Everyone, I presume, is acquainted with that old French saying, "_Dis
moi qui tu hantes et je te dirai qui tu es!_" which may be rendered in
English: "Tell me with whom you associate and I will tell you who
you are!" While this adage is almost invariably true in the case of
ordinary people, it would hardly be just to apply it where monarchs
and princes of the blood are concerned. Given that every form of
pleasure, of entertainment and of amusement is always within their
reach, thanks to the loftiness of their station, their wealth, and
facilitated furthermore by the anxiety of their courtiers both to
please them and to retain their favor, they naturally soon become
blasé to such an extent that they become a prey to ennui--a thoroughly
royal malady, from which few, if any, of the scions of the reigning
houses of Europe are exempt. "Ennui," like "chic," is a French
word difficult to translate and subject to much misinterpretation,
especially in the United States, where it is practically unknown. The
majority of Americans are far too busy, and are environed by too much
bustle and activity to experience such a thing as ennui, and even the
American leisure class, still in an embryo condition, as a rule are
too new to their privileges to have that feeling. To suffer from ennui
implies so deep a knowledge of life, and a corresponding satiety of
its pleasures, that all the ordinary routine events of existence have
no longer any power to interest the mind. Ennui is not weariness nor
tediousness, as described in the dictionary; neither is it boredom,
for the latter differs therefrom in its not necessarily being the
outcome of a high degree of civilization, which ennui certainly is.
An untutored savage of Central Africa, or of the wilds of Australia
may be bored; so are many of the ignorant houris of Oriental harems
and zenanas. Nay, even an energetic business man may feel
temporarily bored by enforced bodily or mental inaction, or by dreary
associations; but that can scarcely be described as _ennui_, a feeling
which in the true sense of the word means being thoroughly _blasé_
and oppressed by moral and physical satiety. You must know everything,
have tried everything, have had all your personal wishes and desires
satisfied, all obstacles removed from your path, and pass your way
through life with the firm conviction that there remains nothing to
interest or arouse your ambition in order to be a victim of _ennui_.
The greatest sufferers from this disagreeable sensation are, as I
have just remarked, the royal and imperial personages of Europe, and
although the emperors of Germany and Austria have the greater
portion of their time taken up by the business of the State, and the
administration of the government of their respective countries, yet
neither of them is exempt from ennui. Indeed, there are no princes
whose features betray to such an extent unmistakable evidence of
ennui, as those of the imperial house of Hapsburg, while Emperor
William's choice of many of his friends is guided by the powers which
they may possess to entertain him, and to deliver him in his hours of
leisure from that dreaded complaint. Of course there are exceptions to
this rule, and there are several of Emperor William's cronies who owe
the friendship of their sovereign to kindnesses which they rendered,
and devotion which they displayed to him, in the days prior to
his accession to the throne. But in the majority of instances,
the sometimes strange selection of friends made by the emperor is
attributable to the fact that the personages to whom he accords his
favor succeed in amusing and entertaining him during the time that he
is not occupied with the cares of his empire.
Conspicuous among friends of this particular character, is Baron von
Kiderlen-Waechter, who holds the rank of minister plenipotentiary in
the diplomatic service of Germany, and who was recently, and possibly
still remains, Prussian envoy to the Court of Denmark, but who is
known in the imperial circle at Berlin by the nickname of "August,"
that being the "sobriquet" given to the clowns belonging to
variety-shows and circuses in England, Austria, and France. In fact,
he certainly occupies among William's immediate circle of cronies and
associates the position of court jester, and the emperor makes a point
of taking the baron along with him whenever he goes on his annual
yachting trips along the coast of Sweden and Norway. The latter is the
life and soul of these imperial yachting parties, his witticisms, his
antics, and, above all, his inimitable talent for mimicry keeping even
the sailors of the _Hohenzollern_ in continual roars of laughter. Yet
he can be grave and dignified on state occasions, and when one sees
him at the Court of Berlin arrayed in full uniform, his breast
covered with decorations, it is difficult to realize that this
imposing-looking diplomat is the principal partner of the autocrat
of Germany in such juvenile games as "Hot Cockles," which is a very
favorite game on board the _Hohenzollern_, and in which the kneeling
and blindfolded victim receives a terrific spank or smack, and then
has to guess, under the penalty of ridiculous forfeits, who it is that
struck him!
