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FROM THE

BENNO LOEWY LIBRARY

COLLECTED BY

BENNO LOEWY

1854-1919
BEQUEATHED TO CORNELL UNIVERSITY

Cornell University Library
CT1098.R125 A2 1910

Princess Helene von Racowitza, an autobi

olin

1924 029 818 931

Cornell University
Library

The original of this book is in
the Cornell University Library.

There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.

http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924029818931

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Princess

Helene von Racowitza

An Autobiography

AUTHORISED TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN

CECIL MAR

$efa gorfe

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

1910

/\,&/fd &C

CONTENTS
PART I

WHAT I HAVE TO SAY
CHAPTER I

PAGE

A word to the reader — About Heredity and Suggestion —
My father's family — The Viking blood — My mother's
family ... ... 3

CHAPTER II

My father's summons to the Crown Prince Max (later King
Max II. of Bavaria) — My parents' house as regarded by
others — Personal reminiscences of young Paul Heyse —
Earliest friends of childhood .... 8

PART II

CHILDHOOD

CHAPTER III

The child-soul — In the arms of Queen Marie — Playmate of

Louis II. — Parting from him . .19

CHAPTER IV

Hans Christian Andersen — Wilhelm von Kaulbach — Justus

von Liebig . 24

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

CHAPTER V

PAGE

Morals and Temperament — Study of Natural Sciences —
Initiation into sexual things — The germ laid of all later
views of life regarding equality of the sexes in matters
concerning love . .... 26

CHAPTER VI

Engagement with the old Colonel when twelve years of age-
Impression at this early age on friends of the family —
My faithful ThSrese ..... 30

CHAPTER VII

To Berlin with Grandmamma — Renewed studies — First flirta-
tion — Awakening interest for the stage and theatrical
artists — Yanko Gehan Racowitza . . .35

PART III

INTOXICATION OF YOUTH

CHAPTER VIII

Home again — In the great world of Turin — Meeting my

fiance* once more — Painful times in consequence . 41

CHAPTER IX

Removal to Nice — Life there in riotous living — Lord Bulwer
Lytton — Meyerbeer — Baroness Cruvelli - Vigier — Lady
Brougham — Empress Nicholas of Russia — Grand Duchess
Marie — Grand Duchess Helene, and her mental

superiority . . 44

CHAPTER X

First love— Baron Paul von Krusenstern and Ernst von
Kotzebue— Breaking off my engagement with the

Colonel

CONTENTS

CHAPTER XI

Love's madness — Relentless behaviour of my parents towards

this first love — What followed much later . . 57

CHAPTER XII

Napoleon and the Empress Eugenie — Infidelity almost
trained to become second nature — Fanatical love of
truth — End of youth's mad dream . . 6l

PART IV

YANKO VON RACOWITZA AND FERDINAND LASSALLE
A few introductory words , , . . .67

CHAPTER XIII

In Berlin once more — Yanko my page and spiritual
possession — At Master W. von Kaulbach's — President
Bonseri — Baron von KorfF and other friends of Lassalle 69

CHAPTER XIV

First meeting with Ferdinand Lassalle — Study of Lassalle's
works — Old Councillor Boeckh and his eulogies of
Lassalle — Heinrich Heine's letter about Lassalle to
Varnhagen von Ense — Bismarck on Lassalle — Solicitor
Holthoff 76

CHAPTER XV

Grandmamma's illness and death — Yanko's promise at her
death-bed — My return home to Switzerland — Society in
Geneva — My journey to Berne — Review of Lassalle's
activity — Bismarck in the eyes of Lassalle — Something
of George Brandes on Lassalle . . . .92

vii

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

CHAPTER XVI

PAGE

How I found Lassalle once more in Rigi Kaltbad — The
Americans' opinion of Lassalle — My indecision, and
fear of my parents regarding Lassalle's persuasions —
Farewell, -with the promise of a decision . • 97

CHAPTER XVII

My letter to Holthoff— Communication to Yanko of my
approaching engagement to Lassalle — My consent to
Lassalle — About some of Lassalle's letters during our
short parting . . . .106

CHAPTER XVIII

Lassalle's arrival — The brief delight of the days in Wabern —
ce Julian Schmidt " and Lassalle's meeting with him —
"Might and Right" — Lassalle about the Countess
Hatzfeld — A letter from him about the latter —
Lassalle's thoughts of the future — Something about
his triumphs on the Rhine . . . .113

CHAPTER XIX

In the moonlight — C( Like gods they wandered forth — and
how did they return ? "■ — Some fragments of Lassalle's
letters to Countess Hatzfeld about our engagement —
Full confidence in her and (< Papa Holthoff" — Farewell 121

CHAPTER XX

My sad return home — The struggle begins — My flight — In
the hotel — Lassalle's extraordinary behaviour and mad
faith in his destiny — Meeting with my mother —
Lassalle forces me to return to my parents — My
imprisonment — Lassalle's boundless filial love for his
own parents the only comprehensible excuse — Some of
his intimate letters about this . . . .131

viii

CONTENTS

CHAPTER XXI

PAGE

My anguish of soul — HolthofFs double play — Desperate
sorrows of heart — My weakness and renunciation — I am
taken to Bex disguised as in the Middle Ages — Yanko
appears as deliverer . . . . .142

CHAPTER XXII

Yanko's noble offer — My acquiescence — Holthoff 's letters to

me — Lassalle's letters and the letter of old Boeckh . 147

CHAPTER XXIII

Lassalle leaves Geneva — Some fragmentary letters to me,
which I never received — Beginning of the Countess's
dreadful influence in our affairs — My indignation at
this — The steps Lassalle took, unknown to me at the
time, with Bishop Ketteler in Mayence, and the King
of Bavaria — Disastrous interference of third persons —
My father s dictation — Lassalle's last doubts as to its
validity — The false friends are victorious — My apathy
of soul— The final discussion with the envoys . 1 62

CHAPTER XXIV

Lassalle's challenge — Accepted by Yanko — My feelings be-
fore the duel — The duel — The result of the same —
Lassalle's death— The conclusion of Lassalle's self-
characterisation in a remarkable letter to an unknown
person — A question addressed to Fate . 174

CHAPTER XXV

Why, in spite of everything, I married Yanko — His fatal
illness— In Rumania — The wedding and evil omen —
Terrible honeymoon — Our travels in search of recovery
for the patient — Alone with strangers — Blessed assist-
ance from the German Consul in Corfu — Our flight
homewards — Yanko's death and its consequences in
Bologna . . . . .181

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA
PART V

CHURCH— POLITICS— THE STAGE

CHAPTER XXVI

PAGE

How the world made me do penance — In Nice with beauti-
ful Medora Ward — Almost a Jesuit— In Paris— Almost
in the Court of Napoleon III. . • .195

CHAPTER XXVII

In Berlin— Theatre studies — Almost in the service of Bis-
marck — The stage is victorious — Siegwart Friedmann —
New wedlock — In Vienna — Parting with Siegwart
Friedmann after living together happily for five years . 214

CHAPTER XXVIII

Siegmund Schlesinger's opinion of me — et It is I " — Franz von

Lenbach — Hans Makart— Franz Liszt . . . 227

CHAPTER XXIX

Heinrich Laube and his house — The Nord Theatre under
Laube — Paul Lindau's Maria and Magdalene — Musical
evenings of that time — Knowledge of Richard Wagner
— Touring, and kindnesses of my colleagues, male and
female — Short memoirs of great stage artists — Albert
Trager — August Wilhelmj — Lassalle reminiscences —
Old Holtei .... 241

CHAPTER XXX

First meeting with Serge von Schewitsch, my present hus-
band — Meeting in Salzburg — W T hy I, at that time, did
not contemplate marriage — Comical charity, and other
episodes of the Vienna life — Away to Russia . . ^55

CONTENTS
PART VI

ST. PETERSBURG
CHAPTER XXXI

PAGE

Journey there — Life and doings in St. Petersburg — Some

dark episodes ...... 269

CHAPTER XXXII

The greatest love of my life, which springs from a tiny seed
— A real Russian drive — Cooks' dinner — Russian Secret
Police — The wedding of King Milan of Servia — Mys-
terious "Walter" . . . .276

CHAPTER XXXIII

Departure for Paris — Via London to America . . 290

PART VII

AMERICA IN WEAL AND WOE

CHAPTER XXXIV

Arrival and first impressions — Some "real" American-German
existences — Joseph Keppler and the German Puck —
The « Old Count "—The house of Kudlich-Vogt . 295

CHAPTER XXXV

Journey to San Francisco — Meeting with Professor Dr. Karl
Semper — The Chinese — A little Mormon adventure —
Something about the Mormons and other communities 303

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

CHAPTER XXXVI

PAGE

Arrival in San Francisco — Magnificent impression — American
hotels and cooking — Stay with the custodian of the
University — In the so-called "Old Mission*' — Baron
von Behr, Rector of the University, as a true Jesuit —
Dr. Ahlers and his highly interesting remembrances of
the early days of San Francisco — Seeking of gold and
precious stones— The seals at Cliff House — Jimmy, my
Chinese friend — With the detective through Chinatown
— In the opium dens — In the brothel — Oakland the
beautiful . . . . . .314

CHAPTER XXXVII

The American stage — Why I did not join it — An adventure
with serpents — Departure from beloved San Francisco
— Return to the East — What happened to Serge during
this time — At the Milwaukee Theatre — English appear-
ance — St. Louis — Dr. Nagel, my father's friend — His
interesting life — Fritz Hecker, the old revolutionist, as
farmer — Others of 1848 — Dr. Pretorius — Fanny Vanus-
chek ....... 334

CHAPTER XXXVIII

Return to New York — Beginning of my literary career —
American marriage to Serge — The " Northern Sphinx/'
Madame Helena Petrowna Blavatsky — The new
trousers, or a One can do all one intends doing " — With
the deaf and dumb, blind and idiotic — At the New
York University as medical student — Studies of painting 348

CHAPTER XXXIX

Serge as people's orator — Henry George, and debates with
him — Police fray — Fraulein Ottilie Assing and the
negro Fred Douglas— American racial hatred — Vasilli
Vereschtschagin in New York, and American ideas of
art at that time . of?q

xii

CONTENTS

CHAPTER XL

Some comical real American experiences — Departure from

America . . . . . . .381

PART VIII

BACK TO EUROPE

CHAPTER XLI

Scotland — London — Rewedded — Reunion with Madame
H. P. Blavatsky — Return to Russia — Riga, and the
kindnesses we met with there — Severe illness and
journey to Berlin — The anxious pilot — Preparation for
the operation . . . . . .389

CHAPTER XLII

Councillor Dr. Olshausen, the kind, genial operator — One
chance in a hundred of saving my life — In spite of
everything, recovery — Our travels . . . 400

CHAPTER XLIII

Settled in Munich — Intercourse with Bjornstjerne Bjornson
— Through his intervention, interesting correspondence
with Amely Skram, the great Danish authoress —
Serge's literary activity — Franz von Lenbach — Helene
Boehlau, Frau Al-Raschid Bey — Meeting with Baron
Korff ....... 405

Conclusion ....... 419

Xlll

PART I

What I have to say — Why I say it — Theories of Sugges-
tion and Heredity — My old home, and what people
said about it — Memories of Paul Heyse.

CHAPTER I

The following sketches are not intended for timid
souls or conventional thinkers, nor for those who are
prudishly inclined or narrow-minded. Such people
had better not take up this book, — not even glance
through its pages — for the result might be vexation
of spirit !

My aim is not to shock my readers, but to warn
them of certain things in life which are better
avoided, or maybe to prove to them that, after all, the
best thing life contains is courage to uphold truth,
and to avoid lying in word and deed. This increases
one's self-respect, helps one to keep friends and to
appreciate them when one has found them.

The following reminiscences of a stormy life are
offered for emancipated people — to those independent
souls who, having reached the pinnacle which stands
above all conventions, look forward to the time when
each one will be free to form his own life according
to his individuality, untrammelled by social or
family prejudices ; and to those who look forward
to the time when woman will be no longer regarded
as a household drudge, but as the comrade of man,
not as his mere instrument of pleasure — or maybe
even as his enemy.

Let me therefore once more warn those who are
easily shocked not to read 1

To the free and courageous I say "Read," but
read with the desire to understand the true nature

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

of the author, as she follows the path traced for her
by Fate, from heights to depths — even to the verge
of the mire. The road leads eventually towards the
Light, and remains therein !

I have tried in these pages not to make myself
better than I am — but also not to depict myself
worse, as many people have often shown me.

I must also beg for the wider toleration of my
readers who wander through life's paths with me,
if I find myself obliged to write about my personal
charms with the same impartial frankness as I do
of my faults, failings, and good qualities. I am com-
pelled to do this, as my personal appearance has
played such a prominent part in my life ; I am able
to do this because, in the first place, I am now an old
woman, with hardly the remnants of my once vaunted
beauty, and also because, even in the hey-day of my
youth, I attached no great importance to it, but
accepted it, like all beautiful things belonging to me,
as a matter of course.

Indeed, I sometimes asked myself, "Would you
admire yourself if you met yourself as a stranger?"
I found no answer to this query, and left the opinion
of my beauty to others, — wearing it myself with a
careless sovereignty.

In apologising for this I must again beg the
reader to understand the real reason why I so often —
objectively — speak of it.

I should like to explain why I so often mention
the people who played a r&le in my life more by
initial letter than by name. It is because those who
are still living, and are not connected in any way with
art or literature, might prefer it. I therefore mention
the full names only of those who are well known to
the world. I have nothing detrimental to say of any
of them, therefore they cannot object.

Does my story contain anything important enough
to interest mankind — or perchance to help any reader
over a dark hour ? Yes, I think so.

HEREDITY AND SUGGESTION

Knowledge of human nature would be a very
simple art, if man were an utterly different being at
different periods of his life, for we should content
ourselves with saying, " He is as he is, because he
utilised these or those circumstances or natural
gifts." Even if the result were no complete whole,
we should seek nothing further than that which lies
on the surface.

Whereas there is still so much left that is
mysterious and hidden from our gaze and intuitive
perceptions, that real knowledge of human nature is
perhaps the most difficult problem that presents itself
to the penetrating student mind of man.

For instance, there is the theory of heredity.

Can we tell from which unknown ancestor we
have inherited this vice or that virtue ?

Or do we know anything of the influences, evil or
good, to which the being we might be analysing
was subjected ?

Can we explain the power of hypnotic suggestion,
or the undoubted power often wielded by a strong,
if evil, soul on another of superior quality, which is
nevertheless unable to withdraw itself from the
influence of that other ? No ! We know nothing
about all this — or practically nothing.

To return to the theory of heredity. The wisdom
of ancient India affirms that each individual is allowed
the choice of its parents or ancestors, but that in our
present existence we have no knowledge of this
choice. Until a short time ago, we Europeans knew
nothing about this theory.

We are souls or, according to Goethe, " intelli-
gences" compelled by previous existences, and the
qualities and defects we then appropriated to ourselves,
to reincarnate exactly as we do.

This may be the secret of psychic inheritance
which we often look for in the opposite scientific
theory of physical heredity.

As the former is too occult to admit of more

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

than mere allusion in these pages, I must, since
I am writing Memoirs, confine myself to the latter.

A strange mixture of blood flows in my veins.
My father's family was originally a Swedish-Norwegian
one — the Tonniges (as they were then called, and
as a branch of it is still named) were direct
descendants of the Vikings, and the fiercest blood
of the wild Norsemen ran in their veins.

This was distinctly noticeable in my father, who
in joy, as well as in rage, knew no middle course.
When mastered by indignation, he gave way, as
I have often witnessed, to ungovernable fury. When
the ancient Vikings migrated to Germany, their
Northern ferocity ought to have spent itself in the
taming process of the Prussian discipline, for most
of them entered the Prussian state service. On the
maternal side, my father was descended from Lucas
Kranach, and most of the members of his side of
the family were dignitaries of Church or State. Un-
fortunately in my father's case, Norse blood alone
seemed to flow, and to be transmitted to me, his
first child.

There is a story told in the family about this
"Viking blood."

We once met a very old relation in Nice belonging
to the branch of the family that wrote the name with
a "T," and had settled in the south of France.

The old Baron Tonniges was a tall, well-built man
— an " original." He was dressed in the fashion of the
'forties — high, twisted, batiste neckerchief, long coat
and vest — and excited no little astonishment in the
minds of his younger relatives. His punctilious
politeness was such that when my two youngest
sisters, then aged four and five, stood up, he, then a
man of seventy, rose also to show his respect for the
sex, and remained standing until the little ones had
either reseated themselves or left the room. To all

THE VIKING BLOOD

of us he was le vieux cousin and a rather comical
person.

Once the old man told us an extraordinary story
of how, when he and his twin sister were about three
years old, they fought to such an extent that they
had to be kept apart lest they should kill one another.
Their mutual hatred was such that they had to eat
at separate tables ; even the presence of their parents
could not keep this hatred within bounds. From
their third year they never spoke to each other.
They are, unfortunately, not the only examples of
this kind ; the same evil passions play a part in my
family to this day, and to them Lermontov's words
may be applied — " Great am I in love as in hatred."
These Memoirs will show to what extent I was
dominated by the Viking blood.

But to return to my parents. The "Young
Savage," as my father's intimate friends called him
in his university days, fell madly in love at the age
of twenty-four, and married my mother notwithstand-
ing the opposition of both families.

My mother belonged to one of the old and highly
cultured Jewish families in Berlin, whose members,
during the eighteenth century, gave to the world
philosophers and poets, — such as the Ashers, Mendels-
sohns, Beers, and even Heinrich Heine.

Her delightful home was the resort for eminent
artists and brilliant women, such as Henriette Herz,
Rahel, etc. — and for those then known in Berlin as
the "Aesthetes." Her mother, my adored grand-
mother, was one of the most beautiful, witty, and
highly educated women of her day, accomplished alike
in music, philosophy, and literature.

Her family was as proud as any noble one of its
pure Semitic blood, and could boast of the ancient
privilege of placing the "hands of blessing" upon
their graves.

CHAPTER II

My youthful parents, who adored each other, went
to Munich at the wish of the Crown Prince Max
of Bavaria who reigned as king from 1848-63.
Previous to this, at the age of twenty-three, my
father had been appointed Professor of History at the
Berlin University.

His subsequent career in the service of the kings
Max II. and Louis II., was passed partly in the
Foreign Office, and partly as the representative of
Bavaria at foreign courts, until his death in 1872.

I quote these facts from notes in an old family
chronicle which unfortunately has been lost.

I must now condense a few facts which may
describe my old home, and will quote what friends
have said about the house of Donniges, — and about
my father in his official capacity.

"The sudden death of Donniges, our Minister
to Italy, of smallpox, reminds us of the time when,
as a young man, he first came to Munich, and in-
augurated a scheme of work which proved most
beneficial. If Bavaria, during the decisive years of
war, remained true to the Empire, it was due to the
initiative of Munich ; and as this was of the greatest
importance to Germany, Donniges' activity deserves
recognition.

" When a young Professor in Berlin, he was chosen
as tutor to the Crown Prince of Bavaria, who was an
enthusiastic admirer of his frank and genial nature
and of his cultivated mind. When the Crown Prince

MY FATHERS CAREER

Max returned to Bavaria after his marriage with the
Prussian Princess Marie, he requested Alexander von
Humboldt to recommend him a man able to help
him in his studies, and to be at the same time his
counsellor and friend.

" Humboldt proposed Von Donniges, who at once
went with his young wife to Munich, where he
occupied a most influential position when Max II.
ascended the throne. It was he who guided the
Cabinet more or less, who summoned to the University
and the Court the brilliant assembly of eminent men
of science, philosophy, literature, and art — prominent
among them being Liebig, Pfeiffer, Carriere,
Bluntschli, Dingelstedt, Geibel, Heyse, and many
others — and who helped to form the King's mind, and
make the epoch unforgettable for all who were
connected with it.

" Donniges was prime mover in most things, when
at the Court gatherings scientific problems were
discussed and defined, new theories propounded, new
poems read. He was also the life and soul of the
autumn hunting parties where the King was on
friendly terms with those around him. The opposi-
tion party known as the * Blacks' wrote, however, in
their jealousy : ' A duobus D et uno T, Libera nos
Domine.'

"The two D's were Donniges and Dingelstedt,
the T was Von der Tann, then the King's adjutant
and Donniges' intimate friend, who proved himself
so capable as Commander-in-Chief of the Bavarian
Army in 1870.

" Of course all the native talent of Bavaria gravi-
tated round these chosen few, — names such as Kaul-
bach and Schwind may here be cited. It was not
astonishing that Munich soon attracted universal
attention as a centre of art, and thus the character of
its inhabitants was modified and changed in a manner
not unimportant to the development of German
history."

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

In his own house, my father was invariably
amiable, gay, and a perfect host, ably seconded by his
clever wife, and their house parties brought together
the £lite of the aristocracy, as well as the most
eminent minds of the day.

His life was thus entirely absorbed by two interests
— his state and personal duties at Court, and the
cultivation of his own interesting social circle. There
was no time left for his children, except the moments
when we — and especially I — saw him as host in his
own drawing-room.

My mother was as fully occupied, for very soon
she became the intimate friend of the Queen ; and
her children were left entirely to the charge of tutors
and governesses.

Dingelstedt, who considered that with my father's
departure from Munich the most hospitable and in-
teresting salon there ceased to exist, wrote the
following about my parents in the Munich Picture
Book : —

" I felt most at home and happiest at the Donniges',
whose bright and charming wife Franziska furthered
my interests among all classes with the greatest
energy. She upheld me through joy and sorrow at a
time when I was a victim of Court intrigues, woven
with the deftness of a Penelope, which almost decided
me to leave. Donniges also stood by me then through
thick and thin."

In those days father and mother seemed to me an
ideal couple. During the short hours we were
together my beautiful and amiable mother was
kindness itself, playful and indulgent, even in my
maddest moods.

I admired papas cleverness, and was fascinated by
his beautiful voice ; it rings still in my memory as
clearly as in my childhood's days, when he used to
tell me fairy tales, or vied with his guests in improvis-
ing and composing verses.

At his famous evening parties, when all "New

MY PARENTS' HOUSE

Munich " was present, it often happened that towards
the end of supper, warmed by my father's celebrated
"bowl," by the fiery glances of pretty women, and the
animated conversation of witty men, he or Dingelstedt
gave a theme which was taken up by one of the poets
present, and treated for hours in improvised verse full
of wit.

Let me quote a few words to show how all this
impressed outsiders. Baron Otto von Voldendorff
says in his Chit-chat of an old Munich Citizen :

"Frau von Donniges, who was so greatly gifted,
was, perhaps even more than her clever husband, the
centre of that brilliant circle, which a jovial monarch
had attracted to his capital in the 'fifties. The follow-
ing lines are written, not only in honour and gratitude
to the departed, but as the memento of a memorable
period in the history of Munich."

Let me pass over the political and intellectual,
and confine myself to the social life, whose brilliant
centre was to be found in " New Amalia Street,
No. 66."

The Munich citizen, as are all South Germans, is
a homely being, rather exclusive, and not at all
hospitable.

Thirty years ago, almost the only evening parties
were given in the salons of the haute volee. Daily
social intercourse was almost unknown. Frau von
Donniges had the courage to introduce among us the
Berlin "tea evenings," but she was too sensible to
give us the spree-soirees with their weak tea, mild
poetry, cold collations, and barren intellectual ex-
change. It is true that the tea-urn sang in her
hospitable drawing-room, but this was a mere detail,
as an excellent supper was provided with Bavarian
beer, and a " bowl " brewed from the host's special
recipe, moreover cigars were allowed. Those evenings
will never be forgotten by those who had the privilege
of being admitted to the charmed circle, where intellect,
wit, and art ruled the hours. Hardly any celebrity

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

who passed through Munich in those days failed
to become a visitor in Frau Franziska's drawing-
room.

The reception-rooms were furnished according
to the ideas of elegance then prevailing. Nowadays,
when Gothic and Renaissance Art treasures adorn so
many homes, the red velvet drawing-room furniture,
long etageres, and straight looking-glasses, the boudoir
with its blue wall paper and Napoleonic sofa, and the
dining-room with its sphinx clock and stiff-legged
chairs and tables, would appear tasteless. But in
those days one knew no better ; it seemed then of
more importance that the occupant of a chair should
be clever and amusing than that the chair itself should
be of a certain design. Any acquaintance was free to
appear every evening that Frau Franziska was at
home. This fact could be ascertained from the street
by the lighted windows. Twice a week one was quite
sure to find the mistress of the house, and the host
also, provided no command of the king caused his
absence. Conversation was general. People sat, or
came and went as they liked, conversed with whom
they chose, seldom leaving before one o'clock in the
morning. A special programme was always observed
on Monday evenings, — a lecture, or a reading by
various guests in turn.

Frau von Donniges received her guests with a
friendly handshake, whilst her husband gave a satirical
and good-humoured greeting.

It was on these evenings that I made the ac-
quaintance of many famous men, poets and artists,
and learnt the art of conversation. If a stranger was
present, the evening was devoted to him. On one
occasion Hans Andersen told us his charming fairy
tales ; on another, Rubinstein let loose a volume of
sound under his magical fingers ; or Hebbel, with his
vast projecting forehead, read to us, as if volcanic
power animated his glorious dramas.

It was indeed worth while sharpening one's wit in

DR. GEMMINGER

a company of beautiful women such as that by
which the Donniges were habitually surrounded.

Sometimes charades were acted (not the usual
kind resorted to by those who use them as a last
resource on stupid evenings) ; those acted in this
house were more like the famous commedie di
repente when Philip IV. heard the plays flow first
in improvised rhyme from the lips of his ingenui
Calderon, Cervantes, and Lope de Vega, before they
were acted in public. Strange to say, it was the
serious lawyer Bluntschli who was the most eager to
enter the lists. He devoted himself as zealously to
this task, as he did to his legal work. It amused him
to match his wit against the others, and merriment
reigned supreme.

Sometimes the hostess would say, " Children,
to-day I have a surprise in store for you ! " In one
instance this proved to be the famous hunter and
naturalist, Dr. Gemminger, who brought with him a
small bat which he thought would interest those
present. Shrieks arose from all the ladies, who
hastened to protect their hair with handkerchiefs,
fichus, or mantillas !

" Oh ! My bat does not merit such a reception,"
said Dr. Gemminger ; " she is as illustrious among
her species as a Liebig, a Kaulbach, or a Bluntschli
here ! "

The ladies were consoled, and the Doctor took a
little bat out of his coat pocket, and placed it in his
hand. The little animal looked round, flew about
the room, approaching all objects with the curiosity
peculiar to the species, but without touching any-
thing. Then it circled round the chandelier, and
upon a whistle from its master returned at once to
his hand, where it quietly supped on a meal-worm
and drank water from a tiny bowl, looked at all
present with its clever, old-fashioned little face, then
disappeared, amid universal admiration, into the
naturalist's coat pocket He was proud to have

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

proved that even a bat can sometimes be superior to
its reputation.

Everything that happened in this brilliant circle
was as original as this little bat episode ; even in
the game of " Consequences " the questions were
answered by witty remarks or rhymed sentences.
Kaulbach, instead of using words, expressed himself
by means of delightful drawings. During supper a
battle of wits was kept up, but political and scientific
questions also were frequently discussed. Deep
silence reigned when the poets Geibel, Dingelstedt,
Heyse, and Bodenstedt began to improvise. What
costly gems of poetry were strewn on these occasions,
which unfortunately were never handed down to
posterity ! Only the enthusiastic praise of those
present rewarded the gifted poets.

In connection with the Old Milnchner narrative,
I should like to add a personal reminiscence
regarding Paul Heyse. One day as I sat over a
trifling task in the drawing-room with mamma, and
while papa had a visitor in the room opposite, papa
came in and said quite excitedly: " Fanny, young Paul
Heyse is with me. I will bring him in here, but
don't show any astonishment, for you have never seen
such a handsome fellow ! He is simply an Apollo."

Mamma laughed, and I, who was eight or ten
years old, I forget exactly which, looked up at the
gentleman who entered with papa.

Yes, indeed he was ideally beautiful ! Had it
been a few years later, I should certainly have fallen
madly, if vainly, in love with him. He spoke of his
young wife, who was a native of Berlin, and also of
his stories, and was at once invited to bring the
former, and read from the latter, at our next evening
party.

He accepted, and the works he chose were The
Blind and JJ Arrabbiata. I was allowed to sit in
the blue boudoir, and raved for months afterwards
about Paul Heyse.

FRIENDS OF CHILDHOOD

All this will describe the house and the surround-
ings in which I grew up. The children of these
poets, artists, and nobles were my companions,
and with a few exceptions are my friends to this
day. I had been surrounded since my birth by an
atmosphere intellectual, artistic, and beautiful ; this
influenced my future tastes and the development of
my personality.

PAET II

In the arms of the Queen — King Louis II. as child and
playmate — Hans Christian Andersen's visit — Forced
betrothal — Departure for Berlin — At grandmamma's —
Yanko von Racowitza enters my life — Return home to
Italy.

CHAPTER III

I now turn to my earliest childhood — to certain
episodes which will perhaps not be devoid of in-
terest.

The first of these was, of course, told me inUater
years. Individual memory can hardly be said to
exist in extreme youth — certainly not consecutive
memories.

Here is my first independent memory 1 I see a
fire raging before me, and my grandmother bending
over me in her night-dress as I sat on the window-
ledge — I remember nothing else. Later on I heard
that I was then about seven months old, that a house
in our neighbourhood had been burnt down, and that
my grandmother had, in her anxiety, carried me from
my bed to the window.

My next personal recollection comes a few months
later, when I wanted a stuffed bird on the top of a
heavy cabinet, and my uncle, who was young and
careless, nearly overturned the cabinet in the gratifica-
tion of my wish, and covered me with his coat,
terrified lest the heavy piece of furniture should hurt
me.

I mention these earliest reminiscences, because
the development of the youthful individuality is now
considered a fashionable theme of interest ; it was, so
to speak, catastrophes of life and death which created
my first clear impressions.

What now follows is drawn from stories that were
told me.

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

When I was about ten months old, my parents
were staying with the royal couple, Crown Prince
and Princess Max and Marie at Hohenschwangau.
My mother had left me with the nurse in the garden
of the little castle, but the nurse had gone off leaving
me alone.

In an adjoining avenue the young Crown Princess
was walking up and down, when a child's cries
attracted her attention. She hurried in the direction
of the cries and found me, whom she recognised at
once, lying on the grass. The great lady took me up
compassionately, tried to comfort me, and carried me
in her arms towards my mother, who now hastened
in our direction. Before giving me up, the Princess
took my baby fist, shook it at mamma and called
out :

"Little Helene must not be deserted like this;
she is born to be loved, and will cry herself to death
if she is left alone."

