Frederick William Fourth had already assigned to his brother, the Prince of Prussia, the responsible post of guardian of the Rhine, and at the outbreak of these disturbances he made him Governor General of the Rhenish provinces and Westphalia. Before the Prince had left Berlin, however, the uprising had spread to that city also, so he remained in close attendance upon the King, taking a leading part in his councils as first Minister of State. Frederick William Fourth was much disturbed by such an unheard-of state of affairs in Prussia, and possibly failed to appreciate the significance of the outbreak, but rather than come to open conflict with his people he had all the troops sent away from Berlin. Bitter as the recollection must be, it remains a lasting honor to the Prussian army that this trying order was obeyed without a murmur or complaint, and adds another laurel to those since won on many a hard-fought field. The removal of the troops gave the insurgents free scope for a time, and the efforts of the leaders to direct the anger of the deluded populace against the army, that stanch and loyal bulwark of the throne, resulted in setting the turbulent masses against the Prince of Prussia likewise, who was well known as the army’s most zealous friend and patron. They even went so far as to threaten to set fire to his palace, but a few patriotic citizens succeeded in restraining them at the critical moment. To avoid any further occasion for such excesses, the King sent his brother away to England, where he remained until the storm had subsided, returning in May, 1848, to Babelsberg, where he spent several months in retirement. The King was finally forced to recall the troops, then under the command of General von Wrangel, to quell the tumult in Berlin, and shortly afterwards Prussia was given its present constitution, by which the people were granted a chamber of representatives.
The insurrection of 1848, meanwhile, had spread throughout the country and led to a revolution in Baden, which overthrew the existing government and assumed such serious proportions that the Grand Duke besought the help of King Frederick William Fourth, who at once despatched his brother, the Prince of Prussia, to Baden with an army. It was William’s first experience as a commander.
In June, 1849, he proceeded from Mainz to the Palatinate of Bavaria, where he was welcomed with open arms by the inhabitants. With the assistance of his gallant young nephew Frederick Charles, he soon quickly crushed the insurgents who were besieging the Palatinate and pushed on across the Rhine to Baden, where in a succession of engagements he proved an inspiring example of coolness and courage to his enthusiastic troops. After the fight at Durlach, the townspeople brought out bread and wine for the victorious Prussians. The Prince was also offered a piece of bread, which he was about to eat with relish when he saw a hungry soldier watching him with longing glances. Quickly breaking it in two he held out half to the man, saying kindly, “Here, comrade, take some too!”
It was by such acts as this that he won the devotion of his soldiers. On June 25 he entered the capital, Carlsruhe, and was hailed with joy by the citizens, while the leader of the rebellion retired to the castle of Rastall, where, after a few more unsuccessful resistances, the greater part of the insurgents also took refuge. The Prince immediately laid siege to the place, and with such good results that on July 23 it surrendered at discretion, and the Prussians took possession the same day. On August 18 the Grand Duke of Baden returned to his capital, accompanied by the Prince of Prussia, to whom he gave public thanks as the restorer of order in the country, and soon after William set out on his return to Berlin, where he was welcomed with enthusiasm by his family, the populace, and above all by the army.
His duties as military governor of Westphalia and the provinces of the Rhine required him to take up his residence at Coblentz, where he remained till 1857, with occasional journeys made in the interest of the service or for the government. These were unsettled and not very pleasant times, for Austria was perpetually seeking to undermine the power of Prussia and more than once the sword was loosened in its sheath. But there were bright spots also in the lives of the princely pair, such as the marriage of their daughter Louise to the Grand Duke of Baden. Another favorite wish was gratified by the alliance of Prince Frederick with the Princess Royal, Victoria of England, in 1857. Fresh troubles occurred in this year also, for on the occasion of some army manœuvres at Giebichenstein, King Frederick William Fourth was stricken with apoplexy and his brother was appointed to represent him at the head of the government. At first it was hoped that the trouble might be relieved, and the arrangement was made for three months only; but the apoplectic fits continued at intervals, and at the end of a year, finding his condition worse rather than improved, the King was forced to make the Prince of Prussia Regent of the kingdom. Four years later Frederick William Fourth was released from his sufferings, and his brother ascended the throne of Prussia as William First.
Our hero was nearly sixty-four years old when he was called by Providence to assume this exalted position, an age at which men usually begin to look about for a quiet spot wherein to end their days in peace and freedom from care. But for King William, though already on the threshold of age, this was out of the question. This Nestor among German princes had been chosen as an instrument for the restoration of national unity and power. It was his task, as head of the “Holy German Empire,” to overthrow all her enemies and crown her arms with victory and fame. And nobly did the venerable monarch fulfil this trust, keeping a watchful eye on the interests and welfare of the Fatherland for more than twenty-seven years.
The aims and hopes with which he began his reign are set forth in the proclamation issued to his people at that time. It hints too at the serious struggle he saw approaching, in which Prussia would have to fight for her existence against the neighboring countries, jealous of her growing power. It had been the labor of his life to provide the country with a strong, well-disciplined army; his task now as sovereign was to make it equal in size to any demand that might be made upon it. During his regency he had tried to secure the consent of the Diet to a large increase in the standing army, and preliminary measures had already been taken to this effect, but after the Prince’s accession to the throne the House of Deputies withdrew its consent and absolutely refused to grant the necessary appropriation. This was a hard blow to the King, but he felt that his duty to the country required him to persist in his demands, a decision in which he was loyally upheld by his recently appointed councillor, Otto von Bismarck, a man of remarkable talents and ability, to whom might well be applied the poet’s words:
“He was a man, take him for all in all,I shall not look upon his like again.”
