The truth of the dastardly plot which caused the downfall of the
unfortunate and much-maligned Imperial Princess Luisa Antoinette Marie,
Archduchess of Austria, and wife of Friedrich-August, now the reigning
King of Saxony, has never yet been revealed.
I know, my dear Le Queux, that you had a good deal to do with the
"skittish Princess," as she was called, and her affairs after she had
left the Court of Saxony and went to live near you in the Via Benedetto
da Foiano, in Florence. You were her friend, and you were afterwards
present at her secret marriage in London. Therefore, what I here reveal
concerning a disgraceful conspiracy by which a clever, accomplished, and
generous Princess of the blood Royal was hounded out of Germany will, I
think, be of peculiar interest to yourself and to those readers for whom
you are setting down my reminiscences.
As you know, before being appointed to my recent position in the
Crown-Prince "Willie's" household, I was personal-adjutant to His
Majesty the Emperor, and in that capacity accompanied Der Einzige (the
One) on his constant travels. Always hungry for popular applause, the
Emperor was ever on the move with that morbid restlessness of which he
is possessed, and which drove him from city to city, hunting, yachting,
unveiling statues, opening public buildings, paying ceremonial visits,
or, when all excuses for travel became exhausted, he presented new
colours to some regiment in some far-off garrison.
Indeed, within that one year, 1902, I accompanied "William-the-Sudden"
and his host of adjutants, military and civil secretaries, valets,
chasseurs and flunkeys, to twenty-eight different cities in Germany and
Scandinavia, where he stopped and held Court. Some cities we visited
several times, being unwelcome always because of the endless trouble,
anxiety and expense caused to the municipal authorities and military
casinos.
I, of course, knew the charming Imperial Highness the Crown-Princess
Luisa of Saxony, as she often came on visits to the Kaiserin, but I had
never spoken much with her until at Easter the Emperor went to visit
Dresden. He took with him, among other people, one of his untitled boon
companions, Judicial Councillor Loehlein, a stout, flabby-faced
hanger-on, who at the time possessed great influence over him. Indeed,
he was really the Emperor's financial agent. This man had, some time
ago, very fortunately for the Emperor, opened his eyes to the way in
which Kunze had manipulated the amazing Schloss Freiheit Lottery, and
had been able to point out to the All-Highest One what a storm of
ridicule, indignation and defiance must arise in Berlin if he attempted
to carry out his huge reconstruction and building scheme.
I was present in the Emperor's room at Potsdam when old Loehlein, with
whom sat Herr von Wedell, openly declared to the Emperor that if he
prosecuted his pet building scheme great indignation must arise, not
only in the capital, but in Hanover, Wiesbaden, and Kassel.
The Kaiser knitted his brows and listened attentively to both of his
advisers. I well remember how, next day, the Press, in order to allay
the public dissatisfaction, declared that the huge building projects of
the Emperor never existed. They had been purely imaginary ideas put
forward by a syndicate of speculative builders and taken up by the
newspapers.
Without doubt the podgy, fair-haired man in gold-rimmed spectacles, the
Judicial Councillor Loehlein, by crushing the Kaiser's mad scheme gained
considerable popularity in a certain circle. He was, however, a man of
exceptional craft and cunning, and during the eight years or so he
remained the intimate friend of the Emperor he must have, by advising
and looking after the Imperial investments, especially in America,
amassed a great fortune.
On the occasion of our Easter visit to the Saxon Court--a Court which,
to say the least, was a most dull and uninteresting one--we all went, as
is the custom there, to the shoot at the Vogelschiessen, a large wooden
bird made up of pieces which fall out when hit in a vital part. The bird
target is set up at the Easter fair held close to Dresden, and on that
afternoon the whole Court annually go to try their skill at
marksmanship. We were a merry party. The Emperor went with the old King
and Queen of Saxony, being accompanied by the Crown-Prince
Friedrich-August and the Crown-Princess Luisa, merry, laughing, full of
spirits, and unusually good-looking for a Royalty.
The Saxon Royal Family all shot, and, thanks to her father's tuition,
the Crown-Princess knocked a piece out of the bird at the first shot,
which sent the public wild with enthusiasm.
