There is no more restless man in all Europe than the kaiser. It is
related of him at the Court of Berlin that when on one occasion he
inquired of his brother, Prince Henry, if he could suggest to him
anything new wherewith to startle both his own subjects and the world
in general, the sailor prince, with a merry laugh, proposed that
his majesty should remain perfectly quiet, without saying or doing
anything, for an entire week! That, he assured his imperial brother,
would amaze and dumbfound the entire universe more than anything else
that could possibly be conceived.
While this lack of repose on the part of William is the source of a
good deal of fun both at home and abroad, there is no doubt that it
has had the effect of strengthening the monarchial system in Prussia
to a far greater degree than in any previous reign. It is not that
the kaiser is more popular than his predecessors on the throne. On
the contrary, it may be doubted whether he holds the same place in the
affections of the German people as did his father and grandfather. But
while it is possible to imagine a Prussia without either of them, it
is difficult to picture to oneself a Germany without William! It seems
as if he were indispensable to the existence of the nation, and that
if anything untoward were to happen to him, everything in Germany
would suddenly stop working, precisely as if the mainspring of a watch
were to break. He conveys the impression of being the source from
which proceeds every action, every phase of activity and every
enterprise, no matter what its character. To such an extent is this
the case, that practically nothing seems to be done throughout the
length and breadth of his dominions without his influence in the
matter being both felt and apparent. There is nothing so trivial that
it does not interest him. He will turn from the greatest and most
important matters of state to the most petty question concerning
court etiquette or domestic mismanagement, and will not hesitate to
interrupt an interview with the chancellor of the empire, or with some
foreign ambassador, to spank one of his youngsters if he happens to
have been misbehaving himself!
He keeps absolute personal control over the army, the navy, the state
administration, and his court, and yet finds time to supervise his
children's lessons and amusements. He attends even to the pulling out
of the milk teeth of his little ones and permits no one else to do it,
as the following little anecdote, concerning Prince Oscar, his fifth
son, will illustrate.
The boys had, and I believe still have, an English governess, who is
very strict and independent with them, and who just on that account,
probably, is highly esteemed and liked by her young pupils, as well as
by their parents. On the occasion of her last anniversary, the empress
with her usual kindness prepared a pretty birthday table for her,
decked out with all kinds of presents from the imperial couple, and
from each of the children. Prince Oscar's gift, which he had carefully
done up himself in ribbons and tinted paper, and inscribed with his
name, turned out to be a small and empty cardboard box. On being taken
to task by his mother as to what he meant by this, he informed her
that the box was destined to hold the first tooth, which he was about
to lose, and which his father, the emperor, was to pull for him with
a string that very afternoon, at the conclusion of a "Kronrath," or
council of the crown, at which his majesty was to preside. The little
prince regarding that tooth as the greatest treasure at his disposal,
was convinced that he could bestow upon his governess no more
acceptable gift. She now wears it in a gold bangle presented to her by
the empress.
Among other domestic affairs which have occupied the kaiser's
attention, has been the tendency of his boys to dyspepsia and
digestive troubles, owing to their habit of eating too rapidly, a
fault which they have certainly inherited from their father, for he
has subjected them to the same process that was adopted in his case
when a child, to make him eat slowly; to wit, whenever apples or pears
are given to the boys they are not permitted to get them whole, and to
munch them, like any ordinary boy, but only to receive them cut into
quarters, each bit being wrapped in a number of pieces of tissue
paper, the unfolding of which requires time, thus preventing the young
princes from eating too fast! The kaiser often alludes to the fact
that he was subjected to the same formalities and will add:
"You see nothing was made easy for me in my youth. Even the matter of
eating an apple was rendered as difficult for me as possible!"