“He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.”
For a time, however, their efforts met with no results, the Diet remaining firm in its refusal, and finally disclaiming any participation in the policy of the government, domestic or foreign. Not until great events had occurred, not until splendid proofs had been furnished of the wisdom of the King’s judgment, were the representatives convinced that the aims of the government were for the country’s best good. Nor was it long before an opportunity for such proofs was offered.
For many years the Kings of Denmark had appropriated to themselves the title of Duke of Schleswig-Holstein, though more as a matter of form than of real sovereignty, for the two sea-girt duchies had retained their own constitution, their laws, and their language. Within the space of ten years, however, it had become more and more apparent that Denmark was aiming at complete absorption and suppression of their nationality. In 1840, and again in 1850, they had struggled to retain their independence, but in vain, being too weak themselves and meeting with insufficient support from their German brethren, who at that time had all they could manage with their own affairs. When, however, on November 15, 1863, King Frederick Seventh of Denmark died and Christian Ninth ascended the throne, Germany decided to interfere in behalf of the duchies. As the various States could come to no agreement, Prussia and Austria, as the two leading powers, took matters into their own hands. The Danish King was called upon to evacuate Holstein within forty-eight hours and to withdraw the form of government introduced into Schleswig, and on his refusal to comply with these demands Schleswig was at once invaded. The general command of the expedition was given to Von Wrangel, Prince Frederick Charles leading the Prussian troops, Field Marshal Lieutenant von Gablenz the Austrians who had come on through Silesia and Brandenburg.
On February 1, 1864, Wrangel gave the order to advance “in God’s name!”—an order which proved the signal for a succession of heroic deeds that covered the German army with glory, for from the Danish War sprang that between Prussia and Austria two years later, and in 1870 the Franco-Prussian War. The first of February, 1864, therefore, surely deserves a place in the pages of history as the starting point of the glorious achievements of the German army and the victorious career of its royal commander.
King William himself took no active part in the Danish War. Only about one and a half army corps were mobilized, too small a force to be under the command of the sovereign of so powerful a nation as Prussia. But when after a number of victorious engagements Prince Frederick Charles succeeded in storming Düppel and capturing all the supposedly impregnable intrenchments, thus proving that Prussia’s old valor still survived in a younger generation, King William could no longer keep away from his victorious troops. His arrival in Schleswig was hailed with joy by the people as well as the army, and at Grevenstein he held a review of the columns that had fought so brilliantly at the storming of Düppel, praising and thanking them personally for their bravery. He also visited the hospitals, encouraging the wounded with his presence and kindly words of cheer. The people of Schleswig were assured that their affairs would be brought to a happy issue, and a feeling of confidence in the speedy liberation of their brethren from the power of Denmark spread throughout Germany.
And so it proved, for on June 28 the enemy’s defeat was completed by the capture of the island of Alsen, used by the Danes as a storehouse for arms and provisions. A truce was proclaimed, and on October 30, 1864, the Peace of Vienna was concluded, by which the King of Denmark renounced all his rights to the duchies of Schleswig, Holstein, and Lauenburg in favor of the King of Prussia and the Emperor of Austria, and agreed to recognize whatever disposition the allies should make of the three States. This treaty, by completely freeing the duchies from the power of Denmark, realized one of the dearest wishes of the people, a wish that had long been cherished in the hearts of patriots; while to Germany it gave a greater increase of territory and influence than had fallen to her share for many years.
In spite of this fact, however, the idea of German unity still seemed far from realization owing to the conflicting interests of the several States, of which there were more than thirty, each jealous of the slightest supremacy of the others. When Prussia proposed, therefore, that the three duchies should be governed by their liberators rather than be added to the German States, of which there were already too many, the plan was bitterly opposed by the majority of the Confederation. But Prussia was determined not to yield, and with the coöperation of Austria succeeded in carrying her point. By the treaty of Gastein it was agreed that Austria should assume the provisional administration of Holstein, and Prussia that of Schleswig, while Lauenburg was made over to the Prussian government for the sum of seven and a half million marks.
It would seem that the army’s splendid achievements might have inclined the Diet to withdraw its long-standing opposition to the plans and wishes of the government, but such was not the case. Not only did the majority of representatives refuse as before to grant any appropriation for increasing the army, but also failed to make provision for the cost of the recent victorious campaign, expecting in this way to force the government to yield. Nothing was farther, however, from the intentions of King William and his trusty councillor, Bismarck. Firmly convinced that they were in the right, it would have seemed treachery to the Fatherland to abandon their purpose. Recognition of their efforts must come some time, and as it proved, that day was not far distant.