This little anecdote of my earliest life was often
told me by my mother.

Ah ! how often have I wept bitterly in later
years when I was deserted by those who ought to
have loved me ; but in those days no kind princess
came to take me up and comfort me in my loneliness,
— and the "princes" who offered themselves for this
purpose understood the terms "love" and "to be
loved " in quite a different sense from that of the
kind fairy of my earliest days.

Among the independent memories of my earlier
childhood's years, the most prominent place is given
to the beautiful time of my friendship with the
Crown Prince Louis — later King Louis II. — if one
may qualify with such a serious epithet the companion-
ship of such youthful beings.

King Max II. had succeeded his father Ludwig I.,
who abdicated in consequence of the Lola episode in
1840, and my parents belonged to the intimate circle
of the youthful monarchs who were universally

PLAYMATE OF LOUIS II

beloved. I was chosen as the most fitting comrade
for the Crown Prince.

We met often and were initiated together, by his
kind governess Baroness Mailhaus, into the deep
mysteries of reading, writing, and arithmetic.

Notwithstanding the quantities of toys at the
disposal of Prince Ludwig and Prince Otto, our
favourite games were of a fantastic kind. "To be
fairies" was our highest ideal. Curtains and portieres
were transformed into flowered garments and wings,
in which we draped ourselves and became the heroes
and heroine of many a fairy-like and wonderful
adventure.

Perhaps it was in those days that the seed was
sown in us both, which in him blossomed later in the
wonderful attraction exercised upon him by Richard
Wagner's dramatic art, and placed me on the boards
of a famous theatre.

Our friendship lasted for many years, and I
remember many traits of this king, who later on was
so genial, and was finally so unhappy.

He was brought up very strictly, and taught
especially to be polite to his inferiors. Another game
of ours was that of leaning out of the window and
spitting ; I have no doubt this was instigated by me.

Of course Baroness Mailhaus was well out of the
way. One day my father's old man-servant walked
past and received our unwelcome gift upon his head.
We nearly died with laughter, whilst the old man,
raising his eyes, called out angrily, "Who on earth

is doing such a filth ," when he recognised the

Crown Prince and broke off hurriedly.

Our joy was of short duration. Fate overtook us
in the shape of Baroness Mailhaus, who laid hold
of us both and forced us to confess ; this we did,
trembling, but also rejoicing at the success of our feat.
She looked very stern, and calling the old man-servant,
she ordered the Crown Prince to apologise. Of course
I was obliged to do the same. The old man was

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

much touched and abashed, but when he left the room
and we faced each other with scarlet cheeks, the
Crown Prince whispered to me, " It really wasn't nice
of us. I am sorry for the old man, and will give him
a present."

Another brilliant idea of ours was to decapitate
some large and beautifully made tin soldiers. Sud-
denly I remembered that in Andersen's charming
fairy tale of the tin soldier, he develops such a tender
sentiment for the little paper dancer, that eventually
he melts in the oven ; and that now in consequence I
looked upon tin soldiers as living beings. I told the
story to my little royal friend, who suddenly began
crying bitterly in the middle of our game, because we
had killed so many splendid little soldiers. I wept as
many scalding tears as he, until I — being the elder —
realised that these tin soldiers could not possibly be,
like those in Andersen's fairy tale, alive ; and I began
to console him.

He agreed with me, and we were soon merry over
some other game.

This delightful friendship was one day ended in a
quarrel which arose over a picture book.

Who wanted the picture book, who had it, I no
longer remember. What I do remember is, that we
were suddenly fighting, that I punched the Crown
Prince, and he, being in the end victorious, pulled out
a handful of my red-gold hair and held it in his little
fist.

Baroness Mailhaus could not separate us, as we
fought like two wild -cats. Suddenly the Queen
stood before us, and exclaimed, " Children ! How
can you— are you mad ? " Queen Marie was a most
beautiful and charming woman, and I adored her.
Her presence brought me at once to my senses.

Both sinners burst into tears ; the great lady
spoke kindly to us, and made us beg each other's
pardon — make friends — and then my governess came
to fetch me home.

PARTING FROM LOUIS II

When my father heard of the quarrel — in spite of
the forgiveness of the royal parents, who regarded the
quarrel as childish nonsense — the intimate intercourse
between his Crown Princely Highness and my " wild-
ness " was broken off. After my father had spoken
very seriously to me on the subject, he added, " One
does not thrash one's future king. You are not
worthy of this privileged intimacy. 1 '

Ah ! this cost me many tears, for I loved the
royal prince above everything, and now I was only
allowed to visit him on his birthday or name day.
On those occasions, as he was forbidden all sweets,
I took him the only thing permitted — a bonbonniere
with chocolate drops, which he divided between
Prince Otto and myself. We grew more and more
estranged, although to this day my heart still holds
deep affection and admiration for the unhappy king.
He has no doubt forgotten me ! Much later, when
I was a widow, he sent me by his Field-Marshal, Von
der Tann, bonbons from his table with the words,
"Greeting to my once wild little playmate" This
ended my childhood's dream in the royal palace.

CHAPTER IV

Another reminiscence is of a visitor to our house
who greatly interested us children. I mentioned
that our father had brought us up on fairy tales —
Grimm's amongst others, and more especially Ander-
sen's ; and now Hans Christian — as we preferred
calling Andersen — was coming in person as a guest
to our house.

During his return journey from Italy to Copen-
hagen he had been stung by a poisonous fly, and was
obliged to remain for some time with us in Munich.
What an ideal friend he was to children ! My
delight knew no bounds. Quite early in the morn-
ings, while mamma was still asleep, I could torment
him at my ease, and he told story after story. He
turned everything into a fairy tale. It was even
more fascinating when he revealed himself as the
" Student of little Ida's flowers " ; that is to say,
while he was telling stories, he cut out the most
fascinating things with scissors — castles, gardens,
flowers and butterflies, elves and gnomes — in fact, all
kinds of wonders. For many years 1 treasured a
butterfly on whose outspread wings a fairy danced.
This has vanished since, like everything that was
best and most beautiful in my life. This man on
first sight was positively repulsive ; so that I, with my
precocious sense of beauty, found difficulty in getting
used to his appearance. He was received and feted
like a prince in the intellectual circle of poets and
learned men of Munich. He called me his little

HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

fairy on account of my flitting hither and thither,
perhaps on account of my sunny hair, which I wore
down my back. I was always with him, either
holding his hand or seated on his knee.

He also told his wonderful fairy tales in the
drawing-room, and moved his susceptible listeners to
laughter and tears with fantastic and satirical recitals.
Just those stories, however, won the most applause
which seemed to me the least attractive ; these I
thought merely pretty tales. I can see again the
assembly before me in the drawing-room laughing
heartily over the "Swineherd" and "tjie Princess
and the Pea." In later years I have often heard
Wilhelm von Kaulbach and Justus von Liebig
quoting from the latter story, " So, now she can stand
without and sing, ' Oh ! my dear Augustin, all is
over,'" and the sensitiveness of the "Real Princess"
was a household word in the whole circle.

Of course in such company and amidst all these
celebrities I heard many things that were not good
for such a young and impressionable creature as I
was to hear. One must agree with me when I say
that the milieu in which I grew up was the best
imaginable for the cultivation of a sense of the
beautiful, for intellect, artistic fantasy, and social
breeding, but the least favourable for all one under-
stands by the term morality.

CHAPTER V

A vivid temperament was mine ! Let me say at
once that I was an excitable, unusual creature, wild
and easily aroused — readily thrilled in all my senses —
"soaring heavenward, smitten with deadly depres-
sion," that was for me already true, even at the age
when others are still devoted heart and soul to their
dolls. It urged me, even when I was six years old,
to little love affairs with the brothers of my girl
friends.

This is what I saw in our salon, where the majority
of the celebrities already mentioned — above all my
own father — carried on, either openly or in secret,
liaisons with the ladies, or at least indulged in obvious
flirtations, as they are now called — or courtships, as it
was expressed in those days.

Amid all the fine speeches that were exchanged,
and eagerly absorbed by my quick ears, many a fiery
look, many a covert pressure of the hand, and many
a secret kiss did my precocious eye detect.

Interesting and instructive this company most
certainly was ; but conducive to sound morals and
cleanliness of spirit it emphatically was not.

This was the wholly irreligious — or rather, the
a-religious — atmosphere in which I grew up. A
little Bible history was all I ever heard of religion.
But often I heard mocking, contemptuous discussions
of the fasting, church-going, and confessions of one of
our governesses, who was a Roman Catholic.

This embittered me, for I was kind at heart, and

STUDY OF NATURAL SCIENCES

felt how tactless and insulting were such commen-
taries. Also I never remember that anything in our
house was considered reprehensible except " bad
manners," awkward speech or intonation, all and
sundry that jarred upon the sense of beauty.

In my father's as well as in my mother's family,
there was an absolutely fanatical love of beauty.
Morals were of secondary consideration. Lying was
one of the things that were strictly forbidden. In
my case it was unnecessary, as lying was not one of
my faults.

The instruction I received at home was just as
erratic as everything else. A German and a French
governess looked after our languages and elementary
instruction. There was also added to these a tutor,
a little music, and a year in an " institute " — from
which, at the request of the Principal, I was with-
drawn, since, as she said, I learnt nothing, was always
busy with imaginary things, and prevented the other
girls from learning.

This much for my education. One subject really
interested me — that was natural history ; and also
the German classics. In my tenth year I knew
almost by heart Kdrner, Schiller, Kleist, and much
of Goethe. I recited them with much dramatic
instinct when I gave readings, both to my con-
temporaries and in the circle of my elders. This
at least was an advantage I gained by keeping my
ears open at home.

My love for natural history, and especially for
zoology, was awakened by Dr. Gemminger of the
episode of the little bat, already mentioned. I
always loved animals intensely, and in this was warmly
encouraged by my father, who shared my taste. Thus
Dr. Gemminger was always allowed to bring me all
kinds of animals, and as he always explained every-
thing about them to me in a way at once fascinating,
learned, and clever, I soon knew more about forest and
field life than of ancient and modern history.

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

I was perhaps eight years old when Dr. Gemminger
brought me a dead squirrel, saying, " Now we know
how it, the little fellow, lives and moves, let us
see what he looks like inside ! That is just as
interesting."

In this manner I made my first dissection. He
showed me the heart with its valves, the lungs with
their bronchial connections, the stomach, its cause and
effects, and laid the foundation for the study of
medicine which attracted me so much in later years.

Otherwise, no value was attached to definite know-
ledge, and by and through books I learned very little.
All the more I was vividly interested in the profound
mysteries of life, as 1 suppose most children are from
whom sexual things are only half hidden, as was then
too often the case.

From my tenth year my friends were mostly
considerably older than I, and a little later they were
often found among newly married women, and I was
initiated by them (and by one in particular) into the
mysteries of sex.

I do not wish to defend the lady who thus
initiated a young child in secrets usually first known
by those of much riper years, but equally I should
not like her to be unjustly accused. There was in
my earliest youth, and there still survives in me,
something that draws women to me, and moves
them to entrust me with their inmost confidences.
They found in me, although I was then half a
child, a ready and complete understanding, that was
never shocked, even by astounding revelations ; and
probably this made it easier to confide in me. I
distinctly remember the day when the foundation
was laid to all my future life.

This occurred on a clear summer evening in
the garden. My intimate friend — a Countess K.,
about nineteen years old — had told me all the
incidents of her wedding night. She suddenly began
to weep, and said sadly, " Men are so wicked ! I

EQUALITY OF THE SEXES

found out I was not his first love. He has loved
many other women in the same way,"

Hereupon I asked the amazing question, "Why
don't you do the same ? What he does you can do
also 1 "

" A woman dare not, or the world will ostracise
her," said the Countess.

" I should like to find any one who would prevent
my doing what I wished ! And as for the outcry in
the world — well, one must pay no heed to that, so
long as one does right," I exclaimed.

"Well, I should not consider it right," she said
hesitatingly, " unless it were done in secret, and so
that none should know of it." (She, poor soul, was
since ruined by acting up to this view.)

" No ! " I exclaimed indignantly, " I don't mean
that at all ! On the contrary, one should do it quite
openly, to show that a woman has the same right as
a man ; both are human beings, and if it is in nature,
as your husband asserts, then it holds good for man
and woman."

It was on that clear summer evening that I was
first convinced of the equality of the sexes. My
frankness was abnormal, and I had a passion for
unmitigated truth which frequently made my actions
appear worse than they were. I shall often refer
later to this characteristic of mine, and should like to
impress the fact on my readers that it was, even at
this early age, one of my most prominent traits.

CHAPTER VI

In my more than peculiar up-bringing, if one may even
call it so, it is not astonishing that I was taken to
private balls at the age of twelve and was allowed to
play the "grown-up." From that time, so to speak,
I was made love to "officially." In order to describe
the impression I then made, let me quote the words
of Baron Voldendorff, who speaks of me in his
Remembrances of an old Milnchner.

He says, after a few introductory lines : " I
entered the blue drawing-room, but my feet were
arrested on the threshold by a wonderful picture.
The sun's rays fell on the figure of a young girl who
sat in the window niche — a girl of such extraordinary
beauty that I instinctively held my breath in order
not to disturb this creature out of a fairy tale.
Dainty and winsome as a fairy, with sharply cut
profile, in which the slightly aquiline nose and the
finely drawn mouth were conspicuous, she sat or
rather reclined in the chair, her little head drawn
back, as if by the weight of the glorious golden hair ;
her eyes were bent dreamily on the distance. And
what eyes ! Later on I often looked into them, but
do not yet know what colour they are, whether grey,
blue, or green. They continually changed colour;
sometimes they wore the most gentle dove-like
expression, sometimes — particularly when the heavy
lids half hid them as if in fatigue — they flamed like
eyes of a beast of prey. It was apparently a child
of fourteen years of age, but she was developed like a

BARON VOLDENDORFFS OPINION

girl of eighteen. At the noise of the closing door,
she turned her head towards me and said with the
greatest aplomb, ' Mamma is not here, but she will
come directly — do sit down.'

" I mentioned my name, upon which she made a
graceful bow, and I greeted her with the words, ' I
suppose you are the Helene we have been expecting
from Berlin?' 'Quite right,' was the reply, and
thus I beheld for the first time the enchantress
Helene, who in later years was so passionately
beloved, and so bitterly reviled.

" Those who have not personally known Helene
von Donniges can scarcely understand the magical
power she was capable of wielding over the hearts of
men. I often said to her jokingly, 'Like your
famous namesake you could surely cause a Trojan
war. But you would be capable of a higher art than
hers ; for on returning to your Menelaus, after a ten
years' absence with the lordly Paris, and many other
lovers, he would be sufficiently in love with you to
forgive you all, and joyfully return home with you
once more.' I for one, at least, have often tried
hard to be angry with her, and I was as long as I
did not see her. But when I spoke to her again,
and represented to her face to face her abominable
behaviour, I was compelled to relent when she naively
declared that she could not understand wherein she
had erred. * One cannot be angry with her, she is as
she is : ought one to blame the panther for following
his instincts as beast of prey ? ' "

Such was Baron VoldendorfFs opinion of me !

At that time — being then only twelve years old —
my mother forced me into an extraordinary engage-
ment.

During a journey through Sardinia, my parents
became acquainted with a widower of forty-two, who,
according to my mother's ideas, was extremely hand-
some. I believe he was really in love with my
mother, who was herself a beauty, and being unable

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

to marry her, was unscrupulous enough to try and
wed the daughter. As to how far my father was
responsible for this folly, I cannot tell ; but knowing
him as I do, I think he did not trouble himself about
such matters. Nobody seemed to know whether the
wedding was to be postponed until I was of marriage-
able age ; but in any case it amused my mother to
pose as a young and beautiful mother-in-law to a
sympathetic man who was her admirer. My betrothal
took place. They filled my head with confused
notions of marriage, married life, the bearing of
children, and such things, at a time when I should
have been busy with my lessons, so it is hardly
surprising that I did not say no to their mad
project.

I was delighted to receive the burning love-letters
of my fiery Italian, to show them to my young
friends, and to feel myself envied by them.

I had not yet seen my destined husband. As
commander of the fortress of Alessandria, he could
not easily get leave. For the present, all the pleasure
I got out of my engagement consisted in fantastic
pictures which my mother was never tired of
describing to me, to prove how charming it would be
that I, still almost a child, would be called at balls
" Frau Generalin — Your Excellency " ; how my
elderly, rich, and aristocratic husband would over-
whelm me with all the goods of this world. Only an
old man really understood how to love a woman and
to make her happy. Every moment of his life he is
grateful to her for her favour, even if she herself has
no great feeling for him. In short, the future was
sketched in radiant colours, and in imagination I
always pictured myself in velvet and jewels, sur-
rounded by lackeys and every conceivable oriental
luxury.

Here I should like to tell of the terms on which I
lived with my brothers and sisters, and the other
inmates of the house.

MY FAITHFUL THERESE

I was adored and spoilt by them all, and at that
time also by my parents. Much later, when I was
finally separated from my family, and was discussing
the severance with an old comrade of my father's, I
was told, " It is simply incomprehensible when I
remember how your parents adored you ! Your
father would have fetched the moon and all the stars
from heaven for his little ' Helena ' if she had wished
it. You were simply his idol. How could he treat
you so in after-life ? "

I was, in spite of being a little headstrong and
full of mad freaks, at heart a tractable child, and
easily led by affection. Later, when I was grown
up, our two old governesses confessed to me that
they had never loved any of my brothers and sisters
as they had loved the wild, but good - hearted
Helene.

I was far more developed than my brothers and
sisters. My second sister, who was scarcely a year
younger than I, had left home when four years of
age ; my mother made a present of her to one of
her childless brothers, where she was brought up
surrounded with love and luxury, and married when
sixteen years of age a rich landed proprietor in
Poland — Baron von K. Poor, charming, pretty Marie
died when only eighteen years of age at the birth of
her first child.

With the other brothers and sisters (there were
seven of us) the difference of age was too great to
allow of anything but a kind of playful intimacy.
The person who cared for me most was my mother's
old maid, Thdrfese, and she played a certain part in
many years of my later life, as will be seen in this
absurd betrothal incident.

The old Italian bridegroom arrived, but did not
conquer. He terrified me by his gigantic bulk and
horrible black beard ; and finding no sympathy with
any member of my family, 1 clung to the faithful old
Ther^se. Her advice, if not exactly moral, was

33 D

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

sincere, and seemed to me inspired. She had studied
my mother's character for a long time, or rather
fathomed it, with the silent Jesuitical knowledge of
human nature which servants, and indeed all those in
dependent position, often possess. She had no love
for her mistress, but understood how to combine
affection with interest, and so made herself necessary
to my mother. As regards this projected marriage
she, together with all the other servants, was entirely
on my side. During the Sardinian journey she, a
bigoted and fervent Catholic, had learnt to know
and hate the old Italian. His cynical atheism had
inspired her with horror. She comforted me, saying :
" We (for it was understood that Th£rese was to
accompany me) will marry him because we must !
The Frau mamma is too mad on the idea ; no prayers
can help as here 1 But never mind ! The dear God
and the Holy Virgin will know all about it, and soon
send us some one else who will suit us better ; then
we will run away. Or, if nothing else helps, I am
sure the heart of Jesus and the beloved saints will
not consider it a sin to kill such a horrible creature,
who mocks at heaven and hell. Anyhow, we shall
manage to become free. Naturally, there will be
hard times to begin with."

CHAPTER VII

The intervention of my grandmother ended the
engagement, or at least postponed it. She came
and spoke authoritatively to my parents : " The
child must continue her studies for the present, I
will take her with me to Berlin. Vedremo piii
tardi"

And so it was ! The Italian returned to his
garrison and I accompanied my grandmother to
Berlin.

There all kinds of serious studies were taken up,
or as serious as possible when my disposition is
considered. I was very quick to learn, and tasks
were mere play to me. Taubert was my pianoforte
master ; playing seemed as light a matter to me as
one of his children's songs. All this knowledge was,
however, most superficial, as was proved by the fact
that after a few years I entirely gave up my music.

My master for German and Literature, also my
Russian Professor (for this language I studied with
great readiness) were astonished at my abnormal
memory; to read a page twice, especially in verse,
was enough to imprint it upon my memory.
Languages and declamation became a passion —
French, English, and Italian, together with Russian, I
studied with my young friends. My German master
was always delighted with my compositions, — most
of which I scribbled a quarter of an hour before
lesson time.

But, to my exuberant and imaginative disposition,

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

this more serious side of life was only of secondary
importance.

I was longing for a romance and imagined many,
for one can hardly say that the flirtations with cousins
and friends were love affairs. They were sensual
enough, however, to be rather more than schoolgirl
ravings.

I must have been a strange girl, for although I
was barely fourteen (it was just before my Confirma-
tion) I made such an impression on the youths I have
already mentioned, that they adored me, and ex-
pressed their feelings in songs and poems. Even
older and more serious men vied with them in paying
court to the "red nixie." The nickname " nixie"
dates from a little episode which took place on the
Tegernsee, and which I was very fond of relating in
Berlin. I was only ten years old, and was sitting in
our boat-house on the Tegernsee in the sunshine,
dangling my bare feet in the water. Felix, the son
of the famous Ignace Moscheles (who was then
twenty years of age, and who became later a famous
painter in England and America) came up to me
with his fishing-rod, smiled, and declared later, that
he had fallen in love at once with the little golden-
haired thing. The young man was anything but
good - looking, with his sharp though interesting
features. I was sorry for his ugliness, and addressed
him thus : " Isn't it awful to be so ugly ? "

"No," was the ready reply, "Not as long as there
are such charming little nixies whom one can look at,
catch, and paint when they put such impertinent
questions."

I was ashamed, and we made friends. He soon
became an intimate in my parents' house, and later on
I sat to him for many studies whilst Bodenstedt,
Dingelstedt and my father read aloud, or Moscheles
played the piano. I particularly enjoyed the chocolate
he gave me in return for accompanying him on his
sketching expeditions through forest and field.

LOVE FOR THE STAGE

The " Nixlein " exercised her charm on the hearts
of older men in Berlin. There was one particularly
handsome young man, who made such an impression
on me that I let myself be carried away by a semi-
romance. As he was married to a rich though ugly
wife, nothing came of the "flirtation," as he called it.
Later on I realised there had been a certain danger
for me in it all. He was a very clever, enthusiastic
student of philosophy, and so we remained good
friends and raved together over Literature and Art.
Even in those days I loved to read aloud, and this
remained one of my accomplishments, as my en-
thusiasm for the classics was in its first and fullest
bloom. I very soon found in grandmamma's house
there was a replica en petit of my father's salon.

At that time my love for the stage developed
itself. When six years of age I had been taken for
the first time to the ballet in Munich ; and after this
everything was transformed for me into a poem of
movement, and every circumstance of my life and
fancy was illustrated by me in dancing. I gave
everything a dramatic setting, and imagined myself
as the heroine of the most impossible adventures.

The ancient Greek statues which I now learned
to know in the museums became as living things and
friends to me.

Ah ! How intense was the feeling of delight
during the hours when I approached the tragic forms
of Antigone, Maria Stuart, Clarchen and Gretchen !

Few can have experienced such joy and sorrow
in their poetic conceptions as I lived through with
mine.

As I have already said, my love for the stage and
for artists developed more strongly than anything
else. I fancy that this enthusiasm in me for all that
was great and beautiful in art was one of my chief
attractions to the young men of my acquaintance.
They felt that beneath my joie de vivre there lay a
deeper note of true admiration for everything that

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

was noble and great. This perhaps was the secret of
the attraction I had for a young Rumanian friend
of my cousins — Prince Yanko Gehan Racowitza.
He could only speak broken German, but the
eloquent glances from his expressive dark eyes spoke
to me of his admiration and enthusiasm. We were
much together, but at that time he seemed to me
only a boy. Perhaps the intensity of expression in
his eyes contained all the longing and passion that
were crowded into his brief earthly existence. Later
he played a powerful role in my life, but at this
time he meant little more to me than a welcome
opportunity for practising my French. His musical
talent made a great impression on me. This fifteen-
year-old youth was all music ; in him, with his gipsy
temperament, all was transmuted into sound. He
had a sweet voice, and played the piano and violin
with great taste.

After a year and a half in Berlin my grandmother
returned with me to Italy, where my father was
Minister in Turin to King Victor Emmanuel. Here
I was immediately introduced to the real grand
monde, and the days of my childhood were over.

PAKT III

The Intoxication of Youth — At home once more and in
the " great world " of Turin — Move to Nice — Life there
— Lord Bulwer Lytton — Meyerbeer — The Empress of
Russia — Grand Duchess Helene and others — First love
— Separation.

CHAPTER VIII

I was not very happy at first under my father's roof.
The dreaded Italian wooer arrived almost at the same
time in the villeggiature of the Vallisa Alps, where
my parents passed the summer and autumn. My
aversion to him became boundless as he permitted
himself little intimacies. Indeed I was infuriated
when he tried to exercise his prerogative as bridegroom
for the purpose of caressing me. He was odious to
me, and I showed him this plainly. My mother, to
whom he complained about my exaggerated prudery,
persuaded him it was merely my extreme youth and
German virtue, and would disappear with marriage.

Society returned soon afterwards to Turin, and
here life became more interesting. Cavour, the
genial Minister of the Re Galantuomo, was an
intimate friend of my father's, and he, with a number
of eminent men of that time, visited us frequently.
I was regarded by them as the affianced bride of a
high Italian official, and as such I was taken to the
very simple court of Princess Clotilde— later Princess
Bonaparte. She, as well as her father and brother,
were quite bourgeois — extremely ugly, but clever and
most amiable.

Count Cavour stood in the foreground of all that
was interesting. I particularly recollect one dinner-
party at our house. Among the guests, besides the
Count and my dreadful fianc^, some members of the
Corps diplomatique were present. I sat between the
Colonel and an English attache The conversation

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

was held almost exclusively between Cavour, my
father, the beautiful Princess Ratazzi, and my mother.
From time to time Count Stackelberg, the Russian
Minister, threw in a joking word. It was said of
him that he possessed the three most beautiful things
in Turin — the finest dogs, the finest horses, and the
most beautiful wife, all of whom were equally clever
and treated by him equally badly.

At that time — it was in the winter of 1858 — the
political complications had arisen between Italy and
Austria which led to the war in upper Italy in 1859.
The conversation turned almost exclusively upon
these topics. People said that Princess Ratazzi had
been a political spy at the court of Napoleon,
therefore she was competent to speak when politics
were discussed. I chatted now in German, now in
English with my young neighbour, pointedly ignoring
the Italian, noticing how he boiled with rage and
cast angry glances at me, but I took no notice of
him, glad to escape his odious attentions for a few
hours.

Dinner was hardly over when my father and
Cavour were commanded to the king ; my fiancd
called me into a room, and without the slightest
preparation attacked me thus :

" You have behaved like a cocotte with that
Englishman ; I will call him out ; I will beat you."

As I had not the faintest idea what he could
mean by the word cocotte the epithet did not affect
me in the least, but I was most indignant at his
threat of beating me, and was as wild as a young
tigress. I raged, he bellowed, and hurled the
coarsest epithets at me, all referring to erotic matters,
most of which I failed absolutely to understand.
Hitherto my ears had been kept free from all that
was coarse and ugly ; now a flood of it burst over
me with elemental brutality. Much later I under-
stood these and similar scenes, when I recalled them
to memory.

MY ITALIAN WOOER

Just then grandmamma entered, attracted by the
shouts of the excited man, and promptly put an end
to the disgraceful scene. She led me away and
insisted on the Colonel's departure next morning,
without his having seen me again.

My time of suffering, however, was not yet at an
end. My mother persisted in her wish for this
marriage, and my father left her free to act as she
chose.

Grandmamma now played a trump card ! We all
travelled to Alessandria, where the Colonel was
commander-in-chief, in order, as the clever woman
remarked, "to see what he was like on nearer
acquaintance."

His surroundings were magnificent, and he over-
whelmed his little fiancee with jewels and costly
gifts ; his subordinate officers adored him, and the
poor prayed for him. Everything was on a large
scale — if in somewhat rough style.

On the whole there was nothing much to be said
against him, although grandmamma saw well enough
that neither the man nor his entourage — wherein
God and women were spoken of with equal levity,
and none but gross material interests were known —
were fitted for her adored grandchild. Life just then
seemed to me utterly grey and without hope — a sad
condition for a mere child.

CHAPTER IX

Deliverance came in the following winter when
my mother could not endure the rough climate of
Turin ; and thus all of us, with the exception of my
father, who was bound by his duties at court, moved to
Nice. Ah ! How lovely life seemed now ! — Dream-
ing under orange trees in my beloved sunshine, far
away from that dreadful Colonel. We arrived there
at the beginning of January, the best time for the
Riviera. The lovely stretch of country from Cannes
to Bordighera was not so built over and spoilt as it
is now. The Promenade des Anglais and the Quai
Massena formed the " Corso " then as now, but
inland towards Carabassel, and behind and beyond
the port, all was pure "nature." We lived at the
end of the Promenade des Anglais — next the Var, a
few steps from the sea, in a large Italian villa sur-
rounded by orange trees; sunlight and warmth
surrounded us on all sides.

My father soon followed us ; now he drove to and
fro between Nice and Turin to his duties. He was
a splendid rider, and I received riding lessons. The
third time I sat in the manege a mad cavalcade was
formed and I was allowed to join it, much to my
father's pride and to the horror of some German
cavalry officers who foresaw me with a broken skull,
or dragged upon the ground from the horn of my
saddle. But nothing of the kind happened ; my
friends took care of me and all went well. After
that I was one of the maddest riders in that mad

REMOVAL TO NICE

and joyful society. A certain interesting Baroness
U. made verses on us all, and said of me —

" Es strahlt in gold'ner Aureole
Die Donniges, ein schones Kind
Erst 14 Jahr doch ganz erwachsen,
Mutwillig wie 'ne Hand voll Wind."

How grown up I appeared may be seen from the
following little incident which took place at my first
ball in Nice. At that time the cosmopolitan banker
A. had a lovely German wife, nee Baroness v. Kaula.
Being very young she was as yet a little unaccustomed
to entertaining. She had left cards at my parents'
house, and then sent invitations for her big ball,
which opened the season, to the Bavarian Minister
and his wife.

Mamma had broken her arm, and it occurred to
papa to take me instead of her. I entered the ball-
room on papa's arm, dressed in white with white
roses in my hair, and in an enormous crinoline which
was then de rigueur.

The beautiful hostess approached me at once in
order to welcome the " ambassadress," and said after
the first greeting, "How young you look. I hear
you have such a large family ! "

I thought she was talking of my brothers and
sisters, and answered, " Yes ! five girls and two
boys."