The kaiser is followed wherever he goes by an extremely clever
stenographer, Dr. Weiss, who was formerly official shorthand writer to
the imperial parliament. He now forms part of the emperor's household,
and accompanies his majesty on all his numerous travels. It is the
doctor's duty to place on record and preserve all the pearls that drop
from the imperial lips, or perhaps, to put it more correctly, to give
the emperor and his advisers an opportunity of editing and revising
his public utterances before they find their way into print. Dr.
Weiss has several assistants who help him in the transcription of his
shorthand notes, and none of the emperor's public speeches or casual
remarks find their way into print nowadays except through Dr. Weiss.
Thanks to the tact of this precious secretary, there exists, very
often, a considerable diversity between what the emperor says, and
what he is represented as having said, and it is in consequence of
this wise provision that the imperial speeches appear to have become
so much more discreet, and at the same time less sensational, than was
the case during the early part of his reign.
Quick-tempered, passionate, generous-hearted, and extremely impulsive,
the emperor, often speaking on the spur of the moment, frequently
said more than he intended to say, and thus laid himself open to both
domestic and foreign criticism and abuse. He has not yet outgrown this
fault, although he has become much more cautious than formerly, and
moreover, with Dr. Weiss at his elbow, and with the care that is
observed by the authorities to let none of the imperial utterances
reach the public in print, save through Dr. Weiss, after being duly
edited by him, most of the former perils have been averted. The
emperor is very particular, indeed, about having Dr. Weiss by his
side, and frequently at public functions himself directs the doctor
where to stand and where to sit, so that he may not lose a word of
what his imperial master says.
Like the aged pontiff at Rome, William manifests a great predilection
for the telephone. There are telephonic instruments in his library,
in his workroom, and even in his bed-chamber, and quite a considerable
portion of the day is spent talking over the wires to his ministers,
government officials, relatives, courtiers or mere friends. He
seems to find the same pleasure in calling up the various government
departments that he does in alarming the various garrisons at night
time, being evidently under the impression that by so doing he keeps
the officials strictly attentive to their duties, and convinced that
if not the eye, at any rate the ear of the emperor is on the _qui
vive!_ Nor are the government offices safe from being rung up by his
majesty over the wires even at night time. For the past two or three
years he has insisted that at the ministry of foreign affairs, at the
ministry of the interior, and at the war and naval departments, at
least one of the divisional chiefs and half a dozen clerks should be
kept on duty all night long, in order to attend to any business or
to communicate to him without delay anything that they may regard as
needing his immediate attention.
Berlin is the only capital where the principal government offices
are thus kept open for official business all night long, and
the circumstance serves to furnish another illustration of the
extraordinary activity, energy, and impatience of delay that
distinguish the emperor, who wants everything done right away, without
a moment's waiting!
Emperor William gives the telephone companies at Berlin and at Potsdam
far more trouble than any other of their subscribers, for when he
telephones to any of the government departments, or to dignitaries or
officials of high rank, the operators at the central office are under
the strictest orders to abstain from listening to the conversation,
and are forced to rise from their seats and remove to a distance from
the wires. Anyone caught disobeying in this particular is subject not
only to dismissal, but to serious unpleasantness on the part of the
police.
When the emperor rings up anybody, he does not announce his identity,
taking it for granted that the tones of his voice are sufficiently
well known to reveal it. It has been noted, moreover, that he
commences all his conversations over the wire with the pronoun "I,"
while the verb "command," either in the past or in the present tense,
almost invariably follows. This is quite sufficient to show who is
talking.
William is the first sovereign of his line to accept the hospitality
of his subjects. Prior to his advent to the throne, such a thing as
the monarch attending any private entertainment or dinner given by one
of his lieges was altogether unknown. Neither King Frederick-William
III., King Frederick-William IV., nor old Emperor William, whose
reigns extended over nearly ninety years of the nineteenth century,
ever once honored any member of the nobility, no matter how high in
rank, with their presence for a single evening or night, except
during the course of the annual manoeuvres, when the monarch, as
commander-in-chief of the army, was quartered in some château, much
in the same manner as the officers of minor rank and the soldiers.
