Chapter X: Part 10

As Johan is accredited to the Court of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, we were invited to a great court ball which was to be given. We arrived at Schwerin at twelve o'clock, and found the _maréchal de la cour_, the court servants and carriages at the station awaiting us. We were not installed in the castle, but at the Grand Duchess Marie's palace in the town itself. The _maréchal_ who met us informed us that we were expected to luncheon at one o'clock. We just had time to change our dresses and drive to the castle. The lady of honor and the _maréchal de la cour_ received us in the hall on the ground floor, and the elevator took us up to the _salon_ where the Grand Duke and the Grand Duchess were awaiting us.

The Grand Duchess is very charming and very handsome. She is the daughter of the Duchess of Cumberland, granddaughter of King Christian. We had luncheon in one corner of the vaulted hall--a luncheon of twenty people. I sat on the right of the Grand Duke, who was most amiable. After luncheon the Grand Duchess took me into her boudoir and showed me all her souvenirs--photographs of Bernstorff, a screen painted by the Queen of Denmark, and aquarelles of Gmunden, her home. She has all the charm of her dear mother and her beloved grandmother.

At four o'clock we left and drove about Schwerin, making the obligatory visits. A court carriage with a lackey was put at our service during our stay. I rested, having rushed about since eight o'clock in the morning.

Our apartment in this palace looked as if the mistress had just left it. The drawing-room is filled with knick-knacks, a piano with music on it, and tables with writing-materials. At seven o'clock we dined with the grand master of ceremonies and his wife at their palace. A dinner where you know none of the guests and no one knows you must naturally be uninteresting, and this one did not prove the contrary. At half past nine we went again to the _château_ to attend the ball. A chamberlain met us at the antechamber and preceded us into the ballroom. The grand-ducal pair came toward us, and I was led to my place on a raised dais. I danced the _quadrille d'honneur_ with the Grand Duke. Very nearly every one in the room was presented to me, and I found among them many people I had known before--therefore we had some subjects of conversation, for which I was thankful.

The _château_ is a _bijou_. It has a winding staircase which is worthy of Blois. We mounted this to go to the supper-room. The supper was served at small tables, and was excellent. Frederikke danced the cotillion, and we stayed until the end. It had indeed been a long day for me. The next day we drove to the _château_ and bid their Highnesses good-by.

BERLIN, _1904_.

Dear L.,--At one of the Towers's costume balls Mr. X, of American renown, dressed conspicuously as Jupiter (of all ironies!), stalked about, trying to act up to his part by shaking in people's faces his ridiculous tin bolts held in white kid-glove hands, and facetiously knocking them on the head. He happened, while talking to a lady, to be right in front of the young Prince. A friend tapped him discreetly on the shoulder, giving him a significant look. "What is the matter?" said Mr. X, in a loud voice, glaring at his friend. A gentle whisper informed him that he had better turn round and face the Prince. "Heavens!" said the ungracious Jupiter. "I can't help it; I'm always treading on their toes" (meaning the Prince's).

Speaking of indiscretions, I was told (I cannot say whether it is true) that Mrs. Z, one of our compatriots, having met the Emperor in Norway, where their yachts were stationed, and feeling that she was on familiar enough terms, said to him:

"Is it not lovely in Paris? Have you been there lately?"

"No, I have not," answered the surprised Kaiser.

"Oh, how queer! You ought to go there. The French people would just love to see you."

"Do you think so?" said the Emperor with a smile.

Thus encouraged, she enlarged on her theme, and, speaking for the whole French nation, continued, gushingly, "And if you would give them back Alsace and Lorraine they would simply adore you."

The Kaiser, looking at her gravely, as if she had solved a mighty problem, said, "I never thought of that, madame."

The dear lady probably imagines to this day that she is the apostle of diplomacy. She came to Berlin intending (so she said) to "_paint Berlin red_." She took the list of court people and sent out invitations right and left for her five-o'clock teas, but aristocracy did not respond. Berlin refused to be painted.

BERLIN, _September, 1905_.

Dear ----,--The Kaiser went to Copenhagen on the _Hohenzollern_. Johan and I met Frederick and Nina and stayed with them during the Emperor's visit. There was a very large dinner at Fredensburg, a dinner at Charlottenberg (the Crown Prince's _château_) in honor of the Kaiser. Prince Carl, who is about to be made King of Norway, was there. Princess Maud was in England. The King seemed to be in the best of spirits, and the two sovereigns laughed and joked together. The Emperor has a great affection for the King, and loves to show his respect and devotion. He often puts his arm around the King's shoulder when talking to him. I will just add here that Johan received another decoration, and Frederick, who is now Minister of Foreign Affairs, received a grand cordon, as well as a bust in bronze of the Kaiser. My gift from the Emperor is a beautiful gold cigarette-case with his autograph in diamonds on the front, with the imperial crown, also in diamonds.

