LIST OF LARGER ILLUSTRATIONS.

EDITOR’S PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION.

The life of Count Bismarck has been so much misinterpreted, by interested and disinterested persons, that it is thought the present publication, which tells “a plain unvarnished tale,” will not be unwelcome. In these days of universal criticism, no person is exempt from the carping mood of the envious, or the facile unreasoning of the ready-made theorist. Should we feel disposed to credit vulgar report, noble motives and heroic lives are no longer extant in our present state of society. The eyes of detractors are everywhere curiously—too curiously—fixed upon the deeds of men of mark, and mingled feelings pull down from the pedestal of fame every man who has ascended to the eminence awarded to the patriot and statesman. Truly, such a condition of things bodes no good to the common weal of society, either in England, Prussia, or in any part of Europe. The present writer can see no utility in this practice of soiling the reputations and actions of men who, by slow degrees, have worked their way into positions of merit and mark.

The evil, however, does not wholly rest with the detractors. An erroneous theory about universal equality gives the spur to this spirit of criticism. A sort of feeling arises in the mind to the effect of, “Had I been in his place, I should have acted otherwise!”—the bystander proverbially seeing more of the game than the players. It is, however, a great matter of doubt whether this is universally true. It might be true, if every circumstance, every motive, every actuation, could be laid bare to positive vision. In the conduct of life, however, this is rarely possible, even in the crudest way; especially is it so in the intricate and tortuous paths of politics. Politicians, we all know, are many; statesmen, unfortunately for the well-being of the world, are few.

Some few years since England lost a statesman named Henry Temple, Viscount Palmerston. He had the rare happiness of being popular during his life, although it is perhaps more certain of him than of any modern statesman, that his inflexibility as to issues was remarkable. Apparently he would bend, but he had, upon fixed principles, determined to rule, and his happy method of conciliation, in which he was clad as in a garment, veiled from the eyes of friend or foe that wonderful spirit of determination permeating all the actions characterizing his political career. And when Palmerston died, a wild wail of sorrow arose from all England, a regret which will never be abated so long as England’s history remains intelligible.

Of similar materials to Palmerston, Count Bismarck is composed. Otherwise put together, it is true, in accordance with the genius of the nation amongst which his life-destiny has cast him; but as to the generic likeness there can be little doubt. The policy of Palmerston was “thorough;” so is that of Bismarck. But it is not the “thorough” of a Strafford; it is rather the enlightened “thorough” of a man cast into modern society, and intensely patriotic. Though Bismarck has consistently upheld the prerogatives of his royal master, he has not been neglectful of the interests of the nation of which he is the Minister. A spirit of candor breathes through all his actions, and displays him in the light of an emphatically honest man. Unlike the present remarkable occupant of the French throne, he is not tided along by public events; nor, like that potentate, does he extract fame from an adroit bowing to the exigencies of the hour. The French sovereign has eliminated a policy, and gained a kind of respect from others, in consequence of a masterly manipulation of passing occurrences. The Prussian Premier, on the other hand, has observed fixed principles. The latter has his political regrets—he can shed a tear over the grave of the meanest soldier who died at Sadowa. The former looks upon human life much as chess-players look upon pawns—to be ruthlessly sacrificed on occasion, should it happen that a skillful flank movement may protect the ultimate design in view. Chess-players, however, know that the pawns constitute the real strength of the game, and that it would be worse than folly to sacrifice the humble pieces. Political sagacity is ever displayed in judicious reserve, and this quality is eminently evinced in all Bismarck’s activity. Perhaps the most singular triumph of Bismarck’s life consists in the neutralization of Luxemburg—an episode in his career of which he has greater reason to be proud than of the battle-field of Sadowa, or the indirect countenance afforded by him to Italy. It can scarcely be doubted that so peaceful a victory is a greater merit than the massing together of thousands of armed men, for trying a right by ordeal of steel and gunpowder.

Astute as Napoleon may be, Bismarck certainly was wiser than he. The former has dynastic reasons for maintaining a pre-eminence in the face of Europe; but the latter, with comparatively inadequate means, had a far more difficult problem to solve. For Bismarck has a heart large enough to entertain feelings of kindliness towards the whole of Germany, as well as towards that section of it known as Prussia alone. There is a generous aspiration in him for German nationality, overruling petty animosity towards his enemies.

