Bismarck's Early Reflections on Power, Politics and Prussia's Path to a German Future
Bismarck's Memoirs continued
The following passages are drawn from the memoirs of Otto von Bismarck, the statesman who would later become the first Chancellor of a unified German Empire. Here, we encounter a younger Bismarck, not yet the "Iron Chancellor" of legend, but a keenly observant and ambitious Prussian conservative navigating the turbulent political landscape of the mid-19th century.
The period in focus, roughly 1849-1850, was a critical juncture for the German States. The revolutionary fervour of 1848 had subsided, but its aftershocks continued to reshape political realities. Dreams of German unification were potent, yet fiercely contested. Who would lead this potential new Germany? Liberal, nationalist aspirations clashed with the entrenched monarchical powers, notably Austria and Prussia.
Bismarck’s recollections offer a fascinating, partisan and deeply personal insight into these complex times. He reflects on Prussia's military limitations and the political indecisiveness that he believed hampered its ambitions. We see his early views on the "German Question," his disdain for democracy and parliamentary dithering. We can also see his burgeoning conviction that Prussia's destiny lay in a more assertive, power-oriented (machtpolitik) approach to both domestic and foreign policy. Fair, methinks, to say that von B would be a four-six tankie.
At that time, I was less familiar with military operations than I later became. However, I believe I am not mistaken in assuming that more core units and permanent cadres¹ were used to suppress the uprisings in the Palatinate and Baden than would have been advisable, or necessary, had field-ready mobile troops been deployed.
It is a fact that, during the Olmütz negotiations,² the Minister of War cited the impossibility of mobilising a large part of the army in time, or indeed at all. He explained that its permanent cadres were scattered and incomplete in Baden or elsewhere, far from their home garrisons and mobilisation districts. Had we kept the possibility of a military solution in mind in the spring of 1849, and preserved our mobilisation capability by using only combat-ready troops, the military force available to King Friedrich Wilhelm IV³ would have been sufficient not only to crush every insurrectionary movement both within and outside Prussia, but also to prepare us discreetly for resolving the major issues of 1850, should they escalate into a question of military power.
The gifted King lacked not political foresight, but decisiveness. His strong belief in his own absolute authority, sound in principle, often held firm against political advisors but wavered when faced with objections from the finance ministry.
I was already confident then that Prussia’s military strength would suffice to overcome all uprisings. Indeed, I believed the results of such suppression would be all the more favourable to the monarchy and the national cause, the greater the resistance overcome. The outcome would be entirely satisfactory if all forces from which resistance was expected could be defeated in a single campaign.
During the uprisings in Baden and the Palatinate, it was for a time doubtful which way a part of the Bavarian army would lean. I recall telling the Bavarian envoy, Count Lerchenfeld,⁴ as he took his leave of me in those critical days to travel to Munich: “May God grant that your army, insofar as it is wavering, openly defects. Then the struggle will be great, but decisive, and it will heal the ulcer. If you make peace with the unreliable part of your troops, the ulcer will continue to fester beneath the surface.”
Lerchenfeld, worried and dismayed, called me reckless. I concluded the conversation with the words: “Be assured, we shall pull through your cause and ours –– the wilder, the better.” He did not believe me, yet my confidence seemed to encourage him.
Even today, I believe the chances for a desirable resolution to the crisis at that time would have improved if the Baden Revolution⁵ had been reinforced by the feared defection of parts of the Bavarian and Württemberg troops. Of course, even then, these advantages might have remained unexploited.
I leave it undecided whether the half-hearted and timid measures taken against the grave dangers of that time were solely the fault of ministerial financial anxieties, or of dynastic scruples and indecision at the highest level. Perhaps official circles were influenced by a concern similar to that which, during the March Days,⁶ prevented Bodelschwingh⁷ and others from finding the right solution: namely, the fear that the King might adopt an absolutist course once he felt powerful and free from care again. I remember observing this apprehension among senior officials and in liberal court circles.
