We have been having in Stuttgart what an intensely loyal newspaper-pen
calls "Kaiser days." That is, days in which the city has been glorified
by the imperial presence. We have been having, too, "Kaiser weather,"
for they say the hale old man whenever he comes brings with him sunshine
and clear skies. Before his arrival all was flutter and expectation.
Festoons and wreaths and inscriptions, waving banners, bright ribbons
and flowers, were everywhere displayed, giving the whole place a happy,
welcoming air. The decorations were extremely effective and graceful.
Koenigstrasse, the chief business street, looked like a bower. Lovely
great arches were thrown across it, and every building was gay with
garlands, flowers, and flags. The variety of the designs was as
noticeable as their beauty. Sometimes the colors of the Empire and those
of Wuertemberg--the black, white, and red, and black and red--floated
together. Sometimes to these was added the Stuttgart city colors, black
and yellow. Many buildings displayed, with these three, the Prussian
black and white, while other great blocks had large flags of Prussia and
Wuertemberg and the Empire as a centre ornament, and myriads of little
ones, representing all the German States, fluttering from every window.
One saw often the yellow and red of Baden, the green and white of
Saxony, the white and red of Hesse-Darmstadt, and the pretty, light-blue
and white of Bavaria, that always looks so innocent and girlish, amid so
much warlike red and bold yellow, as if it were meant for dainty
neckties and ribbons, and not for the colors of a nation. Many good
souls mourn that even now, after its consolidation, the German
Fatherland is so very much divided into little sections. Let them take
comfort where it may be found. Were not the rainbow hues of banners and
ribbons a goodly sight in the pleasant September sunshine? Ribbons, too,
have their uses, and these, of many colors, were a thousand times more
effective than any one flag duplicated again and again, even the stars
and stripes. Pretty and joyous were they, floating on the breeze: they
told tales of the different lands they represented, and it was no light
task at first to understand their languages, there were so very many of
them, such multitudes of brave little banners of brilliant hues, and all
to welcome the Kaiser.
"Hail to our Kaiser!" said one inscription,--"Welcome to Suabia!" Poems,
too, in golden letters fitly framed, were here and there waiting to meet
him and do him honor. But the prettiest greeting was the simplest: "To
the German Kaiser a _Schwaebisch Gruess Gott_," which was over an
evergreen arch in the Koenigstrasse, and looked so very sturdy and
honest in the midst of all the pomp and the grand inscriptions that
called him Barbablanca, Imperator, and Triumphator. The house of General
von Schwarzkoppen, commander of the Wuertemberg troops, and the house of
the Minister of War also, displayed, with the national colors, stacks of
arms of every description, from those of ancient times down to the
present day, at regular intervals between the windows, under long green
festoons. At the American Consul's the flags of Germany hung with the
stars and stripes. Ears of corn and cornflowers, which are the Kaiser's
_Lieblingsblumen_, were woven into the wreaths on one house. Everywhere
were evidences of busy fingers and happy ideas. At 4 P. M. of the 22d,
while a salute was thundering from the Schutzenhaus, the imperial extra
train entered the city. Even the locomotive looked conscious of
sustaining unwonted honors, proudly wearing a garland of oak-leaves
round the smokestack, and a circle of little fluttering flags.
At the moment the train came into the station the band accompanying the
guard of honor gave a brilliant greeting, to which was added the "Hoch"
of welcome. His imperial majesty the Kaiser descended from the car and
embraced his majesty the king, who was waiting on the platform to
receive him. While the crown prince, the grand dukes of Baden and
Mecklenbuerg-Schwerin, Prince Karl of Prussia, Prince August of
Wuertemberg, and other distinguished persons were coming out of the
train, the Kaiser stepped in front of the soldiers and greeted the
generals, ministers, and all the gentlemen of the court who were there,
cordially.
Then the _Oberbuergermeister_, with committees in black coats and white
rosettes behind him, in behalf of the city, made his little speech,
which I will not quote because we all know what mayors have to say on
such occasions, and this was quite the proper thing, as mayors'
addresses always are. Indeed, if I only venture to give the first
half-dozen words, I fear that people who are not used to the German form
of expression will be alarmed, and will say gently, "Not any more at
present, thank you."
"Allerdurchlauchtigster grossnaedigster Kaiser and Konig
allerguaedigster Herr!" This is the glorious way it began. Isn't it
fine? Can any one look at that "allerdurchlauchtigster" without
involuntarily making an obeisance? Aren't these words entirely
appropriate to head a huge procession of aldermen, and other pompous
municipal boards, and do credit to a great city? And wouldn't you or I
be a little intimidated if any one should say them to us?
The Kaiser is, however, accustomed to having such epithets hurled at
him. He was therefore not dismayed, and replied somewhat as follows:--
"This is the first time since the glorious war of the German
nation that I have visited your city. I accept with pleasure the
friendly reception which you have prepared for me, and heartily
unite with you in the good wishes for our German Fatherland
which you in your greeting have expressed. Until now we have
only sowed, but the seed will spring up. In this I rely upon
your king, who has ever loyally stood by my side. [Here he
turned and extended his hand to the king. This as a dramatic
'point' was very good indeed.] Assure the city that I rejoice to
be within its walls."
After which were more and more "Hochs," and then the _illustrissimi_
seated themselves in the carriages which were waiting to convey them
slowly through the crowded streets. Along the whole route where the
procession passed were fire-companies with glittering helmets, different
clubs and vereins, school-children,--the girls in white, with wreaths of
flowers to cast before the emperor,--and soldiers, all stationed in two
long lines. Through the alley so formed the carriages passed, and,
behind, the dense crowd reached to the houses.
