Author #4
The funeral procession began on Friedrichstrasse, the broad avenue granting an unreal air in the predawn light. The buildings lining the street hung black, red, and white from their windows. Banners, flags, and cloth of all types extended from the shop windows at the street to the high windows, twenty meters above the paving stones, of the Leipzigerstrasse Factory Building. Even this early in the morning, however, throngs of people stood in quiet reverence for the great man’s procession. The policemen lining the street as a precaution were as caught up by the moment as the crowds.
For hours, the procession crossed streets in downtown Berlin, as those citizens not already waiting on the streets for a glimpse of the husk that once held the Chancellor awoke. By mid-morning, the casket finished its aimless wanderings, and began to head down Unter den Linden, towards the grand Reichstag building in the middle of the city.
Prince Bismarck had been struck down in the prime of his life. By his strength of will alone he avenged Olmütz, and humbled the hated French. If this were not enough, he accomplished the centuries-old dream of the German people—one united fatherland to defend the rights of the German nation. A man of peace, who immediately after the French war, offered the hand of peace and cooperation to London, to help build a better world. Across Germany, newspapers published editorials memorializing Prince von Bismarck’s work for unity. Whether conservative or liberal, all recognized the chancellor as a great man, worthy of respect.
On the Reichstag steps, dozens upon dozens of dignitaries stood in silence. Rudolf von Bennigsen sat next to Ludwig Windthorst, an especially false look of friendship passing between the two rivals. Bennigsen held the support of the chancellor when he still lived, and as such, was a man in good position to succeed to the ministry. However, as one of the Liberals who had fought Wilhelm over control of the army in 1862, Bennigsen had enemies, not the least of which was the Kaiser himself. Windthorst, the Hanoverian, had captured the support of the Conservatives and, more importantly, the army.
In the week between Bismarck’s death and the state funeral, it became increasingly clear that, though the chancellery was yet vacant, Bismarck’s ghost would, at least temporarily, preserve Bennigsen’s political ambitions. The Kaiser announced the day before the funeral that he would elevate Bennigsen to the chancellery. None had the courage to contradict him, especially in the wake of Bismarck’s death. Bennigsen, sensing the foul mood of the conservatives, pledged a unity government, dedicated to Bismarck’s memory.
Thus it was, that cold February morning on Wilhelmstrasse, that Bismarck’s casket was carried up the steps to the Reichstag building, to lie in state. Hauptmann Leopold Friedrich, of the Political Section of the General Staff’s Military Intelligence Division, ran towards the center of Berlin. All the carriages were elsewhere, used by the dignitaries at the funeral. It was not as if there would be space to use one on the crowded streets anyway. His heart pounding with dread and apprehension, Friedrich forced his body to race faster, heedless of the stares, curses, and bewilderment of the bystanders. He had to get to the funeral. Everything depended on that.
The cobblestones at Friedrich’s feet were wet and muddy from last evening’s storm. A boot landed awkwardly on an abnormally large cobblestone, and the leg gave out. Friedrich, in full dress uniform, collapsed onto the wet ground. Suppressing profanities, Friedrich hopped back onto his feet, and continued his mad dash towards the Reichstag.
On the steps of the Reichstag, Kaiser Wilhelm I strode up to the podium, to begin his speech commemorating his chancellor, and first servant of the state. It was a boring, dry speech, but any who were thinking of nodding off were rudely awakened by a rifle shot from the Ministry of War from across the street. The shot miraculously missed the Kaiser, who had oddly leaned the side, speaking to the left side of the street. The Kaiser’s bodyguards rushed forward, to shield the Emperor with their bodies. A second assassin fired from a different building, this time striking Wilhelm on the right shoulder. By now, the armed escort for Bismarck began reacting, sending dozens of men into the buildings surrounding the Reichstag.
Soldiers began firing at the windows where the shots had come from, hitting the second shooter, who tumbled from his roost onto the paving stones below. The wet thud’s effect rippled over the assembled crowd, which was still paralyzed with shock. The first shooter, attempting to redeem himself, fired at Bennigsen, who collapsed in his chair as the bullet pierced his heart. Windthorst looked at his rival in shock and horror as Bennigsen’s dying gaze looked up at him.
General von Neuruppin had been sitting behind Windthorst, and at the time of the shooting, nodded to the first sniper. Friedrich emerged from behind the building, running past the policemen who were supposed to stop intruders. Von Neuruppin settled into his seat, smiling. The Kaiser went down, and by the time Bennigsen died, Friedrich’s sidearm had left its holster. The revolver spat flame six times as General von Neuruppin was subjected to a firestorm of lead and death.
Elements of III. And VII. Armeekorps advanced towards the city centre, following their orders. The city must be subjugated within twelve hours, and the parliamentarians arrested. The state of siege had already been declared, and now the liberals, socialists, and other revolutionary vermin would be exterminated. Yes, Manteuffel thought, it all would fall into place. These plans had been fermenting for a decade, and now, they had been triggered.