This was the first meeting between the King William, afterwards to be, and his Bismarck; the first scarcely expected ever to wear a crown, but Bismarck most certainly never thought that he should be that King’s powerful Premier and most faithful servant.

One evening Bismarck appeared in the saloons of Madame von Kessel, quiet, in low spirits, his hair, smoothly combed down, a melancholy mode of “Frisur,” wearing a long waistcoat of woollen stuff, in trowsers of large pattern, checked blue and green; in short, his plight was one of the most comical kind. In a gentle conciliatory way he accepted all the jokes it created, and patiently allowed a sketch of himself to be taken in this costume. This caricature is still in the possession of the family, and is highly characteristic. About a year afterwards, his cousin, Helene von Kessel, herself a skillful artist, painted a portrait of him; this very excellent likeness displays his bountiful head of hair, and forms a striking contrast to the “Three Hairs,” with which the Berlin Punch, “Kladderadatsch,” usually endows the Premier. This cousin, Helene von Kessel, at present a canoness at Lindow, remained during her whole life on the most intimate terms with the Minister-President. Once, on taking a journey for some weeks into Pomerania, his cousin begged him to take a letter for her and deliver it. He took it; but when he returned, and she asked him about it, he looked in his pockets; he happened to have the same coat on, and brought out the letter, but, with great presence of mind, declared that he had not delivered it in order to entirely cure his cousin of the habit of intrusting him with letters. Among the surprises he delighted to prepare, some were very curious. Thus, on one occasion, at Kniephof, he was in deep conversation with his cousins, when the door suddenly opened, and four young foxes dashed into the room, and in their terror they jumped upon the sofas and chairs till they tore them to rags. The company, after their first surprise, could not help bursting into a scream of laughter.

In the year 1836, Referendarius von Bismarck left the Department of Justice for that of Administration. As a future diplomatist, it was necessary to serve in that; therefore he went to Aachen (Aix la Chapelle) to the Crown Court. Count Arnim-Boytzenburg was at that time President; he possessed a great reputation, and Bismarck hoped that he should be able to effect a conjunction with this rising star, and follow in his course. He was received by the Arnim family with great kindness, and at first was very industrious; but he soon was carried into the vortex of society which existed during the season at the celebrated baths of the Imperial city. He associated much with Englishmen, Frenchmen, and Belgians, and in their company made several excursions to Belgium, France, and the Rhine province. He was especially the favorite of the English, as they were delighted to find in him an amiable gentleman, possessing a perfect mastery over their language. These connections, however, got him into many scrapes.

He, in consequence, quitted “het ryk van Aaken” (the realm of Aachen), and, in the autumn of 1837, had himself transferred to the Crown Office at Potsdam. About the same time, in 1838, he entered the JÄger Guard, to fulfill his military duties. But the merry mess-room life did not last long, and in the same year he exchanged into the second battalion of JÄger, at Greifswald, hoping to attend the lectures of the Agricultural Academy of Eldena.

To such studies he was compelled by the sad state into which the administration of the paternal estates in Pomerania had fallen, and which threatened total ruin. On this account the sons proposed to their father to grant them the Pomeranian estates, as the only way in which the estates could be saved. His parents acceded to the proposition, and retired to SchÖnhausen, under the faithful care of Bellin, to there pass the evening of their lives. His father continued to reside there until 1845; but his mother, long an invalid, sought better medical attendance in Berlin, and died in that city on the 1st of November, 1839.

At first, the elder brother, Bernhard von Bismarck, undertook the sole administration of the estates, Otto remaining until the end of his year of service, until Easter, 1839, at Greifswald, but he soon perceived that it was impossible to combine the military service with agricultural studies. He soon fell into wild student ways again, there being nothing better to do in that place.

In the summer of 1839 Bismarck entered on the administration of the Pomeranian estates, and carried it on, in conjunction with his brother, until the summer of 1841. At this time the elder brother was elected Landrath of the circle of Naugard, married, and settled in the chief town. By this the common household of Kniephof was broken up; and they divided the estates in such a manner that the elder brother retained KÜlz, the younger receiving Kniephof and Jarchelin.

The younger brother had already desired to divide the estates, as he spent more than his elder brother, and the income of the common treasury therefore fell short. Until his marriage, Bernhard would not consent to this, the brotherly affection between them having always been very sincere.