" Really ! One can hardly believe that you
already have seven children."

Presently the situation was explained, much to
my amusement and to her perplexity. Often I have
laughed at the little contretemps ; and it was a great
joke in common society that the fourteen years old
Helene (who had never had a child) was the mother
of seven.

The cosmopolitan crowd then in Nice was in
many ways worthy of notice. Celebrities from all
parts of the world were there, and I have never beheld
such a number of beautiful women and girls all

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

together. Let me mention a few of the celebrities
I saw at that time. There were Bulwer Lytton,
Meyerbeer, Lord Brougham, Dickens, Prince
Barclay de Tolly, the old King Louis I. of Bavaria,
the transitory King Max II. From the Russian
Court there were the old Empress of the Russian
Court, widow of Nicholas 1., the glorious Grand
Duchess Helene (Princess of Wiirttemberg), and
the ideally lovely Grand Duchess Constantine, who
expected her witty consort in Nice, as he com-
manded a portion of the Russian Fleet that often
lay at anchor off Villefranche.

It was a brilliant and distinguished assembly that
met in those days on the shores of the Riviera.

In the foreground of my memory stands Bulwer
Lytton. What I now relate took place at the end
of the 'fifties.

Bulwer was already past his first youth ; his fame
was at its zenith. He seemed to me antediluvian,
with his long dyed curls and his old-fashioned dress.
He dressed exactly as in the fashion of the 'twenties,
with long coats reaching to the ankles, knee breeches,
and long coloured waistcoats. Also, he appeared
always with a young lady who adored him, and who
was followed by a man-servant carrying a harp. She
sat at his feet and appeared as he did in the costume
of 1830 with long flowing curls called Anglaises. To
me, who hated every kind of pose, the famous author
seemed ridiculous, as did later Oscar Wilde with his
train of adoring women.

In society, however, people ran after him tremen-
dously, and spoilt him in every possible way. He
read aloud from his own works and, in especially
poetic passages, his "Alice" accompanied him with
arpeggios on the harp. If at that time I had had
any understanding of the mystical and occult side of
the great man who had penetrated so deeply into the
mysteries of the unseen world, I should have
honoured him, and tried to learn from him ; but at

MEYERBEER

that age Zanoni, and all his other works, were looked
upon as merely clever fantasies. It was only much
later that I developed an understanding for these
subjects. At that period all society was deep in
materialism. In any case, the author Bulwer was
more interesting than the man Lord Lytton.

This was not the case with Meyerbeer. The
animated and witty composer was very attractive
socially, and my parents were as fond of him as of
his operas. I became very friendly with his amiable
and clever daughter Cornelia, who later on married
the famous painter Richter. Every day she took
long walks with her father in the country surrounding
Nice and sometimes I was allowed to accompany
them. But as Meyerbeer was mostly in the throes
of composition during these walks, it was strictly
forbidden to utter a word. Cornelia's father really
only took her with him to prevent his falling or
having an accident, as he generally rushed onwards
with wide-opened eyes which beheld nothing but
their own imaginary world. This enforced silence
for hours did not suit me, and so I soon gave up
these walks.

The first time Meyerbeer visited our house a little
episode took place, which he often referred to with
laughter, adding that he really believed he had
entered a mad-house.

My father gave us all nicknames, which generally
had reference to something he had been reading, or
to personal names which had struck him. At this
time the little daughter of my Italian Colonel was
on a visit to us. Papa, on account of her coal-black
eyes and brown complexion, had christened her the
"Queen of Golconda," whilst his two youngest girls
— at that time aged four and five — were called
" General Bern " and " Little Dutch Beastie Kneppel-
haut." The three sat in the sunshine before the villa
when Meyerbeer called.

" Well, and what are your names ? "

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

The unexpected answers were :

"I am the Queen of Golconda."

" I am General Bern."

"And I, Dutch Beastie Kneppelhaut."

This gave rise to his idea of having entered a
mad-house.

We had glorious evenings when Meyerbeer played
us parts of his new works, and Baroness Vigier (once
in full fame at the Paris opera as Cruvelli) sang to
his accompaniment. She was just as beautiful a
woman as she was a great singer, and after marrying
the wealthy Baron Vigier was one of the greatest
entertainers in Nice.

Lady Brougham, with her husband the famous
statesman, likewise received all who had name or
fame in the Nice society. She was very fond of
giving fancy-dress balls, and of choosing personally
the costume in which her guests were to appear, in
order fully to carry out her ideas.

Once I had to appear as Satanella, another time
as Welleda — she declared she saw me as such, and so
I was obliged to realise her dreams. As Lord and
Lady Brougham generally received on Saturday
evenings — but according to English custom grew
"pious" and closed the house punctually at midnight
— all their guests usually adjourned in a body to the
neighbouring house of my dear friend, a beautiful
American, Mrs. Medora Ward, where dancing and
flirting were continued.

The luxurious Empress Nicholas, who was already
very old and feeble, had in her suite some lovely
maids of honour who were not precisely distinguished
for their virtue. All was merry and sans gene at
this Court, and much licence was permitted. These
beautiful ladies told me that at home in St. Petersburg,
when the Emperor Nicholas was still alive, they were
often obliged to let him warm his hands on their
necks (they being decolletees) when he was cold on
returning from a sleighing party. The Grand Dukes,

GRAND DUCHESS MARIE

who often visited their royal mother in Nice, seemed
frequently to suffer from cold hands without the
excuse of sleighing parties !

Since then times have changed, and the Russian
Court has become as moral as other Courts.

In addition to other f£tes, there was the splendid
Court of the Empress, and her magnificent balls
which were mostly des folks journees, beginning at
midday with lunch, followed by dancing and music
till 4, when tea and other refreshments were brought
in. Dancing was continued until supper -time, and
after supper only the mazurka was danced, and this
generally ended between 12 and 1 a.m.

The entertainments of the beautiful Grand
Duchess Marie, eldest daughter of the Emperor
Nicholas, were just as grand, and the widowed
Princess Leuchtenberg was, at the time I speak of,
remarried to the Russian Grand Seigneur Count
Strogonoff. Although he was perhaps thirty years
older than I, we struck up a great friendship. He
mothered "the child" as he said, in the great wicked
world, and I remember many little kindnesses on his
part. For instance, I had never learnt how to bear
hunger and fatigue, and at one of these folks
journees at the Grand Duchess's, supper was very
long in coming. Feeling famished, I sat in a corner
and wept from nervous exhaustion. Suddenly Count
Gregor (as the Grand Duchess's husband was called)
sat beside me, and asked quite anxiously, " What has
happened to the child ? "

Half laughing, half weeping, I told him of my
hunger, and he exclaimed compassionately, "Well, we
must remedy this immediately ! Supper will not be
ready for half an hour. Come, child, let us see what
we can find." We wandered through many empty
rooms, and at last found a magnificent buffet, where,
to the horror of the lackeys, we destroyed the
symmetry of many a choicely piled dish, for the
Count helped me with right goodwill. To this day

49 E

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

I am grateful to him for having saved me from
"death by starvation," as he jokingly said.

The evenings at the Grand Duchess Helene's
were of a more serious kind and less ostentatious.
She had a peculiar preference for my father, and was
then very busy with her scheme for the abolition of
serfdom in Russia. My father was familiar with
such schemes, as his own father had worked with
the Ministry of Stein-Hardenberg for the freedom
of bond service in Germany. The help was, therefore,
very welcome to the Grand Duchess.

While the two "statesmen" (for the Grand Duchess
was a sort of statesman) worked together in the
cabinet, we listened to the pianist Rubinstein, or to
other celebrities who were constantly her guests.
Sometimes I read aloud Bodenstedt's splendid trans-
lations of Lermontov and Puschkin, which were then
compared with the Russian originals, and gave rise
to many an animated discussion. In the midst of
this interesting cosmopolitan circle, where a very
wide margin was given to morals and customs, I
attained my fifteenth year, spoiled and flattered like
a young queen.

CHAPTER X

A few weeks later an important event took place,
namely, the breaking off of my engagement.

Our old friend Prince Barclay de Tolly fetched
us one day for a drive to Villefranche in order to see
the men-of-war lying there in harbour. It was a
glorious day ; the Riviera looked its best, and we
revelled in light, warmth, and the perfume of violets.
On the heights of Villefranche we met two Russian
naval officers, blond, young, slender, and smart
in their becoming white summer uniforms. They
looked after the carriage, then turned and followed
us. As the carriage could only advance slowly on
account of the hill, they soon caught us up. They
then climbed down the steep declivity in order to
receive us on our arrival, and kept a respectful
distance until they saw we intended going over to
the frigate. Then they approached us, introduced
themselves to the Prince, and to my father, as Baron
von Krusenstern, Lieutenant and Baron von Kotzebue
— midshipmen on the Palkan.

Prince Barclay was delighted to recognise in
them two countrymen from the Baltic provinces ; we
also had friends of the same name in Munich, a
battle-painter, Baron von Kotzebue, who married
Baroness Krusenstern. After looking over the fine
ship, the whole party was invited back to dine with
us, a carriage was soon procured, and we drove home
in the gayest mood.

I have never met such wild, merry young men

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

as these two cousins — Paul von Krusenstern, twenty,
Ernst von Kotzebue, nineteen years of age. They
had the refined manners of the " Kuric " nobility,
and, where necessary, the discipline of their strict
naval service.

The most congenial was Paul; the wittiest was
Ernst. In spite of his youth, Paul von Krusenstern
had already had an interesting life. The Emperor
had bestowed vast lands, in regions of eternal ice in
Petropavlovsk, upon Admiral von Krusenstern the
explorer, who was an ancestor of Paul's. At the age
of twelve he had made the dangerous voyage there
with his father, who was also an admiral, and had all
sorts of strange adventures with the men and animals
living there. He told us about it in the most amusing
way, so that one hardly knew what was drawn from
his vivid imagination or what from reality. I, who
resembled him in vivacity and impressionability,
listened with delight to his stories, and was fascinated
by them.

Within a few hours, both officers were head over
ears in love with me ; but I favoured Paul.

Soon they and their companions were introduced
to Nice society, and springtime with all its social
gaieties approached. Detained by the fleet, which
stayed in harbour, the Russian Count, with Grand
Duke Constantine Nicolairitah — Commander-in-Chief
of the Mediterranean squadron — remained in Nice
until the summer.

The Grand Duchesses took sea-baths, as we all
did, and amusements began early in the morning
with cavalcades and picnics, and ended at night with
dancing and champagne.

Speaking later of this mad time, I described it
thus : " It was society composed of the froth of all
grades, and no one cared what became of the froth
when the bubbles burst."

In our house, where there was a silent longing
for more serious things, we tried to read Victor

SOCIETY IN NICE

Hugo's dramas, dividing the parts amongst us, also
a few other French authors, but here again these
readings were only a cloak for flirtation.

The whole of society seemed to have been seized
with an erotic mania. I can remember no lady in
those days, whether married or single, who had not
her liaison ; and behaviour which at other times
would have been severely judged, was now winked at.

Let me quote one little characteristic episode.

There was an old Italian Marquise, who in her
youth had been the official mistress of King Carlo
Alberto of Piedmont. Her erect carriage and regular
but sharp features still bore evidence of her once
great beauty. She was known as one of the most
amusing society women, owing to the frankness with
which she discussed every topic, even the most risque,
but only, of course, when her grandchild was out of
earshot. For many years she had superintended the
education of this young lady. The Comtesse was an
insignificant sort of girl, possessing neither mental
nor bodily attractions. Her grandmother looked
after her most strictly.

She had no dowry, and in consequence of
this had remained unmarried in the adventurous
society of Nice. She was now twenty-five years of
age.

One day the grandmother, hitherto so rigidly
moral, called the Comtesse into her boudoir for a
serious talk. After looking at her for a time half in
pity, half in wonder, she said :

" Look here ! If you don't marry, would you not
like to behave as if you were married ? "

The girl looked at the old Marquise in complete
bewilderment. " What do you mean, grandmamma ? "
she said at length.

"Dear child! I mean that it is time for you to
take a lover ! "

" But, grandmamma, how can you make such
horrible jokes ? "

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

" I am not joking at all ! I can assure you that
when virtue (this was even more forcibly expressed)
becomes old, it pleases neither God nor the devil.

There is, for instance, that charming Count

courting you ! He has no money ; neither have you.
Marriage is out of the question, but he is just the
right person for a little love affair. If I were young,
I know what I should do ! "

The foolish virgin did not quite understand, and
did not act according to the above advice! The
grandmother told us, half in jest, half in anger, of
the stupidity of her granddaughter. She added, " I
cannot do more to further her happiness than tenir la
chandelle au bonheur ! But to show her how to do
it — that is too much ! She is too stupid."

I could give marvellous details of it all, but they
would sound like a novel of the eighteenth century —
I therefore remain silent. But one explanation I
must offer as an excuse for it. It was a cosmopolitan
society brought together for a short time. No one
had any feeling of moral responsibility towards any-
body. Each knew that he was never likely to meet
the other again, and this probably loosened all bonds
of morals and manners.

This disregard of all conventional rules was hardly
beneficial to any of them ; it was most pernicious
poison for all the young people, and deadly poison
for me, its youngest member. I have striven for
half my life to recover the rectitude I lost in those
days with their mixed conceptions of right and wrong
in social intercourse. I never regained any respect
for the world's code of honour, as I realised too well
its false values, and with my straightforwardness
despised the insincerity underlying it all.

Thus it was that the whole world knew almost as
soon as I did my love for Paul von Krusenstern. , I
made absolutely no secret of it. So intense was the
outbreak of my passion that Baron von Kotzebue
used to say in later years, " I have witnessed three

BREAKING OFF MY ENGAGEMENT

elemental forces in my life. I have been in a
typhoon ; I have seen one of the greatest volcanic
eruptions of this century ; and I was a spectator of
Helene von Donniges' first love."

To return to my narrative. No day passed that
did not see us together from morning till night, with
the exception of Paul's few hours' duty on board.
My parents, too occupied with their own affairs, had
no eyes for the awakening passion of their daughter,
and my beloved grandmother was obliged to leave us
at the end of the winter, as one of her sons needed
her. One important thing she had helped me to
achieve, the breaking of my engagement with the
detested Italian.

My dawning passion gave me a courage toward
my parents which I should not otherwise have
possessed. The Colonel had come back once more !
During his fortnight's stay, the frigate Palkan had
received orders to go to Naples. My Russian friends
were therefore away, but the ever-present image of
my beloved gave me courage to show my aversion
plainly to the Italian. I treated him as if he did not
exist A trifle brought about the climax. On a
previous occasion he had presented me with a very
costly little watch, which Paul von Krusenstern had
dropped and broken whilst he was winding it. The
Colonel, already excited by my behaviour, asked me
loudly, "Who did it?"

I answered mockingly, "The charming Russian
officer."

This was not the first occasion on which I had given
him this answer. This time he shouted angrily at me,
"Who is this Russian officer, that I maybreak his neck.
You seem to have bestowed various favours on him."

"Yes! that I have," I answered firmly, drawing
off my engagement ring and throwing it at the feet
of the enraged man. Then I opened the door, and
departed with the words, " There ! Now it is all over
between us, and I will never see you again."

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

In the next room I met grandmamma, and at
once told her everything. She kissed me and said,
" Heaven be praised that you have at last got so far.
Now let me arrange the rest."

She then discussed the affair with my parents and
the Colonel, and I heard nothing more about it. He
departed without my seeing him again.

CHAPTER XI

I now abandoned myself with every fibre of my
heart to love. It was so intense that no one dared
to interfere between us ; even several of my admirers
retired silently when they saw how much I preferred
Paul. The frigate had returned some time ago to
Nice. Amidst the orange blossoms and flowers, and
on the blue sea waves, in ball-rooms, and on horse-
back, we were oblivious of all else, and were like
young gods in the early days of mankind.

Society was amused, and people laughed at us,
for we took no pains whatever to hide our feelings.
Things went on like this for some time. We were
content with what life offered us in its many oppor-
tunities of meeting and embracing. But with the
long days of summer the longing to possess overcame
us in our youthfulness.

Two summer evenings rise before my mind's eye —
splendid, hot, and full of perfume. At a picnic we
two rode away from the rest of the party, and let our
horses wander where they would. Intoxicated with
our love, we arranged a rendezvous in the garden
by moonlight in an arbour of roses, for that night.

When the time came, I flew, rather than ran, to
the spot, where, hidden in the entwining roses, my
young lover awaited me.

But strange ! when I was quite near, my courage
failed me ; shame crept over me at what I was doing,
and my feet, which had borne me so lightly to the
spot, now seemed unable to carry me across the

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

threshold of the arbour. Paul — my wild Paul — re-
clined within. Whilst waiting for me he had strewn
the arbour with quantities of roses, and now began
showering them on me. I stood on the threshold in
a rain of flowers. Then he rose up. I remained at
the entrance and whispered :

"What am I to do?"

Then he laughed, and throwing the last of the
roses at me he called out, "Go! go! my sweetest
one, and if ever any one else begs you to come to a
rendezvous, then I shall say to him Go 1 "

I heard no more. I turned round, and rushed,
flew, exulting into the house, not knowing why I was
so glad, nor yet why immediately afterwards I was
weeping bitterly.

Another summer night ended differently. We
had neither of us discussed or arranged anything.
T had crept alone into the bower of roses. Beneath
the heavily scented sprays I lay, and dreamed, and
thought, and wished, and longed. There he stood,
then knelt beside me, and his voice, which always
intoxicated me, whispered, " I knew you would be
here ! "

We hardly said anything else. Love, youth, the
glorious summer night, these did as they have done
since time began, and youthful love existed. Oh !
blessed be that night of flowers.

Sei sie gesegnet jene Blutennacht I

A short time of mad intoxication followed, then the
Russian fleet left the Mediterranean.

Weariness and desolation entered my paradise,
and my young, longing heart.

Paul's father arrived soon afterwards to ask for my
hand in marriage for his son. How my pulses beat
when I knew the great question was being discussed !
I was not even asked what my wishes were. The
Admiral's communication as to the fortune and
prospects of his son did not satisfy my parents, and

REFUSAL OF MARRIAGE

under the pretext of not wishing their child to settle
in such desolate ice regions (where the Krusensterns'
possessions lay) they refused. Thus ended our
youthful dream.

Many years later, when I was free and stood alone
in life, Baron Ernst von Kotzebue asked me again, on
Paul's behalf, to become his wife. Herr von Kotzebue
was attached to the Russian Embassy in Berlin, and
I was living there studying for the stage. From
conversation with him and the friends of my youth,
I gathered that Paul's high spirits had led him into
many foolish scrapes. He was also a great gambler,
and on the brink of ruin. To his family I seemed to
be his orily hope of salvation. The old first love
could perhaps conquer and save him. But, apart from
the fact that the passion for gambling always filled
me with the greatest horror, my interests then were
all centred in the stage. Marriage with the lover of
my first youth attracted me no more. I therefore
declined the Baron's offer with thanks. I never saw
Paul again. A few years later he lost his life in a
bold expedition to the North Pole. The ship was
wrecked that he himself commanded. He was for
three weeks stranded on an iceberg with one member
of his crew. They had saved provisions and instru-
ments, but although he reached Petersburg alive, he
died of the consequences of this terrible journey.

At that time much was talked and written about
the young hero and his privations on the iceberg,
which had exhausted even his great power of re-
sistance.

I cherish an affectionate remembrance of him to
this day, and have often defended him against attacks
of friends who called him a base seducer. No ! a
thousand times no ! That he never was ! There was
never any question of " seduction " in our case. It
was the attraction of two young creatures towards
each other, perhaps without even the real great love.
This came in my case later ; the longing for love, for

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

a]l that is loving and beautiful. It was the working
of the wonderful south with its seduction, its whirl-
wind, and last, not least, the example of society. We
were both equally guilty, if there can be any question
of guilt — but both were equally happy.

Never have I for one moment repented of my
naive abandonment amid the scent of blossoms and the
song of nightingales, in the gentle murmur of the
moonlit silver sea, in the clear, sweet summer night.
Anything more burning, more beautiful, the old moon
or this old world has surely never seen.

Therefore, I say again, " Blessed be that summer
night ! "

CHAPTER XII

Until my eighteenth year I lived in Nice, but
these years can offer no special interest to the general
reader. Perhaps one ball may be considered an
exception, at which I was allowed to dance in the
same quadrille as the Empress Eugenie, who was
then at the zenith of her glory.

The Franco-Italian war against Austria was now
at an end, and the French troops returned home
amidst the rejoicings of the population of Nice. The
royal pair, Napoleon III. and the beautiful Empress,
had come to the boundary of their kingdom to greet
the victorious troops.

The ball was given to the royal pair by the town.

My father, as the only ambassador present, was
much honoured. Mamma was once again confined
to her bed, so I took her place at the ball. I was so
lost in admiration of this wonderful Empress Eugenie,
that in dancing in the royal quadrille with the Russian
Consul, I forgot to make the usual steps. Every-
thing was symmetrically perfect in her ; the slender,
graceful figure, with the beautifully modelled shoulders,
which were enhanced by the white dress she wore,
profusely embroidered with pearls and silver. Her
exquisite shape attracted me perhaps even more
than did the classically beautiful head, with the
noble regular features and the auburn hair, upon
which sparkled a royal diadem. Her charming
smile bewitched me as much as did the few friendly
words she addressed to me in her melodious voice.

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Napoleon, who danced in another quadrille, in-
spired me with a slight feeling of awe, though he
interested me with his blas£ expression and sharply
cut profile. I replied shyly and softly to his gracious
words, and all my life I raved about the beautiful
Empress.

Seven years later, when I was in Paris, I could
not understand that the love of the people and of
the Court seemed bestowed more upon the Emperor
than on the beautiful Empress. They called her
haughty and bigoted, cold-hearted and narrow-minded.
This was the opinion of her entourage ; they admired
her appearance, her love of show, her taste (although
it was she who introduced the crinoline to hide her
interesting condition), but she seemed to inspire very
few people with love. The Emperor, however, was
loved both as man and as ruler. I was told that
Napoleon was very much more hearty in his dealings
with the Royal Prince than the Empress was, for
she preferred discussing new modes with her dress-
makers to occupying herself with her little son's
education. I did not take much notice of these
opinions, because although for a time there was a
project for me to remain at this Court, nothing came
of it ; but of all this I shall speak later.

The years thus passed in the great world of Nice
did not help to improve my character. The behaviour
of my parents, who accepted or refused one suitor
after another (as years went on many such presented
themselves for me), taught me that fidelity was not
among the virtues demanded of me. I therefore
acted as all those around me did, and flirted with
one after another.

If, as was inevitable in this great cosmopolitan
caravanserai, parting soon followed — well, one consoled
oneself more or less quickly ; no one cared or asked
anything about one's feelings in the matter ; one
laughed, and pitied nothing and no one !

Instead of fidelity, two other feelings were

FANATICAL LOVE OF TRUTH

awakened in me, and they became deep signs of
character which accompanied me all through life :
the conviction of the equal rights of man and woman
in love affairs (especially with childless women, such
as I was, and remained) ; the knowledge of the
evanescence of love, and the absolute love of truth.
Every man who approached me tried to prove to
me that such an exceptional being as I was not born
for fidelity. Of course they applied the same argu-
ments to other women, as I knew, with the result
that I became almost fanatical in my love of frank-
ness. " Never will I lie to, or cheat any one about
myself," became in me a sort of clarion cry, the
motto of my life's action. I lived up to it, if I
often suffered deeply, even risking the happiness of
my life for it.

Only a short span of careless youth was granted
me by Fate, which stepped towards me with ruthless
tread, showing no mercy for my acquired and natural
weaknesses, and punishing me cruelly through myself.

The mad joys of youth ended for ever.

PART IV

In Berlin once more — Yanko my spiritual possession — With
the master W. von Kaulbach — President Bonseri, Baron
Korff, and other friends of Lassalle' s — Lassalle enters
my life — Mutual impressions — Yanko as confidant — At
the jurists' ball^ and later — Long separation — Grand-
mother's death — Geneva — Meeting on the Rigi — En-
gagement — At home — At the hotel with Lassalle— At
a friend's — Terrible scenes — Dreadful times before the
duel — Lassalle's death — What happened afterwards —
Why I nevertheless married Yanko — Wallachia — Mar-
riage — Sad short union — Yanko's death and burial.

For all who are interested in this story, this portion
of my reminiscences is the most important.

Many years ago in my little book, My Connection
with Lassalle (Schottlander, 1879), I published many
details which I must now repeat, in order to reproduce
my conversation with Lassalle and his most extra-
ordinary views. His words have sunk into my heart
and mind in his own fascinating voice and manner
of delivery, and I seem only able to reproduce them
in full.

Beside Lassalle's words, and the events as I saw
them, and as I now endeavour faithfully to reproduce
them, there is my present version of all which led to
the fearful catastrophe involving the death of one of
the most wonderful men of all time. This ranks as
far above my first effort as the speech of ripe man-
hood does above the halting expression of a child.

The story I wrote then of the events in our
household was written chiefly in order to let the
world know what humiliations and cruelties I suffered,
and what pressure was put upon me to make me act
as I did ; to show the world my real self, and to tell
the truth which only I could know.

To-day matters are different. All broad-minded
people who have looked with unbiased views on the
tragedy of those days, have judged the unhappy
heroine more justly. Other work than mine, namely,
the publication of Lassalle's letters in the work written
by a high German official, The Sorrows of Lassalle ;
George Brandes's Lassalle s Biography, and other
books, have done much to dispel the false impressions
arising from garbled misstatements.

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

I myself, standing now on the brink of old age,
look at everything more calmly and clearly, and am
capable of judging more impartially by virtue of the
knowledge I have since acquired, in the shape of
intimate letters, etc. I am thus able to give a more
complete picture of the great man than was possible
at that time. This new version is almost a necessity
of to-day.

Whenever I have found it needful in order to
preserve the sequence of events to quote certain
details already published in my previous work, I have
notified this fact in a footnote.

CHAPTER XIII

I am unable to remember the exact reasons which
led me to my sojourn in Berlin with grandmamma
in 1862. She felt lonely, and I felt grateful to be
her chosen comforter. My mother and I never
understood each other, but my whole heart went out
to my grandmother. It was possible that during her
long stay with us in Munich she thought it advisable
to remove me from the frivolous life which she con-
sidered would be baneful to my character, and wished
to do this before it was too late.

On our arrival in Berlin she insisted on a regular
course of study. I attended Professor Werner's
lectures on Goethe and Shakespeare at the University,
and was taken to certain operas and plays, and was
also made to study classical music. In short, the girl
who had been allowed to run wild on the shores of
the blue Mediterranean was now taken well in hand,
and new interests soon made the memory of those
wild days appear like a mad carnival dream.

It was autumn when we returned to the north,
and I, who had always been accustomed to the
southern atmosphere, suffered from the climate. The
coolness of social intercourse, too, made me feel as if
I had been transported to another planet : " I am
forced to breathe Polar atmosphere ; you are all
icebergs in Berlin," I often exclaimed ; and " Oh
for a Southerner with hot blood in his veins ! "

And he came! One day when the University
holidays were over, he stood before me. My dark

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

fairy-prince, my Moorish page as I often called him,
Yanko von Racowitza, who became from that moment
— until his early death — my faithful and beloved
friend.

For it was loving friendship with which he inspired
me, not love itself. He was too boyish, and mentally
too undeveloped, for the latter; but his great love
for me, and thorough understanding of my peculiar
temperament, his charming personality and amiability,
combined with his musical talent and enthusiasm for
everything noble and beautiful, all contributed to
make the tie between us one of the closest.

He played a leading part in our circle of friends,
who loved him for his amiability, good looks, and
modesty. He was always ready to please, too, with
his delightful musical talent.

Our conversation was generally lin French, and we
read together most of the new French authors of the
time. No restriction had been placed by my grand-
mother, or by my parents, on the books I read. In
fact, during the phase of our development we shared
every impression, artistic and otherwise, and became
the closest companions.

At this time Wilhelm von Kaulbach,the celebrated
painter, was finishing his frescoes in the Berlin
Museum. His artistic eye delighted in the contrast
between my red-gold beauty and that of my dusky
Moor.

One morning in the Museum he wished me to
mount his scaffolding and sit for the colour of my
red-gold hair, which he required for one of his figures,
and I told Yanko to come and amuse me during the
sitting. This turned out to be needless, as Kaulbach
himself was in the most imaginative mood.

As he stood there painting he told us fairy tales
of ancient Greece. On the wings of his fantastic
imagination he carried himself and me back to former
incarnations when, he said, I was the friend of Pericles,
and he conversed with the gods.

YANKO VON RACOWITZA

The charm of that hour is still in my memory, and
when Yanko and I stepped into the daylight of the
Lustgarten, we felt as if we had emerged from a
fairy castle, the portals of which had been opened to
us by the hand of genius.

At that time Emil Paleske, the writer of Schiller's
life, and the greatest dramatic reciter of his time,
came to Berlin. I listened in breathless delight to
his magnificent rendering of the dramas of all our
greatest poets, which he recited by heart.

He soon became a great friend of grandmamma
and myself, and we passed delightful evenings reading
many well-known works. We read Faust, Egmont,
and Iphigenie ; and one of my greatest regrets is that
I was not allowed at that time to follow the bent of
my own inspiration, and become an actress. I
might have developed into a great artist, and the
whole of my life been more harmonious. As it was
my best powers were maimed by the tragedies of my
life, and it was only with broken wings that in after-
years I took the longed-for flight. Later ! Too late !

As time went on the studies which Yanko and I
pursued together, and our mutual enthusiasm for art,
made us even closer friends than before ; more and
more I recognised his nobility of soul.

At last one day he knelt before me, and with
broken voice implored me to marry him when his
studies were completed. I replied, " If in the mean-
time I can find no one whom I can love far, far better
than you, and if I do not go on the stage, which I
would do now were it not for silly family reasons —
then I will marry you." This was surely no engage-
ment, not even a promise of any kind ; but he felt
himself consecrated to me from that moment, and
gave me his entire life and love.

In those days I was not worthy of this love ; I
accepted it like that of so many others, with a light
heart and as a matter of course, just as a blossoming
tree in springtime accepts floods of sunshine.

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Love, with all the intoxication of the senses, was
as necessary to me and my nature as the sun is to
the flower ; but in those days I had not learnt to
treasure it as a gift of God, nor did I appreciate
Oscar Wilde's words when he said: "Love is a
sacrament which we should receive kneeling, and
upon the lips and hearts of those who partake of it
should be written Domine non sum dignus" I was
still very far from feeling this.

Then came the winter — Ferdinand Lassalle entered
my life, and all else faded into shadow.

