Meanwhile Vicky and Moretta, braving the Empress’s wrath, watched events in Bulgaria with ill-disguised admiration for her ruler. During the autumn of 1885 he repulsed a Serbian invasion of his territory, supported by Austria-Hungary, at the battle of Slivnitza, and Vicky sent him a twenty-eight-page letter of congratulation. Frustrated by her refusal to give in, Bismarck and his cronies whispered it was really she and not Moretta who was in love with the Battenberg prince. It was certainly easier for them to attack her than Queen Victoria, who applauded Sandro just as vigorously in her own way, compared him to the Prince Consort, and never missed an opportunity of inviting him to stay with her. Nevertheless she foresaw Russian jealousy at his success and knew that the Tsar’s patience was wearing dangerously thin.
By April 1886 Sandro’s position was increasingly tenuous. The popularity he had won after his victory the previous year was strongly resented at St Petersburg, and only one thing might save his position, immediate marriage to a suitably-connected princess. It was not to be. One August morning a gang of Russian officers burst into his palace at Sofia, forced him at gunpoint to sign a hastily-improvised deed of abdication, and sent him under arrest to the Austrian frontier. Public opinion in Bulgaria demanded his return a week later, but he had had enough. He sent a conciliatory telegram to Tsar Alexander III which was treated with contempt, and after receiving further threats he ratified his deed of abdication.
Though furious with Russia, Vicky admitted that the dignity of his departure was ‘an honourable one for him and his people and he can lay down his crown of thorns with a clear conscience’.26 ‘His noble character and rare abilities, and his gallant conduct indeed deserve praise and admiration, as his hard fate must call forth sympathy,’ she wrote to Lord Napier. ‘Seldom did so much injustice and ingratitude fall to any man’s share. He did his duty from first to last, and deserves the approval of all honest men and good soldiers.’27
Vicky felt more and more ill at ease in the atmosphere of Berlin. She, Fritz and their three younger daughters regularly visited Italy, where they enjoyed the lakes and mountains of the north, Venice, Florence and the Riviera. Returning to the capital in the autumn of 1885, she wrote to Countess Dönhoff how bitterly she felt the contrast ‘when come back to the heavy dull stiffness, to the cold ugliness of north Germany and the neighbourhood of Berlin! The moral atmosphere of the Court, the political and official world seems to suffocate me!’28
In 1884 Fritz told Bismarck that he intended to include some of the National Liberals, including their leader Johannes Miquel, in his government when he came to the throne, and he would be glad to have Bismarck retain the Chancellorship. Bismarck said he had no objection to the Crown Prince attempting to govern with the National Liberals, but if he wanted to go further towards the left, he would soon be rushing headlong down the slope to republicanism.29 He was concerned about reports from other ministers and members of the Reichstag suggesting the Crown Prince no longer had the stamina to resist any attempts his strong-willed wife might have about attempting to bring the Deutsch-Freisinnige Partei to power when they were Emperor and Empress. Some of her letters to Fritz underlined a fervent belief that the damage done by Bismarck could be rectified if the Chancellor relinquished control over domestic policy to the party’s leaders. She readily conceded that Bismarck remained the man for ‘exceptional circumstances’; his ‘power, energy, clear-headedness [and] genial courage’ had accomplished much for them during foreign policy crises, but domestic policy required other qualities which could be found in the progressive left, who unlike him had ‘the insight and the drive to improve and dignify the situation’ and were committed to ‘bringing out the best in human nature’. They would foster the development of what she saw as right for Germany; a strong government that could protect the country from danger abroad with a good and strong army, an efficient but small navy; most important of all, they would have nothing to do with absolutism or imperialism on one hand, or ‘the development of a workers’ state’ on the other.30
If Fritz felt that she was pandering to extreme radical or leftist elements, he did not argue with her. Whether this was because he accepted her judgment without question, or because he simply did not have the vigour to argue with her, is debatable. But some of those around them, mainly Bismarck’s supporters (or men who owed their advancement to him), readily believed the latter, and blamed her for undermining her husband’s self-confidence. Baron Friedrich von Holstein of the Foreign Office, a recluse whose office safe was known as the ‘Poison Cupboard’ because of its wealth of incriminating secrets about anyone of importance in contemporary life, was no admirer of the Crown Prince or Princess. He felt that the Crown Prince’s character grew weaker by the year, in inverse proportion to the increase of her influence, and said he could not believe that he would ever assert his own will in opposition to hers. Gustav von Sommerfeld complained that the heir was ‘not a man at all, he has no ideas of his own, unless she allows him.’31 Radolinski told Holstein and others that when the Crown Prince ascended the throne, his wife would be Emperor in all but name. Holstein thought he might be persuaded to renounce his place in the succession, as he was ‘already a prey to misgivings both on foreign affairs [England] and on domestic policy’.32 If there was a struggle for the throne his son Wilhelm, who possessed greater determination of character and was an ‘ardent soldier, anti-democratic, anti-English’33 would surely be the people’s choice as well as that of the ministers.