In all his contests he has ever been ready to hold out the hand of reconciliation, although, in no instance, has he deviated from the strict line of duty pointed out by his special nationality. Indeed, it was a paramount necessity to raise Prussia in the scale of nations, ere a German nationality could emerge into healthy political being. Prussia’s rise, therefore, comprehended within it the elements of German political existence. Geographically, the consolidation of a great kingdom in the north was a necessity; and considering how well and prudently Prussia has used its great position, no one can regret the result of the events of 1866. Prussia, as a Protestant country, as a land of education and intellectual refinement, has no equal on the face of the globe. But that single position depends on the race-character of the nation evinced in its utilitarian spirit. Bismarck will perpetuate his policy in time to come.

“Great acts,” says the old dramatist, “thrive when reason guides the will.” This application of reason, so continuously, consistently, and quietly exercised, predicates a great national future. That future is bound up with the fame of this great loyal statesman and dutiful subject, who has had insight enough to see how far the prerogative of the crown of Prussia was consistent with the happiness of its people, foresight enough to rationally contend for such prerogative, and faithful courage adequate to the fearless execution of a grand design, comprehending within itself elements of consolidation and enduring strength. What Germany owes to Bismarck can as yet be scarcely calculated, but very few years need elapse ere the sum will become intelligible.

It is, however, necessary to descend from generalities into particulars; to discuss, as briefly as may be, some objections that have been urged, and to expose the fallacy of certain historical parallels, sought to be drawn in reference to Bismarck’s position towards his king and his country.

We have not to contrast Bismarck with any hero or statesman of antiquity. Society, although not human nature, has so changed, that what our modern men do for the common weal changes with the circumstances and the extension of the circle of population. One man could then address a nation—now the nation must rely upon Camarillas. Democracy, in these days, either vaguely advocates desperate political experiments, or, stung to madness by real or fancied wrongs, determines them—as hot-headed non-thinkers usually determine—by violence.

Our modern Cleons use the press, which, truth to be spoken, is not unwilling to be used; and hence any thing not to be twisted before the law-courts into libel, represents the license and not the freedom of the press. But the man of antiquity at least had to exercise the courage of meeting his fellow-citizens, and thus either swayed them or was lost. Assent or dissent was given by acclamation. Bismarck presents rather a contrast than a likeness to Greek or Roman statesmen—they sought the Agora or the Forum; he has no time for claptrap.

But let us turn to the political doctrine, partly known as that of divine right, for which Bismarck has been thought to fight.

The doctrine of a divine right of possession to the Crown of Prussia is one not readily comprehensible to an English subject, under the circumstances of the modern constitution of the United Kingdom, for the reason that modern society has accustomed itself to look upon the results of the revolutions of 1649 and 1688 as final, and settled by events, and the contract entered into between the parliament, or representative body, on the one hand, and the constitutional sovereign on the other. We may recur to an earlier period, when the crown was devisable by will in England, or when at least the succession was settled in accordance with the desires of a dying sovereign, for some kind of parallel. Although this absolute right of leaving the crown by will has not often been exercised, it has found its defenders; for instance, in the case of Queen Jane, a minority held that Edward was justified in devising his crown; therefore, while the theory was not actually substantiated by the right of peaceable possession, it was not regarded as wholly illusory. If Henry VIII. might by his prerogative bar certain members of his family from the succession, the crown advisers of that day must have been justified in supporting such a prerogative, and could not have regarded the sovereign as ultra vires in the matter of a transmission of the crown. It is certainly, from the logic of facts, an impossibility to effect any such change in the order of succession now, and in itself would be as fatal a step as any political theorists could attempt; and if so fatal in a country where feudalism is a mere historical eidolon, how far more unwise in a country such as Prussia, where feudalism has still a practical, though not an avowed, existence? In the very nature of things, the sovereigns of Prussia hold their crown upon a principle of divine right, as proprietors of the fee-simple of the soil, which divine right has ever been construed to impose certain obligations towards their vassals, the holders of the usufruct, and their subjects, agents, and traders—which obligations, to their honor be it spoken, the sovereigns of Prussia have ever attempted to fulfill. This divine right differs in its nature and mode of action from the mere arbitrary will of a tyrant. There, as here—

Their divine right to the soil, which they swear to defend, and seek to improve, for the benefit of all, differs essentially from the divine right as understood by a Charles Stuart. Fiscal arrangements are again of a widely different character, and a vassal like Bismarck, who maintains the prerogative of his sovereign liege, is merely carrying the legitimate consequences of an enduring and progressive system, akin to, but not identical with, ancient feudal theories, into action. It is clearly false to seek a parallel in Charles and Strafford; the parallel would be more just if drawn between Henry and Wolsey. But parallels are ever suspicious, as the course of historical sequence is not identical, and presents only delusive points of contact.

