The Prince, handsome and cool in his black uniform, conversed with me courteously, but in his manner there was a kind of malevolent curiosity from which I concluded that my anti-occidental influence upon the King was not unknown to him.  In accordance with the mode of thought peculiar to him, he sought for the motives of my conduct not where they really lay, that is, in the anxiety to keep my country independent of foreign influences—­influences which found a fertile soil in our narrow-minded reverence for England and fear of France—­and in the desire to hold ourselves aloof from a war which we should not have carried on in our own interests but in dependence upon Austrian and English policy.

In the eyes of the Prince—­though I of course did not gather this from the momentary impression made during my presentation, but from ulterior acquaintance with facts and documents—­I was a reactionary party man who took up sides for Russia in order to further an Absolutist and “Junker” policy.  It was not to be wondered at that this view of the Prince’s and of the then partisans of the Duke of Coburg had descended to the Prince’s daughter, who shortly after became our Crown Princess.

Even soon after her arrival in Germany, in February, 1858, I became convinced, through members of the royal house and from my own observations, that the Princess was prejudiced against me personally.  The fact itself did not surprise me so much as the form in which her prejudice against me had been expressed in the narrow family circle—­“she did not trust me.”  I was prepared for antipathy on account of my alleged anti-English feelings and by reason of my refusal to obey English influences; but from a conversation which I had with the Princess after the war of 1866 while sitting next to her at table I was obliged to conclude that she had subsequently allowed herself to be influenced in her judgment of my character by further-reaching calumnies.  I was ambitious, she said, in a half-jesting tone, to be a king or at least president of a republic.  I replied in the same semi-jocular tone that I was personally spoilt for a republican; that I had grown up in the royalist traditions of the family and had need of a monarchical institution for my earthly well-being:  I thanked God, however, I was not destined to live like a king, constantly on show, but to be until death the king’s faithful subject.  I added that no guarantee could, however, be given that this conviction of mine would be universally inherited, and this not because royalists would give out, but because perhaps kings might. Pour faire un civet, il faut un lievre, et pour faire une monarchie il faut un roi.  I could not answer for it that for want of such the next generation might not be republican.  I further remarked that in thus expressing myself I was not free from anxiety at the idea of a change in the occupancy of the throne without a transference of the monarchical traditions to the successor.  But the Princess avoided every serious turn and kept up the jocular tone as amiable and entertaining as ever; she rather gave me the impression that she wished to tease a political opponent.