Dearest Vicky, Darling Fritz (14 page)

Fritz’s suspicions that Bismarck believed in the maxim ‘might is right’ were confirmed by his intervention against the Polish rising in the spring of 1863. Poland was a state east of Prussia, partitioned between Russia, Prussia and Austria, whose government considered such an arrangement was justified as the Poles could not be expected to provide strong government themselves. Throughout Germany, among radicals in Austria, and most other European nations there was much sympathy for the Poles, victims of Russian oppression. Vicky and Fritz shared the Liberals’ anger when Bismarck signed a treaty with Russia promising Prussian aid with putting down any trouble. It was tantamount to a declaration of unprovoked war, as the rebels had not taken up arms against the Prussian government, but only against the repression of Tsarist rule, and their action was confined to Russian Poland. Bismarck, however, told an aggrieved Fritz that, one day, they would be glad he had sought the Tsar’s gratitude. Ignoring the liberals’ demands for a declaration of strict neutrality, he mobilized Prussian regiments in the Eastern provinces to help crush the insurgents if necessary.

By the spring of 1863, observers said that liberals were becoming alienated from the dynasty by their Crown Prince’s passive attitude towards the new regime, and some wanted him to be supplanted in the line of succession to the throne by his brother-in-law Frederick, Grand Duke of Baden. To save his reputation, he would be advised to break his silence. Further pressure to do so came in May when the King and Bismarck dissolved parliament after the opposition claimed a right to free speech without interruption from government ministers, and Bismarck proposed to issue an edict against the liberal press in a meeting of the ministerial council in May 1863. Fritz knew it was difficult to justify a decree against the press on constitutional grounds, and while he did not oppose it at the meeting, he made his feelings on the subject clear to his father.

On 31 May, before beginning a tour of military inspection in East Prussia, Fritz, fearful of what might happen next, wrote to his father begging him not to infringe the constitution, in return for keeping a promise not to oppose his views openly. Out of respect for his father, and a wish not to be identified with the opposition which wrongly considered him as one of its own, he had held his silence; but he felt justified in abandoning passive resistance on the grounds that it was his duty to speak if the King’s prestige and the welfare of Prussia were under threat. Such a measure, he said, was against the integrity of the constitution and would seriously endanger the standing of the crown. Vicky assured him that one day his father would thank him for telling him the truth and having the courage to act in accordance with his own opinions; ‘when feelings of duty and conscientiousness collide with your obligation to be obedient, you must satisfy the demands of your conscience
before
those of your father and King.’
⁵
The King replied that Fritz’s ‘opposition speeches’ had spread abroad; now he had a chance to redeem himself by keeping his distance from the liberals and radicals, and allying himself with Conservative opinion.

A decree was to be published empowering the suppression of newspapers and periodicals ‘for persisting in an attitude endangering the commonweal’; the offences listed included ‘undermining respect and loyalty towards the King’ and ‘exposing to hatred or contempt state institutions’.
⁶
As the constitution guaranteed freedom of the press, Fritz replied on 3 June that he considered the cabinet proceedings illegal and contrary to state and dynastic interests. Receiving no reply to this, he wrote again the following day, apologizing for causing his father pain, but standing by his protest against such infringement of the constitution. He and Vicky were not alone in their views, which were shared by several of Bismarck’s colleagues.

Undeterred, the King dissolved parliament and signed an edict silencing the opposition press. The liberals protested that this measure was unconstitutional as it was created while parliament was still in session and there was no ‘unusual emergency’, and on 4 June the Berlin city council voted to send a delegation to the King registering its disquiet at the government’s arbitrary behaviour. All protests were immediately suppressed by the government. None of the ministers bothered to notify the Crown Prince or Princess of the edict, and like everyone else they only learnt of it from the newspapers. Fritz immediately wrote to his father expressing his dismay. Unlike the liberals he did not attack it as unconstitutional, but he said that it went against the ‘true spirit of the constitution.’ While admitting that the opposition press posed a threat to the government, he suggested that the menace could have been assuaged without going to such lengths, and recommended that the decree should be rescinded as it would incite the opposition to further protest.