Any adequate explanation must be sought in another direction, and that direction is best pointed out by the very essential features of Prussian history itself. From this cause, a prominence, by no means undeserved, has been assigned to the early history of the family whence Bismarck sprang. In the brief sketch given in the first book, it may be plainly seen that impulses of duty guided, and a kind of hierarchy of rank sustained, the active energy in the vassal on behalf of the sovereign, and that in fighting for the supremacy of the Prussian crown, Bismarck was at the same moment upholding the real solidarity and ultimate rights of the subjects of that crown. Surely by maintaining the rights of the father against all comers—those rights held by the father in trust—the interests of the children are best consulted.

For there is a mesne power between absolutism and republicanism, tyranny and democracy; this is not constitutionalism. This is honor, higher than all.

“The divinity that doth hedge a king,” from which a true king’s impulses flow, must be founded on a higher instinct, and derived from a higher plane. True kingship is very rare, often falls short of its standard in the very best of men—for humanity has always its faults; but rightly guided, it is possible, nay, probable, that the office of kingship may be justly and nobly exercised. A constitutional monarch, although irremovable, save by the process of revolution, can only be governed by the impulses of the man himself, while an absolute sovereign may arrest, correct, and mitigate much that is evil in the State. In civil affairs, we require such an ultimate personage, one whose honor and self-respect will be a sufficient safeguard against abuses. Any king not evidencing that honor in his private life as well as public acts, is liable, and justly so, to deposition; every king who faithfully performs the difficult and delicate duties of his position, has a right to expect the true and loving submission of his subjects. The combination of an honest minister with a noble-minded king, however, is rare. In Frederick the Second of Prussia, as to some extent in the first Napoleon, there was a will to be honest; but where the latter failed in his task, the former prevailed in the hearts of his people, and the admiration of the world. Have we not the exquisite book of Mr. Carlyle as evidence of it? Real statesmen know how infinitely difficult the problem of administration must be, and hence it is that so many real wrongs are accidentally committed, when the right is sought through the agency of unscrupulous ministers. The axiom that the king can do no wrong, simply means that if he inadvertently do a wrong, he is bound to repair it so soon as he is possessed of the truth of the wrong. On this fact—and no polity is built up with safety without resting on facts—is based the right of petition, as well in oriental as in occidental countries. Now, here is the political lever, nor is the stand-point far off. The king is bound to do justice, because his position, being founded on divine right, relies upon divine protection. In any country where God, under whatever form, is honored, no king, conscious of his deep obligations for his position, can hesitate to throw himself fearlessly into the midst of his subjects, always regarding such monarch, as is the case in Prussia, as the steward of the Unseen Governor of all. Legally and politically, the king represents the ultimate court of appeal, and honestly fulfilling the duties imposed upon him, no sovereign need fear, as in Prussia would be absurd, the hand of the assassin. It is the everlasting curse entailed upon large States, that for petty motives there exists an alarming system of bureaucracy, in which the voices of the honest servants are drowned in the din of the general throng for distinction, wealth, ease, and enjoyment. Hence public servants, of whatever degree, fear to speak; hence the public fumes, hence stoppage of trade, discredit by capitalists, ultimate want of employment, lassitude of patriotism, conspiracy, crime—with its load of expense—famine, and the fall of States ensue.

Now, a practical king, conscious of his office, and ablebodied enough to undergo the exertion, can be the greatest of philanthropists, if supported by an honest ministry, fearless enough to repress undue expenditure, either by his sovereign or the lieges. Wary to draw the sword, eager to substitute the ploughshare, should such a monarch be; and such a monarch we find in Prussia, and have found before. Fearless and honorable should be his minister; and such a minister we find, fortunately not without parallels, in Count Bismarck.

