William was quick to exploit the praise that engulfed him. During the first year of his reign he demanded a huge sum of money which he spent on redecorating his palaces, smartening up his bodyguard, designing new uniforms for his officials, new standards and orders for his regiments. A royal train of twelve carriages with the saloon car magnificently upholstered in blue satin was forthcoming; also an Imperial yacht, described in State papers as “a pattern for the Grand Squadron” but, later, carelessly referred to by the Kaiser as “a pleasure boat” for himself and his family.
William liked spit and polish, and he organised his court on military lines. Forgetting God for the moment, he let it be known that the Sovereign was to be referred to in dispatches as “The Most High” or “The All Highest”; communications from the royal hand were to be carried in special blue envelopes super-inscribed “Expressed by order of The All Highest,”[81] and his courtiers were never to argue or protest, merely to bow and reply: “As Your Majesty commands.”
William’s home life was conducted in the same brisk pattern. Here, also, there was no hint of insubordination. His dull, pious, servile wife, Dona, known to the world as the Empress Augusta Victoria, was the embodiment of devoted obedience. She fulfilled the Prussian ideal of womanhood by concerning herself mainly with her kitchens and nurseries. Her spare time was dedicated to stamping out vice and raising money for ecclesiastical purposes. During the first ten years of William’s reign she was instrumental in building 42 new churches. She spent many hours discussing morality with the Protestant clergy, and refused to invite any young man to Court who was suspected of having had sexual intercourse before marriage.
Dona regarded William as a demigod. She loved him and was frightened of him. His slightest wish became her heart’s desire. One of her greatest joys was the intimate family breakfasts they had together. She liked to hover over her husband, buttering his toast and removing his plates. As a result she frequently got no breakfast herself, for as soon as he had finished he would jump up and announce that it was time for a walk. “Come along! No dawdling!” And Dona would hurry after him. As far as woman were concerned she had no cause for complaint. Although he liked to sit next to a pretty woman at dinner, he had no liking for balls and chaffed rather than flirted. His favourite recreation was shooting. Sometimes he went to Austria as a guest of the Emperor, but more often he graced the domain of some Prussian magnate, such as Count Eberhard Dohna, who owned a vast estate, Prokelwitz, in Silesia. These visits were quite unlike the entertainments arranged in England for the Prince of Wales. Luxury was frowned upon as being unmanly; the rooms were simple, the food plain, and no women were present. Enormous pains were taken to see that the time-table moved with military precision, and the guests spent anxious hours before the Sovereign’s arrival trying to think of anecdotes and conversational gambits that might amuse him.
The host, Count Dohna, was ingenuous. William had once found a thunderbolt in the garden of a nearby estate and had talked about it for years, so the Count obligingly acquired bits of a meteorite and scattered them along his gravel path. “Life at Prokelwitz,” wrote one of the guests, “is extremely easy-going and restful. One gets up about six o’clock to assemble for breakfast in the forest with the Emperor. Potatoes are roasted at a big fire, stuck on wooden spikes, and handed round by the guests’ keepers. There is bread and butter, too, and various wines. The Emperor drives out there while it is still night — about two o’clock — and has a beefsteak beforehand. We lie about on the grass while breakfasting, talk about the incidents of the chase, and tell stories. The Emperor, in the highest of spirits, laughs and chaffs us all, and it is hard to remember the Imperial purple in such light-hearted moments… At about eleven we are back in Prokelwitz, where in the plain, whitewashed dining-room with its hundreds of antlers on the wall, and its open doorways, a hot breakfast awaits us. After this the Emperor goes to his room to sleep until about three o’clock in the afternoon… Between three and four the Emperor attends to the private letters of State which have arrived from Berlin. Dinner takes place at four We appear in morning-dress, and no luxury of any kind is displayed… About six o’clock the Emperor drives out again to the chase, and those who stay behind go for a walk, until about half-past nine the Emperor’s return is announced. A signal sounds when the carriage is seen approaching the village, two great torch-lights are lit in front of the house under the old linden trees, the keepers assemble, and we form a group at the door when the wagon drives in.”[82]
