Chapter 2
In Prussia the unrest was chiefly domestic. The country, while nominally a Great Power, was neutral during the Crimean War, and played for the moment but a small part in foreign politics. Bismarck, in his "Gedanke und Erinnerungen," compares her submission to Austria to the patience of the French noble-man he heard of when minister in Paris, whose conduct in condoning twenty-four acts of flagrant infidelity on the part of his wife was regarded by the French as an act of great forbearance and magnanimity. Prince William, the Emperor's grandfather, afterwards William I, first German Emperor, was on the throne, acting as Prince Regent for his brother, Frederick William IV, incapacitated from ruling by an affection of the brain. The head of the Prussian Ministry, Manteuffel, had been dismissed, and a "new era," with ministers of more liberal tendencies, among them von Bethmann Hollweg, an ancestor of the present Chancellor, had begun. General von Roon was Minister of War and Marine, offices at that time united in one department. The Italian War had roused Germany anew to a desire for union, and a great "national society" was founded at Frankfurt, with the Liberal leader, Rudolf von Bennigsen, at its head. Public attention was occupied with the subject of reorganizing the army and increasing it from 150,000 to 210,000 men. Parliament was on the eve of a bitter constitutional quarrel with Bismarck, who became Prussian Prime Minister (Minister President) in 1862, about the grant of the necessary army funds. Most of the great intellects of Germany--Kant, Goethe, Schiller, Hegel, Fichte, Schleiermacher--had long passed away. Heinrich Heine died in Paris in 1856. Frederick Nietzsche was a youth, Richard Wagner's "Tannhäuser" had just been greeted, in the presence of the composer, with a storm of hisses in the Opera house at Paris. The social condition of Germany may be partially realized if one remembers that the death-rate was over 28 per _mille_, as compared with 17 per _mille_ to-day; that only a start had been made with railway construction; that the country, with its not very generous soil, depended wholly upon agriculture; that savings-bank deposits were not one-twelfth of what they are now; that there were 60 training schools where there are 221 to-day, and 338 evening classes as against 4,588 in 1910; that many of the principal towns were still lighted by oil; that there was practically no navy; and that the bulk of the aristocracy lived on about the same scale as the contemporary English yeoman farmer. Berlin contained a little less than half a million inhabitants, compared with its three and a half millions of to-day, and the state of its sanitation may be imagined from the fact that open drains ran down the streets.
The Emperor's father, Frederick III, second German Emperor, was affectionately known to his people as "unser Fritz," because of his liberal sympathies and of his high and kindly character. To most Englishmen he is perhaps better known as the husband of the Princess, afterwards Empress, Adelaide Victoria, eldest daughter of Queen Victoria, and mother of the Emperor. Frederick III had no great share in the political events which were the birth-pangs of modern Germany, unless his not particularly distinguished leadership in the war of 1866 and that with France be so considered. The greater part of his life was passed as Crown Prince, and a Crown Prince in Germany leads a life more or less removed from political responsibilities. He succeeded his father, William I, on the latter's death, March 9, 1888, reigned for ninety-nine days, and died, on June 15th following, from cancer of the throat, after an illness borne with exemplary fortitude.
To what extent the character of his parents affected the character of the Emperor it is impossible to determine. The Emperor seldom refers to his parents in his speeches, and reserves most of his panegyric for his grandfather and his grandfather's mother, Queen Louise; but the comparative neglect is probably due to no want of filial admiration and respect, while the frequent references to his grandfather in particular are explained by the great share the latter took in the formation of the Empire and by his unbounded popularity. The Crown Prince was an affectionate but not an easy-going father, with a passion for the arts and sciences; his mother also was a disciplinarian, and, equally with her husband, passionately fond of art; and it is therefore not improbable that these traits descended to the Emperor. As to whether the alleged "liberality" of the Crown Prince descended to him depends on the sense given to the word "liberal." If it is taken to mean an ardent desire for the good and happiness of the people, it did; if it is taken to mean any inclination to give the people authority to govern themselves and direct their own destinies, it did not.
The mother of the Emperor, the Empress Frederick, had much of Queen Victoria's good sense and still more of her strong will. A thoroughly English princess, she had, in German eyes, one serious defect: she failed to see, or at least to acknowledge, the superiority of most things German to most things English. She had an English nurse, Emma Hobbs, to assist at the birth of the future Emperor. She made English the language of the family life, and never lost her English tastes and sympathies; consequently she was called, always with an accent of reproach, "the Engländerin," and in German writings is represented as having wished to anglicize not only her husband, her children, and her Court, but also her adopted country and its people. A chaplain of the English Church in Berlin, the Rev. J.H. Fry, who met her many times, describes her as follows:--
"She was not the wife for a German Emperor, she so English and insisted so strongly on her English ways. The result was that she was very unpopular in Germany, and the Germans said many wicked things of her. She hated Berlin, and if her son, the present Emperor, had not required that she should come to the capital every winter, she would have lived altogether at Cronberg in the villa an Italian friend bequeathed to her.
