Excepting in severe winters it is rare that any sleighing is possible in Berlin, but once there came a short frost accompanied by a good deal of snow, and immediately the aspect of the streets changed. All the cabs were replaced by wooden sleighs; the rather depressed-looking cabmen (it was before automobiles had taken possession of Berlin) became cheerful and picturesque in fur caps and sheepskin coats. Two light sleighs, each drawn by a couple of horses, appeared every afternoon in the courtyard of the Schloss with a musical clash and tingle of bells, and away the Princess would drive over the hard-trampled snow of the streets till the Grünewald, the beautiful forest skirting Berlin, was reached.
To keep the snow thrown up by the hoofs of the horses from falling into the sleigh, white snow-cloths with red borders were stretched from their collars and tied to each corner of the splashboard. These filled out to the wind like sails, giving the impression that the sleigh was being borne along by them. In the Grünewald were a good many other sleighs gliding along with a merry jangle. Behind, on a tiny seat, his feet on the runners, sat the Princess’s footman enveloped in a big coat with triple cape and Ohren-Klappen (ear-lappets) over his ears. Sometimes sleighs are driven from the back, or more commonly by a person inside, but these have a seat in front for the driver. It is not easy to steer a horse-sleigh round a corner, as it has a tendency to skid off sideways. At the New Palace, when a hard frost came, it was in later years no unusual thing to see the Crown Prince and Princess driving in a sleigh, followed by a string of young officers and their wives on ordinary children’s toboggans, several drawn by one horse. Occasionally one of the fair sleighers, responsive to an unexpected movement of the horse, would drop off behind, and some of the rest of the party had to come back and replace her. There could not have been much enjoyment in travelling in that way, unprotected from the cold, though doubtless the occasional bump on to the ground helped to restore the circulation.
But the occasions for sleighing in the neighbourhood of Berlin are very rare indeed, as there is seldom quite enough depth of snow, so that opportunities had to be snatched or they might be gone in another hour or two. The Princess always grasped the earliest possible opportunity when sleighing was practicable, and enjoyed some delightful drives through the silent frozen solitudes beside the marshes of the Havel, whose brown sedges broke the whiteness of the shore, down by Werder (the cherry-island, where in spring the blossom of cherry-trees recalls the past winter), all along the ice-bound blue-grey river streaked with white where the blasts from the north blew the snow into long ripples, back through the unbroken purity of the lovely Wild-park with its troops of dun-brown deer moving silently under the snow-laden branches, waiting for the forester to bring their daily ration of hay and chestnuts.
But for the most part the snow comes and goes quickly, as in England, and in Berlin it is rapidly cleared from the streets and tipped into the river. Even in Belle Vue it quickly becomes black and sullied, for the railway runs through one corner of the park and the smoke of the trains plentifully besprinkles all the shrubs and bushes with smuts.
Belle Vue was sometimes the scene of the great hunt for Easter eggs, in which His Majesty himself used to take a very active part.
About twenty children were invited to partake in this festivity, and the preparations for Easter in the way of gifts seemed only a very little less than those at Christmas. The Empress usually gave every person in her service a piece of Berlin porcelain—beautiful hand-painted coffee-or tea-cups, dessert-plates, vases or candlesticks. In addition to these things, flowers arranged to look like eggs were always sent to the suite by Her Majesty, and the children invited to the Eier-Suchen, as it was called, each received a huge cardboard egg filled with toys, postcards, trinkets and bonbons, besides a variety of chocolate eggs wrapped in bright-coloured papers.
All the eggs had to be looked for in various hiding-places, and each child was provided with a basket to hold what he or she found. If the weather promised to keep fine, the eggs were hidden in the garden among the bushes; but if it appeared likely to be wet, then the hunt took place in the Schloss itself. Sometimes the Emperor insisted on hiding all the eggs, as he considered that he knew the best places for them; but once he and his adjutants made an unfortunate choice of the porcelain stoves as appropriate nesting-places, with the result that the chocolate eggs melted away under the influence of the heat and betrayed their presence by long brown stalactites dripping to the floor below.
At one of these “egg-parties"—which were apt to be a little stiff at first, as the children were overawed, and probably over-admonished as to their behaviour before coming—the Emperor was much amused by a small boy of seven, the little Prince of Saxe-Altenburg, whose father has now succeeded to the principality. The little fellow arrived at Belle Vue clad in a most immaculate white sailor-suit and white linen cap, but in his earnest pursuit of eggs he thrust himself into the heart of the thickest and sootiest bushes, conscientiously penetrated the most tangled thorny shrubs, explored the coke-cellar of the greenhouse, and emerged at last with his face covered with black smears and the dazzling whiteness of his garments seriously diminished. When all the children were reassembled with their eggs, this small Prince, regardless of the smuts on his hands and nose, and perhaps a little weary of the stiff atmosphere, which prevailed in the presence of Their Majesties, with a smile, produced from his pocket a pair of motor-goggles, which he assumed with an aspect of the greatest joy, and after sweeping the assembled girls and boys with a sunshiny glance which left a ripple of laughter behind, turned his smiling face to the Emperor and grinned confidingly. He effectually broke the ice, and the stiffness vanished at once. The children lapsed into naturalness, forgot that they were wearing their best frocks, and followed the still “motor-goggled” Prince in a wild chase round the bushes and flower-beds. It was he who really made the party a social success. All the children went home a little smudgy, but feeling that they had had an unusually good time.
CHAPTER VII
DONAU-ESCHINGEN AND METZ
THE time came very soon when Prince Joachim was sent away, the victim of acute home-sickness, to join his brothers in Ploen; and it was then resolved that the Princess, who felt his absence keenly, should be also provided with the necessary stimulus and society of children of her own age.