"WITH THE GERMAN ARMIES IN THE WEST"—VISITS TO THE GENERAL STAFF

Told by Sven Hedin, Noted Swedish Explorer—Authorized Translation from, the Swedish by H. G. Dewalterstorff

This is one of the most remarkable narratives of the War. It is a great historical record, as well as a fascinating story of personal experiences. Dr. Sven Hedin is one of the great Swedish explorers and historians. His record as a man of intrepid daring is known throughout Europe. By special permission of the Kaiser, Dr. Hedin was commissioned to visit and observe the German Armies in Belgium and France. He is the friend of Kings and was received with open arms at the headquarters of the general staff of the German Army. These experiences he describes in a volume entitled "With the German Armies in the West," which is one of the few War books which has been accepted by the German government as a true record. Dr. Hedin's talks with the Kaiser, the Crown Prince, and the Army Officers, with his journeys along the battle grounds of the Western front, allow us to look behind the scenes for the first time. A few selections from his remarkable tales are here given by permission of his publishers John Lane Company.

[2] I—"ON MY WAY TO WILHELMSTRASSE, BERLIN"

The rain falls thick and heavy and patters down on the dripping lines outside my balcony. Berlin is dull and miserable in the autumn when the rain sweeps its long, monotonously straight streets with their heavy, dark houses. Not even the trooping of the colors and the march past at midday raise the drooping spirits, and only a few pedestrians with open umbrellas join the band and march in step with the soldiers. No calls are made, no visits paid, for the whole of the aristocracy is in mourning for lost relatives and everybody's thoughts are centered on the war. Nobody feels inclined for the futile pleasures of ordinary times when the newspapers speak of a father who has lost four sons at the front, or of a mother whose three sons have each died a hero's death for Emperor and country. But no complaints are heard, no tears seen. In the streets one seldom sees signs of mourning. There is perhaps a tacit convention not to express in black and white the sorrow which is felt at the bottom of the heart, but to make the grief subservient to the proud consciousness that the beloved one has fallen for his country, never to return!...

But the rain keeps on falling and beats against the window-panes. I hurry downstairs, jump into a taxi and in a few minutes I am sitting in an elegant drawing-room at the dainty new residence of the Swedish Minister, at the corner of Friedrich Wilhelmstrasse and Tiergartenstrasse, chatting with old friends—needless to say, about the war. When I last met Count Taube in Berlin, I had just returned from a long journey in the Far East. Now I stood on the threshold of a new journey, which might be infinitely longer than the last! Later in the day I visited another nobleman, Prince von Wedel, whom I had met in Vienna when he was ambassador there, and in Strassburg when he was Governor. We had much to talk about, but what is there to discuss in these days but the great and bloody drama which occupies everyone's thoughts—the War!

My most important visit in Berlin was to the Foreign Office. But before narrating what took place there I must say a few words about the reasons which led up to my journey. It was desirable that no one in a responsible position in Sweden should have an inkling of my journey to the front. Our country belonged to the neutral states, and thus no authority must entertain the slightest shadow of suspicion that I was traveling on any sort of secret mission. No,—the reason was a very simple one. Only a few days' journey away the greatest war of all time was being waged. It was clear that the outcome of this struggle would decide the political development for the next fifty or hundred years, or perhaps longer. In any case its shadows must envelop the remainder of the lives of the present generation....

Once this war is over, whole libraries of books will be written about it. I do not think it an exaggeration to say that on the western front alone upwards of a million and a half diaries are being kept at the present moment. In all directions, in all fighting units down to the company, the platoon and the battery, official war journals are being kept and accounts of the fighting are being prepared from the bedrock furnished on the one hand by the draft of outgoing reports and on the other by incoming papers, orders, reports and communications. The soldiers record their own personal experiences, the officers their military observations. Many a notebook has no doubt protected a heart or checked the death-dealing bullet. Thus the sections of the German General Staff, whose task it will be in due course to prepare the materials, will be occupied for many years to come with this monumental labor.

When I went out to the front, it was clearly established in my mind that my narrative would be quite different from the military accounts. I was not going to devote any attention to matters of purely military science, which could only be dealt with by experts.

II—"I MEET HERR VON ZIMMERMANN"

I am standing on the doorstep and ringing the bell at the Foreign Office at 76 Wilhelmstrasse, Berlin.