The Kaiser went to a dinner given in his honor at the Y's.... Johan, Frederick, Nina, and I were among the guests. At the end of the rather long dinner a little episode happened which shows how quick the Emperor is to understand a situation and perceive its humorous side. According to custom, the Emperor occupies the hostess's place, with her at his right. Herr Y made signs to his wife across the table, and in a stage whisper begged her to find out from the Emperor if he wished coffee served at table or in the adjoining _salon_. The hostess apparently neither heard nor understood; at any rate, she said nothing to the Emperor. The host asked again, in a stagier whisper, and made signs with his head toward the other room. Still no answer. The Emperor, looking over to me (I sat next to the host), said, with a merry twinkle in his eye, "Something wrong in the code of signals." A few moments after he said quite casually to the host, "Would you mind if we had coffee in the other _salon_?"

The Emperor that evening was in excellent spirits. In his short mess-jacket he looked like a young cadet. He told us several amusing anecdotes and experiences in a most witty manner. Nina said to him:

"Your Majesty, I have been looking in all the shop-windows to-day to see if I could find a good photograph of you. I wanted to bring it, and was going to ask you to sign it, but--"

"But you could not find anything handsome enough, _hein_?" inquired the Emperor, laughing.

"That is true," Nina answered. "Your Majesty's photographs do not do you justice."

Beckoning to an adjutant, the Emperor said, "I want you to send to the shops and bring what photographs of me you can find."

The man departed. Although it was nine o'clock and most of the shops must have been shut, he did manage to bring some. Then the Kaiser examined the photographs, with a little amusing remark on each. "I do not think this is handsome enough--I look so cross. And this one looks conceited, which I don't think I am. Do you?"

"Not in the least," Nina answered.

"In this one," he remarked, "I look as if I had just ordered some one to be hanged. And this one [taking up another] looks like a Parsifal _de passage_"--referring to something I had once said.

"I did not say Parsifal, your Majesty. I said Lohengrin."

"All the same thing," said he.

"Not at all," I said. "One was a knight, and the other was a fool."

"Well," he laughed, "I look like both."

He did not like any of the photographs, and sent to the _Hohenzollern_ for his own collection. His servant came back almost directly (he must have had wings) and brought a quantity of portraits, which were much finer and larger than those from the shops. He begged us to choose the one we liked best, and he wrote something amusing on it and signed his name.

BERLIN, _January, 1906_.

Dear ----,--The sad news of the death of our adored old King arrived this evening. We were very surprised, as the last account we had heard of him seemed more hopeful. Though he was so very old (eighty-six years), he had a wonderful constitution and always was so active. I am glad that I saw him when he was here last year and had such a pleasant afternoon with him.

Johan was one of the pall-bearers at the King's funeral at Roskilde. I did not go on to Copenhagen. There was a funeral service here at the Scandinavian chapel. We are to have mourning for six months.

BERLIN, _June 6, 1906_.

Dear L.,--If I were going to be married and had to go through all the ceremonies which attend the marriage of a German princess, I think I would remain an old maid.

I will tell you what the wedding of the Princess Cecilia of Mecklenburg was like. As it was the first royal wedding that I had ever attended, my impressions are fresh, if not interesting. I have seen royal silver and golden weddings, but never anything like this.

The day before yesterday, the hottest day of all the tropical days we have been having, the Princess arrived in Berlin. The Emperor and the Empress met her at the station and drove her to Bellevue Castle, where there was a family lunch. She had numerous deputations and visits of all sorts until five o'clock, when she made her public entrance into Berlin, passing through Brandenburger Tor. All the streets where the Princess was to pass were decorated _à l'outrance_ with flags and flowers. Carpets were hung from the balconies.

The middle of the Unter den Linden, usually left to pedestrians, was freshly strewn with red earth for the procession of the carriages. All the public buildings were festooned with enormous paper roses as big as cabbages. There were high poles holding gilded baskets filled with flowers. In order that every one of the populace should have a souvenir these flowers were soaked in a preparation of wax, which made them quite hard, and they were warranted to last for some time. Streamers of paper flowers, graduating from light yellow through the whole gamut of rainbow colors and ending in dark blue, reached to the ground from the tops of the houses. The Opera House outdid itself. It was wise to cover it as much as possible--it is such an ugly building.

The French Ambassador invited us to see the _entrée_ from the balcony of the Embassy in Pariser Platz. The little maidens, their heads crowned with wreaths, had been waiting in the sun for hours with their baskets filled with roses, which they were to throw before the Princess as she passed.

It was a splendid procession, headed by the _Hofstalmeister_, followed by a staff of officers spangled with orders and decorations, in the most gorgeous uniforms. Then the blast of trumpets and a mounted military band preceded the gala coach, only used for weddings, drawn by six horses with huge white plumes on their heads. In the coach was the Empress, and on her right the Princess Cecilia in a light-blue dress, white hat, and long blue feathers.

The coach stopped in the Platz, and the Mayor of Berlin approached the window and presented a huge bouquet and delivered an address to the Princess, who bowed graciously and smiled.

The Empress looked very happy.

After this came all the other gala coaches, followed by the _garde du corps_.

There was a family dinner, and after that the gala performance at the Opera. I have already told you about these gala performances, so this will be only a repetition, except that there were more flowers and more carpets. All around on the ledge of the balcony there were fresh and real roses and carnations, so that every lady could take a bouquet away with her. Garlands of paper flowers hung the entire distance from the ceiling to the prompter's box. One wondered how they found hands enough in Berlin to make all these thousands of flowers.