The question remains unanswered whether the influence of General von Radowitz⁸ –– possibly for katholisirende (Catholicising) reasons –– was effectively used to sway the King, preventing Protestant Prussia from seizing a favourable opportunity and deceiving the King about it. To this day, I do not know if he was a ‘Catholicising’ opponent of Prussia or merely striving to maintain his position with the King.¹⁰ What is certain is that he acted as a skilled costumier to the King’s mediaeval fantasies. He contributed to the King missing opportunities for practical intervention in contemporary developments by focusing on historical formalities and imperial historical reminiscences.
The tempus utile (opportune moment) for establishing the League of Three Kings¹¹ was frittered away with trivial procedural questions until Austria was strong enough again to compel Saxony and Hanover to withdraw. Consequently, both co-founders of this triple alliance were absent at Erfurt.¹²
During the Erfurt Parliament,¹³ at a gathering hosted by General von Pfuel,¹⁴ confidential reports from some deputies were discussed concerning the strength of the Austrian army assembling in Bohemia, which served as a counterweight and corrective to the Parliament. Various figures were mentioned, such as 80,000 and 130,000 men. Radowitz listened quietly for a while and then said — with his characteristic expression of irrefutable certainty on his regular features — and in a decisive tone: “Austria has 28,254 men and 7,132 horses in Bohemia.”
I recall the thousands he mentioned in passing; the other digits I add at my discretion, merely to illustrate the General’s crushing precision. Naturally, these figures, coming from the official and competent representative of the Prussian government, silenced any dissenting opinion for the time being.
The actual strength of the Austrian army in Bohemia in the spring of 1850 is presumably well-established today. That it considerably exceeded 100,000 men by the time of Olmütz, I had to assume from confidential information given to me by the Minister of War in November of that year. [E-F: Far as I could find, it hasn’t yet been firmly established in 2025. Wikipedia let me down.]
My closer acquaintance with Count Brandenburg¹⁵ in Erfurt revealed that his Prussian patriotism drew predominantly from memories of 1812 and 1813.¹⁶ For that very reason, he was imbued with German nationalist sentiment. However, dynastic and specifically Prussian (borussische)¹⁷ feeling, along with the idea of augmenting Prussia's power, remained decisive for him. The King, already working on my political education in his own way, had instructed him to win my potential influence within the far-right faction for the Erfurt policy. Brandenburg attempted this during a solitary walk between the city and the Steigerwald forest. He told me: “What danger can Prussia possibly run in this whole affair? We calmly accept whatever reinforcement is offered, ‘much or little,’ while temporarily renouncing what is not offered. Whether we can tolerate the constitutional provisions, which the King has to accept as part of the bargain, in the long run, only experience can tell. If it doesn’t work, ‘then we draw the sword and drive the rascals to the devil.’” I cannot deny that this military conclusion to his argument made a very winning impression on me. However, I doubted whether His Majesty’s ultimate decision, at the crucial moment, would not depend more on other influences than on this chivalrous general. And his tragic end confirmed my doubts.
Herr von Manteuffel¹⁸ too had been prompted by the King to try and win the Prussian far-right’s support for the government’s policy. In this spirit and to initiate an understanding between us and Gagern’s party,¹⁹ he invited Gagern²⁰ and myself to dine alone with him. Then, while we were still at our wine, he left us, without offering any mediating or introductory remark. Gagern repeated to me, only less precisely and less comprehensibly, what was known to us as his party’s programme and, in a somewhat diluted form, as the government’s proposal. He spoke without looking at me, gazing obliquely towards the heavens. To my remark that we royalist Prussians feared primarily that monarchical authority would not remain strong enough under this constitution, he sank, after his long and declamatory exposition, into a disdainful silence. This gave an impression best translated as Roma locuta est (Rome has spoken; the matter is settled).²¹
When Manteuffel re-entered, we had been sitting silently for several minutes: I, because I was awaiting Gagern’s reply; he, because, recalling his Frankfurt standing,²² he considered it beneath his dignity to negotiate with a Prussian Landjunker (country squire)²³ in any way other than authoritatively. He was, indeed, better suited to being a parliamentary orator and president than a political operator, and had settled into the consciousness of a Jupiter tonans (Thundering Jove).²⁴ E-F: Or Emmanuel Macron. . . After he had departed, Manteuffel asked me what he had said. “He delivered a speech to me,” I replied, “as if I were a public assembly.”