At Gastein, as has already been stated, the Schleswig-Holstein affair had been brought to a settlement, but it was only a preliminary one. Fresh disputes soon broke out between the two powers. Austria, already regretting her compliance, inclined more and more to the side of the enemies of Prussia, who wished to restore the independence of Schleswig and Holstein and make them part of the Confederation. The old jealousy broke forth anew, and, unable to reconcile herself to any real increase of Prussian power, Austria attempted to force King William to yield to the wishes of the Confederation. Laying before the Diet the danger of permitting Prussia to have its way, she succeeded in having a motion carried to oppose that power. Convinced that war was again inevitable, King William declared all former negotiations off, and urged Saxony, Hanover, and electoral Hesse to form an alliance preserving their neutrality. But here, too, meeting with a repulse, he was forced to put his whole army in the field and enter the struggle alone. His real feelings on the subject are evident from his parting words to Prince Frederick Charles after war had been declared and the march of troops into the enemy’s country had begun:
“I am an old man to be making war again, and well know that I must answer for it to God and to my conscience. Yet I can truthfully declare that I have done all in my power to avert it. I have made every concession to the Emperor that is consistent with the honor of Prussia, but Austria is bent on our humiliation and nothing short of war will satisfy her.”
Thus with a firm faith in God’s help and the righteousness of his cause the aged monarch placed himself at the head of his army, resolved to perish with it rather than yield in this vital question. Nor did he trust in vain. By forced marches Generals Vogel von Falkenstein and von Manteuffel invaded northern Germany, took possession of Hanover, and forced King George, after a gallant resistance at Langensalza, to capitulate, abdicate his throne, and abandon the country permanently. The main army, divided into three parts, commanded respectively by the Crown Prince, Prince Frederick Charles, and General Herwarth von Bittenfeld, speedily overran the enemy’s country, and before the King had left for the seat of war he was informed by telegraph of the victories of Skalitz and Münchengrätz, of Nachod and Trautenau. The first decisive results had been accomplished by the Crown Prince, and on the morning of June 29 the King joyfully shouted to the people from the open window of the palace: “My son has won a victory—good news from all quarters! All is well—my brave army!” The next day he left Berlin, and on July 2 reached Gitschin in Bohemia, where he was welcomed with joy by Prince Frederick Charles and his victorious troops. On the following day occurred one of the most famous battles of history—that of Königgrätz.
The King had just lain down to rest the previous night on the plain iron camp cot that accompanied him everywhere, when Lieutenant General von Voigts-Rhetz reached Gitschin with the news that the Austrians were stationed between the Prussian army and the Elbe. King William at once summoned his great strategist, General von Moltke, and Adjutant Count von Finkenstein was hastily despatched to the Crown Prince with orders to bring up his army, which was then in the mountains of Silesia. The guns were already booming from the neighboring heights and the smoke of battle beginning to fill the valleys like a mist when the King mounted his favorite mare Sadowa at the little village of Kleinitz, early on the morning of July 3, and dashed into the thick of the fray. The fire was so sharp that his staff, large enough to have been easily taken for a regiment of cavalry, was forced to scatter, but finally reached a position on the Roscoberg, where Count Finkenstein soon appeared with word that the Crown Prince was already on the march. Hour after hour passed, however, and nothing was to be seen of him. The issue was critical, and King William’s anxiety grew more and more intense, until at last, about two o’clock in the afternoon, the guns of the Crown Prince were heard in the enemy’s rear and the day was won. The Austrians were soon in full flight and were pursued as far as the Elbe by the victorious foe.
Soon after the Crown Prince’s arrival the King left the Roscoberg and, followed by his staff, rode down into the battle-field, urging the men to fresh valor by his inspiring presence, and disregard of danger from the enemy’s fire. None of his escort dared remonstrate with him, until at length the faithful Bismarck summoned courage and, riding up beside the King, begged him not to place his life in such jeopardy. Kindly but earnestly he answered: “You have done right, my friend. But when these brave fellows are under fire, the King’s place is with them. How can I retire?”
The results of this splendid victory were decisive, but the chief glory rests with the Crown Prince, whose troops after a long and exhausting march arrived just in time to save the day. It was a touching moment when the father and son met upon the field of battle, and all eyes were wet as the King, embracing Prince Frederick with fatherly pride, pinned on his breast the Order of Merit. The crushing defeat of Königgrätz effectually broke the enemy’s resistance, and the Prussians had advanced almost within sight of Vienna when the announcement of a truce put an end to hostilities.
In southern Germany the army of the Main under General Vogel von Falkenstein had also ended the struggle by a series of successful engagements, and on August 23 a treaty of peace was signed at Prague, by which Austria agreed to withdraw from the German Confederation; and Schleswig-Holstein, Hanover, electoral Hesse, Nassau, and the free city of Frankfort-on-the-Main were permanently incorporated with Prussia. Thus were King William’s labors at last crowned with success. Alone and almost without a friend in Germany he had gone forth to battle against a powerful enemy, and victory had been his. Beyond the Alps, however, he had found a friend in need in King Victor Emmanuel of Italy, who had aided him by attacking Austria at the same time from the south, thus dividing her forces. Covered with laurels, the victorious troops returned, meeting with ovations everywhere, but especially in Berlin. The whole city wasen fêteto welcome them. Triumphal arches were erected. Countless wreaths, banners, and garlands of flowers decorated the streets. Strains of music, pealing of bells, thunder of cannon proclaimed the arrival of the army, as it entered the city gates, headed by the heroic monarch and greeted with tumultuous shouts by the populace. An altar had been erected in the Lustgarten, where a praise service was held, the troops and people joining in singing “Ein’ feste Burg ist unser Gott.” The eleventh of November was appointed as a day of general thanksgiving throughout the country, and trees were planted everywhere in commemoration of the joyful occasion.
