You will recollect our first meeting on that sunny afternoon when, in
the stuffy, nauseating atmosphere of perspiration and a hundred Parisian
perfumes, we sat next each other at the first roulette table on the
right as you enter the rooms at Monte Carlo?
Ah! how vivid it is still before my eyes, the jingle of gold and the
monotonous cries of the croupiers.
Ah! my dear friend! In those pre-war days the Riviera--that sea-lapped
Paradise, with its clear, open sky and sapphire Mediterranean,
grey-green olives and tall flowering aloes, its gorgeous blossoms, and
its merry, dark-eyed populace who lived with no thought of the
morrow--was, indeed, the playground of Europe.
And, let me whisper it, I think I may venture to declare that few of its
annual habitues enjoyed the life more than your dear old ink-stained
self.
What brought us together, you, an English novelist, and I a--well, how
shall I describe myself? One of your enemies--eh? No, dear old fellow.
Let us sink all our international differences. May I say that I, Count
Ernst von Heltzendorff, of Schloss Heltzendorff, on the Mosel, late
personal-adjutant to His Imperial Highness the Crown-Prince, an official
attached to that precious young scoundrel's immediate person, call you
my dear friend?
True, our nations are, alas! at war--the war which the Kaiser and his
son long sought, but which, as you well know, I have long ago detested.
I have repudiated that set of pirates and assassins of whom I was, alas!
born, and among whom I moved until I learned of the vile plot afoot
against the peace of Europe and the chastity of its female inhabitants.
On August 5th, 1914, I shook the dust of Berlin from my feet, crossed
the French frontier, and have since resided in the comfortable
old-fashioned country house which you assisted me to purchase on the
border of the lovely forest of Fontainebleau.
And now, you have asked me to reveal to you some of the secrets of
Potsdam--secrets known to me by reason of my official position before
the war.
You are persuading me to disclose some facts concerning the public and
private life of the Emperor, of my Imperial master the Crown-Prince,
known in his intimate circle as "Willie," and of the handsome but
long-suffering Cecil Duchess of Mecklenbourg, who married him ten years
ago and became known as "Cilli." Phew! Poor woman! she has experienced
ten years of misery, domestic unhappiness, by which she has become
prematurely aged, deep-eyed, her countenance at times when we talked
wearing an almost tragic look.
No wonder, indeed, that there is a heavy and, alas! broken heart within
the beautiful Marble Palace at Potsdam, that splendid residence where
you once visited me and were afterwards commanded to a reception held by
His Imperial Highness.
I risk much, I know, in taking up my pen to tell the truth and to make
these exposures to you, but I do so because I think it only just that
your British nation should know the true character of the Emperor and
of the unscrupulous and ubiquitous "Willie," the defiant young
Blackguard of Europe, who is the idol of the swaggering German Army, and
upon whom they pin their hopes.
It is true that the Commander of the Death's Head Hussars--the
"Commander" who has since the war sanctioned the cold-blooded murder of
women and children, the shooting of prisoners, rapine, incendiarism, and
every other devil's work that his horde of assassins could commit--once
declared that "the day will come when Social Democrats will come to
Court."
True, he has been known to be present at the golden wedding festivities
of a poor cobbler in Potsdam; that he has picked up in his yellow
ninety-horse-power car--with its black imp as a mascot--a poor tramp and
taken him to the hospital; and that he possesses the charming manner of
his much-worshipped grandfather, the Emperor Frederick. But he is as
clever and cunning as his criminal father, Wilhehm-der-Ploetzliche
(William the Sudden) or Der Einzige (The Only), as the Kaiser is called
by the people of the Palace. He shows with double cunning but one side
of his character to the misguided German people, the Prussian Junker
party, and the Tom-Dick-and-Harry of the Empire who have been made
cannon-fodder and whose bones lie rotting in Flanders and on the Aisne.
Ah, my dear friend, what a strange life was that of the German Court
before the war--a life of mummery, of gay uniforms, tinsel, gilded
decorations, black hearts posing as virtuous, and loose people of both
sexes evilly scandalizing their neighbours and pulling strings which
caused their puppets to dance to the War-Lord's tune.
I once lifted the veil slightly to you when you stayed at the Palast
Hotel in Potsdam and came to us at the Marble Palace, and I suppose it
is for that reason that you ask me to jot down, for the benefit of your
readers in Great Britain and her Dominions, a few facts concerning the
plots of the Kaiser and his son--the idol of Germany, the Kronprinz
"Willie."