It is curious that in the two families then representing national liberalism in Germany and Prussia — that is the Gagerns and the Auerswalds — there were three brothers in each, and among each set, one was a general. It is also notable that these two generals were the more practical politicians among their siblings. Both were murdered as a consequence of the revolutionary movements whose development each, in his sphere of influence, had promoted in good patriotic faith.
General von Auerswald,²⁵ who was murdered near Frankfurt in September 1848 — reportedly because he was mistaken for Radowitz –– had boasted during the First United Diet²⁶ that, as a cavalry colonel, he had ridden hundreds of miles to promote opposition elections among the peasantry.
In November 1850, I was simultaneously called up as a Landwehr (militia) officer²⁷ to my regiment and as a deputy to the forthcoming parliamentary session (Wo steit de Franzos – where stands the Frenchman?).²⁸ En route through Berlin to my regiment's marching quarters, I reported to the Minister of War, von Stockhausen,²⁹ who was a personal friend and grateful for small personal services I had rendered. After overcoming the resistance of the old porter and being admitted, I voiced my somewhat agitated, warlike mood, stirred by the call-up and the Austrians' tone. The Minister, an old, dashing soldier whose moral and physical courage I trusted implicitly, told me, in essence, the following:
For the moment, we must avoid a rupture if at all possible. We do not have sufficient forces to halt the Austrians, even if they invade without Saxon support. We would have to abandon Berlin and mobilise in two centres outside the capital, perhaps in Danzig and Westphalia. Before Berlin, we could muster only about 75,000 men within a fortnight, and even that would not suffice against the forces Austria already has arrayed against us. It is,” he continued, “above all necessary, if we intend to fight, to gain time. It is therefore to be hoped that the upcoming negotiations in the House of Deputies³⁰ will not accelerate a rupture through discussions and resolutions, such as one might expect given the prevailing voices in the press.
He therefore asked me to remain in Berlin and to confidentially influence the friendly deputies already present, and those soon to arrive, in favour of moderation. He lamented the dispersal of the Stämme (permanent cadres), which had been deployed in their peacetime formations and were now far from their recruitment districts and arsenals –– partly within the country, but largely in south-western Germany, in locations where rapid mobilisation to a war footing would be difficult to execute.
At that time, the Baden troops had been brought to Prussia via barely passable routes, utilising the Brunswick Weser district — a testament to the anxiety with which the territorial boundaries of the Federal Princes³¹ were then respected. This occurred even while other attributes of their sovereignty were readily ignored or abolished in the constitutional drafts for the Reich and the League of Three Kings. These drafts went almost as far as Mediatisirung (mediatisation),³² yet no one dared claim marching quarters outside the contractually established staging routes. This timid tradition was only broken at the outbreak of the Danish War in 1864,³³ in Schwartau,³⁴ when Prussian troops removed an Oldenburg toll barrier.
I could not subject the considerations of a knowledgeable and honourable general like Stockhausen to criticism then, nor can I do so today. The blame for our military constraints, which he described to me, lay not with him but with the lack of planning with which our policy — in military as well as diplomatic fields –– had been conducted since the March Days. We acted with a mixture of recklessness and parsimony.
In military matters particularly, the measures taken were such that one must assume a warlike, or even merely military, solution to the pending questions was never seriously considered in Berlin. There was too much preoccupation with public opinion, speeches, newspapers and constitution-making to arrive at firm intentions and practical goals in foreign policy, even just beyond Prussia's borders.
Stockhausen was unable to rectify the sins of omission and the improvisation of our policy through sudden military achievements. He thus found himself in a situation that even the political head of the ministry, Count Brandenburg, had not thought possible. For Brandenburg succumbed to the disappointment his profound patriotic sense of honour suffered in the last days of his life. It is unjust to accuse Stockhausen of faintheartedness, and I have reason to believe that King Wilhelm I,³⁵ by the time I became his minister, shared my assessment of the military situation in November 1850. Be that as it may, I then lacked any basis for criticism that I, as a conservative deputy, could have levelled against a minister on military matters, or as a Landwehr lieutenant, against a general.
