CHAPTER VII
Everyone, I presume, is acquainted with that old French saying, "Dis moi qui tu hantes et je te dirai qui tu es!" which may be rendered in English: "Tell me with whom you associate and I will tell you who you are!" While this adage is almost invariably true in the case of ordinary people, it would hardly be just to apply it where monarchs and princes of the blood are concerned. Given that every form of pleasure, of entertainment and of amusement is always within their reach, thanks to the loftiness of their station, their wealth, and facilitated furthermore by the anxiety of their courtiers both to please them and to retain their favor, they naturally soon become blasé to such an extent that they become a prey to ennui—a thoroughly royal malady, from which few, if any, of the scions of the reigning houses of Europe are exempt. "Ennui," like "chic," is a French word difficult to translate and subject to much misinterpretation, especially in the United States, where it is practically unknown. The majority of Americans are far too busy, and are environed by too much bustle and activity to experience such a thing as ennui, and even the American leisure class, still in an embryo condition, as a rule are too new to their privileges to have that feeling. To suffer from ennui implies so deep a knowledge of life, and a corresponding satiety of its pleasures, that all the ordinary routine events of existence have no longer any power to interest the mind. Ennui is not weariness nor tediousness, as described in the dictionary; neither is it boredom, for the latter differs therefrom in its not necessarily being the outcome of a high degree of civilization, which ennui certainly is.
An untutored savage of Central Africa, or of the wilds of Australia may be bored; so are many of the ignorant houris of Oriental harems and zenanas. Nay, even an energetic business man may feel temporarily bored by enforced bodily or mental inaction, or by dreary associations; but that can scarcely be described as ennui, a feeling which in the true sense of the word means being thoroughly blasé and oppressed by moral and physical satiety. You must know everything, have tried everything, have had all your personal wishes and desires satisfied, all obstacles removed from your path, and pass your way through life with the firm conviction that there remains nothing to interest or arouse your ambition in order to be a victim of ennui. The greatest sufferers from this disagreeable sensation are, as I have just remarked, the royal and imperial personages of Europe, and although the emperors of Germany and Austria have the greater portion of their time taken up by the business of the State, and the administration of the government of their respective countries, yet neither of them is exempt from ennui. Indeed, there are no princes whose features betray to such an extent unmistakable evidence of ennui, as those of the imperial house of Hapsburg, while Emperor William's choice of many of his friends is guided by the powers which they may possess to entertain him, and to deliver him in his hours of leisure from that dreaded complaint. Of course there are exceptions to this rule, and there are several of Emperor William's cronies who owe the friendship of their sovereign to kindnesses which they rendered, and devotion which they displayed to him, in the days prior to his accession to the throne. But in the majority of instances, the sometimes strange selection of friends made by the emperor is attributable to the fact that the personages to whom he accords his favor succeed in amusing and entertaining him during the time that he is not occupied with the cares of his empire.
Conspicuous among friends of this particular character, is Baron von Kiderlen-Waechter, who holds the rank of minister plenipotentiary in the diplomatic service of Germany, and who was recently, and possibly still remains, Prussian envoy to the Court of Denmark, but who is known in the imperial circle at Berlin by the nickname of "August," that being the "sobriquet" given to the clowns belonging to variety-shows and circuses in England, Austria, and France. In fact, he certainly occupies among William's immediate circle of cronies and associates the position of court jester, and the emperor makes a point of taking the baron along with him whenever he goes on his annual yachting trips along the coast of Sweden and Norway. The latter is the life and soul of these imperial yachting parties, his witticisms, his antics, and, above all, his inimitable talent for mimicry keeping even the sailors of the Hohenzollern in continual roars of laughter. Yet he can be grave and dignified on state occasions, and when one sees him at the Court of Berlin arrayed in full uniform, his breast covered with decorations, it is difficult to realize that this imposing-looking diplomat is the principal partner of the autocrat of Germany in such juvenile games as "Hot Cockles," which is a very favorite game on board the Hohenzollern, and in which the kneeling and blindfolded victim receives a terrific spank or smack, and then has to guess, under the penalty of ridiculous forfeits, who it is that struck him!