No one would ever have dreamt of finding any fault with this intimacy
between the emperor and the baron, had it not been for the fact that
the latter laid himself open to charges of having taken advantage of
the imperial favor won by mimicry and practical joking, to further
political and personal intrigues in which he was interested. Indeed,
he was repeatedly accused in the German press of being largely
responsible for the manifestation of animosity between the Court of
Berlin and Friedrichsrüh that characterized the last eight or nine
years of the life of Prince Bismarck. The newspapers did not
hesitate to assert that the baron, who had formerly been one of the
confidential secretaries of the old chancellor, had deliberately
fomented the irritation of the kaiser against the veteran statesman,
believing that any reconciliation between the monarch and his former
chancellor would entail the baron's disgrace. Finally, the abuse
of the baron in the Berlin press became so pronounced that he
was virtually obliged to challenge the editor of one of the most
vituperative of the metropolitan sheets, and very gallantly lodged a
bullet through the shoulder of this "knight of the quill!"
For this escapade the baron was condemned to three months'
imprisonment by the courts, duelling, as has been intimated already,
being forbidden by law in Germany. His incarceration in the military
fortress of Ehrenbreitstein on the Rhine was absolutely unprecedented.
Ambassadors and envoys have in times gone by been imprisoned by
sovereigns to whose courts they were accredited, in defiance of all
the laws of international right regulating the intercourse between
civilized powers, but this was the first occasion of a government
taking the unheard-of step of jailing one of its own envoys.
Fortunately for the baron, the King of Denmark was, before his
accession to the throne, an officer of the German army, and as such
was disposed to regard with the utmost leniency the offence for which
his excellency was condemned to imprisonment. He realized that
the baron had no alternative but to fight, his honor having been
questioned by the paper whose editor he challenged. Although duelling
is forbidden by the criminal law of Germany, under the penalty of
imprisonment, yet, had the baron failed to fight, and taken shelter
behind the law, he would not only have been compelled to resign his
diplomatic office, his position at court, and his rank in the army,
but he would have subjected himself to such odium as to have become
to all intents and purposes a social outcast, and compelled to leave
Germany.
Appreciating this, old King Christian raised no objections to the
appointment of a chargé d'affaires, to represent the diplomatic
interests of Germany at his court, during the term of imprisonment
served by the minister plenipotentiary, and from the moment when the
latter completed his term, and was liberated from prison, he resumed
his duties as envoy at the Court of Copenhagen, just as if nothing had
happened.
Another intimate friend of the kaiser, who possesses much the same
_talents de société_ as Baron Kiderlen-Waechter, and whose position
in the high favor of the kaiser has been a subject of much unfavorable
comment, and even of open abuse in Berlin, is Baron Holstein,
popularly known as the "_Austern-Freund"_ or "Oyster-Friend," owing to
his altogether phenomenal capacity for the absorption of bivalves, and
his strongly developed fondness for good cheer! Baron Holstein,
like Baron Kiderlen-Waechter, was formerly one of the confidential
secretaries of Prince Bismarck, and a daily guest at his table, and
was treated as a member of the old chancellor's family for years, yet
he became one of the most relentless foes of the Bismarck family as
soon as the prince was dismissed from office.
Prince Bismarck was not the sort of man to submit in silence to the
enmity of his former secretary, and a few years after his retirement
to Friedrichsrüh he took occasion, during the course of a public
discussion of the circumstances which led to the disgrace and ruin
of Count Harry Arnim, for a long time German ambassador at Paris, to
disclose for the first time in speech, and in print, the part which
Baron Holstein had played in the affair. According to the prince,
Baron Holstein, while first secretary of the German embassy at Paris,
and though treated by Count Arnim as an inmate of his home, living
in fact under his roof, and eating at his table, was in the habit
throughout an entire year of sending secret reports to Berlin against
the chief under whom he was serving--reports which subsequently
furnished the basis of the charges upon which Count Arnim was tried,
convicted and disgraced.
It is true that some mention was made in the Parisian and English
press at the time of the Arnim trial of the questionable rôle which
Baron Holstein had played in the affair, and there were a number of
Parisian papers that did not hesitate to hold up the baron to, at
any rate, French obloquy, as a man guilty of the base betrayal of the
kindest and most indulgent of chiefs. The only person on that occasion
who had the courage to take up the baron's defence was M. de Blowitz,
French correspondent of the London _Times_, of which he is described
on the banks of the Seine, as the "ambassador," and who possesses
an immense amount of influence with the Parisian press. Blowitz's
championship of the baron's cause was sincerely appreciated by the
latter. He called upon the correspondent, thanked him effusively, and
declared that it was his intervention alone that had made his stay at
Paris possible.