Stockhausen undertook to notify my regiment, stationed in Lusatia,³⁶ that he had ordered Lieutenant von Bismarck to remain in Berlin. I first went to my parliamentary colleague, Justizrat (Councillor of Justice) Geppert,³⁷ who at that time headed not my own faction, but the numerous group one might call the "right centre." This group was inclined to support the government but also believed that Prussia’s national task required energetic pursuit, not only in principle but also through immediate military action. With him, I primarily encountered parliamentary views that did not align with the War Minister’s programme. I therefore had to endeavour to dissuade him from a perspective I myself had largely shared before my conversation with Stockhausen — a view one might describe as the natural product of wounded national, or rather, Prussian-military, honour. I recall our discussions were lengthy and had to be repeated. Their effect on the right-wing factions can be gauged from the Address debate. I myself expressed my conviction at the time in a speech on 3 December, from which the following sentences are taken:
The Prussian people, as is known to us all, rose unanimously at the call of their King. They rose in trusting obedience; they rose, like their fathers, to fight the battles of the Kings of Prussia, before they knew — and, gentlemen, mark this well –– before they knew what was to be fought for in these battles. Perhaps no one who joined the Landwehr knew this.
I had hoped to find this feeling of unanimity and trust again in the circles of the national assembly, in the closer circles where the reins of government converge. A short stay in Berlin, a fleeting glance at the activities here, has shown me that I was mistaken. The draft Address calls this a great time; I have found nothing great here but personal ambition, nothing great but mistrust, nothing great but party hatred.
These are three ‘greats’ that, in my judgment, stamp this era as petty and offer patriots a bleak outlook on our future. The lack of unity in the circles I allude to is loosely veiled in the draft Address by grand words, to which everyone attaches their own meaning. Of the trust that inspires the country, of the devoted trust founded on loyalty to His Majesty the King, founded on the experience that the country has fared well with the Ministry that has led it for two years, I have sensed nothing in the Address or its amendments. I would have found this all the more necessary, as it seemed to me essential that the impression made in Europe by the country’s unanimous uprising be enhanced and strengthened by the unity of those not belonging to the armed forces.
This is crucial at a moment when our neighbours confront us with arms, when we hasten in arms to our borders; at a moment when a spirit of trust prevails even in those for whom it previously seemed inappropriate; at a moment when every question in the Address touching on foreign policy holds war or peace in its womb. And, gentlemen, what kind of war? Not a campaign of individual regiments to Schleswig or Baden, not a military promenade through restless provinces, but a large-scale war against two of the great continental powers, while a third, hungry for spoils, arms on our borders and knows full well that in Cologne Cathedral³⁸ lies the jewel that could conclude the French Revolution and consolidate the rulers there — namely, the French Imperial Crown.”
“It is easy for a statesman, whether in the Cabinet or in the Chamber, to blow the war trumpet with the popular wind, warming himself by his fireside or delivering thundering speeches from this rostrum, and leaving it to the musketeer bleeding in the snow to determine whether his system achieves victory and glory or not. Nothing is easier than that; but woe to the statesman who, in these times, does not look for a reason for war that will still be valid after the war.”
“Prussian honour, in my conviction, does not consist in Prussia playing Don Quixote all over Germany for offended parliamentary celebrities who consider their local constitutions endangered. I seek Prussian honour in Prussia, above all, keeping its distance from any shameful connection with democracy; in Prussia, in the present as in all other questions, not permitting anything to happen in Germany without Prussia’s consent; and in ensuring that whatever Prussia and Austria, after joint independent deliberation, deem reasonable and politically correct, be carried out jointly by the two equally entitled protecting powers of Germany. ”
“The main question, which harbours war and peace –– the organisation of Germany, the regulation of relations between Prussia and Austria, and the relations of Prussia and Austria with the smaller states – is to be the subject of free conferences in a few days. Therefore, it cannot now be the subject of a war. Whoever absolutely wants war, I can assure them that it can be found at any time in the free conferences: in four or six weeks, if desired. I am far from wishing to hinder the government’s actions with advice at such an important moment as this. If I were to express a wish to the Ministry, it would be that we do not disarm until the free conferences have yielded a positive result; then there will still be time to wage a war, if we truly cannot avoid it with honour, or do not wish to avoid it.”