Emperor William, however, following the example of his British
relatives, and greatly to the dismay of all the old-fashioned
authorities on the etiquette of the Court of Berlin, has adopted
the practice of inviting himself out to dinner in town, and to
shooting-parties in the country, in a manner that is absolutely
startling, even to his English relatives; for whereas the latter never
dine out anywhere, unless the list of guests invited to meet them is
previously submitted to them for consideration and revision, in
order to avoid being brought into contact with people that are not
congenial, the kaiser, on the other hand, when he hears that a dinner
is about to be given by one of his friends or followers, frequently
invites himself either at the last moment, an hour or two before the
time fixed for the meal, or else arrives unannounced and uninvited,
knowing full well that he will always be welcome, since his coming
can only be regarded as a particular mark of imperial regard and favor
toward the giver of the entertainment.
Thus, while Count Shuvaloff was still Russian ambassador at Berlin,
the emperor was in the habit of dropping in unannounced about luncheon
time, and of sitting down with the count and countess, the latter
being as often as not in the négligée of a mere tea-gown, and more
than once when he had sat with them longer than he intended, and found
that there was no time left to return to the palace before proceeding
to the railroad station to take his departure for Potsdam or some
other place, he would ask leave of the count to use his telephone,
ring up the empress, and not only bid her adieu, but also dispatch her
a kiss over the wires, in the most charmingly domestic fashion.
William prides himself in no small degree on his descent through Queen
Victoria in an unbroken line from the Biblical King David, and claims
that he, therefore, belongs to the same family as the founder of
Christianity. Hanging in a conspicuous position in his workroom in the
"Neues-Palais" at Potsdam, is a copy of the royal family tree, showing
the name of King David engrossed at the root of it, with that of
Emperor William at the top. According to this tree, the reigning house
of England is descended from King David through the eldest daughter
of Zedekiah, who, with her sister, fled to Ireland in charge of the
prophet Jeremiah,--then an old man,--to be married to Heremon, the
king of Ulster of the period.
Curiously enough, a Mr. Glover, a clergyman of the Church of England,
who had devoted the greater portion of his life to the study of
genealogy, wrote to Queen Victoria a letter in 1869, informing her
that he had discovered her to be descended in an unbroken line from
King David. Her majesty sent for him to come to Windsor, and to his
astonishment informed him that what he thought he had been the first
to discover had been known to herself and to the prince consort for
many years.
Naturally, William, with his religious ideas, has always been deeply
interested in this family tree, and soon after his accession to the
throne requested his grandmother to let him have a copy thereof, which
was sent to him most handsomely engrossed and magnificently framed.
Its contemplation has, of course, tended to increase his belief in the
divine origin of his authority, since, if he does not, like the old
kings of France, describe himself as "first cousin of the Almighty,"
he can at any rate claim to be a near kinsman of the founder of
Christianity.
Notwithstanding all the emperor's manifest desire to render himself
agreeable to the French, and his evident eagerness to assuage by
gracious and chivalrous courtesy the bitterness resulting from the
war of 1870 and the annexation of Alsace-Lorraine, he has absolutely
declined since he ascended the throne to permit France's national
hymn, "The Marseillaise," to be played at his court, at any of the
imperial and royal theatres, or by any German military or naval band.
When he entertains the French ambassador at dinner or receives him in
state and wishes to pay him musical honors, he causes the old "March
of St. Denis," in use at Versailles prior to the great revolution,
which is in every sense of the word a Bourbon hymn, to be played.
The ambassador who now represents France is the Marquis de Noailles, a
scion of one of the oldest ducal houses of the French nobility, whose
origin dates back to the crusades. This being the case, the envoy
naturally offers no objection to the attitude of the emperor with
regard to the "Marseillaise."