These parties might have been on the dull side if it had not been for the presence of a man who seemed to exercise a magic spell over the Kaiser. “Meet Philip Eulenburg my bosom friend — the only one I have.” Thus William presented Count Eulenburg to his tutor, George Hintzpeter, in 1887. The Count was twelve years older than William and noted for his charm, “a pale, grey-haired somewhat weary looking man with a pallid, fleeting smile, something of a visionary… who told his tales in a quiet, soft, subtle voice with a grave smile and a certain fascinating charm of manner.”[83] He was a brilliant conversationalist, something of a rarity in Berlin, and a talented musician. He had suffered a miserable childhood under the direction of a stern Prussian father who had forced him to conform to the accepted pattern of aristocratic behaviour; first the army, then the diplomatic service. Eulenburg’s real interests were music and poetry and he had loathed military life, complaining despairingly of the narrow-minded vulgarity of his fellow officers. Nevertheless he had not disgraced the family name, for he had brought back an Iron Cross from the Franco-Prussian conflict. Eulenburg first met William at one of the Prokelwitz shooting parties in 1886 — two years before he came to the throne. After dinner the guests begged him to sit down at the piano and sing some of his own ballads. The Prince was transfixed; never had he met such a fascinating man, never had he heard such intoxicating songs. “My attitude toward Prince William,” wrote Eulenburg, “was cordial yet circumspect, when in 1886 his friendship for me became ecstatic… my attitude was cordial, because his enthusiasm for my music and my musical performances, which almost feverishly delighted him, was congenial to my artistic soul, and very likely flattered my vanity as well…”[84] There were to be many more Nordic ballads, many more thrilling moments with the Prince “always sitting beside me and turning the pages… and he loved to greet me, when we met on shooting-mornings in the forest, with turns and phrases from my verses. I have had many a ravished listener to my performances, but hardly ever have I inspired such ravishment as in Prince William. And as at the same time I familiarly frequented Bismarck’s house, was an officer in the Prince’s adored Guards, and (alas!) profoundly intitiated in the byways of politics, I can understand that the young Prince should have felt as if looking deep into a cup filled with a draught whose ingredients were delightful to his palate.”[85]
The news that Eulenburg had become the favourite spread rapidly. Although he was only a minor secretary at the Munich Legation he suddenly found the Bismarcks treating him with great seriousness. “It was very useful, your going to see Prince William,” wrote Herbert Bismarck on June 11, 1886. “He thinks a great deal of you and has sung your praises to me in every kind of way. You must make use of this, and at Reichenhall talk to him again and get an influence over him. For the heaven-storming strain in most of his opinions must be toned down, so that the Potsdam Lieutenant’s outlook may gradually give way to statesmanlike reflections. Except for that, the Prince is really a pearl…” Then again: “And so you are going to Bayreuth with Prince William tomorrow. I hope you will distract his mind, so that the Wagnerian trombones may not damage his bad ear with their discords. Six hours of the Music of the Future would inflame even my drums. I am always afraid that the Prince will do too much, so energetic as he is in everything; and he must be prevented from that, for his health is of quite inestimable importance to the German nation.”[86]
Count Eulenburg developed his friendship with great sureness of touch. Since he lived in Munich and William in Berlin
most of it had to be done by post. His letters were amusing and deferential all at once, and heavily laden with rather soulful sentiments which apparently pleased his young master.
“I went one evening lately,” he wrote to William in 1882, “to the great New Year’s reception, where the House of Wittelsbach displayed itself in such splendour as gave a good Prussian food for reflection. I could not help thinking of my Emperor that is to be, how he avoids such pretentiousness. I thought of Potsdam, of our sledge-driving, our intimate communion, and a sense of such deep friendship came over me that all of a sudden I felt the glitter around me as an unbearable oppression. How human is our relation — and how I suffer from the thought that the social abyss between us, bridged by our friendship, must inevitably widen more and more when the Imperial Crown is on your head…”
This same note was sounded even more forcibly when William mounted the throne. “My Prussian heart, despite all its pain, beats joyously for the Sovereign, but my friendship’s heart is filled with melancholy at the thought of the deep chasm which nevertheless separates the Sovereign from the subject. But no subject can honour his Sovereign more than I do, who have been allowed to look into the heart of the noblest of friends. I pray from the depths of my soul that Your Majesty will deign to preserve me the favour which has become a radiance in my life.”