The parquet was a garden of uniforms. The Emperor entered with the bride-elect on his arm, and the Empress with the Crown Prince. The Crown Prince wore the white uniform of the Guards, and a silver helmet. The other princes followed, all entering very quietly. Every one in the theater bowed and courtesied, and save for the rustling of dresses and the rattling of swords there was not a sound to be heard. The Crown Prince and his _fiancée_ sat in the middle seats, the Emperor to the right of his daughter.

The overture was a composition made for the occasion, and played while all the lights were blazing, in order that every one could have a good look at the Princess.

Then gradually the theater became dark, and the opera commenced. It was "Orphée," by Glück. Madame Destinn sang the principal part. Her voice is very beautiful, but she is so small, and somewhat dumpy, that she did not look much like an Orphée. To make the opera shorter they combined the first and second acts, and to allow Orphée to go from hell to heaven without letting down the curtain they had invented a sort of treadmill on which Orphée and Eurydice should walk while the landscape behind them moved. It was a very ungraceful way of walking. They looked as if they were struggling up a hill over rough and stony ground.

We went into the foyer after the performance and were presented to the Princess. I had known her as a young girl in Cannes, where her parents lived, therefore we had something to talk about. She is very charming, tall and willowy, and has a pleasant word and smile for every one.

The wedding-day dawned in a relentless haze. We were invited to be at the chapel of the _Schloss_ at five o'clock. The regulations about our court dress were the same as for the _Schleppenkur_, only we were begged _not_ to wear _white_. My dress was yellow, with a yellow _manteau de cour_. Frederikke wore a light-green _pailletted_ dress with a light-green train. We were a little late in starting; our _Schutzmann_ had waited patiently in the courtyard for a long time. We drove through the crowded streets, lined with spectators. Each clock we passed pointed in an exasperating way to the fact that we were late. J.'s sword seemed always to be in the way; every time he spoke out of the window to urge on the already goaded coachman the sword would catch on something. The air was more than suffocating, and there was evidently a storm brewing.

We arrived before the portal of the _Schloss_ at the last moment. Ours was the last carriage to arrive. The pompous _Suisse_ pounded his mace on the ground and said, warningly, "You must hurry; the Kaiser is just behind you." And we _did_ hurry.

The staircase makes three turns for each flight, and the chapel is the highest place in the palace, meaning seven turns for us. I grasped the tail of my ball dress in one hand and my heavy court train in the other and prepared to mount. On each turn I looked behind and could just see the eagle on the top of the Emperor's silver helmet. We hurried as I never hurried in my life, for if his Majesty had got ahead of us on any of these turns where the two flights meet and part, we would have been shut out from the chapel. As it was, one door was already closed. They opened it for us, and we were the last to enter before the princes. We crossed the chapel to reach the _estrade_ on which stood the _Corps Diplomatique_. In my hurry I forgot to let down my dress, and I don't dare to think how much stocking I must have exhibited. When finally I did reach my place I was so out of breath it took me a long time before I was in it again.

There was a general who stood before me with his plumed hat in his hand, and the plumes waved about like palm-trees, so near were they to my panting!

Then the Emperor appeared with his suite, and stood at the right of the altar. He was a little ahead of time. There were about seventy-two princes and princesses. Each of the princesses had a page or a young lady to hold up her train.

The Empress then entered, followed by her suite. The youngest _demoiselle d'honneur_ held her train, which was of red velvet covered with heavy embossed gold embroidery.

After the Empress came the Crown Prince in his white _garde de corps_ uniform. He looked very young and slender and quite pale.

A moment after the bride came in. Six young ladies held her train, which was light-blue velvet embroidered in silver, over a white-satin gown covered with beautiful point lace. The train was carefully spread on the floor.

The choir of boys high up in the dome sang psalms with many verses. Then the clergyman commenced his exhortation, which was very long. The heat was intense. Some ladies about me thought they were going to faint, but happily they could not make up their minds.

Although the music was delicious, I longed to hear the organ. Especially when the ceremony was finished I hoped that we should hear Mendelssohn's March. But there was no organ in the chapel.

It took the royal persons a long time to leave the chapel, each princess taking up a great deal of space with her train and her train-bearer. The last princely couple were strangely contrasted. The young Duchesse d'Aosta, who is unusually tall, walked with a tiny Siamese prince. We followed down the steps to the _Weissesaal_, where the members of the Diplomatic Corps defiled before the throne and made our courtesy--_one only_--before the Emperor. All the suites and court gentlemen stood massed together opposite the throne. It was quite an ordeal to walk under the fire of so many eyes, as the parquet was without any carpet and very slippery, and the length of the room immense.

After waiting what seemed an hour, the royalties, headed by the Emperor and the Empress, walked past us.

The spectacle of these fifty princesses with their magnificent dresses, blazing with jewels, made one gasp.

Besides all the royal people of Germany, representatives from other countries were present. Prince Christian and his wife, who is the sister to the bride, represented Denmark.

They all disappeared in the banqueting-hall at the end of the gallery. We others sat down at tables each containing twelve people, and were served a regular dinner.