Luisa was the most popular woman in Saxony, and deservedly so, for hers
had been a love match. Her father, Ferdinand IV., Grand Duke of Tuscany,
had, at the suggestion of the Emperor Francis Joseph, endeavoured to
arrange a match between the Princess and the man now known as "foxy"
Ferdinand of Bulgaria. With that object a grand _diner de ceremonie_ was
held one night at the Imperial Castle of Salzburg, and at that dinner
Luisa, suspecting the conspiracy, publicly insulted the Ruler of
Bulgaria, which for ever put an end to the paternal plans.
After her marriage to the Saxon Crown-Prince the Kaiser, in one of his
whimsical moods, became greatly attached to her because of her
frankness, her love of outdoor life, and her high educational
attainments, hence we often had her visiting at Potsdam or at the Berlin
Schloss. She was known to be one of the few feminine Royalties in whom
the Kaiser took the slightest interest.
After our return from the public shooting to the Royal Palace in
Dresden, a banquet was, of course, held in honour of the Emperor in that
great hall where, on the walls, the four estates are represented by
scenes from the history of the Emperor Henry I.
At the grand ball afterwards I found myself chatting with Luisa, who, I
recollect, wore a most charming and artistic gown of sea-green chiffon,
_decollete_, of course, with pink carnations in her hair and a few
diamonds upon her corsage, as well as the Order of St. Elizabeth and her
magnificent rope of matched pearls, which went twice round her neck and
reached to her knees--a historic set which had once belonged to Marie
Antoinette. She looked very charming, and, in her frank way, asked me:
"How do you like my dress, Count? I designed it myself," she added.
I complimented her upon it, but I afterwards heard that the old King of
Saxony had been horrified at the lowness to which the bodice had been
cut, and, further, that every yard of green chiffon in Dresden had been
sold out before noon next day and the dress copied everywhere.
As we stood chatting in a corner of the room, watching the scene of
unusual brilliancy because of the Kaiser's presence, the Princess,
turning to me, said suddenly:
"Do you believe in omens, Count von Heltzendorff?"
"Omens!" I exclaimed, rather surprised at her question. "Really, I'm
afraid I am a little too matter-of-fact to take such things seriously,
your Highness."
"Well, a curious thing happened here about a month ago," she said. "I
was----" At that instant the Emperor, in the uniform of the 2nd Regiment
of Saxon Grenadiers, of which he was chief, and wearing the Order of
Crancelin of the House of Saxony, strode up, and, standing before us
exclaimed:
"Well, Luisa? What is the very interesting topic of conversation, eh?"
He had evidently overheard her words about some curious thing happening,
for, laughing gaily, he asked; "Now, what did happen a month ago?"
Her Imperial Highness hesitated, as though endeavouring to avoid an
explanation, but next second she waved her lace fan quickly and said:
"Well, something remarkable. I will tell your Majesty if you really wish
to hear it."
"By all means, Luisa, by all means," replied His Majesty, placing his
sound hand behind his back and drawing himself up very erect--a habit of
his after asking a question.
"Well, recently Friedrich-August and myself have moved into rooms in the
older wing of the Palace--rooms that have not been occupied for nearly
forty years. They are old-world, charming, and remind me constantly of
Augustus the Strong and the times in which he lived. Just about a month
ago the King and Queen of Roumania were paying us a visit. We were at
dinner, and while we were all laughing and talking, for 'Carmen Sylva'
had been telling us one of her stories, we heard a great clatter of
horses' hoofs and the heavy rumble of wheels, just as though a stage
coach was crossing the Small Courtyard. All of us listened, and in the
silence we heard it receding quite distinctly. I at once sent my
lady-in-waiting to ascertain who had arrived or departed, four-wheeled
coaches being quite unusual nowadays. It seemed just as though the coach
had driven out of the Palace gate. The message brought back from the
guardroom was that no carriage had entered or left. I told this to
those around the table, and the Queen of Roumania, who had taken much
interest in omens and folk-lore, seated opposite me, seemed much
impressed, and even perturbed."
"Then the noise you heard must have been quite an uncanny one, eh?"
asked the Emperor, deeply interested.
"Quite. Two of the women at the table declared that it must have been
thunder, and then the conversation proceeded. I, however, confess to
your Majesty that I was very much puzzled, and the more so because only
two nights ago, while we sat at dinner Friedrich-August and myself _en
famille_, we heard exactly the same sounds again!"