At that time one of the most delightful and
hospitable houses in Berlin was that of old President
Bonseri and his amiable, white-haired, dainty wife,
whom I nicknamed "Old Butterfly." This was
almost the only house where one met indiscriminately
artists, men of letters, officers, and the high official
world. The " Old Butterfly " had taken me to her
heart, and grandmamma permitted me to go there
unchaperoned.

It was on the evening of a ball. I had danced a
great deal, felt a little bored, and looked round in
the noisy crowd for some one with whom I could
have an interesting little talk.

I saw Augusta Formes, awell-known Shakespearian
actress, conversing with an officer of dragoons. As
I went towards her she exclaimed joyfully, "Ah!
Now I can introduce my clever friend Baron Korff
to you. He did not take his eyes off you while you
were dancing, you golden nixie child ! Fraulein
von Donniges is a remarkable phenomenon, not a
mere society damsel."

I happened to know he was not of the ordinary
officer type, as I had heard about him already from
his sister-in-law, Cornelia Meyerbeer, in Nice. She
had told me all about his wild days in Berlin and
how, when stationed here, he had spent his money
recklessly, had been the hero of many adventures,
yet at the same time a favourite friend of

FERDINAND LASSALLE

Alexander von Humboldt and of other eminent
people.

I was in my element in the animated conversation
that followed, and had made them laugh at one of
my unconventional speeches, when Frau Formes was
called away and Korff said suddenly, " Ah ! You
know Lassalle ! "

I had never even heard his name, so replied
indifferently, " No ! Who is it ? "

To this question Korff made no reply, and we con-
tinued conversing about all sorts of things. Suddenly
he exclaimed, " You must know him, for only a
woman who knows Lassalle could talk as you do."

I answered almost irritably, " No ! Who is this

The Baron became suddenly serious and said,
" Oh ! let all the smaller souls around us deny him ;
but let us two confess to each other that we both
know and admire him."

My curiosity was now thoroughly aroused. "I
give you my word of honour I do not know him —
have never even heard his name. Who is it ? "

Korff replied, "Well then, I can only regret
every hour that passes without your knowing each
other ; you are the only woman I can imagine as a
fitting mate for him."

Is it to be wondered at that my curiosity was
now aroused to the extreme, and that I exclaimed,
" Good heavens ! Who is the man ? "

" A great revolutionist, and the most interesting
man I know, whose extraordinary mind makes him
dangerous alike to men and women."

" Ah, to women also ! "

He smiled : " Are you jealous already ? "

" No ! But tell me more," I said.

"Very well, but not here. Let us ask Frau
Formes to take us now to her flat (she lived on the
same floor). She knows him well, and we can tell you
all about him there."

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

I gladly consented and we left the ball-room for an
hour. Ensconced in a cosy corner of Frau Formes's
boudoir, I listened intently to all they both told me
of him.

The social side of Lassalle's life, and his relations
with women, seemed to interest them more than the
political ; therefore I heard much of the former and
nothing of the latter.

First and foremost they mentioned Countess
Hatzfeld as a terrible person who smoked huge cigars,
wore thick false eyebrows and a red wig, and who —
from being his former mistress — had now become an
absolute tyrant.

They then spoke of a more recent love-affair ; the
name of Sophie was mentioned, and many others. I
was interested, but not more so than I should have
been in the adventures of any other unknown person.
So at last I stood up saying, "It is getting late, let
us return to the ball-room."

No more was said on the subject and this little
episode made no deep impression on me, as my head
was full of a thousand other things ; but fate was
working.

A few weeks later I was taken to dinner, at a
large party, by Dr. Carl Oldenburg, one of the
wittiest men in Berlin. From light and amusing
topics we fell upon deeper subjects, when he suddenly
exclaimed, " You might be a pupil of ' Heraclitus the
Dark,' or, in vulgar parlance, of Ferdinand Lassalle, —
or better still, you might be his wife, the only woman
I can imagine as such."

Here again — almost the same words as Baron
Korff had spoken.

" Do you also know him ? " I remarked half shyly.

" Know him ? Say, rather, love and admire him.
I am proud of being his best friend."

He then told me all about his friend's great work,
Heraclitus the Dark, and spoke of him as one of
Germany's most learned men, dangerous alike to men

FERDINAND LASSALLE

and women, and then he whispered mysteriously,
"Even our iron Bismarck is said to be under his
ban."

" But I thought he was a revolutionist," I said,
astonished.

At this moment the dinner ended, and with it our
conversation.

My thoughts often reverted to that evening.
Next day I asked grandmamma about Lassalle. I
had come to the right person 1

" He is a terrible man," she said. " He wants all
the rich to divide their goods with the poor."
" Well," I replied, " so did Jesus Christ ! "
" He was also mixed up in a horrible case of theft ;
I do not know the exact facts of the case, but anyhow
he is an awful creature whom no one in good society
receives."

I was silent, but in no way convinced. Next, I
questioned Yanko, who evidently knew little more.
He merely gave me a few more details regarding the
" Cassette " story, then added, " But how can a man
interest you whom you are sure never to meet in our
circle ? "

CHAPTER XIV

Amongst our acquaintances was a charming couple
called Hirsemenzel. The husband was a lawyer, and
my uncle's friend, and they gave the most original
parties every Tuesday evening, from which nonenti-
ties were rigidly excluded. Madame H. knew of my
growing interest in Lassalle, and as I entered her
drawing-room one Tuesday evening she whispered to
me, " Lassalle is here in my husband's library,
so your desire to know him will be fulfilled at
last."

" I should like to hear him first. Do not introduce
him to me at once," was my whispered reply.

I was then placed on a little stool at the back of
a tall sofa through the carved framework of which 1
could see the folding doors leading into the library.
They opened, and two gentlemen stepped with the
host into the lighted drawing-room.

I do not know why, but having heard continually
of Lassalle's mind and erudition, I had imagined him
to be a little man with strongly marked Jewish
features. As a matter of fact 1 had not thought
much about his personal appearance, and one of the
men was exactly as I have just described. With
him entered a tall figure with a Cassar-like head and
expression.

It never entered my head that this could be
Lassalle — the little Jew must be he ! Clever men
are ugly ; but the tall, imposing one began to speak,
and I forgot all else.

FIRST MEETING WITH LASSALLE

I could only listen and listen, and at last, in a
flash, I realised that it must be he and no other.

Everyone in the room listened spellbound to his
conversation, which was stormy and powerful, sweep-
ing over everything I had hitherto considered as
unalterable and sacred.

He came into my life like the storm-wind that
rushes over forests and plains, and destroys all that
is crumbling and effete. I listened entranced, en-
thusiastic, but nevertheless not agreeing with every-
thing he was saying. Suddenly I sprang up, and
forgetting that this man had never seen me, I
interrupted him by exclaiming, "No! I do not
agree with you there."

For one moment he stopped ; the eagle glance of
his commanding blue eyes was directed upon me, then
a smile crept over his classic features, and stepping up
to me he said softly, " Ho, ho ! so this is what she
looks like ! I thought so ! That's all right. And "
— laughing heartily — "'iVb' is the first word I hear
spoken by this mortal ? "

It was all over. In that very first moment he
could have said that which he did a little later : " We
both knew that we had met our destiny in each
other,"

The people around us were forgotten. We
became oblivious of the little salon and all conven-
tions. We discussed anything and everything be-
tween heaven and earth. We spoke of ourselves,
and he mentioned our future, as if we belonged to
each other as a matter of course, and as if our union
were known and sanctioned by all.

Of course we remained together the whole evening.
According to the original and conventional traditions
of the household the guests were asked to decide
what they would prefer to eat, and this was procured
from a restaurant near by. The host's ample and
famous wine-cellar was at the disposal of the guests,
and bottle after bottle of the costliest wine was

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

placed before them. The evening passed like a
dream.

When at last my relations got up to leave, Lassalle
came out into the hall with me, wrapped me up care-
fully in my cloak, and, impatient at the long farewells
in the drawing-room, opened the door of the flat,
lifted me high in his arms, and carried me downstairs.

No protest was made by me at such an absolutely
incredible proceeding ! It all seemed to me so
natural — so much a matter of course. My happiness
made me oblivious of the world, and everything he
uttered seemed to flow from my own soul !

It was only when we had arrived at my door, and
when he said to me, "To-morrow I am coming to
grandmamma to get her consent," that I suddenly
awoke to the dreadful reality that this man to whom
I had given in one instant my whole heart for all
eternity, would never be accepted by any member of
my family. Tremblingly I implored him not to do
this, but to wait patiently, as the time had not yet
come to take such a step.

Seeing my anxiety he sighed and acquiesced, but
said half-warningly, " May we never regret the time
we are losing."

We parted, and it was many, many months before
we met again.

Now, when I look back at the way I then acted, I
can hardly realise that I was the undecided being who
allowed family considerations to play havoc with my
happiness and that of the man I adored.

It is easy enough, when one knows the end, to
look back and say one should have acted otherwise,
but I was so young then, life seemed so long, and
confidence in the future a natural thing.

I now began to take the greatest interest in all
Lassalle's work and speeches.

I said to Yanko next day, " I have met Lassalle,
and if he really wishes it I mean to marry him ; he is
the ideal of the man I have always sought,"

STUDY OF LASSALLE'S WORKS

hi In heaven's name," he exclaimed horrified, " a
man whom you have only seen for a few hours, and
at a time when he and his friends were excited by
wine and eloquence, a man of whom we have heard
only the most unfavourable reports ? "

I flared up. " Say nothing against him. I don't
ask your opinion, but only tell you facts. Now be
good. Prove you love me, and get me everything
Lassalle has ever written."

He did so. The reading of these pamphlets was
not an easy matter to accomplish, and we had re-
course to the ruse of slipping them inside the classical
works. Yanko and I studied together every evening.

In the next room grandmamma, my old uncle,
and my young aunt usually sat playing Ihombre. My
dear little Aunt Sophie, who was much nearer my
age than that of her husband, was in our secret, and
when grandmamma overheard a word now and then,
and asked what we were reading, Aunt Sophie replied,
" Oh, they are trying a Greek philosopher that
Racowitza has brought with him." Thus, no one
troubled about us, and we became more and more
entranced with Lassalle's burning eloquence.

We also tried to read Heraclitus the Dark, but it
seemed too difficult to understand, so we laid it aside,
although Yanko — who was studying law at the
Berlin University — promised to help me over the
technical difficulties.

I have often been reproached with having a
certain strain of cruelty in my nature, and there may
be some truth in this. I always demanded and ob-
tained from my admirers unequivocal recognition of
the superior qualities of their favoured rivals. In
Yanko's case, when he at first refused to study
Lassalle's works with me, I said, " You must. You
owe it to yourself. You ought to know how great is
the intellect of the man I prefer to you, for when
you recognise the superiority of his mind your pride
will no longer suffer/'

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

He gave in, though with an anxious heart, but as
from the first his literary tastes had been fashioned
on the pattern of mine, I knew he could not resist
the force of Lassalle's glowing spirit. We read the
" Cassette " case with the greatest interest, and this
gave me a deeper insight into Lassalle's character.
Yanko was carried away by Ferdinand's youthful
enthusiasm, and by his famous speech of defence, in
which Countess Hatzfeld is described as one of the
noblest of women, brutally maligned by an unfaithful
husband.

We had both heard, as no doubt have many of my
readers, very superficial details of the once famous
" Cassette" theft case, which took place in 1848. It
had been mentioned in my family as a very nasty
affair. The real facts were as follows : Count
Hatzfeld had deserted his young and beautiful wife
for the sake of his mistress Frau von Megendorf, and
had thrown her on the world with hardly any means
of subsistence. At that time Lassalle, who was then
a youth of twenty, met and, it was said, loved her.
He devoted all his youth and brilliant capacities in
the defence of her cause, renouncing, for her sake, all
the splendid possibilities the future held for one who
completed his studies with such distinction. I had
not the slightest doubt that she fully responded to
his love. How could it be otherwise, when to-day,
though nearly forty, he was still so handsome and
imposing, so like a Roman Caesar. What power he
must have held in the full flush of his youthful
beauty.

Lassalle had denied before the judges at Diisseldorf
all intimate intercourse with the Countess. To us
this was but another proof of chivalry. Full of
emotion we read the following words in his speech
for the defence : " Not a word from the entire family.
An old proverb says that when human beings remain
dumb, stones will cry out. When every right of
humanity is outraged, when even the voice of blood

THE "CASSETTE" STORY

is silent, and a helpless human being is deserted by
its born protectors, let the voice of universal brother-
hood be raised and man usurp his right to shield his
weaker fellow-man."

How often I remembered these words in later
years, when I was deserted by all, and longed in vain
for a helping hand.

I learnt during the perusal of the case that the
reproach against Lassalle of accepting pecuniary aid
from Countess Hatzfeld was unj ust. Until he
brought her divorce case to a satisfactory end he
shared with her the modest income allowed him by
his father ; and during ten years of his life devoted
his entire time and talents to her cause. Then, and
then only, he allowed her to settle a certain yearly
income on him, as surely she would have done by
any eminent lawyer who had sacrificed years of work
and study in her service. I may mention here that
Ferdinand himself told me later on in the Berne
period, when speaking of his pecuniary position, that
his income was about £1000 a year (seven thousand
talers), the chief portion of which was derived from
the shares his father had left him in the Breslau gas-
works.

To return to the " Cassette " story. Lassalle left
no stone unturned in order to prove Count Hatz-
feld's brutality to his wife, and his utterly reckless ex-
penditure on gifts to Frau von Megendorf. These
immense sums threatened to ruin thefamily. Lassalle's
great object was to obtain the Count's correspondence
and these deeds of gift.

In this he was successful. Two of his friends,
Oppenheim and Mendelssohn, managed, when on a
journey, to steal, either from Frau von Megendorf, or
from her servants, the casket which contained, as it
was supposed, all these important papers. Lassalle
was accused of being the instigator of this theft, but
proved (when only twenty years of age), in a speech
of defence lasting four hours, that this was impossible.

81 G

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

He was acquitted, and by his eloquence in this, his
first public speech, became the greatest German
orator.

Now came the time when Lassalle was the central
figure of my existence, and by some fatality I heard
of him continually without ever meeting him again.
At Lassalle's instigation various plans were made by
my kind friend Frau Formes to bring us together
under her hospitable roof, but none of them were
successful.

My grandmamma's house stood then on the present
site of the Houses of Parliament. In one of the flats
lived the famous historian Boeckh with his family, in
the very dwelling once occupied by the brothers
Grimm (authors of the well-known fairy tales). We
often visited the Boeckhs, and one afternoon at
coffee the conversation turned on Lassalle.

Old Boeckh said in response to some remark,
"Lassalle is the most eminent and witty man I
know."

I could have hugged him ; then a noted society
beauty added, " Lassalle is the handsomest man I
have ever seen." Old Boeckh smiled, and told a
story of how Lassalle had helped Heinrich Heine
in Paris in 1846, when the latter was involved in
complicated affairs ; Heine spoke of himself as an
antelope who had placed himself under the protection
of a young lion, and when Lassalle returned to Berlin
gave him several rapturous letters of recommendation
to various eminent people. " But," said one of those
present, "this Lassalle, friend of the working class,
leads a most immoral and luxurious life in the
Bellevue Strasse with his old Countess. He lives in
a princely way."

The speaker, however, had come to the wrong
person, for the historian replied angrily, " Oh well,
if you want to judge exceptional people by the
ordinary moral standards, then you cannot understand
them. Lassalle's character is a curious mixture of

HEINE'S OPINION OF LASSALLE

the ancient and modern — perhaps only comparable in
history with that of Alcibiades ; hypersensitive, yet
brave ; a warrior, yet with a keen appreciation of the
art of luxurious living. During my long life I have
not known his equal."

This was a proud moment for me, to hear such
praise of the man to whom I felt I belonged entirely,
and by such a competent judge. Boeckh also spoke
of his eminence in philology, philosophy, and states-
manship, and added, "His speeches for defence
testify to his extraordinary capacity as an advocate."

I will now quote Heinrich Heine's famous letter
to Lassalle, written on January 3, 1846, when the
latter was only twenty years of age, as it may interest
many of my readers to hear the great opinion the
brilliant poet had of this young man.

My friend Mr. Lassalle, who will present this letter to you,
is a most highly gifted young man, and one who unites the
widest knowledge with the greatest astuteness. I have been
astounded at his energy of will power, of conception, and
promptness of action. This combination of knowledge and
strength, talent and character, in one so young has been a
great surprise as well as a delight to me. Lassalle is a true
child of modern times ; one who wishes to know nothing of the
renunciation and humility which have been the keynotes of our
lives.

This new race wishes to enjoy, to assert itself in a visible
manner ; whereas we old ones bent the knee before the invisible
world, reached forth for shadowy kisses, and the scent of azure
blossoms. We were consumed by fires of exultation, and were
maybe happier in our idealism than these stern gladiators who
go forth so proudly to their deadly combats.

Shortly after this I heard still more interesting
details of him from another source.

I knew a lady who was the wife of one of
Bismarck's confidential secretaries. The lady herselt
was not clever, but as her husband was very much in
love with her, he had no secrets from her. He had
spoken to her of my acquaintance with Lassalle, and
of old Boeckh's praises of him. She was a child of

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

the people, and had never been able to acquire the
manners of society, or learn the diplomacy of
silence. Hence the following speech : " My good-
ness! That's just Bismarck's opinion of Lassallel
My husband says that Bismarck is simply delighted
with him, and that no one's conversation has in-
terested him so much for a long time."

"Really," I exclaimed. "Then what I heard
whispered is true, that Lassalle is a great deal with
Bismarck."

" Yes, certainly, but "

The conversation was at this moment interrupted
by the entrance of her husband who, on hearing the
subject of our conversation, said to his wife : "Hush,
hush ! Do not speak of things you do not under-
stand. Women should not mix in politics."

But I had heard enough to delight me. In later
years my thoughts reverted to that afternoon and
her naive revelations, when I read Bismarck's
celebrated parliamentary speech, which was as
follows : —

In private life Lassalle possessed an extraordinary attraction
for me, and was one of the most witty and amiable men I have
ever met. A man who was ambitious in the greatest sense of the
word. He was by no means a republican, his turn of mind was
distinctly national and monarchical, and his ideas gravitated
towards German Imperial Government. Here, of course, we met
on common ground. I think he was somewhat doubtful as to
whether this Imperial Government would be better entrusted
in the hands of the Hohenzollern or the Lassalle Dynasty, but
in any case his opinions were monarchical through and through.
He would have been the first to repudiate all connection with
the various agitating parties who now profess to be his followers ;
and would have torn his name from their standards and hurled
them indignantly from him. He was a most energetic and
clever man, and I found our conversations, which sometimes
lasted for hours, most instructive. I was always sorry when
they ended.

He and I had not met again. In the meantime
I had become much attached to a charming couple

SOLICITOR HOLTHOFF

named Holthoff, old family friends, who had come
to settle in Berlin. Grandmamma's health was
beginning to fail, so I was allowed to go to balls,
theatres, and concerts under their chaperonage.

One evening we all went to one of Billow's
concerts, and before it began Papa Holthoff, as I
called him, left his seat to chat with some friends.
The first person I saw him shake hands with was —
Lassalle ! Then Holthoff came back to us. My
heart beat wildly. This was the first time I had seen
the man I secretly loved, since that one memorable
evening.

"You know Lassalle," I said softly.

" Of course, I have been his friend and lawyer for
many years. Do you know him too ? "

"No, no!"

The music now interrupted our conversation. In
the interval Holthoff went up again to Lassalle. I
saw them both talking and looking towards me.
Lassalle smiled. When Holthoff returned, he said,
" Now, little daughter, out with it. What is there
between you and Lassalle ? "

" What do you mean ? "

" He received me with almost the same words
that you uttered just now. 'Do you know Fraulein
von Donniges?' and when I said, 'Yes; do you? 5
he replied, * No, no,' — just as you did. What does it
all mean ? "

" Nothing, we met once, and then no more."

" But wish you had, eh ? "

"Yes, very much."

" Very well. That's not difficult. Both of you
are like our own children to us."

How happy I felt that evening, for our hasty
greeting and hand pressure in the cloak-room had
conveyed to us both the unsaid words, "Nothing has
changed. We belong to each other."

The next occasion on which we met was at a
festival in honour of Uhland, the poet. I was sur-

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

rounded by my family, and he sat near us with the
Holthoffs. We had no opportunity of conversing,
but our glances conveyed to each other the sympathy
of our thoughts.

Soon after this a dreadful thing happened.

Papa Holthoff, without consulting me, asked my
grandmother how my family would receive an offer
from Lassalle to marry me ! Grandmamma wrote to
my father about it. He was then acting as Bavarian
Minister in Berne, and answered by a most indignant
refusal.

When told of all this by grandmamma, I replied,
" How can you have done such a thing without
Lassalle's or my permission 1 I shall take no notice
of it whatever."

We never mentioned the subject again.

One of the most brilliant public balls of the season,
given by members of the bar, was about to take
place. I was going to it with the Holthoffs, and
" Papa " had whispered to me that a certain well-
known man, who never went to balls, had applied for
a ticket, because he wanted to talk to me undisturbed,
and this was best managed in such a crowd.

The decisive moment was at hand, and I intended
to meet it fully armed. I started, as poor Yanko
said later, "adorned like a king's bride."

I was in white silk — white has always been my
favourite colour — with white roses and sheaves of
silver corn in my red-gold hair.

As I entered the crowded ball-room on HolthofFs
arm the dear old man said, " Let us go and seek the
hero of the day."

" He is not here yet," I replied.

" How can you possibly know that in this crowd ?
Even I, who am taller than most people, cannot see
if he is here or not."

" No ! I know he is not here," I said again, " for
I have not the strange sensation I always get when
he is near me."

CONVERSATION WITH LASSALLE

" In heaven's name, little daughter, don't begin to
get nerves."

" Now he is coming," I exclaimed, and Holthoff
nodded in astonishment, for there in the doorway,
speaking to a friend, stood Lassalle, who then came
straight towards us.

The feeling I have just mentioned is difficult to
define. It was a mixture of bliss and fear ; some-
thing I have never experienced either before or since.
My heart seemed to contract within me, and at the
same time my soul flew towards him rejoicing. As a
matter of course he simply removed my arm from
Holthoff's, placed it within his own, and led me to a
corner for a serious talk. "For," said he, "we have
important things to discuss, and my time is short. I
cannot run the gauntlet here for long."

" Run the gauntlet ? " I replied.

" Yes ! Every one will wonder what Lassalle, the
man of the people, can be doing here ! He ought to
be at home studying. Not that I care for people's
gossip, as, thank heaven, I don't carry the donkey ;
and, mark you well, child, no one who comes with
me will ever be allowed to carry it."

" What on earth do you mean ? " I asked, laughing.

" Ah ! That story marks an epoch in my life.
My father wished me to go into business, but I
wanted to study. There were great discussions, in
which all my relations and friends joined. Strife
entered our household. My mother and sisters sided
with me, the others with my father, and, 'What
will people say ? ' was heard on every side. I took
up an old book of fables and read a story of a grand-
father with his grandchild who were driving a donkey
into the town. A man met them and said, 'Why
on earth do you let the donkey bear no burden ? Let
him carry the child.' And so the grandfather did.
A second person came along and said, 'Aren't you
ashamed, young one, to be riding with your young
legs when your grandfather is walking ? ' The boy

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

got down and the old man got up. Next they met a
woman who called out, ' Poor child ! Look at the
hard-hearted father riding comfortably, whilst his
poor little child has to run after him.' At this the
grandfather took the child as well upon his donkey,
who trotted on merrily with the two of them. But
not for long ; for next they met a scholar with stock
and spectacles who called out, * For shame ! For
shame ! to torment a poor animal so. Two of you
on his back in such heat!' At this they both got
down, and in utter despair lifted the donkey up bodily
and carried him into the town. Thus they tried to
please every one."

I laughed heartily. He was delighted, but added,
" Make no mistake. Neither of us is to carry the
donkey. It is chiefly owing to that little story that
I take no notice of what people say, and go my own
way."

I looked up at him admiringly. Yes ! That
proud Cassar-like head with its dominating, deep-blue
eyes, was the very incarnation of energy.

I told him this, and he said, " I shall need it all
for my ' fox.' Of course you know that Korff calls
you * Golden Fox ' ? When he first met you he came
rushing to me the next morning and called out in the
doorway, ' Lassalle, I have found a wife for you, but
she is a fox.'"

So we chatted gaily for a time. Then he said
seriously, " Time presses, and I must begin my plan
of campaign. Tell me, what are your father and
mother like ? How can I win their good graces ? I
will make Boeckh give me a letter of introduction to
them, and will go and see them."

I felt terrified. He saw it, and said, " You see
how necessary my energy is, for in spite of being a
woman of the world you are still a little weak child,
with no will at all. Never mind ! I will manage
everything without your help."

I then described my parents and their tastes, and

A BIRTHDAY GIFT

my home. He said, " This is delightful. They will
receive a scholar and poet with open arms."

How often have I since wished that he had carried
his project into execution then, and seen my parents
before other people had poisoned their minds against
him. How different everything might have been ! I
then told Lassalle of that afternoon at old Boeckh's,
and how a pretty woman said he was the handsomest
man she had ever seen. This pleased him enormously.
" I don't care for all Boeckh's praises of my talents,
but to be the handsomest man means something.
I'll have that inscribed on my tombstone," he said,
laughing.

Another incident that happened in the ball-room
was that Yanko— my Moorish page — came up to
ask me to dance. " Is that Lassalle," he said. I
nodded. His dark eyes blazed with jealousy, and I
said, " Anyway he looks distinguished," and we
danced madly until the music ended, when he took
me back to Mamma Holthoff. Lassalle stood beside
her and for a second they eyed each other, then Yanko
turned and mingled with the crowd. The next time
Lassalle and Yanko met it was with levelled weapons.

Lassalle said, " So that is the Moorish prince I
am to take you away from ? "

I answered, " Oh, that is a matter of no import-
ance."

"With those eyes? Never mind! I will give
you up to no one. I would carry you off from the
altar itself before you could say ' yes ' — for mark you,
we are each other's Fate ! "

Thus ended our happy evening. We met no more
that winter.

My birthday, March 21, arrived. I generally
received on that day poems referring to Spring, in a
huge basket of flowers. This time there was an
anonymous poem amongst them, but a reference to
" Fox " and the monogram " F. L. " upon the paper,
told me where they came from. This dear poem, as

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

well as the letters of Lassalle, were all taken away
from me by the cruelty of my father.

I cannot hold my peace, nor purchase now

By silence, shelter for my body's need.

My spirit moves me, I must testify

To all its pow'r, nor can I quench

Its mighty flood. The more the need increase

Till all withdraw within their own domain

In dire despair, as if the pest had come,

And creep in silence past each other there,

The more my spirit moves me to be up

And throw myself against its devastation

To fight the more, the more it threatens us !

Oh ! if a thousand tongues were now but mine,

With every one would I address the land.

Far rather would I, like the hunted prey,

Drag on from place to place, than now despair,

Or lose my faith in truth ! No praise for this

I merit now Franciscus ! Many live

Who bitterly reproach me for it all.

And yet I think, if but the truth were told,

I merit not their praises nor their blame.

If I possess a soul that deeper feels

Than others do, the sorrows of this world,

And comprehends the universal need,

'Tis not to praise or blame — 'twas given me.

Another joyful event took place on this birthday.
Mamma Holthoff invited me to go with her next day
to meet Lassalle's sister, Frau von Friedland, and she
added, " No doubt we shall find the brother in 'Papa's'
library."

What a happy afternoon it was. I found in Frau
von Friedland at once a warm supporter who said to
me, " Yes ! You are the wife I have always wished
for Ferdinand."

And he ! This was the first occasion on which we
met more intimately. Papa Holthoff left us a short
time alone in his study and joined the ladies in the
drawing-room opposite. Then Ferdinand knelt beside
the big arm-chair in which I was seated, kissed me
passionately and said gently, "Will you be mine,
rise with me to all heights, and go with me through
all dangers ? "

SWORN TO SECRECY

I answered, again under the influence of that
peculiar feeling of blissful fear which I always ex-
perienced when near him, " As if it could be other-
wise?"

When Holthoff returned he heard Lassalle saying,
" Oh ! If this child hadn't such a weak will." Then
he said, smiling, "Lassalle, you call this woman of
the world always 'child.' Don't you know. . ."

"To me she will always be a child."

Holthoff held up the handle of a dagger before us
in the form of a cross, and made us swear upon the
holy token that we would never tell any one what had
taken place in his house that afternoon. I took the
oath, but Lassalle said, " No. I do not believe in this
token, but I will swear by the most sacred thing there
is for me on this earth — by the hand of this child."

This happy meeting ended, and we saw each other
no more in Berlin.

CHAPTER XV

My grandmamma became very ill. The doctors
declared she had only a few weeks to live, and I
hardly left her side. I was very, very unhappy, for
with the death of this clever, unusual woman, I
should lose the only member of my family whom I
really loved.

A few days before her death she called Yanko to
her side, and told him she knew how little my mother
understood me ; how uncongenial my life would be
under my parents' roof, in spite of its brilliant social
advantages, and she made him swear never to forsake
me ; to protect me against misfortune even at the
risk of his own happiness.

The good fellow promised, and told me of it. I
felt he would keep his word. He wept and sorrowed
with me when grandmamma left us, and in him I
found a protector and consoler.

Soon after her death I was obliged to return to my
parents, who had left Berne. As the climate did not
suit my mother, they had taken a villa in Geneva.
Here, as in Munich, they kept open house and every-
body of note and interest in Geneva gravitated
towards it.

One met there the famous scholars Clapar&de,
Latour, Favre, and many others, also another and
more interesting coterie of Hungarian political
refugees, — General Klapka, Count Teleki, Count
Karatschai with his family, likewise that of Count
Karolyi. All of them were wafted towards Geneva

SOCIETY IN GENEVA

by the storms of 1848. No doubt they had all
suffered from the narrowness and avarice of the so-
called "aristocracy" of Geneva and hailed with delight
the wider atmosphere of my fathers hospitable house.

Of course I felt myself more attracted by this
Hungarian society than by that of Geneva. In the
latter I found only one closer acquaintance — a certain
Countess Diodati, who had cosmopolitan tastes.

The winter slipped away ; Yanko came for a short
visit and was regarded by the whole of society as my
fiancd

I think my parents spread this report in order
to quench within me every hope of marriage with
Lassalle. I contradicted nothing, because I was then
a very weak creature, with no will at all. In fact, as
I had had no direct news from Lassalle for months,
and Papa Holthoff had informed me of his great
political difficulties, I decided — should marriage prove
impossible with Lassalle — to accept Yanko. Any-
thing rather than live in my parents' house with my
cold-hearted mother. No doubt this sentiment was
far from noble, and would have been impossible to
me later, but as I was a true child of the world then,
it seemed natural enough. Matters, however, were
not to run so smoothly.

