I suppose that none of your British friends have ever heard the name of
Thyra Adelheid von Kienitz.
She was a funny little deformed person, aged, perhaps, seventy, widow of
the great General von Kienitz, who had served in the Franco-German
campaign, and who, before his death, had been acknowledged to be as
great a strategist as your own Lord Roberts, whom every good German--I
did not write Prussian--salutes in reverence.
Countess von Kienitz was the daughter of a certain Countess von Borcke,
and after living for many years in retirement in her picturesque old
schloss perched on a rock not far from the famous wine district of
Berncastel, on the winding Mosel river, became suddenly seized with an
idea to re-enter Berlin society.
With this view she rented a fine house not far from the Liechtenstein
Bridge, and early in 1911 commenced a series of wildly-extravagant
entertainments--luncheons, dinners, and supper concerts, at which were
artistes to whom three-thousand-mark fees were often paid--with a view,
as it seemed to me, to attract the more modern and go-ahead section of
Berlin society.
At first the smarter set looked askance at the ugly, deformed,
painted-up old woman with the squeaky voice, and they strenuously
declined invitations to her splendid, newly-furnished mansion in the
Stulerstrasse. Indeed, the name of the Countess von Kienitz became
synonymous for all that was grotesque, and her painted, doll-like
countenance and yellow wig were the laughing-stock of both the upper and
middle classes.
Nevertheless she strenuously endeavoured to surround herself with young
society of both sexes, and many smart dances were given at the
Stulerstrasse during the season--dances at which the swaggering Prussian
officer was seen at his gorgeous best.
One afternoon, seated by the Crown-Prince as he drove recklessly his
great Mercedes car along the Bismarckallee in the direction of Potsdam,
we passed an overdressed old woman, very artificial, with yellow hair,
and short of stature.
"Look, Heltzendorff! Is she not like that old crow, Von Kienitz?"
"Yes, her figure is very similar," I admitted.
"Ah! The old woman was introduced to me the other night at
Bismarck-Bohlen's house. _Himmel!_ What a freak! Have you seen her
wig?"
I replied that I had visited once or twice at the Stulerstrasse, and
that the company I had met there were certainly amusing. I mentioned
some of their names, among them that of young Von Ratibor, Major
Gersdorff, of the Death's Head Hussars, Von Heynitz, of the Koenigsjaeger,
a well-known man about town, his friend Winterfeld, together with a
number of ladies of the very ultra go-ahead set. At this His Highness
seemed highly interested.
"She certainly seems a very curious old person," he laughed. "Fancies
that she's but twenty-five, and actually had the audacity to dance at
Bismarck-Bohlen's. Somebody was cruel enough to ask her to sing a French
_chansonnette_!"
"Did she?" I inquired.
"Of course. She put herself into a martial attitude, and sang something
about 'Le drapeau' of 'Jacques Bonhomme,' as though we wished to know
anything about it. The man who suggested the song was sorry."
I laughed heartily. Sometimes the Crown-Prince could be humorous, and it
certainly must have been distinctly quaint when, as a result of the joke
played upon the old Countess, she so completely turned the tables upon
the party by singing a song full of French sentiment.
That circumstance told me that she must be a very clever old lady, even
though she wore that tow-coloured wig which sometimes on nights of
merriment got a trifle askew.
Judge my great surprise, however, when, about six weeks later, Frau von
Alvensleben, the pretty _Grande Maitresse_ of the Court of the
Crown-Princess, stopped me in one of the corridors of the Marmor Palace
and, drawing me aside, whispered:
"I have news for you, my dear Count. We have a new arrival at
Court--Frau Yellow-Wig."
I looked at her, for the moment puzzled. She saw that I did not follow
her.
"Countess von Kienitz--a friend of yours, I believe."
"Friend of mine!" I echoed. "I've only been to her house three or four
times, just in a crowd, and out of curiosity."
"_Oh, la la!_ Well, she has told the Crown-Princess that you are her
friend, and, in brief, has entirely fascinated Her Imperial Highness."
I gasped. At what a pass we had arrived when the Crown-Princess was
receiving that old woman whose reputation was of the gayest and most
scandalous!
What the _Grande Maitresse_ had told me was perfectly correct, for
three days later a dance was held, and as I entered the room I saw
amid that gay assemblage the yellow-haired old widow of the
long-forgotten military hero wagging her lace fan and talking quite
familiarly with Her Imperial Highness. To my utter amazement also,
His Majesty the Emperor, in the gay uniform of the 3rd Regiment of
Uhlans of Saxony--of whom he was chief, among a hundred-and-one other
high military distinctions--advanced and smiled graciously upon her as
she bowed as low as rheumatism and old age allowed.