"Really!" laughed the Emperor. "Quite uncanny. I hope, here in Dresden,
you are not believing in spooks, as London society believes in them."
"Not at all," said the Princess earnestly. "I don't believe in omens.
But, curiously enough, the King told me yesterday that his two old
aunts, who formerly lived in our wing of the Palace, had sometimes heard
the clatter of horses' hoofs, the jingle of harness, the grinding of the
brakes, and the rumbling of heavy carriage wheels."
"H'm!" grunted the Emperor. "I've heard that same story before, Luisa.
The departing coach means trouble to the reigning family."
"That is exactly what the King said to me only last evening," answered
Luisa frankly. "Does it mean trouble to me, I wonder?"
"Certainly not," I declared. "Your Imperial Highness need not worry for
one moment over such things. Nobody nowadays regards such phenomena as
presage of evil. There is no doubt some perfectly natural explanation of
the sounds. Every old palace, castle, and even private house, has its
traditions."
"Quite right, Heltzendorff," laughed the Emperor, "especially in England
and Scotland. There they have white ladies, grey ladies, men with heads
like stags, lights in windows, the sound of mysterious bells ringing,
and all sorts of evil omens. Oh, those dear, superstitious English! How
ready they are to take up anything unpractical that may be a pleasant
change to the senses."
"Your Majesty does not believe in omens?" I ventured to remark.
"Omens!" he exclaimed, fixing his gaze upon me. "No; none but cowards
and old women believe in them." Then, turning to the Princess, he
smiled, saying: "If I were you, Luisa, I would give your chief of police
orders to question all the servants. Somebody rattled some dishes,
perhaps. You say it was during dinner."
But the pretty Crown-Princess was serious, for she said:
"Well, all I can say is that not only did I myself hear, but a dozen
others at table also heard the noise of horses, not dishes."
"Ah, Luisa! I see you are a trifle nervous," laughed the Emperor. "Well,
as you know, your Royal House of Saxony has lasted from the days of
Albert the Courageous in the early fifteenth century, and the Dynasty of
the Ravensteins has been prosperous from then until to-day, so don't
trouble yourself further. Why, you are really quite pale and unnerved, I
see," His Majesty added, for nothing escapes those shrewd, wide-open
eyes of his.
Then the Emperor, after acknowledging the salute of Baron Georg von
Metzsch, Controller of the Royal Household--a tall, thin, crafty-eyed
man, with hair tinged with grey, and wearing a dark blue uniform and
many decorations--changed the topic of conversation, and referred to the
Saxon Easter custom which that morning had been carried out.
The Kaiser was in particularly merry mood that night. He had gone to
Dresden against his inclination, for he had long ago arranged an Easter
review on the Tempelhofer Feld, but the visit was, I knew, for the
purpose of a consultation in secret with the King of Saxony. A week
before, in the Berlin Schloss, I had been sent by the Emperor to obtain
a paper from his table in the upstairs study, and in looking for the
document in question--one that he had signed and wished to send over to
the Reichsamt des Innern (Office of the Interior)--I came across a
letter from King George of Saxony, begging the Emperor to visit him, in
order to discuss "that matter which is so seriously threatening the
honour of our House."
Several times I wondered to what His Majesty of Saxony had referred.
That morning Emperor and King had been closeted alone together for fully
three hours, and the outcome of the secret conference seemed to have put
the All-Highest into a most excellent mood.
He left us, accompanied by Baron von Metzsch and Judicial Councillor
Loehlein, and I noticed how both men were talking with the Emperor in an
undertone. To my surprise also I saw how Loehlein cast furtive glances
towards where I still stood with the Crown-Princess.
A few moments later, however, a smart officer of the Prussian Guard,
whom I recognized as Count von Castell Rudenhausen, a well-known figure
in the gay life of Berlin, came forward, and, bowing, invited the
Princess to waltz.
And a moment later Luisa was smiling at me across the shoulder of her
good-looking cavalier.
Suddenly, while waltzing, her magnificent rope of historic matched
pearls accidentally caught in the button of a passing officer, the
string snapped, and many of the pearls fell rattling upon the polished
floor.