The results of this war did even more than those of the preceding one with Denmark to prove the wisdom of the King’s position in regard to the army, besides the large increase of territory it brought to Prussia. By far the most important issue of the campaign, however, was the establishment of the North German Confederation and the conclusion of an offensive and defensive alliance between this and the South German States, by which both agreed to respect the inviolability of each other’s territory and bound themselves in time of war to place their whole military force at the other’s disposal, the chief command of the united armies to be intrusted in such case to King William of Prussia. Thus did our august hero advance slowly but surely toward the realization of his hopes and aims, and visions of a restoration of the glories of the ancient holy German Empire already thrilled the hearts of patriots with a promise of the final fulfilment of their long-cherished dreams, as the King in his magnificent speech before the Imperial Diet on February 24, 1867, painted in glowing terms the future of a united Fatherland. Even the Prussian House of Deputies were weary of the long contention, and in the face of the universal recognition and admiration awarded their sovereign’s achievements, it abandoned its opposition to the government, and the King’s courage and perseverance were at last rewarded.
The period immediately following the Austro-Prussian War was a comparatively peaceful one, but the gradual increase of national strength and power in Germany had long since aroused the jealousy of France, and there was little hope of bringing about the unification of the country until the opposition of this hereditary enemy had been ended by a final and decisive struggle. And for this France herself soon furnished a pretext, though without any just cause.
The throne which Napoleon Third had seized by force was weak and crumbling, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that he was able to keep up an appearance of the magnificence for which his court had been famous. Nor was it founded on patriotism and love of liberty, those firm supports of sovereignty; on the contrary, the present occupant of the throne of France had aroused much dislike and condemnation among his subjects, and not without cause. Public dissatisfaction throughout the country increased daily, and the Emperor, alarmed for the future, determined at length that the only resource left him was to occupy the attention of the people by a great war, and give them something else to think of. Should it prove successful, his sinking star would doubtless rise once more to dazzling heights, while if defeated, no worse fate could overtake him than that which now threatened. As to whom the war should involve in order to make the strongest appeal to the sentiments and prejudices of the French, there could be no doubt, for from the earliest times there has been no nation so hated by them as Germany. Ever since the battle of Königgrätz King William and his ministers had felt sure that France would not view Prussia’s increase of power without a protest, though they had been careful to avoid giving her any pretext for making trouble. But there is an English saying, “Where there is a will there is a way,” the truth of which was proved by the French.
After the revolution which had deposed Queen Isabella the Spaniards were looking about for a King, and of the many candidates who offered themselves their choice fell on Prince Leopold of Hohenzollern. This was cause enough for grievance on the part of France, and King William, as head of the house of Hohenzollern, was requested through the French ambassador Benedetti to forbid his kinsman’s acceptance of the Spanish crown. To this our hero replied by refusing to put any constraint on the Prince’s decision; but Leopold, finding that his acquiescence in the wishes of Spain was likely to cause serious complications between France and Prussia, voluntarily withdrew his candidacy, thus, it would seem, removing any cause for trouble between the two powers. France, however, whose chief desire was to humiliate Prussia, had no intention of allowing this opportunity to slip through her fingers. Benedetti was ordered to obtain from King William, who was then staying at Ems, a written declaration that he regretted the annoyance this matter had caused Napoleon and would never again permit Prince Leopold to be a candidate for the throne of Spain.
The King’s behavior on receipt of this insulting demand was worthy of so great a sovereign. Calmly turning his back on the obtrusive Benedetti, he refused to have anything more to say to him and referred him to the ministry in Berlin for further discussion of the subject. This was on the thirteenth of July, 1870, and a stone now marks the spot on the promenade at Ems where this brief conference took place.
War was declared on the following day in Paris, and King William responded by issuing an order for the immediate mobilization of the entire army. The news was hailed with joy throughout the country. Napoleon had already brought about the very thing he most wished to prevent—the unification of all the German-speaking peoples. The whole nation rose in indignation at the insult that had been offered to the aged King, and his return to Berlin was like a triumphal progress. Everywhere crowds assembled to greet him, eager to express their admiration of the dignified way in which he had met the insolence and presumption of France. His appearance in the capital was hailed with wildest enthusiasm by his loyal subjects, and, deeply moved by their devotion, the King turned to his companions, saying: “This is as it was in 1813!” What most gratified him, however, was the despatch that promptly arrived from South Germany, which, but a short time since in arms against Prussia, now that a common enemy threatened the Fatherland, hastened to enroll her whole forces under the banner of the commander-in-chief. Little did France know the people or the spirit of Germany when she counted on the support of the South German States, expecting them to hail her with joy as their deliverer from the yoke of Prussia! Events now crowded fast on one another, yet there was little commotion in the country. Thanks to King William’s splendid organization, even this sudden mobilization of the whole army proceeded quietly and steadily, as if it were no more than the execution of some long-prepared-for manœuvre,—a state of things that served to calm and encourage both army and people. The German forces were divided into three great armies: the first, commanded by General von Steinmetz, stationed along the Moselle; the second, under Prince Frederick Charles, at the Rhine Palatinate; while the third, consisting chiefly of the South German troops under the Crown Prince, occupied the upper Rhine country.