During the conversation that followed, Blowitz opened his heart to his
visitor, telling him that his own position as the Paris correspondent
of the _Times_ was in danger owing to some changes in the
administration of the London office. A fortnight later, Blowitz
received from the managing editor of the _Times_ in London a letter
sixteen pages long, addressed to Printing-House Square, and entirely
written and signed by Baron Holstein. It denounced Blowitz as being
one of the creatures of the late Duc Decazes, as wilfully ignoring
and concealing for interested purposes of his own, a number of matters
that should have found their way into the columns of the _Times_, and
urging the managers of the latter to send to Paris some fitter and
more impartial person, who would be better able to keep the great
English newspaper _au courant_ of what was going on below as well as
above the surface, than so unscrupulous a person as M. de Blowitz.
This letter was dated exactly three days after the latter's visit of
gratitude to the correspondent, and the incident may be regarded as
being in perfect harmony with the behavior of this favorite of the
kaiser to both Count Harry Arnim and subsequently to Prince Bismarck.
The third of these cronies of the kaiser, to whom his subjects take
objection on the ground that they are in the habit of using the favor
shown to them by his majesty to further their own interests, and
to injure those who, for one reason or another, have incurred their
animosity, is Count Philip Eulenburg, who has been again and again
referred to in the Berlin newspapers as "the Troubadour." He is at the
present moment German ambassador at Vienna, whence his predecessor,
Prince Reuss, was ousted in spite of the eminent services of a
personal character which he had rendered to the emperor, in order to
make way for the count. The latter's intimacy with his sovereign is
largely due to his cleverness as a poet, a dramatist, and a
composer, and while he has furnished the words to many of the musical
compositions of the kaiser, William has, in turn, had much of his own
poetry set to music by the count.
Philip Eulenburg has been clever enough to foster William's very
pardonable weakness as to his gifts as a musician and a poet, and
being a man of the most charming manners, possessed of an unusual
supply of tact, and extremely accomplished in many respects, he has
acquired an extraordinary degree of influence over his sovereign.
Indeed it may be doubted whether there is any member of the imperial
entourage who stands as high in the good graces of the German ruler as
does his ambassador to the Court of Vienna.
Each year the emperor makes a point of spending a week at Liebenberg,
the country-seat of the count, and it has long been a matter
of comment that these visits are invariably signalized by the
inauguration of some political or administrative move on the part of
the kaiser. It was, indeed, at Liebenberg that the emperor decided
upon the dismissal from the chancellorship of General Count Caprivi,
who had been unfortunate enough to incur the enmity of the Eulenburgs.
Count Philip, who possesses a fine voice, and who during the
annual yachting trip of the emperor on board the _Hohenzollern_, is
accustomed to sing duets with the monarch, and to play the latter's
accompaniments, is not, as is generally supposed, the brother,
but merely the cousin of Botho, Augustus, and the late Count Wend
Eulenburg. His career was almost wrecked at its very outset by
an incident which developed into an international question. While
stationed as a young sub-lieutenant of cavalry at Bonn, he was one day
inadvertently jostled in the street by a gray-haired and rather portly
stranger, whom he at once addressed in the most insulting manner. Upon
the stranger responding in kind, the count drew his sabre and cut the
man down, inflicting upon him such a wound that he expired a short
time afterwards at the hospital. There it was discovered that he
was one Ott, a Frenchman, and one of the chefs of Queen Victoria,
momentarily detached from his duties at Windsor Castle, in order
to attend her majesty's second son, the Duke of Edinburgh,--now the
reigning sovereign of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha,--during his stay on the
continent. Both the queen and Prince Alfred were indignant at the
outrage, which was made the subject of an acrimonious correspondence
between the English, French and Prussian Governments, the result being
that Count Philip was sentenced to pay heavy damages to the widow
and to the orphaned children of his victim, and to undergo a year's
imprisonment in a fortress.
He only joined the diplomatic profession in 1881, when he was
appointed as third secretary to the German embassy at Paris, and he
occupied very inferior rôles in the diplomatic service of his country
until the accession to the throne of his friend and patron, Emperor
William, who promoted him a few weeks later, at one bound, from the
post of second secretary of the legation at Munich to the rank
of Prussian minister-plenipotentiary at Aldenberg, whence he was
transferred a year later to Stuttgart, then, to The Hague, and then
back to Munich, as chief of the legation, which post he retained until
his nomination in 1892 to the German ambassadorship at Vienna, that is
to say, to the blue ribbon of the diplomatic service of the kaiser.
He is generally regarded as destined in course of time to become
chancellor of the empire, in spite of the human blood with which his
hands are stained.