What did you think of him when I presented you?
I know how, later on that same night, you remarked upon his height, his
narrow chest, and his corset-waist, and how strangely his animal eyes
set slant-wise in his thin, aquiline face, goggle eyes, which dilate so
strangely when speaking with you, and which yet seem to penetrate your
innermost thoughts.
I agreed with you when you declared that there was nothing outwardly of
the typical Hohenzollern in the Imperial Rake. True, one seeks in vain
for traces of martial virility. Though his face is so often wreathed in
boyish smiles, yet his heart is as hard as that of the true
Hohenzollern, while his pretended love of sport is only a clever ruse in
order to retain the popularity which, by dint of artful pretence, he has
undoubtedly secured. Indeed, it was because of the All-Highest One's
jealousy of his reckless yet crafty son's growing popularity that we
were one day all suddenly packed off to Danzig to be immured for two
long years in that most dreary and provincial of all garrisons.
Of the peccadilloes of the elegant young blackguard of Europe--who
became a fully-fledged colonel in the German Army at the age of
thirty-one--I need say but little. His life has been crammed with
disgraceful incidents, most of them hushed up at the Kaiser's command,
though several of them--especially certain occurrences in the Engadine
in the winter of 1912--reached the ears of the Crown-Princess, who, one
memorable day, unable to stand her husband's callous treatment,
threatened seriously to leave him.
Indeed, it was only by the Kaiser's autocratic order that "Cilli"
remained at the Marmor Palace. She had actually made every preparation
to leave, a fact which I, having learned it, was compelled to report to
the Crown-Prince. We were at the Palace in the Zeughaus-Platz, in
Berlin, at the time, and an hour after I had returned from Potsdam I
chanced to enter the Crown-Prince's study. The door was a self-locking
one, and I had a key. On turning my key I drew back, for His Majesty the
Emperor, a fine figure in the picturesque cavalry uniform of the
Koenigsjaeger--who had just come from a review, and had no doubt heard of
the threatened Royal scandal--was standing astride in the room.
"I compel it!" cried the Emperor, pale with rage, his eyes flashing as
he spoke. "She shall remain! Go to her at once--make your peace with her
in any way you can--and appear to-night with her at the theatre."
"But I fear it is impossible. I----"
"Have you not heard me?" interrupted the Emperor, disregarding his son's
protests. And as I discreetly withdrew I heard the Kaiser add: "Cannot
you, of our House of Hohenzollern, see that we cannot afford to allow
Cilli to leave us? The present state of the public mind is not
encouraging, much as I regret it. Remember Frederick August's position
when that madcap Luisa of Tuscany ran away with the French tutor Giron.
Now return to Marmor without delay and do as I bid."
"I know Cilli. She will not be appeased. Of that I am convinced,"
declared the young man.
"It is my will--the will of the Emperor," were the last words I heard,
spoken in that hard, intense voice I knew so well. "Tell your wife so.
And do not see that black-haired Englishwoman again. I had a full report
from the Engadine a fortnight ago, and this _contretemps_ is only what I
have expected. It is disgraceful! When will you learn reason?"
Ten minutes later I was seated beside the Crown-Prince in the car on our
way to Potsdam.
On the road, driving recklessly as I sat by his side, he laughed lightly
as he turned to me, saying:
"What an infernal worry women really are--aren't they,
Heltzendorff--more especially if one is an Imperial Prince! Even though
one is a Hohenzollern one cannot escape trouble!"
How the conjugal relations were resumed I know not. All I know is that I
attended their Imperial Highnesses to the Lessing Theatre, where, in the
Royal box, the Kaiser--ever eager to stifle the shortcomings of the
Hohenzollerns--sat with us, though according to his engagements he
should have been on his way to Duesseldorf for a great review on the
morrow. But such public display allayed all rumour of his son's domestic
infelicity, and both Emperor and Kronprinz smiled benignly upon the
people.
Early next day the Crown-Prince summoned me, in confidence, and an hour
later I left on a secret mission to a certain lady whom I may call Miss
Lilian Greyford--as it is not fair in certain cases in these exposures
to mention actual names--daughter of an English county gentleman, who
was staying at the "Kulm" at St. Moritz.
Twenty-four hours afterwards I managed to see the winter-sports young
lady alone in the hotel, and gave her a verbal message, together with a
little package from His Imperial Highness, which, when she opened it, I
found contained a souvenir in the shape of an artistic emerald pendant.