“How German unity is to be sought in the Union,³⁹ I cannot comprehend. It is a peculiar unity that, from the outset, demands that, in the interest of this Sonderbund (Separatist League),⁴⁰ we should for the time being shoot and stab our German compatriots in the south; a unity that finds German honour in the centre of gravity of all German questions necessarily falling to Warsaw and Paris. Imagine two parts of Germany arrayed in arms against each other, their difference in power not so significant that a lesser power than Russia or France could not decisively tip the scales by taking sides; and I do not understand with what right someone who himself wishes to bring about such a situation can complain that the centre of gravity for decisions, under such circumstances, falls abroad.
My guiding thought during my speech was to work towards postponing the war, in line with the War Minister’s conviction, until we were prepared. However, I could not express this thought openly in its full clarity; I could only allude to it. It would not have been an excessive demand on the skill of our diplomacy to require it to postpone, prevent, or bring about war as needed.
At that time, in November 1850, the Russian perception of the revolutionary movement in Germany was already much calmer than at its initial outbreak in March 1848. I was friendly with the Russian military attaché, Count Benckendorf,⁴¹ and in 1850, during confidential conversations with him, I gained the impression that the German movement, including the Polish one, no longer alarmed the St. Petersburg cabinet to the same extent as at its outbreak, nor was it perceived as a military threat in the event of war. In March 1848, the development of the revolution in Germany and Poland still appeared to the Russians as something unpredictable and dangerous. The first Russian diplomat to express a different view in his reports to St. Petersburg was the then chargé d’affaires in Frankfurt am Main, later ambassador in Berlin, Baron von Budberg.⁴² His reports on the deliberations and significance of the Paulskirche (St. Paul’s Church)⁴³ were inherently satirical. The disdain with which this young diplomat spoke of the German professors’ speeches and the power of the Reichstag (Frankfurt Parliament) in his reports had so pleased Tsar Nicholas I⁴⁴ that Budberg’s career was made, and he was very rapidly promoted to envoy and ambassador.
In those reports, he had expressed, from an anti-German standpoint, a political assessment analogous to that which prevailed in a regionalist (landsmann schaftlicher)⁴⁵ and apprehensive manner in the old-Prussian circles in Berlin where he had previously lived. One might say that the view, for which he — as its supposed originator in St. Petersburg — made his career, had sprung from the Berlin “Casino.”⁴⁶
Since then, Russia had not only significantly strengthened its military position on the Vistula,⁴⁷ but had also formed a lower opinion of the contemporary military capabilities of both the revolution and the German governments. The language I heard in November 1850 from my friend, the Russian envoy Baron Meyendorff,⁴⁸ and his compatriots was, in the Russian sense, perfectly confident. It was, however, suffused with a personally benevolent — yet for me — offensive sympathy for the future of friendly Prussia. It gave me the impression that they considered Austria the stronger and more reliable party, and Russia itself strong enough to take the decision between the two into its own hands.
E-F: I’m glad to see von B taking the eminently sensible position that territorial interests trump ethnic origins. At no point does he assume or even imply that those clearly (ethnic) German gentlemen were beholden to any other interests but Russia’s!
Footnotes
¹ Stämme (singular Stamm) referred to the permanent, peace-time cadres or core establishments of Prussian army regiments, around which mobilisation would occur.
² The Olmütz negotiations, or Punctation of Olmütz (November 1850), saw Prussia, under pressure from Austria and Russia, abandon its "Erfurt Union" plan to unify Germany under Prussian leadership. It was seen as a humiliation for Prussia.
³ Friedrich Wilhelm IV was King of Prussia from 1840 to 1861. Known for his romantic conservatism, he initially showed liberal tendencies but became more reactionary after the 1848 revolutions.
⁴ Count Maximilian von Lerchenfeld-Köfering was a Bavarian diplomat.
⁵ The Baden Revolution of 1849 was a radical democratic uprising, part of the broader German revolutions of 1848–49, ultimately suppressed by Prussian troops.
⁶ The March Days refer to the period of popular uprisings and revolutionary fervour in March 1848 across the German states, including Berlin.
