the parts of the body which are most active physically, so the brain of the nation should be protected with the greatest care, and should not be placed in the midst of a great, turbulent metropolis. To this I a.s.sented, but said that during my attendance at sessions of the French legislative bodies, both in my old days at Paris and more recently at Versailles, it seemed to me that their main defects are those of their qualities; that one of the most frequent occupations of their members is teasing one another, and that when they tease one another they are wonderfully witty; that in the American Congress and in the British Parliament members are more slow to catch a subtle comment or scathing witticism; that the members of American and British a.s.semblies are more like large grains of cannon- powder, through which ignition extends slowly, so that there comes no sudden explosion; whereas in the French a.s.sembly the members are more like minute, bright grains of rifle-powder, which all take fire at the same moment, with instant detonation, and explosions sometimes disastrous. He a.s.sented to this, but insisted that the curse of French a.s.semblies had been the tyranny of city mobs, and especially of mobs in the galleries of their a.s.semblies; that the worst fault possible in any deliberative body is speaking to the galleries; that a gallery mob is sure to get between the members and the country, and virtually screen off from the a.s.sembly the interests of the country.

To this I most heartily a.s.sented.

I may say here that there had not then been fully developed in our country that monstrous absurdity which we have seen in these last few years--national conventions of the two parties trying to deliberate in the midst of audiences of twelve or fifteen thousand people; a vast mob in the galleries, often noisy, and sometimes hysterical, frequently seeking to throw the delegates off their bearings, to outclamor them, and to force nominations upon them.

A little later, as we discussed certain recent books, I re- ferred to Jules Simon's work on Thiers's administration.

Bismarck said that Thiers, in the treaty negotiations at Versailles, impressed him strongly; that he was a patriot; that he seemed at that time like a Roman among Byzantines.

This statement astonished me. If ever there existed a man at the opposite pole from Bismarck, Thiers was certainly that man. I had studied him as a historian, observed him as a statesman, and conversed with him as a social being; and he had always seemed, and still seems, to me the most noxious of all the greater architects of ruin that France produced during the latter half of the nineteenth century--and that is saying much. His policy was to discredit every government which he found existing, in order that its ruins might serve him as a pedestal; and, while he certainly showed great skill in mitigating the calamities which he did so much to cause, his whole career was d.a.m.ning.

By his ''History of the French Revolution'' he revived the worst of the Revolution legend, and especially the deification of destructiveness; by his ''History of the Consulate and of the Empire,'' and his translation of the body of Napoleon to France, he effectively revived the Napoleonic legend. The Queen of the French, when escaping from the Tuileries in 1848, was entirely right in reproaching him with undermining the const.i.tutional monarchy of 1830; and no man did more than he to arouse and maintain the anti-German spirit which led to the Franco-Prussian War.

By his writings, speeches, and intrigues he aided in upsetting, not only the rule of the Bourbons in 1830, but the rule of Louis Philippe in 1848, the Second Republic in 1851, and the Second Empire in 1870; and, had he lived, he would doubtless have done the same by the present Republic.

Louis Blanc, a revolutionist of another bad sort--so common in France--who can ruin but NOT restore, once said to me that Thiers's ''greatest power lay in his voicing average, unthinking, popular folly; so that after one of his speeches every fool in France would cry out with delight, ''Mais, voil

Doubtless Bismarck was impressed, for the time being, by Thiers's skill in negotiation; but it is perfectly evident, from the recollections of various officials since published, that his usual opinion of Thiers was not at all indicated by his remark above cited.

Later the conversation fell upon travel; and, as he spoke of his experiences in various parts of Europe, I recommended America to him as a new field of observation--alluding playfully to the city named after him, and suggesting that he take his family with him upon a large steamer, and, after seeing the more interesting things in the United States, pa.s.s on around the world, calling at the Samoan Islands, on which I had recently heard him speak in parliament. After some humorous objections to this plan, he said that early in life he had a great pa.s.sion for travel, but that upon his father's death he was obliged to devote himself to getting his estate in order; that ever since that time his political duties had prevented his traveling much; and that now he had lost the love of wandering, and in place of it had gained a desire to settle down in the midst of his family.