Bismarck had not only this abstract duty, as some may like to call it, to perform towards his own sovereign. There was another duty of no less importance and delicacy to fulfill as a German—as a member of the body corporate of the Teutonic nation. Had Austria continued in its peculiar position of pre-eminence, derived from an association of its rulers with the extinct Holy Roman Empire, the real power of self-government would have passed from the German nations to that mixture of Slavs and Czechs, Huns, Magyars, and Poles, making up so large a proportion of Austrian subjects; and could Prussia, emphatically German in all its regions, have permitted a supremacy so at variance with—I will not say common sense—but ethnical affinity? Is it not more in conformity with natural sympathy that the German kindred races of the north should be consolidated in a truly German national sense, than remain a loosely-constructed federation of petty princedoms, under the guidance of a power whose main strength lay in races alien, and even hostile, if we are to trust present events, in their interests, instincts, and sympathies?

There was, of course, underlying all this, the cardinal fact of a difference of religious sympathies. So eminently Roman Catholic, ruling over nations outwardly, and perhaps sincerely, attached to the Papal forms of ecclesiastical government and doctrine, Austria could not hold out a faithful hand of fellowship to Protestant Prussia, with its stern Calvinistic self-assertion: so attached to all that is ancient in reference to birth, family tradition, and historical fame, Austria could not but be jealous of a nation which had robbed it of its warlike glory, and set up a new nobility in opposition to its ancient semi-oriental princely families: so wedded to all that was archaic and statuesque in form and stationary in its character, how was it possible to tolerate a neighbor whose spirit is remarkable for its restless activity and love of innovation; so practical in science and utilitarian in its aims? A contest between two such powers, and in such a cause, and as a consequence of such various processes of development, was inevitable, while the ultimation of the strife could scarcely be doubtful. The imperial nation, so proud, profuse, and old-fashioned, must receive a lesson, intended in the utmost spirit of candor, from the patient, practical, and untiring nation of North Germany, who looked upon its sovereign and institutions with kindly affection, as the outcome of the labors of their immediate fathers, and to the fruits of which those subjects were honestly entitled. Nor, as having resided in both Prussia and Austria, am I disposed to think that Prussian tendencies do not receive hearty approval in the German sections of the Austrian people. Let the events accompanying the siege of Vienna, in 1848, be properly valued, and the fact is patent. The cowardice of Ferdinand is the key to the history of that siege, as well as its justification.

We have not here, however, so much to do with the policy of the Prussian people, and their relations towards Austria, as with a consideration of the effects wrought upon Bismarck’s mind by his position, education, personal character, and the events of his era. We here rather want to get an intelligible picture of Bismarck himself—to learn why Bismarck is the actual Bismarck he is, and not another Bismarck, as it were, altogether.

Let us therefore glance at his early life, and see how his strong, daring, and somewhat headlong youth has gradually moulded him into the astute, unbending, and progressive statesman we now see him to be in the latter days of his remarkable life.

The first thing that strikes us must be his opportunities of birth and of lineage. Education, it can not be doubted, is materially influenced by these two considerations. An indulgent father and an ambitious mother may help a lad along. Next comes the necessary process of estrangement; that emergence into actual life from which so few come forth proudly; and, finally, the attainment of self-consciousness, but without direction and without an aim. This usually results, as with Bismarck, in an appreciable amount of obloquy, from which the strong spirit desires emancipation. In the case now in point, his aspirations of the better sort had the mastery. Application to his distressed fortunes led him to think of others, and while he tested other men he applied the same stern acid to his own soul.

The empty affection of dissolutism assailed him, and he fled from it with the disgust of a noble mind: he longed for a more exquisite grace of beauty and dignity, and attained it. From that time forward he could apply; the serious element in his nature obtained the upper hand, and he perceived that life was not intended as a mere puppet scene. Patriotism, one of the grandest impulses of human nature, led him to a recognition of his duties as a man, and comforted in his domestic relations, he stood for his king. He became the king’s man—to that fealty he vowed himself, and that fealty he has nobly accomplished. He saw at once he was the king’s man, but policy he had none. Policy, of whatever sort it might prove to be, was yet to come; but the historical guide-line of a relation between the highest post of dignity and his own rank, fashioned it into a policy into which perforce the idea of aristocracy necessarily entered. Had Bismarck not been so vehemently attacked at the onset of his political and representative career, it is very probable that the stout resistance he made would not have proved so strenuous. But the attack was one which roused the dormant elements of his nature. Very proud, like most of the Pomeranian and Brandenburg Junkers, he resolved upon showing that his pride was not false, and was not so greatly leavened with personal ambition as some tauntingly averred. But it must be confessed that there is a vast difference between his early speeches and his later policy—in itself a proof that his career was not that of a political adventurer, resolved for notoriety at any price. The crudeness of his earlier speeches has formed an absolute boon to his opponents, who scarcely anticipated that a man who honestly cared for the point at issue, rather than the airing of a more or less inflated eloquence—seasoned with a philosophy of a very unpractical kind—was about to enter into the political arena. Looking at Bismarck in his earliest stages of development as a statesman, the present writer can not say there was much beyond a general adhesion to the Prussian traditions to recommend him. It is for this reason that certain documents have been reprinted in the latter pages of this book, not furnished by the German compiler. In these documents, appealing as they do to his family pride as a liegeman, may be found the key of Bismarck’s subsequent violent declaration on the side of the monarchy. “That a king should voluntarily propose to set aside what, in my contract, inherent in my birth, with that king, contravenes my family pride, makes me sorry for that king, but vehement against his advisers. But being sorry, I must fight for him, or his successors.”