It was summer-time, and the soft hot Geneva
climate was like poison to my nerves, therefore an
invitation from an English friend to take me with her
near Berne was joyfully accepted.

I must pause here to tell those unacquainted with
Lassalle's life what were the important matters that
made him put our love-affair in the background as a
mere episode.

Perhaps, after all, neither of us had reached the
climax of feeling, although Lassalle regarded our
subsequent union so much as a matter of course, that
he said, " We can afford to be patient. Life is long,
and Destiny has ordained us for each other."

I have hitherto only spoken of Lassalle as orator

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

and revolutionist. Certainly he was a revolutionist,
but not in the blind manner most people credited him
with. His convictions were based on hard, earnest
study of Greek philosophy, Roman law, and all
branches of historical knowledge and political economy.
His "revolution" was to evolve naturally, and blood-
lessly, not to descend furiously with burning torches,
but to be the outcome of the education and conviction
of the masses.

In order to follow his development we must
realise the fact that, in spite of his revolutionary
principles, science attracted him more than politics.

However, a time came when the tranquillity of
study and his cultivated enjoyment of life paled
before the burning sympathy that seized his soul for
the wrongs of suffering humanity.

It was the time when Bismarck was Prime
Minister, and his far-seeing political eye recognised
the greatness of Lassalle's capacities, and scented in
him no mean rival.

Lassalle was publicly accused of wishing to upset
the existing Government by political agitation in
favour of universal suffrage. In his famous speech
of defence he spoke as follows : "Very well,
gentlemen, although I am a private individual I can
tell you this. Not only do I wish to overthrow the
present Government, but I shall do it within a year.
Perhaps, before a year is over, universal suffrage will
be granted. It is a bold game, gentlemen, and cards
must be on the table. Matters have gone too far
for secret diplomacy, for they are based upon iron
necessity. Here, in these historical surroundings, I
prophesy to you all, that perhaps before a year is
over, Herr von Bismarck will have played the role of
Robert Peel, and general and direct representation
will be granted."

George Brandes in his magnificent biography of
Lassalle, adds the following : " As is well known,
Bismarck fulfilled the prophecy shortly after the

BRANDES ON LASSALLE

war with Austria." The same distinguished author,
speaking of the two last years of Lassalle's life, says :
" It was as if he had concentrated the activity of ten
years within the last two. One was astounded at all
he did in this short time." Between March 1862 and
June 1864 he was the author of no less than twenty
works, of which three or four have the dimensions
and contents of large volumes, and the rest of them,
though short and concise in form, contain enough
scientific matter and brilliancy of thought to make
their contents equal to that of more ambitious works.
In the meantime he was holding one meeting after
another, conferring with deputations from the working
classes, wriggling out of various political lawsuits,
founding the German Workmen's Union, carrying
on an extensive correspondence, and organising the
financial department of the Union. It seems as if,
conscious of his premature death, his energies had
developed beyond ordinary human power.

This feverish activity was the keynote of his
whole personality. In his work Franz von Sicki?igen,
which I consider an autobiography of his soul, and
to which I shall often refer, the hero, Ulrich von
Hutten, testifies to the necessity of letting his spirit
find voice with which to proclaim the wrongs of the
people. I wish to draw attention to this feverish
activity alluded to by Brandes, to show what pushed
our love affair into the background.

Regarding his development during the last two
years as "agitator," Brandes says: "As agitator he
stepped before the public. The very word seems to
have been coined for him, for agitator in the wider
sense is one who possesses the gift of inspiring the
masses with the life of his own spirit, which at the
same time penetrates and directs them. The art of
the agitator consists in electrifying and disciplining
at one and the same time, and for this purpose both
trained will and spirit are necessary. An agitator
must stand forth as orator, author, guerrilla-leader,

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

and commander-in-chief. He must be seen here and
there, and work simultaneously in various places,
keeping everything in harness. Lassalle's peculiar
talents fitted him for all this. What was the requisite
quality needed here ? Will — always will — and this
was the keynote of his life."

Brandes also says : " The real peculiarity of the
Lassalle movement consisted in the combination of
two elements — the scientific and the universal. By
the latter he gained and swayed the populace, and
by the former he convinced that smaller community
which consisted of the £lite in the world of letters."

I have made these long quotations out of Brandes'
biography in order that Lassalle may not be viewed
in these pages merely through the mirror of a loving
woman's soul, but also through that of the cultivated
mind of an eminent man of letters.

CHAPTER XVI

To return to my story.

Besides my friend Mrs. Arson, two pleasant
American families were in Wabern. We passed
some weeks living for our health, and then departed
for a tour to Lucerne and the Rigi. At that time
there was no railroad to the Rigi Kulm. We were
all good horsewomen, and so were quickly on the
old road leading to Kaltbad.

Before we got there, a terrible storm broke over
us, so that we were thankful to take shelter in a
disused barn. We were in the highest spirits, in
spite of torrential rain, and suddenly the thought
flashed across me that Papa Holthoff had written
that Ferdinand intended coming to Switzerland for a
"milk cure." Rigi Kaltbad is a "milk cure" place.
A small urchin stood gaping at us in the doorway.
I called him in and said,

"Here, youngster, do you want to earn some
pence ? "

"Yes!"

" Then run and ask at the hotel if Herr Lassalle
is here for a cure."

" He is here," came the reply in guttural tones.

" Then go and fetch him," I said, laughing, in the
firm conviction that the child had not understood
me.

The boy disappeared and I turned to my com-
panions, who did not understand a word of German,
and told them of the "silly joke"; they were all

97 h

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

curious to know what the boy would bring with him,
perhaps a glass of water — perhaps

" By all the gods of Greece it is she !" rang out
a voice at this moment, and so unexpectedly that it
took my breath away.

Lassalle stood before me 1

" Is it you ? Is it really you ? " was all I could
say. I introduced him to the others as one of my
Berlin friends, and with a few amiable words they
exchanged in French, he immediately won their
sympathy. He tried to persuade them to dismount
and spend the evening at Kaltbad, but they all
wanted to go to the Kulm and see the sunrise. As
soon as this was decided, Lassalle said he would
accompany us ; he only wanted to lock up his letters
and papers; his wallet was always ready. "Have
you any idea what I was doing when the boy came
and told me a beautiful lady wished to see me ? "

Of course I did not know, but I was no little
taken aback when he said, "I was just writing to
old Boeckh and to Holthoff to ask for letters of
introduction to your father. We have had enough
nonsense ; the matter must now be brought to a
conclusion."

With an energetic movement of the head he
went into the house, and returned in a few minutes,
his little portmanteau packed, ready to join us.

During the short time he was absent, my friends
took the opportunity to communicate their first
impressions to me. They were delighted with his
manners. " Dieu, qu'il est bien," my friend exclaimed,
then looking at me intently said suddenly, " Are you
related ? You are so wonderfully alike ? " Lassalle,
who was just rejoining us, heard the last words and
said, "Do you know that several people have said
the same thing ? The painter, to whom I gave your
photograph to copy a picture from, said, during his
work, that the anatomy of our faces was exactly the
same."

PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE

"All the better," I replied, "then I shall know
for certain we shall always like each other, for every
one finds himself, to a greater or less extent, more
sympathetic, if not more beautiful, than other people.
But now let us start, the rain has stopped ; perhaps
we shall find a picturesque sunset. On to the Kulm 1 "

Later, I was reminded in the most striking
manner of this resemblance. This was in 1874 when
I was acting in Breslau. 1 was playing in one of
Moser's little comedies, where, disguised as a boy, I
had to appear in masculine garments and a short curly
wig. When I went on to the stage I heard a
murmur run through the house, and was told that
many friends and some relations of Lassalle were at
the performance, and they were almost terrified at
my resemblance to Ferdinand as they remembered
him in his thirteenth or fourteenth year. I do not
know if this likeness of feature was really the case,
but Lassalle saw it, and was pleased about it.

On our way to the Kulm, he tried to persuade me
to give him a definite answer, and also to accompany
him to Chamonix over the Gemmi. I would do
neither the one nor the other.

He then asked me quite irritably, " Why won't
you marry me at once ? Why not, instead of going
to Berne to-morrow from Lucerne, go to France ?
We could be married there without any formalities,
and when we have once gone off, the parents will have
to give in. It is difficult to combat &fait accompli"

To this I answered that I would never consent
to such a romantic elopement, as long as there was a
grain of hope of managing things in the usual way.
He tried all the magic of his eloquence upon me, to
win me over to his ideas, and only gave in at last
when I said, "We cannot do it for your sake!
Imagine the terrible scandal there would be if you —
the leader of a Democratic, or, as you call it,
Socialistic, party, were to carry off the daughter of a
noble house."

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

He replied laughingly that he did not care in the
least about a scandal; nevertheless he gave up
teasing. In this way we reached the Kulm.

When we parted that evening, he said, "Child,
we must come to some definite conclusion and plan
of action this time. We can put things off no
longer. You see once more in our meeting to-day
we are each other's destiny, and cannot escape it."

Next morning, instead of a glorious sunrise, there
was a dense fog, and we all wandered about like
ghosts, wrapped up in blankets and anything we could
find, for in spite of a drizzling rain, we felt sure there
would be an imposing sight when the sun at last
penetrated the dense masses of drifting clouds. I
had passed a restless night battling with my own
indecision, and pale and worn with my vigil, I stood
next to Lassalle watching the sunrise. He could
hardly find words to express his admiration of me
that morning, and invoked all the gods of old
mythology to compare me with.

When a few hours later we all appeared at
breakfast, Ferdinand's charm of manner conquered
not only myself, but also my English and American
friends, who were astonished to find that a "red
Socialist" could be a polished man of the world, and
not as they imagined, a rough creature brandishing
a club. He chatted about all sorts of things. He
told us of his Lucullus-like feasts in Berlin, and was
delighted to find that I interested myself in kitchen
and cellar.

He told us of a strange experience he had with
some friends who met together for the purpose of
trying the effects of hashish -smoking. He said,
"We all lay about on divans, and most of us soon
were so horribly ill, that our one thought was to
find an antidote for the opiate. So we tried strong
coffee and cognac to bring us back to our normal
condition."

" How did it affect you ? " I asked eagerly.

100

FUTURE HOME

" It is a strange thing," he said ; " with me it
increased the proportions of everything to monstrosity.
Everything round me, near and far, seemed infinite ;
the slightest noise sounded like the blare of trumpets ;
and when one of the party cleared his throat, it
sounded like reverberating thunder. My own hands
seemed to be miles away. Altogether the experience
was most extraordinary. One might get accustomed
to it, but I found that one trial terrible. Even my
thoughts seemed immeasurable, — too great for any
human brain."

" Even for yours ? " I said teasingly.

He laughed, and seemed childishly delighted at
my praise.

"Yes! yes!" he said, "you 'gold fox,' my brain
is just big enough for my thoughts."

He then told us of the beautiful house he was
building in the Tiergarten, and of his plans for a big
hall which was to be painted with pictures from the
"Edda." He said, "You can imagine who is to be
the Brunhild. My painter has been trying to copy
the features from a beautiful photograph given me
by Holthoff, but the real goddess will soon be able
to serve as his model. Is this not so ? "

I was so happy I could not answer. Then lunch
ended.

I confided my love affair and its difficulties to
my clever English friend Mrs. Arson, but she, as
well as the Americans, could not understand my
anxiety concerning my parents, nor how they could
allow political differences of opinion to weigh in the
balance against their daughter's happiness.

They instilled a little courage in me, although I
understood German prejudices better than they.

Lassalle did his very best to make me give him a
decided answer, but I still hesitated ; I was required
to act, and I suffered then from an unaccountable
weakness of will, which seems to me now incom-
prehensible. I also dreaded the inevitable moment

101

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOW1TZA

when I should have to break poor Yanko's heart by
telling him of my engagement to Lassalle. I likewise
feared my father's anger, knowing of old his terrible
outbursts of temper, although I had not suffered from
any of these lately, on account of the marked coolness
in our intercourse with each other.

Lassalle begged me to go with him into the
library, which at that hour was deserted. How well
I remember the scene ! I must have been very pale
from all those conflicting emotions, for Lassalle
jumped up, and came towards me saying, "Good
heavens ! How dreadfully ill you look ! I cannot
have it ! Is your chest weak ? No ! Surely this is
not the case 1 You are only a little delicate, and this
northern climate is not good for you 1 Well, we
shall change all that. If my poor little child is ill,
I will give up politics and everything else, and we
will go and live in Egypt — or in India. I shall have
my books and scientific studies, and will nurse my
child until she becomes a real Brunhild."

I said it was not as bad as all that, and that the
doctors said it was merely weakness of nerves ; cold
was better for me than heat.

" Doctors are fools 1 We will winter in Egypt,
and as regards this ' not so bad as all that ' — let us
understand each other at last ! Come, child, say ' I
will ' — and everything else shall be my affair."

We sat on a low divan ; he had taken my hands,
and looked me earnestly in the eyes. I shuddered,
and pulling all my courage together, I told him I
was unable to come to any decision as long as I was
near him ; that his presence lamed my will, and if I
were to promise all he wished, I might repent it later
on, and find the carrying out of it all beyond my
power. " For," I added, " ask anything of me except
firmness of will and energy. Remember that I am
lafemme laplusfemme de Vunivers, that is, unreliable
and capricious."

He grew quieter and said, "I will not torment

102

A QUESTION OF RELIGION

the sick child. Become calmer, and make up your
mind after we have parted ; but in the name of all
the gods make it up quickly ! I cannot and will not
bear this uncertainty much longer."

I promised that if he would leave me in Kaltbad,
and let me ride alone back to the Bigi, I would
decide finally on the way and give him an answer at
once, favourable or otherwise. He then asked me in
case I said " yes " (and he was sure I would) — if I
would insist on his becoming a Christian, for "you
know I am a Jew," he added. "Shall I have to
change my religion ? "

"No, indeed!" I replied. "I believe too little
myself to give the question of religion much import-
ance. Be Mohammedan if you like — or heathen for
preference ; as it is, my friends call me a Greek
because I believe in so many things, but hardly in
God."

He laughed heartily and said he was glad of it, as
regarded the religion. "If you wished it, I would
become Christian at once, but I prefer your not
wishing it, for it would create a lot of bad blood,
and make me look small in the eyes of a great many
people ; and I say frankly that I should not like this
at all. But since we met again yesterday in this
extraordinary manner, I too have been thinking over
things during a wakeful night, and I know now how
much my * gold fox ' and the thought of winning her
have taken possession of my heart, and how I would
rather give up everything, yes — look at me — every-
thing, than lose you ! So now you know it, and can
laugh at the proud man who has bent the knee before
his little hard-hearted regent. But here is another
point. I hope this universality in religious ideas
does not also apply to your love ? And you don't
prefer here many to one ?"

The question amused me, although it was a
tender point with me, and I replied frankly, " Until
now, it has been yes ! One man alone has never

103

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

been able really to attract me; there was always
something I did not care for in each one, and since
my first love, which was given to a Russian naval
officer, I always fancied I should like to create one
man out of two or three, and as this was not possible
I mostly divided my favours."

" So ! so ! Well, I hope now that one will
suffice," said Lassalle, highly amused. " People have
told me all sorts of tales about the frivolity and the
6 Greek views ' of my 'gold fox,' but never mind ! I
too did not live like a saint, and demand no more of
my wife than I give her myself. But henceforward
I must insist that you change your point of view."

I wanted then to tell him all about my past life,
and my " crimes against saintly morality," but he
interrupted me with an energetic motion of the hand.

"No, no! For heaven's sake don't let us have
any Pompeian excavations ! Let us leave that to all
those who care more for the past and present than
for the future. Our past life lies behind us. Let us
finish with it. In the future we will belong to each
other, and cling to one another. That is enough ! "

Mrs. Arson came in to tell us it was time to go,
and in spite of Lassalle's entreaties she would not
postpone our departure. He begged her to be careful
of my health — said he had a right to ask this ; that
I ought not in my delicate state to be riding for
hours in fog and damp, and brought up various
arguments.

But I urged on our departure ; I longed to be
alone, in order to think things out quietly, and
become clear on all points.

So we mounted our horses in the icy rain, and as
Lassalle was going with us to Kaltbad, we had one
more hour together. Although the conversation was
general, he looked after me like a mother, and did his
best to protect me from the cold.

He chatted about literature and philosophy, and
he said gleefully, " The child is such a little silly in

104

PROPOSAL ACCEPTED

so many things ; how happy I shall be in initiating
her in the treasures of philosophy and literature, for
she knows really nothing about either."

When we said good-bye, he took both my hands
in his, kissed them passionately, and said, "We part
but for a short time, my best-beloved. You are as
sweet as a child, but as weak as one. Oh, if I could
only instil one drop of my mighty will and energy
into those blue veins of yours. Perhaps I might
succeed in doing so by magnetic force. Here ! take
my hands." I obeyed. " So ! I will that you shall
have more will I Say yes, et je me charge du teste ! "
I promised him I would decide before I got to
Waggis, and then we parted. My friends, knowing
I must have so much to think over, let me ride on
alone ; and after turning the matter over from all
sides in my heart and brain, I at length decided to
say "yes."

When we were on the boat returning from
Waggis to Lucerne, I told my friends of my decision,
and they were overjoyed, as Lassalle had quite won
their hearts. They said he deserved it. I already
held two messages in my hand from him, a telegram
and a note, the latter delivered to me by a little boy
whom he had sent post-haste on foot to Waggis. In
both of them he implored me not to cross the lake in
this foggy weather, but to wait at Waggis for him to
take me home safely.

I had replied that this was impossible, and we
returned to Wabern.

105

CHAPTER XVII

After a lapse of so many years, a letter I wrote to
Holthoff will serve best to illustrate my frame of
mind. I wrote to him the first morning after our
return.

Wabern, July 28, 1864.

Where can I begin and where end with all I have to tell you
to-day ? Perhaps, when this letter is delivered into your hands,
you will be sitting comfortably in your room, little dreaming
that your child is going to fill you with worry and anxiety.

The moment has come when your child implores your help,
and there is no one who can help but you. I am so worried
and anxious, that I know I am writing incoherently. Oh, if you
were only here that I might take both your hands in mine,
look up to you with imploring eyes, and beg in my tenderest
voice, " Papa help, do help your poor little daughter, for she needs
all your assistance and protection.*" Then I'm sure you would
help, for you would realise that it is only possible for us to go
forwards, not backwards. I come to you to-day as to a father
who loves and spoils his little daughter, as to a friend who has
promised to aid his little friend, as to a great lawyer who must
help his client in word and deed. Have you any idea now, Papa,
whom I am writing about ? Yes, yes, you are quite right ! He
has given you and me, especially me, many an anxious moment ;
but the matter now is deadly earnest, and I must tell you every
thing as it happened, else you will think me quite mad.

Well, then, the great romance of my life is about to
culminate in my marriage, as soon as possible, with Lassalle. I
know what serious consequences this decision will entail, but
nevertheless it must be so, for I know it is the will of God,
that it has all been predestined, and no man can escape fate.
There are still many obstacles. I shall be able to overcome
them all ; but one thing is too terrible — it robs me of my
courage and makes me wretched. It is this — that I must break
my poor friend Yanko's heart, destroy his youthful dreams, and

106

LETTER TO HOLTHOFF

all his happiness. Now that I feel my future and my destiny
are in Lassalle's hands, I can only pray God to give me strength
to overcome my own heart and become wicked.

How can I even ask you to befriend Yanko in this terrible
time ? He has no one but me to protect and love him.

Oh, how he will despise me, and from his point of view, I
must appear despicable, for he could never understand the
demoniacal power that Ferdinand has over me. You under-
stand that, and will agree with me when I tell you that I care
for Yanko too much to marry him with that feeling for Lassalle
in my heart. It would have caused me to desert him sooner or
later. Better now than later, for at least he will not be made
ridiculous in the eyes of the world. He will be unhappy, but
not dishonoured. Lassalle swore to me, and you know how
strong his will is, " You shall be mine, either now as an angel,
or later on as a devil." I feel that he is right, and know that
God intended us for each other. Therefore, I have decided,
and he knew my decision early this morning.

Since last night, I have received four telegrams from my
Satanic lord and master, and he is coming to this little place
to-morrow evening, where I am staying with a dear friend who
is of the same opinion as he is, that I must accept my fate from
God's hands. You are my witness that I have done my best to
fight against my own heart, and still more against my mind,
for I would gladly have acted as my parents wished ; but in
spite of all, I grew more and more interested in him. Now let
me tell you how it all happened. You know that I am here
for my health, and accident — or rather Providence — has willed
that my friend must come to this little place, not far from
Berne, for the health of her delicate children. A nice
American family lives near us too.

After a few days we began to feel bored, and decided to
take a trip to Lucerne and the Rigi. You remember, Papa
dear, telling me that Lassalle was going to do a cure somewhere
there ? Our Murray told us that a milk cure can only be done
on the Rigi-Scheideck. I told my friends I had an acquaint-
ance there, and would like to meet him, and as I like to be
straightforward, told them the whole story. We heard at
Waggis that we could not ride to the Scheideck, as it was too
far, and the roads were bad. You can imagine how dis-
appointed I was. I arrived at Kaltbad in a melancholy frame
of mind, and as you know, found him there. Could I ever
describe our delight ? We all went up the Rigi together, and
the others declared he seemed walking on air, and devoured me
with his eyes to such an extent that they wonder there was

107

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

anything left of me. We discussed all kinds of things, and he
implored me to say "yes." But I was firm as long as I was
with him. When I hesitated he held my hands, and tried to
infuse his will-power into me, saying I was as sweet as a child
and as weak as one. He may have been successful, for at that
moment, as if his wish were being fulfilled, I said, "Before I
leave Waggis I shall have decided." He left us in Kaltbad
with an au revoir. I shall never forget that return journey,
how I fought with myself and suffered ! The moment I arrived
here I received a letter from him entreating me not to cross the
lake in such bad weather — he was so anxious about my health.
Then I knew where my fate lay. If you had only seen his
tenderness and care of me during those two days, you would
hardly have recognised your egotistical friend !

Friday, July 29.

Yesterday my letter was interrupted by the arrival of one
from my stormy friend, which gave me so much to consider
that I could not finish this one. Heaven alone knows how all
this is going to end !

I shall wait to finish this letter until I have seen him, as no
doubt there will be a good deal more to tell you ; I expect him
either to-night or to-morrow.

Now to continue.

When I arrived in Wabern on Tuesday evening, I wrote him
my decision and conditions. They were as follows: Firstly,
that we should do everything possible to conciliate my parents,
in order to gain their consent for the sake of appearances.
Should this fail, in spite of our efforts, eh bien ! alors, tant pis
pour eux ! In this case, his plan is to elope with me to Egypt
— a plan he says you know and approve of.

My second condition is, that now we have decided
matters, everything is to be carried out as quickly as possible.
This for two reasons. Firstly, because of Yanko (Lassalle
knows nothing of this). Secondly, because I do not wish the
world to gossip about matters which do not concern it, and of
which it would only take a one-sided view. This would lead
to all sorts of terrible scenes, which, in the present state of my
weakened health and nerves, I really could not stand.

Will he accept these conditions ? Heaven knows ! In
reply to my letter he merely telegraphed yesterday : " Letter
received. Bravissimo ! Arrive 29th, latest 30th." He wants
to accompany me to Geneva, but he must on no account do
this. It will be difficult to prevent the demon having his own
way, but I trust my will in this case will prevail over his.

The Countess is in Wildbad, and he wants me to know her.

108

LETTER TO HOLTHOFF

I believe he will ask her to come here cPim jour ou $ autre. Oh,
dear Papa ! if you were only here ! I feel so lonely, — every-
thing is against me, yet I must struggle on.

My people know nothing — not even that I met Lassalle on
the Rigi.

I think the best thing will be to spring it on them, make
the whole affair a coup (FStaL Oh ! if you only knew how
difficult it is to act against the wishes of my family, and those
whom I love and honour !

Just look at the extraordinary sequence of events. Why
did the doctor order me a change of air just then ? Why did
it so happen that my parents could not accompany me, and
that I had to go with a friend ? Why did that friend suggest
a tour on the Rigi, instead of the Bernese highlands ? Why
was Lassalle on the Kaltbad instead of the Scheideck, and why
did we choose the most difficult route, instead of taking the
one over Kiissnacht or Gersau ; also why should Lassalle, who
is hardly ever at home, be occupied just at that moment in
writing to you ? Enfin, you see, Papa, it had to be !

God knows what our arrival at home will lead to, or what
he and I had best do to attain our object. If only you were
here to help with your advice and friendship, which knows no
yesterday nor to-morrow ! As it is, I stand quite alone in his
demoniacal power. There is no looking back now. I must go
forward, even should the way lie over torn and bleeding hearts.
Tell me, what is the worst they can do to us ? I am twenty-
one, therefore of age, I believe, according to Bavarian law.
Beyond this I know nothing, nor what could happen to us in
case of elopement, or who would be on our side besides the Grafin.

Now I must end for to-day, as before he arrives I have to
write the awful letter to my poor dear Yanko.

God is my witness that I would far rather receive than be
obliged to write such a letter, knowing the suffering it will entail.

Good-bye. Answer me soon, if only to tell me you love the
child who loves you so dearly. Let me know if you are able to
come here, and believe, under all circumstances, in the eternal
friendship and gratitude of

Your Loving Little Daughter.

1.30, just received another telegram from Tourbillon ! He
will be here at six to-day !

It was so difficult to write to Yanko, that it took
me nearly all night. The letter was a mixture of
the grossest selfishness and the most sincere regret.
I told him I was fully aware of the shameful way he

109

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

was being treated, but appealed to him as to my
confidant in the Lassalle affair. He knew that, as I
had told him, Lassalles influence was such that, if
I met him again, and he wished me to be his wife, I
would leave everything in the world and follow him.
I quoted the following beautiful lines from Geibel's
" Brunhild " :—

cc Wenn tiber ihn der Blitz herniederziindet,
Schiltst du den Scheiterhaufeiij dass er brennt ?
So aber kam's auf mich mit Allgewaltj
Als Siegfried nahte. All mein Wesen
Schlug in Flammen jauchzend auf!
Und hatte Hela selbst, der Nacht entsteigendj
All ihre Schrecken zwischen uns gesttirmt,
Ich hatt' ihn doch geliebt ! "

The remainder of the letter was written, as most
of our correspondence was, in French. I told him
how, in spite of the suffering I was inflicting on him,
I looked on him as my truest friend, and if, as we
feared, my parents remained inexorable, I counted
on his help and protection, as that of the person
nearest on earth to me.

As I wrote, I knew I was right, and that the dear
noble fellow would always keep the promise he made
to my grandmother on her death-bed.

Day was dawning when I finished this most
difficult letter. Then only I wrote to Lassalle :

Shall I begin by thanking you for your dear lines, which
reached me just as I was crossing the bridge of boats; or by
telling you how long and how difficult the way to Waggis
appeared ? No ! You know both. You know how delighted
I was at your few words of remembrance, but my heart beat
quicker as I read of your tender care of me and my health.
That I could not do as you wished was because, as you too
say, my will is as weak as a child's.

Then followed all 1 had written to Holthoff con-
cerning my decision and conditions.

Of course, he must have known beforehand what
my answer would be ; I received one or two telegrams
from him hourly ; he comfortably took up his post

110

LASSALLE'S LETTERS

in the telegraph office of the hotel Kaltbad. As he
wrote to me, it amused him to listen to the tick-tick
of the machine, and to fancy he was touching me
with it. This fancy, arising perhaps from the know-
ledge that his words and thoughts would reach me
in a few minutes. I received six letters in those
two days besides the telegrams. What letters !

They, as well as everything Lassalle had ever given
me, were afterwards taken away by my father.

His political and legal works have made people
familiar with his flowery and poetic style of writing.
Imagine, then, what his love letters must have been
to the woman who held his whole heart !

The only book written on our tragic story which
I find sympathetic was one by an anonymous author
entitled The Sufferings of Lassalle. It spoke of
his love in the following terms: "When a truly
demoniacal love clutches at the fibres of a human
being, then there exists for him neither God nor
politics, neither fatherland nor family ties, nor law.
The following pages will testify to such a love
which was beyond the power of any poet to describe."

How often in after-life I have regretted the loss
of these letters ; I could never have felt so utterly
wretched and deserted if I had been allowed to keep
them, for the love they breathed would have spoken
to me from beyond the grave.

All were taken away from me. Many of them
are imprinted in my memory as clearly as if I had
read them yesterday. In one of them he described
a sunset, which he saw the evening after my de-
parture. Its flaming glories seemed to glow like the
illumination of our love ; the whole universe and all
the beauties of nature seemed woven by him into
the leading chords of the motif of our happiness.

Another time he wrote :

Art thou ambitious? What would my "golden child"
say, if I led her in triumph to Berlin in a car drawn by six
white horses, as the greatest lady in the land ?

Ill

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

And again :

It really is most foolish to worry about politics, and the
weal and woe of other people. That was all very well when I
was alone, and had nothing better to do, but now ! Shall I
throw it all up, and shall we go far, far away wherever my
ruler, the child, wishes, and live only for our happiness, our
studies, and a few friends ?

112

CHAPTER XVIII

He was here at last, my beloved, my hero — my eagle,
as I loved to call him, on account of his bright eagle-
like eyes ! On his arrival, I was clasped in his arms
as if nothing could ever part us. We kissed each
other again and again, gazing rapturously into each
other's eyes. In the whole world, there were no
two people so completely happy as we were. For,
in our case, everything was in harmony, heart, mind,
and soul. The more I saw of him, the more I was
convinced that this man, with his great mind and
charming disposition, would conquer my parents, and
take their hearts by storm.

In the happy days that followed we were the
gayest of the gay. When his high spirits ran away
with him, he was delighted when I called out, as I
did to my big dog at home: Couche-toi! In this
he reminded me very much of my father. We
roamed the forests together, rejoicing in every tree
and flower, and breaking into exclamations of delight
every time we caught a glimpse of the mountains
through the opening in the trees.

In fact we revelled in every moment of these
incomparably beautiful days. He was delighted at
my sense of humour, which he also shared. He read
me portions of one of his pamphlets, Herr Julian
Schmidt, which amused me very much, and I
laughed continually over the witty and sometimes
spiteful remarks. "Just imagine," he said, "what
happened to me in connection with it. This brochure

113 I

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

was published two years ago ; last year I went to a
little place in Switzerland, and met in the garden of
the hotel a perfectly charming couple, with whom,
almost immediately, I had a most animated con-
versation. We got on so well that we arranged to
go for a long walk together before dinner, and pro-
posed also a drive on the morrow. When we got
back to the hotel, we found we had forgotten to
introduce ourselves to each other. I looked in the
visitors' book, and there, what did I see but ' Dr. and
Mrs. Julian Schmidt, Berlin.' I need hardly tell
you how quickly I disappeared."

