Army Anecdotes
Innumerable anecdotes are told of the personal relations between the
Emperor William and his soldiers, a few of which may be given as helping
to throw light on the portrait of this great yet kindly sovereign.
After the battle of Mars-la-Tour, the country all about was strewn with
dead and wounded soldiers. It was only with the greatest difficulty that
a small room was found for the King’s use, containing a bed, a table,
and a chair. As he entered it he asked:
“Where are Bismarck and Moltke lodged?”
“Nowhere as yet,” replied the adjutant, well knowing how needful rest
was to them also.
“Then ask them to come and camp here with me,” said the King. “You may
take away the bed—it will be needed by the wounded—and have some straw
and blankets brought here; they will do very well for us.”
And so it chanced that the three old comrades spent a rainy night
together on the straw; nor was it the only time during this hard and
cruel war.
* * * * * * * *
The day after the victory of Gravelotte, as King William was returning
to Pont-à-Mousson, he passed through the village of Gorze. The
Commander-in-chief was greeted everywhere with the wildest enthusiasm,
even by the wounded, with whom the little town was filled. Among the
latter was Captain von Zedtwitz. He was lodged with an old soldier
Antoine, who had lost a leg at Magenta and who with his little daughter
nursed and cared for the desperately wounded officer as well as he was
able. When the captain heard the shouts outside, and learned that King
William was passing through Gorze, he insisted on sending a greeting to
his sovereign likewise. He asked one of the musicians to deliver to the
Commander-in-chief a pure white rose with the message: “A wounded
officer who can scarcely live through another day, sends this rose to
Your Majesty, in memory of Gravelotte!” The King bade his coachman stop.
Deeply moved, he took the rose and fastened it in his buttonhole. Then,
after asking the name of the thoughtful donor and sending his hearty
thanks with wishes for a speedy recovery, went on his way. After a long
and tedious illness the captain finally recovered, but was no longer fit
for active service. In recognition of his services to the Fatherland he
was given the position of district commander in Halberstadt. He had long
since forgotten the rose of Gorze, but the Emperor had a good memory
where his faithful soldiers were concerned, as Captain von Zedtwitz was
to discover. On Christmas Day, 1871, he received a box containing a
magnificent oil painting depicting a monument on which were inscribed
the words “Gorze, August 19, 1870.” A German flag half covered the
monument, at the foot of which was an infantry helmet decorated with an
Iron Cross and encircled by a laurel leaf. At the top of the heavy gold
frame gleamed a massive silver rose. Accompanying this gift was the
following note in the Emperor’s own handwriting:
“In grateful remembrance of that never-to-be-forgotten day in Gorze
when you, desperately wounded, sent me a rose from your couch of pain
as I, unknowing, was passing by. May the accompanying picture serve as
a lasting token of your devotion to your sovereign and his gratitude
to you. Christmas, 1871.
“William I. R.
“December 22, 1871.”
* * * * * * * *
After the battle of Sedan the King’s headquarters were at Clermont, with
a regiment of Bavarian cavalry in guard. The men had had a long, hard
march in the rain that day, and their commanding officer, feeling ill,
despatched his orderly in search of some wine. It was forbidden to ask
for supplies at headquarters, so the colonel gave him a thaler and
charged him to buy it somewhere. On reaching the marketplace the trooper
discovered a large tavern, before the door of which stood two Prussian
staff orderlies who, as he approached, motioned him to pass on. With the
thaler in his hand, however, the Bavarian felt himself as good as any
one, so he marched boldly up to the door of the inn and knocked loudly.
For some time there was no response, but at length it was opened by an
elderly officer, who asked him what he wanted.
“My colonel is sick and must have a flask of wine,” replied the orderly.
“In just a moment, my son!” said the old man with a kindly smile, and
disappeared within the house, but soon returned with a flask which he
handed to the other, saying, “Here is what your colonel needs. I hope it
will do him good.”