With it were some scribbled lines. The girl--she was not much more than
twenty--read them eagerly, and burst into a torrent of tears.
Ah! my dear Le Queux, as you yourself know from your own observations,
there are as many broken hearts beating beneath the corsets of
ladies-in-waiting and maids-of-honour, as there are among that frantic
feminine crowd striving to enter the magic circle of the Royal
entourage or the women of the workaday world who pass up
Unter-den-Linden on a Sunday.
Phew! What a world of fevered artificiality revolves around a throne!
Very soon after this incident--namely, in the early days of 1912--I
found myself, as the personal-adjutant of His Imperial Highness the
Crown-Prince, involved in a very strange, even inexplicable, affair.
How shall I explain it? Well, the drama opened in the Emperor's Palace
in Berlin on New Year's night, 1912, when, as usual, a Grand Court
reception was held.
The scene was one which we who revolve around the throne know so well.
Court gowns, nodding plumes, gay uniforms, and glittering decorations--a
vicious, tinselled, gossip-loving little world which with devilish
intent sows seeds of dark suspicion or struggles for the Kaiser's
favour.
In the famous White Salon, with its ceiling gaudily emblazoned with the
arms of the Hohenzollerns as Burgraves, Electors, Kings, Emperors, and
what-not, its walls of coloured marble and gilded bronze, and its fine
statues of the Prussian rulers, we had all assembled and were waiting
the entrance of the Emperor.
Kiderlen-Waechter--the Foreign Secretary--was standing near me, chatting
with Von Jagow, slim, dark-haired and spruce. The latter, who was
serving as German Ambassador in Rome, happened to be in Berlin on leave,
and the pair were laughing merrily with a handsome black-haired woman
whom I recognized as the Baroness Bertieri, wife of the Italian
Ambassador.
Philip Eulenburg, one of the Emperor's personal friends (by the way,
author, with Von Moltke, of the Kaiser's much-advertised "Song to
AEgir"--a fact not generally known), approached me and began to chat,
recalling a side-splitting incident that had occurred a few days before
at Kiel, whither I had been with the Crown-Prince to open a new bridge.
Oh, those infernal statues and bridges!
Of a sudden the tap of the Chamberlain's stick was heard thrice, the
gold-and-white doors instantly fell open, and the Emperor, his
decorations gleaming beneath the myriad lights, smilingly entered with
his waddling consort, the Crown-Prince, and their brilliant suite.
All of us bowed low in homage, but as we did so I saw the shrewd eyes of
the All-Highest One, which nothing escapes, fixed upon a woman who stood
close to my elbow. As he fixed his fierce gaze upon her I saw, knowing
that glance as I did, that it spoke volumes. Hitherto I had not noticed
the lady, for she was probably one of those unimportant persons who are
commanded to a Grand Court, wives and daughters of military nobodies, of
whom we at the Palace never took the trouble to inquire so long as their
gilt command-cards, issued by the Grand Chamberlain, were in proper
order.
That slight contraction of the Emperor's eyebrows caused me to ponder
deeply, for, knowing him so intimately, I saw that he was intensely
annoyed.
For what reason? I was much mystified.
Naturally I turned to glance at the woman whose presence had so
irritated him. She was fair-haired, blue-eyed, _petite_ and pretty. Her
age was about twenty-five, and she was extremely good-looking. Beside
her stood a big, fair-haired giant in the uniform of a captain of the
First Regiment of the Hussars of the Guard, of which the Crown-Prince
was Colonel-in-Chief.
Within a quarter of an hour I discovered that the officer was Count
Georg von Leutenberg, and that his pretty wife, whom he had married two
years before, was the eldest daughter of an English financier who had
been created a Baron by your rule-of-thumb politicians.
"Pretty woman, eh?" lisped Eulenburg in my ear, for he had noticed her,
and he was assuredly the best judge of a pretty face in all Berlin.
Next day, just before noon, on entering the Crown-Prince's private
cabinet, I found "Willie" in the uniform of the 2nd Grenadiers,
apparently awaiting me in that cosy apartment, which is crammed with
effigies, statuettes, and relics of the great Napoleon, whom he worships
just as the War Lord reveres his famous ancestor Frederick the Great.
"Sit down, Heltzendorff," said his Elegant Highness, waving his white,
well-manicured hand to a chair near by, and puffing at his cigarette.
"It is really pleasant to have an hour's rest!" he laughed, for he
seemed in merry mood that day. "Look here! As you know, after the little
affair with the Crown-Princess I trust to your absolute discretion. Do
you happen to know Count Georg von Leutenberg, of the Hussars of the
Guard?"