The Under Secretary of State, Herr von Zimmermann, who is acting Foreign Minister in Berlin whilst His Excellency von Jagow is at the Main Headquarters, received me with open arms and said that all he knew was that I was to proceed straightway to the said Headquarters.

"But where are the Main Headquarters?" I asked.

"That is a secret," Herr von Zimmermann answered, with a smile.

"Good, but how am I to get there?"

"Oh, the Chief of the Great General Staff, Colonel-General von Moltke, has given instructions that a car is to be kept at your disposal. You may decide yourself when you would like to start. An officer and an orderly will accompany you, and if you like you can travel to the Main Headquarters day and night without stopping, or you can choose your own road and time. In fact, you are at liberty to do as you like."

"And afterwards?"

"After that your fate will rest in the hands of His Excellency von Moltke. No doubt he will map out a plan for your journey. The only thing you have to think about now is to get to him."

"And where shall I find the car?"

"This paper will tell you."

Herr von Zimmermann handed me a permit from the Great General Staff which read as follows: "The bearer of this permit is entitled to use the relays of the Imperial Volunteer Automobile Corps to the Main Headquarters. Everything that can in any way expedite his journey is to be placed at his disposal."

III—"MY ARRIVAL AT THE GREAT GENERAL STAFF IN LUXEMBURG"

Still as ignorant regarding the whereabouts of the Main Headquarters as when we left Berlin, we set out from Treves in the morning of the 18th of September, recrossed the Moselle, and cast a glance up at the heights from which on August 4th Frenchmen in mufti were heliographing to the airships, who wanted to know how the German mobilization was getting on. At the flying station we stopped a moment to have a look at the Taubes in their canvas sheds....

Now we begin to look about. Yes, it is obvious that the Main Headquarters are still at Luxemburg. Sentries at the entrances to all hotels, soldiers everywhere, officers rushing past in motor-cars. In a market-place large tents have been put up for horses, and round them walk the sentries smoking their pipes; in another open space there are rows of motor-cars laden with petrol and oil in cylinders.

We must observe becoming military precision in our search and consequently make at once for the house where the Great General Staff has taken up its quarters, and which in ordinary times is a Luxemburg school. Von Krum gets down and soon returns with the intimation that we must report ourselves to a Lieutenant-Colonel Hahnke. He sent us off to the Chief of the General Staff, His Excellency von Moltke, who with his charming Swedish Countess has just sat down to dinner at the Kölnischer Hof, where they reside. The Countess was on a short visit to Luxemburg in the service of the Red Cross. Here I felt almost as if I were at home, for I had many times been a guest in their hospitable home in Berlin. As calm as if he had been on manoeuvers, the Chief lit his cigar and made detailed enquiries about my plans and wishes. I said I wanted to go to the front and see as much as I might be allowed to, mentioning that it was my intention subsequently to describe what I had seen of the war with my own eyes. If possible I wanted to get an impression of a modern battle, and hoped also to get an opportunity of visiting the occupied parts of Belgium.

The Chief thought for a moment. Permission to visit the front had already been granted to me by the Emperor, and it only remained to decide which would be the best place for me to begin my observations. The army of the German Crown Prince was the nearest, only a couple of hours away. The Chief would arrange everything for my journey, and I was shortly to receive details of the programme. "Of course, there can be no question of safety in the fighting zone," he said, "it is not far away. If you listen you can hear the thunder of guns from Verdun."...

It would take too long to describe all the interesting acquaintances I made in Luxemburg and to introduce to the reader all the eminent men with whom I spoke during the two days I spent in this little town. Suffice it to mention the Imperial Chancellor von Bethmann Holweg, the Foreign Minister von Jagow, the War Minister Lieutenant-General von Falkenhayn, and the Chief of the Imperial Volunteer Automobile Corps the young Prince Waldemar, son of Prince Henry.