Prussia was, like a nation or two more in Europe, in a “parlous state” in 1848. But these days of March were a natural result of facts pressing on the people: they passed, however. In those events, misunderstood even at the present time—misunderstood as all revolutions must be—Bismarck took no part save that of thinking that a replacement of the army by an ununiformed corps was another insult to Prussia—and her lieges.

His political education had advanced to a point when it would either resolve itself into a total abnegation of political activity, or an aspiration towards some ameliorations of the matter in hand. This signified itself, not by individual actions after a time, but rather by the centralization of a party existing in fortuitous atoms into clubs—adding the printing-press as a powerful aid.

Suddenly the ambassadorial post at Frankfurt was offered him. Light-hearted and willing—to all appearance—he accepted it. The world has yet to be made acquainted with the positive result of this Frankfurt mission. That his instructions were accurate there can be little doubt, and that all his energies were bent upon the humiliation of Austria as the powerful rival of Prussia, is equally true. That his diplomatic facility had at this time acquired any great amount of strength is doubtful. He was an excellent host, and a sincere adviser; but it is due to him rather again to cast away any delusion as to the diplomatic grandeur of his actions—unless, which may be the case, honesty pure and simple is diplomacy.

He therefore remained a good friend, a good host, a kind master, a most loving husband and brother. Perhaps nothing in connection with the man who has been thought so harsh, is so interesting as his care, his love, not only for his own family, but for his humbler dependents. In his correspondence, which really forms the feature of this volume, we find the careful and truthful expression of a mind seeking to set itself right with the world and its duties, and consistently adopting utter straightforwardness as the efficient means to this end. In times of trouble he sympathizes deeply with the bereaved; in seasons when most aspersed he shows a firm reliance on the goodness of his cause, and his innate sense of right; and he ever displays a confidence in the ultimate realization of the object held in view.

The various letters written during seasons of holiday travel display a keen delight in natural objects, and are written with a simple eloquence denoting frankness and candor.

Before closing this Preface, already somewhat lengthy, it is perhaps not out of place to refer to a recent review of the two first German sections of this book, in the October number of the Edinburgh Review. The reviewer will perceive that the blemishes to which he alludes have been removed, so far as may be, from the text. Any one, acquainted with German literature, is aware that its genius admits of the expression of many simple naïvetés, very far from consonant with the dignity and spirit of the English language. For these reasons a rearrangement and compression of the earlier parts of the book has been effected, and notes have been added of interest to the English reader, whose acquaintance with some of the personages named would necessarily be limited. Nothing, however, tending to illustrate the character and purposes of the chief personage, has been omitted. So far as the materials could serve, a faithful picture of Count Bismarck is here presented, and it is anticipated that the Prussian premier will be seen to far greater advantage than through the medium of the Edinburgh reviewer. That gentleman will perhaps forgive the writer for differing from him in his general estimate of Bismarck’s character. The estimate taken by the critic is very severe, and scarcely just. It is also so curious that the writer can not refrain from transcribing it here, that the reader may have both sides of the picture before him.

“To govern,” says the critic,[1] “is, according to his ideas, to command, and parliamentary government is to command with a flourish of speeches and debates, which should always end in a happy subserviency with the ruling minister. This arbitrary disposition is, of course, strengthened by his success of 1866; but he will be grievously deceived in believing that only stubborn resolution is wanted to triumph again. He is a man of the type of Richelieu and Pombal; but this style of statesmanship is rather out of place in our century, at least for obtaining a lasting success.