No one would ever have dreamt of finding any fault with this intimacy between the emperor and the baron, had it not been for the fact that the latter laid himself open to charges of having taken advantage of the imperial favor won by mimicry and practical joking, to further political and personal intrigues in which he was interested. Indeed, he was repeatedly accused in the German press of being largely responsible for the manifestation of animosity between the Court of Berlin and Friedrichsrüh that characterized the last eight or nine years of the life of Prince Bismarck. The newspapers did not hesitate to assert that the baron, who had formerly been one of the confidential secretaries of the old chancellor, had deliberately fomented the irritation of the kaiser against the veteran statesman, believing that any reconciliation between the monarch and his former chancellor would entail the baron's disgrace. Finally, the abuse of the baron in the Berlin press became so pronounced that he was virtually obliged to challenge the editor of one of the most vituperative of the metropolitan sheets, and very gallantly lodged a bullet through the shoulder of this "knight of the quill!"
For this escapade the baron was condemned to three months' imprisonment by the courts, duelling, as has been intimated already, being forbidden by law in Germany. His incarceration in the military fortress of Ehrenbreitstein on the Rhine was absolutely unprecedented. Ambassadors and envoys have in times gone by been imprisoned by sovereigns to whose courts they were accredited, in defiance of all the laws of international right regulating the intercourse between civilized powers, but this was the first occasion of a government taking the unheard-of step of jailing one of its own envoys.
Fortunately for the baron, the King of Denmark was, before his accession to the throne, an officer of the German army, and as such was disposed to regard with the utmost leniency the offence for which his excellency was condemned to imprisonment. He realized that the baron had no alternative but to fight, his honor having been questioned by the paper whose editor he challenged. Although duelling is forbidden by the criminal law of Germany, under the penalty of imprisonment, yet, had the baron failed to fight, and taken shelter behind the law, he would not only have been compelled to resign his diplomatic office, his position at court, and his rank in the army, but he would have subjected himself to such odium as to have become to all intents and purposes a social outcast, and compelled to leave Germany.
Appreciating this, old King Christian raised no objections to the appointment of a chargé d'affaires, to represent the diplomatic interests of Germany at his court, during the term of imprisonment served by the minister plenipotentiary, and from the moment when the latter completed his term, and was liberated from prison, he resumed his duties as envoy at the Court of Copenhagen, just as if nothing had happened.
Another intimate friend of the kaiser, who possesses much the same talents de société as Baron Kiderlen-Waechter, and whose position in the high favor of the kaiser has been a subject of much unfavorable comment, and even of open abuse in Berlin, is Baron Holstein, popularly known as the "Austern-Freund" or "Oyster-Friend," owing to his altogether phenomenal capacity for the absorption of bivalves, and his strongly developed fondness for good cheer! Baron Holstein, like Baron Kiderlen-Waechter, was formerly one of the confidential secretaries of Prince Bismarck, and a daily guest at his table, and was treated as a member of the old chancellor's family for years, yet he became one of the most relentless foes of the Bismarck family as soon as the prince was dismissed from office.
Prince Bismarck was not the sort of man to submit in silence to the enmity of his former secretary, and a few years after his retirement to Friedrichsrüh he took occasion, during the course of a public discussion of the circumstances which led to the disgrace and ruin of Count Harry Arnim, for a long time German ambassador at Paris, to disclose for the first time in speech, and in print, the part which Baron Holstein had played in the affair. According to the prince, Baron Holstein, while first secretary of the German embassy at Paris, and though treated by Count Arnim as an inmate of his home, living in fact under his roof, and eating at his table, was in the habit throughout an entire year of sending secret reports to Berlin against the chief under whom he was serving—reports which subsequently furnished the basis of the charges upon which Count Arnim was tried, convicted and disgraced.
It is true that some mention was made in the Parisian and English press at the time of the Arnim trial of the questionable rôle which Baron Holstein had played in the affair, and there were a number of Parisian papers that did not hesitate to hold up the baron to, at any rate, French obloquy, as a man guilty of the base betrayal of the kindest and most indulgent of chiefs. The only person on that occasion who had the courage to take up the baron's defence was M. de Blowitz, French correspondent of the London Times, of which he is described on the banks of the Seine, as the "ambassador," and who possesses an immense amount of influence with the Parisian press. Blowitz's championship of the baron's cause was sincerely appreciated by the latter. He called upon the correspondent, thanked him effusively, and declared that it was his intervention alone that had made his stay at Paris possible.
