THE PLANNING OF FRIEDRICHSHOF: VISIT TO PARIS
The Empress's relations with her son improved after the fall of
Bismarck. She was particularly touched by the many tributes which he
paid to his father's memory, and she now felt encouraged to try and
build up again the fragments of her tragically broken life.
The Emperor William had placed at his mother's disposal the palace in
Unter den Linden in Berlin where the Emperor and Empress Frederick lived
while they were Crown Prince and Princess, as well as the Charlottenhof
at Potsdam, and the Schloss at Homburg.
Charlottenhof is in the Royal grounds at Potsdam, at some distance from
the New Palace. It was built by Frederick William IV in 1826, in
imitation of a Pompeian villa, and in the grounds are fountains,
statues, and bronzes which were brought from Herculaneum and Pompeii.
As to Homburg, the Empress had always been very fond of the place; she
had often spent part of the summer at the old Schloss, and she valued
its associations with the daughter of another British Sovereign, for the
delightful gardens to which Thackeray refers in _The Four Georges_ were
laid out by the Landgravine Elizabeth, daughter of George III.
When the Empress Frederick decided to build a house after her own heart,
it was to the neighbourhood of Homburg that her thoughts naturally
turned. Perhaps another reason which governed the choice of that
neighbourhood was the fact that the widowed Empress's beloved brother,
King Edward, was so fond of the place, and for many years went there
each year.
Some account of Friedrichshof will be not only interesting but really
necessary for our purpose, for this noble castle and estate at Cronberg
in the Taunus mountains were so entirely the creation of the Empress's
own mind and taste that they throw a strong light on her personality and
character.
Her Majesty was able to build Friedrichshof out of the large sum,
estimated at nearly a quarter of a million, which she had inherited from
an intimate friend, the Duchess of Galliera, within a few months of the
Emperor's death.
In the days when as Crown Princess she was living at the old castle at
Homburg, the Empress had once visited Cronberg.
After the tragic events of 1888 her Majesty longed to have a place of
her own where she could occupy her mind in building and improving. The
Empress remembered the visit to Cronberg, and as the inquiries she
caused to be made as to its climate, soil, and so on, proved
satisfactory, she decided on the purchase without delay. The owner was
one Dr. Steibel, son-in-law of Mr. Reiss, a Manchester manufacturer who
built the short line of railway connecting Frankfort with Cronberg. The
property consisted of a villa and a few acres, but, as some neighbouring
properties were bought up, the estate was enlarged to some 250 acres.
Fortunately the pine forests surrounding the estate were communal
property.
The Empress resolved that Friedrichshof should be primarily a memorial
to her husband, a sort of model _domus regalis_, as was shown by the
pathetic inscription on the porch, "Friderici Memoriæ."
The first thing to do was to make roads, and this, with draining,
building, and planting, occupied fully four years, from 1889 to 1893.
The villa of Dr. Steibel was practically demolished, and in its place
rose a stately mansion in the style of the early sixteenth century.
There are many examples of this style, which marks the period of
transition from Gothic to Renaissance, to be found along the Rhine and
throughout Hesse and Nassau. The schloss itself and the stables, which
are in the style of a Rhenish or Hessian farmhouse, as well as the
out-buildings, were all designed by Herr Ihne, a famous Berlin
architect; but the Empress herself personally superintended the carrying
out of all his plans.
The Empress's first idea was to call the place Friedrichsruh, but it was
pointed out that name might cause confusion with Prince Bismarck's
estate in the north of Prussia. The name Friedrichshof was then
suggested by Princess Victoria, and finally adopted.
The improved relations between the Emperor William and his mother were
exhibited early in 1891. He was desirous of testing the real feeling of
the Paris populace towards Germany, and so with his sanction, possibly
even at his direct request, the Empress Frederick went to Paris.
If her visit had been a success, there is no doubt that the Emperor
would have next proposed to visit Paris himself, as he had long been
keenly desirous of doing. But the memories of the Franco-Prussian War
were more lasting than the Emperor imagined, and his mother's mission,
so far as it was intended to improve Franco-German relations, was a
failure.