"But hadn't you ever seen him in Berlin ?"

" No, strange to say, I had not. I wonder how
the poor Schmidts felt when they read my name in
the list?"

When we had done laughing about this, Ferdinand
said, "Here is another brochure of mine that will
amuse you — my answer to the accusation people
brought against me that I wished to place might
before right. The title is 'Might and Right: " He
had brought it with him in his portmanteau, and read
as follows : —

" If I had created the world, it is very possible
that, out of deference to the Volkszeitung and Count
Schwerin, I might have made an exception for once
and put ' Right' before * Might,' because, strange to
say, this corresponds with my own wishes and ethics !
Unfortunately I never had the chance of creating the
world, and must therefore decline all responsibility
and both blame and praise in regard to it."

I was much interested in all the proofs he brought
forward that in this world Might rules Right, and
often thought of this when, a few weeks later, I
suffered so bitterly under the power of might.

Some of the most charming hours we spent were
devoted to poetry. Lassalle, like myself, knew most
of the classic writers by heart, and we revelled in
declaiming them to each other. It delighted me

114

COUNTESS HATZFELD

most to hear him recite his "Franz von Sickingen."
He confessed that in Ulrich von Hxitten he had
drawn his own portrait and expressed his own
thoughts.

This, of course, interested me doubly, as I learnt
to know him, as it were, from the biography written
by himself. Later on, how well I treasured many
of the prophetic passages.

The following lines were soon verified : —

" A demon follows in my steps,
To turn the heart of joy to misery."

Just now our path was strewn with happiness,
and we were thankful to the gods for it.

During these wonderful days we discussed
amongst other things his sources of income, and I
was delivered from a nightmare on hearing he was
in no way dependent on the Countess. He said in
conclusion, "Never come to me with a proposition
to earn money by writing. Mostly women look
upon this as a way out of perplexity, and so many
of them have said to me, ' Why don't you write more,
and make money ? ' but I hate the prostitution of the
pen, and would never demean myself by it. I con-
sider it more despicable and more degrading for a
man than the prostitution of the body, for my mind
is more sacred to me than that which envelops it.
Therefore, mark well, nothing will come of that —
no authorship, above all no journalism."

The same day he spoke again about his liaison
with Countess Hatzfeld. As regards the latter, my
feelings towards her were mixed with a little fear,
a little jealousy, but most of all childish affection.

Whilst speaking of her, Lassalle showed himself
to me in quite a new light, and one that increased
my respect for him. He asked me what my opinion
was in regard to his connection with the Countess,
to which I replied that I supposed she had been his
mistress when he was quite young, and now that she
was old, but, as my friend had told me, extremely

115

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

clever, no doubt his former love had been turned into
a great enduring friendship.

My answer pleased him, and he said, " Then you
do not insist on my giving up the Countess ? '

" Give her up ? How could I think of such a thing ?
I shall be delighted to make her acquaintance, but
would she have to live with us, always ? " I added,
anxiously.

This question amused him immensely. In the
highest spirits he caught me in his arms, and repeated
my question again and again with laughter and kisses,
assuring me,

"No, my gold fox, she would not ! Anyhow, she
never lives with me. Come under this glorious lime-
tree, and listen to what I have to tell you. Jealousy
of the good Countess (I wondered if any man who
had once adored me would ever speak of me as " Good
Helene " — horrible 1) is quite out of the question. For
many years she has been my confidante in all my
little love affairs, which, as you know, I have looked
upon as an antidote to my serious work."

I nodded, for I knew his reputation. He said,
laughing, " I wrote to my sister the other day
saying that I consider the greatest relaxation from
work is to be amongst pretty women. The Countess
knows this too — and now my one beautiful wife will
have to replace all that to me. Seriously, do you not
realise that the hold the Countess has over me is of
quite a different nature ? "

He stretched out his well-formed hand, and con-
tinued, "Into this hand, which was then that of a
boy, she placed her destiny. I proved to her that the
hand was that of a man, but at that time she did not
know it. She gave me her full confidence, and that
binds me to her for ever."

This noble point of view filled me with enthusiasm.
What he then told me concerning his relations with
the Countess is more fully described in a most extra-
ordinary letter to which I will make reference later.

116

COUNTESS HATZFELD

The letter is one printed among the first of the
Intimate Letters and the portion of it referring to
the Countess is as follows : —

She is identical with my own soul. What is soul ? It is the
unity of the collective whole, the central point of the entire
mass of impressions we ever experience. That is what she is
to me. Therefore, she is a necessity to my happiness. Further,
she is the person on whom depends the integrity of my
individuality. If I lost a leg or an arm, I should not consider
myself so maimed as if I had lost the Countess. Therefore, it
follows that she must be dearer to me than myself, and that I
must display more tenderness towards her than to the remaining
portion of my individuality, and I can say of her what
Wallenstein said of Max : " She stands before me like my own
youth, that stormy youth to which my thoughts often revert
sentimentally. She is the living incorporation of that youth
to me — a time most people look back upon with tender
recollections. Doubtless as long as she is in my life, I shall feel
more or less young ; if I ever lost her, I should feel as though
I had changed my personality. If she had suffered, and still
suffers, is it not because I have impregnated her with my ideas,
my feelings, and my points of view, and because she has framed
her life accordingly ? To me, therefore, she represents my own
ideas and my own feelings. Is it not natural that I should treat
this, my second self, with more consideration than my own self ? "

Of course Ferdinand was delighted to find my
opinion on his relationship with the Countess so
different from that of all the other women with
whom he had had love affairs, and especially that
of the lady to whom he wrote the letter. All this
was another proof to me of the greatness and nobility
of his soul, and my adoration for him grew boundless.

In spite of my youth, he must have placed me
on a pinnacle, to consider me capable of understanding
so entirely his ideas.

In consequence of this conversation, I wrote a
letter to the Countess, full of childlike admiration
and enthusiasm. To this I received no answer.

He painted our future together in the most
glowing colours, and asked if I would be satisfied
with the life he could offer me. On my replying,

117

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

" Completely," he was pleased, and said, " I want you
to love me as I really am, but are you not at all
ambitious ? "

"My ambition is to be the wife of Ferdinand
Lassalle and to share his fate."

He laughed, rubbed his hands, and said, "Your
choice is not a bad one, and you will never be the
worse for it. One day Ferdinand Lassalle's wife will
be a woman in the highest position. Let us discuss
it quietly. Have you any idea of my plans and
projects ? No ! Then look at me (raising himself
up). Do I look as if I would be satisfied with any
secondary place in the kingdom ? Do you believe
that I would sacrifice the sleep of my nights, the
marrow of my bones, the power of my lungs, in order
to pull the chestnuts out of the fire for some one else ?
Do I look like a political martyr ? No ! I will
act and fight, but I will also enjoy the fruits of the
combat, and will place on your brow that which,
for the present, we will call your diadem.

" Believe me, it would be a proud moment to be
acclaimed ' President ' of a Republic, chosen by the
people. To rest secure on the goodwill of a nation,
more securely than to be 6 King, by the Grace of God/
and to sit upon a rotten worm-eaten throne. Come
here ! Stand by my side, and behold both of us
in the glass ! Is it not a proud and regal couple ?
Did not nature create two such beings in her happiest
mood, and don't you think that power, the highest
power, would suit us very well ? Yes, child, you
will be glad of your choice. Long live the Republic,
and the golden-haired wife of the President ! "

He had talked himself into a perfect fever, and
I felt myself carried along on the stream of his
enthusiasm. My eyes were lifted in faith and admira-
tion towards him, and when he saw this he continued,
" You do believe in our star, do you not ? Since
I found you, my way to glory seems clearer than
ever ; united to you, I cannot fail to reach the goal.

118

LASSALLE'S WELCOME ON THE RHINE

So, all hail to us and to our friends ! Of course we
have enemies as numerous as the sands upon the sea-
shore. In my case it is natural, and in yours com-
prehensible ; but no matter how much they bespatter
the hems of our garments with their venom, they
nevertheless will have to bend the knee when we
make our triumphant entry. Ambition such as this
even you must understand, little fox. 'Ferdinand
the chosen of the people/ is a proud name, and, if
all goes well, it shall be mine."

After a short time, he added, " It will be a hard
fight, notwithstanding, and the time is hardly yet
ripe for it ; we may have to wait a long time in
useless martyrdom, in fruitless discussions, or perhaps
even in absolute idleness. Vedremo I we have many
hours to think of it. You have only just become
mine, for this is the first time I have shown you
my true self."

Regarding his dreams for the future, George
Brandes describes them in a pathetic manner when
he speaks of his sojourn on the Rhine :

"Everywhere the same sight. Hundreds of work-
men met him, cheering, at every station, and a long
procession accompanied him to his home, which was
decorated with wreaths and bouquets. They presented
him with tokens of esteem. In all towns and streets
there were serenades in his honour, triumphal arches,
garlands, and inscriptions ; acclamations burst forth
from a thousand throats. Wherever he went, work-
men, young and old, in carts covered with banners
and wreaths, pressed forward to welcome him — proud
if they could press his hand, or get a greeting from
him. Sometimes as many as twenty-five carriages
covered with wreaths followed him in cortege. In
order to give an impression of the precise state of
mind of the people, I will quote passages from the
Ronsdorf newspaper of May 23 :

When the cortege approached the borders of Ronsdorf, one
saw every one was afoot, old and young ; the multitudes covered

119

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

the heights. At the entrance to the village was another
garland surrounded with a crown and bearing the inscription,
" Willkommen Dr. Ferdinand Lassalle viel tausendmal im
Ronsdorftal. r)

Similar inscriptions and floral tribunes decorated the whole
of his route. The President's carriage was easily recognised by
the placard, " Let us unite" and masses of flowers were thrown
into it by the wives and daughters of the working men. At
this spot, crowds of skilled workmen from Solingen and Wer-
melskirchen were waiting to receive the President and join the
procession. The rejoicings were indescribable, and continued
all the way to Ronsdorf. It was an interesting sight to see the
pitch of eagerness of the crowd who, when the road suddenly
went downhill, and the carriages advanced more quickly, started
running full tilt in order to keep up with the procession. Such
were their efforts that most of them arrived simultaneously
with the carriages.

Everything was to be even greater than this. He
would be satisfied with nothing less than the homage
of an entire people bowing before the President of
their choice. I smiled happily at all these dreams.
I believed in their realisation when he stood before
me then, like a god of war, his keen glance searching
space.

120

CHAPTER XIX

On one of our last evenings together, my friends had
given a little champagne supper in honour of our
engagement. When it was over, and I returned
to my room somewhat fatigued, I went to the
window to enjoy the delicious moonlight and the cool
night air.

Suddenly two arms were flung round me, and
Ferdinand swung himself upon my window ledge,
which was near the ground, and took no notice of
my anxious expostulations. Oh, the glorious hours
of that summer night 1 Neither before nor afterwards
did I know anything more beautiful 1 The full moon
shone in the heavens, and from the highlands the
eternal snow giants greeted us. All was silent, holy,
and only our whispering voices floated out on the
heavenly night.

When I protested against his remaining so late, he
whispered, " Be silent. I will sit here quite quietly,
and chat until you are too tired to say to me
couche-toL The night is so glorious, my heart so
full, and you so near ! How could one sleep ? Let
us chat, or pray to the moon, or, by merely repeating
to each other the two words 'Ferdinand,' 'Helene/
compose anew love's * song of songs.' "

We sat on — he on the outside of the window
ledge, I on the inside — and talked in happy whispers
of our still happier future. He told me about his
old housekeeper Johanna, and how pleased she would
be when he brought home a wife who " understood

121

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

what good living meant, and yet, like my ' golden fox,'
would not trouble herself about housekeeping."

" No, indeed ! " I said, " I don't understand a thing
about it, and should only make myself ridiculous."

" Heaven be praised ! " he replied ; " I should hate
to have a wife who looked after the kitchen more
than she did me I Johanna has kept house for me
for the last ten years, so she can go on doing it."

Then we began talking of our friends and acquaint-
ances, and I mentioned what the wife of Bismarck's
secretary had said about him, and asked him :

" Is it true that you have all sorts of secret doings
with Bismarck ? "

He sat still a moment, then laughed softly, almost
uncannily, and taking my hand, he half whispered,
" This child ! — did one ever hear the like ? With these
little fingers (for you know it is ridiculous to have
such little fingers I), with these little elfin paws, she
turns over my most precious secrets, that I keep like
costly gems in the secret treasury of my heart. She
rummages about there, treats these priceless jewels as
if they were her own possessions, strews a few of
them about as if they were chaff, and then demands
the best of all for herself, as an ornament for her hair !
But I adore this naive impudence ! Though you had
no idea what you were asking for, you shall have it.

" Yes, indeed 1 I did go and see Bismarck 1 The
great * iron ' one wanted to captivate me, and iron, you
know, is a very necessary metal, so strong, so tough, so
proof against blows and knocks ! What has iron not
been able to achieve in this world ? Nearly every-
thing is made with, or rendered firm by iron — nearly
everything ! But there exists another and different
metal, more supple and pliable — not intended for
heroic weapons, and yet mightier than this omnipotent
iron ; it is gold ! What iron has destroyed, gold can
build up again ; it was a rain of gold which seduced
the heart of Danae ! Yes, yes, you golden fox, it is
a question which of the two metals is the mightier

122

IN THE MOONLIGHT

and more powerful. It is true that up there in ' iron
circles ' gold is Jewish, but the main point is, what
it achieves ! Iron with time gets rusty, and rusty
iron belongs to the lumber-room ! Then away with
it to the lumber-room of centuries and history 1

"To return to Bismarck. You asked me what
he wanted from me, and I from him. Be satisfied
with this, that nothing happened, and nothing could
happen, because we were both too clever ; each saw
how clever the other was, and we could only have
ended (politically speaking) by laughing in each other's
face. Of course we were too well bred to do this,
and it all ended in a visit and witty conversation."

" How did you like Bismarck ? Did you find him
clever ? " I asked.

" Clever ! What is clever ? If you and I are
clever, then Bismarck is not. He is mighty, im-
posing — is just 'iron.' If one refines iron, it becomes
steel, out of which one can make sharp, gleaming,
splendid weapons, but they always remain weapons.
I prefer gold — gold such as my fox wears upon
her head ; and it has been given to me in the
mysterious power of attracting human beings and
making them mine. You shall see one day, my
darling, what our gold is able to achieve."

After a short pause, I remarked, " But you yourself
speak a great deal of weapons, of blood and strife ;
and after all, revolutions are not made without
weapons and without iron."

'* Child, child ! What is it you do not want to
know in this moonlight night? The results of
thousands of years and of the profoundest study, and
you ask me lightly to give you all this — to throw it
in your lap.

" To speak of struggles, to call to arms is not really
as vile as mowing down one's fellow-creatures with
blood-smeared hands, and with a cold heart! Do
you understand, clever little fox, what weapons I
allude to ? I hold my golden weapons of the mind,

123

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

the art of eloquence, charity, benefits to the poor,
and the making of men of the working classes and
the poverty-stricken; and above all, my will, far
higher than the mere brute force of the rusty Middle
Ages. Blood and the sword are to be the last re-
sources, if they will not have it otherwise. But I
think they will, and will learn to fear without the
sword. But look, day is dawning, and we are going
to Niesen to-day, so sleep well, and dream of me."

He folded me once more in his arms, said, " What
a glorious wife I shall make out of this adored child,
when she is mine " ; then he left me.

The picnic came off on the morrow. I found
mountain-climbing difficult, on account of the weak-
ness of my lungs. Lassalle helped me by placing his
hands against my back, and bidding me lean all my
weight against them, saying encouragingly from time
to time, " Breathe slowly, lean back ! Don't talk,"
and in this way I got up splendidly.

It was a lovely day, with brilliant sunshine,
magnificent views, balmy breezes, and Lassalle in his
happiest mood. No one who has not known this
gifted being at his zenith, as he was in those days,
can realise to what extent he could inspire those
around him to give forth of their highest and best.
My friends realised this too, and again and again they
said that no parents could refuse their daughter to
such a man. I believed this too.

Our homeward journey was not so easy. The
other ladies and I were all very tired, and Lassalle
made use of his most excellent conversational powers
to encourage us over the difficulties of the descent.
They acted on us like champagne. He told us of
his friendship with Heinrich Heine, and of the letter
I have already spoken of. He told how he, a mere
boy at the time, took up the cause of the almost
dying poet, arranged all his most complicated family
affairs, and obtained for him a settled yearly income.
He knew, and quoted to us, whole pages out of

124

LASSALLE AND HEINE

Heine's letters, to which we listened with the greatest
interest. The following quotations from these letters
I now copy from George Brandes, as he no doubt
possessed the originals, whereas I had heard merely
certain passages quoted by Lassalle. The latter told
us at the time that Heine said that he would die like
a gladiator, with a smile upon his lips. I remembered
a few weeks later, with streaming eyes, these terribly
prophetic words.

The sick poet, in speaking of the young gladiator,
mentioned him as his nearest friend and comrade-in-
arms. The letter is as follows: —

I confine myself to thanking you to-day. No one has ever
shown such zeal and clearness of mind in action. You have,
indeed, every right to be conceited. We others only usurp this
privilege. In comparison with you I am only a modest fly.

And again, in another part :

Good-bye, and believe me when I say that you are dear to
me beyond words. I am glad I was not mistaken in you. I
never trusted any one so much, I who have been suspicious, not
by nature, but as the result of unfortunate experiences. Since
I have received your letters my courage has risen and I am
better.

It is almost pathetic to see this man of forty-six,
a great poet, broken down by sorrows, realising the
protection of this young soul of iron which only
twenty summers have served to mould to unyielding
strength, and which still has enough courage left to
serve all who appeal to him for help.

Lassalle also told us many amusing anecdotes in
connection with his stay in Paris at the time. We
enjoyed one particularly, of which I spoke on some
other occasion.

Lassalle had a letter of introduction to a well-
known and very beautiful lady, and according to the
German etiquette of the time, called on her at twelve
o'clock, a most unusual hour for Paris. He rang the
bell and gave, as he thought, his card to the man-
servant who opened the door. Whereupon the man

125

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

ushered him into an elegant boudoir saying, " Prenez
place, Madame viendra tout de suite I " The door
opposite opened, and a lady, in very pronounced
neglige, with bare feet pushed into dainty slippers,
came in saying, "Ah! vous voila, bonjour!" sat
herself down on the sofa, pushed off a slipper, and
presented to him a sweet little rosy foot !

Lassalle was, of course, extremely astonished, but
pulled himself quickly together, pressed a kiss on the
little foot, and said, "Charmd, Madame, de cette
nouvelle mani&re de faire connaissance. C'est bien
plus joli, et surtout plus intime que d'embrasser la
main ! "

The lady jumped up, put up her lorgnon in
indignation, which was speedily transformed into
embarrassment.

" Mais, mon Dieu, Monsieur ! Qui gtes-vous ?
Je vous ai pris pour le pedicure, vous m'aviez envoys
cette carte."

In taking up the cards that had been left on him
at the hotel that morning, the advertisement card of
the chiropodist in question had been among them,
and he had inadvertently sent it in to the lady
instead of his own. Explanation ! Tableau ! Peals
of laughter ! " And," he added, " I never had reason
to regret having kissed this foot. I was right ; it
was the most intimate beginning, and my principle
has always been never to take a step backwards."

His high spirits inspired us with renewed energy,
but we were, nevertheless, glad to follow the men's
advice, and take a short-cut across the fields.

Our jokes and laughter were interrupted by the
most dreadful howls and bellowings from all sides.
It was a dark night, and the moon had not yet risen,
so we could distinguish nothing in our first terrified
surprise at the attack. The ladies began to scream,
as a shower of blows delivered from clubs, sticks,
and fists descended upon us. We saw ourselves
surrounded by a herd of creatures that could only

126

ATTACKED BY CRETINS

be described as devils in half-human and half-animal
form. They were horrible cretins — the very
lowest form of humanity. Not one or two, such as
one sometimes meets in mountain villages, but a
whole colony of them — dwarf-like, yet sturdy, and
their rage lent them the strength of bears. Later,
we heard that an entire community of these creatures
inhabited this district.

We defended ourselves against their onslaught as
best we could, but Lassalle was the only man of the
party whose strength was superior to theirs. He
struck right and left — a very Siegfried in contest
against the hellish brood ! Our other male com-
panions were short and slight, and unable to reckon
with these enraged creatures, of whose guttural
ejaculations we could understand nothing. We all
fought desperately with our umbrellas, sticks, and
leather straps, but all to no purpose, for our garments
hung in shreds upon us, when at last the creatures
gave in, and burst into lamentations and tears.

It was only now that we were able to gather
from them that our short-cut had led us over their
harvest-fields. They were furious at seeing their
crops in danger, and were only pacified at last by
presents of money and assurances of our goodwill.
Upon this they withdrew.

But what an appearance we presented, especially
Lassalle, who, during his courageous defence, had
received two heavy blows on his nose and forehead !
His face was all swollen and bruised ; and we limped
home in a sorry plight.

Our one idea now was to postpone the journey
home to Geneva, which had been planned for the
following day, and to nurse the nose back to its
pristine beauty.

Next morning, his face was purple and brown,
but his good spirits helped us to regain our own.
We laughed at the " Dandy" who wished to captivate
mamma, looking like a ruffian ; and his nose having

127

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

been bandaged, we were as merry as children discuss-
ing the long and happy future that lay before us.

I had to describe my parents minutely to him ;
also my brothers and sisters and all our most intimate
friends, as he intended captivating every one of them.

To those days belong several letters to the
Countess, which were published in the Sorrows of
Lassalle. Among others he wrote the following : —

The matter is becoming serious, very serious, and the
magnitude of its proportion fills me with preoccupation. I
cannot retrace my steps now, and I really hardly know why I
should wish to. She is a beautiful woman, and the only one
whose individuality makes her peculiarly fitted to be my wife.
The only woman that even you would approve of. Therefore,
en avant, across the Rubicon. Now that my old power and
happiness have returned to me, I shall be able to bring matters
to a brilliant conclusion.

And again :

Her disposition is like one of Goethe's conceptions, for in
spite of her worldly bringing up the social veneer has never
touched her real self. Her only fault, and this is a gigantic one,
is that she has no will whatever — not a vestige of it. In itself,
this is, of course, a fault, but if we become man and wife, it would
perhaps cease to become one, for I will have enough for both of
us, and she would be as an instrument in the hand of an artist.
It will naturally render our union more difficult to accomplish.
To-day she is decided, but how long would a being so devoid of
will be able to resist opposition ? I mean to talk to her very
seriously about this, before I take any steps whatever.

In a letter written three days later he says :

Everything is now definitely arranged. It is no small
piece of luck for me at the age of thirty-nine and a half to have
found so beautiful a woman, whose personality is so sympathetic
to mine, who loves me, and — a necessity in my case — whose will
is absolutely subservient to mine. God knows what the parents
in Geneva will say to it all ; anyhow, both of us have decided to
carry it through, no matter what happens.

In a third letter, dated Berne, August 3, he writes :

Helene has now decided, if I wished it, to run away from
her parents to-morrow, and follow me to the world's end as a

128

HAPPY DAYS

gipsy. I sincerely hope and believe that her parents will consent
at once, or at least, after a few attacks of the stormy eloquence
with which I intend to bombard them ; otherwise, by heavens,
I will stand at nothing !

As I said before, I had written to the Countess.
My letter was full of feeling and admiration for the
"motherly friend of my eagle," and I had assured
her of my "childlike and affectionate devotion."

How inexperienced I must have been in those
days, in spite of all my worldliness, and how little
Lassalle must have understood women's character,
notwithstanding his many love episodes ! It is com-
prehensible in his case, f or every genius is a child a L
heart. But how I could, even young as I was, have
imagined, even for a moment, that this other woman
would ever allow another to usurp the place she had
held so long as undivided ruler in the heart of this
great man, is to me now incomprehensible. She
might have condoned his little love affairs, but she
would never forgive a serious and deep love. One
can hardly blame her looking at it from a human point
of view.

If we had not been so full of ourselves and our
own happiness in those first days, it must have struck
me as curious that I had received no answer to the
letter I had written to Papa Holthoff ; but neither of
us troubled.

Lassalle believed implicitly in his confidante, and
we were so lost in each other that neither of us
wondered at the silence of Holthoff and the Countess.
That my old friend, who at the same time was a friend
of my family, and who had hitherto been entirely on
my side, could ever play a double game never occurred
to either of us. On the contrary, Lassalle said that
the moment he arrived in Geneva he would telegraph
to Holthoff to join him. He counted on him as the
most powerful intercessor with my parents, and said
that, as his lawyer, he could arrange all business
details with my father. We both looked forward

129 K

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

to meeting this friend, who would be so pleased at
our happiness.

These few happy days ended and the time arrived
for us to say good-bye. How full of joy and hope
we were ! Ferdinand was to follow me by the next
train, and we were to meet the same afternoon at
my friend Caroline R.'s. We did not travel by the
same train, for the sake of appearances, much to the
astonishment of my American and English friends,
who looked upon this deference to conventionality
as ridiculous. We did it also in order to give my
parents no cause for displeasure. I therefore travelled
to Geneva with the elder of the two English ladies.
Ferdinand and I embraced each other at the station
for the last time as happy people.

130

CHAPTER XX

On arriving at home, I found them all in a state
of rejoicing over my sister's engagement to Count
Kaiserling, whom we all liked extremely. Carried
away by this, I was foolish enough to confide my own
engagement to my mother.

Had I announced my intention of murdering the
entire family in the most brutal way, it could not have
evoked a greater storm of horror and indignation than
did the announcement of this event which brought so
much happiness to me.

It was the work of a moment for her to rush to
my father ; to put him in a towering rage ; to return
with him to my room — both of them furious.

At first I could not understand this sudden and
violent attack. I tried to explain to this enraged
couple that the man they were attacking so un-
warrantably was a world - famed philosopher and
scholar, but they gave me no chance of speaking.
They used expressions which I would have deemed
impossible in people of their birth and education.
My father used such insulting language that at last I
felt the Viking blood of the "Tonniges" (the old
Norse name of my family) rise in my veins. I called
out proudly and distinctly, "You can do as^you like I
I mean to marry Lassalle."

*' I would rather shoot you down like a mad dog,"
my father shouted as he rushed away, putting an end
to this terrible scene. After he had left the room,
foaming with rage, I wrote the whole story to

131

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Lassalle. The rest of the family went into the
dining-room, leaving me alone in my room as a kind
of prisoner. I summoned my faithful maid Th^rese,
entrusted her with the letter, and bade her deliver
it immediately at the pension where Lassalle had
alighted.

My letter ended with these words :

In any case, I will be as firm as a rock ! How I am
longing for you, my dearest heart. It is six o'clock, and you,
my lord and master, must have arrived. The very thought of
this gives me strength, for I need your presence to counteract
my weakness.

Thdrese had hardly left, when, looking at the
clock, I discovered that Lassalle must be arriving at
Geneva at about this moment. I made up my mind
and left the house. The servants were busy waiting
at table, so I escaped unobserved. When I arrived
at the pension, he was just alighting from his cab, and
looked at me in consternation as I stood before him,
pale as death, and in the greatest excitement. He
opened the door of a sitting-room, and said to the
hotel waiter, "Let no one disturb us."

Th^rese had given him my letter, which he still
held unopened in his hand.

I sent Th£r£se home, in order that she should not
be missed, and as I was in an almost fainting condition,
I signed to him to open and read it.

I closed my eyes, and wondered what our next
step would be. Then a most unexpected and dreadful
thing happened, which was the beginning of all the
tragedies which followed. He called out, " Helene!"

I looked up, frightened at the unusual tone.
" You disobeyed me — you have betrayed everything
to your mother against my wishes, and through this
have spoiled everything."

He stood before me, pale as death, his blue eyes
blazing with anger. When he saw how frightened I
was, he grew more gentle and said, *« No, no 1 I will
arrange it somehow ; but what are we to do next ? "

132

FAMILY TROUBLE

I looked up at him in astonishment and said,
" Now that I know my parents to be inexorable, it
would be impossible for me to remain with them.
Therefore I have come to carry out the plans we made
before, and to fly with you abroad to be married."

For one moment he folded me gratefully in his
arms, then instead of being delighted with my decision,
said, "No, I will not run away now. With whom
do your haughty parents think they are dealing ?
Now, I will only take you from their hands as my
bride, and they themselves shall lead us to the
altar."

"Ferdinand," I said warningly, "my father will
never give his consent — believe me. Let us fly ! "

But he shook his head obstinately and said, " His
will must give way to mine ; he shall learn to feel my
power ; I shall conjure up heaven and hell against
him. You must go back to them."

"Never!" I answered indignantly. "This hour
has severed us for ever."

" Very well, then — go to friends. I will ask my
friend Countess Hatzfeld to come here immediately,
who will take charge of you, and in the meantime
I will battle against all your fathers prejudices, and
shall succeed 1 "

"Ah! the Countess," I said sadly, for all joy
and courage seemed suddenly to have deserted me.
"She is one of the chief grievances my father has
against you. Even now, a relative is staying with
us, a Dr. Arndt, who has been telling my parents
dreadful stories about you and the Countess ; calling
her an immoral woman — even worse ; and this has
enraged my father more than your politics."

Ferdinand laughed derisively.

" Oh, indeed ! Dr. Arndt ! His motives are
mere petty vengeance ; only a few months ago I
had him turned out of my 'universal union' for
working men on account of his narrow-mindedness
and want of tact."

133

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

"That is all very well, but papa thinks a great
deal of this nephew."

" Very well, then, the Countess must stay at home,
and I will ask my mother and sister to come here.
Nothing can be said against them. They, and friend
Holthoff, will take you under their protection."

Holthoff! Good heavens! I just remembered
that a letter was lying on my writing-table at home.
In the hurry and excitement I had forgotten it. It
was still lying there unopened. I told Ferdinand
of this, but he hardly seemed to listen, and said :

" Yes, Holthoff must come here ; he loves us
both and was always favourable to our marriage."

I made one more appeal to him, although I felt
it was almost hopeless. I placed my hands on his
shoulders, and, looking up at him entreatingly, I said,
"Ferdinand, do nothing of all this. Don't send me
back. Let us go away together. I am prepared for
all. I am your wife, your slave ! "

But he remained firm.