During the conversation that followed, Blowitz opened his heart to his visitor, telling him that his own position as the Paris correspondent of the Times was in danger owing to some changes in the administration of the London office. A fortnight later, Blowitz received from the managing editor of the Times in London a letter sixteen pages long, addressed to Printing-House Square, and entirely written and signed by Baron Holstein. It denounced Blowitz as being one of the creatures of the late Duc Decazes, as wilfully ignoring and concealing for interested purposes of his own, a number of matters that should have found their way into the columns of the Times, and urging the managers of the latter to send to Paris some fitter and more impartial person, who would be better able to keep the great English newspaper au courant of what was going on below as well as above the surface, than so unscrupulous a person as M. de Blowitz. This letter was dated exactly three days after the latter's visit of gratitude to the correspondent, and the incident may be regarded as being in perfect harmony with the behavior of this favorite of the kaiser to both Count Harry Arnim and subsequently to Prince Bismarck.
The third of these cronies of the kaiser, to whom his subjects take objection on the ground that they are in the habit of using the favor shown to them by his majesty to further their own interests, and to injure those who, for one reason or another, have incurred their animosity, is Count Philip Eulenburg, who has been again and again referred to in the Berlin newspapers as "the Troubadour." He is at the present moment German ambassador at Vienna, whence his predecessor, Prince Reuss, was ousted in spite of the eminent services of a personal character which he had rendered to the emperor, in order to make way for the count. The latter's intimacy with his sovereign is largely due to his cleverness as a poet, a dramatist, and a composer, and while he has furnished the words to many of the musical compositions of the kaiser, William has, in turn, had much of his own poetry set to music by the count.
Philip Eulenburg has been clever enough to foster William's very pardonable weakness as to his gifts as a musician and a poet, and being a man of the most charming manners, possessed of an unusual supply of tact, and extremely accomplished in many respects, he has acquired an extraordinary degree of influence over his sovereign. Indeed it may be doubted whether there is any member of the imperial entourage who stands as high in the good graces of the German ruler as does his ambassador to the Court of Vienna.
Each year the emperor makes a point of spending a week at Liebenberg, the country-seat of the count, and it has long been a matter of comment that these visits are invariably signalized by the inauguration of some political or administrative move on the part of the kaiser. It was, indeed, at Liebenberg that the emperor decided upon the dismissal from the chancellorship of General Count Caprivi, who had been unfortunate enough to incur the enmity of the Eulenburgs.
Count Philip, who possesses a fine voice, and who during the annual yachting trip of the emperor on board the Hohenzollern, is accustomed to sing duets with the monarch, and to play the latter's accompaniments, is not, as is generally supposed, the brother, but merely the cousin of Botho, Augustus, and the late Count Wend Eulenburg. His career was almost wrecked at its very outset by an incident which developed into an international question. While stationed as a young sub-lieutenant of cavalry at Bonn, he was one day inadvertently jostled in the street by a gray-haired and rather portly stranger, whom he at once addressed in the most insulting manner. Upon the stranger responding in kind, the count drew his sabre and cut the man down, inflicting upon him such a wound that he expired a short time afterwards at the hospital. There it was discovered that he was one Ott, a Frenchman, and one of the chefs of Queen Victoria, momentarily detached from his duties at Windsor Castle, in order to attend her majesty's second son, the Duke of Edinburgh,—now the reigning sovereign of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha,—during his stay on the continent. Both the queen and Prince Alfred were indignant at the outrage, which was made the subject of an acrimonious correspondence between the English, French and Prussian Governments, the result being that Count Philip was sentenced to pay heavy damages to the widow and to the orphaned children of his victim, and to undergo a year's imprisonment in a fortress.
He only joined the diplomatic profession in 1881, when he was appointed as third secretary to the German embassy at Paris, and he occupied very inferior rôles in the diplomatic service of his country until the accession to the throne of his friend and patron, Emperor William, who promoted him a few weeks later, at one bound, from the post of second secretary of the legation at Munich to the rank of Prussian minister-plenipotentiary at Aldenberg, whence he was transferred a year later to Stuttgart, then, to The Hague, and then back to Munich, as chief of the legation, which post he retained until his nomination in 1892 to the German ambassadorship at Vienna, that is to say, to the blue ribbon of the diplomatic service of the kaiser.
He is generally regarded as destined in course of time to become chancellor of the empire, in spite of the human blood with which his hands are stained.