The Main Headquarters are the head or rather the brain of the army in the field, where all plans are made and from which all orders are issued. It is an incredibly complicated apparatus with an organization of which every detail has been prepared in advance. When an apparatus of this kind is installed in a small town like Luxemburg, all hotels, schools, barracks, Government offices, as well as a number of private houses, have to be requisitioned for billets. The invaded country has no alternative but to resign itself to its fate. But nothing is taken promiscuously, everything will be made good after the war. The War Ministry is housed in an hotel, the General Staff—as already mentioned—in a school, the officers of the automobile corps, in a private house, and so on. The Commander-in-Chief, von Moltke, resided at the Kölnischer Hof, the Imperial Chancellor and the Foreign Minister in an exceptionally elegant private house, whilst the Emperor's personal staff and suite were stopping at the Hotel Staar, where a room was also placed at my disposal....

IV—"AN INVITATION TO DINE WITH THE EMPEROR"

Directly I arrived in Luxemburg, I was honored with an invitation to dine with the Emperor William the following day at one o'clock. Most of the guests were stopping at the Hotel Staar, and the cars were to leave there in good time. I went with Adjutant-General, Lieutenant-General von Gontard, Acting General à la suite. The street close to the Imperial residence was railed off, the barriers being withdrawn by the soldiers to let our car pass. The Emperor lived in the house of the German Minister and had his private apartments on the first floor. On the ground floor was the chancellerie, where enormous maps of the theaters of war were mounted on easels, and next to it was the dining-room, quite a small apartment.

The guests, all in field uniform, without any display, for-gathered in the chancellerie. I myself was dressed in the most flagrant, everyday clothes—in the field nothing is carried for show. Among the Emperor's suite I recognized a couple of old acquaintances, the Headquarters Commandant, Adjutant-General, Colonel-General von Plessen, and the President of the Navy Council, Admiral von Müller, of Swedish descent, who spoke Swedish as fluently as German. The others were his Excellency von Treutler and Lieutenant-General Baron Marschall, Colonel von Mutius, acting aide-de-camp, the Princes Pless and Arnim and the Emperor's body-physician, Dr. Ilberg. We were thus ten all told.

V—"THE DOOR OPENED ... EMPEROR WILLIAM ENTERED"

At the stroke of one the door from the vestibule was opened and Emperor William entered with a firm, quiet step. All glances were fixed on the strongly built, well-knit figure. The room became as quiet as the grave. One realized that one was in the presence of a great personality. The little room, otherwise so humble, now had a deeper significance. Here was the axis, the pivot round which the world's happenings turned. Here was the center from which the war was directed. Germany is to be crushed, so say its enemies. "Magst ruhig sein,"[3] says the German army to its Fatherland. And here in our midst stands its supreme war-lord, a picture of manliness, resolution and honorable frankness. Around him flit the thoughts and passions of the whole world. He is the object of love, blind confidence and admiration, but also of fear, hate and calumny. Round him, who loves peace, rages the greatest war of all times, and his name is ringed with strife....

Any feeling of timidity one may have had whilst waiting for the most powerful and most remarkable man in the world vanished completely once the Emperor, after a more than hearty handshake and a cheery welcome, began to speak. His voice is manly and military, he speaks extraordinarily plainly without slurring over a single syllable, he is never at a loss for a word, but always strikes the nail on the head—often in exceedingly forceful terms. He punctuates his sentences with quick and expressive gestures. His speech flows smoothly, is always terse and interesting and is often suddenly interrupted by questions delivered with lightning precision, which one must endeavor to answer equally quickly and clearly. A good answer never fails to elicit the Emperor's approval. He is exceedingly impulsive and his conversation is a mixture of earnest and jest. A ready repartee or an amusing tale causes him to laugh so heartily that his shoulders shake with it.

At the Emperor's bidding we passed into the dining-room. Admiral von Müller sat on the left, I on the right of our august host, and opposite him was Adjutant-General von Gontard. The table was simply laid. The only luxury that could be discovered was a bell of gold placed in front of the Emperor's cover, and which he rang when a new course was to be brought in. The dinner was equally plain, consisting of soup, meat with vegetables, a sweet dish and fruit with claret. I have seldom been as hungry as when I rose from this table: not on account of the dishes, but because there had not been a moment's silence up to the time when the bell rang for the last time and bade the uniformed servants withdraw our chairs as we rose. The Emperor talked to me all the time. He began by reminding me of my last lecture in Berlin, at which he was present, and he conjectured that Tibet, where I had passed through such stirring times, would probably soon be the only country in the world where peace reigned. Then we spoke of the political position and of the storms that are sweeping over Europe....