Each table in our room had a superb _surtout de table_ in silver, and silver drinking-cups worthy of a museum. The _ménus_ and bonbons were trimmed with white-satin frills and had the photographs of the Crown Prince and Princess, and were laid by each plate. A dinner for three thousand people! The young ladies and officers had their dinner at a standing buffet.

We went back to the ballroom after the royalties had passed us again. The clouds outside were very oppressive.

Then the traditional _Fackeltanz_ commenced. The _Corps Diplomatique_ had a platform to itself, fenced in with cords. We were so crowded that had it not been for the cord which held us in our places we would have tumbled out.

The ladies of the nobility also had a platform. The herald, dressed in a short medieval, red-velvet costume, with the embroidered coat of arms of Germany on his breast, advanced, trumpet in hand, and announced that the _Fackeltanz_ was about to begin. The orchestra played a gavotte; and the Crown Prince, giving his hand to the Empress, and the Crown Princess giving hers to the Emperor, preceded by eight pages with torches and by Prince Fürstenberg, walked around the room. When they arrived before the throne they made the most reverential of bows before parting with their Majesties, who took their places on the throne. The Princess's train was carried by four young ladies, and by her side walked Countess Harrach, one of the _dames de palais_. After this the Princess walked with every prince according to his rank, sometimes with two, one on each side, and the Prince walked with two ladies. Each tour of the _salon_ they made they stopped in front of the Emperor and bowed and received their next partner. Fancy what fatigue!

The storm which we had expected now really burst upon us. Peals of thunder mingled with the strains of the orchestra, and almost shook the ground.

At eleven o'clock the Princess had danced with every one and had made hundreds of courtesies, and on the signal given by their Majesties retired with her suite. We went down the _Hölletreppe_ (in English, _hell-stairs_), a rather diabolical name, but I hope it was paved with better intentions than the _Wendeltreppe_, where we went up. My intention was, _bed_.

We found our carriages and drenched coachman and dragged our trains home to their resting-places.

We had been eight hours under arms.

Every one received a white ribbon with a little gold fringe on the end, bearing the monogram of the married couple. It was a _honi soit qui mal y pense_ remembrance of the royal wedding.

Prince Wilhelm Hohenzollern,[2] cousin of the Emperor, is a great philatelist, and brought his magnificent collection of albums (eight or ten large ones) to show me, and a pile of duplicates. His victoria was quite filled when he drove up to our door, and his _chasseur_ had to make two trips to bring them all up. Collectors of postage-stamps make a brotherhood in themselves. He knew each stamp in his books, and explained all to us.

[2] Father of the princess who married the young ex-King
of Portugal, Manuel, in 1913.

He has twelve thousand! I brought out my little collection very shyly--it was so insignificant beside his. We passed two hours going through the two collections. He left six thousand duplicates with me to look over and chose from, so my collection was enriched by one thousand new specimens. He told me he had inherited a whole collection from his uncle, the King of Rumania. He came to drink with us, and was always most amiable. He does not play cards, nor is he musical in any way, therefore conversation was our only resource. I brought in all my animals and put them through their tricks; the parrot played up wonderfully. He followed me about the room, sat on my shoulder, sang, and whistled. What amused people most was, when I sang "Medje," a very sentimental song, he imitated a _rire-fou_ which seemed so inappropriate that every one was convulsed with laughter. Then I showed my doves, which were pronounced "perfect darlings." My seven dogs did their best to amuse us. The parrot ran after them and bit their tails, which the dogs did not resent in the least.

Prince Friedrich Wilhelm of Prussia also dined with us--a very formal dinner. He is rather serious for such a young man. He is tall and thin, and in his high, buttoned-to-the-chin uniform he looks even taller than he really is. He is very musical, and brought his violin and several books of music. He only approves of Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart in his severer moods. He likes Bach best of all. He plays very correctly, one might say without a fault, but I have heard violinists who play with more _brio_. He listened with kindness to a young Danish girl who executed a dashing solo by Brahms divinely, and nodded his head in approval when she had finished. The Prince was begged to play several times, and he went through the entire _répertoire_ of sonatas he had brought with him. The guests were immensely pleased, and the _soirée_ was very successful.

His brother, Prince Joachim Albrecht, is also a very good musician, but differs radically from Prince Wilhelm. He plays the violoncello very well, and favors modern music. He composes ballads, and leads his own regimental orchestra. He is as jolly and unconventional as his brother is reserved and grave. When he dines with us he brings his violoncello, and I accompany him on my piano. He composed two very pretty and successful ballets, both given for charity. The first one was danced by Frederikke and two other girls and three young officers. It was called "_La Leçon de Danse_." On the top of the program, instead of the English device, "_Honi soit qui mal y pense_," I put "_Honi soit qui mal y danse_" in the same shield. Hardly any one in the German audience saw the joke--nothing more than that it was a _druckfehler_ (printer's error). The rehearsals were in my _salon_, and we had great amusement over them. The second ballet was more pretentious, and was danced in one of the largest theaters in Berlin. It was called the "Enchanted Castle." A parvenu buys an ancestral castle, and on his arrival there falls asleep in the great hall, filled with the portraits of ancestors and knights in armor. The ladies, in their old-fashioned dresses, step out from their frames, and with the knights in armor move in a stately quadrille. After they return to their frames, thirty young couples dance a ballet, and when they finish, the parvenu wakes up. It was very pretty and brought in a lot of money, and there was a question of its being repeated for the Emperor, but this was not done.