These sentiments were not hypocrisy. If William was fascinated by the Count, the Count, on the other hand, was thrilled by the emotions he had produced. His adoring eyes, said old Prince Bismarck, were enough to spoil the best breakfast. He went on to describe him as “something of a Prussian Cagliostro… a mystic, a romantic rhetorician… particularly dangerous for the dramatic temperament of our Emperor. In that high personage’s presence he assumed adoring attitudes which I believe to be perfectly sincere. The Emperor has only to look up, and he is sure to find those eyes fixed worshipfully upon him.”[87]
Despite the enchantment, Count Eulenburg was worldly enough to know that the Prince’s favour was bound to inspire jealousy, and even before William came to the throne dispensed with unnecessary trouble by offering himself as a tool of the Bismarcks. “I do not know whether you are aware that the Crown Prince corresponds with me?” he wrote to Herbert Bismarck in the spring of 1887. “I am sometimes uneasy at having to give him an answer to political questions, knowing pretty well that it is not generally desired. You know my sentiments, my loyal attachment to the Prince and yourself…”[88] The invitation was eagerly accepted and it was intimated to Eulenburg that he would become an official Foreign Office representative attached to William. “They want to use me for a certain kind of influence on him — the Prince,” he wrote in his diary. A year later the Prince was Kaiser and from then on Eulenburg sent copies of his letters, and William’s replies, to Herbert; he received instructions how to handle every political occasion, what to persuade his master to do and leave undone.
The Bismarcks were not the only ones who took pains to cultivate Count Eulenburg. As soon as his friendship with William became known, he received a letter from Baron von Holstein of the German Foreign Office. This powerful, shadowy figure had a dark reputation. He had been launched into diplomacy years earlier by the old Bismarck, who always referred to him as “the man with the hyena eyes.” He had no scruples, and did not hesitate to slander, bludgeon, bribe, or blackmail in carrying out Bismarck’s orders. Apparently he lived in perpetual fear of assault, for he always carried a revolver in his pocket and several times a week visited a small shooting gallery for target practice. By the same token he was a dangerous enemy, often scenting hostility in imaginary actions, and hitting back mercilessly. If someone happened not to bow to him, “this was enough to institute a persecution of the enemy which never came to an end. Even a word that somebody might somewhere have let fall… sufficed to establish a lasting enmity… for he was convinced that any one of them would let himself be bribed, would steal from him, or even murder him… All his energies were concentrated on politics, and that in the region of intrigue.”[89]
As a bachelor Holstein was able to dedicate his whole life to the Foreign Office. He shunned all publicity, never attended social functions, never travelled, and formed all his deductions from written reports. He worked so hard that he possessed an encyclopaedic knowledge of foreign treaties. He also carried on a vast correspondence with German diplomats all over the world. He often commanded them to send him private reports, over the heads of their superiors; this invariably placed them in the palm of his hand, for he could threaten to reveal their disloyalty.
He refused to take responsibility. His rank was only that of a Privy Councillor and he would not even accept a position as head of a department. It was part of his pathological nature only to exercise power in the back rooms where no one could fasten blame on him. As the years progressed he was witness to so many unsavoury transactions that even Bismarck stood in awe of the monster he had created. “A troublesome passenger,” he wrote, “but if one had tried to remove him from the coach, there was the risk of his beginning to blab in foreign parts.”
