CHAPTER VIII

Great is the contrast between the Court of Berlin to-day and the aspect which it presented during the closing years of the reign of old Emperor William, and were any of the latter’s familiars to return to the place where so much of their existence had been spent, they would indeed find themselves amidst strange surroundings and strange faces.  In those days, grey and white hair were the rule rather than the exception.  To-day the contrary is the case, and not merely do the dignitaries of the court and of the army belong to a younger generation, but also the members of the imperial circle, that is to say, the princes and princesses of the blood, with whom the emperor and empress associate as kinsfolk and near relatives.

The few older members of the reigning house of Prussia who survive—­the contemporaries of the grandfather and father of William II.—­find the atmosphere of the court so different from what they have been accustomed to in the past, so out of keeping with their ideas—­in one word, feel themselves so little at home there, that they prefer to stay away as much as they can.  Thus Prince Albert of Prussia, one of the grandest looking soldiers of the imperial army, and certainly one of the most gigantic in stature, divides his time between Brunswick, where he holds a court of his own as regent, and England, where he is accustomed to spend his holidays.  The widowed Princess Frederick-Charles lives nearly all the year round in Italy with her chamberlain, Baron Wangenheim, whom she is understood to have morganatically married, and in whose company she occasionally visits the pope, a circumstance which has led to the rumor that she has joined the Church of Rome.  The widowed Empress Frederick is either at her lovely castle of Kronberg, near Homburg, which is stocked from garret to cellar with those art treasures of which she is one of the finest connaisseuses in Europe, or else is traveling about in Italy, Austria or England.  Indeed the only contemporary of the old Emperor who still remains at Berlin, and who is occasionally to be seen at court, giving one the impression of a spectre of the past, is Prince George, who bears a startling resemblance to the old kaiser particularly when arrayed in uniform.

While slightly eccentric, he is remarkably accomplished, and has not only written a number of German plays over the pen-name of “George Conrad,” which have been successfully staged in Germany, but is even the author of a drama written in the purest and most exquisitely correct French, sparkling with Parisian wit and brilliancy, which has had long runs in many theatres without either the actors or the public being aware that it was from the pen of a prince of Prussia.