"By sight only," was my reply. Mention of that name caused me to wonder.
"He is a very good fellow, I understand. Do you know his wife--a pretty
little Englishwoman?"
"Unfortunately, I have not that pleasure."
"Neither have I, Heltzendorff," laughed the Prince, with a queer look in
those slant-set eyes which appear so strangely goggly sometimes. "But I
soon shall know her, I expect. In that direction I want your
assistance."
"I am yours for your Highness to command," I replied, puzzled to know
what was in progress. After a few seconds of silence the Crown-Prince
suddenly exclaimed:
"So good is the report of Von Leutenberg that has reached the Emperor
that--though he is as yet in ignorance of the fact--he has been promoted
to the rank of major, and ordered upon a foreign mission--as military
attache in London. He will leave Berlin to-night to take up his new
post."
"And the Countess?"
"By a secret report I happen to have here it is shown that they are a
most devoted pair," he said, glancing at a sheet of buff paper upon
which was typed a report, one which I recognized as emanating from the
secret bureau at the Polizei-Prasidium, in Alexander Platz. "They live
in the Lennestrasse, No. 44, facing the Tiergarten. Note the address."
Then his Highness paused, and, rising, crossed to the big writing-table
set in the window, and there examined another report. Afterwards,
glancing at the pretty buhl clock opposite, he suddenly said:
"The Count should call here now. I have sent informing him of the
Emperor's goodwill, and ordering him to report here to take leave of me
as his Colonel-in-Chief."
Scarcely had he spoken when Count von Leutenberg was announced by a
flunkey in pink silk stockings, and a moment later the tall officer
clicked his heels together and saluted smartly on the threshold.
"I thought you would be pleased at your well-merited promotion," said
his Highness in quite a genial tone. "The Emperor wishes you to leave
for London by the ten o'clock express for Flushing to-night, so as to
report to his Excellency the Ambassador before he departs on leave.
Hence the urgency. The Countess, of course, will remain in Berlin. You
will, naturally, wish for time to make your arrangements in London and
dispose of your house here."
"I think she will wish to accompany me, your Imperial Highness," replied
the fond husband. "London is her home."
"Ah! That is absurd!" laughed "Willie." "Why, you who have been married
two whole years are surely not still upon your honeymoon?" and his
close-set eyes glinted strangely. "You will be far too busy on taking up
your new appointment to see much of her. No. Let her remain comfortably
at home in Berlin until you are quite settled. Then I will see that
Kiderlen grants you leave to return to put your house in order."
From the Count's manner I could see that he was very much puzzled at his
sudden promotion.
Indeed, on entering he had stammered out his surprise at being singled
out for such high distinction.
Von Leutenberg's hesitation was the Crown-Prince's opportunity.
"Good!" went on his Highness in his imperious, impetuous way. "You will
leave for London to-night, and the Countess will remain until you have
settled. I congratulate you most heartily upon your well-deserved
advancement, which I consider is an honour conferred by the Emperor upon
my regiment. I know, too, that you will act to the honour of the
Fatherland abroad."
And with those words the major was dismissed.
"A charming man!" remarked the Prince, after the door had closed. "He
has only been brought to my notice quite recently. An enthusiastic
officer, he will be of great use to us at Carlton House Terrace. There
is much yet to be done there, my dear Heltzendorff. Fortunately we have
put our friends the English comfortably to sleep. It has cost us money,
but money talks in London, just as it does in Berlin."
And he drew a long, ecstatic breath at the mere thought of the great
international plot in progress--of the staggering blow to be struck
against France, and the march upon Paris with those men who were his
boon companions--Von Kluck, Von Hindenburg and Von der Goltz.
"Heltzendorff," he exclaimed a few moments later, after he had reflected
deeply between the whiffs of his cigarette. "Heltzendorff, I wish you to
become acquainted with the Countess von Leutenberg, and you must
afterwards introduce me. I have a fixed and distinct reason. I could
obtain the assistance of others, but I trust you only."
"But I do not know the lady," I protested, for I had no desire
whatsoever to become implicated in any double-dealing.
"Hohenstein knows her well. I will see that he introduces you," replied
the Kaiser's son, with that strange look again in his eyes. "She's
uncommonly pretty, so mind you don't fall in love with her!" he laughed,
holding up his finger reprovingly. "I've heard, too, that Count Georg is
a highly jealous person, but, fortunately, he will be very busy writing
secret reports at Carlton House Terrace. So go and see Hohenstein at
once, and get him to introduce you to the pretty little Englishwoman.