Bismarck knew the Crown Princess would prevent her husband from renouncing the throne while his father was alive, but if a political crisis was to occur during his reign or could be conveniently contrived for the purpose, he might consider abdication. Some were prepared to suggest that when Kaiser Wilhelm died, the Crown Princess should not be permitted to become Empress, but forced to flee or be banished from Germany, or even imprisoned, presumably on a trumped-up charge of being an agent of a foreign power. Others, led by Waldersee, Deputy Chief of General Staff, demanded that the Crown Prince should be asked or forced to renounce his place in the succession so that his son would become his grandfather’s heir.
Prince Wilhelm declared openly that his mother had always remained an Englishwoman at heart, and was credited with being the inspiration for the idea of having his parents forcibly separated. Holstein knew that Bismarck would never propose such a medieval idea, but Wilhelm might, as he was said to be ‘heartless, fiercely determined, obstinate and cunning, and moreover penetrated with the idea that every personal consideration should be subordinated to the interests of the state. The Crown Prince is afraid of his son already’.34 While Bismarck had the grace to keep aloof from such squalid machinations, he spoke to the Reichstag in March 1885 of the disastrous consequences which dynastic interests could have on state policy, and the dangers of such ties with international relations, a theme to which he had referred shortly after coming to power many years earlier. His reference to the French revolution and the fate of Marie Antoinette were analogies interpreted as a warning to the Crown Princess. A year later, Waldersee made it evident that if the Reichstag and ministers were prepared to accept any proposals for greater democracy by Emperor Friedrich and his wife in the next reign, the military was not. Democracy was anathema to the Prussian army, whose privileged status would be threatened. In tones redolent of the controversy which had reared its head in the early days of King Wilhelm’s reign and his obstinacy over the military reforms, the army would not stop at intervening with the intention of overthrowing Kaiser Friedrich and placing Prince Wilhelm on the throne to ‘restore kingship to its rightful position’.35
By 1885 Kaiser Wilhelm was becoming ever more frail with kidney disorders, blood loss, and minor strokes. That summer the Chancellor was called to the Neue Palais and asked if he would be willing to remain in office after His Majesty’s death. He replied that he would, on two conditions: no parliamentary government, and no foreign influence in politics. To these, so it is said, Fritz wholeheartedly agreed.
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While there is no doubt that the meeting took place, Bismarck’s reminiscences form the only record of what took place. They can hardly be accepted at face value, as they were distorted by lies and personal spite, with the tone coloured by what he or his sycophantic assistant Lothar Bucher, to whom much of the work was dictated, wished the world to remember of him. Yet Fritz knew it would be impossible to dismiss his father’s chief statesman on his accession, and the best he could do was to wait until they clashed, then rely on the support of the radicals and the Freisinnige to press for his resignation. Moreover, as Catherine Radziwill suggested, he would not have accepted such conditions without strongly resenting the reference to ‘foreign influence’, an obvious slight to Vicky;36 Bismarck was one of the last people from whom he would have tolerated such disrespect. Maybe the Chancellor intended to safeguard his position in the event of Fritz’s sudden accession, because he knew the Crown Prince to be a man of his word;37 and for him to accept the conditions offered would be consistent with the view that he was weary of his aimless life and had little hope for the future.