Later on, I heard that people had said that these
words proved I now became his mistress in the hotel.
Good heavens ! Our minds were far from erotic
thoughts. We hardly thought of our love and
passion in those dreadful moments. With him,
wounded vanity was in the foreground ; with me,
sheer despair. Indeed, as an old friend of Lassalle's
remarked afterwards when speaking of his extra-
ordinary behaviour on that occasion, " If we had
belonged to each other entirely in that fateful hour,
neither the family nor fate would ever have succeeded
in parting us."

Perhaps !

I believe I have thought more of the part Lassalle
played in this hour than of anything that has happened
to me during my whole life. I have come to the
conclusion that his behaviour was due, not to
wounded vanity, arising from my parents' refusal, but
from other causes, the knowledge of which I gleaned

134

FLIGHT WITH LASSALLE

from a letter which he wrote to a friend before he
left for Rigi Kaltbad, and which ran as follows : —

I am dead tired, and strong as my constitution is, it has
been shaken to its very foundations. My excitement is so
great that I am unable to sleep at night. I toss about till
five o'clock in the morning, when I get up with a bad headache
and am utterly exhausted. I am overworked, tired out. The
superhuman efforts I made to work out in four months the
Bastiat-Schultz affair, the horrible disappointment and annoy-
ance that the apathy and indifference of the working classes
caused me, were all too much, even for me. I am playing a
metier de dupe, and my annoyance is all the greater, because I
am not only obliged to suppress it, but to appear sometimes as
if the reverse were the case.

This letter testifies to his energy, which was
strained to its utmost limits. After only a few
weeks of leisure on the Rigi in which to recover
from his fatigue, there came all the excitement of
our meeting, engagement, and threatened conflict
with my family. He, or rather his weakened nervous
system, must have been seized with a sort of moral
insanity, which made him — usually the strongest-
willed being, and one who never hesitated before
making great decisions nor made the slightest con-
cession to conventionality — act like the most straight-
laced bourgeois. I suddenly remembered the fable
he had told me, and called out desperately :

" Don't try to carry the donkey now, it is not the
moment to do so."

Just then some one knocked loudly at the door,
which flew open, and Thdr&se appeared. " For
heaven's sake," she almost shouted to us, "fly at once.
I have brought a carriage with me. Every one is
looking for you at home, and the train starts in a
quarter of an hour."

This was the last chance given me by fate.

Ferdinand — whose features had become almost
stony — offered me his arm, saying, "Come, I will
take you to your friends, and you must stay with
them until my mother and Holthoff arrive."

135

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

I said nothing more.

Th£r£se stood wringing her hands at the carriage
door. She knew my parents and what was in store
for us.

Broken-hearted, I arrived at my friend's and hardly
felt the pressure of Ferdinand's hand, which he rested
on mine, whispering words of courage.

My friend received me most kindly. She promised
I should see no one but Th£r£se, and Lassalle said,
quite relieved, "Then you are safe here."

At this moment, Madame R., who was standing
at the window, called out, "Your mother is coming."
I was terribly frightened, but Lassalle, relying on his
power over women, said, " Heaven sends her to us.
I will see her and speak to her."

The scene that followed between him and my
mother was so terrible that it killed for ever any
spark of feeling I might have had left for her.

As soon as she saw us, she exclaimed, " I will
not stand this man in my presence ! Out with
him 1 " Lassalle approached her with dignity, assured
her of his respect for her, and his love for me, and
said at last, "For heaven's sake, tell me what you
have against me."

She turned her back to him and screamed out,
" I owe you no explanation why, but my husband will
have you banished. You shall be thrown out. Now,
out of my sight ! "

I was indignant. I approached Lassalle, and,
laying my hand upon his arm, said, " Come, let us
go ; I cannot stand hearing you spoken to like this ;
no one shall treat you thus in my presence."

He took my hand, and said quietly and politely
to mother, "Do as you please, Madam, you are
unable to put me out, for always and in all circum-
stances I can only see in you Helene's mother. I
shall not forget this for one moment, nor shall I
allow myself to be carried away into saying hasty
things."

136

MY MOTHER'S ABUSE

Instead of calming the excited and enraged
woman, it only made her worse, and when Lassalle
said that he would go to my father like a sensible
man, and arrange everything quietly, she replied
rudely, "My husband will not receive you; he will
have you turned out by the servants."

"No, he will not do that," said Lassalle quietly;
" I am not a man whom one ' turns out,' but as I do
not wish to humiliate us all by exposing Helene's
father to such a temptation, I will write to him."

" He will return your letters unopened."

" If he does that, Madam, even my patience will
be exhausted ; we shall be justified then in helping
ourselves, for we shall be forced to do so."

She answered him ironically, "You have done
this already ; you have led away my daughter to this
unheard-of step. She has left her parents' roof and
refuses to return. You are a brute, you have stolen
my child ! "

At this I flared up. " He did not ! I went away
because I feel I belong to him. You have destroyed
the love I had for you, and I never wish to return."

I was terribly excited ; my whole being turned
against my unkind mother, and towards him whom I
now loved madly ; but once again he damped my
ardour when he said quietly, even smilingly, "Do
you really think I have stolen your child, Madam ?
You shall see how wrong you are ! Helene, tell me,
Would you do anything I asked you ? Would no
sacrifice be too great for me ? Would you, if I
wished it, go away with me — do anything I ask you ? "

"Certainly," I answered unhesitatingly, although
with an anxious heart. "I will do anything you
like ; go away with you at once. Ask anything
you like of me — anything except return to my own
people."

"And it is just that which I ask of you ! The
very greatest sacrifice you could make for my sake.
Will you do it ? Will you ? "

137

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

" If you really can ask me this, then, Yes ! But
think what you are doing. I am so frightened — do
not send me back to them. I am trembling at the
thought."

"You will do it for me," he said firmly. "And
now, Madam, I give you your child back again.
Listen ! I, who could have done with your daughter
what I pleased, have returned her to you, although
only for a short time. She is only going with you
because I wish it. Never forget that — and now,
farewell." He turned to me and said, " Adieu for a
short time. I will never forget what you are doing
for me now in returning to your parents, and can
never thank you enough. I ask nothing more of
your will and strength. I know this is sufficient —
all else will be my care. Do not allow yourself to
be ill-treated, but do what they ask of you. I shall
know everything they do to you, and shall fetch you
away at the slightest injustice. Remember this, and
do not be unhappy. They shall not keep you long.
Conform patiently for a short time to their will ;
mine is the stronger ; we shall win — and now, once
again, adieu for a short time."

He kissed my mouth and hands passionately many
times, and then left.

It was the last time I ever beheld him. He had
hardly left, when my mother poured a volley of
invective on me, in the midst of which my father
entered, brandishing an old rifle and exclaiming,
" Where is this insubordinate daughter ? Let me kill
her."

My friend tried to pacify him, but he seized me
by the hair, which I wore in flowing curls, and
dragged me across the street into our house. Here
my window and door were nailed up, and I remained
a prisoner.

Later, when the volume of Lassalle s Intimate
Letters fell into my hands, I think I found another
and perhaps the truest clue to his unaccountable

138

LASSALLE'S FILIAL LOVE

behaviour at this time. No doubt his wounded pride
and vanity, and the weak state of his nerves, had
something to do with it all, but he, like most Jews,
had a most exalted love and respect for his parents,
and imagined that in the end he could conciliate mine.
Like many other great men, he was often as naive as
a child.

He overlooked the difference in character of our
two families, also my father s haughty love of position,
which he considered would be endangered by his
daughter's marriage with Lassalle, the man of the
people. He regarded everything through the medium
of his own love for his parents, and his soul could
conceive no lesser love existing between parent and
child in any station of life. This sentiment was
clearly shown in many of his letters, and particularly
in the following one addressed to his sister : —

Dear Sistee — As you know, my much-loved parents were
with me about a fortnight. You can easily imagine how happy
their visit made me, but I was terribly anxious and upset at
hearing of all my father's troubles. It is a fearful thing that he
and my dear mother should be suddenly plunged into poverty
— almost need — after their long and industrious life.

I believe that my father has not told me all, in order to
spare me anxiety, as, alas ! I am unable to help them. All I
beg of you, dear sister, is to arrange matters amicably with my
mother, and not to allow family dissensions to add to my father's
burdens.

Remember that people in unhappy circumstances demand
more tenderness than when they are in the full flood of success.
I can't tell you how unhappy it makes me not to be able to
help them. Young as I am, I have had a most varied life ; I
have not only been successful in a case brought against me for
high treason, but on two occasions I defied imprisonment in
non-political lawsuits. I have suffered much injustice and
unhappiness — seen my highest hopes dissolve in air ; but
assure you that nothing has ever distressed me so much as to
see the unfortunate position to which my parents are reduced
and to be unable to help them.

I have other ties. The affair of the Countess which I
undertook — being mixed up with political affairs — was at its
most critical point during the revolution of 1848, and is now in

139

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

a state of collapse. In these circumstances I am in honour
bound not to desert her. The captain is the last person who
should leave a sinking ship, and even if this were not the case,
what real good could I be to my parents ? The present moment
is not one in which mind and intelligence can be turned to any
real profit. If you and your husband could take care of them,
I would look upon it as a personal benefit, which I would strive
to repay you all my life. Although I am unable to help them
now, we are all of us still young, and later it is quite possible
that I may be in a position to repay you tenfold for anything
you may do for them now. My life is the best proof that my
word can be relied on, for I have just gone through four years
of anxiety and danger to keep a promise given. Nothing would
hurt me more than if you did not do your duty towards them
now. — Your loving brother, Ferdinand.

Dusseldorf, %nd May 1850.

As I understand him now since the perusal of this
letter, he, wishing to become a son to my father,
could not act otherwise. As his filial love had
softened his own father's heart towards him at a
critical moment, he came to the mistaken conclusion
that his generosity, in returning me to my mother
would soften my father's heart towards him.

When one remembers how Ferdinand's father
opposed his studies, his filial love becomes all the more
touching.

I forgot to relate what Ferdinand told me about
the difficulties he experienced from the opposition of
his family, which he only overcame by the greatest
efforts. His father wished him to go into a banking
business, and placed him in the School of Commerce
at Leipzig, from which he ran away, and returned
home without his father's knowledge. His mother
and sister hid him in a little room under the roof and
brought him his food there. He never left this room
for months, and studied day and night, until he went
to one of the Professors in Breslau to be examined.
He passed this examination so brilliantly, that he
went with the certificate to his father, who then
consented to allow him to study at the Berlin

140

LASSALLE'S LETTERS

University. He was then sixteen years of age. In
spite of his father's undue severity, Lassalle's intimate
letters, even those written during his student days,
breathed the greatest devotion to his parents, and
both he and I made the mistake of judging all the
people mixed up in our story by our own standard.

141

CHAPTER XXI

I was a prisoner — and a changed being. From that
moment I was a child no longer, and all sensation
seemed dead within me. The dreadful shocks to my
nerves, the final catastrophe, Lassalle's requesting me
to return to my parents instead of running away with
me, and my father's attitude (I was alienated for ever
from my mother since her insulting behaviour to
Lassalle), all combined to produce a kind of apathy
and incapacity of feeling.

Everything seemed incomprehensible to me. How
was it possible for all those who professed to love me
but a short time ago suddenly to treat me as they
did now ? I sat and brooded in the dark, my thoughts
going round and round in a circle. For how many
days, I know not !

The next morning, after my first entirely sleepless
night, my father appeared and handed me Holthoff s
letter, which he had opened, saying, " Here, read —
you can see for yourself what your good friend thinks
of your disgraceful behaviour with that rascal
Lassalle." He then left me. I read the letter upon
which Ferdinand and I had built so many hopes. It
was the answer to my letter written at Wabern. He
advised me in heaven's name to do nothing against
the wishes of my parents. Lassalle was not a fit
husband for any girl of good family 1 This was
Lassalle's best friend ! The one on whom he counted
and trusted implicitly — my best friend !

If we had him against us, to whom should we turn

142

HOLTHOFF'S DUPLICITY

for help? Oh, if I had only been able to show
this horrible letter to Lassalle yesterday, he would at
least know what to expect from his friend. I heard
later, as soon as he had received my letter, Holthoff
went to my uncle in Berlin, talked the matter over with
him, and then wrote to me in the manner described.
My uncle had assured him that my family would
never consent to this insane marriage !

So Holthoff made up his mind to become a turn-
coat.

The words of Ulrich von Hiitten out of Lassalle's
"Franz von Sickingen" ran sadly through my
brain :

" Sieh ! Herr, von Freunden das erfahren miissen,
Denen man stets mit willigem Gemiit
Und freier Liebe hingegeben war, das schmerzt hart ! "

The dreadful hours and days that followed were
only varied by the entrance of my father, who came
to ask me if I thought better of it all, or if I still
intended being the cause of his losing his position,
and of bringing all my family into disgrace. To this
I always gave the same answer, " I am going to marry
Lassalle." Then I sat in the dark alone.

They then had recourse to other measures. They
sent my younger brothers to me (I was very fond
of one of them). They were instructed to tell me
that I should entirely ruin their careers if I persisted
in marrying this dreadful "revolutionist." My apathy
made me insensible to their attacks, and I was
absolutely indifferent to all the dramatic scenes, and
the weepings and wailings of my mother.

To-day, as then in my loneliness, I ask myself what
could have been the precise reason for all this exhibi-
tion of malicious anger at the idea of my marriage
with Lassalle ? I have never been able to find any
satisfactory answer. I presume that my cousin
Dr. Arndt was at the bottom of it all. Lassalle had
not taken enough notice of his threatening words,
" I will remember this," when he turned him out of

143

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

the Workmen's Union, and now this mole was
busy underground digging a pit wherein to trap the
lion.

One night I heard a gentle scratching at my
door, like one of the dogs I was so fond of. It was
no dog, but my faithful Th^r&se.

She whispered through the closed door, "I am
only able to come to you because every one is asleep.
All intercourse is forbidden, gnadiges Fraulein, and
his Excellency says that any one leaving the house
will be shot. I felt I must let you know that Herr
Lassalle has left Geneva. I know it for certain.
What is to be done now ? "

The news came upon me like a thunderbolt !
"For heaven's sake, Ther&se, go and find out all
you can, and come and tell me at night."

She then stole away, and I was alone in my
despair.

Ferdinand had left Geneva and deserted me ! The
words echoed through my soul again and again, and
my heart became tortured by doubts.

" Has he given me up ? And has Holthoff per-
suaded him of the impossibility of his undertaking ?
My God! My God! What shall I do? What
shall I believe ? "

I suddenly realised how little we really knew each
other. He perhaps knew me, as it was easy to fathom
" the child," — but I him ! I had only seen him those
few months in Berlin, and then in the short glorious
days at Wabern. What had I not heard of his love
episodes ? Perhaps I was only one of these. Perhaps
it was not worth his while to fight such a hard battle
for "the child!" I have never felt myself so small
and worthless as on that dreadful night. No further
news reached me. I heard and saw no more of
Th^r^se.

My blood boils within me when I remember how
abominably we both were treated. My father kept
back all Lassalles letters, while Lassalle was under the

144

RENOUNCING LASSALLE

impression that they all reached me. On reading his
letters to Holthoff, published intheSorrows of Lassalle,
I realised what underhand methods were used in
order to deceive me (the weaker) and to drive him
(the stronger) to extreme measures.

The morning following the terrible night when
Ther&se had brought me the news of his departure,
my father entered the room and exclaimed in a
triumphant voice, " So, now you are free I Your
miserable lover has deserted you. No doubt he was
afraid of me, for I have summoned the authorities
to my aid, and soldiers are now in the house and
garden. As Ambassador this is easy for me. The
coward has thought wiser to fly."

My heart bled at every sentence uttered.
" How do you know this ? " I asked tremblingly.
" I know everything he does," was the reply, " but
I hear from Holthoff that he has persuaded Lassalle
to give up the whole affair."

I was again left alone, and in my humiliation and
anguish the following questions arose in my mind : —
"What can you be worth yourself, if no one
seems to give your happiness a pitying thought ? If
Ferdinand can give you up so easily after you have
made such a sacrifice as to return to your parents,
trusting entirely to his guidance and strength, then
give yourself up, sacrifice your happiness and every-
thing else, for you are not worth it."

Next morning, when the usual question was asked
me, my despicable weakness gained the upper hand
and I gave in. I uttered the fateful words, " Very
well, I give it up. I renounce Lassalle in order that
all of you may be happy."

The whole family rejoiced at this, but I stood
by perfectly apathetic.

It is impossible to describe my condition. In my
father's eyes I was transformed from a hellish creature
into an ideal daughter, but his praises left me as
indifferent as did his curses. It was only at this crisis

145 L

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

that they suddenly noticed how ill and wretched
I looked, and summoned a doctor. He examined
me in the presence of my mother, as they were afraid
of leaving me alone with any one ; they surmised, and
correctly, that I would have grasped any chance and
trusted myself to any stranger who would help me
to escape. Any one would have understood me better
than my own people. The doctor diagnosed great
nervous depression, and advised change of air.

The idea was welcomed by the whole family,
and that very evening I was transported to the other
side of the lake. This journey has always appeared
to me ridiculous. They feared that which I secretly
hoped, namely that Lassalle or some of his com-
panions would carry me off by force. If they had
only done so 1

However, nothing happened. I was taken in
pitch darkness, wrapped up in countless shawls and
veils, to a boat manned by gendarmes, and rowed
with the greatest precaution across the lake, accom-
panied by my sister's fianc^, Count Kaiserling. I
was quite indifferent as to the length of the journey,
or where I landed.

My family awaited us in Bex, and it was only
on arrival there that I realised that Lassalle had
lost another opportunity. I was still with my dread-
ful parents !

Nevertheless, I hoped against hope. I fancied
every workman I passed in a blue blouse might be
a messenger from Lassalle bringing me a sign of life.
Then again I lost heart, and in the many weary hours
that ensued my doubts returned, and I felt sure he
had deserted me.

146

CHAPTER XXII

Things were thus in our household, and with me,
when one day — when I was sitting at the window in
my customary pitiful condition — I saw three people
coming towards the hotel ; my father, Dr. Arndt,
and Yanko ! So my father had sent Dr. Arndt to
Berlin to fetch him ! The sight of him aroused deep
feelings of compassion within me.

A moment later he was at my feet.

" Will you take me ? " he sobbed.

" You ? " I exclaimed, horrified. " I wrote to you
from Wabern telling you whom I wanted. Noth-
ing is changed since then. My wish is to marry
Ferdinand Lassalle."

He told me later that I looked almost uncanny —
deathly white, in a long black dress, as if in mourning
for my happiness. He kissed my icy cold hands, and
tried to console me, and I felt once more that he was
my only friend, and one who would protect me
against my wretched parents.

The next moment he said, "I won't let them
worry you any more, and will protect you as I
promised grandmamma."

Then for the first time tears came to my relief.

He continued to tell me that shortly before his
departure from Berlin, after Dr. Arndt had told him
everything they had been doing to me, he had sworn
to sacrifice all for my happiness, even to giving me up
to Lassalle, but to throw dust in my parents' eyes,
he suggested my openly announcing my engagement
to himself.

147

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

I shook my head.

"But do you not see, beloved, that this is the
only plan that can save you ? It is only in such
circumstances that they would trust you to me," and
here he burst into sobs. " I am, and must be, your
faithful Moorish page."

We mingled our tears, but our heavy hearts saw-
no gleam of light in the future.

I replied, " I must tell you in spite of your being
so good and noble, that the day I see Lassalle,
nothing will part me from him again, even if to reach
him I had to step over all your corpses — yours
included. This is the truth, and I have never lied
to you."

Maybe these words, uttered passionately, and
revealing the depths of my feeling for the first time
to him, caused him to pause a moment. Then he put
his arms round me and said gently, " Even then you
would still find me at my post taking care of you."
After this, he went to tell my parents I had accepted
his proposal.

At this period matters came to a standstill. It
seemed as if fate was taking breath, in order to crush
us more completely. I heard nothing more from
any one, but received a short letter from Holthoff in
which he exhorted me " to be a good, dutiful daughter,
as only then could my friends return to me with love
and respect."

What I had done to lose them — in fact, what I
had done to all these people — is still an enigma to me.

How could Holthoff write like this to me when
at the very time he was receiving the most heart-
rending letters from Lassalle — letters that would have
moved a stone ?

I must quote certain of these letters, for they
alone can give an adequate idea of Lassalle's sufferings,
which were even greater than mine.

Oh, if my false friend Holthoff had only then sent

148

LASSALLES LETTERS

me one line to let me know what my lover was going
through, how very, very different everything might
have been.

The first letter ran as follows: —

Dear Friend — Why did I not follow your advice and elope
with Helene before her parents knew I was there ?

It would have been so easy when we were at Berne ; but
Helene wished to try and conciliate her parents before taking
drastic measures. This appealed to my loyalty and I gave in.

This is my reward ! On my arrival here yesterday I found
everything in a turmoil. Helene — who had arrived a few hours
before me — had told everything, and her father was absolutely
furious. The mother might have relented, but he prevented
this. I will pass over their disgraceful behaviour to myself ; I
only saw the mother for a few moments at a friend's. I have
not seen the father at all, but he sent two of his relatives to me
with the most absurd threats. Their behaviour to Helene is
simply disgraceful. She is locked up, no one is allowed to enter
her room, and she is utterly wretched. However, she is as
determined as I am, and I am resolved at all costs not to give
way. This affair may end badly, as nothing will induce me now
to retrace my steps. The only person who can avert a real
catastrophe, and perhaps bring matters to a happy conclusion,
is yourself. Will you come here for Helene's and my sake ?
Telegraph your reply, if you will. — Your half-demented,

F. Lassalle.
Geneva, Aug. 4>.

In this letter, he begins to see how foolishly he
acted in giving me back to my parents, but he was
still hopeful in spite of his presentiments of mis-
fortune, and trusted in the loyalty of his friend.
What foolish creatures we both were, and how blind
we had been !

A proof of Lassalle's foolishness was that during
these miserable days he wrote a desperate letter to
the Countess, full of his love for another woman, and
bewailing her loss. Oh I incomparable blindness !
Could he not guess that this would enrage his friend
against that other woman ? Also that it would
hasten on the tragedy ?

Part of the letter ran as follows : —

149

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Although I have fought with myself during twenty-four
hours, I now give in, and come to pour out my sorrows on the
bosom of my best and dearest friend. I am so unhappy that
for the first time for fifteen years I am crying. My criminal
stupidity is now my martyrdom. I am so utterly broken that
I feel justified in begging you to come here and comfort me.
You are the only being in the world able to understand what
it really means for my fortitude to give way absolutely. What
has come to me ? I, the universal adviser and helper, to be
thus begging for advice and help ! My conscience upbraids me,
and I am resolved to make up for my stupidity at all costs.
Should I not be successful in this matter — and I have my doubts
— I shall be destroyed.

His second letter to Holthoff is still more heart-
rending. The first time I read it, and even when I
read it now, I am overcome by the thought that
Lassalle's self-reproach, which grew stronger and
stronger, always turned on the fact that he had
delivered me — so weak and easily influenced — to the
unyielding will of my father.

It really seems as if some supernatural being had
placed a veil of blindness over every one of us, for
not one person taking part in our tragedy seems to
have been able to see clearly. Each person seems
to have done the wrong thing. It ran :

Dear and faithful Friend— I have scarcely the necessary
self-control to give you a clearer report than my letter of
yesterday. It is impossible to describe my state of mind. It
is an appalling thing to confess, but I am not ashamed to own
that I have wept a great deal during the past few days. The
ever -recurring thought, and one which drives me almost to
desperation, is, that it is all my own fault. I had the bird in
my hand for a whole week ; and could have flown with her to
Italy and by this time we should have been man and wife, but
she wrote to me so touchingly and nobly at Rigi Kaltbad (I
will show you her letter), begging me to try all amicable means
before resorting to extremes. In fact, this was one of her con-
ditions. When I got to Berne, I made other suggestions, but
she was still so hopeful of gaining our point in the usual con-
ventional way, and the most she feared was a few altercations,
therefore I had not the heart to over-persuade her. Tu Dieu !
If I had insisted (here all the Laocoon serpents sting me),

150

LASSALLE'S LETTERS

she would have followed me to Italy without the slightest
hesitation. But I wished to spare her all self-reproach ; she
was so certain of success, that if I had eloped with her, she
might have always fancied we should have managed the other
way after all. I hardly knew what to reply when she said to
me, " Let us begin in my way ; if it fails, we can always resort
to other measures.'" Then, to tell the truth, I did not know —
before our present separation — how dearly I loved Helene !
Until then, I took my lightly-won joy very calmly, was quite
pleased at the idea of getting married, but had no idea what
deep root this love had taken. No lion has ever lashed himself
into such fury as I when I think of my arrant folly.

Enough of this. The present situation is as follows : —

I have not been able to see the father at all. Helene's
premature confession to her mother made this impossible.
Helene is kept a prisoner. I was on the point of appealing to
the authorities about it, when I heard that she had been taken
away from here secretly — they say to a brother-in-law at Culm.

During the moments I saw her yesterday, she mentioned
that this was one of her father's plans.

Last night, her father sent two of his relations to me, who
told me Helene was gone. This may only be a trap, but
since then my inquiries have elicited contradictory reports.
And although I have had the house surrounded by spies, I
have not been able to get definite information. No letter of
mine could reach her, and she is unable to communicate with
me. The only word I have received from her is a letter that
was handed me on my arrival. The father seems to rule the
household with a rod of iron, and the flood-gates of his wrath
are opened on me. I was idiot enough to meet him straight-
forwardly, — hence his victory, and my most deserved defeat.

In these circumstances, it may be days before I find out
where she is. What I most fear is, that in time they will
succeed in bending her to their wishes — her will is so weak and
vacillating. The letter she wrote me after the great altercation
with her father was full of determination (you shall read it in
Berlin), but I fear this will not last if she hears nothing more
from me.

What is to be done now ? I don't know !

Of one thing, however, I am convinced, namely, I must have
Helene ! Workmen's Unions, politics, science, prison — all else
pales before the one thought of how to regain her. Can you
suggest a way ? Can you undo a fool's work ? If you can
do anything for me, Holthoff, I will thank you on my knees.
Remember by all that is holy, that you must be entirely on

151

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

my side. I am fighting for a woman who loves me madly, and
whom I adore more than she loves me. I don't mind what
sacrifices I make, or how long I have to wait, and would win
her even by committing a crime. I am indescribably unhappy,
dear Holthoff. When a nature as strong as mine loses all
self-control, it is thrice wretched. I weep whilst I write. I
am losing all pride, all faith in myself, and am like a broken
reed. I beg you to write to me immediately :

1st. What you will do to help me gain the father's consent.

2nd. How you will help me in other ways.

3rd. Find out where she is !

If we could be together once more — if only for two hours —
I would fly to Caprera, where Garibaldi's chaplain would marry
us at once, even without papers, which would make matters
irrevocable.

Fool that I have been !

Write — where to I hardly know, as my movements depend
on the news I receive.

Write to Basle — -poste restante, for I may be going to
Carlsruhe on the 15th of August, in connection with Helene's
affairs. I can think of nothing else. I could fetch your letter
there, or get it sent on to me. Good-bye Holthoff! I am
desperately miserable — a thing no one has ever heard me say
yet ! Sympathise with me. — Your F. L.

P.S. — If you should happen to discover her address and
write to her, do enclose this letter; it will help her to know
all that is in my heart.

It is strange that Holthoff seems to have made
no reply to these first three letters, which breathed
the anguish of a wounded heart, for the following,
which was the third one he wrote to his "dearest
friend," received no reply, nor were any of the
telegrams which he begs for so persistently ever sent.

Dear Friend — The only satisfaction is to write to you, for
you are the only one who can help me.

You can have no conception of my state of despair. Three
days ago I would have laughed at any one who would have
told me that I should love Helene as I do. She is my only
thought, and to weep is my only consolation. Although I am
a stranger here, I have managed to place a cordon of spies
round the house, who are watching night and day. Their
reports all tally in saying she is still here.

152

LASSALLE'SiLETTERS

One ray of hope at least !

Herr von Donniges was ridiculous enough to threaten me
with banishment, whilst I have requisitioned the police. Thank
heaven, there is a Radical Government, and a prominent
official has promised me news to-morrow. If I get it, and it is
reliable, I intend appealing through a lawyer to the President,
in order to set Helene free.

No one would recognise me, for passion has conquered my
reason. I often feel inclined to kill Herr von Donniges, to
break into his house armed ; then reason comes to the fore, and
shows me how absurdly my imagination is running away
with me.

If Helene is still here, things can be remedied. I shall
leave the place, and then her imprisonment would be at an
end, and the task of bringing her to me would be carried out
by my friends. The question is — Is she still there? Friend,
dear friend ! can you not help me ? Do come. You can
tell Herr von Donniges that it is dangerous to drive me to
extremes, for I should certainly be an ennemi terrible.

I intend to stop at nothing — and will risk my life to re-
gain the woman I lost through my incredible stupidity. If
you can think of any way of helping us, my whole life is at
your service ; it should be yours at any moment. — Your

F.L

P.S. — You will scarcely be able to influence by letter, but
you might by speaking to him. Is it possible for you to
come ? If so, let me hear by two telegrams — one addressed
here to Geneva, Pension Beauvais ; the other to Basle, Bureau
telegraphique — -post restante.

Friday night, 10 o'c.

Saturday morning early —

The various complications nearly drive me mad ! In my
normal condition I could get her back, even if her father hid
her in the moon ; but I am so pulled down by the last six
months, that I feel incapable of fighting. I fear Helene's
character will not be strong enough to resist the pressure put
upon it, but apart from that, think of her sufferings ! I am in
such despair, I don't know what to do. All day long I hear
the sweet trembling voice in which Helene uttered her last
words to me. If you see the remotest chance of helping us —
do so, no matter what sacrifice it would cost you to leave
Berlin. I implore you to do it ! I know it is needless to im-
press upon you the necessity of silence. — Your F. L.

153

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

It seems as if Holthoff deigned to answer at last.
This I gather from Ferdinand's fourth letter, of which
I only give a short extract, as it deals with persons
and things of a private nature, and mentions people
on whom Ferdinand had vainly pinned his hopes.

Dear Holthoff — I have just received your letter of the
7th. If I had to judge you by it, you would never hear from
me again. The only sensible remark in it is, that it is im-
possible to retract. The advice you wrote to Helene at Berne,
telling her not to hurry matters, was the very worst you could
have given. Unfortunately, we acted in this way when the
only wise thing would have been to carry Helene off to Italy
from Berne, and make her my wife. The fact of our not
having hurried means the wreckage of my life. I could
manage if I could only get one letter to reach Helene, but she
is so closely watched that, up to now, this has been impossible.
I, who have always managed to correspond as I pleased, in
workhouses and prisons, have not yet been able in eight days
to get a single note to reach her. Even visitors are not
allowed to see her. It is reported that she has left.