⁷ Ernst von Bodelschwingh-Velmede was a conservative Prussian statesman, Minister of Finance and later Minister of the Interior. He resigned during the March Revolution of 1848.
⁸ Joseph von Radowitz was a Prussian general and conservative statesman, a close advisor to Friedrich Wilhelm IV, and a key architect of the Erfurt Union policy.
⁹ The term katholisirend (Catholicising) here implies an influence perceived as favouring Catholic Austria or seeking to re-catholicise parts of Germany, often viewed with suspicion in predominantly Protestant Prussia.
¹⁰ This is an original footnote in Bismarck's text. The following are his words: In August 1850, General Leopold von Gerlach wrote: “The King’s veneration for Radowitz is based on two things:
His apparently sharp, logical-mathematical reasoning. This style of thought is enabled by a careless indifference that allows him to avoid any disagreement with the King. The King, in turn, sees this approach — so contrary to his own train of thought — as the final proof of his own calculations. This makes him feel utterly certain of his cause.
The King considers his ministers, myself included, to be blockheads (Rindvieh), for the simple reason that we must handle the current and practical affairs of state, which never align with his grand ideas. He trusts neither his ability to make his ministers obedient, nor his ability to find new ones. So, he gives up on that path. Instead, he believes he has found in Radowitz a man who can restore Prussia by starting with Germany as a whole — a plan Radowitz openly admits in his work, Germany and Friedrich Wilhelm IV.”
Rindvieh is a German term literally meaning "cattle" or "bovine animal."
Deutschland und Friedrich Wilhelm IV. was a political memorandum written by Radowitz and published in 1848. It outlined his vision for constitutional reform and a unified Germany led by a strong Prussian monarch.
¹¹ The Dreikönigsbund (League of Three Kings, or Three Kings' Alliance) was an attempt by Prussia in 1849–1850 to form a federation of German states (initially Prussia, Saxony, and Hanover) under Prussian leadership, excluding Austria.
¹² Erfurt was the city where the parliament of the proposed "Erfurt Union" (based on the Dreikönigsbund) met in March - April 1850. The withdrawal of Saxony and Hanover, key partners, effectively doomed the project.
¹³ The Erfurt Union Parliament was the assembly convened in 1850 to discuss the constitution for the Prussian-led German federation.
¹⁴ Ernst von Pfuel was a Prussian general and briefly Minister of War and Prime Minister of Prussia in 1848.
¹⁵ Count Friedrich Wilhelm von Brandenburg was Prime Minister of Prussia from November 1848 until his death in November 1850. He was a key figure in the conservative reaction following the 1848 revolutions.
¹⁶ The years 1812-1813 mark a crucial period in the Napoleonic Wars, particularly the German Campaign of 1813 (War of Liberation), which was formative for Prussian and German national identity.
¹⁷ Borussische is a Latinised adjectival form for "Prussian" (from Borussia), often carrying a sense of specific Prussian identity and interests.
¹⁸ Otto Theodor von Manteuffel was a conservative Prussian statesman, serving as Minister of the Interior and later Prime Minister (1850–1858) after Count Brandenburg's death.
¹⁹ Gagern’s party refers to the liberal-nationalist faction associated with Heinrich von Gagern.
²⁰ Heinrich von Gagern was a prominent liberal politician, President of the Frankfurt National Assembly (1848–49), and a leading figure in the attempt to create a unified, constitutional German state.
²¹ Roma locuta est, causa finita est ("Rome has spoken, the case is closed") is a traditional statement indicating a final, authoritative decision not open to further debate.
²² Gagern's "Frankfurt standing" refers to his prestigious role as President of the Frankfurt National Assembly, the first freely elected parliament for all of Germany.
²³ A Landjunker was a member of the landed nobility in Prussia, often associated with conservative political views. Bismarck himself was a Landjunker.
²⁴ Jupiter tonans (Thundering Jove/Jupiter) is a Latin epithet for the king of the gods, implying an imposing, authoritative, and, perhaps somewhat, pompous demeanour.
²⁵ General Hans Adolf Erdmann von Auerswald was a Prussian general and liberal politician, murdered by a mob during the September 1848 unrest in Frankfurt am Main.