_February, 1908._

Dear L.,--The Crown Prince and the Crown Princess gave a small _bal-costume_. It was their first entertainment of any importance, though there were very few people invited. As Frederikke is a dancing young person, we were invited, enabling me to take many girls under my protecting wing. The Emperor was dressed as the Grand Elector of Brandenburg. The Empress had copied an old family portrait at San Souci. She had a voluminous blond peruke and a flowing blue dress. She looked very handsome. The Princes were generally dressed as their ancestors and looked very familiar, as almost all of them stand in the _Sièges Allée_. I learned much of German history that evening. The Emperor was very kind and gave me a spirited and concise history of those whom his six sons represented. No one except the Kaiser would ever have had the persistency to stay booted and spurred during the whole evening without a murmur, though he must have suffered from the heat and been uncomfortable to a great degree. He had thick, brown curls which hung close about his ears; thick, high, and hot leather boots; and heavy leather gloves which he conscientiously kept on till the very end.

The Kaiser is a wonderful personality. The more I see him the more I admire him. He impresses you as having a great sense of power and true and sound judgment. And then he is kind and good. I do not think him capable of doing a mean or small action.

Mrs. Vanderbilt drove me out to Potsdam in her motor, and, going through the forest, we passed in our hurried flight an automobile which we did not have time to remark upon. That evening there was a ball at court. When the Emperor spoke to me he said: "You flew by the Empress and me like lightning this afternoon when we were walking in the forest."

"Was that your Majesty's motor?" I asked. "We went so fast that I did little else than hold on to my seat. It must have seemed ill-mannered to have flown by like that."

There is to-night a _Gesinde Ball_ to which we are going. I know that you have no idea as to what a _Gesinde Ball_ is, so I will tell you that it is a ball given at some kind house by a kind lady. People dress themselves up as servants. It is our wildest dream, and we are never so happy as when we are gotten up to look like ladies' maids. I can tell you how some of them will look--self-made and to the manner born. I am going, since commands from superior quarters make it imperative, as a giddy old housekeeper or a care (worn) taker who has taken a smart gown from her mistress's wardrobe on the sly.

Several evenings later I heard your _prima donna_ with patience (because you sent her), but not with enthusiasm. She is like a hundred other would-be _prima donnas_ who cannot sing now and never can. These flock to Berlin, study with all their might for two or three years, and sing worse each year. Then they give a concert, for which they give away the tickets. They say they must have the Berlin criticism. In the mean time their families are eating dry bread and their friends are squeezed like lemons. They get their criticism in some paper, cut it out, stick it on a nice piece of paper, and send it to their countrymen, who are out of pocket for a thousand marks or so. Then they go back to their homesteads, discouraged and unhappy, and sing for nothing in the village choir for the rest of their lives.

Our winters are very much alike--always the same routine. The season commences with the reception of the _grande maîtresse_, then comes the _Schleppenkur_, the _Ordensfest_, and after that the Emperor's birthday, with a gala opera in the evening; then the first, second, and third balls at court, and the gala performances at the Opera when any sovereign comes to Berlin on a visit. In Lent there is always one entertainment at court. After Easter every one disappears and all the blinds are pulled down. Those who remain in Berlin pretend they are away.

The Emperor speaks French and English with equal ease, but he likes best to speak English. He can be very lively at times, and then the next moment just as serious again. While talking to you he never takes his eyes off your face. He is seemingly all attention. Sometimes when the diplomatic ladies stand side by side he glances to the next lady, evidently making up his mind about what he will talk with her. His voice is singularly clear, and what he says is straight to the point. He has the rare gift of making the person to whom he is talking appear at his very best. The life in Potsdam is, I have been told, very home-like and cozy. The Emperor often spends the evening reading aloud, while the Empress sits near with her knitting. They love to be in the Neues Palais and stay there until after Christmas. Their Christmas festivities must be worth seeing. Each prince has a Christmas tree and a table of his own, makes his own choice of presents, and ties up his own packages--as it were--and lights the Christmas candles. These festivals are held in the mussel-room, on the ground floor, original if not pretty--a combination of shells, mother-of-pearl, and glass stone, which must be very effective in the brilliantly lighted room.

The Empress is very fond of riding, but often drives a little pony-carriage with two English "high-steppers." Once when the Shah of Persia was spending the day at Potsdam the Empress offered to take him out for a drive in the park. Half-way to their destination the lively pace of the horses alarmed the Shah. He put his hand over hers, which held the reins, and said in his pigeon-French, "_Vous-mourir seule_" and got out and walked back.

The Emperor said to me, "Do you know Mr. Carnegie?"

I said that I did not.

"He is a clever gentleman," continued the Emperor. "Can you guess what he said to me?"

I shook my head.

The Emperor then quoted Mr. Carnegie: "You and Mr. Roosevelt would make a nice tandem."

"That shows tact and discrimination," I remarked.

The Emperor laughed. "I asked him which he thought would be the wheel-horse?"

"What did he answer to that?" said I.