Both the court and the public object far less to the intimacy that exists between Count Augustus Eulenburg and his imperial friend, for Augustus, who is the grand master of the imperial household and the chief executive dignitary of the court, has been the closest associate of William since the latter's earliest boyhood. He was one of those officials whom Prince Bismarck forced upon the then crown prince and crown princess, in order to keep watch over their actions and to counteract their influence on their eldest son. It was he, Count Augustus, who acted as the comforter of William whenever he was subjected to reproof or to disciplinary measures by his father or mother; who invariably espoused the lad's cause, and who contributed more than anyone else to convince William that he was a victim of the most cruel and unmerited form of parental severity and persecution. He constituted himself the mentor and the guide of the prince, initiated him into all the intricacies of the imperial court, as well as into the secrets of its most prominent members. In one word, he rendered himself so indispensable to the prince, that as soon as the latter succeeded to the throne he at once appointed Count Augustus Eulenburg to the grand mastership of the court and household.
To what extent Emperor and Empress Frederick were aware of the spirit characterizing the count's relations with their eldest son, it is difficult to say, but there is no doubt that during the last two or three years of Emperor Frederick's life, the position of Augustus in the household of "Unser Fritz" was vastly improved and facilitated by the sensational quarrels of his elder brother, Count Botho Eulenburg, the celebrated statesman, with Prince Bismarck, for both Frederick and his wife, from, that time forth, ceased to look upon Augustus as a creature and a spy of the chancellor.
How great was the intimacy between William and the count, may be gathered from the fact that Augustus was the invariable and sole companion of the emperor in that species of Haroun-al-Raschid nocturnal expeditions which his majesty was wont to undertake in the slums of his capital, for the purpose of learning what his people were saying about him. At that time, his features were far less familiar to the public than they are to-day, and by giving his moustache a different twist, and his hair another turn, he experienced no difficulty in disguising himself. The adventures which he met with during the course of these nightly prowls in the company of Count Augustus are numerous enough to fill a book. Still, while they furnished plenty of amusement, excitement, and experiences not altogether unpleasant, they involved his majesty, on one or two occasions, in so much personal danger, that the count, realizing the responsibility which would rest upon his shoulders in the eyes not merely of the nation, but of the entire world, if anything untoward happened to the monarch, induced him, though with difficulty, to abandon this species of pastime so dear to crowned heads.
Let me add that it was on the occasion of one of these expeditions that the emperor met with a very severe injury to his hand. There is an old established usage in Berlin, on New Year's eve, which prescribed that any man appearing in the street in a high or stiff hat should be incontinently bonneted, that is to say, have his hat crushed down over his eyes and ears by a blow of the fist. Emperor William, who is somewhat fond of rough horse-play, used to delight in this form of amusement, and on the first New Year's eve after his accession to the throne, he sallied forth with Augustus Eulenburg in search of adventures. Catching sight of a portly citizen of mature years walking along under the shadows of the trees that line the magnificent avenue known as "Unter den Linden," he immediately proceeded to crush the high silk hat which the man wore by a tremendous blow from his imperial fist! He was unable, however, to refrain from a cry of pain, and his companion the count, on seeing that his sovereign's hand was drenched with blood, at once summoned the two detectives who were following discreetly in the rear, and caused them to arrest the citizen. The man on being searched at the palace police station, was found to be a merchant of high standing, who, determined to get even with the practical jokers from whose brutality he himself had suffered on previous New Year's eves, had devised a sort of thick leather hat-lining, armed with long and sharp prongs, pointed outward like the quills of a porcupine. The emperor, on smashing the hat, naturally had his hand dreadfully lacerated. The citizen was kept under arrest for twenty-four hours, during which the question was discussed as to whether he should be prosecuted and punished for inflicting personal injury upon the sovereign, or not. Finally, William himself, with that good sense which so often characterizes him, gave orders for his liberation, on the ground that he could not possibly have dreamt that he would be bonneted by his sovereign, that he was, therefore, quite innocent of any intention to inflict injury upon the person of the emperor, and that he, William, had, after all, got nothing but what he deserved for playing such a prank. Moreover, in order to show the citizen that he bore him no grudge, he sent him, by way of consolation for his arrest and the destruction of his hat, a portrait bearing the autograph signature of the kaiser, as well as the words: "In memory of Sylvester-nacht."—New Year's eve is sacred to Saint Sylvester.