Bismarck became Deputy to the circle in his brother’s place, and in that capacity conducted the management of Naugard, and was chosen representative in the Provincial Pomeranian Diet; but, after the first session, wearied by the unimportant duties assigned to him, he resigned his functions; his place was filled by his brother.

When Bismarck, at the age of twenty-three, in the most pressing circumstances, without credit or capital, undertook the conduct of the wasted estates, he evinced prudence and activity, and, as long as bitter want pressed upon him, he found solace in agricultural activity; but when, by his means, the estates began to rise in value, and every thing went on smoothly, and he was able to rely upon able subordinates, the administration gave him less satisfaction, and he felt the circle in which he moved too contracted for him. In his youthful fancy, he had formed a certain ideal of a country Junker; hence he had no carriage, performed all his journeys on horseback, and astonished the neighborhood by riding six to ten miles[29] to evening assemblies in Polzin. Despite of his wild life and actions, he felt a continually increasing sense of loneliness; and the same Bismarck who gave himself to jolly carouses among the officers of the neighboring garrisons, sank, when alone, into the bitterest and most desolate state of reflection. He suffered from that disgust of life common to the boldest officers at certain times, and which has been called “first lieutenant’s melancholy.” The less real pleasure he had in his wild career, the madder it became; and he earned himself a fearful reputation among the elder ladies and gentlemen, who predicted the moral and pecuniary ruin of “Mad Bismarck.”

The mansion of Kniephof is pleasantly situated, but was built in a very simple style by its first possessor, the brave Cavalry Colonel Frederick August, who lay in garrison at that time at Gollnow, hard by, and who personally superintended its construction. The whole arrangements of the dwelling—little changed to this day—are of the sober simplicity of the era of Frederick William I. The then Major von Bismarck had purchased these estates chiefly to gratify his passion for the chase, for game then abounded on it, especially deer, very few of which remained when his grandson, Otto, came to reside there.

Kniephof did not then behold stag huntings with horses and mastiffs, as in the previous century. But strange scenes occurred when the youthful owner, tortured by dark thoughts, dashed restlessly, to kill time, through the fields, sometimes in solitude, and sometimes in the company of gay companions and guests; so that Kniephof became a Kneiphof far and wide in the land.[30] Strange stories were current about their nocturnal carouses, at which none could equal “Mad Bismarck” in emptying the great beaker filled with porter and champagne. Tales of a wild character were whispered in the circles of shuddering ladies—the power of imagination being rife in dear old Pomerania. At each mad adventure, each wild burst of humor, a dozen myths started up, sometimes of a comical, sometimes a terrible character, until the little mansion of Kniephof or “Kneiphof” was looked upon as haunted. But the ghosts must have had tolerably strong nerves, for the guests, slumbering with nightcaps of porter and champagne, were often roused by pistol-shots, the bullets whistling over their heads, and the lime from their ceilings tumbling into their faces.

And yet the guests at this time relate that they were “miserably” bored at Bismarck’s nocturnal political discussions with his intimate friends, Dewitz of Mesow and BÜlow of Hoffelde—so different in character, but so inseparable from him. Young gentlemen in those days were not so accustomed to political discussions as the youth of our time, and political parties were then nearly unknown. It should be stated, however, that Otto von Bismarck, despite his wild life, stood in high consideration, and he was heard with avidity, though the affair might be “miserably” tedious. “He made an impression on all of us—and I think at that time he was somewhat of a liberal!” a companion of those days told us, who complained of being “wretchedly bored” amongst the rest. The estimation in which Bismarck was held was in nowise confined to youth; grave men of position, in a greater or less degree, felt that from this fermenting mass would be formed an excellent and strong wine. Many of the electors desired to nominate him for the Landrath, but Bismarck, decidedly enough, refused this.

And then there came a day, on which the furious revelry of “Kneiphof” was silent; the old mansion, as if by enchantment, grew quiet and respectable, so that the world was first astonished and then whispered, “A lady will become mistress of Kniephof!”

But no lady appeared at Kniephof—it was a mistake, perhaps a disappointment. It was then said, “Bismarck is going to India!” He did not go, though, perhaps, he for a time desired to do so.

