The anonymous letters had literally spared no one, not even that most blameless and excellent of women, the Empress Augusta-Victoria; nor was there anybody of mark who had not received at least several of them. But for some reason or other which was not understood at the time, they seemed to be imbued with an especially relentless and savage animosity against the charming Countess "Fritz" von Hohenau, who must not be confounded with her less attractive sister-in-law, Countess "Willy" von Hohenau; for whereas the latter is by birth a princess of Hohenlohe and a niece of the imperial chancellor of that ilk, Countess Fritz is by birth a Countess von der Decken, and rejoices in the Christian name of Charlotte.
If Countess Fritz has one weakness which in any degree lends itself to unfriendly criticism and ridicule it is the pride which she manifests in her relationship through marriage to the reigning house of Prussia, and in her being the sister-in-law of that Prince Albert of Prussia, who is regent of the Duchy of Brunswick, her husband, Count Fritz von Hohenau, being a half-brother to Prince Albert. It is owing to this very innocent weakness of the countess that she was nicknamed "Lottchen von Preussen," or "Die Preussiche Lotte" that is to say "Lotte of Prussia" and at least a third of the hundreds of anonymous letters confided to the mails during the period extending between 1892 and 1896 were filled with the most scurrilous remarks concerning the unfortunate "Lottchen von Preussen."
The letters imputed to the countess almost every crime under the sun. Inasmuch as her husband's principal friend was Baron Schrader, who was of course frequently seen in her company at the races and at the opera, it naturally followed that she was charged with an altogether questionable intimacy with him. In fact, she was accused of sharing her favors between him and the emperor, and in the letters that reached both the kaiser and his consort, it was asserted that she was, moreover, in the habit of constantly boasting among her friends about the influence which as "Sultana" she was able to exercise over the ruler of the German Empire.
It was on the receipt of one of these letters that the emperor without a moment's warning abruptly ordered Count and Countess Fritz Hohenau to leave Berlin and to transfer their residence to Hanover. The count and countess were not long in discovering the cause of their disgrace, and bitterly incensed, at once resolved to leave no stone unturned in their efforts to discover the culprit.
In this determination they were supported by the "Willy" von Hohenaus, by the various members of the Hohenlohe family, by Baron Schrader, Baron Hugo Reischach, chamberlain to the Empress Frederick, Prince and Princess Aribert of Anhalt, the latter being a granddaughter of Queen Victoria, Prince and Princess Albert of Saxe-Altenburg, and last, but not least, Baron von Tausch, the chief of the secret police attached to the particular service of the emperor.
I have already mentioned that suspicions had at first been directed against the empress's only brother, Duke Ernest-Gunther of Schleswig-Holstein. Somehow or other, probably through reading the detective novels of Gaboriau, Baron Schrader became imbued with the idea that the most successful manner of discovering the identity of the suspected writer of the anonymous letters would be to carefully examine the blotting-pads which either he or she were in the habit of using. Accordingly, Countess Fritz von Hohenau took advantage of the admiration and devotion entertained for her by Count Augustus Bismarck to induce him to bring to her the blotting-pad habitually used by the duke, to whose household he belonged, as chief aid-de-camp. The count, very reluctantly, it is true, brought to Madame von Hohenau, the said blotting-pad, and it was immediately submitted to a most careful and even microscopical examination by her husband, herself, and their friends. But in spite of every effort it was impossible to discover the slightest analogy between the writing of the anonymous letters and the impressions left on the blotting-pad of the duke. The countess and her assistants in this queer task, therefore, came to the conclusion that they would have to search in a different direction.
It is impossible to say with any degree of certainty how suspicion was then directed towards Baron Kotze. But I am under the impression that his name was first mentioned in connection with the affair by Baron Schrader, who like himself was a Master of Ceremonies of the Court of Berlin. The vast wealth enjoyed by the Kotzes, as well as the extraordinary favor manifested towards them by the emperor and the members of the reigning family, had not unnaturally rendered them objects of no little jealousy on the part of other personages belonging to the court circle. The exceedingly sarcastic and malevolent tongue of the Baroness Kotze, and the somewhat coarse flavor of the ever-ready jest and quip of her jovial, loud-voiced, hail-fellow-well-met mannered husband did not tend to render the couple very popular.
Baron Kotze's mother had been an heiress in her own right as the daughter of the court banker, Krause, while the baron's wife is the daughter of that extraordinary old General von Treskow, who for so long commanded the division of Guards, and whose reputation as one of the bravest and most dashing officers of the war of 1870, alone saved him from the ridicule which his corseted waist, his painted cheeks, his dyed moustache, and his youthful wig, would otherwise have excited. While he himself has no drop of Jewish blood in his veins, both his daughter, Madame Kotze, and her brother possess the facial features of the Semitic race in a most marked degree, and despite their protestations to the contrary, have undoubtedly Hebrew ancestors, if not on the father's side, at any rate on that of the mother. Old General Treskow was very rich indeed, his country seat at Friedrichsfeld being one of the most magnificent country seats in the neighborhood of Berlin.
During the early years of the reign of Emperor William, his eldest sister, Princess Charlotte, and her husband, Prince Bernhardt of Saxe-Meiningen, occupied a lovely little palace, or rather, I should say large and roomy villa on the outskirts of the Thiergarten, at Berlin. Among their near neighbors were Baron and Baroness Kotze. Little Ursula Kotze, the daughter of the baroness, was precisely of the same age as Princess Fedora of Saxe-Meiningen, the only child of Princess Charlotte, and the two young girls soon became inseparable friends. The relations thus established soon extended to the parents, and while Princess Charlotte,—herself disposed to satirizing and ridiculing everybody, and like many royal personages, passionately fond of gossip, especially when spiced with scandal,—found never-ceasing entertainment in the witty comments of the baroness about the social events of the day, and in her reports of the latest stories current concerning mutual acquaintances and friends, Prince Bernhardt, in spite of his seriousness, and his fond predilection for Hellenic research, could not help laughing and enjoying the merry sallies of Baron Kotze. In fact, the Kotzes ended by becoming the most intimate friends of the princely Saxe-Meiningen couple, whose taste for their society was eventually shared by the Empress Frederick to a degree that excited the utmost jealousy and ill-will of her chamberlain, Baron Reischach. The latter was, therefore, only too ready to accept the view expressed by his friend. Baron Schrader, to the effect that Baron Kotze was the author of the anonymous letters.
I think that it was in the latter part of 1892 that the Prince and Princess of Saxe-Meiningen, having made up their minds to visit Greece and the Holy Land, invited Baron and Baroness Kotze to accompany them. Some quarrel, however, took place between the princess and the baroness during this trip, which they did not complete together, and when they took up their residence once more at Berlin the formerly so intimate relations between the two families ceased absolutely. It was about this time that it became known that Princess Charlotte either during her trip to the Orient, or just before she started, had in some unexplainable manner lost the diary in which she had, like so many members of the fair sex, been accustomed to describe her daily impressions, and to the pages of which she was wont to impart sentiments and opinions that she did not venture to confide to anybody else.