Count Botho Eulenburg, the elder brother of Augustus, has repeatedly held the offices of cabinet minister and Premier of Prussia. He happened to be at the head of the Department of the Interior at the time when the attempts were made by Nobiling to assassinate old Emperor William, and ever since that time has been the sworn foe of socialism, and identified with everything that is reactionary and despotic in Prussian legislation. His influence with the emperor is very great, and there is no doubt that he has contributed in a great measure to the somewhat extravagant views which the kaiser entertains with regard to the Divine Rights of monarchs, and especially concerning their responsibility, not towards their people alone, but also towards the Almighty.
Count Botho's quarrel with Prince Bismarck, originated in the following manner. The count, in accordance with a decision reached at a cabinet meeting, spoke as Minister of the Interior in the Prussian Diet in favor of placing the communal councils under the provincial board, instead of under the central government. He had no sooner sat down than a member arose and said that he was instructed by the Prime Minister, Prince Bismarck, to disavow the view taken by the Minister of the Interior. This extraordinary action of the prince was due to the fact that he had suddenly decided upon coquetting with the Liberals, for the sake of obtaining their support upon the subject of another of his little inaugurations. Count Botho immediately sent in his resignation, and did not resume office until after the disgrace of Prince Bismarck. Previous to this quarrel, however, as I have already stated, the most intimate relations had subsisted between the Eulenburgs and the Bismarcks. Indeed, Countess Marie, only daughter of Prince Bismarck, was at one time betrothed to Wend, the youngest of the three Eulenburg brothers. Three days before the day fixed for the wedding, the young man was suddenly seized with typhus, and forty-eight hours later succumbed to this awful disease. Countess Marie, it may be added, subsequently married Count Rantzau, after having been between times engaged to Baron Eisendecker, once German envoy at Washington, and now the kaiser's adviser in yachting matters, whom she jilted in consequence of differences of religious opinion.
So much for the Eulenburgs, who may be said to constitute the most influential family at the Court of Berlin, and without a description of whom no history of the life and surroundings of Emperor William could possibly be regarded as complete.
Other cronies of the kaiser, who are less influential in a political sense, and, therefore, less obnoxious to the people, are Counts Douglas, Count Dohna, and Count Goertz. Public attention, however, has often been drawn to the friendship of the kaiser for the Dohnas by the frequency of the imperial visit with which Count Richard Dohna is honored at his superb old château of Schlobitten, and likewise by reason of the fact that on two occasions William almost lost his life through carriage accidents which he sustained while out driving with the count.
[Illustration: THE RUNAWAY AT PROECKELWITZ After a drawing by Oreste Cortazzo]
The Dohnas are one of the most ancient houses of the old German nobility, and Schlobitten, with its grand old park, shaded by glorious trees, has been in the possession of the family since the fourteenth century. The castle, as now arranged, is only two hundred years old, having been reconstructed on the site, and with the ruins, of an ancient monastery and dwelling. The name of Dohna is recorded in the most important pages of Prussian history. Statesmen, generals, and in particular, confidants and cronies of their successive rulers have borne that name, and there is not a king who has reigned over Prussia, and previous to that an elector who has ruled over Brandenburg, who has not stayed at the castle of Schlobitten and occupied the antiquated four-poster bed, in which the present emperor sleeps whenever he makes a visit there.
Count Richard Dohna is a great breeder of blooded horses, a magnificent whip, and the accidents which happened to the kaiser, while out driving with him, were merely due to the fact that in each case the horses were too young, and not sufficiently broken in. On one occasion, the drag was upset into a ditch not far from Schlobitten, the kaiser and the count being severely bruised and shaken up; while at another time a splendid team got beyond the control of the count, smashed harnesses and pole, and dashed helter-skelter into the little town of Proeckelwitz, where they were fortunately stopped without further mishap.
The intimacy of the kaiser with the Dohna family serves to recall the fact that there was a daughter of this house, Countess Anna Dohna, who claimed to have become the wife of the late Emperor William. She lived for a time in London, Geneva, and then in New York, and was wont to style herself Countess Dohna-Brandenburg, having added the name of Brandenburg to that of Dohna by reason of this alleged marriage.
