I was seriously ill in Friedrichsruh when I was officially notified of the Russian wish to call a Congress of the great powers in Berlin for the definite settlement of the war.  I was at first not favorably inclined, because I was physically incapacitated, and because I did not wish to involve ourselves in these matters to the extent which the presidency of a Congress necessitates.  My final compliance was partly due to the German sense of duty, which does anything in the interest of peace, and partly to the grateful memory of the favors of Alexander I., which I have always remembered, and which induced me to grant also this request.  I declared my willingness, provided we could secure the acceptance of England and Austria.  Russia undertook to secure the consent of England, and I agreed to recommend the plan in Vienna.  We were successful, and the Congress took place.

During the Congress, I may well say, I played my part—­without hurting the interests of my country or of our friends—­just as if I had been the fourth Russian plenipotentiary—­I may almost say the third, for I can hardly accept Prince Gortschakoff as a representative of the then Russian policy, which was more truly represented by Count Schuwaloff.

During the whole course of the congressional deliberations I heard of no Russian wish which I did not recommend and push through.  Thanks to the confidence which Lord Beaconsfield—­unfortunately dead now—­reposed in me, I called at his sickbed in the middle of the night during the most difficult and critical moments of the Congress, when disruption seemed near, and obtained his consent.  In short my behavior in the Congress was such that I said to myself when it was over:  “If the highest Russian decoration set in diamonds had not been bestowed upon me long ago, I should surely receive it now.”  I had the feeling of having done something for a foreign power which is rarely vouchsafed to a foreign minister to do.

What, then, were my surprise and natural disappointment, when gradually a sort of newspaper campaign began in St. Petersburg, attacking the German policy, and casting suspicion on my personal intentions.  These attacks increased in the following year to the strong request, in 1879, for pressure to be exerted by us on Austria in matters where we could not attack the Austrian rights as such.  I could not consent, for, if we should have been estranged from Austria, we should necessarily have fallen into a dependence on Russia, unless we were satisfied with standing entirely alone in Europe.  Would such a dependence have been bearable?  Formerly I had believed it might be, when I had said to myself:  “We have no conflicting interests at all.  There is no reason why Russia should ever cancel our friendship.”  At least I had never contradicted my Russian colleagues when they expounded such theories to me.  The Russian behavior concerning the Congress disappointed me and told me that we were not protected from being drawn into a conflict with Russia against our wishes, even if we placed our policy (for a time) completely at her disposal.  The disagreement concerning instructions which we had given or had not given to our representatives in the south grew, until threats resulted, threats of war from the most authoritative quarter.