But, remember, not a word of this conversation is to be breathed to a
single soul."
What did it all mean? Why had the Emperor singled out for advancement
the husband of that woman, the sight of whom had so greatly annoyed him?
I confess that I became more than ever puzzled over the curious affair.
Within a week, however, thanks to the introduction of that old roue,
Hohenstein, I had dined at Count von Leutenberg's pretty house in the
Lennestrasse in a fine room, the long windows of which commanded a
delightful view over the Tiergarten and the Siegesallee.
The Countess, extremely charming and refined, having the misfortune of
being English, had not been taken up warmly by Berlin society. She was,
I found, a most delightful hostess. The party included Laroque, the
elegant First Secretary of the French Embassy, and his Parisian wife,
together with Baron Hoffmann, the burly, round-faced Minister of the
Interior, and Doctor Paulssen, Under-Secretary at the Colonial Office,
against whom you will remember there were allegations of atrocities
committed upon the natives in German East Africa. Hohenstein was,
however, not there, as he had been suddenly dispatched by the Emperor
upon a mission to Corfu.
At table the talk ran upon Leutenberg's sudden promotion, whereupon the
Minister Hoffmann declared:
"His Majesty only gives reward when it is due. When he discerns talent
he is never mistaken."
A week later the Crown-Prince had returned from a surprise visit the
Kaiser had made to Stettin. The Emperor had played his old game of
rousing the garrison in the middle of the night, and then laughing at
the ludicrous figures cut by his pompous Generals and Colonels rushing
about in their night attire eager to greet their Sovereign.
I was in the Prince's private room arranging the details of a military
programme at Potsdam on the following day when he suddenly entered and
exclaimed:
"Well, Heltzendorff, and how are you proceeding in the Lennestrasse,
eh?" and he looked at me with those crafty eyes of his. "I hear you were
at the house last night."
I started. Was I being watched? It was quite true that I had called on
the previous evening, and, finding the Countess alone, had sat in her
pretty drawing-room enjoying a long and delightful chat with her.
"Yes. I called there," I admitted. "The Count is returning from London
next week to take his wife back with him."
The Crown-Prince smiled mysteriously, and critically examined the
curious snake ring which he always wears upon the little finger of his
left hand.
"We need not anticipate that, I think. Kiderlen will not grant him
leave. He is far better in Carlton House Terrace than in the
Lennestrasse."
"I hardly follow your Highness," I remarked, much mystified at his
words.
"H'm. Probably not, my dear Count," he laughed. "I do not intend that
you should."
And with that mysterious remark he turned to meet Count von Zeppelin,
the round-faced, snow-haired, somewhat florid inventor, who was one of
his Highness's most intimate friends, and who had at that moment entered
unannounced. Zeppelin was a character in Berlin. He sought no friends,
no advertisement, and shunned notoriety.
"Ha, my dear Ferdinand!" cried the Prince, shaking the hand of the man
who so suddenly became world-famous at the age of seventy. "You have
travelled from Stuttgart to see me--unwell as you are! It is an honour.
But the matter is one of greatest urgency, as I have already written to
you. I want to show you the correspondence and seek your advice," and
the Prince invited his white-haired friend to the big, carved arm-chair
beside his writing-table. Then, turning to me, he said: "Will you see
Von Glasenapp for me, and hand him those orders for Posen? He must leave
to-night. The General Court-Martial at Stendal I have fixed for the
25th. I shall be with the Emperor this afternoon. Report here at seven
to-night--understand?"
Thus was I dismissed, while His Imperial Highness and Count Zeppelin sat
together in secret counsel.
At ten minutes to seven that evening I unlocked the Crown-Prince's room
with the key I carried, the other two keys being in the hands of the
Crown-Princess and her husband. I had placed upon the table a bundle of
reports which had just been brought round from the Ministry of War, and
required that scribbly signature, "Wilhelm Kronprinz," when I noticed
three private letters that had evidently been placed aside. The
envelopes were addressed in a thin, angular, female hand, and bore an
English address. I noted it. The name on each was that of a lady
residing in Aylesbury Avenue, Hampstead, London. The letters bore German
stamps. In keen curiosity, I took one and examined it, wondering whether
it could be the correspondence which the Crown-Prince had been so eager
to show Count von Zeppelin in secret.