The Bavarian took the wine in his left hand, still grasping the thaler
in his right. What should he do? He was not allowed to accept anything
without paying for it, neither could he offer money to an officer. At
length the old man, perceiving his embarrassment, inquired whether his
colonel had given him any other commission. Whereupon the honest fellow
explained his difficulty, at the same time attempting to thrust the
thaler into the old man’s hand. But the latter only waved him away,
saying:
“Never mind that, my good man, but hurry back to your colonel with the
wine, and say the King of Prussia sends it to him with wishes for a
speedy recovery.”
“The King of Prussia!” repeated the Bavarian in bewilderment. “Where is
the King of Prussia, then?”
“I am he,” replied the old man, and shut the door.
The colonel was anxiously waiting his orderly’s return, but looked very
grave when he laid the thaler on the table beside the flask.
“You fool!” he cried angrily, “did I not tell you not to make any
requisition?”
“But I did not, sir,” replied the fellow with a grin. “There was an old
man at the tavern who said he was the King of Prussia; he gave me the
flask and wished you a quick recovery.”
“What is that!” cried the colonel in great excitement. “From the King of
Prussia, did you say?” and he gazed with astonishment at the good
monarch’s gift. With awe he lifted the first glass to his thirsty lips,
thinking to himself, “This is from the King of Prussia,” but as the last
drop disappeared he shouted aloud in a burst of enthusiasm, “Long live
King William!”
* * * * * * * *
One day during the siege of Paris, as the King was visiting the
outposts, he discovered a fusileer deeply absorbed in a letter, his
weapon on the ground at his feet and apparently quite oblivious to his
duties. Roused by the sound of hoofs and recognizing his
commander-in-chief, he hastily dropped the letter, took up his gun, and
presented arms. The King rode up to him and said, smiling:
“A letter from the sweetheart at home, no doubt, my son!”
“No, sire,” replied the terrified soldier; “it is from my mother.”
Somewhat doubtful of the truth of these words, the King looked sternly
at him and asked to see it.
“Certainly, Your Majesty,” replied the soldier, and quickly picking up
the letter he handed it to his chief. The King read it through, glanced
kindly at the fusileer, and told his adjutant to take the man’s name,
then rode on. The letter _was_ from the man’s mother, telling of his
sister’s approaching marriage and the sorrow of all there that he could
not be present.
The next day the fusileer was ordered to appear before his captain, and
he obeyed the summons with an anxious heart, thinking to himself, “Now I
am undone! This means at least eight days’ arrest for neglect of duty.”
Great was his surprise, therefore, when the captain informed him that by
the King’s orders he had been granted fourteen days’ leave to attend his
sister’s wedding, and that free transportation there and back would be
furnished him. The overjoyed soldier was soon on the train bound for his
distant home, where a joyous welcome waited his unexpected arrival. When
the wedding guests heard the story of the letter, they all clinked
glasses joyfully and drank to the King’s health with a rousing cheer.
* * * * * * * *
A grenadier of the First Regiment of Guards was also one of the
gardeners at Babelsberg. The Emperor arriving there unexpectedly one
day, this man was sent to accompany him about the park to point out the
various improvements. The Emperor was much pleased with his intelligent
conversation, but presently noticed that he began to be very uneasy and
even looked at the time, which was not considered proper in the presence
of the sovereign.
“What is the matter, young man?” he asked.
“Well, Your Majesty,” replied the other, “this is my first year of
volunteer service, in the First Regiment of Guards, and my captain is
very strict. I am due at the barracks in three-quarters of an hour, and
it is impossible for me to get there now except with the utmost haste. I
shall be late unless Your Majesty will be so gracious as to release me.”
Much pleased with his gardener’s punctuality, the Emperor sent him to
don his uniform with all speed and ordered his carriage to be brought
around immediately. Then motioning to the grenadier to take the seat
beside him, they set off for the town with a gallop. The company was
already in line as the carriage drew up at the barracks, but the Emperor
spoke to the captain in person, explaining that it was his fault that
the man was late and asking that he should not be punished.
* * * * * * * *
Still another instance of King William’s unfailing kindness and
consideration to all classes is shown in the following incident. At a
grand review held on the field of Tempelhof, the Emperor’s sharp eyes
suddenly discovered a sergeant-major who could scarcely stand upright
and whose deathly pallor betrayed either serious illness or some violent
emotion. He rode up at once to the man and asked what ailed him.
