Count Richard Dohna is a great breeder of blooded horses, a magnificent whip, and the accidents which happened to the kaiser, while out driving with him, were merely due to the fact that in each case the horses were too young, and not sufficiently broken in.  On one occasion, the drag was upset into a ditch not far from Schlobitten, the kaiser and the count being severely bruised and shaken up; while at another time a splendid team got beyond the control of the count, smashed harnesses and pole, and dashed helter-skelter into the little town of Proeckelwitz, where they were fortunately stopped without further mishap.

The intimacy of the kaiser with the Dohna family serves to recall the fact that there was a daughter of this house, Countess Anna Dohna, who claimed to have become the wife of the late Emperor William.  She lived for a time in London, Geneva, and then in New York, and was wont to style herself Countess Dohna-Brandenburg, having added the name of Brandenburg to that of Dohna by reason of this alleged marriage.

While in New York she lived in a large house in Lexington Avenue, which she furnished handsomely, and she never seemed to be in want of money.  According to her own story she met the late Emperor William in 1825, during the lifetime of his father, King Frederick-William III., when she was sixteen years of age.  After several clandestine meetings, she claimed that they were married late one night at Clegnitz, in Silesia, by a young country parson.  The latter did not know the prince, who gave the name of William Count Brandenburg, and his occupation as that of an officer of the Royal Guards.  The marriage certificate was duly made out, and then her husband told her that it would be expedient to keep their union secret for a time.  To this she reluctantly assented.

When at length, urged by her entreaties, her husband revealed their marriage to his father, King Frederick-William III., he flew into a terrible rage, forced him to sign a renunciation of the countess’s hand, and she was conveyed to a small castle near Koenigsberg, in East-Prussia, where she was kept a close prisoner for years.  In 1837, always according to her story, she succeeded in escaping, and crossing the Polish frontier reached Warsaw, where in the following year she was recognized at a state performance of the opera given by Czar Nicholas, in honor of the King of Prussia and Prince William, who were visiting the Russian Court.

She was arrested at the theatre, and on the following morning conveyed to Eastern Russia, where she was kept under strict surveillance until the death of Frederick-William III., in 1840, led to her release.  She was then permitted to return to Prussia, and the new king, Frederick-William IV., offered to compromise the matter with her.  This she refused to do.  Her father’s death placed her in possession of a large fortune, and she spent several years in travelling.

In 1848 she intended to appeal to the Prussian National Assembly for justice, but the police got wind of it, and she was interned in her chateau in Silesia.  On William becoming King of Prussia, she was given the alternative of leaving the country or of becoming an inmate of a lunatic asylum, so she transferred her abode to Paris, and after living for awhile in London and Geneva, came to New York in 1876.