The kaiser, after all, acts in the matter with a far greater degree of
logic and reason than any of his fellow-sovereigns, for the strains
of the "Marseillaise" are familiar in the palace of the czar at St.
Petersburg, at Windsor Castle, in the royal palace of Madrid, in
the imperial Hofburg at Vienna, and even at the Vatican, and it is
difficult to conceive anything more paradoxical than a royal band
of music playing for the delectation of royal and imperial ears a
national hymn, the words of which passionately call upon the people
to rise up and to put to death all kings and emperors, queens and
empresses, denounced as bloodthirsty tyrants.
Emperor William, even before his accession to the throne, manifested
such a pronounced hostility towards the practice of gambling at cards,
which is one of the curses of the corps of officers of the German
army, that a very widespread impression prevails to the effect that he
objects to card games in any shape or form. This is a mistake. It is
the gambling and not the game itself to which the kaiser is opposed.
In fact, he is very fond of a game of cards, provided the stakes are
merely nominal, and I have known him to play an entire evening after
a dinner at the castle of Kuckelna, which marked the close of a great
pheasant "drive" organized in his honor by Prince Lichnòwski. The game
which the emperor played was the German one called _Skat_, and the
point was a German penny. The emperor was the principal loser, having
had poor hands dealt to him throughout the entire game, and when he
arose from the table he was out of pocket exactly six cents. In thus
limiting the stakes to a merely nominal amount he has followed the
example of his old friend and adviser, the veteran King of Saxony, who
is accustomed to play every night his game of _skat_ after dinner, his
stakes, like those of the kaiser, never exceeding one penny.
I have often wished that I could see the face of the kaiser's uncle,
the Prince of Wales, were such truly regal stakes as these proposed to
him. His ordinary points and stakes are any sum from five guineas to
fifty, and even a hundred, and the only time that I can recollect his
having played for less than a guinea was at Hughenden when on a visit
to the Earl of Beaconsfield. Bernal Osborne, father of the Duchess of
St. Albans, was one of the party when the prince proposed a game of
whist at five-guinea points. Lord Beaconsfield was a poor man, obliged
to count every penny, and Bernal Osborne caught sight of the manner
in which his face fell when the proposal was made. Grasping the
situation, and remembering that Lord Beaconsfield had but a few weeks
previously added the imperial crown of India to the British regalia,
by causing Queen Victoria to be proclaimed Empress of India, he turned
to the prince and remarked:
"Would it not be more appropriate, sir, to play for crown stakes?" The
prince grasped the situation at once, made a flattering reference to
the old premier, and the points played for were, as suggested, five
shillings instead of five guineas!
Apropos of this question of cards, William has done everything in
his power to check gambling, especially among the army officers, and
before succeeding to the throne, while still only Prince of Prussia,
he actually went to the length of issuing a stringent order to the
officers of the Hussar regiment, of which he was colonel, forbidding
them to cross the threshold of the Union Club, on account of the
high play for which that institution was notorious. The club deeply
resented being thus placed under a ban, and sent its president, the
late Duke of Ratibor, to the aged emperor to entreat him to rescind
his grandson's order, on the ground that it was a reflection upon the
most aristocratic and exclusive club of all Germany, besides being
unjust to the officers of the regiment, some of whom were among the
most brilliant and popular members of that institution. Old Emperor
William, after inquiring whether Prince William had really issued such
an order, shook his head rather seriously for a few minutes, and then
told the duke that he would see what he could do, but that knowing his
grandson well, he feared that there would be a good deal of difficulty
about the matter. On the following morning, when young Prince William
came to pay his daily visit to his grandfather, the latter broached
the subject to him with the utmost caution, and with manifest
expectation of encountering a refusal. Nor was he disappointed. For no
sooner had he mentioned the matter than the young prince declared in
the most positive manner that nothing would induce him to rescind his
order, and that rather than give way, he would resign command of the
regiment, arguing that in such a matter especially he could brook no
interference. The old emperor admitted in a rather shame-faced
way that his grandson was in the right, excused himself for having
mentioned the matter, did all that he could to soothe what he believed
to be the ruffled feelings of the prince, and on the following day
told the Duke of Ratibor that he was very sorry, but that, in spite
of all his efforts, he had been unable to accomplish anything with his
grandson in the way desired.
