The Empress was attended by one only of her ladies—the youngest of the four resident Hof-Damen, who would be on duty the whole time; but as in Rominten there are no ceremonious occasions and no constant changes of costume—one of the chief burdens of Court life—the duties of the lady-and gentleman-in-waiting are comparatively light.
We had a very merry supper in the train, the Emperor being in an extremely happy, not to say hilarious mood, his face constantly crinkled with laughter. He told one small anecdote after another, some of them almost childish, but irresistibly comic when accompanied by his infectious laugh. One was of a child at a Volks-Schule who wrote an essay on the Lion as follows: “The Lion is a fearful beast with four legs and a tail. He has a still more terrible wife called the Tiger.”
The royal hunt uniform, which is only worn by those in the royal service or by persons to whom the Emperor grants permission, is extremely picturesque, being of a soft olive-green, with high tanned-leather boots and a belt round the waist from which is suspended the Hirschfänger or short hunting-knife. In the soft green hat, turned up at both sides, is generally fastened either the tail-feathers of the capercailzie, or the beard of a gemsbock, which sticks up like a shaving-brush at the back.
At supper everybody was wearing ordinary costume, but they all assembled at breakfast next morning after their night in the train in complete hunting-dress, even to the footmen who waited at table. Although I possessed no uniform, unwilling to be a jarring note in the hunting-harmony, I had provided myself with a suitable green Sports-Kostüm, while the Princess had a regulation green Letevka (Norfolk jacket) and hunting-knife all complete.
The train passed through the station of Cadinen, but it was a further journey of eight hours to reach Gross-Rominten, distant some seven or eight miles from the hunting-lodge itself.
The usual rows of flower-crowned school-children lined the path and threw flowers into the carriages and automobiles. All the population of the country-side had, of course, turned out to see Their Majesties, and through a flutter of handkerchiefs and waving of hats the procession of carriages passed, presently entering the great 90,000-acre forest.
Formerly the village where the Emperor has built himself a house was called Teer-bude, which might be translated Tarbooth. It was a poor place, inhabited by people who made a spare living by distilling tar from the pine-trees; and although the forest belonged to the Crown it had not been properly developed and was in a somewhat neglected condition.
A little stream called the Rominte ran through the district, so the Emperor changed the name of the place to Rominten, and with characteristic energy and determination set himself to build and improve.
His frequent visits to Norway had given him a love for the houses there, built of pine logs; and having all the necessary material at hand, he determined to build in the Norwegian style of architecture.
The road to this Jagd-Schloss lay through long vistas of pines, which grow here to an enormous height—though a few years ago the devastations of a caterpillar called die Nonne (the Nun) had destroyed a great many of the trees and made fearful havoc. The road wound past places where whole plantations had perished and all the young trees were “in mourning"—that is to say, they each had bands of tar-smeared paper round their trunks to prevent the inroads of the insidious enemy. The Emperor tried to persuade one lady that these black bands had been put on the trees because an Ober-Förster was dead; but being of a sceptical turn of mind, and knowing a little about forestry, she accepted the Imperial explanation with some reserve.