On a table in the chancellerie were cigars and cigarettes round a lighted candle. Here the conversation was continued with zest and vigor, and jest and earnest, horrors of war and funny stories were all jumbled together; finally the Emperor took his leave, wishing me a successful and instructive trip, and went up to his apartments, where no doubt piles of papers and letters, reports and telegrams awaited him.

The talk of the Emperor having aged during the war, and of the war with all its labors and anxieties having sapped his strength and health, is all nonsense. His hair is no more pronouncedly iron gray than before the war, his face has color, and far from being worn and thin, he is plump and strong, bursting with energy and rude health. A man of Emperor William's stamp is in his element when, through the force of circumstances, he is compelled to stake all he possesses and above all himself for the good and glory of his country.

VI—"I GO TO SEE THE CROWN PRINCE"

I returned to the Hotel Staar just in time to meet the young lieutenant who had been instructed by General Moltke to take me to the Headquarters of the Crown Prince's Army. His name was Hans von Gwinner and he is the son of the great banker and Bagdad Railway magnate in Berlin. He was a wide-awake and capable young fellow and drove his car himself. I sat down beside him, whilst the orderly accompanying us took his seat inside.

It poured with rain as we left the town. The road was slippery, but we had studded tires and the lieutenant drove at terrific speed. We had started off rather late and we wanted to get in before dark. It is better thus, otherwise one is not entirely safe from the attentions of franctireurs. A whole lot of them had recently been caught by the Fifth Army and shot without hesitation....

We stop outside the house in which the General in Command of the 5th Army has taken up his quarters. I was able to speak there without difficulty to one of my friends from the Main Headquarters, Landrat Baron von Maltzahn, Member of the Reichstag and a personal friend of the Crown Prince. He was able to give me the welcome news that I was expected and that I must hurry in order to be in time for supper, which was served at eight o'clock. So we drove at once up to the little French château, where His I. & R. Highness had elected to stay. Here I said good-bye to my excellent friend Lieutenant von Gwinner and thanked him for his companionship. Thus he, too, disappears from my horizon, and I stand before a new association of acquaintances and friendships.

Footmen in military uniforms at once took charge of my baggage and conducted me to my room on the first floor, next door to the Crown Prince's private apartments. A few minutes before eight the acting Lord-in-Waiting, Court-Marshal von Behr, knocked at my door. He was a pleasant young man of distinguished and attractive appearance, and he had come to bring me in to supper. We went out through the upper vestibule and down the stairs, from the landing of which we were fortunate enough to witness a pleasing ceremony. In the lower hall stood a number of officers in line, and opposite them some twenty soldiers formed up in the same way. Then came the Crown Prince William, tall, slim and royally straight, dressed in a dazzling white tunic and wearing the Iron Cross of the first and second class; he walked with a firm step between the lines of soldiers. An adjutant followed him, carrying in a casket a number of Iron Crosses. The Crown Prince took one and handed it to the nearest officer, whom he thanked for the services which he had rendered to his Emperor and country, and then with a hearty handshake he congratulated the hero whom he had thus honored.

When all the officers had received their decorations, the reward for their bravery, the turn came of the soldiers, the ceremony being precisely the same as with the officers; but I found it hard to distinguish what the soldiers said in their loud, rough and nervous voices. At last I distinguished the words: Danke untertänigst Kaiserliche Hoheit (I humbly thank your Imperial Highness).

VII—"AT SUPPER WITH THE CROWN PRINCE"

When the knights of the Iron Cross had taken their departure, we went down into the hall, where the Crown Prince stepped up to me and bade me heartily welcome to his Headquarters and to the seat of war. The meal, which might as well have been called dinner as supper, was attended by the following gentlemen: Lieutenant-General Schmidt von Knobelsdorff, Chief of Staff of the 5th Army, Court-Marshal von Behr, Chief of the Medical Corps, Body-Physician Professor Widenmann, Majors von der Planitz, von Müller, personal Adjutant to H.I. & R.H., and Heymann, Lieutenant von Zobeltitz and a few members of the Staff, who arrived later after the day's work in the field and took their seats at the lower end of the table.