Immediately after he came to the throne he requested the resignation
of a number of officers, some of them bearing the greatest names
in the empire, for instance, the late Prince Fürstenberg and Prince
George Radziwill, for no other reason than their fondness for
cards, and in consequence of the large sums of money which they were
accustomed to stake. All the princes and nobles thus forced to leave
the army also quitted Berlin, in token of their disapproval of an
emperor who took upon himself to interfere with what they were pleased
to regard as their private amusements, and there is no doubt that for
a time the brilliancy of the Berlin Court and the prosperity of
trade in the Prussian capital suffered through the closing of so many
princely palaces and grand houses.
It is strange that in spite of all that the emperor has done to
stop gambling, the play has been higher, and the card-scandals more
frequent since he became emperor than during any previous reign, with
the exception of that of his grand-uncle, King Frederick-William IV.
The latter's crusade against gambling culminated in the tragic death
of his chief of police, and most intimate friend and crony, Baron
von Hinkelday, whose spectre he was wont to see before him during
his moments of temporary dementia, previous to his becoming entirely
insane.
Emperor William's reign has been saddened much in the same way
through the suicide of his young cousin, Prince Alfred of Coburg; the
self-destruction of the young prince, who had been placed under the
immediate care and guardianship of his majesty, having been due, as
I have intimated, to enormous losses at the card tables of Berlin and
Potsdam. In spite of all the well-meant efforts of the kaiser, and
notwithstanding all his threats and disciplinary measures, gambling
is more rampant to-day among the officers of the German army, and
overwhelming a greater number of illustrious names with ruin and
disgrace than ever before.
With all his keen sense of dignity, his shortness of temper, and his
impulsiveness, the emperor is nevertheless more easily diverted from
anger to good humor by means of a piece of wit than most of his fellow
sovereigns. Some time ago, when old Baron Boetticher, secretary of
state for the interior, was discussing with his majesty the most
suitable nominations to be made in the case of a number of vacant
offices, the latter became greatly irritated by the old statesman's
unanswerable objections to the candidate for whom he himself desired
to obtain a certain post, his anger grew quite violent, and when the
baron inquired if there were no other person upon whom he would like
to confer the appointment, William replied, curtly, "Oh, confer it on
the devil if you like!"
"Very well," replied the old minister, with a twinkle in his eye,
but in his most suave and courtly manner, and with a most unruffled
demeanor: "And shall I allow the patent signed by your majesty in
that case to go out in the usual form, 'To my trusted and well-beloved
cousin and counsellor?'"
The kaiser saw the joke at once, burst into a loud peal of laughter,
his ill-temper having vanished in a moment.
Another amusing incident in which the devil was called upon to play a
part occurred on the occasion of the emperor's inspection of a number
of newly-joined recruits for the first regiment of Foot Guards. In
accordance with his invariable custom, he was examining-them as to
what they would do in this or that emergency. Addressing one burly
Pomeranian grenadier, he inquired what he would say to a man who
annoyed him while on sentry duty.
"Go to the devil! Get out! your majesty," responded the man.
"All right, my friend," exclaimed the emperor, laughing, "I'll get
out; but I'll be hanged if I'll go to the devil," and with that he
turned to the next man.
Military inspections very often furnish the occasion for amusing
and sometimes rather disconcerting episodes. I can recall as an
illustration an inspection of recruits for the navy at Kiel. On that
day the emperor had been holding forth, as he so often does, about the
duty of sailors as well as soldiers to defend the crown against
the foes beyond the frontiers of the empire, as well as against the
enemies within the boundaries of the latter. He then singled out a
stolid-looking recruit, and having ascertained that he was the son
of a Bavarian farmer, with a strongly developed taste for the sea, he
proceeded to question him with regard to the address which he had just
delivered.