“We can not, therefore, consider him as a really great statesman, though he has certainly gifts of the highest order. He is a first rate diplomatist and negotiator. No man can captivate more adroitly those he wants to win; nobody knows better to strike at the right moment, or to wait when the tide is running in his favor. His personal courage is great, physically as well as morally; he shrinks from nothing conducive to his end. He is not naturally eloquent; but his speeches are generally impressive, and full of terse argument. He is a capital companion in society—witty, genial, sparkling in his conversation. His private life is pure; nobody has accused him of having used his high position for his pecuniary advantage. It is natural that such qualities, backed by an indomitable will, a strong belief in himself, and an originally robust constitution, should achieve much. But by the side of these virtues the darker shades are not wanting. We will not reproach him with ambition; it is natural that such a man should be ambitious. But his ambition goes far to identify the interests of his country with his own personal power. Every thing is personal with him; he never forgets a slight, and persecutes people who have offended him with the most unworthy malice. His strong will degenerates frequently into absurd obstinacy; he is feared by his subordinates, but we never heard that any body loved him. Driven into a strait, his courage becomes the reckless daring of the gambler, who stakes every thing on one card. He can tell the very reverse of the truth with an amazing coolness; still oftener he will tell the plain truth when he knows that he will not be believed. He is a great comedian, performing admirably the part he chooses to play. He knows how to flatter his interlocutors, by assuming an air of genuine admiration for their talents; they leave him charmed by his condescension, whilst he laughs at the fools who took his fine words for solid cash. His contempt of men is profound; he dislikes independence, though he probably respects it. There is not a single man of character left in the ministry or the more important places of the civil service(!). Few things or persons exist at which he would not venture a sneer.

“At present he has chosen to retire, for an indefinite period, from a perplexing situation which he has himself created. Nobody can tell in what direction he is going to steer his vessel. He likes to strike the imagination of the public by sudden resolutions. Nobody can prophesy what will be the final result of the great political experiment upon which he has entered, for it depends on the working of so many different factors, that even the boldest will scarcely venture to calculate the issue.”

Those passages italicized above form a specimen of the kind of attacks, by no means honorably or reasonably made, upon Count Bismarck, and it is somewhat lamentable to read, in the pages of so important a Review, views quite incompatible with truth, and so calculated to sway the minds of many who have little leisure to analyze historical phenomena.

Time has triumphantly cleared up much that seemed vaguely ominous in Bismarck’s policy, and the progress of events will doubtless throw clear light on that which still remains dark and unintelligible to those who care little for light.

KENNETH R. H. MACKENZIE.

4 St. Martin’s Place, Trafalgar Square,
6th December, 1869.

Book the First.
THE BISMARCKS OF OLDEN TIME.

CHAPTER I
NAME AND ORIGIN.

In the Alt Mark, belonging to the circle of Stendal, lies the small town of Bismarck on the Biese. It is an old and famous place, for south of the town stands an ancient tower, known as the Bismarck Louse. Tradition states that the tower received its name from a gigantic louse which inhabited it, and that the peasants of the district had every day to provide huge quantities of meat for the monster’s food. In this legend we can trace the popular spirit of the sober Alt Mark—it laughs at the pilgrimages which were made in the thirteenth century to Bismarck in honor of a holy cross, said to have fallen from heaven. These pilgrimages, at first greatly encouraged by the lords of the soil, as they found in them a rich source of income, soon came to a sanguinary end, from the severe strife occasioned by these very revenues.

Bismarck does not, as some assert, derive its name from the Biese, because in the year 1203, when it is first mentioned in the records, it is called Biscopesmarck, or Bishopsmark, afterwards corrupted into Bismarck. It belonged to the Bishops of Havelberg, who erected a fort here as a defense of their Mark, on the frontiers of the Sprengels of Halberstadt. From the little town the noble family of Bismarck has its name.

It is a tradition of later times, by no means historically confirmed, that the Bismarcks were a noble family of Bohemia, settled by Charlemagne in the Alt Mark, and the founders of the town of Bismarck, which received its name from them. It is further erroneously asserted, that the Bismarcks, after the decease of the very powerful Count von Osterburg, had shared the county with the family of Alvensleben; and thus the town of Bismarck passed into the possession of the Alvenslebens.[2] This last is only stated to account for the circumstance of the holding of Bismarck in the fourteenth century as a fief by the Alvenslebens; it being forgotten that in those days the title went with the office, and that a county could not therefore be in the possession of two families.