It was on February 19, 1891, that the Empress Frederick arrived in
Paris. Her visit, though not technically of an official character, could
not be called _incognito_, as she and her daughter, Princess Margaret,
attended by a considerable suite, stayed at the German Embassy.
The general surprise in Paris was so marked that a _communiqué_ was
issued to the French Press. In this it was pointed out that the Empress,
having consented to accept the position of patroness of an art
exhibition about to be opened in Berlin, had asked some notable French
artists to contribute paintings. A number of these, notably M.
Bouguereau and M. Detaille, had accepted, and she had felt bound to come
to Paris and thank them personally.
It was erroneously said, not only in the French but also in the German
papers, that this was the first visit the Empress had paid to Paris
since the Franco-Prussian War. This was not the case. She had been there
three times, but on the previous occasions she had stayed at the Hotel
Bristol, and had travelled in real _incognito_.
The first three or four days of her stay, whatever the public thought of
the reason assigned for it, passed off well. The Empress visited a
considerable number of studios and picture galleries, and she also made
large purchases in some of the curiosity-shops for which Paris has
always been famous. The German Ambassador gave a dinner party each
evening in honour of his august guest, and many members of the
Diplomatic Corps, notably Lord and Lady Lytton, were asked to meet her.
Meanwhile, the German Press, which had been kept beforehand completely
in the dark as to the visit, was now devoting to it a great deal of not
very kindly attention. It was hinted that the young Emperor wished to
effect a thorough reconciliation with France, and with this idea in view
had asked his mother to _tâter le terrain_. These hints aroused the
susceptibilities of the Boulangist party. Much ill-feeling had been
awakened by the arbitrary suppression of the Ligue des Patriotes, and
long before the Empress's visit a huge protest meeting had been
arranged. The meeting was held, and inflammatory speeches were delivered
in favour of "la Revanche," but no insult of any sort was levelled at
the Imperial visitor. In fact the Empress later testified to the perfect
courtesy which she had received from every class of Frenchman and
Frenchwoman.
It suddenly became known that twice--once alone with the German
ambassador, and then, on another day, attended by a large suite--the
Empress had driven out from Paris to view the ruins of the Palace of
Saint Cloud, believed by the French to have been wantonly destroyed by
the Prussians in 1870. The Empress also visited Versailles and the
neighbouring battlefields.
The news of these excursions aroused very bitter feelings among many
otherwise sober and sensible Parisians, to whom the memories of l'Année
Terrible, and especially of the Prussian occupation of Versailles, were
still painfully vivid. Their indignation was intensified when it became
known that some ill-advised Government official had directed that a
laurel wreath placed at the foot of the monument to Henri Regnault, the
greatest French painter of his generation, who was killed at Buzenval,
in the last desperate sortie from Paris, should be removed on the
occasion of the visit of the Empress to the Ministry of Fine Arts.
This was indeed pouring oil on the fire! It was rumoured that this
special act of tactless stupidity would be the subject of an
interpellation in the Chamber. The depth of feeling aroused is
illustrated by one fact, which did not, however, find its way into the
Press. All those painters who had accepted the Empress's invitation to
exhibit at Berlin received each morning, till their acceptances were
withdrawn, the following _macabre_ visiting-card:
"HENRI REGNAULT,
"69e battalion de marche, 4e campagnie,
"BUZENVAL."
Meanwhile, the less responsible section of the Paris Press had also
added fuel to the flame by such headings as "Insultes aux
Français"--"Visites Impériales à Saint Cloud et à Versailles," &c.
The French Government reluctantly informed the German Ambassador that it
would be advisable that the Empress, who had already prolonged her visit
for several days longer than had at first been arranged, should leave
Paris. On February 26 the following note was sent to the Press: "The
Empress Frederick will leave Paris to-morrow morning for London at 11:30
_via_ Calais." As a matter of fact, the Imperial party left for London
the next day by the ten o'clock express _via_ Boulogne.