Would you like to know what the German Crown Prince, the Crown Prince of Prussia, eats for supper? Here is the menu: cabbage soup, boiled beef with horseradish and potatoes, wild duck with salad, fruit, wine, and coffee with cigars. And what would you say the conversation was about? It is hard to say exactly, but we traveled over almost the whole world with the ease bred by familiarity. The Crown Prince, like the Emperor, began with Tibet, and from there it was but a step across the Himalayas to the palms of the Hugli Delta, the pagodas of Benares, the silver moonlight over Taj Mahal, the tigers of the jungle and the music of the crystal waves of India beating against the rocks of Malabar point. We also spoke of old unforgettable memories and of common friends who now love us no longer—of the brave and famous Kitchener, the conqueror of Omdurman and South Africa, of the Maharajahs and their fairy-like splendor at Bikanir, Kutch Behar, Gwalior, Kashmir and Idar.

We also talked about the war and its horrors, and the terrible sacrifices it demands. "But it cannot be helped," said the Crown Prince, "our Fatherland asks us to give all we have, and we will, we must win, even if the whole world takes up arms against us."

"Is not the calm here wonderful! We seem to be living to-night in the most absolute peace, and yet it is but a couple of hours' drive to the firing line," observes my Imperial host after listening to a short, concise and satisfactory report made in a ringing voice by an officer who has just entered. "Yes, your Imperial Highness, I had imagined the Staff Headquarters of an army to resemble a buzzing beehive, but now that I have the reality before me, I find no trace of anxiety or nervousness, nothing but calm and assurance everywhere. But what I should like to see most of all would be a battle, for I suspect that in common with most other civilians I have formed an erroneous opinion on this subject."

The Crown Prince smiles and answers: "Yes, battle painters like Neuville and Détaille would have little use for their art in these days. Of the fighting men one sees practically nothing, for they are concealed by the ground and in the trenches, and it is rather dangerous to get too close to a bayonet charge—unless one's duty takes one there."

What life and spirit at the Crown Prince's Headquarters! Everything was gay with the freshness of youth, and devoid of restraint. No trace of the stiffness of court ceremonial. Even General Schmidt, who usually maintained the strictest discipline, was infected by the prevailing spirit of camaradie. But owing to the terrible burden of work which rested on the shoulders of the Chief of Staff, it was not unusual for him to come in for his meals after the others. The supper, or rather the talk after it, went on till about eleven—these were the only hours when one could meet in quiet, for during the day everyone was busy with his duties, and the Crown Prince then occupied his post as commanding officer at suitable points at the front.

The château where we were staying belonged to an aristocratic French lady—if I remember rightly her name was du Vernier. When the war broke out she moved to Bordeaux. On her return after the contest she will find her château, her estates and the beautiful park in the same condition as when she went away. There was a certain aristocratic grandeur about the château, though signs of decay were already making themselves apparent. On the mantelpiece in my room stood a pendulum clock of gilt bronze of an antique mythological design, and on each side stood a couple of gorgeous candelabra. The walls were decorated with a few unassuming pictures, amongst them a portrait of an old French warrior.

I open my window, it is pitch-dark outside, and the rain falls close and heavy upon the trees and lawns outside. Tired after a somewhat ambitious day's work, I hurry to bed, the more so as I suspect the next day's programme to be no less exacting....

VIII—WITH THE GERMAN SOLDIERS—"TO VICTORY OR DEATH"

But events move all too fast. Observations and impressions follow so quickly upon one another that it is difficult to assimilate them all. The whole road is full of supply columns moving southward, and we meet innumerable empty transport lorries on the way north, to be reloaded at some railway station. Here we also see fresh young troops, all strapping fellows, who have come direct from Germany to go straight to victory or death. All are jolly and eager; truly, they look as if the whole affair were to them but an autumn manœuver, and as if they felt no trace of excitement. They march along with easy bearing and sing merry soldiers' ditties under the leaden skies now darkening this unhappy, bleeding France. They light their pipes and their eternal cigarettes, laugh and chat—as if they were going to a picnic in the country. In reality they are going out to fill the gaps made by the French fire in the ranks of their comrades. They are Ersatstruppen, i.e., reinforcements, but I do not see a single face which betrays the slightest feeling that death is near. They hear the thunder of the guns better than we do, for the humming of the car drowns all other sounds. But they seem to delight in the dull music, and yet their place is far in advance of the artillery positions. Ersatstruppen! it means that their duty is to replace the fallen, and that the same fate awaits themselves. Yet they are gay and happy. "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori."...