Both the court and the public object far less to the intimacy that
exists between Count Augustus Eulenburg and his imperial friend, for
Augustus, who is the grand master of the imperial household and the
chief executive dignitary of the court, has been the closest associate
of William since the latter's earliest boyhood. He was one of those
officials whom Prince Bismarck forced upon the then crown prince
and crown princess, in order to keep watch over their actions and
to counteract their influence on their eldest son. It was he, Count
Augustus, who acted as the comforter of William whenever he was
subjected to reproof or to disciplinary measures by his father or
mother; who invariably espoused the lad's cause, and who contributed
more than anyone else to convince William that he was a victim of the
most cruel and unmerited form of parental severity and persecution. He
constituted himself the mentor and the guide of the prince, initiated
him into all the intricacies of the imperial court, as well as into
the secrets of its most prominent members. In one word, he rendered
himself so indispensable to the prince, that as soon as the latter
succeeded to the throne he at once appointed Count Augustus Eulenburg
to the grand mastership of the court and household.
To what extent Emperor and Empress Frederick were aware of the spirit
characterizing the count's relations with their eldest son, it is
difficult to say, but there is no doubt that during the last two or
three years of Emperor Frederick's life, the position of Augustus in
the household of "Unser Fritz" was vastly improved and facilitated by
the sensational quarrels of his elder brother, Count Botho Eulenburg,
the celebrated statesman, with Prince Bismarck, for both Frederick
and his wife, from, that time forth, ceased to look upon Augustus as a
creature and a spy of the chancellor.
How great was the intimacy between William and the count, may be
gathered from the fact that Augustus was the invariable and sole
companion of the emperor in that species of Haroun-al-Raschid
nocturnal expeditions which his majesty was wont to undertake in the
slums of his capital, for the purpose of learning what his people were
saying about him. At that time, his features were far less familiar
to the public than they are to-day, and by giving his moustache
a different twist, and his hair another turn, he experienced no
difficulty in disguising himself. The adventures which he met with
during the course of these nightly prowls in the company of Count
Augustus are numerous enough to fill a book. Still, while they
furnished plenty of amusement, excitement, and experiences not
altogether unpleasant, they involved his majesty, on one or two
occasions, in so much personal danger, that the count, realizing the
responsibility which would rest upon his shoulders in the eyes not
merely of the nation, but of the entire world, if anything untoward
happened to the monarch, induced him, though with difficulty, to
abandon this species of pastime so dear to crowned heads.
Let me add that it was on the occasion of one of these expeditions
that the emperor met with a very severe injury to his hand. There
is an old established usage in Berlin, on New Year's eve, which
prescribed that any man appearing in the street in a high or stiff hat
should be incontinently bonneted, that is to say, have his hat crushed
down over his eyes and ears by a blow of the fist. Emperor William,
who is somewhat fond of rough horse-play, used to delight in this form
of amusement, and on the first New Year's eve after his accession
to the throne, he sallied forth with Augustus Eulenburg in search of
adventures. Catching sight of a portly citizen of mature years walking
along under the shadows of the trees that line the magnificent avenue
known as "Unter den Linden," he immediately proceeded to crush
the high silk hat which the man wore by a tremendous blow from his
imperial fist! He was unable, however, to refrain from a cry of pain,
and his companion the count, on seeing that his sovereign's hand was
drenched with blood, at once summoned the two detectives who were
following discreetly in the rear, and caused them to arrest the
citizen. The man on being searched at the palace police station, was
found to be a merchant of high standing, who, determined to get even
with the practical jokers from whose brutality he himself had suffered
on previous New Year's eves, had devised a sort of thick leather
hat-lining, armed with long and sharp prongs, pointed outward like the
quills of a porcupine. The emperor, on smashing the hat, naturally had
his hand dreadfully lacerated. The citizen was kept under arrest
for twenty-four hours, during which the question was discussed as to
whether he should be prosecuted and punished for inflicting personal
injury upon the sovereign, or not. Finally, William himself, with
that good sense which so often characterizes him, gave orders for his
liberation, on the ground that he could not possibly have dreamt that
he would be bonneted by his sovereign, that he was, therefore, quite
innocent of any intention to inflict injury upon the person of the
emperor, and that he, William, had, after all, got nothing but what
he deserved for playing such a prank. Moreover, in order to show the
citizen that he bore him no grudge, he sent him, by way of consolation
for his arrest and the destruction of his hat, a portrait bearing the
autograph signature of the kaiser, as well as the words: "In memory of
_Sylvester-nacht_."--New Year's eve is sacred to Saint Sylvester.