"She was extremely musical, had extensively cultivated her talents in this respect, and was an accomplished linguist. Like her mother, Queen Victoria, she was unusually strong-minded, and was always believed to rule over her amiable and gentle husband. Her interest in the English community was great, another reason for the dislike with which the Germans regarded her. To her the community owes the pretty little English church in the Mon Bijou Platz (Berlin), which she used to attend regularly, and where a funeral service, at which the Emperor was present, was held in memory of her.
"German feeling was further embittered against her by the Morell Mackenzie incident, and to this day controversy rages round the famous English surgeon's name. The controversy is as to whether or not Morell Mackenzie honestly believed what he said when he diagnosed the Emperor's illness as non-cancerous in opposition to the opinion of distinguished German doctors like Professor Bergmann. Under German law no one can mount the throne of Prussia who is afflicted with a mortal sickness. For long it had been suspected that the Emperor's throat was fatally affected, and, therefore, when King William was dying, it became of dynastic and national importance to establish the fact one way or other. Queen Victoria was ardently desirous of seeing her daughter an Empress, and sent Sir Morrell Mackenzie to Germany to examine the royal patient. On the verdict being given that the disease was not cancer, the Crown Prince mounted the throne, and Queen Victoria's ambition for her daughter was realized.
"The Empress also put the aristocracy against her by introducing several relaxations into Court etiquette which had up to her time been stiff and formal. Her relations with Bismarck, as is well known, were for many years strained, and on one occasion she made the remark that the tears he had caused her to shed 'would fill tumblers.' On the whole she was an excellent wife and mother. She was no doubt in some degree responsible for the admiration of England as a country and of the English as a people which is a marked feature of the Emperor's character."
This account is fairly correct in its estimation of the Empress Frederick's character and abilities, but it repeats a popular error in saying that German law lays down that no one can mount the Prussian throne if he is afflicted with a mortal sickness. There is no "German law" on the subject, and the law intended to be referred to is the so-called "house-law," which, as in the case of other German noble families, regulates the domestic concerns of the House of Hohenzollern. Bismarck disposes of the assertion that a Hohenzollern prince mortally stricken is not capable of succession as a "fable," and adds that the Constitution, too, contains no stipulation of the sort. The influence of his mother on the Emperor's character did not extend beyond his childhood, while probably the only natural dispositions he inherited from her were his strength of will and his appreciation of classical art and music. Many of her political ideas were diametrically opposed to those of her son. Her love of art made her pro-French, and her visit to Paris, it will be remembered, not being made _incognito_, led to international unpleasantness, originating in the foolish Chauvinism of some leading French painters whose ateliers she desired to inspect. She believed in a homogeneous German Empire without any federation of kingdoms and states, advocated a Constitution for Russia, and was satisfied that the common sense of a people outweighed its ignorance and stupidity.
The Emperor has four sisters and a brother. The sisters are Charlotte, born in 1860, and married to the Hereditary Prince of Saxe-Meiningen; Victoria, born in 1866, and married to Prince Adolphus of Schaumberg-Lippe; Sophie, born in 1870, and married to King Constantine, of Greece; and Margarete, born in 1872, and married to Prince Friederich Karl of Hessen.
The Emperor's only brother, Prince Henry of Prussia, was born in 1862, and is married to Princess Irene of Hessen. He is probably the most popular Hohenzollern to-day. He adopted the navy as a profession and devotes himself to its duties, taking no part in politics. Like the Emperor himself and the Emperor's heir, the Crown Prince, he is a great promoter of sport, and while a fair golfer (with a handicap of 14) and tennis player, gives much of his leisure to the encouragement of the automobile and other industries. Every Hohenzollern is supposed to learn a handicraft. The Emperor did not, owing to his shortened left arm. Prince Henry learned book-binding under a leading Berlin bookbinder, Herr Collin. The Crown Prince is a turner. Prince Henry seems perfectly satisfied with his position in the Empire as Inspector-General of the Fleet, stands to attention when talking to the Emperor in public, and on formal occasions addresses him as "Majesty" like every one else. Only in private conversation does he allow himself the use of the familiar _Du_. The Emperor has a strong affection for him, and always calls him "Heinrich."