The Two Emperors
The Two Emperors
The King left Berlin July 31 to take command of the united forces. At half-past five in the afternoon the iron gates of the side entrance to the palace were flung open and the King and Queen drove out in an open carriage drawn by two horses. A roar of welcome greeted the vigorous old hero, who in military cloak and cap sat bowing acknowledgment to the rousing cheers of his enthusiastic subjects, while the Queen at his side seemed deeply affected. The royal carriage could scarcely make its way through the weeping and rejoicing throngs that swarmed about it all the way to the railway station, eager to bid farewell to their beloved sovereign and wish him a happy return. Banners floated from the roofs of houses and handkerchiefs fluttered from open windows,—a scene which was only typical of the feeling that pervaded the whole land. At the station the King’s companions were already awaiting him, his brother Prince Charles, General of Ordnance, and that great trio who had so ably assisted him in the previous war, Bismarck, von Moltke, and Minister of War van Roon, surrounded by a group of other generals. After the Queen had departed, King William entered the waiting train and moved off westward toward the seat of war, followed by the unanimous shout “With God!”
And truly God was “with King and Fatherland,” for in seemingly endless succession the telegraph brought news to the astonished people of one great victory after another. The French were wildly enthusiastic when with two entire army corps they finally forced a single Prussian battalion of infantry and three squadrons of uhlans to retreat after the latter had held out for fourteen days, and then with more than twenty guns bombarded the unprotected town of Saarbrücken; but it was to be their only occasion for rejoicing.
On the fourth of August Queen Augusta received the following message:
“A splendid but bloody victory won by Fritz at the storming of Weissenberg. God be praised for this first glorious achievement.”
“A splendid but bloody victory won by Fritz at the storming of Weissenberg. God be praised for this first glorious achievement.”
The news quickly spread throughout the country, bringing joy and renewed confidence to all hearts. Two days later word came of a second victory for the Crown Prince. He had completely defeated the great Marshal MacMahon at Wörth, August 6, and King William in his despatch to his wife might with just pride send word to Berlin that “it should be in love with Victoria!”
A series of engagements followed, in the neighborhood of Metz, on the fourteenth, sixteenth, and eighteenth of August, which changed the general plans of the German army. The French Marshal Bazaine had attempted to invade the enemy’s territory from that place, but without success, while MacMahon, who had advanced from Châlons to the borders of the Palatinate and Baden, had suffered such losses at Weissenberg and Wörth that he was forced to fall back to his former position. It was therefore decided that the two French armies should unite in the neighborhood of Châlons and, thus strengthened, offer battle to the enemy. To prevent this, the Germans at once attacked Bazaine, cutting off his retreat to Châlons and occupying him until the arrival of some of their delayed corps. The manœuvre was successful, and after two days of hard fighting at Courcelles on the fourteenth, and Mars la Tour on the sixteenth, the struggle culminated two days later in the great battle of Gravelotte. It was for life or death; the desperate struggle of a brave army—the best, perhaps, that France ever sent into the field. But all in vain. Closer and closer about them drew the iron ring. German courage and tenacity permitted no escape.
At nine o’clock that evening King William sent his wife this despatch from the camp at Rezonville:
“The French army attacked to-day in strong position west of Metz. Completely defeated in nine hours’ battle, cut off from communication with Paris, and driven back towards Metz.“William.”
“The French army attacked to-day in strong position west of Metz. Completely defeated in nine hours’ battle, cut off from communication with Paris, and driven back towards Metz.
“William.”
In the letter that followed he says:
“It was half-past eight in the evening before the firing ceased.... Our troops accomplished wonders of bravery against an equally gallant enemy who disputed every step. I have not dared to ask what our losses are. I would have camped here, but after several hours found a room where I could rest. We brought no baggage from Pont-à-Mousson, so I have not had my clothes off for thirty hours. Thank God for our victory!”
“It was half-past eight in the evening before the firing ceased.... Our troops accomplished wonders of bravery against an equally gallant enemy who disputed every step. I have not dared to ask what our losses are. I would have camped here, but after several hours found a room where I could rest. We brought no baggage from Pont-à-Mousson, so I have not had my clothes off for thirty hours. Thank God for our victory!”
Bazaine was now shut up in Metz and closely surrounded by the first, seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth corps, under the command of Prince Frederick Charles; MacMahon’s diminished army had retreated to Châlons, where it was met by the Garde Mobile. Except for this the road to Paris was open. It was therefore determined by the Germans to mass all their available forces and advance upon the capital without delay. It was fully expected at headquarters that MacMahon would dispute their way and that another battle must first be fought in the neighborhood of Châlons. Great was the surprise, therefore, when news was brought by scouts that the enemy had abandoned this important post and retired northward. This was inexplicable. Why not have gone to the westward in the direction of Paris? The commander-in-chief was not easily deceived, however, and as for Moltke, one must indeed rise betimes to get the better of him in strategy. MacMahon’s purpose soon became apparent. By a wide circuit from Châlons northeast to the Belgian frontier, and then southward again, he hoped to annihilate the besieging forces at Metz, release Bazaine, and thus reinforced to attack the rear of the army that was advancing on Paris,—a fine plan, but not fine enough to succeed against King William and his generals. A flank movement by the combined German forces to the right was ordered and a series of forced marches made to intercept MacMahon before he could reach Metz. It was a bold and exciting chase, led by the Crown Prince, Frederick William.
