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.