Many stories are current in Germany relating to the early part of the Emperor's boyhood. Some are true, others partially so, while others again are wholly apochryphal. All, however, are more or less characteristic of the boy and his surroundings, and for this reason a selection of them may be given. Apropos of his birth, the following story is told. An artillery officer went to receive orders for the salute to be discharged when the birth occurred. They were given him by the then Prince Regent, afterwards Emperor William I. The officer showed signs of perplexity. "Well, is there anything else?" inquired the Regent. "Yes, Royal Highness; I have instructions for the birth of a prince and for that of a princess (which would be 30 guns); but what if it should be twins?" The Regent laughed. "In that case," he said, "follow the Prussian rule--_suum cuique_."
When the child was born the news ran like wildfire through Berlin, and all the high civil and military officials drove off in any vehicle they could find to offer their congratulations. The Regent, who was at the Foreign Office, jumped into a common cab. Immediately after him appeared tough old Field-Marshal Wrangel, the hero of the Danish wars. He wrote his name in the callers' book, and on issuing from the palace shouted to the assembled crowd, "Children, it's all right: a fine stout recruit." On the evening of the birth a telegram came from Queen Victoria, "Is it a fine boy?" and the answer went back, "Yes, a very fine boy."
Another story describes how the child was brought to submit cheerfully to the ordeal of the tub. He was "water-shy," like the vast majority of Germans at that time, and the nurses had to complain to his father, Crown Prince Frederick, of his resistance. The Crown Prince thereupon directed the sentry at the palace gate not to salute the boy when he was taken out for his customary airing. The boy remarked the neglect and complained to his father, who explained that "sentries were not allowed to present arms to an unwashed prince." The stratagem succeeded, and thereafter the lad submitted to the bathing with a good grace.
Like all boys, the lad was fond of the water, though now in another sense. At the age of two, nursery chroniclers relate, he had a toy boat, the _Fortuna_, in which he sat and see-sawed--and learned not to be sea-sick! At three he was put into sailor's costume, with the bell-shaped trousers so dear to the hearts of English mothers fifty years ago.
At the age of four he had a memorable experience, though it is hardly likely that now, after the lapse of half a century, he remembers much about it. This was his first visit to England in 1863, when he was taken by his parents to be present at the marriage of his uncle, King Edward VII, then Prince of Wales. The boy, in pretty Highland costume, was an object of general attention, and occupies a prominent place in the well-known picture of the wedding scene by the artist Frith. The ensuing fifteen years saw him often on English soil with his father and mother, staying usually at Osborne Castle, in the Isle of Wight. Here, it may be assumed, he first came in close contact with the ocean, watched the English warships passing up and down, and imbibed some of that delight in the sea which is not the least part of the heritage of Englishmen. The visits had a decided effect on him, for at ten we find him with a row-boat on the Havel and learning to swim, and on one occasion rowing a distance of twenty-five miles between 6 a.m. and 3 p.m. About this time he used to take part with his parents in excursions on the _Royal Louise_, a miniature frigate presented by George IV to Frederick William III.
Still another story concerns the boy and his father. The former came one day in much excitement to his tutor and said his father had just blamed him unjustly. He told the tutor what had really happened and asked him, if, under the circumstances, he was to blame. The tutor was in perplexity, for if he said the father had acted unjustly, as in fact he thought he had, he might lessen the son's filial respect. However, he gave his candid opinion. "My Prince," he said, "the greatest men of all times have occasionally made mistakes, for to err is human. I must admit I think your father was in the wrong." "Really!" cried the lad, who looked pained. "I thought you would tell me I was in the wrong, and as I know how right you always are I was ready to go to papa and beg his pardon. What shall I do now?" "Leave it to me," the tutor said, and afterwards told the Crown Prince what had passed. The Crown Prince sent for his son, who came and stood with downcast eyes some paces off. The Crown Prince only uttered the two words, "My son," but in a tone of great affection. As he folded the Prince in his arms he reached his hand to the tutor, saying, "I thank you. Be always as true to me and to my son as you have been in this case."
The last anecdote belongs also to the young Prince's private tutor days. At one time a certain Dr. D. was teaching him. Every morning at eleven work was dropped for a quarter of an hour to enable the pair, teacher and pupil, to take what is called in German "second breakfast." The Prince always had a piece of white bread and butter, with an apple, a pear, or other fruit, while the teacher was as regularly provided with something warm--chop, a cutlet, a slice of fish, salmon, perch, trout, or whatever was in season, accompanied by salad and potatoes. The smell of the meat never failed to appeal to the olfactory nerves of the Prince, and he often looked, longingly enough, at the luxuries served to his tutor. The latter noticed it and felt sorry for him; but there was nothing to be done: the royal orders were strict and could not be disobeyed. One day, however, the lesson, one of repetition, had gone so well that in a moment of gratitude the tutor decided to reward his pupil at all hazards. The lunch appeared, steaming "perch-in-butter" for the tutor, and a plate of bread and butter and some grapes for the pupil. The Prince cast a glance at the savoury dish and was then about to attack his frugal fare when the tutor suddenly said, "Prince, I'm very fond of grapes. Can't we for once exchange? You eat my perch and I--" The Prince joyfully agreed, plates were exchanged, and both were heartily enjoying the meal when the Crown Prince walked in. Both pupil and tutor blushed a little, but the Crown Prince said nothing and seemed pleased to hear how well the lesson had gone that day. At noon, however, as the tutor was leaving the palace, a servant stopped him and said, "His Royal Highness the Crown Prince would like to speak with the Herr Doktor."