The French struggled desperately to gain their end, but all in vain; on the first of September they found themselves completely surrounded at Sedan, a fortress on the Belgian frontier, and forced to a decisive battle. King William himself was in command, and what a battle it was! Prussians, Bavarians, Würtembergers, Saxons vied with one another in deeds of daring and contempt of death against an enemy who, with the courage of despair, accomplished marvels of valor; yet when the day was ended MacMahon’s army had surrendered, and with it the author of all the trouble,—Napoleon himself.
Great were the rejoicings over this victory! King William and his gallant son were hailed on all sides with the wildest enthusiasm, their praises sounded far and wide. The Crown Prince and his cousin Prince Frederick Charles were rewarded for their services to the Fatherland by being made field marshals immediately after the fall of Metz, an event that had never before occurred in the history of the house of Hohenzollern.
The first telegram sent by the King to the Queen after this latest victory ran as follows:
“Before Sedan, September 2, 2.30P.M.: The capitulation of the entire army in Sedan has just been arranged with General Wimpffen commanding in place of MacMahon, who was wounded. The Emperor only surrendered himself to me personally, since he is not in command, and has left everything to the Regency in Paris. I will decide on his place of residence after the interview which I am to have with him at once. What a fortunate turn of affairs has been vouchsafed by Providence!”
“Before Sedan, September 2, 2.30P.M.: The capitulation of the entire army in Sedan has just been arranged with General Wimpffen commanding in place of MacMahon, who was wounded. The Emperor only surrendered himself to me personally, since he is not in command, and has left everything to the Regency in Paris. I will decide on his place of residence after the interview which I am to have with him at once. What a fortunate turn of affairs has been vouchsafed by Providence!”
On the third of September this despatch was followed by a letter, from which we quote:
“Vendresse, September 3, 1870.“By this time you have learned from my telegram the extent of the great historical event that has just happened. It is like a dream, even though one has seen it unroll itself hour by hour.”
“Vendresse, September 3, 1870.
“By this time you have learned from my telegram the extent of the great historical event that has just happened. It is like a dream, even though one has seen it unroll itself hour by hour.”
Then follows a brief and concise description of the battle and its results:
“On the night of the thirty-first the army took up its prearranged positions about Sedan, and early in the morning firing began in spite of a dense fog. When I arrived at the front about eight o’clock, the large batteries had already opened fire on the fortifications, and a hot fight soon developed at all points, lasting almost the entire day, during which our side gained ground. A number of deep wooded defiles hindered the advance of the infantry and favored the defence, but village after village was captured and a circle of fire gradually closed in about Sedan. It was a magnificent sight from our position on a height behind one of the batteries.“At last the enemy’s resistance began to weaken, as we could perceive from the broken battalions that were driven back from the woods and villages. Gradually their retreat was turned into a flight in many places, infantry, cavalry, and artillery all crowding together into the town and its environments; but as they gave no intimation of relieving their desperate situation by surrendering, there was nothing left for us but to bombard the town. After twenty minutes it was burning in several places, and with the flaming villages all about the field of battle the spectacle was a terrible one. I therefore had the firing slackened and sent Lieutenant von Bronsart of the general staff with a flag of truce to demand the surrender of the army and citadel. On inquiring for the commander-in-chief, he was unexpectedly taken before the Emperor, who had a letter he wished delivered to me. The Emperor asked his errand, and on learning it replied that he should have to refer him to General von Wimpffen, who had assumed command after MacMahon was wounded, and that he would send his Adjutant General Reille with the letter to me. It was seven o’clock when the two officers arrived; Bronsart was a little in advance, and from him we first learned with certainty that the Emperor was in Sedan. You can imagine the sensation this news caused! Reille then sprang from his horse and delivered to me his Emperor’s letter, adding that he had no other commission. It began as follows: ‘Not having been able to die at the head of my troops, it only remains for me to place my sword in the hands of Your Majesty.’ All other details were left to me.“My answer was that I regretted the manner of our meeting and requested him to appoint a commission to arrange for a capitulation. After I had handed my letter to General Reille, I spoke a few words with him as an old acquaintance, and he took his departure. On my side I named Moltke with Bismarck to fall back upon in case any political questions should arise, then rode to my carriage and came here, greeted everywhere with thundering shouts by the marching troops that filled the streets, cheering and singing folk-songs. It was most thrilling! Many carried lighted candles, so that at times it was like being escorted by an improvised torchlight procession. I arrived here about eleven o’clock and drank with my staff to the army which had achieved such glorious results. The next morning, as I had heard nothing from Moltke of the negotiations which were to take place at Donchery, I drove as agreed to the battle-field about eight o’clock and met Moltke, who was coming to obtain my consent to the proposed surrender. He told me that the Emperor had left Sedan as early as five o’clock and had come to Donchery. As he wished to speak to me and there was a smallchâteauin the neighborhood, I chose this for our meeting.“At ten o’clock I arrived on the heights before Sedan; at twelve Moltke and Bismarck appeared with the signed articles of capitulation, and at one I started, without Fritz, escorted by the cavalry staff. I alighted before thechâteau, where the Emperor met me. The interview lasted a quarter of an hour; we were both much moved at meeting again under such circumstances. What my feelings were, after having seen Napoleon only three years before at the summit of his power, I cannot describe. [King William had been in Paris in 1867 on the occasion of the World’s Exposition there.]“After this interview I reviewed all the troops before Sedan; their welcome to me, the sight of their ranks so terribly thinned—all of this I cannot write of to-day. I was deeply touched by so many proofs of loyalty and devotion, and it is with a full heart that I close this long letter. Farewell.”