While in New York she lived in a large house in Lexington Avenue, which she furnished handsomely, and she never seemed to be in want of money. According to her own story she met the late Emperor William in 1825, during the lifetime of his father, King Frederick-William III., when she was sixteen years of age. After several clandestine meetings, she claimed that they were married late one night at Clegnitz, in Silesia, by a young country parson. The latter did not know the prince, who gave the name of William Count Brandenburg, and his occupation as that of an officer of the Royal Guards. The marriage certificate was duly made out, and then her husband told her that it would be expedient to keep their union secret for a time. To this she reluctantly assented.
When at length, urged by her entreaties, her husband revealed their marriage to his father, King Frederick-William III., he flew into a terrible rage, forced him to sign a renunciation of the countess's hand, and she was conveyed to a small castle near Königsberg, in East-Prussia, where she was kept a close prisoner for years. In 1837, always according to her story, she succeeded in escaping, and crossing the Polish frontier reached Warsaw, where in the following year she was recognized at a state performance of the opera given by Czar Nicholas, in honor of the King of Prussia and Prince William, who were visiting the Russian Court.
She was arrested at the theatre, and on the following morning conveyed to Eastern Russia, where she was kept under strict surveillance until the death of Frederick-William III., in 1840, led to her release. She was then permitted to return to Prussia, and the new king, Frederick-William IV., offered to compromise the matter with her. This she refused to do. Her father's death placed her in possession of a large fortune, and she spent several years in travelling.
In 1848 she intended to appeal to the Prussian National Assembly for justice, but the police got wind of it, and she was interned in her château in Silesia. On William becoming King of Prussia, she was given the alternative of leaving the country or of becoming an inmate of a lunatic asylum, so she transferred her abode to Paris, and after living for awhile in London and Geneva, came to New York in 1876.
The truth of this story having been questioned, it may be mentioned that the Prussian Staats Anzeiger, or official Berlin Gazette, of June 4, 1829, contains the following royal decree:
"By order of his majesty the king, Anna Countess Dohna having claimed to be the wife of Prince William of Prussia, I hereby decree that such a union if it ever took place, be null and void.
"FREDERICK WILLIAM, Rex.
"ANTHONY VON ALTENSTEIN,
"Secretary of State."
I have seen it mentioned both in German and foreign publications that the three Counts of Brandenburg, two of them distinguished generals, and the third for many years Prussian envoy at Brussels, were the issue of the union of Countess Anna Dohna and old Emperor William of Germany. But this is not true; for their father, a famous premier and soldier, of whom a fine statue exists at Berlin, was the son of King Frederick-William II. of Prussia, and his morganatic wife, the Countess of Dohenhoff.
With regard to Count Douglas, I may state that the kaiser's intimacy with him dates back to many years prior to his accession to the throne. Like his twin brother, Count Louis Douglas, the Swedish statesman, who until a few weeks ago occupied the post of minister of foreign affairs at Stockholm, Count Willie Douglas may be said to have royal blood in his veins, for his father, old Count Douglas, now dead, married the morganatic daughter of a royal princess of the reigning house of Baden. On the old count's death, William, the elder of the twins, inherited his mother's vast property, while Louis, the younger, took possession of his father's estates in Sweden.
William was educated in Germany, is an officer of the Prussian army, as well as a member of the Prussian House of Lords: Louis was brought up in Sweden, entered the Swedish army, became chamberlain to the Crown Prince of Sweden, married the daughter of Count Ehrensward, late minister of foreign affairs at Stockholm, and eventually succeeded to his father-in-law's post at the head of Sweden's foreign office. Like his twin brother in Prussia, he is exceedingly conservative, imbued with the necessity of retaining the old feudal prerogatives, and of placing every obstacle in the way of the rising tide of democracy. Indeed, whatever influence he exercises over the King and Crown Prince of Sweden, is as reactionary as any influence which his German brother may be said to enjoy over the kaiser.
The Douglas twins are descended from the great Scotch family of Douglas, and are therefore allied to the Duke of Hamilton and the Marquis of Queensberry. Their ancestors emigrated to Prussia from Scotland at the time of the Thirty Years' War, fought under Gustavus-Adolphus, and afterwards returned with him to Sweden, where they became members of the Swedish nobility. Count Willie, like his brother, displays all the hereditary traits of the Scotch house that bears his name, having the peculiar jaw, falling underlip, and dark complexion of the celebrated "Black Douglas." Yet neither of the twins speaks a word of English, nor has ever visited the land of his sire, though they bear the Douglas motto of "Do or Die." Count Willie has few British sympathies, but some British tastes, being famous as a four-in-hand whip, and as a magnificent shot. He is also very hospitable, and entertains at Berlin in a right royal fashion, his wealth, derived from the mines which he owns in the Hartz Mountains, enabling him to do so without hesitation on the score of expense.