But the "incident" was by no means over. The French artists who had
accepted the invitation to exhibit their works at Berlin all withdrew
their acceptances, and as a result the German Press burst forth into
most violent and coarse abuse of France and of the French. Indeed, it
looked at one moment as if nothing could prevent the two nations from
rushing at each other's throats.
The Empress was greatly distressed, and it is on record that she wrote
to her son a long private letter, pointing out that she had been
personally very well received, and indeed most courteously treated,
during her stay in Paris.
It is clear that in France all parties, and even those members of the
Diplomatic Corps who were personally attached to the Empress, regretted,
if they did not blame, her imprudence, for what had finally lighted the
tinder was the expedition to Versailles. With all her love of French Art
and her sympathy with the French "intellectuals"--her great admiration
for Renan was well known--the Empress Frederick had always taken on the
whole what may be called the German view of the French character--that
is, she regarded the French as gay, frivolous, and lacking in ballast
and in the deeper qualities of humanity. If they had been what their
Imperial guest believed them to be, the nation as a whole would have
shrugged its shoulders and diplomatically remained silent, however
_froissée_ it might have been at such lack of tact on the part of a
great personage.
Some months later the Empress spoke of the matter to English friends
with deep regret, but still with a curious lack of understanding. She
even mentioned the subject to the then French Ambassador in London, M.
Waddington, eagerly telling him that she had experienced nothing but
respect and even sympathy during the first part of her visit, and
expressing her astonishment and distress at the feeling her visit to
Versailles and the battlefields round Paris had provoked. She had
brought herself by then to share Queen Victoria's view, namely, that the
whole thing had been a more or less histrionic demonstration against the
French Government.
It showed, however, the Empress's largeness of mind that during this
same visit to England which followed her hasty departure from France she
spoke with the warmest admiration of the verse of Paul Déroulède, the
great chauvinist leader of the Revanche party.
This was the last intervention of the Empress Frederick in public
affairs.
In the following year the Empress had the grief of losing a very old
friend in the person of Lord Arthur Russell. Of these three gifted
brothers, who were at once so alike and so different, she said
pathetically: "The chief charm of the two others to me used to be that
they were Lord Odo's brothers, until I came to know them well and to
appreciate each other for his own sake."
There burst forth, late in the year 1892, a most extraordinary scandal,
in which the Empress Frederick, although the affair was almost
ostentatiously unconnected with her, could not but be deeply interested.
Various members of the Imperial family, as well as members of their
Households, began to be assailed with scurrilous anonymous letters,
which not only contained shrewd and well-aimed abuse of each individual,
but which also revealed all sorts of shameful secrets to those from whom
they had been sedulously hidden. Long-buried family skeletons were
dragged out into the light of day, and no one was spared. Indeed, the
greatest sufferers were those most closely clustered round about the
throne. There was, however, one exception. The widowed Empress was
neither attacked nor even mentioned, and the attempt was evidently made,
by the writer or writers of these extraordinary communications, to
respect, as far as was possible, the feelings and prejudices of the
Emperor's mother.
Nothing was left undone to discover the perpetrators of this most evil
and incomprehensible practical joke, if practical joke it was. At first
it was supposed that the letters emanated from two people, presumed to
be husband and wife, but soon it became clear to thoughtful
investigators, and these comprised all the more intelligent members of
the Berlin Court world, that many more than two or even three persons
must be implicated in the conspiracy. Indeed, the Empress Frederick is
said to have observed to a friend that she felt sure that many of those
who had at first been victims had now become aggressors, and that
practically everybody was taking the opportunity of slinging mud by way
of revenge for real or fancied injuries.
This is not the place to deal with the long and complicated story of
what came to be known as the anonymous letter scandal. No really
satisfactory conclusion was ever attained. Even now German opinion,
notably among those chiefly concerned with the exhaustive investigation
which took place by the Emperor's command, is hopelessly divided. The
affair ended in the imprisonment--unjust as it turned out--of a high
Court official, in a fatal duel, and in many tragi-comedies.