Count Botho Eulenburg, the elder brother of Augustus, has repeatedly
held the offices of cabinet minister and Premier of Prussia. He
happened to be at the head of the Department of the Interior at
the time when the attempts were made by Nobiling to assassinate old
Emperor William, and ever since that time has been the sworn foe of
socialism, and identified with everything that is reactionary and
despotic in Prussian legislation. His influence with the emperor is
very great, and there is no doubt that he has contributed in a great
measure to the somewhat extravagant views which the kaiser entertains
with regard to the Divine Rights of monarchs, and especially
concerning their responsibility, not towards their people alone, but
also towards the Almighty.
Count Botho's quarrel with Prince Bismarck, originated in the
following manner. The count, in accordance with a decision reached at
a cabinet meeting, spoke as Minister of the Interior in the Prussian
Diet in favor of placing the communal councils under the provincial
board, instead of under the central government. He had no sooner sat
down than a member arose and said that he was instructed by the Prime
Minister, Prince Bismarck, to disavow the view taken by the Minister
of the Interior. This extraordinary action of the prince was due
to the fact that he had suddenly decided upon coquetting with the
Liberals, for the sake of obtaining their support upon the subject of
another of his little inaugurations. Count Botho immediately sent in
his resignation, and did not resume office until after the disgrace of
Prince Bismarck. Previous to this quarrel, however, as I have
already stated, the most intimate relations had subsisted between the
Eulenburgs and the Bismarcks. Indeed, Countess Marie, only daughter
of Prince Bismarck, was at one time betrothed to Wend, the youngest of
the three Eulenburg brothers. Three days before the day fixed for
the wedding, the young man was suddenly seized with typhus, and
forty-eight hours later succumbed to this awful disease. Countess
Marie, it may be added, subsequently married Count Rantzau, after
having been between times engaged to Baron Eisendecker, once German
envoy at Washington, and now the kaiser's adviser in yachting matters,
whom she jilted in consequence of differences of religious opinion.
So much for the Eulenburgs, who may be said to constitute the most
influential family at the Court of Berlin, and without a description
of whom no history of the life and surroundings of Emperor William
could possibly be regarded as complete.
Other cronies of the kaiser, who are less influential in a political
sense, and, therefore, less obnoxious to the people, are Counts
Douglas, Count Dohna, and Count Goertz. Public attention, however, has
often been drawn to the friendship of the kaiser for the Dohnas by
the frequency of the imperial visit with which Count Richard Dohna
is honored at his superb old château of Schlobitten, and likewise by
reason of the fact that on two occasions William almost lost his life
through carriage accidents which he sustained while out driving with
the count.
[Illustration: _THE RUNAWAY AT PROECKELWITZ_
_After a drawing by Oreste Cortazzo_]
The Dohnas are one of the most ancient houses of the old German
nobility, and Schlobitten, with its grand old park, shaded by glorious
trees, has been in the possession of the family since the fourteenth
century. The castle, as now arranged, is only two hundred years old,
having been reconstructed on the site, and with the ruins, of an
ancient monastery and dwelling. The name of Dohna is recorded in the
most important pages of Prussian history. Statesmen, generals, and
in particular, confidants and cronies of their successive rulers have
borne that name, and there is not a king who has reigned over Prussia,
and previous to that an elector who has ruled over Brandenburg,
who has not stayed at the castle of Schlobitten and occupied the
antiquated four-poster bed, in which the present emperor sleeps
whenever he makes a visit there.
Count Richard Dohna is a great breeder of blooded horses, a
magnificent whip, and the accidents which happened to the kaiser,
while out driving with him, were merely due to the fact that in each
case the horses were too young, and not sufficiently broken in. On one
occasion, the drag was upset into a ditch not far from Schlobitten,
the kaiser and the count being severely bruised and shaken up; while
at another time a splendid team got beyond the control of the count,
smashed harnesses and pole, and dashed helter-skelter into the little
town of Proeckelwitz, where they were fortunately stopped without
further mishap.
The intimacy of the kaiser with the Dohna family serves to recall the
fact that there was a daughter of this house, Countess Anna Dohna, who
claimed to have become the wife of the late Emperor William. She lived
for a time in London, Geneva, and then in New York, and was wont to
style herself Countess Dohna-Brandenburg, having added the name of
Brandenburg to that of Dohna by reason of this alleged marriage.