“It is nothing, Your Majesty, I am better already,” was the answer; but
the tears in the eyes of the bearded soldier belied his words. The
Emperor’s gaze rested on his pale face with fatherly kindness and he
said encouragingly,
“Do not try to conceal anything from me, sergeant; you too wear the Iron
Cross, so we are brothers in arms, and comrades should have no secrets
from each other.”
Unable to resist this exhortation, the sergeant responded,
“Alas, Your Majesty, just now as we were marching out here, my only
child, a promising boy of six, was run over by a wagon, and I do not
know what has become of him.”
The Emperor immediately sent an adjutant to appropriate one of the
near-by conveyances occupied by spectators for the use of the sergeant,
whom he excused for the rest of the day, and the anxious father with
tears of gratitude in his eyes hastened home to his family.
* * * * * * * *
A touching trait of the Emperor’s character is shown in his habit of
making the rounds of the hospitals in time of war to assure himself
personally that his wounded subjects were receiving the necessary care,
and cheer them with a kindly word of encouragement or some slight gift.
In the bloody year of 1866 the Woman’s Aid Society built a private
hospital in Berlin, which King William frequently honored with his
presence. Among the patients was a musketeer who had lost his left arm.
“Your Majesty,” said this man one day to the King, “I am twenty-four
years old to-day. To have had the happiness of seeing the King on my
birthday—I shall never forget it, sire!”
“Nor shall I, my brave fellow,” replied the King, giving his hand to the
soldier, who kissed it with deep emotion. The King passed on from bed to
bed, but just as he was about to leave he said to his suite, “I must see
that man again whose birthday it is,” and returning to the musketeer’s
cot he talked with him for some time. That night, after the invalid was
asleep and dreaming of his sovereign, one of the royal huntsmen appeared
with a gold watch and chain, sent by the King as a remembrance of the
day. The lucky man was often asked where he got this fine watch.
“Guess!” he would always say, and after the inquisitive questioner had
tried in vain to solve the riddle, he would shout with a beaming face:
“It is from my King, my good King William!”
* * * * * * * *
Once while the King was visiting the hospital at Versailles with the
Crown Prince and several of his generals, they came to the cot of a
Silesian militiaman who had had his right leg amputated and been shot in
the right shoulder also. When asked what his injuries were, he replied:
“I have lost my right leg, Your Majesty, which troubles me much, for now
I shall not be able to go on to Paris with the rest of the army. And
besides that the churls have shot me here in the shoulder.”
Every one laughed, and the King said: “Cheer up, my son! You shall have
a new leg and enter Paris with us yet.”
“That may be, sire,” declared the simple-hearted Silesian, “but I can
never win the Iron Cross now.”
Again there was a laugh; but the Crown Prince laid his hand on the brave
fellow’s head, saying,
“You shall have that too, my man,” and the King quietly nodded assent
and passed on, his eyes moist with tears.
* * * * * * * *
On another cot at this same hospital lay a pale young infantryman. The
physician had given him a sleeping potion which had brought temporary
forgetfulness of his sufferings. As the Emperor stood quietly looking
down at him, his eye fell on an album which the invalid had evidently
been reading when sleep overtook him. He picked it up and wrote in
pencil on one of the pages, “My son, always remember your King,” then
laid it back on the bed and passed on. When the wounded man awoke and
found his sovereign’s greeting, tears of joy streamed down his cheeks
and he pressed the precious writing to his lips, sobbing. On the
Emperor’s next visit he saw, by the deathly pallor of the wounded
infantryman, that death was near and the poor fellow was past all aid or
comfort. But the soul had not yet left the body, a gleam of
consciousness still lingered in the fast-glazing eyes, and he recognized
the Emperor standing beside him. The half-closed eyelids opened wide,
and with a last supreme effort the dying man lifted himself and cried
out,
“Yes, I will remember Your Majesty, even up above!” then fell back
lifeless on his cot.
“Amen!” murmured the Emperor, and he gently closed the eyes of the young
hero who had died so true a soldier’s death.