No portrait of the Minister-President himself anywhere exists in the house. There was, however, one of his brother, the Royal Chamberlain, Bernhard von Bismarck, of Külz, Provincial Councillor in the circle of Naugard—a youthful face, not much like the Minister-President. Count Bismarck is also personally unlike his mother, although we can scarcely doubt her influence over his mental qualities. We may mention among the pictures a very interesting one of his maternal grandmother, and also one of his uncle General von Bismarck.

      By chance we noticed, half-concealed by the enormous stove, the portrait of a lady. The original had scarcely been a beauty; her features were hard and unformed, though this might partly have been the painter’s fault. This picture had its little history.

      BISMARCK’S ARMORIAL BEARINGS.

      Madame Bellin, the housekeeper, told us that during the absence of Bismarck’s father on a journey, she had found it in a loft, cleaned it, and brought it down to the library. She asked her master on his return whose portrait it was, and learned that it was that of a young countess who had in his youth been suggested to him as a wife, with a dowry of one hundred thousand thalers.[24] We could readily understand that Herr von Bismarck found few charms in the picture, but the housekeeper, who was struck with the dowry, exclaimed, “Ah! gnädiger Herr, I should have had her if she had possessed a hundred thousand thalers!” Bismarck’s father replied, with a smile, “Well, you can have her yourself, if you like her so much.”

      In those days people had a great deal of respect for a hundred thousand thalers, and such a sum of money was then respectfully called a ton of money. In our times a hundred thousand thalers form no great amount of wealth, although one does not instinctively put one’s hand in one’s pocket to give the poor possessor a trifle by way of charity. At least, such was the expression of a well-known young nobleman lately, on speaking of the difference in the times. However, the portrait of the young countess with the hundred thousand thalers has hung in the library behind the stove at Schönhausen ever since.

      The peculiarity of the paternal mansion of Bismarck consists in its quadrangular form, its thick walls, its massive heavy staircase, the depth and low pitch of its rooms, and the almost extravagant use of stucco on the ceilings, friezes, stoves, and panels. But the whole mansion impresses you with an air of comfort and homely solidity; there is a historical air of noble simplicity throughout the whole of the apartments.

      Schönhausen would of course not be a correct dwelling-house for an ancient family, if proper ghost stories did not pertain to it; and the ancient structure does not look as if these were deficient. On the contrary, there never was a house more like a haunted house than this cradle of Bismarck’s. Those, indeed, who were able to tell of the ghosts which flitted about the mansion are long since buried, and we were obliged to content ourselves with a very poor remainder of these traditions; but what is still preserved was quite sufficient to satisfy the charm of terror in the ladies, at times guests at the mansion, if not to arouse terror of a real kind, without any delightful sensation. The library was especially “uncanny;” a faithful servant, who slept there when the family was from home, often woke up in the night with a cold breath to disturb him; he perceived that there was a “something” unpleasantly close to him, and his usually fearless spirit was seized with icy horror. It was by no means so unpleasant when the “something” evinced its presence in some more definite manner, as, for instance, when it came tramping up the oak staircase outside, or banged itself down with a dull thud. The man who related this was not at all wanting in courage; he knew that he was quite alone in the house; he always concluded it to be thieves, but if he put out his hands they encountered nothing, and if he went out from the room he found no one there. It is very easy to laugh at these things, but that is all of no use; the unexplained always has its terrors until some false or true solution of the enigma is found.

      One night, Bismarck, before he was Minister, occupied the bedroom in which he was born; he had guests in the mansion—among others a certain Herr von Dewitz. The next day a hunting party was to take place, and a servant had been instructed to awaken his master at an early hour. Suddenly Bismarck awoke; he heard the door of the library in the adjacent chamber open, and thought he perceived soft footsteps. He concluded it was the servant coming to awaken him. At that moment he heard Herr von Dewitz exclaim, “Who’s there?” He sprang from the bed, the clock struck twelve, and there was nobody to be seen. He had felt or heard something, as other persons had before him, which was susceptible of no explanation. Another of the Bismarcks had also seen something; if we are not mistaken this was an uncle of the Minister’s, the General von Bismarck, who died in 1881. He saw, certainly only in a dream, a fleeting white form that beckoned to him; he followed, and it led him down into the cellar, the most ancient part of the building, and there showed him a door in which there was cut an opening in the form of a heart. He thought from the motions of the apparition that it signified to him the existence of a concealed treasure. This was, as already stated, all a dream, but the dream was so vivid, it made such an impression on him, that on the next morning he examined the cellar closely; he found, hidden behind rubbish and lumber, a little door with a heart-shaped opening in it, the existence of which was quite unsuspected by any of the members of the family. The door had now been found, but alas! no treasure was discovered, for the door only concealed a hidden passage leading into the Church.

      In the library door there are three deep cracks, commemorating the presence of evil spirits of any thing but a ghostly nature; they were French soldiers, who in 1806 pursued the young and lovely lady of the mansion, and endeavored to break down the door with their bayonets, when the fugitive had locked it behind her. Bismarck’s father sheltered his wife from the attentions of the children of the “grande nation” in the forest, but his ready money, among which was a considerable