The fascination which the ugly, shrill-voiced old woman exercised over
"Cilli" was quickly remarked, and, of course, gossip became more rife
than ever, especially when, a week later, it was announced that she had
actually been appointed a lady-in-waiting.
The Crown-Prince, too, soon became on friendly terms with her, and many
times I saw them chatting together as though exchanging confidences.
Why?
His Highness, usually so utterly piggish towards ladies, given to
snubbing even the highest-born in the Empire, was always smiling and
gracious towards her.
"I can't make it out," declared Von Behr, the Chamberlain _du service_,
to me one day two months later, while I was smoking with him in his
room. "The old woman has the most complete control over Her Highness.
Because she was averse to the journey, we are not going to Norway this
year. Besides, since her appointment she has succeeded in plotting the
dismissal of both Countess von Scheet-Plessen and Countess von
Brockdorff."
"I know," I replied. I had been discussing it only a few hours before
with Major von Amsberg, aide-de-camp of the Prince Eitel Frederic, and
he, too, had expressed himself both mystified and disgusted with the
mysterious power exercised by the old woman in the yellow wig. "It seems
so extraordinary," I went on, "that the Court should so utterly
disregard the woman's reputation."
"Bah, my dear Heltzendorff!" laughed the Chamberlain. "When a woman
arrives at seventy she has outlived all the peccadilloes of youth. And,
after all, the reputations of most of us here are tarnished--more or
less--eh?"
His remarks were indeed true. Nevertheless, it did not lessen the
mystery of the appointment of the little old Countess as a
lady-in-waiting, nor did it account for the strange influence which she
held over the Imperial pair.
One evening I went to the Countess's house in the Stulerstrasse to a
dinner-party, at which there were present the Crown-Prince, Admiral von
Spee from Kiel, and Von Ilberg, the Emperor's doctor, together with the
old Duke von Trachenberg, who held the honorary and out-of-date office
of grand cupbearer to the Emperor, and the eternal "Uncle" Zeppelin.
With us were a number of ladies, including their Serene Highnesses the
Princess von Radolin and the Duchess von Ratibor, both ladies of the
Court of the Kaiserin, and several others of the ultra-smart set.
After the meal there was a small dance, and about midnight, after
waltzing with a pretty girl, the daughter of the Baron von
Heintze-Weissenrode, we strolled together into the fine winter garden
with its high palms, its plashing fountains, and its cunningly-secreted
electric lights.
I was seated with her, chatting gaily, for we had met in July at
Stubbenkammer, on the island of Ruegen. She had been staying with her
father at Eichstadt's, in Nipmerow, and we had all three been on some
pleasant excursions along the Baltic coast, with its picturesque beech
woods, white cliffs, and blue bays.
We were recalling a delightful excursion up to the Herthaburg, on the
road to Sassnitz, that "altar of sacrifice" which tradition connects
with the mysterious rites of the beautiful goddess Hertha, mentioned by
Tacitus, when suddenly we overheard voices.
Two persons were approaching somewhere behind us, conversing in
Italian--a man and a woman.
"Hush!" I whispered mischievously. "Listen! Do you know Italian?"
"Alas! no," was her reply. "Do you?"
I did not answer, for I had already recognized the voices as those of
our hostess and the Crown-Prince.
Next moment, however, my companion's quick ears caught that unmistakable
squeaky voice.
"Why, it's the Countess!" she exclaimed.
I made no reply, but continued to recall that glorious summer's day
beside the blue Baltic, while His Highness and the little old
lady-in-waiting seated themselves out of sight a short distance away,
and continued a very confidential discussion in an undertone in the
language in which, after German, I happened perhaps to be most
proficient.
The pair were discussing somebody named Karl Krahl, and the curious
discussion was undoubtedly regarding some evil intent.
"I saw the Emperor to-day," declared the old woman in her sibilant
Italian, so that no one should understand, for Italian is seldom spoken
in Germany. "His Majesty shares my views now, though he did not do so
at first. Indeed, I was very near being dismissed in disgrace when I
first broached the affair. But, fortunately, he now knows the truth and
sees the advantage of--well, you know, eh?"
"_Certo, Contessa_," replied the Crown-Prince, who speaks Italian
extremely well, though not with half the fluency of his hostess. "I
quite foresee the peril and the force of your argument."
"How shall we act?" asked the old woman. "It remains for you to devise a
plan. At any moment matters may approach a crisis. One can never account
for the confidences exchanged by those who love each other. And,
remember, Krahl is in love."
The Crown-Prince grunted, but as several couples entered at that moment
the pair suddenly broke off their confidential chat, and, rising, went
out together.