²⁶ The Erster Vereinigter Landtag (First United Diet) was an assembly of Prussian provincial estates convened by Friedrich Wilhelm IV in 1847. It was a precursor to more representative bodies.
²⁷ The Landwehr was a Prussian militia or reserve army, playing a significant role in Prussian military tradition and mobilisation.
²⁸ The Low German phrase "wo steit de Franzos" translates to "where stands the Frenchman?". I can’t find any other meaning except that literal one.
²⁹ August von Stockhausen was a Prussian general and Minister of War from 1850 to 1851.
³⁰ The Abgeordnetenhaus was the Prussian House of Deputies, the lower chamber of the Prussian parliament (Landtag) established after 1848.
³¹ Bundesfürsten refers to the ruling princes of the member states of the German Confederation (Deutscher Bund, 1815-1866).
³² Mediatisirung (mediatisation) was the process during the Napoleonic era whereby smaller, immediate imperial states of the Holy Roman Empire were annexed by larger neighbouring states, though their former rulers often retained certain rights and titles. Bismarck uses the term here to describe the potential absorption or significant reduction of sovereignty of smaller German states within proposed unification plans.
³³ The Danish War of 1864 (Second Schleswig War) saw Prussia and Austria fight Denmark over the duchies of Schleswig and Holstein.
³⁴ Schwartau (now Bad Schwartau) is a town in Schleswig-Holstein. The incident likely refers to Prussian troops ignoring the sovereignty of Oldenburg (which had a small exclave there) by forcibly removing a barrier.
³⁵ Wilhelm I became Regent of Prussia in 1858 and King in 1861. He appointed Bismarck as Minister President in 1862 and later became the first German Emperor in 1871.
³⁶ Lusatia (Lausitz) is a historical region in Central Europe, straddling parts of modern-day Germany (Saxony and Brandenburg) and Poland.
³⁷ Carl Friedrich Wilhelm Geppert was a Prussian jurist and conservative politician, a member of the Prussian National Assembly and later the Abgeordnetenhaus. Justizrat was an honorific title for distinguished lawyers or judicial officials.
³⁸ Cologne Cathedral, a potent symbol of German identity, was in the Rhineland, a region historically coveted by France. The "jewel" of the "French Imperial Crown" likely refers to the idea that re-establishing a strong French Empire (under Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte, later Napoleon III) might involve territorial ambitions towards the Rhine, thus "concluding" the French Revolution by achieving a powerful, stable French state with expanded influence or territory.
³⁹ The "Union" here refers to the Erfurt Union, Prussia's project for a German federation under its leadership.
⁴⁰ Sonderbund literally means "separate league" or "special alliance." I chose Separatist League since that was, presumably, what Austria opposed. Sonderbund was often used pejoratively to describe leagues perceived as undermining broader unity, famously in the Swiss Sonderbund War of 1847. Bismarck uses it here to criticise the Erfurt Union as divisive.
⁴¹ Count Konstantin von Benckendorff was a Russian general and military attaché in Berlin.
⁴² Baron Andrey Fedorovich von Budberg-Bönninghausen was a Russian diplomat who served in various European capitals.
⁴³ The Paulskirche (St. Paul's Church) in Frankfurt was the seat of the Frankfurt National Assembly (1848–49), the first attempt to create a unified German nation-state.
⁴⁴ Tsar Nicholas I of Russia (reigned 1825–1855) was a staunch conservative who opposed revolutionary movements and liberal reforms across Europe.
⁴⁵ Landsmannschaftlicher can be translated as "regionalist" or "particularist," referring to an emphasis on local or state loyalties over broader national ones. Budberg's reports likely highlighted these divisions within Germany.
⁴⁶ The Berlin “Casino” was a prominent conservative political club in Berlin, frequented by influential nobles, officers, and civil servants. It was a centre of Old Prussian traditionalism.
⁴⁷ The Vistula (Weichsel in German) River flows through Poland. Strengthening the military position there indicated Russia's increased readiness on its western frontier.
⁴⁸ Baron Peter von Meyendorff was a prominent Russian diplomat, serving as envoy to Berlin at this time.