"Herr Doktor," said the Crown Prince, "tell me how it was that the Prince to-day was eating the warm breakfast and you the cold."
The tutor tried to make as little of the affair as possible. It was a joke, he said, he had allowed himself, he had been so well pleased with his pupil that morning.
"Well, I will pass it over this time," said the Crown Prince,
"but I must ask you to let the Prince get accustomed to bear the preference shown to his tutor and allow him to be satisfied with the simple food suitable for his age. What will he eat twenty years hence, if he now gets roast meat? Bread and fruit make a wholesome and perfectly satisfactory meal for a lad of his years."
During second breakfast next day, the Prince took care not to look up from his plate of fruit, but when he had finished, murmured as though by way of grace, "After all, a fine bunch of grapes is a splendid lunch, and I really think I prefer it, Herr Doktor, to your nice-smelling perch-in-butter."
The time had now come when the young Prince was to leave the paternal castle and submit to the discipline of school. The parents, one may be sure, held many a conference on the subject. The boy was beginning to have a character of his own, and his parents doubtless often had in mind Goethe's lines:--
"Denn wir können die Kinder nach unserem Willen nicht formen, So wie Gott sie uns gab, so muss man sie lieben und haben, Sie erzielen aufs best und jeglichen lassen gewähren."
("We cannot have children according to our will: as God gave them so must we love and keep them: bring them up as best we can and leave each to its own development.")
It had always been Hohenzollern practice to educate the Heir to the Throne privately until he was of an age to go to the university, but the royal parents now decided to make an important departure from it by sending their boy to an ordinary public school in some carefully chosen place. The choice fell on Cassel, a quiet and beautiful spot not far from Wilhelmshohe, near Homburg, where there is a Hohenzollern castle, and which was the scene of Napoleon's temporary detention after the capitulation of Sedan. Here at the Gymnasium, or _lycée_, founded by Frederick the Great, the boy was to go through the regular school course, sit on the same bench with the sons of ordinary burghers, and in all respects conform to the Gymnasium's regulations. The decision to have the lad taught for a time in this democratic fashion was probably due to the influence of his English mother, who may have had in mind the advantages of an English public school. The experiment proved in every way successful, though it was at the time adversely criticized by some ultra-patriotic writers in the press. To the boy himself it must have been an interesting and agreeable novelty. Hitherto he had been brought up in the company of his brothers and sisters in Berlin or Potsdam, with an occasional "week-end" at the royal farm of Bornstedt near the latter, the only occasions when he was absent from home being sundry visits to the Grand Ducal Court at Karlsruhe, where the Grand Duchess was an aunt on his father's side, and to the Court at Darmstadt, where the Grand Duchess was an aunt on the side of his mother.
An important ceremony, however, had to be performed before his departure for school--his confirmation. It took place at Potsdam on September 1, 1874, amid a brilliant crowd of relatives and friends, and included the following formal declaration by the young Prince:
"I will, in childlike faith, be devoted to God all the days of my life, put my trust in Him and at all times thank Him for His grace. I believe in Jesus Christ, the Saviour and Redeemer. Him who first loved me I will love in return, and will show this love by love to my parents, my dear grandparents, my sisters and brothers and relatives, but also to all men. I know that hard tasks await me in life, but they will brace me up, not overcome me. I will pray to God for strength and develop my bodily powers."
The boy and his brother Henry stayed in Cassel for three years, in the winter occupying a villa near the Gymnasium with Dr. Hinzpeter, and in summer living in the castle of Wilhelmshohe hard by. Besides attending the usual school classes, they were instructed by private tutors in dancing, fencing, and music. Both pupils are represented as having been conscientious, and as moving among their schoolmates without affectation or any special consciousness of their birth or rank. Many years afterwards the Emperor, when revisiting Cassel, thus referred to his schooldays there:
"I do not regret for an instant a time which then seemed so hard to me, and I can truly say that work and the working life have become to me a second nature. For this I owe thanks to Cassel soil;"
and later in the same speech:
"I am pleased to be on the ground where, directed by expert hands, I learned that work exists not only for its own sake, but that man in work shall find his entire joy."
This is the right spirit; but if he had said "greatest joy" and "can find," he would have said something more completely true.