It is no secret that Emperor William has, on two or three occasions, offered a cabinet office to his friend William Douglas, who has, however, invariably declined it, much to the relief of those who are convinced that the same peculiar moral and psychological affinity exists between the Douglas twins as that attributed to the Corsican brothers. It would have been, they declare, a dangerous experiment to have had one of them directing the foreign policy of Germany, and the other that of the kingdoms of Sweden and Norway.
It may interest my American readers to add that a few years ago Count Willie Douglas was the defendant in an extraordinary lawsuit at Berlin which had an American end to it. It seems that some thirty years ago a man of the name of Brandt died in the United States, leaving a fortune of several millions of dollars. Having no near relatives in America, the lawyers advertised for any heirs that he might have left behind him in Germany. The father of Count Douglas was at the time burgomaster of the little town of Aschersleben, and one day some of the inhabitants of the place bearing the name of Brandt placed a lot of papers in his hands, asking him to glance over them, and to see whether there was any truth in the statement that they were heirs to an immense fortune in America. The old count, in his capacity of burgomaster, declared that the affair looked to him very questionable, that he believed it was a mere swindle, and that there was surely nothing in it for them. Whether he returned to them the papers or not, is unknown, but he declared to the day of his death that he had restored them, whereas the Brandts of Aschersleben swear that he did not. Eventually, they brought suit against his son, not merely for the recovery of the documents, but likewise for the fortune, actually alleging that the latter had been appropriated by old Count Douglas, with the connivance of the late Prince Bismarck, who had received a large share of the plunder. It is scarcely necessary to state that they were non-suited.
Emperor William's intimacy with Count and Countess Goertz may be said to be a sort of inherited friendship, the count's father, president of the Hessian House of Lords, and his consort, a princess of Sayn-Wittgenstein, having been the most intimate friends of Emperor and Empress Frederick, whose acquaintance they made through the late Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Hesse. In order to show the affectionate relations existing between the parents of the kaiser and those of the present head of the ancient and illustrious house of Goertz, it is merely necessary to state that Professor Hintzpeter, who for a number of years directed the education of Emperor William and his brother Henry, and who, as their old tutor, retains much influence over both the imperial brothers, was selected by Emperor and Empress Frederick for the purpose, on the personal recommendation of the late Count and Countess Goertz, in whose family he had resided for a number of years as tutor to their son.
In fact, the present Count Goertz, who is some eight or nine years the senior of the emperor, can boast, like the latter, of having been a pupil of old Hintzpeter, who in some respects is the German counterpart of the late Czar Alexander's tutor, M. Pobietnotzoff. That William shares the confidence placed by his parents in the Goertz family is shown by the fact that when he found it necessary, at one time, to obtain the services of a tutor for one of his young relatives, in a case, it must be added, of particular delicacy, he at once nominated to the post Professor Krenge, who at the time was tutoring the sons of the present Count Goertz. Countess Goertz is a woman of great beauty, which she may be said to have inherited from her mother, the so-celebrated Countess of Villeneuve, wife to the Brazilian envoy to the Court of Brussels, and renowned throughout Europe on account of her loveliness.
Although the admiration which the kaiser displays for the fascinating countess is of the most undisguised character, it fails to excite the jealousy either of his consort or the count, and the relations between the empress and the countess are so close that the former has been known to lend to her friend articles of jewelry, and even of dress, for use at fancy dress balls and elsewhere. The emperor and the count are also as united and unrestrained with each other as two men can be who have the same tastes, who have been intimately acquainted since childhood, and whose parents have been close friends before them. It is doubtful whether William ever enjoys himself so much, or feels so thoroughly at home, as when visiting the Goertzes at Schlitz. There his days are spent in shooting and hunting with the count, and the evenings in composing new melodies, and setting songs to music with the countess. The emperor's children and the young Goertzes are bound by equal ties of affection, and are old-time playmates, so that there seems every likelihood of this friendship between the Hohenzollerns and the former reigning sovereign house of Goertz being continued in the third generation.
