The gala opera in the evening was like all the other gala operas I have described. At eight o'clock every one had a.s.sembled 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 pa.s.sed Gotha, where we lunched, and pa.s.sed 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 ca.n.a.ls. 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 _cafe_, 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 b.u.t.toned between two coa.r.s.e 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 _chateaux_ 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 _legation 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 ma.s.sed 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 Emba.s.sy 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 b.a.l.l.s and dinners, and stand behind the chairs of the royal personages at the table.

[Ill.u.s.tration: COUNT HATZFELDT From a recent photograph. He was Prime Minister of Germany and German Amba.s.sador to London, brother-in-law of Madame de Hegermann-Lindencrone.

The picture shows over sixty decorations, all the important ones of Europe, which have been given him. It is custom that the decorations of orders in diamonds are kept by the family after the death of the recipient. All other orders go back to the governments bestowing them.]

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.

"Sardanapal" was the play chosen by the Emperor for this performance.

I thought it very interesting to look at, but impossible to understand. It was a combination of orchestral music, choruses, and pantomime. A dreadful-looking Nubian came out before the curtain between acts and told us in German poetry what was going to happen.

The Emperor had taken a great interest in the play, and had indicated all the costumes himself. Every dress was a study and entirely correct, you may be sure, if the Kaiser had anything to do with it.

The ornaments which the actors wore were copied from specimens in the museums. The scenery was very fine, and when Sardanapal was burned up, with his wives and collection of gold and silver things, the whole stage seemed to be on fire. This almost created a panic, and would have done so if the audience had not seen that their Majesties sat calmly in their seats. It was very realistic. The Emperor told me afterward in the foyer that the flames were nothing but chiffon, lighted with electric lights, and blown up with a fan from beneath.

When the fire had done its work there was nothing left upon the stage but red-hot coals and smoldering _debris_. It was all very well, if we only had been spared the lugubrious man with the beard made of tight black curls, who did the talking.

The next day the luncheon in honor of their English Majesties at the English Amba.s.sador's, Sir Edward Goschen, was full of emotion. King Edward wore the uniform belonging to his German regiment, which, besides being b.u.t.toned tightly and apparently much padded, has a high and tight collar. He had received a deputation of most of the English colony and already looked wearied before we went in to luncheon. This was served in the ballroom, and was a long and elaborate affair. The King sat opposite the Queen, and Sir Edward and Lady Goschen sat at either end of the table. All the princes, the German n.o.bility, and ministers of state were present.

The King apparently had a good appet.i.te, and talked with his neighbors right and left and opposite, and seemed to enjoy himself. When we re-entered the drawing-room the King lit an enormous cigar and, seating himself on a low sofa, talked and smoked, when suddenly he threw his head back against the sofa, as if gasping for breath. The Queen, who was on the other side of the room, rushed instantly to the King and quickly unb.u.t.toned his collar and opened his coat. The two English physicians who had come with the King were finishing luncheon in another room. They were instantly called in, and they begged the guests to leave the _salon_ in order that the King might have more air. The King had not fainted, but on account of the tight collar, the heat of the room, the big cigar, and the violent fit of coughing, it was almost impossible for him to get his breath. The physicians helped him up from the low sofa into a high chair, and took away the cigar; but the King, as soon as he could speak, said, "Give me another cigar." The physicians protested, but the King insisted upon the cigar, which they were obliged to give him. The guests returned, and the conversation rallied for a while, but the emotion of the few moments before could not be easily calmed.

The King left the room quietly, hardly any one seeing him, reached the automobile, and drove to the castle. The Queen followed him a few moments later.

We were prepared to receive notice at any moment that the ball fixed for that evening would be countermanded. But it was not, and at eight o'clock--the hour one goes to court b.a.l.l.s here--found every one a.s.sembled. As usual, we took our places on the platform reserved for the ladies of the _Corps Diplomatique_, and then, with the ceremonial which I have so often described, their Majesties, preceded by the pages and court notables, entered. The Emperor gave his arm to Queen Alexandra, and the Empress entered with King Edward. It is customary for the Emperor and the Empress to make a tour of the invited guests, but this evening the royal persons stayed on the throne and did not move during the dances.

King Edward and the Queen supped at the table of the Emperor, and immediately afterward retired to their rooms and were seen no more.

During the whole evening they had not spoken to a single person.

The next morning their Majesties took their departure from the Lehrter station. We went to bid them good-by. The Emperor, in speaking to me, said, "You know, my uncle had such a fright the other night when he saw the fire, he wanted to leave the theater; it was only when I told him that the flames were chiffon that I could quiet him."

When King Edward bade me good-by he said, "Please remember me to Countess Raben," and added, laughingly, "I mean the daughter."

Saint-Saens and Ma.s.senet came to Berlin to a.s.sist at a sort of _Congres de musique_. Ma.s.senet was invited to lead the orchestra in "Manon," and Saint-Saens that of "Samson and Delilah." They accepted an invitation to lunch at our house, and I was delighted to see them again. They had come, they said, with prejudices on fire. They were sure that they would dislike everything German; but, having been begged to visit the Kaiser in his _loge_ after the performance, they came away from the interview burning with enthusiasm. How charming the Emperor was! How full of interest! So natural! etc., etc. They could not find words for their admiration. That is the way with the Emperor.

He charms every one.

The first of my articles about Compiegne appeared in _Harper's Magazine_ in the summer. At the ball at court in the following January the Kaiser came to speak to me, his face beaming with the kindest of smiles.

"I can't tell you how I have enjoyed your articles, I read them to myself and read them out loud to the Empress."

"How," said I "did your Majesty discover them?"

"I have always taken _Harper's Magazine_, ever since I was a little boy. You may imagine how astonished I was when I saw something from your pen. Your description of Napoleon the Third is quite historical.

You gave me a new idea of him. In many ways I always regret that I never saw him. I could have once, when I was quite small. I was with my parents at Nice, and the Emperor came there, but I did not see him."