We now begin to notice that we are approaching the firing line. The whole road is encumbered with troops. Here comes a detachment of wounded on foot, with bandages round heads and hands, or with the arm in a sling. We meet an empty ammunition column, an endless string of rattling wagons.

The artillery ammunition column which we are just now passing is an impressive sight. The noise of these vehicles, dull and heavy, is quite different from that of the empty wagons on our left, but then they are loaded to the top with heavy ammunition, shells for 21-cm. mortars at Septsarges and neighbouring villages. Every ammunition wagon—consisting of limber and wagon body—with its team of six horses requires the services of six men. Three of them—drivers—ride on the off-side horses, two are seated on the limber, and one facing the rear on the wagon body. They are armed with Mauser pistols fastened on the left side of the belt, but the swords of the drivers are securely strapped on to the left side of the saddle.

The horses are fat and sleek, and pull without exerting themselves unduly. They move at a walking pace—anything else would be impossible on this road. It is a far finer sight to see one of these columns trundling along at full speed with the horses moving at a sharp trot or gallop. Even at the pace at which they are now travelling these endless columns are an impressive and attractive sight. What does it matter if the helmets, in order not to glitter and attract attention, are concealed by a cover which even hides the spike surmounting them; what does it matter if the men's uniforms are of the same dirty grey as the clay and mud of the soil? The whole team looks picturesque enough with its massive, solid wagon, its pole, its leather fittings and its harness.

Tramp, tramp go the horses' hoofs, and behind them comes the rattling of the heavy wagons. One rider sings, another whistles and a third is shouting at a refractory horse. Behind sit a couple of men rolling cigarettes, which by the way is more difficult than it sounds when a wagon is jolting up and down. This column also has a mounted escort. The train is wound up by a field kitchen with a couple of store wagons on which a few bundles of firewood are also lying. Without ceasing, this eternal tramp, tramp, keeps dinning into our ears as the columns slowly travel southward, a never-ending stream of warriors, horses, ammunition and provisions.

IX—"WE DROVE THROUGH A ROARING SEA OF LOUD HURRAHS"

It was still daylight when we returned to our domicile, where the Crown Prince, just back from his day's work, was resting in the doorway. A moment later I went out for a walk in the town. At the bridges over the Meuse I was stopped by the sentries, who in authoritative but invariably polite tones asked to see my Ausweis. That they found me suspicious-looking, ambling along as I did with a sketch-book under my arm, was not to be wondered at. Only one of them, an honest Landwehr man, declared categorically that my pass was not sufficient. "Oh," I said. "The name of the Chief of the General Staff of the Field Army, General Moltke, does not impress you?" "No, the permit must be viséd by the 5th Army," he replied. A couple of his comrades saved the situation after reading the permit, and declared that General Moltke was good enough for them....

It had been arranged that at about half-past six I should look out for the Crown Prince and his staff as they passed through Dun on their way back from Romagne. The time was approaching, and we were on the watch. The traffic had not decreased at all, rather the reverse. For a moment it looked like a block, and it would have been a nice thing if the Crown Prince had arrived just then. We crossed the bridge and were outside the town, when the aristocratic-looking cars, bearing the mark, General Ober Kommando V. Armee, came tearing along at full speed. Beside the chauffeur of the first one sat the Crown Prince himself in a cloak with a high collar. He made a sign to me to get in and I took my seat behind him. Then he talked for a while to the officers of the lines of communications, and after that we started. But now the pace was slow, as we happened to meet an infantry regiment. The men took hold of their helmets by the spike, raised them aloft and gave a rousing cheer, as if they were charging a French position. But this time the cheer was meant for the Commander of the 5th Army and the heir to the throne, and we drove through a roaring sea of loud hurrahs. Gradually the ranks thinned out and finally came the stragglers—for there are footsore men even in the best marching army of all—in small groups of two or three, but they cheered as wildly as the rest. Last of all a solitary man stood by the side of the road. He, too, joined in with all the strength of his lungs. When the Crown Prince had reassumed his motor goggles and turned up the collar of his cloak he was not easily recognised, especially by the men of the transport columns we met, who had their horses to look after. But his Imperial and Royal Highness turned half round to me and said unassumingly that nothing pleased him more than to find that he was supported and understood by the soldiers. He considered it the first duty of a prince to show himself worthy of the confidence of his whole people, and for his own part he could not imagine a greater happiness than to occupy such a position in the minds of the German people.