"I am afraid Mr. Carnegie did not find anything to answer just then. He has not your talent for repartee."

"In this case," I assured his Majesty, "I should not have answered at all, for I have no idea what a wheel-horse is. If it is the horse which makes all the wheels turn, then it must be your Majesty."

"You see!" said the Emperor, shaking his finger and laughing.

We had the great pleasure of welcoming Prince Hans (King Christian's brother). Johan was with him in Greece many years ago and has never ceased to love him. He is the most polite gentleman I ever saw; he almost begs your pardon for being kind to you. He dined with us yesterday. We invited to meet him Prince Albert Schleswig-Holstein (his nephew) and Prince and Princess Wied[3]. This young couple are delightfully charming. The Prince has the most catching smile. It is impossible not to be in good spirits when you are with him. We sat out on the balcony after dinner and took our coffee and looked out into the brilliantly lighted square of Brandenburger Tor with its network of trams. I think our apartment is the most beautifully situated in all Berlin.

[3] Now King and Queen of Albania.

_March, 1908._

Dear L.,--The King of Spain is in Berlin now on a visit of a few days to the Emperor. We only saw him at the gala performance at the Opera. The Kaiser had chosen "The Huguenots." It was beautifully put on. Madame Hempel sang the part of Marguerite de Valois, and Madame Destinn sang Valentine. The house was decorated in the usual manner, with carpets hanging from the balconies and flowers in great profusion everywhere. The King of Spain sat between the Kaiser and the Kaiserin. He looks very young and very manly. After the first act, when we all met in the foyer, the Emperor stood by him, and sometimes would take him by the arm and walk about in order to present people to him. I was presented to him, but I did not get more than a smile and a shake of the hand--I could not expect more. Johan was more favored, for the King asked him how long he had been in Berlin. You must confess that even that was not much.

I was compensated by having quite a long talk with the Kaiser--long for him, as he has so many people to talk to, and he feels, I am sure, every eye of the hoping-to-speak-to-him person in the room. He said:

"I have just been reading the memoirs of General von Moltke. Did you ever know him?"

"No," I said, "I never saw him, but I have a letter from him, written in 1856 to my father-in-law, dated from the Tuileries."

"He often speaks in his letters of your husband's grandparents' home in Copenhagen--how he always felt at home and happy there, and was always sure to find a charming circle of interesting and literary people. You must read it; it would interest your husband, too."

"Did your Majesty ever hear about Moltke's visit to some grand-ducal court? Moltke thought, of course, that as he had all the grand cordons and decorations in creation, he had also that of this court. When he was going to visit the Grand Duke he said to his servant, 'Don't forget my decoration,' The servant looked high and low, but could not find it, and, thinking that he had mislaid it, went and bought one. Moltke put on his uniform, the decoration being in place on his breast. When the Grand Duke entered he had in his hand an _étui_ containing the decoration, intending to hang it around Moltke's neck himself. Imagine his surprise at seeing it there already!"

BERLIN, _November, 1908_.

Dear L.,--Our King and Queen visit Berlin.

When the Emperor learned of the date for the visit, and that their Majesties were to be accompanied by the Minister of Foreign Affairs (Frederick) he proposed that Nina should also come, and he invited them to be his guests at the _Schloss_. This was joyful news for me. Though Nina had just had a dreadful fall while riding and had broken her arm and wrist, she had the courage to undertake the journey. They traveled with their Majesties.

The _Lehrter Bahnhof_ is particularly well adapted to receive royalties. It has a fine _façade_, and the open square in front is large enough to contain the military bands and the hundreds of carriages of all sorts. Today it was overflowing.

Inside the station a broad flight of steps lead down to the platform, where was spread the traditional red carpet; the plants, bushes, and flowers all made it look very gay and festive. The train was expected at eleven o'clock. We hoped to get there very early, but found the Emperor and his staff already on the platform, waiting. As our little party arrived (we and the Secretaries) the Emperor came forward, took my hand, and kissed it very graciously. We stood talking until the Empress came, accompanied by all her ladies and suite. The train was announced by many signals and many whistlings, but no train came in. The locomotive had given out and the train had stopped a good way out of the station. The carpet not reaching so far, their Majesties were obliged to walk quite a distance on the wet platform. By means of shunting and jerking the royal train was brought in under the station roof, but nowhere near the carpet. The small steps were put up to the carriage door, and the King and Queen descended. The Emperor kissed the King on both cheeks. The Empress received the Queen affectionately and gave her a bouquet, which she carried in her hand. I saw Nina's pale face, pinched with pain, in the distance, and longed to fly to her, but etiquette compelled me to stay to make my obeisance to their Majesties. The band which was in the station struck up the Royal Danish March, and we could hardly hear ourselves speak on account of the tremendous resonance. The procession of resplendent uniforms and the bright colors of the ladies' dresses made a brilliant sight as they walked through the station. The Empress led the way, and we all followed to the waiting-room, where presentations to the Queen took place. The Empress presented every one of the ladies to the Queen, _even me_. All the royal carriages seemed to be out--two open barouches with four horses were for the four royalties. I drove to the castle to see Nina, who was already installed in her regal apartment. I went up the _Wendeltreppe_, through two antechambers and a small _salon_, before reaching her magnificent drawing-room. It had superb tapestries on the walls and was filled with fine old Dutch inlaid furniture. It is called the Braunschweig suite, nine rooms in all. Frederick had a separate staircase and entrance. Nina and I went to the window to look out onto the _Platz_ in front of the castle, and saw the parade pass before the Emperor and the King, who stood in the rain while the troops marched by.