While in New York she lived in a large house in Lexington Avenue,
which she furnished handsomely, and she never seemed to be in want of
money. According to her own story she met the late Emperor William in
1825, during the lifetime of his father, King Frederick-William III.,
when she was sixteen years of age. After several clandestine meetings,
she claimed that they were married late one night at Clegnitz, in
Silesia, by a young country parson. The latter did not know the
prince, who gave the name of William Count Brandenburg, and his
occupation as that of an officer of the Royal Guards. The marriage
certificate was duly made out, and then her husband told her that it
would be expedient to keep their union secret for a time. To this she
reluctantly assented.
When at length, urged by her entreaties, her husband revealed their
marriage to his father, King Frederick-William III., he flew into a
terrible rage, forced him to sign a renunciation of the countess's
hand, and she was conveyed to a small castle near Königsberg, in
East-Prussia, where she was kept a close prisoner for years. In 1837,
always according to her story, she succeeded in escaping, and crossing
the Polish frontier reached Warsaw, where in the following year she
was recognized at a state performance of the opera given by Czar
Nicholas, in honor of the King of Prussia and Prince William, who were
visiting the Russian Court.
She was arrested at the theatre, and on the following morning conveyed
to Eastern Russia, where she was kept under strict surveillance until
the death of Frederick-William III., in 1840, led to her release.
She was then permitted to return to Prussia, and the new king,
Frederick-William IV., offered to compromise the matter with her. This
she refused to do. Her father's death placed her in possession of a
large fortune, and she spent several years in travelling.
In 1848 she intended to appeal to the Prussian National Assembly for
justice, but the police got wind of it, and she was interned in her
château in Silesia. On William becoming King of Prussia, she was given
the alternative of leaving the country or of becoming an inmate of
a lunatic asylum, so she transferred her abode to Paris, and after
living for awhile in London and Geneva, came to New York in 1876.
The truth of this story having been questioned, it may be mentioned
that the Prussian _Staats Anzeiger_, or official Berlin Gazette, of
June 4, 1829, contains the following royal decree:
"By order of his majesty the king, Anna Countess Dohna having claimed
to be the wife of Prince William of Prussia, I hereby decree that such
a union if it ever took place, be null and void.
"FREDERICK WILLIAM, Rex.
"ANTHONY VON ALTENSTEIN,
"Secretary of State."
I have seen it mentioned both in German and foreign publications that
the three Counts of Brandenburg, two of them distinguished generals,
and the third for many years Prussian envoy at Brussels, were the
issue of the union of Countess Anna Dohna and old Emperor William of
Germany. But this is not true; for their father, a famous premier and
soldier, of whom a fine statue exists at Berlin, was the son of
King Frederick-William II. of Prussia, and his morganatic wife, the
Countess of Dohenhoff.
With regard to Count Douglas, I may state that the kaiser's intimacy
with him dates back to many years prior to his accession to the
throne. Like his twin brother, Count Louis Douglas, the Swedish
statesman, who until a few weeks ago occupied the post of minister of
foreign affairs at Stockholm, Count Willie Douglas may be said to have
royal blood in his veins, for his father, old Count Douglas, now dead,
married the morganatic daughter of a royal princess of the reigning
house of Baden. On the old count's death, William, the elder of the
twins, inherited his mother's vast property, while Louis, the younger,
took possession of his father's estates in Sweden.
William was educated in Germany, is an officer of the Prussian army,
as well as a member of the Prussian House of Lords: Louis was brought
up in Sweden, entered the Swedish army, became chamberlain to the
Crown Prince of Sweden, married the daughter of Count Ehrensward, late
minister of foreign affairs at Stockholm, and eventually succeeded to
his father-in-law's post at the head of Sweden's foreign office. Like
his twin brother in Prussia, he is exceedingly conservative, imbued
with the necessity of retaining the old feudal prerogatives, and of
placing every obstacle in the way of the rising tide of democracy.
Indeed, whatever influence he exercises over the King and Crown Prince
of Sweden, is as reactionary as any influence which his German brother
may be said to enjoy over the kaiser.
The Douglas twins are descended from the great Scotch family of
Douglas, and are therefore allied to the Duke of Hamilton and the
Marquis of Queensberry. Their ancestors emigrated to Prussia
from Scotland at the time of the Thirty Years' War, fought under
Gustavus-Adolphus, and afterwards returned with him to Sweden, where
they became members of the Swedish nobility. Count Willie, like his
brother, displays all the hereditary traits of the Scotch house that
bears his name, having the peculiar jaw, falling underlip, and dark
complexion of the celebrated "Black Douglas." Yet neither of the twins
speaks a word of English, nor has ever visited the land of his sire,
though they bear the Douglas motto of "Do or Die." Count Willie has
few British sympathies, but some British tastes, being famous as
a four-in-hand whip, and as a magnificent shot. He is also very
hospitable, and entertains at Berlin in a right royal fashion, his
wealth, derived from the mines which he owns in the Hartz Mountains,
enabling him to do so without hesitation on the score of expense.
