Like the aged pontiff at Rome, William manifests a great predilection for the telephone. There are telephonic instruments in his library, in his workroom, and even in his bed-chamber, and quite a considerable portion of the day is spent talking over the wires to his ministers, government officials, relatives, courtiers or mere friends. He seems to find the same pleasure in calling up the various government departments that he does in alarming the various garrisons at night time, being evidently under the impression that by so doing he keeps the officials strictly attentive to their duties, and convinced that if not the eye, at any rate the ear of the emperor is on the qui vive! Nor are the government offices safe from being rung up by his majesty over the wires even at night time. For the past two or three years he has insisted that at the ministry of foreign affairs, at the ministry of the interior, and at the war and naval departments, at least one of the divisional chiefs and half a dozen clerks should be kept on duty all night long, in order to attend to any business or to communicate to him without delay anything that they may regard as needing his immediate attention.
Berlin is the only capital where the principal government offices are thus kept open for official business all night long, and the circumstance serves to furnish another illustration of the extraordinary activity, energy, and impatience of delay that distinguish the emperor, who wants everything done right away, without a moment's waiting!
Emperor William gives the telephone companies at Berlin and at Potsdam far more trouble than any other of their subscribers, for when he telephones to any of the government departments, or to dignitaries or officials of high rank, the operators at the central office are under the strictest orders to abstain from listening to the conversation, and are forced to rise from their seats and remove to a distance from the wires. Anyone caught disobeying in this particular is subject not only to dismissal, but to serious unpleasantness on the part of the police.
When the emperor rings up anybody, he does not announce his identity, taking it for granted that the tones of his voice are sufficiently well known to reveal it. It has been noted, moreover, that he commences all his conversations over the wire with the pronoun "I," while the verb "command," either in the past or in the present tense, almost invariably follows. This is quite sufficient to show who is talking.
William is the first sovereign of his line to accept the hospitality of his subjects. Prior to his advent to the throne, such a thing as the monarch attending any private entertainment or dinner given by one of his lieges was altogether unknown. Neither King Frederick-William III., King Frederick-William IV., nor old Emperor William, whose reigns extended over nearly ninety years of the nineteenth century, ever once honored any member of the nobility, no matter how high in rank, with their presence for a single evening or night, except during the course of the annual manoeuvres, when the monarch, as commander-in-chief of the army, was quartered in some château, much in the same manner as the officers of minor rank and the soldiers. Emperor William, however, following the example of his British relatives, and greatly to the dismay of all the old-fashioned authorities on the etiquette of the Court of Berlin, has adopted the practice of inviting himself out to dinner in town, and to shooting-parties in the country, in a manner that is absolutely startling, even to his English relatives; for whereas the latter never dine out anywhere, unless the list of guests invited to meet them is previously submitted to them for consideration and revision, in order to avoid being brought into contact with people that are not congenial, the kaiser, on the other hand, when he hears that a dinner is about to be given by one of his friends or followers, frequently invites himself either at the last moment, an hour or two before the time fixed for the meal, or else arrives unannounced and uninvited, knowing full well that he will always be welcome, since his coming can only be regarded as a particular mark of imperial regard and favor toward the giver of the entertainment.
Thus, while Count Shuvaloff was still Russian ambassador at Berlin, the emperor was in the habit of dropping in unannounced about luncheon time, and of sitting down with the count and countess, the latter being as often as not in the négligée of a mere tea-gown, and more than once when he had sat with them longer than he intended, and found that there was no time left to return to the palace before proceeding to the railroad station to take his departure for Potsdam or some other place, he would ask leave of the count to use his telephone, ring up the empress, and not only bid her adieu, but also dispatch her a kiss over the wires, in the most charmingly domestic fashion.
William prides himself in no small degree on his descent through Queen Victoria in an unbroken line from the Biblical King David, and claims that he, therefore, belongs to the same family as the founder of Christianity. Hanging in a conspicuous position in his workroom in the "Neues-Palais" at Potsdam, is a copy of the royal family tree, showing the name of King David engrossed at the root of it, with that of Emperor William at the top. According to this tree, the reigning house of England is descended from King David through the eldest daughter of Zedekiah, who, with her sister, fled to Ireland in charge of the prophet Jeremiah,—then an old man,—to be married to Heremon, the king of Ulster of the period.
Curiously enough, a Mr. Glover, a clergyman of the Church of England, who had devoted the greater portion of his life to the study of genealogy, wrote to Queen Victoria a letter in 1869, informing her that he had discovered her to be descended in an unbroken line from King David. Her majesty sent for him to come to Windsor, and to his astonishment informed him that what he thought he had been the first to discover had been known to herself and to the prince consort for many years.
Naturally, William, with his religious ideas, has always been deeply interested in this family tree, and soon after his accession to the throne requested his grandmother to let him have a copy thereof, which was sent to him most handsomely engrossed and magnificently framed. Its contemplation has, of course, tended to increase his belief in the divine origin of his authority, since, if he does not, like the old kings of France, describe himself as "first cousin of the Almighty," he can at any rate claim to be a near kinsman of the founder of Christianity.
Notwithstanding all the emperor's manifest desire to render himself agreeable to the French, and his evident eagerness to assuage by gracious and chivalrous courtesy the bitterness resulting from the war of 1870 and the annexation of Alsace-Lorraine, he has absolutely declined since he ascended the throne to permit France's national hymn, "The Marseillaise," to be played at his court, at any of the imperial and royal theatres, or by any German military or naval band. When he entertains the French ambassador at dinner or receives him in state and wishes to pay him musical honors, he causes the old "March of St. Denis," in use at Versailles prior to the great revolution, which is in every sense of the word a Bourbon hymn, to be played.