Vicky thought this response was too mild. When Fritz arrived in Danzig on 4 June, she and Leopold von Winter, Mayor of Danzig, argued that he stood to lose as much as his father in popular support unless he spoke publicly against the decree, adding that his silence on the subject would be interpreted as approval. His decision to speak on the subject was reinforced by the dismal mood of the public at Danzig, as he realized that they interpreted his silence as approval of the press edict.

Vicky was adamant that he should not remain silent any longer. A parade by the Danzig garrison in his presence on 5 June was followed by a reception at the town hall. Winter, a former Berlin chief of police, had suggested that the Crown Prince ought to declare his views openly. Welcoming his royal guest on the platform he apologised for the lukewarm festivities in the town, owing to the gloom they all felt over the decree. Fritz then rose to his feet and said how he regretted the conflict between government and constitution. He knew nothing of the decrees; he was absent at the time, ‘and took no part in the deliberations which led to these ordinances. But we all, and I myself most of all, since I know best the noble and paternal aims and lofty sentiments of His Majesty the King – we all have confidence that . . . the kingdom of Prussia is advancing steadily towards that greatness which Providence has destined for our nation.’
⁷

His delivery of the address left him with mixed feelings. While he was glad to have a chance of proving his sincerity to the liberal cause, making it known that he was opposed to Bismarck and his unsavoury policies, and proving to the world that he had no part in his schemes, he feared that the speech could result in a complete break with his father. The King considered it verging on treason, writing him ‘a furious letter, treating him quite like a little child; telling him instantly to retract in the newspapers the words he had used at Danzig, charging him with disobedience, etc., and telling him that if he said one other word of the kind he would instantly recall him and take his place in the Army and the Council from him.’
⁸
Fritz refused to retract his words, as he was well aware of the consequences of his behaviour, and asked his father to understand that he was standing by his convictions. As an officer in the army he was technically guilty of insubordination, and under military law liable to imprisonment. A precedent existed in the case of another Friedrich of Prussia in the previous century; as Crown Prince, Friedrich the Great had been imprisoned by his father for similar resistance.

The King’s brother Karl suggested that he should be confined in a fortress, but Bismarck knew that to make a martyr of the Crown Prince would do much for liberal opinion in Prussia. He cautioned the King that imprisonment or any kind of persecution would make the Crown Prince a martyr to the liberals and strengthen their resistance against the government; ‘deal gently with the young man Absalom’ was his view. It would be more prudent to issue a sharp warning that any repetition of the Danzig speech would not be tolerated. He also persuaded the King to let Fritz continue the military inspection tour, since any deviation from his schedule could give the impression that he was planning further acts of insubordination. Finally he recommended that in future the Crown Prince should be kept busy with ministry meetings and affairs of state so there would be less chance for him to have any contact with his liberal advisers.

The King accepted this and wrote to Fritz, informing him that he was free to share the opinions of the opposition, but not to make them public. He was prepared to forgive the Danzig episode as long as his son promised not to broadcast anti-government views again. Fritz was prepared to accept his father’s terms for reconciliation as he had no intention of criticizing the government again, much to Vicky’s disappointment. ‘A year of silence and self-denial has brought Fritz no other fruits than that of being considered weak and helpless,’ she wrote to Queen Victoria. ‘The Liberals think that he is not sincerely one of them, and those few who think it, fancy he has not the courage to avow it. He has now given them an opportunity of judging his way of thinking and consequently will now again be passive and silent until better days come.’
⁹