As groundless is the tradition of the Wendic descent of the Bismarcks. According to this, the actual name of this noble family should be Bij-smarku, in Wendic, “Beware of the Christ-thorn.” Not very happily has the double trefoil in the arms of the Bismarcks been identified with the Christ-thorn—as a proof of their Wendic descent.

The Bismarcks are rather, as are all the families of knightly rank in the Alt Mark, the descendants of German warriors who, under the Guelph, the Ascanian, or other princes, had conquered the Slavic lands on both banks of the Elbe for Christianity and German civilization, and had then settled themselves on those lands as fief-holders. The Bismarcks belonged to the warrior family of Biscopesmarck-Bishopsmark-Bismarck, and when surnames came into use, called themselves after their dwelling-place—von Bismarck. Of course, they retained the name after the loss or cession of their original seat.

Like many other knightly families of the Alt Mark, the Bismarcks gradually spread towards the East, conquering greater space for German Christian culture, subduing the Wends or driving them back towards the Oder. Thus the Bismarcks also appear, at the beginning of the fourteenth century, as warrior knights in Priegnitz and the region of Ruppin.

We can not understand how a historian of such general intelligence as Riedel, can object to this course of development, presenting so many analogies in the series of other races of nobility in the Alt Mark. According to this writer, it appears “credible and plausible” that the chivalric race of Bismarck, found at the beginning of the fourteenth century in the region of Priegnitz and Ruppin, should have descended from the Castellans at Bismarck, who were provided with some territorial fiefs on the downfall of the episcopal castle. “On the other hand,” says Riedel, “those citizen families to be found in the cities of the Mark and in Stendal, bearing the name of Bismarck, whence that branch arose, the energy of which not only equalized the Von Bismarcks with the highest nobility of the Mark, but has surpassed all of them, by the principles of unprejudiced historical inquiry are proved to be self-distinguished, and the descendants of plain citizens of the little town Bismarck, which had flourished so well under episcopal protection.”

This is, however, an assertion supported by nothing, except, perhaps, by an accidental negative—the circumstance that up to the present time no seal has been found of the undoubtedly chivalric Bismarcks in Priegnitz and Ruppin; for the identity of armorial bearings would necessarily establish the common origin of the knightly Bismarcks, and those of Stendal, beyond all question. But we do not understand Riedel’s objection, as he does not deny that the Bismarcks entered the first rank of the aristocracy of the Alt Mark in the same fourteenth century. It would be almost puerile, by means of fantastic explanations respecting the races bearing the name of Bismarck, to deprive the Minister of the rank of Junker,[3] and thus claim him as a plebeian.

For if the Bismarcks of Stendal appear in the character of citizens since the thirteenth century, it proves nothing as to their chivalric descent, but may almost be used as an argument in favor of it. It is well known and unquestioned that a whole series of knightly families have settled themselves in towns, and taken part in municipal government, in all places at first more or less patrician in character. Thus it fared with the Bismarcks in Stendal, and not with them only, but with the Schadewachts and other Alt Mark knightly races, members of which took their places in the municipal government of Stendal. The Bismarcks were then attached to the most distinguished, honorable, and influential Guild of Tailors (cloth-merchants), because every inhabitant of a town was obliged to belong to some guild. But to infer from this that the Bismarcks were of citizen birth, would be as absurd as to deny the nobility of the Iron Duke, the victor of Waterloo, because the Worshipful Company of Merchant Tailors in London, as recognizing his fame, made him free of their guild. It is in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, in fact, and especially in the towns of the Marks, that we find the noblest families—even the Margrave himself—associated with citizen guilds. At the same time it mattered not at all whether such members occupied themselves with the trade; for we are not, in this place, speaking of position, but descent. And if the practice of handicrafts and commerce were not then, as later, held to be incompatible with noble birth—although, in general, the practice was uncommon—the descendants of noble houses, on leaving the towns, naturally re-entered their own rank of territorial lords.

It is, therefore, explicable that Claus von Bismarck, Freeman of the Guild of Tailors in Stendal, could step from that position into the first rank of the Alt Mark nobility.