Vicky wrote to Friedberg that the Emperor and Bismarck had ‘created a unique and wondrous structure’, though it had its weaknesses, and her husband would retain the best qualities of the old empire but give the German people the kind of education that would prepare them to make their own political judgments. Her husband’s reign would retain and build on everything that had made Prussia great; his reign would emphasize military power, industriousness, order, cultural development and prosperity. As central government could not be expected to do everything, the new administration would initiate transition to a new political order in which the administrative powers held by the central assembly would gradually be transferred to the people. New social legislation would inspire trust among the working classes, so there would be no need for them to have to live with socialist agitation. ‘The strong hand of a Prince Bismarck will no doubt be capable of building these bridges that will safely enable us to cross into a new era that will crown his lifetime achievements,’ she wrote. Perhaps, she added, if he would see her more often, he would realize that she was not ‘the disruptive and dangerous person’ that she was considered to be.38
Bismarck was not the sworn foe of the Crown Prince and Princess that posterity has often suggested. Much as they opposed some of his methods, they respected much of what he had done for Germany, while he found in them some of the fundamental qualities lacking in the Emperor and Empress. The Crown Prince, he told his press chief Moritz Busch, was ‘more human, so to speak, more upright and modest’ than his father, while the Crown Princess was ‘unaffected and sincere, which her mother-in-law is not . . . she is honourable and has no great pretensions.’39
Bismarck agreed to meet Fritz and Vicky in July 1885, and on the way Radolinski joined him at Wildpark Station. He told Radolinski what he intended to say to the Crown Prince and Princess, in other words he would express his disapproval of the ‘English influence’ the Crown Princess had brought to Germany and of the Battenberg marriage, and stress the advantages of marrying Princess Victoria into the Portuguese royal family. He knew Radolinski would repeat this to her, and when he did she was so angry that she could hardly bring herself to speak to Bismarck more than necessary. Meanwhile Bismarck met Fritz alone, with nobody to weigh in to support him. Yet posterity only has Bismarck’s version of events, and has only his word for it when he says that the Crown Prince simply pursed his lips and tacitly agreed with all he said.
At about this time Fritz also drafted proclamations to be issued to his Chancellor and his people on accession. These were done with several advisers including Stosch, Friedberg, Roggenbach and Geffcken. The two latter wished to see Bismarck’s influence limited during the next reign, whereas the two others preferred to retain the status quo. These proclamations included a commitment to keeping the Chancellor’s policies within constitutional bounds.
Though long since retired and in failing health, Baron Ernest von Stockmar remained a trusted friend and mentor to Vicky and Fritz, as a link with the early days of their marriage, and perhaps the only man in Germany outside their immediate family whom they could really trust. On 6 May 1886 he died after a long illness, and though not unexpected, it was a great shock to them both. ‘It seems to me as if we have practically been orphaned,’ Fritz wrote to his wife; ‘& as if everything is becoming desolate and empty all around us!’40
Another perpetual source of anxiety to Vicky and Fritz was Bismarck’s attention to their eldest son, whom he was treating as if he was already Crown Prince. Fritz suddenly found himself replaced as Prussia’s royal representative abroad, as unlike his son he was not a supporter of the Dreikaiserbund which he regarded as a reactionary alliance behind the times. Willy was sent to Russia to represent the Kaiser at the Tsarevich Nicholas’s coming-of-age celebrations, though Fritz had assumed that he would be asked first to represent his father. When the Kaiser’s court chamberlain congratulated Vicky at a family dinner on her son’s appointment, she was thoroughly put out and asked the Kaiser, who replied with some embarrassment that he had only made his mind up that morning. When she asked why neither she nor her husband had been notified before other members of the court, he lost his temper, told her he had good reasons, and would put up with no interference. During the dinner, guests saw her eyes were filled with tears.