In London
The Times
claimed that the Crown Prince had ‘cleared away the mist of doubt which hung around him and dimmed his popularity, that he greatly improved his position before the country, and gave, for the future, an implied pledge precious to the people and most important to his dynasty’.
¹⁰
This was an exaggeration, as the German liberals criticized him for his remark that he knew nothing about the discussions that brought the press decree about. They knew he attended crown council meetings and that he must have known the edict was under consideration, so in their view his comments cast some doubt on his sincerity. Queen Victoria unequivocally endorsed their action, telling her daughter that she was ‘the best and wisest adviser he could have, and the worthy child of your beloved father who will look down approvingly on you.’
¹¹
Such encouragement was not best calculated to make Vicky act with caution in the future, but she was right to explain that the intention of the Danzig speech was ‘to convey in a clear and
unzweideutig
(unambiguous) way to his hearers, that he had
nothing
to do with the unconstitutional acts of the Government – that he was not even aware of their being in contemplation!’
¹²
Liberals also criticized his endorsement of his father in the speech, which to them seemed uncalled for as the King endorsed Bismarck’s decree.

Despite their reservations, some prominent liberals tried to persuade Fritz to deliver a more unequivocal statement of opposition to Bismarck’s government. The Grand Duke of Baden and his foreign minister, Hans von Roggenbach, advised him to resign his military posts or refuse to perform any more official functions till the ministry ceased its unconstitutional business, and one liberal deputy, Karl Mathy, said he hoped the Danzig speech would be but the first in a series of statements against the Minister-President’s policies. Queen Victoria also encouraged her son-in-law to show his disapproval by breaking off his military inspection tour forthwith, absenting himself from Prussia and coming to England. ‘He cannot satisfy his father by half measures,’ she wrote to Vicky, ‘and he may compromise his and his children’s position if he does not clearly show to the country that he not only does not belong to that party, but highly disapproves what has been done!’
¹³

Knowing that any sudden end to his tour would constitute another act of insubordination, Fritz prudently declined the invitation. Any further anti-government statements, he realized, would push him into the arms of the progressive party. If the progressives wished to claim him as one of their own, he believed, he would not be able to restrain them any more than he could prevent Bismarck’s efforts to bring him over to his point of view. Having made his views plain at Danzig, he refused to say or do any more as he did not want to set himself up as a leader of the opposition. Before the speech, he had foreseen that any protest on his part would be bound to create confusion. His much-criticized homage to his father was meant to convince everyone that the King had not turned against them, and to hold out hope that in time he would reverse his support for Bismarck’s damaging unconstitutional methods. It was intended as a gesture of faith in the King, and he had no intention of giving any support to a radical Liberal majority, whose aims he opposed.

Sensing that his reluctance to adopt a more self-assertive position could discredit his image as a liberal, Vicky arranged for the publication of her husband’s letters in the foreign press which would place his opposition on record. On 11 June she asked Queen Victoria to publicize the Danzig speech in England, and sent her extracts from his correspondence, adding that other letters had been entrusted to Stockmar and the Grand Duke of Baden. Her campaign had no effect in Prussia, where the press edict forbade any publication of the letters; the circulation of rumours made Prussian liberals doubt the validity of the correspondence, and the furore soon died down.

In the long run, the Danzig incident did little to reassure liberals of Fritz’s devotion to their cause. Bismarck was sure the Crown Princess had masterminded the entire episode to obtain publicity for her husband’s actions and to acquaint public opinion with their philosophy. Embarrassed by the affair, Fritz begged the recipients of his letters not to show them to anyone. ‘I will tell you what results I anticipate from your policy,’ he wrote to Bismarck. ‘You will go on quibbling with the Constitution until it loses all value in the eyes of the people. In that way you will on the one hand arouse anarchical movements that go beyond the bounds of the Constitution; while on the other hand, whether you intend it or not, you will pass from one venturesome interpretation to another until you are finally driven into an open breach of the Constitution. I regard those who lead his Majesty the King, my most gracious father, into such courses as the most dangerous advisers for Crown and Country.’ ‘Youth is hasty with words,’ Bismarck scrawled in the margin.
¹⁴