Nina had a court carriage and lackey at her disposal all the time she was in Berlin. In the evening there was a state dinner in the superb _Weissesaal_. Johan and I and the members of the Legation were the only diplomats present. We all met in the Grand Gallery; the Emperor took in the Queen of Denmark, placing her on his right, and the King gave his arm to the Empress and sat facing the Emperor. The table was in the shape of a horseshoe, and there were about eighty people present. Prince Schleswig-Holstein (familiarly called Prince Abby) took me in, and the Emperor's son, Prince Adalbert, sat on my left. The _ménu_ was in German. Some of the French dishes seemed to have puzzled the translator. The Empress wore a dress of blue brocade and many beautiful jewels. Our Queen wore a light-gray satin trimmed with lace, and her famous diamond-and-pearl necklace. The Emperor wore the Danish uniform, and the King was in the uniform of his Prussian regiment. A military band played throughout dinner.

I was amused when the fruit and bonbons were passed. Both the princes next to me piled their plates high with them and passed them over their shoulders to the young gentlemen pages who stood behind each royal person, thus depriving many ladies of the longed-for bonbons, which were adorned with the portraits of their Majesties.

The Emperor made a very charming and touching speech in German, when we all stood up and emptied our glasses. The King replied in German, and we again got up and drank. After dinner every one went into the long gallery, and their four Majesties talked very informally with us while taking their coffee. At eleven o'clock their Majesties retired. I was glad, for Nina's sake, that she could rest after her fatiguing day. I knew that she was suffering agonies from her tightly bandaged wrist. Her arm was in a plaster cast, and she carried it in a sling cleverly hidden under her laces. The next day the Empress took the Queen with her to visit some charitable institutions. The King and the Queen had graciously promised to lunch at our house, which was surrounded by a cordon of police, on foot and on horseback, in front and in the courtyard belonging to the Legation.

At two o'clock quite a procession of court carriages entered our _porte-cochère_, where I met the Queen, presenting her with a bouquet tied with ribbons of the Danish colors--red and white. Our lunch was for forty people, and was served in two rooms. The King gave me his arm. The Emperor had sent in the morning a life-sized crayon portrait of himself by Lenbach as a present. The whole staircase was lined with palms and bushes, and of course there were plenty of flowers in the rooms.

After luncheon a deputation of the Danish colony met in the large _salons_ and were presented to their Majesties. It was after five o'clock before every one had departed. The policemen had filed off, and the crowds which had collected in the street disappeared.

The gala opera in the evening was like all the other gala operas I have described. At eight o'clock every one had assembled and was in his place. The opera was called "_Der Lange Kerl_," written at the Emperor's command by some German composer. It was a beautiful production, and represented Frederick the Great at Sans-Souci. In the first act the interior of Sans-Souci was copied after the famous picture of Mezzler where Frederick the Great is playing on the flute. The "Long Fellow" was a giant, who, it seems, was a common soldier in the King's regiment. Madame Destinn took the part of a peasant woman, and washed up the pavement and prepared her vegetables for sale in the most realistic manner. The second scene, when Potsdam wakes up in the morning, reminded me of the opening of the second act of "Lohengrin." The last act was very sad, and rather lugubrious, representing Frederick the Great seated in the garden in front of Sans-Souci. There was no singing in this act at all, only pantomime. The respectful manner and the sad faces of the lackeys as they helped the poor old King to his chair and covered his knees with rugs, leaving him alone, was very pathetic.

We went into the foyer after the performance. The Empress presented all the notable people to the Queen, and I stood near her in order to present others if necessary.

BERLIN, _May, 1910_.

Dear L.,--Do not be surprised that you have not heard from me. We have been motoring. A most delightful tour. One does not know the bliss of traveling until one motors through Germany as we have just done. I would send you my diary, but it reads too much like a ship's log. We started from Berlin on the 1st of May and went as far as Eisenach. In trying to climb the steep hill which leads to the halls where Tannhauser sang his naughty description of Venusberg our motor broke down, as if to commemorate the spot. We had to spend the night at Eisenach for repairs. The next day we passed Gotha, where we lunched, and passed the night at Fulda. The next day we went on to Weimar, where Liszt's memory is as green as the trees in the grand-ducal park.

Everything is beautiful in this time of the year, and the days are long. What could be more enchanting I leave to your imagination.

In Munich we galleried from morning to night, and were utterly exhausted and hardly had the courage to dress for the opera; but, having tickets, economy got the better of prudence, and we sat through the long performance of "Don Giovanni" with _Geduld_.