It is no secret that Emperor William has, on two or three occasions,
offered a cabinet office to his friend William Douglas, who has,
however, invariably declined it, much to the relief of those who are
convinced that the same peculiar moral and psychological affinity
exists between the Douglas twins as that attributed to the Corsican
brothers. It would have been, they declare, a dangerous experiment to
have had one of them directing the foreign policy of Germany, and the
other that of the kingdoms of Sweden and Norway.
It may interest my American readers to add that a few years ago Count
Willie Douglas was the defendant in an extraordinary lawsuit at Berlin
which had an American end to it. It seems that some thirty years ago a
man of the name of Brandt died in the United States, leaving a fortune
of several millions of dollars. Having no near relatives in America,
the lawyers advertised for any heirs that he might have left
behind him in Germany. The father of Count Douglas was at the time
burgomaster of the little town of Aschersleben, and one day some of
the inhabitants of the place bearing the name of Brandt placed a lot
of papers in his hands, asking him to glance over them, and to see
whether there was any truth in the statement that they were heirs
to an immense fortune in America. The old count, in his capacity of
burgomaster, declared that the affair looked to him very questionable,
that he believed it was a mere swindle, and that there was surely
nothing in it for them. Whether he returned to them the papers or
not, is unknown, but he declared to the day of his death that he had
restored them, whereas the Brandts of Aschersleben swear that he did
not. Eventually, they brought suit against his son, not merely for
the recovery of the documents, but likewise for the fortune, actually
alleging that the latter had been appropriated by old Count Douglas,
with the connivance of the late Prince Bismarck, who had received a
large share of the plunder. It is scarcely necessary to state that
they were non-suited.
Emperor William's intimacy with Count and Countess Goertz may be said
to be a sort of inherited friendship, the count's father, president
of the Hessian House of Lords, and his consort, a princess of
Sayn-Wittgenstein, having been the most intimate friends of Emperor
and Empress Frederick, whose acquaintance they made through the
late Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Hesse. In order to show the
affectionate relations existing between the parents of the kaiser
and those of the present head of the ancient and illustrious house of
Goertz, it is merely necessary to state that Professor Hintzpeter, who
for a number of years directed the education of Emperor William and
his brother Henry, and who, as their old tutor, retains much influence
over both the imperial brothers, was selected by Emperor and Empress
Frederick for the purpose, on the personal recommendation of the late
Count and Countess Goertz, in whose family he had resided for a number
of years as tutor to their son.
In fact, the present Count Goertz, who is some eight or nine years the
senior of the emperor, can boast, like the latter, of having been
a pupil of old Hintzpeter, who in some respects is the German
counterpart of the late Czar Alexander's tutor, M. Pobietnotzoff.
That William shares the confidence placed by his parents in the Goertz
family is shown by the fact that when he found it necessary, at
one time, to obtain the services of a tutor for one of his young
relatives, in a case, it must be added, of particular delicacy, he
at once nominated to the post Professor Krenge, who at the time was
tutoring the sons of the present Count Goertz. Countess Goertz is a
woman of great beauty, which she may be said to have inherited from
her mother, the so-celebrated Countess of Villeneuve, wife to the
Brazilian envoy to the Court of Brussels, and renowned throughout
Europe on account of her loveliness.
Although the admiration which the kaiser displays for the fascinating
countess is of the most undisguised character, it fails to excite the
jealousy either of his consort or the count, and the relations between
the empress and the countess are so close that the former has been
known to lend to her friend articles of jewelry, and even of dress,
for use at fancy dress balls and elsewhere. The emperor and the count
are also as united and unrestrained with each other as two men can be
who have the same tastes, who have been intimately acquainted since
childhood, and whose parents have been close friends before them. It
is doubtful whether William ever enjoys himself so much, or feels so
thoroughly at home, as when visiting the Goertzes at Schlitz. There
his days are spent in shooting and hunting with the count, and the
evenings in composing new melodies, and setting songs to music with
the countess. The emperor's children and the young Goertzes are bound
by equal ties of affection, and are old-time playmates, so that there
seems every likelihood of this friendship between the Hohenzollerns
and the former reigning sovereign house of Goertz being continued in
the third generation.
