I am writing to you as if you were my Minister for Foreign Affairs; but I find it a consolation, in the midst of the preoccupations which beset me, to open my heart to you.
BISMARCK’S BRUSQUE TELEGRAM TO THE EMPEROR’S INTERMEDIARY.
Two short letters of no particular importance follow, and then comes this very brusque telegram from Bismarck to the Comtesse, dated Berlin, March 27, 1871:
_To the Comtesse de Mercy-Argenteau, Château of Ochain, near Terwagne, Belgium._
Your allusions to the conditions of peace surprise me, and prevent me from replying to your letter. It is absolutely impossible.
That telegram probably led to the Emperor writing to the Comtesse as follows, a few days after his arrival in England from Wilhelmshöhe:
I thank you for all that you have written and done. No one could have acted with more intelligence and heart. Unfortunately, we are dealing with pitiless people. We must wait for the second answer, but I do not think it will be better than the first. I believe it would be completely useless to take any kind of step respecting Marshal M. [MacMahon] or others. The time has not yet come for taking any initiative whatsoever as regards internal affairs. I thank you, nevertheless, for the intention. The future is very dark, and one must leave Providence to guide the will of men. I am very grateful for your unfailing devotion, and I again assure you of my affectionate friendship.
There is a silence of nearly three months. The Emperor was very ill, and unable to write to the Comtesse between April and June. In the subjoined letter he explains why he had not written:
What a long time it is since I wrote to you! Perhaps you think I have forgotten you, but it is not so. I have been suffering so long that it was impossible for me to write. To-day I am, happily, well again. I will not speak of what has happened since we met. Many of the plans have come to naught; but I do not regret it. Each thing must come at its own time, and the favourable movement which has been spontaneously produced in France ought to make us hopeful for the future, even if it is hopeless to charge oneself with the destinies of so frivolous a people as the French.
Accept, my dear Comtesse, the assurance of my affectionate friendship.