No account of the emperor's private life can be properly written without including a brief sketch of General Count von Hahnke, and of Baron von Lucanus. The former is the chief of the military cabinet of the emperor, and the other is at the head of his civil cabinet, that is to say, he occupies the post of principal private secretary. Both of them accompany the emperor wherever he goes, and in fact constitute his very shadow, enjoying by reason of their proximity to the sovereign, and by their close association with him, a far greater degree of power and influence than any cabinet minister.
Baron Lucanus is an extremely good-looking man, whose popular nickname at Berlin, namely, "the emperor's Blackie Man," is in nowise due to any swarthiness of complexion, but to the fact that among the great dignitaries in attendance on the emperor, he is the only one in civilian attire, while moreover he is invariably selected by the sovereign to convey to any cabinet minister, whose resignation is required, the imperial intimation "that he has ceased to please."
It was Baron von Lucanus who communicated to Prince Bismarck the emperor's request and subsequent peremptory command for the surrender of the chancellorship of the empire, and it was he, too, who was sent to ask Bismarck's successor, General Count Caprivi, for his resignation; in fact, there has not been a single ministerial head to fall during the last ten years—and they have been very numerous during the present reign—where Herr von Lucanus has not been the imperial emissary of these evil tidings. This is so well known in Berlin that the moment the baron is seen to be calling at the residence of any distinguished statesman who happens to be in office, it is at once taken for granted that the axe has once more fallen, and that it is another case of a ministerial downfall.
The Berliners declare that Emperor William pitches upon Lucanus for these particular jobs in consequence of his being the son of a Halberstadt druggist, and as such, more likely to be proficient in the art of sugar-coating the bitter pills than any mere military officer! He owes his patent of nobility to the late Emperor Frederick, who entertained a very high opinion of his intelligence, and it is worthy of note that he first came to the fore in the entourage of the emperor when Prince Bismarck's power as chancellor commenced to wane. He is a man of about fifty, and served for a quarter of a century in the Department of Public Worship. It was, however, as an expert in art matters, and as an intelligent assistant in the organization of the Imperial Museum of Science and Art at Berlin, that he first attracted the notice and good-will of the late emperor, and particularly of the Empress Frederick.
His military colleague, General Count von Hahnke, although a charming man, is, nevertheless, one of the most bitterly-hated officers of the German army; this is due to the fact that he has virtually usurped the prerogatives and the power of the minister of war, who has been reduced to a mere instrument of his wishes. This is not altogether the fault of the general, for the emperor insists on retaining absolute control of the army in his own hands, and of exercising its command in every particular, no appointment being made without his initiative and sanction, while everything is done through Count Hahnke as supreme head of the military cabinet of his majesty.
A few years ago the general lost his son under singularly tragical and somewhat mysterious circumstances. The misfortune occurred during one of the annual yachting trips of the kaiser, young Hahnke being a lieutenant on board the yacht. According to the official version, the young officer met with his death while coasting down a mountain road at one of the Norwegian ports at which the yacht had touched, his bicycle getting beyond his control, and precipitating itself with its rider over a low stone parapet into a fierce torrent hundreds of feet below. The emperor happened at the time to have a bruise on the face, caused by a block and tackle swinging against him during a squall, while on deck, and on the strength of this temporary disfigurement, a story most painful to the emperor was circulated to the effect that his black eye was due to a blow from young Hahnke, who resented some indignity in connection with the practical jokes and rough horse-play so frequent on board the Hohenzollern during the emperor's annual holiday. It was added that the young officer had been given by military and naval etiquette the alternative of blowing out his brains, or of taking his life in some other way, as the only means of saving his name from disgrace and his honor from loss; and a certain degree of color was given to the tale by the fact that it was published at full length in a London society newspaper, at the very time when its proprietor and editor was sojourning at Marienbad with the Prince of Wales, and in daily intercourse with the British heir apparent, who was naturally supposed to know the truth about young Hahnke's death. Perhaps the most striking and convincing evidence of the absurd fabrication of this story, which has given much sorrow, both to the emperor and empress, is to be found in the fact that the young officer's father remained at the head of the emperor's military cabinet, and has never abandoned, even temporarily, his service near the kaiser; this the general would certainly not have done had William been in any sense of the word responsible for the death of his boy. In fact it was the kindly and tactful sympathy of both the emperor and the empress that enabled the bereaved father to bear his loss with fortitude, and his gratitude for the kindness shown to him by his sovereign is of a deep and undying quality.