Who was this Karl Krahl against whom some deep-laid plot was levelled?
I searched various directories, lists of persons engaged in the
Government offices in the Wilhelmstrasse, the Leipzigerstrasse, and
Unter den Linden; I consulted the Director of Berlin Police, Von Jagow;
the well-known Detective Schunke, and Heinrich Wesener,
Assistant-Director of the Secret Service of the General Staff; but
nobody knew Karl Krahl. There seemed to be no record of him anywhere.
In October I went with the Crown-Prince and the Emperor upon a round of
ceremonial military inspections to the garrisons in Silesia--namely,
Breslau, Leignitz, and Oppeln--and afterwards to Luebeck, where we
presented new colours to two regiments. Thence, while the Emperor and
his Staff returned direct to Berlin, I accompanied His Imperial Highness
to Ballenstedt, the beautiful schloss in the Harz Mountains. Here once
or twice each season the Crown-Prince's habit was to invite a few of his
most intimate chums to shoot in the forests of Stecklenberg and the
Lauenberg, and along that curious sandstone ridge known as the
Teufelsmauer, or "Devil's Wall."
The sport was always excellent, especially about the romantic district
of Neue Schenke, near Suderode.
The guns consisted of five well-known officers from Berlin, together
with Dr. Zeising, the Master-General of Forests, and Lieut.-General von
Oertzen, the fat old Inspector-General of Cavalry. As usual, we all had
a most enjoyable time.
On the third day, after a champagne luncheon taken at the forester's
little house at Neue Schenke, we were about to resume our sport. Indeed,
all the guests had gone outside, preparing to go to their allotted
stations, when the head forester, a stalwart man in green livery,
entered, and, addressing the Crown-Prince, said:
"There is a man to see Your Imperial Highness, and refuses to leave. He
gives his name as Karl Krahl."
In an instant I pricked up my ears.
His Highness's brows narrowed for a second, which showed his annoyance,
then, smiling affably, so clever was he, like his Imperial father, in
the concealment of his real feelings--he replied:
"Oh, yes--Krahl! I recollect. Yes, I will see him here."
Next moment the person whom I had heard discussed so strangely in the
little old woman's beautiful winter garden was ushered in.
He was dark-haired, aged about twenty-eight, I judged, with small,
shrewd black eyes, dressed in a well-cut suit of grey country tweeds,
and but for his German name I should have taken him for an English
tourist, one of those familiar objects of the Harz in peace time. His
appearance instantly interested me, the more so owing to the fact that
he had come to that remote spot and at that hour to pay a visit to the
Emperor's son.
"Come in, Karl!" exclaimed the Crown-Prince affably, as he grasped his
visitor's hand. His Highness did not often offer his manicured hand to
others, and at this I was, I admit, greatly surprised. "The forester did
not know you, of course. Well, I am very pleased to see you. Have you
come straight here?"
"Yes, your Highness. I went first to Berlin, and learning that you were
here I thought I had better lose no time."
"Quite right," laughed his Highness who, turning to me, said:
"Heltzendorff, will you tell the others to go on--that I am detained for
an hour on State business, and--and that I will join them as soon as
possible. I will find you in the woods, on the left of the Quedlinburg
Road, before one comes to the Wurmtal. Apologize for me, but the delay
is inevitable. I have a conference with Herr Krahl."
While His Highness remained behind at the forester's house to chat alone
with the mysterious Karl Krahl, we went out among the birds and had some
excellent sport. Yet the sight of that ferret-eyed young man, whom I had
long endeavoured in vain to trace, caused me considerable wonderment.
Who was that young fellow in whom the little old Countess seemed to take
such deep and peculiar interest? What was his offence that she, with the
Crown-Prince, should concoct, as it seemed to me, such a plot as that I
had partly overheard?
That there was a woman in the case I felt assured, but her name had not
been mentioned, and I had no suspicion of whom it could be. I realized,
however, that something important must be in progress, otherwise His
Highness, devoted to sport as he was, would never have given up the best
afternoon to consult with that stranger in grey tweeds.
The forester and beaters had come with us, as the Crown-Prince had, at
his own request, been left alone with his mysterious visitor.
After a couple of short beats we arrived at the spot on the forest road
to Quedlinburg, a most romantic and picturesque gorge, where His
Highness had arranged to meet us, and there we sat down and waited. Both
Von Oertzen and Dr. Zeising, being unduly stout, had been puffed in
coming up the steep mountain side, and as we sat we gossiped, though
impatient to set forth again.
A full half-hour had passed, yet the head forester, who was keeping a
look-out along the road, did not signal His Highness's approach.
"I wonder what can have detained him?" remarked the Inspector-General of
Cavalry.