CHAPTER XXIX

MEETING THE GERMAN EMPEROR

My first Rectorial Address to the students of St. Andrews University attracted the attention of the German Emperor, who sent word to me in New York by Herr Ballin that he had read every word of it.  He also sent me by him a copy of his address upon his eldest son’s consecration.  Invitations to meet him followed; but it was not until June, 1907, that I could leave, owing to other engagements.  Mrs. Carnegie and I went to Kiel.  Mr. Tower, our American Ambassador to Germany, and Mrs. Tower met us there and were very kind in their attentions.  Through them we met many of the distinguished public men during our three days’ stay there.

The first morning, Mr. Tower took me to register on the Emperor’s yacht.  I had no expectation of seeing the Emperor, but he happened to come on deck, and seeing Mr. Tower he asked what had brought him on the yacht so early.  Mr. Tower explained he had brought me over to register, and that Mr. Carnegie was on board.  He asked: 

“Why not present him now?  I wish to see him.”

I was talking to the admirals who were assembling for a conference, and did not see Mr. Tower and the Emperor approaching from behind.  A touch on my shoulder and I turned around.

“Mr. Carnegie, the Emperor.”

It was a moment before I realized that the Emperor was before me.  I raised both hands, and exclaimed: 

“This has happened just as I could have wished, with no ceremony, and the Man of Destiny dropped from the clouds.”

Then I continued:  “Your Majesty, I have traveled two nights to accept your generous invitation, and never did so before to meet a crowned head.”

Then the Emperor, smiling—­and such a captivating smile: 

“Oh! yes, yes, I have read your books.  You do not like kings.”

“No, Your Majesty, I do not like kings, but I do like a man behind a king when I find him.”

“Ah! there is one king you like, I know, a Scottish king, Robert the Bruce.  He was my hero in my youth.  I was brought up on him.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, so was I, and he lies buried in Dunfermline Abbey, in my native town.  When a boy, I used to walk often around the towering square monument on the Abbey—­one word on each block in big stone letters ’King Robert the Bruce’—­with all the fervor of a Catholic counting his beads.  But Bruce was much more than a king, Your Majesty, he was the leader of his people.  And not the first; Wallace the man of the people comes first.  Your Majesty, I now own King Malcolm’s tower in Dunfermline[79]—­he from whom you derive your precious heritage of Scottish blood.  Perhaps you know the fine old ballad, ‘Sir Patrick Spens.’

[Footnote 79:  In the deed of trust conveying Pittencrieff Park and Glen to Dunfermline an unspecified reservation of property was made.  The “with certain exceptions” related to King Malcolm’s Tower.  For reasons best known to himself Mr. Carnegie retained the ownership of this relic of the past.]