So Baron Holstein remained at the Foreign Office, weaving his web ever tighter. When Eulenburg sprang into prominence he wrote to him out of the blue, using the pretext of congratulating his handling of Bavarian affairs. Eulenburg understood the importance of maintaining cordial relations with the eminence grise; the correspondence developed, the friendship grew, the eulogies expanded. By Christmas 1890 Holstein had become “uncle” to the Eulenburg children, and the Count was writing to the Baron in a highly romantic vein. “With Mussigny’s incomparable and never-fading crimson-lake I paint in my heart your name, first known to me some years ago as that of a peculiar, unapproachable personage, never likely to unveil to a young Secretary of Legation who was more occupied with poetry than with diplomacy; but who subsequently to my amazement, and at first not without a certain misgiving on my part, entered into relations with me — and now is lauded by my children as a beneficent ‘uncle’ who gives them splendid books, and toys from Solkach’s. So there is a destiny in all things; I am heartily grateful to the Giver of all good for having won you to myself. I cannot now imagine what my life would be like without you. Not only the political life that I have got into I know not how, but the private too.”[90]
“As cold as a block of ice,” said Count Herbert Bismarck, describing William II. “Convinced from the start that people only exist to be used — either for work or amusement — and that even then they only do duty for a given period, after which they may be cast aside.”[91] Old Prince Bismarck noted his son’s observations; but he had no intention of being discarded. He planned to remain in office until he died.
Despite his seventy-three years, he was in excellent health and enjoying life more than ever. So long as his son Herbert and Holstein and Eulenburg all kept a watchful eye on the Kaiser, he had nothing to worry about. At any rate he got on well with William. Although the Sovereign was impetuous and inexperienced and arrogant, he had always hero-worshipped the Chancellor, and far from quarrelling with him, was eager to earn his respect. During the first year of the new reign the Austrian Ambassador described their relationship as a “honeymoon.” At the New Year of 1889 William telegraphed the old man that he was “full of joy and confidence, since you are still at my right hand, beginning the New Year with fresh vigour… May it long be vouchsafed me to work with you.” And on an imperial visit to Bismarck’s country estate, Count Eulenburg noted how the Kaiser made Bismarck precede him through a doorway. Even Bismarck himself was impressed by the young ruler’s respect. “So considerate… He was surprised that I had delayed breakfast for him until eleven o’clock… and has not got up before nine because he thought that I slept late.”
This cordiality did not mean that Bismarck was free from trouble. The most irritating thorn in his flesh was the muddle-headed, fire-eating Field Marshal von Waldersee whom William had appointed Chief of Staff. Waldersee still exerted great influence over William and still was preaching the preventiv
e war. He loudly criticised Bismarck’s policy of trying to improve relations with Russia. Instead of appeasing Russia Germany should attack and destroy her. She also should attack and destroy France before the latter grew too strong. War, not peace, was what was needed.
The Kaiser was dazzled by this sort of talk, and Herbert Bismarck reported anxiously that he fancied himself in the role of Frederick the Great — sometimes even of Julius Caesar! Herbert accompanied him to Italy in the summer of 1889 and was surprised to see him stop and gaze meditatively at a statue of Caesar. Later, he remarked sombrely: “I think I have a mission to destroy Gaul, like Julius Caesar.”
Bismarck was amused by these stories. It showed that the Kaiser was more interested in applause than responsibility. He was an exhibitionist; therefore he would be content with uniforms and decorations and state visits, and leave authority in the hands of his Chancellor. And even if he were not content, what could he do? Was Bismarck not the most celebrated statesman in Europe? Had he not carved the German Empire and placed the imperial crown on the Hohenzollern head? Fame was security; no one would risk becoming a laughing stock by replacing a giant with a gnat. So little did Bismarck worry about William that he scarcely bothered to come to Berlin. During the first eighteen months of the reign he spent only four months in the capital. The rest of the time he relaxed at his country estate, Friedrichsruh, near Hamburg. Since almost everything required his signature, affairs of state were slowed to a snail’s pace. The business of the nation was regulated by messenger boys with dispatch cases. The Chancellor did not care. There was nothing to hurry about anyway. Visitors to Friedrichsruh were struck by his amiability and contentment. His pale coughing wife was forever sewing at his side; one of his sons was always ready to spring to attention when his voice rang out: “Come here you!” At meal-times he presented the same formidable picture, eating enough for three and throwing his meat bones over his shoulder to a pair of huge, yelping dogs.
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