One day the Princess had ridden alone with me, and we were returning from the “Hercules” together in an automobile. The road down the steep hillside towards the castle is cut in a series of zigzags with very sharp turns, and at the first of these, the chauffeur failing to turn early enough, the car as nearly as possible toppled over the edge, its front wheels being just on the verge when he was able to stop. Another inch would have sent it over, crashing down among the trees. The Princess said afterwards that it was “a thrilling moment,” and I agreed that it was one of those deeply interesting intervals of time which make one feel keenly alive. She did not move or say a word as we hung, but gripped her riding-whip rather hard, and only when the big car slowly backed and turned into a safer position gave a long deep sigh of relief. She rather enjoyed novel sensations, and especially gloried in the description of her own emotions at the critical moment. Like the fat boy in “Pickwick” she wanted to make “your blood run cold” with the narration of hairbreadth escapes and dangerous situations.
When the afternoons were too hot to walk, His Majesty almost invariably played lawn-tennis. Grass courts are non-existent in Germany—at least they are used only by those people who do not take lawn-tennis seriously; and all good courts are made of a kind of concrete first used at Homburg, the composition of which is supposed to be a secret. It is an excellent preparation, possessing a certain elasticity approximating to turf, and has the advantage of drying quickly. Even if turf lawns could be grown as they are in England—and I have never met with any that remotely resembled their close, fine texture—the heavy thunderstorms which prevail in that district during the hot weather would frequently make it impossible to use them.
His Majesty plays lawn-tennis in rather crude-looking shirts and ties, and usually wears a Panama hat. Unlike most men, he looks perhaps less well in such a “get-up” than in anything else. Young officers from the neighbouring barracks are often sent for to join in a set, and the Ober-Gouvernante, who was an expert player, often had to upset all her arrangements for the afternoon on being requested to play with His Majesty. As the Princess grew older she became quite a respectable player, and all the young princes, especially the Crown Prince and Prince Adalbert, were good at the game, which is exceedingly popular in Germany.
In the evenings, when it grew rather cooler, a picnic supper was often eaten in some spot among the hills. Sometimes we drove there in carriages, and it was the pride of the Master of the Horse to turn out four or five four-in-hands, which made a great sensation among the tourists as they emerged from the gates of the Schloss.
The Royal Stables possessed some very fine black Mecklenburg horses which were used on these occasions, but the all-conquering automobile has lately been preferred by His Majesty, who likes to get quickly over the ground, and also to go farther afield than horses can take him.
Those suppers in the hills were very amusing, especially if, as often happened, the Emperor decided that he and the Empress should do some of the cooking. In spite of all assertions to the contrary, the Empress knows nothing whatever about cooking, although a good part of the civilized world pictures her as daily bending over saucepans and mixing ingredients for puddings. The nearest approach to the culinary art which she has ever practised was dexterously “tossing” a pancake, which she did very neatly, and was exceedingly gratified by the applause of the surrounding ladies, one of whom dropped hers on to the ground. It happened, of course, at one of these picnics, which are accompanied by portable stoves and several cooks with the necessary implements and materials of their trade. Some of the gentlemen of the suite, those imbued with the old Prussian spirit of economy which believes in limiting avenues of expenditure, often expressed impatience and disapproval of these suppers.
“Now look!” said one of them to me: “there are four carts for the kitchens alone—horses, coachmen, grooms; think of the work all this has caused these poor cooks"—he glanced at four white-clad individuals who were peaceably pursuing their avocations under the shade of a tree, and appeared to be quite as happy as the rest of us.
“I think they really enjoy it,” I said deprecatingly; “of course it is a trouble—picnics usually are; but there are plenty of horses in the stables—they may as well come out here as not.”
He shook his head and sighed.
“Ah, it is a different spirit,” he said sadly. “My father used to tell me how simply the Old Emperor William lived. Never took more than one adjutant with him, not this crowd"—and he waved his hand at the row of gentlemen whose gaze was concentrated on the Emperor engaged in concocting some kind of a strawberry Bowle. “Never used more than one carriage if he could help it, at most two. Look at that procession"—and his gaze wandered dubiously to the long line of vehicles which stood in the shade a little way down the hill. We could hear the clink of bits and the stamp of the waiting horses.