The visit came at a sensitive time, for the protests of Fritz and Vicky that the former should be going instead of his son coincided with the coup in Bulgaria which overthrew Sandro. Vicky received a cypher telegram from Queen Victoria urging them both to be resolute and demand that Fritz should insist on going. Vicky had second thoughts after the Bulgarian news and decided it might look like cowardice or at least tacit approval if he was to meet the Tsar, but she still keenly felt it was an insult for Fritz to be passed over.
Willy assumed that the court at St Petersburg cared little for his parents in view of their pro-Battenbergs attitude. His mother completely ruled his father, he assured the Tsar, and his uncle, the Prince of Wales, was not to be trusted. He was unaware of Tsar Alexander’s respect for family life and, remarkably, his warm regard for Bertie, his brother-in-law. The Tsar never forgave Willy for such unfilial talk and cold-shouldered him for the rest of his visit, later dismissing him as ‘Un garçon mal élevé et de mauvaise foi.’* Initially he was convinced that his visit had been a great success, but soon afterwards he began to feel that the Tsar was not the personal friend or German ally that he had supposed. He also distrusted the menacing, arrogant tone in Russian officers he had not seen in his first visit, and it took little persuasion from the clique at court and the military to revise his previously friendly opinions about Russia.
In the autumn of 1886 Bismarck arranged for Willy to enter the Foreign Office at Berlin for some experience in international affairs. That the young man had no enthusiasm or ability for hard work, and preferred to act the part of a well-informed prince for show, was of no account; the Chancellor needed to drive a wedge between Wilhelm and the damaging influence of Waldersee and his hawkish Potsdam guards officers. Fritz wrote to Bismarck, protesting that the appointment was dangerous ‘in view of his tendency towards overbearingness and self-conceit.’41 He thought it vital that his son should learn more about the domestic affairs of his own country first before concerning himself with foreign policy, all the more given his propensity for over-hasty and highly impetuous judgement. Bismarck took refuge in pointing out that the plan was endorsed by the Kaiser, who told Herbert Bismarck that his grandson was extraordinarily mature, unlike his son with his ‘regrettable political views’ and his refusal to talk to him, the Kaiser, about politics. The latter, who was still quite resolute and argumentative for his age, made it plain that his own son was to be regarded as of no account, even though he was heir to the throne.
Bismarck’s aim to use the young prince’s foreign office experience as a counterweight against the pernicious influence of Waldersee was wise, for as
the aged Moltke’s deputy, Waldersee had long been convinced that conflict against France or Russia or both was vital to German interests, with only an elderly Kaiser and Chancellor as the main obstacles. Though Bismarck did not want war, Waldersee maintained, he thought he was trying to create discord between England and Russia, especially in the aftermath of the Bulgaria crisis; and that once Kaiser Wilhelm was dead, Tsar Alexander III would feel less inhibited about opposing Germany because of Frederick’s well-known English sympathies. On Frederick’s accession, there was every chance that war between Germany and Russia would soon follow. If Germany was to instigate a preventive war with France, it would be best to strike at once while Kaiser Wilhelm was still alive, as the special bond of trust between him and the Tsar would be a sure guarantee of Russian neutrality. A preventive war by Germany and Austria against France and perhaps Russia might escalate into conflagration on a wider scale, but in Waldersee’s estimation the risk was worth taking; to wait too long would put Germany at a disadvantage.
Vicky and Fritz suspected a major clash of arms was quite possible, with French hostility the most likely cause, this time complicated by Anglo-French rivalry for the control of Egypt. France’s refusal to cooperate with European intervention in North Africa left Britain to defend her interests alone, and President Grévy’s government threatened to induce Germany to promise neutrality in the event of Anglo-French conflict. If Germany agreed then France would guarantee her support, but if Bismarck refused then the French government would accept Russia’s offers of an alliance. Fritz and Vicky considered it unlikely as Bismarck still apparently distrusted France, but they knew that as long as Germany did not give the French a formal declaration granting her a free hand towards England she would not move a step. They therefore felt that England should take ‘some energetic step in Egypt to her own advantage’ in order to assert her superiority and control.42
Dearest Vicky, Darling Fritz Page 21