X—"AT DINNER WITH THE CROWN PRINCE"

We reached home in due course and sat down to table. The spirits of the company were as cheerful and unconstrained as usual, though one would have expected high-sounding speeches, toasts and cheering.

Dinner had been going on for some time when Professor Widenmann, the body-physician, came in and took his place. He had been at a hospital, looking after our friend, Baron von Maltzahn, who had been the victim of a motor accident in the course of the day. The car, while going at a terrific pace, had skidded at a corner of the wet road and turned over. Von Maltzahn lay underneath and had the whole weight of the car on his chest. He had a couple of ribs broken, a broken leg, concussion of the brain and general shock. His condition was rather alarming, but the professor had good hopes of his recovery.

That professor is a man one would never forget. We took to each other, more especially as he had travelled all over the world. He had seen a great deal of Africa, and had been very near the summit of Kilima Njaro when he was forced to turn back by wind and weather. We had mutual friends far and near, and long after the others had gone to their rooms we sat up chatting—on that evening, which was my last with the German Crown Prince, the Crown Prince of Prussia.

On the following day, September 24, we made a very early breakfast, after which the cars of the Chief Command of the Army again drove up to the château. I thanked his Imperial and Royal Highness the Crown Prince with all my heart for the great hospitality which had been shown me and for all the memorable things I had had the opportunity of seeing while with his proud army. After a vigourous shake of the hand and a friendly Auf Wiedersehen! the energetic young Imperial Prince got into his car and went off to his duty.

XI—"I WAS ONCE MORE AT THE EMPEROR'S TABLE"

I was once more honoured with an invitation to dine at the Emperor's table at one o'clock. Those present, apart from the Chamberlain, included Herren von Plessen, von Gontard and von Busch, the latter being the German Minister at Luxemburg, also the Emperor's Field Chaplain and a couple of adjutants. In the forenoon news had been received of the illness of Prince Oskar. He had contracted some sort of heart complaint through over-exertion. I expected therefore to find the Emperor a bit depressed, but there was no sign of it. He walked in with youthful and military bearing, honoured me once more with a hearty handshake and bade me welcome back from the 5th Army. Thereupon he took a letter out of his pocket and asked me to read it through carefully. Whilst His Majesty was talking to his suite, I read the letter. It was addressed to the Emperor personally and was written by a sergeant who had been at Prince Joachim's side when he was wounded. Now the sergeant wanted to tell his august master how gallantly the Prince had borne himself and what an example he had been to the soldiers. The letter was simply and ingenuously written and showed how deep and strong is the loyalty which binds the German Army to its supreme Chief and Emperor. The loyalty and unity between Emperor and people, between Commander and Army, form the firm and immovable rock on which the German Empire has been built up. When the Emperor turned to me again and asked what I thought of the letter, I merely answered: "It must be a pleasure to your Majesty to receive such messages from the rank and file."

"Yes," he replied. "There is nothing that gives me so much pleasure as these proofs of the faithful loyalty of my people and the close bonds which bind me to my entire army. Such a letter as this I treasure amongst my most valued possessions."

Then we talked about Prince Oskar's illness, and whilst on this topic, the Emperor said: "So you see, now Hohenzollern blood, too, has flowed. I have six sons and a nephew with me in the war and among the many German Princes who are fighting at the front several have already given their lives for Germany's sake."

XII—"SUPPER WITH CROWN PRINCE OF BAVARIA"

We were to drive to Douai, where we were invited to take supper at 8 A.M. with the ... Crown Prince of Bavaria. The distance is nearly thirty-four kilometres and can easily be covered in three-quarters of an hour, but the numerous posts stationed on the road took up much of our time. It was five minutes to eight when we arrived. An adjutant conducted us to a drawing-room, and we had not waited half a minute when the Crown Prince entered.

