Monday, August 29:
I feared R. would have a bad night, since he had not been for a walk and the meal had been somewhat richer than we are used to; but to my joy he tells me in the morning that he slept well. “I believe it was your quiet and gentle sleep which calmed me, my dear good angel,” he says. We take leave of the kind family and arrive back here. Loldi is considerably better, and the remaining children lively and healthy; apart from cards of congratulation there is nothing awaiting us.
But at the Zurich railroad station R. brought me a French newspaper, Paris-Journal, the reading of which threw me into boundless amazement! The plan of campaign is deduced from the Crown Prince’s jealousy of Prince Friedrich Karl, then the French victories are extolled, disharmony reported between the men from Württemberg, Prussia, and Baden, plunderings by Germans described and finally virulent attacks made on the German people! It is quite unbelievable, and German reports do not come anywhere near conveying an impression of the feelings in France. The ministers are always smiling, confident of victory. The French government has not permitted the wounded to be transported via Luxemburg; in consequence their own wounded have to wait, since the Germans take care of their own first.
Horrible weather. (Letter from Prof. Nietzsche in Maximiliansau.) In the evening Frl. v. M[eysenbug]. Before going to bed, we once more, before parting, look at Loldi in her bed in my room; a touching sight, we have to weep before the sleeping child! “Heaven forbid she turns into a saint,” says R. “Those I will not tolerate in my house.”