Riedel is also the only historian who, in contradiction to earlier and later authorities, asserts the descent of the Bismarcks from a citizen family in Stendal, instead of from the Castellans of the episcopal castle of that name. Even, however, had he been able to determine this beyond a doubt, it would not have proved the plebeian descent of the Minister-President, but only that the nobility of his family reaches no higher than the fourteenth century—in itself a sufficiently long pedigree.

CHAPTER II.
CASTELLANS AT BURGSTALL CASTLE.
[1270–1550.]

As the ancestor of the race of Bismarck, we find among the Bismarcks in Stendal, where they had been known since 1270, a certain Rule or Rulo, otherwise Rudolf von Bismarck, whose name appears in the records from 1309 to 1338. This personage was a respected member of the Guild of Tailors, often its guide and master, as also a member of the Town Council of Stendal.

In the sparse notices contained in the records concerning him, it appears that Rule von Bismarck was held in high esteem for his prudence and wealth. He represented Stendal in the most important negotiations with princely courts, carried out political arrangements of every kind, and in every position maintained a high status among his fellow-townspeople. He is also to be regarded as one of the founders of the town schools in Stendal, and met heavy opposition from the Nicholas Cathedral foundation, which claimed the establishment of schools as its sole privilege. But under his direction the Council maintained its plans as to the establishment of city schools, and realized these despite of the ban of the Church; probably this, the first Bismarck of whom we have any knowledge, died an excommunicated man, for his long dispute with the authorities was only accommodated at a much later period by his son. Rule left behind him four sons, Nicholas I., commonly called Claus, Rulo II., known during his father’s life (and so called in the records) as Rulekin (the little Rule); the others were John and Christian.

THE BISMARCKS OF OLD.

The younger brothers soon fell into the background. Claus von Bismarck was an individual of remarkable character, which, based upon the honored name of the family, and the wealth he had inherited, aided him in extending the sphere of his influence far beyond that of his town circle. In testimony of respect to the memory of his father, he was immediately assigned the councillor’s seat, vacant by his father’s death. Claus, acting with great moderation, next distinguished himself in settling the internal differences of the town, and reconciled the Church with the memory of his father by large donations, and by the establishment of a memorial festival. Very early in his career, however, he occupied a singular and duplex political attitude. In the town, with animation and wisdom, he headed the patrician element against the democratic innovations of the lower guilds, and stood at the front of the aristocratic conservative party in Stendal. But in the country he sided more and more with the Margrave, at that time of Bavarian origin, and gradually became one of the leaders of that patriotic Brandenburg association, which sought to reunite the Marks, separated by the death of Waldemar the Great, under one government.

The political activity of Claus von Bismarck in the fourteenth century, offers many points of similarity to that of his descendant Otto von Bismarck in the nineteenth century.

In his contest with the democratic party in Stendal, Claus von Bismarck was not very successful. After a long and obstinate fight, the aristocratic Guild of Tailors was worsted. The members of it, and among them Claus von Bismarck, were driven out and banished. He now returned to the country, where he possessed numerous estates, inherited from his father; but he did not remain quiet. We see him in continued activity on behalf of the Margrave Ludwig, for whom he conducted the most intricate negotiations, and to whom he lent considerable sums of money.

The reward of his political assiduity was proportionate to its importance. On the 15th of June, 1345, the Margrave granted the Castle of Burgstall, one of the strongholds of the country, protecting the southern frontier of the Alt Mark towards Magdeburg, to Claus von Bismarck and his descendants, and their brothers, as a fief. Thus the Bismarcks entered the first rank of the nobility of the Alt Mark, as Castellans.[4]

These Castellan families in the Alt Mark, although they could not claim any right to a higher rank, formed a privileged class of the chivalric nobility, which maintained itself by the possession of castles—then of great importance for the defense of the country. The Castellans under the Luxemburg dynasty, like the members of the Bohemian nobility, were called nobiles, while other classes of the nobility were only denominated “worshipful,” or strenui. They had ingress and precedence at the Diets before the others, were not summoned to those assemblies by proclamation, but by writ, and were immediately under the jurisdiction of the Land Captain, while ordinary knights were subject to the Courts of Justice of the province. Although the Castellans maintained a portion of these rights to very recent times, they were never any thing more than Alt Mark Junkers, whose families possessed some privileges beyond the rest.

Among the Castellans of the fourteenth century were the Von der Schulenburgs, the Von Alvenslebens, the Von Bartenslebens, the Von Jagows, the Von Knesebecks,[5] and the Von Bismarcks of Burgstall.