The people seemed very eager to see the Kaiser, but their curiosity was
more strongly manifested than their enthusiasm, this first day of his
visit, at least so it appeared to us. The loyal Tagblatt, however, says
that the cries of the multitude rose to the skies in a deafening clamor,
or something equally strong. But our eyes and ears told us that while
the people continuously cheered, they were very temperate in their
demonstrations. There was more warmth and volume in the voices when they
greeted the crown prince. But Moltke alone kindled the real fire of
enthusiasm. They cheered him in a perfect abandonment of delight.
Hundreds of his old soldiers gave the great field-marshal far more
homage than they accorded the Kaiser. As soon as he came in sight there
was instantly something in the voices that one had missed before.
In the procession, first, were some of the city authorities, police and
city guard, mounted, preceding the carriage in which the Kaiser and king
rode. This was drawn by six white horses, with outriders in
scarlet-and-gold livery. The two sovereigns chatted together, and the
Kaiser looked in a friendly way upon the people, often acknowledging
their greetings by a military salute.
Next came the crown prince,--"the stately, thoroughly German hero, with
his dark-blond full beard," says the German reporter,--and with him were
the grand duke of Baden and Adjutant Baldinger. Many carriages followed,
full of celebrities. Prince Karl of Prussia was there, Prince August von
Wuertemberg, Prince of Hohenzollern, Princes Wilhelm and Hermann of
Saxe-Weimar. In the sixth carriage sat the great, silent Moltke, with
his calm face, received with storms of cheering, and he would put up his
hand with a deprecating gesture, as if to appease the tumult his
presence created. There were, besides, magnates and dignitaries of all
descriptions in the long train. Generals and majors and hofraths, counts
and dukes, men with well-known names, men recognized as brave and
brilliant soldiers; but it is scarcely expedient to tell who they all
are. My pen has so accustomed itself to-day to writing the names of
sovereigns, and to linger lovingly over the beautiful six-syllable words
that cluster round a throne, it has imbibed from these august sources a
lofty exclusiveness. It says it really can't be expected to waste many
strokes on mere dukes. "Everybody of course cannot be born in the
purple," it admits,--this it writes slowly with long, liberal
sweeps,--"no doubt counts and dukes are often very estimable people, but
really, you know, my dear, one must draw the line somewhere"; and it
does not deny that it feels "a certain antipathy towards discussing
persons lower than princes,"--which impressive word it makes very black
and strong,--"except in the mass." And then it waves its aristocratic
gold point in a way that completely settles the matter. I am very sorry
if anybody would like to know the names, but it is such a tyrant I never
know what it will do next; and I really don't dare say anything more
about those poor dukes, except to mention briefly that there were
seventeen carriages full of manly grace and chivalry, uniforms and
decorations, scarlet, and blue, and crimson, and gold, and white, blond
mustaches, plumes, swords, and titles.
When the line of carriages had passed over the appointed route, and all
the people had gazed and gazed to their heart's content, the procession
approached the Residenz where Queen Olga received her imperial relative
and guest. He gave her his arm, and they vanished from the eyes of the
_ignobile vulgus_. This was an impressive and elevating moment; but it
is not curious to remember that after all, if the truth be told,
_allerdurchlauchtigster_ though he be, he is only her--Uncle William.
In the evening was a brilliant and large torch-light procession, and all
the world was out in merry mood. The illuminated fountains, the statues
and flowers in the pretty Schloss Platz, shone out in the gleam of
Bengal lights, which also revealed the sea of heads in the square in
front of the palace. A stalwart young workman stood near us with his
little fair-haired daughter perched on his shoulder. They did not know
how statuesque they looked in the rosy light, but we did. Much music,
many _Hochs_, and the edifying spectacle of all their majesties and
royal highnesses in a distinguished row on the balcony, for the
delectation of the masses, completed the joys of the evening.
If any one imagines for an instant that all this very valuable
information was obtained without much effort, and heroic endurance of
many evils, he is entirely mistaken. At such times, if you wish to see
anything, you must either be in and of the multitude, or you must look
from a window, which affords you only one point of view and curbs your
freedom, and doesn't allow you to run from place to place in time to see
everything there is to be seen. At these dramas enacted by high-born
artists for the purpose of touching the hearts and awakening the zeal of
the lowly, there are no private boxes and reserved seats. We scorned the
trammelling window, and chose to mingle with our fellow-men, with our
fellow-butcher-and-baker boys, as well as with little knots of intrepid,
amused women, like ourselves. Upon the whole, we enjoyed it. We made
studies of human nature, and of policeman nature, which is often not by
any means human, but, as Sam Weller says, "on the contrary quite the
reverse."
Policemen everywhere are glorious, awe-inspiring creatures. German
policemen are particularly magnificent. They wear such gay coats, and
are often such imposing, big blond men, it is impossible to look at them
without admiration. The way they thrust and push when they want to keep
a crowd within certain bounds is as ruthless as if they were huge
automata, with great far-reaching limbs that strike out and hew down
when the machinery is wound up. Practically they are successful; the
only trouble is, it is the innocent ones in front, pushed by the
pressure of the crowd behind, who are thrust back savagely, with a stern
"Zurueck!" by the mighty men, and who are treated like dumb, driven
cattle. A friend who is always dauntless and always humorous, feeling
the weight of a heavy hand on her shoulder, and hearing a tempestuous
ejaculation in her ear, calmly looked the autocrat in the face, and with
gentle gravity said, "_Don't_ be so cross!" at which the great being
actually smiled.
After that we thought perhaps these petty officials dressed in a little
brief authority only put on their crossness with their uniforms. Perhaps
at home with their wives and blue-eyed babies they may be quite docile.
They may even, here and there,--delicious idea!--be henpecked!
This was the sentiment expressed by a loyal German at the close of the
day: "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for I have
seen my Kaiser."