For the rest, it must be said that Bismarck fought chivalrously with the demons around him. He read much, and continually received parcels of books from his bookseller, chiefly historical works, but also theological and philosophical works. Spinoza he studied deeply. The melancholy he had contracted by the events which befell him on the Rhine, he strove to dissipate by travelling. About this time he visited France and England; he even resumed the position of Referendarius under the Crown at Potsdam, and was very industrious; his friends, among whom were Baron Senfft von Pilsach, afterwards Chief President of Pomerania, and his brother, considering him remarkably adapted for the services of the State, although at that time he assumed a very surly attitude in reference to the bureaucracy. It was probably about this time, at a party, where his President somewhat slighted him, as he was inferior to him as an official, that he begged the President in a friendly way to consider that in society Herr von Bismarck was as good as Herr von Anybody Else—which scarcely pleased the President. Another of his chiefs once pretended not to notice the presence of Bismarck, went to the window and began drumming with his fingers, whereupon Bismarck went to the window and stood beside him, drumming the Dessau March. It was very likely the same official who allowed Bismarck to wait in the antechamber for an hour, and received the answer to his short question “What do you want?”—“I came here to beg for leave of absence, and now demand leave to resign.” To about this time may be referred a report of Bismarck’s as to certain expropriations, which attained much celebrity. He might have been appointed Landrath in Posen or Prussia Proper, had he been willing to go. In this report Bismarck freely and faithfully spoke his opinion as to the injustice of many expropriations, and his friends still quote the classical phrase, “You could not pay it me in cash, if you were to turn the park of my father into a carp lake, or the grave of my deceased aunt into an eel swamp!”

He decided in the end to go to SchÖnhausen, and become Landrath in the original seat of his race. His father was ready to resign SchÖnhausen to him, but this plan also failed. In the autumn of 1844, on the 30th of October, he had the delight, after his return from a longer journey, to betroth his only sister Malwina, to whom he was ever affectionately attached, to the friend of his youth, the Landrath of AngermÜnde, Oscar von Arnim. The affection of the brother and sister, people proverbially compared to that of a bridegroom to a bride.

After the death of his father, which took place in November, 1845, the sons so divided the property, that the elder retained KÜlz and received Jarchelin, the younger retaining Kniephof and adding to it SchÖnhausen. From that time Bismarck resided in SchÖnhausen, became Dyke Captain there, and afterwards Knight’s Deputy in the circle of Jerichow in the Saxon Provincial Diet at Merseburg. In that capacity he attended the first meeting of the United Diets in 1847, on which occasion he first attracted the notice of the public to himself in more extended circles.

We shall now give some letters written by Bismarck to his sister at this troubled time, as they afford an insight into his peculiarities. We called this a troubled time, as the management of Kniephof and Jarchelin afforded him no satisfaction, for we find him continually flitting about between Pomerania, SchÖnhausen, and Berlin. In Berlin itself he changed his residence very often. On the morning of such removal he used to say abruptly to his servant, “Bring all my things to No. so-and-so, in so-and-so Street; I shall be there by bed-time.” The things were placed on tables, chairs, and sofa, spread out; for Bismarck loved, as he said, to hold a review of his worldly possessions.

We must add that the disquiet he then suffered had a particular reason, and we shall find some allusions to this in his letters.

In the course of this year Bismarck obtained his first decoration, for many years the only one which graced his breast, but which he wears to this day beside the stars of the highest Orders of Christendom. In the summer of 1842, he was on duty as Cavalry Officer with the Stargard Landwehr Squadron of Uhlans, in exercise at Lippehne, in the Neumark, and one afternoon was standing with other officers on the bridge over the lake, when his groom Hildebrand, the son of the forester on his estate, rode one of the horses to water and for a bath in the lake, close by the bridge. Suddenly the horse lost footing, and as the terrified horseman clung tight to the bridle, it fell, and Hildebrand disappeared in the water. A terrible cry of horror resounded; Bismarck threw off his sword in an instant, tore off his uniform, and dashed headlong into the lake to save his servant. By great good fortune he seized him, but the man clung to him so fast in his death agony, that he had to dive before he could loose himself from him. The crowd stood in horror on the shore; master and servant were both given up for lost—bubbles rose to the surface, but the powerful swimmer had succeeded in releasing himself from the deadly embrace of the drowning man; he rose to the surface, raising his servant with him. He also brought him safely to land, of course in an inanimate condition; but Hildebrand soon recovered, and the following day was well. This little town, some of the inhabitants of which had witnessed the brave rescue, was in great commotion; they expressed their feelings by the Superintendent meeting the noble rescuer in full official dress, and wishing him happiness for the mercy of the Almighty. Hence he obtained the simple medallion “for rescue from danger,” the well-known Prussian Safety Medal, which may be seen beside so many exalted stars on the breast of the Minister-President. Bismarck is proud of this mark of honor, and when on one occasion a noble diplomatist, perhaps not without a tinge of satire, asked him the meaning of this modest decoration, then his only one, he at once replied: “I am in the habit sometimes of saving a man’s life!” The diplomatist abased his eyes before the stern look which accompanied the lightly spoken words of Bismarck.

