The Life of Bismarck, Private and Political. George Hesekiel
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and fulfilled some diplomatic missions, especially at the court of London, to the perfect satisfaction of all, and seems to have conducted himself with peculiar tact, so as to come into collision with no party; and he succeeded in maintaining the position he had earned in the service of the State. He finally became General in the Ukraine, and died in October, 1750, at Pultawa. He left no issue by his second marriage, with the sister of the Duchess Biron of Courland.
A century after Ludolf August, a second Bismarck of Schönhausen visited Russia, under specially honorable circumstances. This was Frederick William von Bismarck, the famous Cavalry General of Würtemberg, also known as an esteemed military author. He was born on the 28th of July, 1783, at Windheim on the Weser, and joined the Brunswick service in 1797. He afterwards served in England, and finally in Würtemberg, where he very greatly distinguished himself, and rose to the rank of General. He was the Würtemberg ambassador to Berlin, Dresden, Hanover, and Carlsruhe. He aided in the reconstruction of the Danish army in 1826, and was esteemed so high an authority on cavalry matters, that the Emperor Nicholas summoned him, in 1835, to Russia, to inspect his cavalry. In 1818, Bismarck was created a Count by the King of Würtemberg, which title he transmitted after his marriage with the Princess Augusta Amalia of Nassau-Usingen (born 30th December, 1778; died 16th July, 1846, the last of the line Nassau-Usingen),[16] on her bringing him no issue, to the descendants of his deceased elder brother, John Henry Ludwig. On the 3d of April, 1848, he again married Amalia Julie Thibaut, and died on the 18th of June, 1860. His descendants by this marriage, a son and a daughter, form the second lines of the Count Bismarcks of Würtemberg, the other line existing in the family of his deceased brother.
The third Bismarck of Schönhausen, who went to Russia as the representative of His Majesty the King of Prussia, is our Minister-President.
Colonel August von Bismarck was succeeded in Schönhausen by his second son, also named August;—born the 15th of May, 1666; married the 24th of April, 1694, to Dorothea Sophie von Katte; died the 18th of June, 1732. He was Councillor and Land Commissioner to the Elector of Brandenburg, the builder or restorer of the present mansion of Schönhausen. He was succeeded by the eldest of his seven sons, August Frederick—born the 2d of April, 1695—who met a hero’s death as Colonel and Commandant of the regiment of Anspach-Baireuth Dragoons in the year 1742, at the battle of Chotusitz.[17] It is said that the Minister-President in person is extremely like this Bismarck, his great-grandfather, who was an excellent soldier, and high in favor with Frederick the Great. August Frederick was twice married, first to Stephanie von Dewitz, and then to Frederica Charlotte von Tresckow.
CHARLES ALEXANDER VON BISMARCK.
The second son of the first marriage of this brave soldier was the intellectual Charles Alexander von Bismarck, born in 1727. He was about to accompany his maternal uncle, one of the Von Dewitz family, to his post, which was that of Prussian Ambassador to Vienna, when Frederick the Great appointed his future to be otherwise. Charles Alexander entered the royal chamber an attaché of the embassy, but quitted it as a cavalry officer. He was averse to the military art, and soon obtained his discharge as a captain. On the 5th of March, 1762, he married Christine Charlotte Gottliebe von Schönfeld—born the 25th of December, 1741; deceased on the 22d of October, 1772—her mother having been a sister of his mother, one of the Dewitz family. An elegant French composition, by Charles Alexander, is preserved; a spirited and touching memorial of his departed wife, in the inflated style of those days. The title of this composition—of greater merit than usually the case with such writings—is as follows: “Eloge ou Monument érigé à la Mémoire de C. C. G. de Bismarck, née de Schoenfeld, par Charles Alexandre de Bismarck. Berlin, 1774.”
CHRISTINE VON BISMARCK.
We select a few passages therefrom:—
“My friend lost her mother (Sophie Eleonore von Dewitz) in her earliest childhood, and her maternal grandmother (Louise Emilie von Dewitz, born a Von Zeethen of the family of Trebnitz) took her to live with her at Hoffelde. She was there nurtured in retirement and innocence, and already won my heart by her filial gentleness. There I found her once more, after years of war and life in a distant garrison, in perfect innocence, the charming picture of a blushing rose. O! that ye could return, ye hours of rapture! when the society of this sweet creature, who in her solitude had received nothing from art, but every thing from the hand of nature, filled my soul with such celestial joy, that in possessing her I forgot, not alone every evil of life, but even every minor grief! Return at least for an instant to my remembrance, ye sweetest of hours, for alas! the pang of sorrow will needs drive you away too soon! Above all, return, thou memory of yon magnificent spring night, upon which I wandered, between my best-beloved and her dear sister, in the outskirts of a majestic and peaceful forest, under the silvery moonlight, while the brooks trilled and the nightingale raised her sorrowing tones. My heart was instinct with love, and attuned to the enchanting prospect. I felt the beauty of the earth, and the still greater loveliness of innocence, indwelling those hearts so full of affection for me! But, no! this reminiscence is now too powerful for my feelings, and my tear-bedewed eye is too weak to bear the dazzling glory of joy! No other evening is destined for me on earth such as that was! She exists no longer who made that evening more charming to me than all the beauties of nature. She has left me forever! Soon afterwards our society was interrupted, our supposed felicity was bitterly destroyed. Our grandmother, the refuge of her grandchildren, the sustainer of all the poor of her neighborhood, died. My friend and I were parted, and the sorrow which succeeds all evanescent joy became our portion.
“Still it was not that terrible misery which now oppresses my heart. Well-founded hopes comforted and the tenderest affection aided us. My hopes were not in vain. The slight cloud which had veiled the morning sun—which gave me life—passed away, and his ray soon shone forth with accustomed glory. With anxious unrest I yearned to associate myself with my friend to the brink of the grave. Could I but have done so for eternity! Our compact, however, is not yet broken, and will endure as long as my tears can flow, and the soul of my beloved was too beautiful to prevent their flowing forever. Her excellent father, who might have bestowed her on a better and a richer man, gave her to me because my beloved would not have a better or richer man, nor any man save myself. What words, my father, could express my thanks for this favor, unless they could to some extent mark the value of your daughter, and stand in some relation to my lost happiness and my present grief! The silent tears that overflow my cheeks are more eloquent than words. You can not see my tears, but perchance God beholds them, and your daughter also. A tear is the only gratitude I can offer. May the conviction cheer you that you could not have given your virtuous daughter to any one who loved her more affectionately, faithfully, and unselfishly than I did!
“You then gave her to me, my father. The 5th of March, 1762, was the happiest day of my life. I still hear the words which my tender bride selected for herself: ‘Intreat me not to leave thee or to return from following after thee, for whither thou goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me’ (Ruth i. 16, 17). I cherish the hope, the only hope now animating me, that even death does not part us.
“With what delight, my friend and my father, did I then receive her from your hand. Alas! that I had left her with thee! I declare with the sincerity of one who is comfortless that I should have done so, had I known that death would so soon have withdrawn her from my arms!
“I should then have lost eleven years of a life such as angels only lead; but I would willingly have sacrificed these happiest years of my earthly life. Then I felt as secure from such thoughts of death as if I were to retain her forever! but she left thee and her relatives in tears, and her peerless heart impelled her to ask my pardon for these very tears. Of this nature were all her imperfections. What happiness did I not anticipate in the future on the revelation of such tender sentiments; and the realization was still greater than my expectation. Our days passed away in happiness and peace. Could this state of things last forever? It was heaven upon