He spoke English so perfectly that I asked him how much time he had spent in England. He said, ''Very little--in fact, only two or three days.'' He had made but two short visits, one of them many years ago,--I think he said in 1842,--the other during the exposition of 1862. He seemed much struck with the beauty of England, and said that if his lot had been cast there he would have been very happy as an English country gentleman; that he could not understand how Englishmen are so p.r.o.ne to live outside of their own country. He spoke of various Englishmen, and referred to Lord Dufferin, who had dined with him the day before, as one of the most abstemious men he had ever seen, drinking only a little claret and water. Upon my speaking of the great improvement which I had noted in England during the last quarter of a century, so that the whole country was becoming more and more like a garden, he said that such a statement was hardly likely to please thinking Englishmen; that they could hardly be glad that England should become more and more like a garden; ''for,'' he said, ''feeding a great nation from a garden is like provisioning an army with plum cake.''

He then dwelt on the fact that Great Britain had become more and more dependent for her daily bread on other countries, and especially on the United States.

The conversation next turned to the management of estates, and he remarked, in a bluff, hearty way, that his father had desired him to become a clergyman; that there was a pastor's living, worth, if I remember rightly, about fifteen hundred thalers a year, which his father thought should be kept in the family. This led to some amusing conversation between him and the princess on what his life would have been under such circ.u.mstances, ending by his saying jocosely to her, ''You probably think that if I had become a pastor I would have been a better man.'' To which she answered that this she would not say; that it would not be polite. ''But,'' she continued, ''I will say this: that you would have been a happier man.''

He referred to some of my predecessors, speaking very kindly of Bayard Taylor and George Bancroft; but both he and the princess dwelt especially upon their relations with Motley. The prince told me of their life together at Gttingen and at Berlin, and of Motley's visits since, when he always became Bismarck's guest. The princess said that there was one subject on which it was always a delight to tease Motley--his suppressed novel ''Merrymount''; that Motley defended himself ingeniously in various ways until, at his last visit, being pressed hard, he declared that the whole thing was a mere myth; that he had never written any such novel.

The dinner being ended, our a.s.sembly was adjourned to the terrace at the back of the chancellor's palace, looking out upon the park in which he was wont to take his famous midnight walks. Coffee and cigars were brought, but for Bismarck a pipe with a long wooden stem and a large porcelain bowl. It was a ma.s.sive affair; and, in a jocose, apologetic way, he said that, although others might smoke cigars and cigarettes, he clung to the pipe--and in spite of the fact that, at the Philadelphia Exposition, as he had heard, a great German pipe was hung among tomahawks, scalping-knives, and other relics of barbarism. From time to time a servant refilled his pipe, while he discoursed upon various subjects--first upon the condition of America and of Germany; then upon South American matters, and of the struggle between Chile and other powers. He showed great respect for the Chileans, and thought that they manifested really sterling qualities.

He spoke of ship-building, and showed, as it seemed to me, rather a close knowledge of the main points involved.

He referred to the superiority of Russian ships, the wood used being more suitable than that generally found elsewhere.

As to American ships, he thought they were built, as a rule, of inferior woods, and that their reputation had suffered in consequence.

The conversation again falling upon public men, a reference of mine to Gladstone did not elicit anything like a hearty response; but the mention of Disraeli seemed to arouse a cordial feeling.

Among the guests was Lothar Bucher, whom Bismarck, in earlier days, would have hanged if he had caught him, but who had now become the chancellor's most confidential agent; and, as we came out together, Bucher said: ''Well, what do you think of him?'' My answer was: ''He seems even a greater man than I had expected.'' ''Yes,'' said Bucher; ''and I am one of those who have suffered much and long to make him possible.'' I said: ''The result is worth it, is it not?'' ''Yes,'' was the reply; ''infinitely more than worth it.''