In the spring of 1843, Lieutenant von Bismarck sought and obtained permission from the Landwehr Battalion of Stargard to enter the 4th Uhlans (now the 1st Pomeranian Regiment, Uhlans, No. 4), then in garrison at Treptow and Greiffenberg, and do some months’ duty. Bismarck certainly aimed, when he entered this regiment, to serve as an officer in the active army, and to become acquainted with the regular routine of duty, although he did not say so, and allowed the officers of Uhlans to believe that he had only been induced by their agreeable society to join them. It is true he lived with them as a comrade, and often entertained them, almost every Saturday, as his guests at Kniephof; but they had frequently been his guests before, and afterwards they became so constantly. The Regimental Commandant, at that time, of the 4th Uhlans, was Lieutenant-Colonel von Plehwe, who fell in a duel as General, a person well known in many circles, and of a very distinguished character. Plehwe was one of the few important men, without an idea of what there was “in” the wild Landwehr Lieutenant, who joined his regiment in so strange a manner, for he did not know how to deal with Bismarck in any way. Half-way between Treptow, where the staff of the regiment was quartered, and Greiffenberg, where Bismarck lay, was a rendezvous known as “The Golden Dog” (Zum Goldenen Mops); to this place the severe Regimental Commandant was accustomed to summon the officers of Greiffenberg when he wanted to treat them to—compliments, or rather the very opposite to compliments. Oh! how often did Lieutenant von Bismarck ride to “The Golden Dog” upon his Caleb!

Caleb was Bismarck’s favorite charger; a dark chestnut, not very handsome, but a good hunter; the warmer the work the more furious his pace. Caleb has carried his master at such speed impossible to relate without being supposed guilty of fabulation; but these rides were nevertheless true, according to the most credible witnesses. It was Caleb who bore Bismarck on that wild ride when the stirrup flew up to the epaulet. How it happened, who can tell?—but the fact is sure.

Although Von Plehwe may have summoned Lieutenant von Bismarck a few times too often to “The Golden Dog,” although he may have been commanded to appear in full regimentals on more occasions than was necessary, Bismarck even now tells his former comrades in the 4th Uhlans, “I spent a very pleasant time with you!” He still chuckles with satisfaction at the little practical joke when, in company with other officers, he seated himself, smoking a cigar, on the bench before the Burgomaster of Treptow’s house. This official was an enemy of tobacco, and officers were even then forbidden to smoke in the streets. It was in vain that the Burgomaster, who in other things was a very excellent man, informed them that it was no hotel, but the Burgomaster’s house; Bismarck remained immovable, until the severe Commandant appeared in full uniform, and raised the tobacco blockade.

During the Christmas holidays of 1844, there was a dinner-party at the house of the youthful Frau von Blanckenburg, at Cardemin in Pomerania. This pious and intellectual lady—born a Von Thadden-Triglaff—had great influence over Bismarck, and had confirmed the ancient family friendship between the Blanckenburgs and the Bismarcks. After dinner four gentlemen sat in the Red Saloon under the lamp, who were to meet again after many years, although in different positions, but still fighting on the same side. Next to the host, the retired Examiner, Moritz von Blanckenburg, sat Otto von Bismarck, then in the same official position; beside the latter, Major von Roon, whose cradle was also in Pomerania; and, last, Dr. Theodor Beutner, since 1855 editor-in-chief of the “New Prussian Gazette,” popularly known as the Kreuzzeitung, from the cross on the title-leaf.

CHAPTER III.
BETROTHAL AND MARRIAGE.
[1847.]

Falls in Love.—Johanna von Putkammer.—Marriage.—Meets King Frederick William IV.—Birth of his First Child.—SchÖnhausen and Kniephof with a New Mistress.