No account of the emperor's private life can be properly written
without including a brief sketch of General Count von Hahnke, and of
Baron von Lucanus. The former is the chief of the military cabinet of
the emperor, and the other is at the head of his civil cabinet, that
is to say, he occupies the post of principal private secretary. Both
of them accompany the emperor wherever he goes, and in fact constitute
his very shadow, enjoying by reason of their proximity to the
sovereign, and by their close association with him, a far greater
degree of power and influence than any cabinet minister.
Baron Lucanus is an extremely good-looking man, whose popular nickname
at Berlin, namely, "the emperor's Blackie Man," is in nowise due to
any swarthiness of complexion, but to the fact that among the great
dignitaries in attendance on the emperor, he is the only one in
civilian attire, while moreover he is invariably selected by the
sovereign to convey to any cabinet minister, whose resignation is
required, the imperial intimation "_that he has ceased to please_."
It was Baron von Lucanus who communicated to Prince Bismarck the
emperor's request and subsequent peremptory command for the surrender
of the chancellorship of the empire, and it was he, too, who was
sent to ask Bismarck's successor, General Count Caprivi, for his
resignation; in fact, there has not been a single ministerial head
to fall during the last ten years--and they have been very numerous
during the present reign--where Herr von Lucanus has not been the
imperial emissary of these evil tidings. This is so well known
in Berlin that the moment the baron is seen to be calling at the
residence of any distinguished statesman who happens to be in office,
it is at once taken for granted that the axe has once more fallen, and
that it is another case of a ministerial downfall.
The Berliners declare that Emperor William pitches upon Lucanus
for these particular jobs in consequence of his being the son of a
Halberstadt druggist, and as such, more likely to be proficient in the
art of sugar-coating the bitter pills than any mere military officer!
He owes his patent of nobility to the late Emperor Frederick, who
entertained a very high opinion of his intelligence, and it is worthy
of note that he first came to the fore in the entourage of the emperor
when Prince Bismarck's power as chancellor commenced to wane. He is
a man of about fifty, and served for a quarter of a century in the
Department of Public Worship. It was, however, as an expert in art
matters, and as an intelligent assistant in the organization of the
Imperial Museum of Science and Art at Berlin, that he first attracted
the notice and good-will of the late emperor, and particularly of the
Empress Frederick.
His military colleague, General Count von Hahnke, although a charming
man, is, nevertheless, one of the most bitterly-hated officers of the
German army; this is due to the fact that he has virtually usurped
the prerogatives and the power of the minister of war, who has been
reduced to a mere instrument of his wishes. This is not altogether the
fault of the general, for the emperor insists on retaining absolute
control of the army in his own hands, and of exercising its command in
every particular, no appointment being made without his initiative
and sanction, while everything is done through Count Hahnke as supreme
head of the military cabinet of his majesty.
A few years ago the general lost his son under singularly tragical and
somewhat mysterious circumstances. The misfortune occurred during
one of the annual yachting trips of the kaiser, young Hahnke being a
lieutenant on board the yacht. According to the official version, the
young officer met with his death while coasting down a mountain road
at one of the Norwegian ports at which the yacht had touched, his
bicycle getting beyond his control, and precipitating itself with its
rider over a low stone parapet into a fierce torrent hundreds of feet
below. The emperor happened at the time to have a bruise on the face,
caused by a block and tackle swinging against him during a squall,
while on deck, and on the strength of this temporary disfigurement,
a story most painful to the emperor was circulated to the effect that
his black eye was due to a blow from young Hahnke, who resented some
indignity in connection with the practical jokes and rough horse-play
so frequent on board the _Hohenzollern_ during the emperor's annual
holiday. It was added that the young officer had been given by
military and naval etiquette the alternative of blowing out his
brains, or of taking his life in some other way, as the only means of
saving his name from disgrace and his honor from loss; and a certain
degree of color was given to the tale by the fact that it was
published at full length in a London society newspaper, at the very
time when its proprietor and editor was sojourning at Marienbad with
the Prince of Wales, and in daily intercourse with the British heir
apparent, who was naturally supposed to know the truth about young
Hahnke's death. Perhaps the most striking and convincing evidence of
the absurd fabrication of this story, which has given much sorrow,
both to the emperor and empress, is to be found in the fact that the
young officer's father remained at the head of the emperor's military
cabinet, and has never abandoned, even temporarily, his service near
the kaiser; this the general would certainly not have done had William
been in any sense of the word responsible for the death of his boy.
In fact it was the kindly and tactful sympathy of both the emperor
and the empress that enabled the bereaved father to bear his loss
with fortitude, and his gratitude for the kindness shown to him by his
sovereign is of a deep and undying quality.