"And who are our foreign foes, my good fellow?" he inquired.
"The Russians and the French, your majesty," replied the recruit.
"And who are the enemies within the empire?" proceeded the emperor,
expecting of course that the sailor would say that they were the
socialists.
"The Prussians, your majesty," answered the Jack-tar that was to
be, without apparently realizing that he had said anything wrong or
impolite, and merely giving a frank utterance to the sentiment in
which he, like all his countrymen in Bavaria, had been brought up.
One of the most pleasing features about Emperor William is his
readiness to forgive and forget, and his inability to bear a grudge
for any length of time against those who have either insulted or
injured him. No more striking instance of this can be given than his
treatment of General Baron von Krosick, who expected to be dismissed
from the army, possibly even banished, when William ascended the
throne, but who instead has been overwhelmed by his sovereign with
every conceivable honor, having received not merely his promotion
from the rank of brigadier-general to that of inspector-general of the
army, but also investiture with the exceedingly rare distinction of
the Order of the Black Eagle, which, as I have already stated before,
is the Prussian equivalent to the English Order of the Garter, and
the Austrian Order of the Golden Fleece. The baron enjoys the
well-deserved reputation of being the most phenomenally rude and
rough-spoken man in the German army, and was at one time colonel in
command of the hussar regiment in which William, prior to becoming
emperor, received his cavalry training.
On one occasion an almost incredible scene took place. It was at
a regimental mess banquet, to which William, at that time only a
captain, had invited Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria, then on a visit
at Berlin. During the course of the dinner, the conversation turned
upon some projected reforms in cavalry drill and movements, which
ultimately turned out to be impracticable and were not carried into
effect. William, in his impulsive, impetuous, and somewhat arrogant
way, declaimed in a loud tone of voice on their superlative merits,
declared himself in their favor, and added that he would do his utmost
to see them carried through, as he regarded them as indispensable to
raise the standard and tone of the German cavalry.
Colonel von Krosick, like the remainder of the officers, had drunk his
fair share of wine. He never liked his royal subaltern, and took
no pains to conceal his sentiments. The arrogance of the prince's
utterances, as well as his assumption of superiority, exasperated him
beyond measure, and, breaking into the conversation, he exclaimed in
tones that were heard throughout the apartment:
"_Aber das ist ja der blödste Unsinn_ [But that is the most ridiculous
nonsense];" and then proceeded to contemptuously ridicule William's
arguments.
Much nettled, and quite as short-tempered as his colonel, William
called out, half jokingly, half bitterly:
"That is all very well, colonel. You are my superior officer at
present, and I am bound to defer to your opinion. But our positions
may change one of these days, and then you will see."
Perfectly frantic and purple in the face, Colonel von Krosick
thundered forth:
"When that day comes to pass, prince, I will rather break my sabre
across my knee than serve under your command."
Immediately the whole place was in an uproar. The Austrian crown
prince being the first to jump from his seat, and a minute later both
princes had left the mess-room and the barracks. Contrary to general
expectation, Prince William made no report about the matter, either to
his father or grandfather, and Colonel von Krosick heard nothing more
about the affair.
Of course he expected to receive his discharge when William ascended
the throne. But to his amazement, he has ever since been made the
object of the most signal favor, kindliness and respect: the respect
that is frequently entertained by a man after he has grown up toward
the head master who caned him when he was at school. Indeed, William
seems never to be able to forget that he was for several years under
the old martinet's direct command.