In a moment a dozen officers in tight uniforms were groping about to
recover them from the feet of the dancers when, during the commotion, I
heard the voice of Judicial Councillor Loehlein remark quite loudly:
"Ah! now we can all see who are the Crown-Princess' admirers!"
Luisa flushed instantly in anger and annoyance, but said nothing, whilst
her lady-in-waiting in silence took the broken rope of pearls, together
with those recovered from the floor, and a few moments later the
significant incident ended.
The Saxon Crown-Prince and his wife were at that time a most devoted
couple, though all of us knew that the modern ideas Luisa had brought to
Dresden from the Hapsburg Court had much shocked old King George and his
consort. The Saxon Court was unused to a pretty woman with buoyant
spirits rejoicing in life with a capital "L." According to the Court
whisperings, trouble had started a few days after marriage, when the
King, having given his daughter-in-law a tiara of diamonds, a Royal
heirloom, with strict injunctions to wear them just as they were--a
style of the seventeenth century--he one evening at the opera saw her
wearing the stones re-set in that style known as _art nouveau_. The King
became furious, and ordered them to be set again in their original
settings, whereupon Luisa coolly returned the present.
Such was the commencement of the old King's ill-feeling towards her.
The State ball that night was certainly a brilliant one for such a small
Court, and next day we all returned to Potsdam, for the Emperor had
suddenly cancelled a number of engagements and arranged to pay a visit
to Wilhelmshaven, where the Kaiserliche Werft (Imperial Dockyard)
contained certain naval secrets he wished to see.
Before we left Dresden, however, I met the Crown-Princess in one of the
corridors. It was nine o'clock in the morning. She wore her
riding-habit, for, being a splendid horsewoman, she had just come in
from her morning canter.
"Well, Count!" she laughed. "So you are leaving us unexpectedly! I
shall be coming to pay another visit to Potsdam soon. The Emperor
invited me last night. Au revoir!" And after I had bent over her small
white hand she waved it merrily and passed the sentry towards her
private apartments, wherein she had heard the ghostly coach and four.
Her Imperial Highness paid her promised visit to the Empress at the
Neues Palais in July.
At the time of her arrival the Emperor had left suddenly and gone away
to Hubertusstock. When anything unusual upset him he always went there.
I overheard him the day before his departure shouting to Loehlein as I
passed along one of the corridors. The Judicial Councillor seemed to be
trying to pacify him, but apparently entirely without avail, for the
Emperor is a man not easily convinced.
"You are as sly as all the rest!" I heard the Emperor declare in that
shrill, high-pitched tone which always denotes his anger. "I'll hear
none of it--no excuses. I want no fawning, no Jew-juggling."
Then, fearing to be discovered, I slipped on past the door.
The next I heard was that the Kaiser had left for that lonely retreat to
which he went when he wished to be alone in those periods of crazy
impetuosity which periodically seized the Mad Dog of Europe; and,
further, that he had taken with him his crafty crony, Loehlein.
During that mysterious absence--when the tinselled world of Potsdam
seemed at peace--the good-looking Saxon Crown-Princess arrived.
I was on duty on the railway platform to bow over her hand and to
welcome her.
"Ah! Count von Heltzendorff! Well, did I not say that I should not be
very long before I returned to Potsdam, eh?" she exclaimed. Then, in a
whisper, she said with a merry laugh: "Do you remember those clattering
hoofs and my broken rope of pearls? Nothing has happened yet."
"And nothing will," I assured her as, with a courtier's obeisance, I
conducted Her Imperial Highness to the Royal carriage, where the
Crown-Prince "Willie" was awaiting her, chatting with two officers of
the Guard to while away the time.
Three days later an incident occurred which caused me a good deal of
thought, and, truth to tell, mystified me considerably.
That somewhat indiscreet journal, the _Militaer Wochenblatt_, had
published a statement to the effect that Friedrich-August of Saxony and
the handsome Luisa had had a violent quarrel, a fact which caused a
great deal of gossip throughout Court circles.
Old Von Donaustauf, who at that time was master of the ceremonies at the
Emperor's Court, busied himself by spreading strange scandals regarding
the Crown-Princess Luisa. Therefore, in the circumstances, it struck me
as strange that Her Highness should have been invited to the puritanical
and hypocritical circle at Potsdam.