“On the night of the thirty-first the army took up its prearranged positions about Sedan, and early in the morning firing began in spite of a dense fog. When I arrived at the front about eight o’clock, the large batteries had already opened fire on the fortifications, and a hot fight soon developed at all points, lasting almost the entire day, during which our side gained ground. A number of deep wooded defiles hindered the advance of the infantry and favored the defence, but village after village was captured and a circle of fire gradually closed in about Sedan. It was a magnificent sight from our position on a height behind one of the batteries.
“At last the enemy’s resistance began to weaken, as we could perceive from the broken battalions that were driven back from the woods and villages. Gradually their retreat was turned into a flight in many places, infantry, cavalry, and artillery all crowding together into the town and its environments; but as they gave no intimation of relieving their desperate situation by surrendering, there was nothing left for us but to bombard the town. After twenty minutes it was burning in several places, and with the flaming villages all about the field of battle the spectacle was a terrible one. I therefore had the firing slackened and sent Lieutenant von Bronsart of the general staff with a flag of truce to demand the surrender of the army and citadel. On inquiring for the commander-in-chief, he was unexpectedly taken before the Emperor, who had a letter he wished delivered to me. The Emperor asked his errand, and on learning it replied that he should have to refer him to General von Wimpffen, who had assumed command after MacMahon was wounded, and that he would send his Adjutant General Reille with the letter to me. It was seven o’clock when the two officers arrived; Bronsart was a little in advance, and from him we first learned with certainty that the Emperor was in Sedan. You can imagine the sensation this news caused! Reille then sprang from his horse and delivered to me his Emperor’s letter, adding that he had no other commission. It began as follows: ‘Not having been able to die at the head of my troops, it only remains for me to place my sword in the hands of Your Majesty.’ All other details were left to me.
“My answer was that I regretted the manner of our meeting and requested him to appoint a commission to arrange for a capitulation. After I had handed my letter to General Reille, I spoke a few words with him as an old acquaintance, and he took his departure. On my side I named Moltke with Bismarck to fall back upon in case any political questions should arise, then rode to my carriage and came here, greeted everywhere with thundering shouts by the marching troops that filled the streets, cheering and singing folk-songs. It was most thrilling! Many carried lighted candles, so that at times it was like being escorted by an improvised torchlight procession. I arrived here about eleven o’clock and drank with my staff to the army which had achieved such glorious results. The next morning, as I had heard nothing from Moltke of the negotiations which were to take place at Donchery, I drove as agreed to the battle-field about eight o’clock and met Moltke, who was coming to obtain my consent to the proposed surrender. He told me that the Emperor had left Sedan as early as five o’clock and had come to Donchery. As he wished to speak to me and there was a smallchâteauin the neighborhood, I chose this for our meeting.
“At ten o’clock I arrived on the heights before Sedan; at twelve Moltke and Bismarck appeared with the signed articles of capitulation, and at one I started, without Fritz, escorted by the cavalry staff. I alighted before thechâteau, where the Emperor met me. The interview lasted a quarter of an hour; we were both much moved at meeting again under such circumstances. What my feelings were, after having seen Napoleon only three years before at the summit of his power, I cannot describe. [King William had been in Paris in 1867 on the occasion of the World’s Exposition there.]
“After this interview I reviewed all the troops before Sedan; their welcome to me, the sight of their ranks so terribly thinned—all of this I cannot write of to-day. I was deeply touched by so many proofs of loyalty and devotion, and it is with a full heart that I close this long letter. Farewell.”
“Hurrah! du grosse Zeit!” It was indeed a glorious but also a solemn and heart-stirring time. Men, women, and children of all classes stood breathlessly about the public bulletin-boards, and when the news of Sedan was received, an irrepressible storm of enthusiasm swept over the country, even to the remotest solitudes. Men whose hearts had long been hardened by the cares and troubles of life burst into tears of joy; the hands of enemies were clasped in reconciliation, and mothers rejoiced that their sons had been so fortunate as to take part in this great event. Napoleon a captive at Wilhelmshöhe in Cassel, MacMahon’s army prisoners of war in Germany, Marshal Bazaine shut up in Metz, and France, imperial France, prostrated at the feet of the foe she had so wantonly injured! But King William had said to Count Bismarck after the capture of Sedan, “Great and glorious as is this victory, it will not bring us peace as yet”; and he was right. It is true that with Napoleon’s surrender and the subsequent flight from Paris of the Empress Eugénie, who had been appointed regent, the Empire fell, but hard on its heels followed the Republic, the “Government for the National Defence,” headed by General Trochu as Governor of Paris, the most important members of which were Jules Favre and Gambetta. In what spirit these men undertook to conduct the government is evident from a circular letter to the French ambassadors in foreign courts which was full of lies and calumnies of over-weaning pride and self-deception. Had they really wanted peace, they might have easily availed themselves of the opportunity offered by the ensuing negotiations for a truce. But unwilling to own herself defeated, France would only agree to peace on terms which were impossible for King William, as guardian of Germany’s honor, to accept. This high-sounding letter, therefore, had no more influence with Germany than with the other powers, and the war pursued its bloody course.
