sentiment d'un grave tort fait à l'armée russe après sa campagne sanglante de 1877, pour lequel elle veut sa revanche. Et nous voilà ensemble avec cette maudite République Française, pleins de haine contre vous et rempli d'idées subversives, qui en cas de guerre avec vous, nous coûteront notre dynastie."[1]

A prophetic foreshadowing of the downfall of the reigning Russian dynasty!

From Brest I went to Strassburg, where my grandfather was attending the Imperial maneuvers. In spite of the failure of my mission I found calm judgments of the political situation. My grandfather was pleased at the cordial greetings from the Tsar, which, in so far as the personal relationship of the two rulers was concerned, showed no change of heart. Also, to my surprise, I received a letter from Prince Bismarck wherein he expressed gratitude and appreciation to me for my actions and my report. This meant all the more since my statements could not have been agreeable to my grandfather and the Chancellor. The Congress of Berlin had, especially in Russian military circles, done away with the remnants of the brotherhood in arms still fostered among us and had engendered a hatred against everything Prussian and German, stirred up by association with French officers, which was increased by the French until it developed into the desire of vengeance by means of arms. That was the soil in which, later, the World War ambitions of our foes found nourishment. "Revanche pour Sedan," combined with "Revanche pour San Stefano." The words of the old General at Brest have remained unforgettably engraved upon my memory; they induced me to bring about my many meetings with Alexander III and Nicholas II, at which my grandfather's wish, impressed upon me on his deathbed, that I watch over our relations with Russia, has always been my guiding motive.

RELIEF AT CHANCELLOR'S DISMISSAL

In 1890, at the Narva maneuvers, I was obliged to describe minutely to the Tsar the retirement of Prince Bismarck. The Tsar listened very attentively. When I had finished, the usually very cool and reserved sovereign, who seldom spoke about politics, spontaneously seized my hand, thanked me for this token of my confidence, regretted that I had been brought into such a situation and added, in exactly these words: "Je comprends parfaitement ta ligne d'action; le Prince avec toute sa grandeur n'était après tout rien d'autre que ton employé ou fonctionnaire. Le moment où il réfusait d'agir selon tes ordres, il fallait le renvoyer. Moi pour ma part je me suis toujours méfié de lui, et je ne lui ai jamais cru un mot de ce qu'il faisait savoir ou me disait lui-même, car j'étais sûr et savais qu'il me blaguait tout le temps. Pour les rapports entre nous deux, mon cher Guillaume [this was the first time that the Tsar so addressed me], la chute du Prince aura les meilleures conséquences, la méfiance disparaîtra. J'ai confiance en toi. Tu peux te fier à moi."[2]

I immediately wrote down this important talk at the time it occurred. I am objective enough to ask myself to what extent the courtesy of one ruler to another and possibly, in addition, the satisfaction at the elimination of a statesman of Bismarck's importance, can have influenced the Tsar, consciously or unconsciously, in making the above-mentioned statement. Prince Bismarck's belief in the Tsar's trust in him was, subjectively, undoubtedly genuine; and, moreover, there can be no doubt as to the esteem in which Alexander III held Bismarck's ability as a statesman.

In any event, the Tsar remained true to his word up to the day of his death. This, to be sure, did little to change Russia's general policy, but Germany, at least, was safe from an attack from that quarter. The straightforward character of Alexander III guaranteed this—it became otherwise under his weak son.

Whatever one's attitude may be toward Bismarck's Russian policy, one thing must be acknowledged: the Prince, despite the Congress of Berlin and the rapprochement of France to Russia, was able to avoid serious friction. That is equivalent to saying that, reckoning from the time of the Berlin Congress, he played a superior diplomatic and statesmanlike game for twelve years (1878-90).

GERMANY AS PEACEMAKER

One must also lay stress upon the fact that it was a German statesman who, in 1878, prevented a general war, even at the cost of weakening the relations of Germany to Russia, in the justified belief that he would succeed, being a statesman of genius who knew exactly what he was aiming at, in strengthening these relations once more, or, at least, in avoiding conflicts after he had overcome the crisis threatening all Europe.

He succeeded in doing that for twelve years and his successors at the helm of the ship of state succeeded in doing likewise for twenty-four more years.

When I was a Prince I purposely held aloof from party politics, concentrating my entire attention upon my duties in the different army branches to which I was assigned. This afforded me satisfaction and filled up my whole life. For this reason I avoided, while I was Prince of Prussia, all attempts to drag me into party activities. Often enough endeavors were made, under the cloak of harmless functions, teas and the like, to ensnare me into political circles or for electioneering purposes. But I always held aloof.

The outcome of the treacherous malady which killed Emperor Frederick III was frankly told me in advance by German physicians called into consultation as experts by the English physician, Sir Morell Mackenzie. My deep grief and sorrow were all the greater because it was almost impossible for me to speak alone with my beloved father. He was guarded like a prisoner by the English physicians and, though reporters from all countries could look upon the poor sick man from the physicians' room, every kind of obstacle was placed in my path to keep me from my father's side and even to prevent me from keeping in constant touch with him by writing; my letters were often intercepted and not delivered. Moreover, from among the group of watchers, an infamous, organized campaign of slander was conducted in the newspapers against me. Two journalists were especially active in this: one Herr Schnidrowitz and M. Jacques St. Cère, of the Figaro—a German Jew—who slandered him who was later Emperor in the most poisonous way in France, until the "Petit Sucrier" trial put an end to his activities.

I gave the dying Emperor his last joy on