BERLIN, _May 1912_.

Dear L.,--On the 14th we had just returned from a long motor trip, arriving late in the evening. How fortunate that we did not arrive a day later! The next morning Johan was called on the telephone. The message was from Hamburg, to say that our King (Frederick VIII) had died there, suddenly in the night. Johan, of course, took the first train for Hamburg.

This was dreadful news.

The King was traveling with the Queen, Princess Thyra, Prince Gustave, and the usual suite. His Majesty had bade them good-night and retired--alas! not to his room, for he wished to take a stroll through the streets of the town. It was only at two o'clock that the valet noticed that the King had not been in his room. Then he alarmed the _Hof-Marshale_, who, with the other gentlemen, commenced a search. At five o'clock they found his Majesty in the _Krankenhaus_. He had fainted in the street and had been put into a cab, in which he died.

Johan stayed all the next day in Hamburg, accompanying the Queen on board the _Daneborg_ (the royal yacht), which had been sent to take the King's body back to Denmark.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE EMPEROR IN 1905 From an autographed photograph given to Madame de Hegermann-Lindencrone.]

The Queen was overwhelmed with grief, but showed the greatest self-control.

It has been a distressing time indeed for the d.u.c.h.ess of c.u.mberland.

She has lost her eldest son (killed in an automobile accident on the way to Schwerin to see his sister, the Grand d.u.c.h.ess) and now it is her brother who is taken so tragically. The young duke was very unwise to take that particular road. We had pa.s.sed over the same route, or tried to, on our way to pay a visit to the grand-ducal pair not more than two weeks before. Our chauffeur was appalled at the dreadful condition of the road and advised turning back. We made a great _detour_ and avoided an accident. The Duke was driving himself, and the ruts in the road made the car jump so that the wheel struck him under the chin, he lost control, and the machine struck a tree, killing the Duke instantly. The chauffeur was saved.

BERLIN.

Mr. Roosevelt and family arrived in Berlin three days ago. Society was on tiptoe with expectation. They talked of giving Arthur Nevin's Indian opera, "Poia," in order that the ex-President should have the thrill of seeing his compatriots in a German setting. This idea was abandoned, though Count Hulsen had accepted the opera and at an enormous expense had had it mounted at the Grand Opera.

The Kaiser received Mr. Roosevelt and was charmed with him, just as Mr. Roosevelt was charmed with the Kaiser. Of course, who could resist the magnetic forces of these two _dii ex machina_.

Amba.s.sador and Mrs. Hill gave a large and all-comprising reception at the Emba.s.sy in honor of their distinguished guest, which is much too small to contain the entire society of Berlin and _embrace_ (I like that word) all the American colony.

To gain a little more s.p.a.ce they very practically turned the _porte-cochere_ into a _vestiaire_, where we took off our mantles before crossing the carpet-covered carriage-drive.

Mr. Roosevelt was most amiable. He greeted people with a cordiality which bordered on _epanchement_--giving their hands a shaking the like of which they had never had before. Mr. Roosevelt remained by Mrs.

Hill's side and smiled kindly at the guests as they poured in and out of the _salon_. That was about all the guests did--pour in and pour out. One could not expect even the most favored to exchange more than a few words with the great man.

Our conversations were in the style of the reception, short and quickly done with.

MRS. HILL: "This is Madame de Hegermann. She is American, from Cambridge, Ma.s.sachusetts."

MR. ROOSEVELT: "Ah!... I am a Harvard man."

ME: "So am I! I mean I am a Harvard woman! I was born and brought up in Radcliffe College."

MR. R.: "Ah!" (_Puzzled, trying to match the possible date of my birth with the birth of Radcliffe College._)

ME: "Radcliffe College was my grandparents' home."

MR. R.: "Oh, I see! Well, madame, I am delighted to shake hands with any one from Cambridge."

Johan's was like this:

MRS. HILL: "Monsieur de Hegermann was Danish Minister in Washington some years ago."

MR. R.: "I am sorry I was not President then. Ha! ha! Pleased to have met you, sir!"

We were told that there would be speeches under the flag, but we poured out without anything of the kind occurring.

BERLIN, _1912_.

Dear L.,--It is not only the unexpected that arrives: the expected arrives also.

The news we have been expecting these last years arrived yesterday.

Diplomacy has decided to divorce us.

We are to leave Berlin.

Johan ought to have left the service four years ago. According to the _protocole_ in Denmark, a Minister must retire when he reaches the _d'age limite_--the Amba.s.sador retiring at the age of seventy.

The Prime Minister asked him to remain, and he did. But now it seems that the powers that be have decided.

It is very sad, but true.

Countess Brockdorf came to make me a visit of condolence. She said that her Majesty had begged her to express her regrets. In the course of the visit she asked me when my book[4] would come out, and when I told her that I thought in October she said, "I know that the Emperor is counting on your giving him a copy." I promised that I would not forget it.

[4] _In the Courts of Memory_, published in the autumn of 1912.

On the day fixed for Johan's audience to present his letters of recall we were invited to luncheon at Neues Palais with their Majesties. At Wildpark, the Emperor's private station, a few miles from Potsdam, we were met by his carriage and drove through the beautiful park to the palace. The carriage stopped at the princ.i.p.al entrance, where a broad red carpet was stretched from the carriage-drive to the door. Johan got out there. Then I was driven to the other side of the palace, where I found another red carpet. This was the entrance which leads to the Empress's suite of apartments.

Countess Keller (the lady of honor) was waiting for me and led me to the Empress.

Her Majesty was most gracious; no one could have been more so. We remained talking until a lackey announced that Johan's audience was finished and that the Emperor was waiting in the dining-room for us.

The Kaiserin kindly took me by the arm, and we went together into the adjoining _salon_, where we found the Emperor, the Princess Victoria Augusta, Johan, William von Kidderling (Minister of Foreign Affairs), who is always present at these official audiences, a chamberlain, an adjutant--not more than ten people in all.

The Kaiser, on seeing me, kissed my hand, and was, as usual, most kind and altogether delightful. I sat at his left, the young Princess being at his right. I tried to say how grieved we were at the idea of leaving Berlin, where we had spent ten happy years. He was gracious enough to say that both he and the Empress were very sorry to lose us.

He said many appreciative things about what I had written in _Harper's_, and asked many questions showing that he had really read them. He seemed interested to hear about the Emperor Napoleon and the life at Compiegne. He said that he met Empress Eugenie for the first time when in Norway, three years ago. He had made a visit to her on her yacht, and she had "honored" him by taking tea with him on the _Hohenzollern_. He said, "How beautiful she must have been when she was young!"

"I saw her," I replied, "last spring at her villa at Cape Martin. She is _still_ beautiful, though she is eighty years old."

"Eighty years!" cried the Kaiser, "and still a _charmeuse_! That is unique."

All through luncheon I was thinking that this was the last time I should be talking to the interesting and wonderful _charmeur_ who was sitting next to me. The Kaiser has a way of fixing those discerning gray eyes of his on you when he talks, and you have the feeling that he is sifting and weighing you in his mind--and when he smiles his face lights up with humor and interest. You feel as if a life-buoy were keeping you afloat. He has that wonderful gift of making people appear at their best. I gave him my book after luncheon. It looks very fitting in its red morocco binding. He appeared greatly delighted with it and begged me to write my name on the first page, which, of course, I was happy to do.

The Empress exclaimed: "'Do give me one, too! Once the Emperor has it, I shall never get it."

The Kaiser's last words to us were, "Promise not to forget Berlin!"

Forget Berlin--never!