All the available forces of Germany now advanced on Paris, and soon the great city was completely invested. Attempt after attempt was made by the new Republic to place new armies in the field. The imprisoned forces in Paris, Metz, and Strassburg harassed and struggled against the encircling enemy, but all in vain. Battle after battle was won by the invincible Germans. Orleans, Coulmiers, Armiens, Le Mans, St. Quentin, La Bourget, Belfort, and many others testified to their valor. Fortress after fortress capitulated,—Strassburg, Toul, Metz, and finally Paris, after a terrific bombardment. In the midst of all these conquests, however, a great and solemn act was quietly consummated,—the fulfilment of the dream of thousands of patriots, the restoration of the glories of the old Empire in the final unification of Germany. In the palace of Louis Fourteenth, that Prince whose whole aim and endeavor had been to bring about the destruction and humiliation of Germany, King William First of Prussia was proclaimed German Emperor January 18, 1871, the same day on which, one hundred and seventy years before, his ancestor, the Elector Frederick Third of Brandenburg, had been crowned King of Prussia. The grand salon of Versailles was chosen as the scene of the ceremony, and amid all the splendor that had surrounded the Kings of France a modest altar was erected, covered with red velvet and adorned with two lighted golden candelabra. Before it stood a Prussian divine in his plain black robes, and on either side troops were stationed, consisting of men chosen from each of the regiments encamped about Paris. The banners of these regiments, each supported by a non-commissioned officer, were placed on a dais at the end of the hall, in which about six hundred officers were assembled, their gay and varied uniforms making a brilliant scene.
Just at noon the King entered with the Crown Prince, followed by a train of royal and noble guests, and took his place before the altar, Bismarck and von Moltke standing near by. The service opened with the chorale, “Praise the Lord, all the World,” sung by a chorus of soldiers with trombone accompaniment; then the liturgy, followed by another hymn, and a sermon by Rogge, the court chaplain from Potsdam, from the twenty-first Psalm, concluding with an exultant “Now all thank God.”
The King then rose and, followed by all the princes and Count Bismarck, walked over to the dais where the standard-bearers stood, and halted at the edge of the platform, the Crown Prince on his right, to the left the Chancellor of the Confederacy, the princes ranging themselves behind the King. In a voice shaken by emotion the aged monarch declared his acceptance of the imperial throne that had been offered him by the unanimous voice of the princes of Germany and the free imperial cities and representatives of the North German Confederation. Count Bismarck then read aloud a proclamation prepared by the King for this occasion, which ran as follows:
“To the People of Germany:“We, William, by God’s grace King of Prussia, hereby announce that the German princes and Free Towns having addressed to us a unanimous call to renew and undertake, with the reëstablishment of the German Empire, the dignity of Emperor, which now for sixty years has been in abeyance, and the requisite provisions having been inserted in the constitution of the German Confederation, we regard it as a duty we owe to the entire Fatherland to comply with this call and to accept the dignity of Emperor.“Accordingly, we and our successors to the crown of Prussia henceforth shall use the imperial title in all our relations and affairs of the German Empire; and we hope under God it may be vouchsafed to the German nation to lead the Fatherland on to a blessed future under the auspices of its ancient splendor. We undertake the imperial dignity, conscious of the duty to protect, with German loyalty, the rights of the Empire and its members, to preserve peace, to maintain the independence of Germany, and to strengthen the power of the people. We accept it in the hope that it will be granted to the German people to enjoy in lasting peace the reward of its arduous and heroic struggles within boundaries which will give to the Fatherland that security against renewed French attacks which it has lacked for centuries.“May God grant to us and our successors to the imperial crown, that we may be the defenders of the German Empire at all times, not in martial conquests, but in works of peace in the sphere of natural prosperity, freedom, and civilization.“Given at Headquarters, Versailles, the eighteenth of January, 1871.“William.”
“To the People of Germany:
“We, William, by God’s grace King of Prussia, hereby announce that the German princes and Free Towns having addressed to us a unanimous call to renew and undertake, with the reëstablishment of the German Empire, the dignity of Emperor, which now for sixty years has been in abeyance, and the requisite provisions having been inserted in the constitution of the German Confederation, we regard it as a duty we owe to the entire Fatherland to comply with this call and to accept the dignity of Emperor.
“Accordingly, we and our successors to the crown of Prussia henceforth shall use the imperial title in all our relations and affairs of the German Empire; and we hope under God it may be vouchsafed to the German nation to lead the Fatherland on to a blessed future under the auspices of its ancient splendor. We undertake the imperial dignity, conscious of the duty to protect, with German loyalty, the rights of the Empire and its members, to preserve peace, to maintain the independence of Germany, and to strengthen the power of the people. We accept it in the hope that it will be granted to the German people to enjoy in lasting peace the reward of its arduous and heroic struggles within boundaries which will give to the Fatherland that security against renewed French attacks which it has lacked for centuries.
“May God grant to us and our successors to the imperial crown, that we may be the defenders of the German Empire at all times, not in martial conquests, but in works of peace in the sphere of natural prosperity, freedom, and civilization.
“Given at Headquarters, Versailles, the eighteenth of January, 1871.
“William.”