That afternoon, soon after the guard had been changed, I chanced to be
writing in my room, which overlooked the big central courtyard, when I
heard the guard suddenly turn out in great commotion, by which I knew
that His Majesty had suddenly returned from Hubertusstock.
Ten minutes later my telephone rang, and, passing the sentries, I went
by order to His Majesty's study, that chamber of plots and secrets, hung
with its faded pale green silk damask, its furniture covered with the
same material, and its net curtains at the windows threaded with ribbons
of the same shade.
The moment I entered the Emperor's countenance showed me that he was
very angry. His low-bowing crony, Loehlein, always a subtle adviser, had
returned with him, and stood watching the Emperor as the latter
impatiently paced the room.
I saluted, awaiting orders in silence, as was my habit, but so
preoccupied was His Majesty that he did not notice my presence, but
continued his outburst of furious wrath. "Only see what Von Hoensbroech
has reported!" he cried, suddenly halting against one of those big buhl
chests of drawers with grey marble tops--heavy pieces of furniture
veneered with tortoise-shell in which the Emperor keeps his official
papers. "I am being made a laughing-stock--and you know it, Loehlein! It
has been said of us that a woman, a whim, or a word will to-day raise
any person to high rank in our Empire! That blackguard, Harden, has
actually dared to write it in his journal. Well, we shall see. That
woman--she shall----"
As the Kaiser uttered those words he suddenly realized that I was
present, and hesitated. Next second both his tone and his manner
changed.
"Heltzendorff--I--I--wish you to go to Dresden and take a private
letter. It will be ready in half an hour. Say nothing to anyone
concerning your departure, but report to me here at"--and he glanced at
the small bronze clock on the overmantel between two elegant
candelabra--"at four o'clock."
As commanded, I reported, but the Kaiser was with the Empress, who, in
one of her private apartments, was holding _petit cercle_, the Princess
Luisa being present. Indeed, as I entered that semi-circular salon the
Kaiser was standing astride before Luisa's chair laughing gaily with
her. Surely none who saw him at that moment would ever have believed
that not half an hour before his face had been blanched by anger. He
could alter his moods just as he changed his three hundred odd uniforms.
There was something mysterious in the wind--of that I felt absolutely
convinced. The atmosphere of that faded green upstairs room was always
one of confidential conversations, intimate conferences and secret
plots--plots despicable and vile, as has since been proved--against the
peace of the world.
The Emperor, noticing that I had entered the Imperial presence, came
forward, and I followed him back into the softly-carpeted corridor. Then
his action further aroused my curiosity, for he took from the inner
pocket of his tunic an envelope of what you in England call "court"
size--linen-lined, as are all envelopes used by the Emperor for his
private correspondence. I saw it had been sealed in black by his own
hand. Then, as he handed it to me, he said:
"Go to Dresden as quickly as possible and obtain a reply to this."
I clicked my heels together, and, saluting, left upon my secret mission
to the Saxon Court.
The letter was addressed to Baron Georg von Metzsch at Dresden.
Next day, when I presented it to the tall, thin Controller of the
Household, who sat in his small but cosy room in the Royal Palace, I saw
that its contents greatly puzzled him.
He wrote a reply, and as Imperial messenger I returned at once to
Potsdam, handing it to the Emperor as he strode alone from the Shell
Saloon, through which he was passing after dinner.
He took it from my hand without a word. The All-Highest never bestows
thanks upon those who obey his orders. It is, indeed, said to-day that
Hindenburg has never once, during his whole official career, been
verbally thanked by his Imperial Master.
The Emperor, with impatient fingers, tore open the envelope, read its
contents, and then smiled contentedly, after which I went to old Von
Donaustauf's room, and, tired out by the long journey, smoked a good
cigar in his company.
Next day we were all back at the Berlin Schloss--for we never knew from
day to day where we might be--Hamburg, Stuttgart, Duesseldorf or Danzig.
During the morning His Majesty inspected the Berlin garrison in the
Tempelhofer Feld, and the Princess Luisa rode with him. That same
afternoon, while I was busy writing in the long room allotted to me in
the Berlin Schloss, Her Imperial Highness, to my surprise, entered,
closing the door quietly after her.
"Count von Heltzendorff, you have been on a secret mission to that spy,
Von Metzsch, in Dresden, have you not?"