Andrada, the Portuguese barytone, was very good and looked the part to perfection. In real life I am told he is a Don Juan himself. If the list of his victims has not yet reached _mille et un_ the fault cannot be laid at his door. His stage victims were all fat German _Frauen_. Zerlina wore a blond wig, showed very black eyebrows and red lips. Her golden molars showed from afar. Our visit to the artist Lenbach and his wife was followed by an invitation to tea the next day. Lenbach is divorced from his first wife, married to a Countess Arnim (also divorced). They have a dear little girl whom Lenbach has painted several times. The studio is in a charming garden, arranged in the most artistic manner, full of broken columns and antique relics resembling the gardens on the Venice canals. Lenbach seen in the bosom of his family is a different Lenbach from the one we knew in Rome and Paris--half society man, half artist. Here he is simply _all papa_.

We motored over the mountain to Oberammergau. I do not dare to say that I was disappointed in the performance. I suppose years ago, when people began to go to Oberammergau, it was more interesting, but now it is simply an enterprise, speculation kept alive by travelers and sight-seers. As a representation it is impressive in a way, but your illusions are dimmed by the prosaic manner in which everything is done. I felt a little queer when I met Jesus Christ smoking and wiping his muddy sandals with a dirty handkerchief, and saw Mary Magdalene flirting with the chauffeurs. When we sat at a _café_, enjoying a mug of beer and a sausage, we were surrounded by St. Joseph and a brood of angels, all drinking beer. People may rave about the _Stimmung_, the poetry, and the romance of it, but I saw beauty neither in the acting nor in the play. I do not speak of the music, there was so little of it. Physical comfort goes a long way with yours lovingly. To sleep in a narrow bed having a piece of flannel buttoned between two coarse pieces of linen, to eat bad food, to sit on hard benches for hours under an open heaven which lets down occasionally a mild shower--this is what the Germans call _Stimmung_ and others call "local color" and what I call discomfort. Still, it is one of the things one must do once in ten years. For a European to say, "I have not been to Oberammergau," is like an American saying, "I have never been to Niagara."

Whoever has been to see the crazy King Ludwig's _châteaux_ knows more about them than I do, for I hated to go inside them. I gazed at the magnificent view and wondered how any but a crazy person could have furnished the interiors.

What a life the King led his faithful subjects! They are still taxing all they can tax in order to pay his debts. Poor things! They won't finish for a long time yet!

BERLIN.

Dear L.,--The visit to the Berlin court by King Edward and Queen Alexandra is already a thing of the past, but I must tell you about it while it is still fresh in my mind. We, as _légation de famille_, went to the Lehrter station to meet them on their arrival. When the train steamed in the Emperor and the Empress went forward to the door of the carriage, and as the King and the Queen descended they all embraced affectionately. The Empress led the Queen to the waiting-room, where she presented all the ladies who were there. There was music inside and outside of the station. In fact, everything was so exactly like the reception of our King and Queen, which I have described before, that I will not repeat myself.

King Edward looked tired and coughed constantly. The Queen, whom I had not seen for a long time, seemed quite unchanged and charming as ever. There is not much time on such occasions to say more than a few words to each. We saw them drive off amid the most enthusiastic greetings from the populace massed together in the square.

That evening there was a state banquet, served in the _Weissesaal_, at which the Kaiser read his speech in English to the King, and the King read his reply.

I sat between Lord Granville and Sir Charles Hardinge, between a cross-fire of wit and fun. The court orchestra, up in the gallery, played subdued music during the dinner, so that conversation was possible. Their four Majesties sat next to one another on one side of the table, and the _Chancelier de l'Empire_ sat opposite the Empress. The English Embassy and ourselves were the only diplomats among the hundred guests. The bonbons which were served with the fruit had photographs of King Edward, the Queen, and the German Imperial family, and were, as is the custom, handed to the pages. These offerings are meant, I suppose, as a polite attention, and little souvenirs of the occasion, but the guests for whom the bonbons are intended go away empty-handed. These pages belong to the highest families in Germany, and are present at all court functions, such as balls and dinners, and stand behind the chairs of the royal personages at the table.

After dinner we went into the long gallery, which in one part was arranged as a _salon_, with _fauteuils_ and chairs in circle.

To show what a wonderful memory King Edward has, he said to me:

"Do you remember a song you used to sing [I thought he was going to say 'Beware'] with something about, 'I mean the daughter'?"

"Yes, your Majesty, I remember very well. It was, 'I know a lady, a Mrs. Brady.'"

"Yes, that was it...'and has a daughter,' wasn't it?"

I said, "What a memory your Majesty has! Fancy remembering that all these years. It was when your Majesty came to Sommerberg to play tennis with Paul Hatzfeldt."

"That was a long time ago," continued King Edward. "I was stopping then with the King and the Queen of Denmark at Wiesbaden. I remember it all so well. Poor Hatzfeldt. You know what Bismarck said about him?"

"Was it not something about his being the best horse in his stable?"

"That is it," the King answered. "You have a good memory, too. How is Countess Raben?"

"You mean 'the daughter'?"

The King laughed. "Yes, I mean 'the daughter.'"

We did not stay long after the dinner, as evidently their Majesties were fatigued after their journey. The King coughed incessantly, and the Queen looked very tired. I think that she is beginning to look very like her mother, the dear old Queen.

The next day hundreds of court carriages were flying about Berlin; I wish you could see the packages of cards that were sent to us. In the evening was the gala opera. The Opera House is always decorated in the same way, and there is always the same audience.