He is one of those rare men whom all love and admire—all except the English, for I think that even the French cannot help paying him a meed of respect. In the German army he is looked upon as a very eminent general—a born strategist and a thoroughly schooled soldier. As regards appearance, manner and speech, he is fascinating and congenial in the highest degree, neither regal nor humble, but without artifice and modest like an ordinary mortal. When one knows that he has recently experienced the greatest private sorrow which could befall him, one fancies, perhaps, that one detects a trace thereof in his features—an air of sadness—but otherwise he does not betray, by a look or a sigh, how deeply he grieves over the death of the little prince of thirteen, the darling of all Bavaria. When the country and the empire are in danger, all private sorrows must be put aside! The Crown Prince has no time to grieve or to think of the void and bereavement which he will feel on his victorious return to Munich. He lives for and with his army, and is like a father to each and all of his soldiers. He devotes all his power of mind, all his physical strength, all his time, to the one great object which dominates all else in the minds of the whole German army.

Crown Prince Rupprecht walks in with brisk and easy stride, stretches out his hands towards us and gives us a truly cordial welcome. And then he adds half-humourously: "I expect some other distinguished guests at my table to-night."

"Who can that be?" asks the Duke.

"The Emperor!" replies the Crown Prince, and clasps his hands together.

"The Emperor?" we cry, for we had no idea that His Majesty was in this part of the country.

"Yes, the Emperor has visited several units in this neighbourhood to-day, and has promised ... Hush, I hear his car!" and with that the Crown Prince hurried out.

Meanwhile the Officers of the General Staff of the Army came to greet us, and presently the Emperor's suite, among whom I knew several, also entered. Before I had time to wonder where the supreme War-Lord himself had gone, we were asked to step into the dining-room. The Emperor was already seated at the table. We all stepped up to our chairs, but no one seated himself. The Emperor sat with bowed head, looking very grave. But suddenly his blue eyes flashed up, and he nodded kindly in all directions. When he caught sight of me, he extended his hand across the table and cried gaily: "Guten Tag, mein lieber Sven Hedin; es scheint Ihnen gut zu gefallen in meiner Armee," a sentiment which I confirmed with the greatest alacrity.

Perhaps it might amuse the reader to hear who were the ten people seated round Crown Prince Rupprecht's table. Duke Adolf Friedrich of Mecklenburg sat at the Emperor's right, and Prince Löwenstein at his left. Right opposite the Emperor sat the Crown Prince—the host—with Colonel-General von Plessen, Adjutant-General, at his right and myself at his left. Next to me on the other side was Lieut.-General von Marschall, with Colonel Tappen, of the Crown Prince's staff, on his left. To the left of Prince Löwenstein sat General Falkenhayn, Minister of War, and between him and General von Plessen the chief of the Crown Prince's staff, General Krafft von Dellmensingen. At another table of about the same size, covers had been laid for the other gentlemen of the Emperor's and Crown Prince's staff and suite.

XIII—"THE WAR LORD IN JOLLY SPIRITS"

The Emperor was in brilliant spirits. I really do not know whether he can be otherwise, for whenever I have had the honour to meet him, he has always been merry, amiable and witty. He can certainly express at times in words of thunder his displeasure at some contemptible act on the part of the enemy, but he is soon sunshine again and bursts into irresistible laughter at some whimsical idea. He has a wonderful gift of instilling life into a party and keeping the conversation at high pitch—as he did here for over two and a half hours. He told us a great deal of most interesting news, things which had happened in different parts of the field during the last few days and which, at least to me and to the Duke, were news indeed. If one asks the Emperor any question about the conditions in more or less remote countries, as to which sparse or contradictory information has come to one's ears, he will, off-hand, and with a masterly marshalling of facts, deliver a veritable lecture on its internal and external policy, its public sentiments, its resources, and its military strength. I think I have never met a man who can rival Emperor William in this respect.

He also possesses the faculty of grasping with lightning quickness and judging the opinions expressed by others. He listened with the liveliest interest to Crown Prince Rupprecht as the latter gave him various details about his army, and to me when I described the bombardment of Ostend.

It was past half-past ten when the Emperor laid down his cigar and rose to say good-bye with that vigorous handshake which leaves its mark on one's knuckles. The Crown Prince alone accompanied him out into the hall, which immediately adjoined the dining-room and from which a few steps led out into the road. A soldier stood ready holding the Emperor's light greyish-blue cloak, with dark fur collar; another handed him the plain Prussian officer's field-cap. After the host and his guest had exchanged a few more words they went out to the car, which drove off rapidly into the night.

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