In spite of Emperor William being at the present moment over forty
years of age, he still retains a great store of boyishness, and in
particular, a liking for practical jokes, though never when they are
at his own expense! It is not so very long ago that he had notified
a number of generals and military dignitaries to meet him at the
railroad station at Potsdam, at half-past eleven in the evening, in
order to accompany him to manoeuvres that were to be held at a place
several hours' distance on the following day. Leaving the palace on
foot shortly after eleven, he entered the railroad station by a back
door, and managed to slip in without being recognized.
Shielded by the darkness, he made his way unobserved to the special
train, which was in waiting, got into his carriage by the door on the
opposite side from the platform. For at least half an hour he amused
himself by peeping at the officers on the platform, whose faces
expressed surprise and vexation that his majesty, ordinarily so
punctual, should be so long in coming. Suddenly he raised the blind,
opened the window, and intimated by loud and prolonged laughter his
presence in the carriage, and the success of his little trick. The
astonishment and the dismay depicted on the visages of those on the
platform can be more easily imagined than described.
Emperor William is not fond of the press, and has never taken any
trouble to conceal his dislike for that branch of the literary
profession. It is true that he has been subjected to a good deal of
abuse at its hands, and that he has been made the object of calumny
sufficient to drive a man so hypersensitive to public comment into a
lunatic asylum. Many of the most intricate troubles and most annoying
episodes of his life and his reign have been in a large measure due to
the press, inasmuch as they were either originated or envenomed by the
newspapers. William is as nervous about what the papers will say as a
young débutante on the stage. Not only does he keep an anxious watch
upon the utterances of all German editors, but he ordains a vigilant
scrutiny of the articles printed in foreign countries from the pens of
correspondents stationed in Berlin, who, if any unfriendly mention
of his name is brought home to them, are ultimately driven out of the
country.
One of the first acts of Emperor William's reign was the expulsion
from Berlin of a number of foreign journalists, whose criticisms
and comments on his attitude towards his mother, as well as on
his opposition to the political views of his dead father, had been
distasteful to the imperial eye. A year later he caused a new series
of press laws to be presented to the Reichstag, which contained such
arbitrary provisions for stamping out the remaining liberties of
the press that even the _Cologne Gazette_ denounced it as "putting
a frightful weapon into the hands of the government for suppressing
freedom of speech and silencing opposition." This measure did not
pass, in spite of all the efforts of his majesty, and its rejection
merely served to embitter the emperor still further against the press.
As far as the German press is concerned William manages to get even
with it by insisting upon the strict execution of the laws concerning
the crime of _Lése majesté_ with a severity that savors of the
middle ages rather than of modern times. Indeed, while there are few
prominent journalists in Germany who have not undergone imprisonment
since he ascended the throne, for writing of him in a manner that he
considered disrespectful, there are some newspapers that are literally
obliged to employ distinguished members of their staff for no other
purpose than doing time in jail, as the penalty of too free utterances
of the sheet with which they are connected.
Of course, William has no such means of dealing with the foreign
press, which being more fearless, thanks to its immunity, has
naturally subjected him to worse treatment than that of Germany.
Occasionally though, he gets even with some of his foreign assailants,
and the following story is told of the manner in which he dealt with
a newspaper proprietor in New York, who after rendering his journal
conspicuous above all others for its personal attacks on his majesty,
had the audacity to write him a letter, asking him for a brief article
from his, the kaiser's, pen.
The editor in question gave as a pretext for his request, the alleged
existence of a widespread belief in the United States that his majesty
was not quite right in his mind, and suggested that a brief message,
for which a check of five thousand dollars was enclosed, might relieve
the anxiety of millions of Germans in America, and convince them that
the kaiser was quite sane. Some weeks later the enterprising editor
received a visit from the German consul-general in New York. On being
admitted to the august presence of the editor the consul-general
extracted an envelope from his pocket, and from the envelope the
five-thousand-dollar check, to the order of his majesty, the German
emperor, and bearing the signature of the editor; the consul-general
then made a bow to the latter, handed him the check, made another bow,
and withdrew without having said a single word, or opened his mouth,
even to greet him!