On Thursday morning Herr N. told me, on his word of
honour, that she had left that morning — and Saturday evening
I was able to see her with my own eyes and to exchange
greetings.

Nevertheless they continue to tell every one that she is gone.

They now say she is at some watering-place in the north ;

before that they said she was with relations at Culm. It is

possible, perhaps, that she did leave on Saturday evening, but

certain indications seem to prove that she is here still.

You see, dear friend, nothing remains for me but to dash
my head against a wall. This time, you may be sure, it will
be either the head or the wall that will break. Since last
evening, I feel strangely apathetic and quiet, although yester-
day I broke down under the weight of my sorrow. To-day,
again, I am firm as iron, and the strength of my will has
returned. I now intend playing this game to the end with all
the imperturbability of a chess player.

I have sworn to myself that the day I realise that Helene is
lost to me for ever, 1 will put a bullet through my head. I
have also sworn this to my friends, who all know I am in bitter
earnest. This thought has restored my equilibrium.

I have looked back on my life, and find that it has been
big, brave, and brilliant enough. A future age will know how

154

LASSALLE'S LETTERS

to do me justice ; and I shall either marry Helene or cease to
exist. In either case, I shall have ceased to suffer. Anyway
there is nothing to lose. The thought of this calms me and
restores my strength.

I shall not be able to spare much time in trying to win
Helene. I have neither time nor wish to defend myself in
Berlin against criminal lawsuits. Neither can I spare time
to go to gaol for six weeks, for in the meantime I might lose
her. True, I might find bail in Berlin, but that would not be
of much use to me, for, until I have won Helene, I feel quite
unable to meet the demands that are crowding on me from all
sides.

Until then, I can think of nothing else ; I am not made
to play the fool, of whom much is expected, but who falls short
of the mark.

I am not one who can patiently wait the development
of events.

Although I am no longer young, I feel that I could fight
months and years to gain her — if every day only brought some
definite plan I could work at for this end.

The day that my resources are exhausted, I shall cease to
interest myself in the matter. To suspend it and work in the
meantime at other things would be an impossibility to me.

Therefore most probably it will be settled in October one
way or another. The thought of this is a wonderful relief to
me. The game will be brief and fierce.

My plan is as follows, and I know that in any circumstances
you are incapable of betraying it. The day after to-morrow I
am going to Carlsruhe to meet friends, and to move heaven
and earth to induce the King of Bavaria to intercede for me
with her father. You will smile at this romantic project, and
I myself must laugh at it. But where all ordinary means fail,
romantic ones step in.

During my absence all arrangements will be made and will
appear as if I had not left. You, of course, will show nobody
this letter, and I will strive to get into touch with her. A
letter from her would settle everything.

Let us hope that this could be more easily effected in my
absence. If both plans fall through, then I shall return there
from Munich, in order to play the last and tragic act in the
drama.

It is just possible, but not very probable, that I might
return to Berlin first, and see whether any other resources are
available before resorting to extreme and decisive measures. It
may be that we shall never meet again.

155

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Ominous words ! Like so many others in
Lassalle's desperate letters, they seem to breathe
the presentiment of his death! They make one
shudder !

If she be elsewhere, and I find out where, a ray of hope will
re-enter my heart ; I should have preferred her, of course, to
be here ; but no matter where she be, I have enthusiastic friends
throughout Germany, Belgium, and France ready to help me.
I have managed to get together in a very short time more
excellent means of help than I should have been able to collect
during weeks in other cities. She could never have been
imprisoned and treated as she is by her despotic parents any-
where else. In fact, being of age, no other parents would dare
to behave as they do — it is criminal !

I have already been promised assistance by the most pro-
minent member of the local Government here, and the Procura-
teur General is prepared to enter the house by force, and set her
free, if necessary.

We are not yet agreed as to the best way I can manage to
be present at this forcible visite domiciliaire^ and without my
presence I should not care for it to take place.

If I were not there, she would be under the influence of her
parents, and she would never give a free answer to the questions
put to her by the Procurateur General as to whether she wishes
to quit her parents 1 home, whether she is there by her own free
will, or under pressure, whereas my presence would give her
courage.

We dare not risk the failure of this plan, as this would
augment ill-feeling. I therefore prefer to give it up !

In this fourth letter he speaks of yet another
plan, namely, to try and induce Geheimrat von
Boeckh to intercede with my father. Lassalle
fancied this plan might be of great assistance.
Above all, he wanted Holthoff to write to my
mother, and Boeckh to my father, to inform them
exactly who Lassalle was.

The misrepresentations of Dr. Arndt and others
led Herr von Donniges to believe that Lassalle was
a mere adventurer — a sort of spy of Bismarck, nay,
even a criminal who had been in gaol on various
occasions ; whereas the only sentences passed against

156

BOECKH'S LETTER

him were for political speeches and publications in
the press.

It seems that, in response to this request, Holthoff
did not write to my mother, but communicated with
Boeckh. This letter, which possesses a certain
interest as bearing on the subsequent catastrophe,
may or may not have been seen by my father.

Holthoff's double game seems to me incompre-
hensible, for while seeming to act in accordance with
Lassalle's wishes, he was doing his best to malign
him to my people.

Before quoting Boeckh's letter, I should like to
mention that the Gneist who is spoken of was the
famous barrister, Dr. Rudolph Gneist, Boeckh's son-
in-law — my father's most intimate college friend —
and my godfather. I do not know what part he
played in the whole tragedy, nor anything about the
papers in question.

Boeckh's letter was as follows : —

Dear Sir — In transmitting you herewith the papers received
from Gneist, I am in somewhat of a dilemma. I have been
requested to write to Herr von Donniges and express an opinion
upon a family matter regarding Dr. Lassalle. I consider that
the interference of a stranger, or even of a friend, in family
matters, is always more or less a doubtful proceeding. If I
were to take any step which might be construed as interference
on my part, Herr von Donniges would be quite justified in
resenting it.

But there is no reason why I should not express my opinion
of Herr Lassalle to you quite freely, and at the same time allow
you to make what use of it you may think fit.

I have known Lassalle for many years, and our acquaintance
became more intimate through Alexander von Humboldt,
who had a great opinion of him, and who strove to protect
him against various attacks. I consider Herr Lassalle a
most eminent man, possessed of varied and deep knowledge
of most subjects, of remarkable penetration and judgment,
and with an unusual power of expression.

As regards his political work, I feel sure he acts absolutely
in accordance with his own deep convictions, that he is nobody's
tool, but pursues his aim with entire independence of feeling,

157

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

fearing no sacrifices, and braving every kind of danger. He
has been reproached by cautious people for holding too rigidly
upon his own course, without looking to the right or the left.

He has many pleasing characteristics, and I confess that I
was always attracted by his animated and spirited conversation.

Let these remarks suffice both to you and Herr Lassalle,
who is already fully aware of my opinion of him, and my attitude
of mind towards him, as I have both written and spoken to
him in a similar sense. — Believe me, dear sir, etc.,

A. Boeckh.
Berlin, 23rd August 1861.

I give another letter of Lassalle's, written in a
despairing mood, after my enforced departure from
Geneva to Bex. He was as desperate at not know-
ing my whereabouts as I was concerning him, when
I was informed that he had left Geneva, and when,
believing these false reports, I acted with such miser-
able weakness.

Dear Fkiend — If there is an atom of love or interest in
your heart for me ; if one spark of pity glows there, you can
never be so stony, so inhuman, as to refuse my request. I had
hardly despatched my long letter to you of this morning, and
here I am again writing to you this evening, in floods of tears !
My seeming calm of this morning broke down under terrible
news. My sufferings are indescribable. I hardly know if it
would not be better to throw myself into the lake, and thus
end these weeks of torment which have proved fruitless
after all.

You know me, dear Holthoff, you know that I am a man ;
but where has my courage departed to ? I suffer so hideously ;
this agony would be sufficient to atone for a murder.

I am in despair. It is strange that I, who in the face of the
greatest obstacles always entertain the wildest hopes of success,
and feel myself only elated by them, should have — from the
beginning of this catastrophe — seen only the dark side, and felt
myself powerless to act.

I am Lassalle no longer — not even his shadow. I am
doomed to sink. I know it ! 1 am howling for Helene as a
lioness robbed of her cubs. I feel annihilated, crushed, thrice
broken.

If anyone had told me that I — at my age — should be seized
by such a wonderful passion which exceeds the rhapsodies of
the wildest poets, I should have scoffed at him ! Let us get to

158

LASSALLES LETTERS

the point. My terrible state of mind is owing to news that
reached me three hours ago.

A new man-servant, who three days ago, on Monday last,
entered the Donniges 1 household, has been won over to our side,
and states that Helene is not at home — she left last Sunday.

My blood froze when I heard the news, and I could hardly
drag myself home.

Gone ! And I know not where ! What misery lies in
this word " gone " ! Here she is of age ; in other places still
a minor.

I have succeeded in bringing here my most shrewd and
cautious friend, who cannot come to Germany. I have engaged
the very best lawyer here, etc. etc. All these are mere details.

But gone — and not to know where ; that is like a thunder-
bolt ! This maims and crushes one like lightning. How long
must I wander seeking on the face of the earth ? I quiver to
the very centre of my being when I think of the heartrending
misery I shall still have to endure. These last days have
taught me what pain means, and what cowards pain can make
of us.

I ask you two things, Holthoff, and if you refuse me, then
you have less humanity in you than a stone.

Here followed a foolish request regarding my
relations, etc., the gratifying of which would have
done no good.

Mercy ! dear Holthoff, write to me at once ; it would be
base of you to lose a day. It is possible that the news I heard
may be false, but this time I fear it is true, as there are several
indications of this.

What a terrible existence I have evoked by my loyalty and
consideration. If I had only thought of myself, Helene would
to-day be my wedded wife. And now I must roam through
Europe in order to trace her. The bare idea of this must drive
one mad. In your letter you ask, " Am I sure of Helene ? *"
Oh, dear friend, you have no idea of the proofs of love she has
given me, and yet she is too weak of will to allow one to feel
sure of her.

She is not created for struggles — she is too soft and
yielding.

If she could give me up (Hell lies in the very thought), I
could not even console myself with the thought that she was
not worthy of me. I love her far too madly to be able to
console myself with abstractions. Is it not a proof of her

159

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

weakness that I have not even received a line — a word from
her ? Can she be so helpless as to be unable to send me even a
line ? And supposing she is so timid, and allows herself to be
coerced, what would happen in weeks — months hence ? Will
she not become absolutely crushed ? If she gives me up — oh !
the thought poisons my blood.

Write at once. I am inexpressibly miserable. — Your

F. L.

Yes, she was as helpless as that, and it is a wonder
to me that his spies and friends did not testify to
this.

His last letter, written to Holthoff from Geneva,
which I will quote later, seems to breathe such un-
happiness and presentiment of death, that no heart
capable of feeling pity could remain unmoved by it ;
mine is wrung by it even to-day. How well he fore-
saw all that would happen to me, " the terrible
consequences to Helene."

He begged for a delay of three months, and, use-
less as the idea may seem, his reason was to gain time,
and to deliver me from the clutches of my persecutors.
Even if I had not given way to the wishes of my
family, I could never have survived those three
months in the state of weakness and ill-health I was
then in.

This last letter to Holthoff ran thus :

The news I have just received is far, far worse than any I
have had before. I thought I was in despair yesterday, but it
is only to-day that I know what despair really means. Listen !
Every one has gone — the father, the mother, the sister, and
Helene. Only the children are at home. The father left on
Sunday with her and her sister. The mother stayed behind.

The Wallachian — whom Helene had refused in Wabern —
arrived here last night by the last train. I suppose he came
because of this, or because the family telegraphed to him. The
mother left with him this morning at seven. Everything seems
to point to the fact that somewhere or other they mean to
marry Helene to this Wallachian, whom I shall then kill in a
duel, or, if he refuse my challenge, shall shoot down in the
street like a mad dog.

In these altered circumstances, I beg you, Holthoff, to do

160

LASSALLE'S LETTERS

me a service. Write to the father ; demand in her name and
in mine only one concession, namely to grant us three months 1
delay, during which time he will not force Helene to marry,
and give us a chance of winning his consent. Represent to him
that, if he persists in hurrying matters, tragedy, and even
crime, may be the result. I would kill the man, and fly with
her to America. I only want him to give me three months.
If by that time I have not gained his consent, he can do as he
likes. Everything is gained if he will only give me these three
months. I shall find means to persuade the King of Bavaria
not only to intercede for me, but to issue a positive command
to him to give her to me in marriage. There are men enough
in the nation who would do everything possible to save me, if
they knew that I risk my all in this affair.

The King could be persuaded, but for this I must have
these miserable three months 1 respite.

Write to him in this sense, make it clear to him that the
delay is only needed in order to gain his consent ; represent to
him the awful consequences ;his refusal may have for his
daughter.

If he grants my request, he will gain time himself and avoid
a hasty act which might bring endless trouble upon his family.
I will persuade the King. If all is well, I hope to be in Munich
before a week is out.

If you or Boeckh can give me letters for Munich which may
be useful for my purpose — all the better! Don^t lose a
moment in writing to Herr von Donniges ! Life and Death
may depend on an hour.

Answer to Carlsruhe — poste restante. I am going there
to-morrow. — Your desperate

F. L.

161 M

CHAPTER XXIII

The most disastrous thing Lassalle could do, now
followed ; he left Geneva ; left me, broke up all his
plans and undertakings ; plans which, in his eyes — so
blinded by despair — seemed practical enough, yet
which reacted so fearfully upon me on account of his
absence, that they were the immediate cause of the
collapse of everything.

Now "friends" in his camp, and the family in
mine, had a free hand.

Even Yanko's zeal cooled when he heard that
the "beloved had deserted me." He began to make
fun of him, and to speak slightingly of his love. He
said, " The man you love, who has in his hands the
proof of your love, is a coward ; he throws you over
and runs away ; but I, whom you deserted and thrust
aside, hasten to you, and put myself and my love at
your feet."

And I, ignorant of all that Lassalle was doing
for us, could only weep and be silent.

One thing astonished me ; I had renounced my
happiness — was so severely punished for my weak-
ness, and had done that which, according to my
parents, was the right course to adopt in the eyes
of the world, yet on every occasion I was made to
feel that the "world" ostracised me, and made me
responsible for the scandal which had been created in
the first instance by my father's senseless conduct in
dragging me, with loud curses, across the quiet street,
to imprisonment in his own house. His demand to

162

LASSALLE'S LETTERS

the Swiss authorities in his capacity as Ambassador
to be supplied with police and soldiers to guard his
daughter against her lover ; my secret transportation
over the lake at midnight in the gendarmes' boat ;
and the various tragic events that followed, were the
real cause of it all.

I was made to suffer for it.

My sensitive nature noticed how in our "circle,"
for whom the sacrifice had been made, many a hand
now clasped mine less warmly — many a door was held
but half open that formerly was left wide open to
me in heartiest welcome. I was indifferent to it all
in my suffering, and then, as now, regarded it all with
mixed feelings of compassion and contempt.

Fragments of other letters from Lassalle to me
still exist ; protestations of love, appeals for help, im-
ploring me to be true and firm — advice, threats, but
as none of these ever reached me they were unavailing.

I will quote some of these, but do not think he
would ever have written as he did, if he had not been
influenced by the Countess's friends, who appeared
in Geneva with her, and above all, by the "good
Countess " herself.

He writes :

My sufferings are beyond description ! You have made me
unspeakably wretched ; the mad love I now give you makes all
former love pale. I love you to distraction since last Wednesday
night.

Be courageous ; I am always near, even when we are parted.
If you remain true to me, no power on earth shall succeed in
tearing us asunder — I think and do nothing that is not for you.
Triumph'! My love for you surpasses everything that poetry
and legend have J ever said of love. Remain firm, et je me
charge du reste.

" It is impossible," he writes among other things
on the 10th of August :

It cannot be true what they tell me, that you have given
me up. It can only be a ruse on your part. It is impossible
that all your vows are only perjury, that you carry weakness

163

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

to such an extent. You have no right to break all the promises
you gave me — no right to repay me thus for my delicacy of
feeling in returning you to your mother. You have no right
to have allowed me to act as I have done on the strength of
your promises of firmness. Subjective happiness had rendered
me relatively indifferent, but suffering has dispersed all this,
and my love has sprung forth in mighty and terrifying strength.
Helene ! If you really could be untrue to me, you would not
be worthy of all I am suffering for you. Console me with one
line ! The thought that you could give me up brings me near
to madness. As Lesley says : " Then everything would be a lie,
and nothing in the world would be worth believing in."

Helene ! Beloved, adored with all the agony of despair !
Give me a line ! Tell me you are true.

Again, a thing strikes me which does not seem to
have occurred to any of those who have written
about our sad story. Where were these fragments of
Lassalle's letters to me found ? They could never
have come to my father's house, otherwise they
would have been found after his death with all the
others — even the earlier ones of the Rigi period. I can
only surmise that Ferdinand — who was absent from
Geneva — had entrusted these letters to the Countess
to give to me. Of course I never received them.

I have now related everything that happened
during the time of my stay in Bex, and, as far as we
can gather from his letters, all that happened to
Lassalle too.

As soon as my father was sure that Lassalle had
left Geneva, we returned there, I again under the
strictest surveillance. I remember very little about
those days, and believe that nothing of any importance
occurred.

Then a mighty blow fell upon me. My father
entered my room and with a cruel smile handed me
a piece of paper on which the following words were
written : —

Fraulein ! I have come here to arrange a matter which is
both unconventional and unfortunate. I feel that my inter-

164

COUNTESS HATZFELD

vention is not only justified, but is a duty I owe to my long
friendship with Lassalle, to the full confidence with which he
has placed this matter in my hands, and, as regards yourself,
to the letter you addressed to me a short time ago. You will
see that after all that has happened, it is even more to your
interest than to that of Herr Lassalle that your liaison with
him should be broken off in the most decisive manner. This
can only be possible through my intervention, and I have
decided to undertake this most unpleasant duty out of pure
friendship to him. For this purpose I propose that you should
come to me, either to-day or to-morrow afternoon between two
and four o'clock. Any hesitation might spoil all. I consider
it beneath my dignity, Fraulein, to assure you, that you need
fear no scenes of any kind, but I can express the conviction
that the step I am taking is one that will deserve your thanks.

Sophie, Countess Hatzfeld.

Every drop of the old Viking blood rose in me ;
my pride came to the fore. I was as much enraged
as my father was at the impertinence of the woman
who dared to write thus to me. Both he and Yanko
approved of my indignation.

"What shall you answer/' Yanko asked.

I took a card and wrote upon it, " Lettre repie"
and gave it to the messenger who had brought the
letter, telling him to deliver it as a receipt for the same.

This act of the Countess was one of the most
calamitous among the many things that led up to our
fatal climax.

Did she know what she had done ?

From this moment there arose in me distrust,
indignation and defiance against all those friends of
Lassalle who had congregated in Geneva during his
absence.

My rage against the Countess was boundless, and
it never abated. She well knew how Lassalle loved
me, what he suffered ; and she ought never to have
dared to so insult the woman he held so high and for
whom he was fighting at the present moment with
the courage of a lion to his last drop of blood.

If he had had any idea of it, I am convinced he
would have shot her down.

165

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

I little guessed that at this time Ferdinand was
in Munich, and that there, as well as in other places,
he was moving heaven and earth to attain our ends.
I heard of all this many years later.

He tried to obtain a letter in Munich from the
Minister of Foreign Affairs to my father. He also
wanted the King (my former playmate) to issue a
formal command to my father to give me in marriage
to Lassalle immediately.

He travelled to Mayence to try and win Bishop
Ketteler to our side, to induce him to baptize him
and marry us. In short, he went through fire and
water, and I did not know it, and believed him faith-
less, as he very soon had to believe me. Can one
imagine the terrible tragedy of this situation ?

What I now relate is written with my heart's
blood. Every step forward for me meant despair and
torments of hell ! . . .

I suddenly heard one day Lassalle was in Geneva
again! My faithful Th^rese brought me the news.
Could it be true ? I was now more rigidly guarded
than ever, yet at the news my courage rose. I
remembered all Ferdinand's consoling words, how he
told me he would fetch me away from the altar if I
stood there with another, and many, many other
things which inspired me with new hope.

My family, for I will not lay the awful guilt at
my father's door alone, heaped new miseries upon me.

My father came to me and said, almost pityingly,
that Lassalle had sent a man to ask me to return his
letters and presents. No ! That could not be. My
glorious lover could never act so meanly I My father
insisted, and when I handed him the letters and
souvenirs, weeping bitterly, he said, "Write a line
with these which I will dictate to you."

I wrote I know not what — but as I put down on
the paper at his dictation something utterly alien to
my heart, it occurred to me that if I signed it with
a pet name Ferdinand had given me, he must, and

166

TORMENT AND DESPAIR

would, understand 1 So beneath the dictated lines I
wrote, "The Child."

To this day I do not know if he ever saw what I
had been compelled to write, and understood the
dumb prayer of " The Child." I cannot tell whether
my father had arranged the whole thing himself, and
kept the letters and presents, or if it was a machina-
tion of the Countess.

On several occasions I was made to give written
declarations, and the demand was always preceded
by the words: "You have sacrificed yourself to us
once. Now, after having done a great thing, you
cannot draw back before small ones 1 "

I who had heard nothing from Ferdinand, in spite
of his presence in Geneva, considered myself entirely
deserted by him.

Completely broken in spirit and body, I was
coward enough to do everything they wished.

Among other things was a letter of which Holthoff
wrote :

I do not doubt that the letter to me was written under
coercion. It was either a ruse on her part, or she wrote under
pressure. Nevertheless, it is always possible that she has been
carried away by a wave of filial love.

No ! There was no question of filial love. The
real motives were inexcusable. Yet the blind con-
fidence in Lassalles power, the subterfuge employed
by my parents, were just as reprehensible as my
weakness and laisser-aller.

Holthoff appears to have become less severe in
his judgment since that letter, and even to-day I am
pleased to know it. Perhaps he had looked at things
from a worldly standpoint, from the point of view
also of the anonymous author of the Sorrows of
Lassalle, with whose ideas I greatly sympathise,
when he says :

As one can perceive in a former part, and finds here con-
firmed, Lassalle was of the opinion that his political position
had influenced the attitude of Helene's parents towards him.

167

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

* If this had been the case, it was quite comprehensible, for
Lassalle's career was, to say the least of it, a peculiar one for
the son-in-law of an Ambassador. The allusion to the difference
of religion and the engagement of Helene to the Wallachian,
were no doubt both of them quite valid reasons.

The ostensible and social reasons given by Helene's father
against the marriage with Lassalle, were those he drew from
the moral life of the latter, and the liaison which had lasted
several years and which could not be denied. Lassalle's
antecedents hardly offered a guarantee of any happiness to any
girl, and other fathers than Helene's might have felt justified
in drawing the same conclusions as he did. If his actions were
based on certain moral convictions, no one had the right to
criticise the means he employed ; indeed there would be no
foundation for any criticism.

Helene's memoirs have for the first time thrown more light
on the subject.

Who can therefore judge and condemn others ?

Helene is, of course, not impartial, and one must not lose
sight of this fact.

Once more Lassalle had taken a foolish step,
devoid of all knowledge of human nature. He had
persuaded the Minister von Schwind to send with
him as intercessor a certain lawyer, Dr. Haenle, who
was a perfect stranger to all of us.

I willingly admit that this lawyer had the best
intentions, but what could he possibly arrange ?

He had never seen me before, and was now to
deal with the deepest feelings of my wounded heart.

He certainly had the greatest respect for my father
(one must remember the role my parents played in
the intellectual life of Munich). As to Lassalle —
he had been attached to him by " Superior orders "
in a most intimate matter, without much previous
acquaintance or sympathy with him.

Behind the scenes, that is, without my knowledge,
another friend of Lassalle's, Colonel von Riistow, had
entered into negotiations with my father. What
part he played to Lassalle's face I do not know ;
anyhow, I found he was a most devoted friend to the
"good " Countess, and therefore shared her prejudices

168

A DICTATED LETTER

against our union. In this capacity he presented
himself to my father. His name was quite unknown
to me.

One day my father said to me that a gentleman
wished to speak to me ; that he had brought me a
letter from Lassalle.

A ray of hope seemed to enter my heart, but then
my father continued sternly: "You cannot see this
gentleman, and as for the letter, you must give it to
me unopened. What use would it be to reopen a
correspondence with the miserable cast-off lover of
Countess Hatzfeld, whom you have already given
up for our sakes? It would only lead to further
insults."

This made me wince, for the recent insulting
letter of the Countess was still fresh in my memory.

I nodded in silence.

My father left the room, and I felt utterly crushed.
Had he been able then to discover no other way but
this official one of sending me a letter ?

He knew quite well that Th6r6se was entirely
devoted to both of us. This thought tormented me,
and passed continually through my brain.

I wrung my hands in impotent despair. Perhaps,
after all, the Countess — the woman to whom he had
given his whole life — had succeeded in influencing
him. Official letters, as papa said, could be full of
insults.

Oh ! The martyrdom of those hours.

My father soon reappeared with new demands.
He wanted to dictate me a letter to Lassalle, which
was to contain a definite refusal, for, as he said, " the
man must be informed of this."

Once more 1 revolted. After entreaties and tears
on my side and arguments on his, about the ruin or
salvation of my family, which I held in my hands, I
gave in.

He dictated the letter. I wrote it.

If Lassalle had but known me a little better he

169

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

would have understood at once on the perusal of
such a letter that it could never emanate from me.
The dictation was as follows : —

Sir — Having with all my heart repented'of my conduct, and
having obtained the forgiveness of my jtarwe, Yanko ^ von
Racowitza, whose love and confidence I have entirely regained,
I beg to state of my own free will and inclination that there
never can be any question of a union between you and me ;
that I sever myself entirely from all connection with you, and
am firmly resolved to bestow all my devotion, love and constancy
upon my fianci.

I communicated the above to Herr von Holthoff in Berlin
before even receiving his discouraging letter.

Helene.

P.S. — I must request you to return me the letter you have
already received from me.

Can any one who knew me imagine for a moment
I could write such a letter ? Even while I was
penning it at my father's dictation, I had to smile at
his stupidity in supposing it would ever lead to the
success of his plans. It was so obviously alien to
my nature.

Ferdinand, who was so at home in our classics, would
surely be reminded of the scene between Wurm and
Luise in Kabale und Liebe, and realise that his
Helene was in a similar situation. Had he been
alone, I am even now convinced this would have been
the case, but I was reckoning without the influence
the Countess and his other " friends " had over him !

The anonymous author of the Sorrows of
Lassalle seems to have understood me better than
the man I adored, for in his book he says :

The letter roused a storm of indignation, and yet every
impartial reader could see clearly that in trying to prove too
much, it proved nothing at all, except indeed the coercion under
which it was written.

We know by Helene's letter to Holthoff, written in Wabern,
how keenly she suffered at the thought of the unhappiness she
was inflicting upon her earlier lover. And now, where the roles
are changed, is it likely that she would, in such a brutal manner,

170

THE "SORROWS OF LASSALLE''

dismiss the man she loved so well, in favour of this rejected
lover, who was suddenly brought upon the scenes once more ?

If Lassalle had retained the slightest power of judgment, or
remained calm, he must have realised this at once. Indeed,
the letter might have been a powerful weapon wherewith to
prove the extent to which his beloved was deprived of all
liberty of action and speech. In any case, it need never have
caused the slightest uneasiness, or led to any change of tactics.

By command of the King, an interview is said to
have taken place between Lassalle and my father, and
the latter was unable to give his word of honour that
I had acted of my own free will.

At this stage I do not clearly recollect whether
the interview took place before or after the letter
was written. The chief point, however, is how
Lassalle was affected by the reception of it.

In any case, he did not abandon all hope, for after
receiving it he wrote as follows to a friend : —

I will accept anything, provided it lead to the possession of
Helene. I could always manage the father. The chief thing is
to arrange an interview between Helene and the Countess ; the
latter will make her aufait with everything, and even show her
my letters without, however, giving the present situation and
plans away. Just now Helene has been talked into a state of
filial devotion, and I consider she would be capable of betraying
our plans to her father. He, of course, could then take pre-
cautions and she would be lost !

Nevertheless, one must make Helene understand that help
from our side is near at hand, and thus inspire her with courage.
Half her actions are due to the state of hopelessness to which
she has been reduced. Why do I expose her to these struggles ?
I am the idiot, that is certain !

According to this letter, he must have had an idea
of the terrible power of suggestion exercised upon me
by my environment. Even to-day my sensitive nature
is too easily influenced ; what must it have been then,
before I had been steeled in the school of suffering ?

At that time little was known of suggestion or
hypnotism ; one took no heed of such things, but

171

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Lassalle, with the prophetic eye of genius, detected
them nevertheless.

This letter is the last link in the chain that bound
us together, the last expression of his true nature,
unbiased by the influence of his surroundings.

Now the most awful hour of all arrived, the hour
in which the interview took place between Dr.
Haenle, Rustow, and myself, over which my father
presided.

I was told the King had sent a messenger, to whom
I was to repeat that which I had decided. In order
to avoid undue influence of any kind which would be
easy enough in my present weak state, my father said
he would be present to support me. I entered the
room in a state of apathy, not unmixed with a tinge
of ironical contempt — and faced the strangers. At
the bottom of my heart I was counting on Haenle,
but four cold eyes expressing curiosity and dislike met
mine. My heart contracted.

Rustow seemed to me a sort of devil, influenced
by the Countess, the other one a mere indifferent
onlooker.

I have been reproached with having uttered the
most heartless things during this g interview, as the
conversation was taken down by the strangers as
deposition. I will not accuse them of lying, any more
than I will attempt to excuse myself. Perhaps those
who are able to picture themselves in my situation
can understand my apparently heartless behaviour.
Sullen indignation and defiance mingled with the
despair at my heart. How could Lassalle expose me
to such a situation and allow the secrets of my soul to
be exposed to the inquisition of such men — who
evidently were friends of the Countess, and inimical
to me ? He had always understood me so well — even
my most sensitive feelings. He must have known
that, in the presence of my father, I could only
express that which he wished me to.

172

LAST LINKS WITH LASSALLE

No matter what happened, that hour has burdened
me with a terrible sense of guilt, for out of it arose
the duel which took place shortly after.

These men with their reports broke the last links
that united me to Lassalle ; at one stroke they
persuaded him of my unworthiness, and drove him
from the depths of despair into a paroxysm of rage.

Can one reproach him for this ? Certainly I
cannot.

173

CHAPTER XXIV

Destiny now hurried with rapid strides towards its
appointed goal.

One afternoon I sat down to write to Dr. Haenle,
for Yanko had promised me to take a letter to him
without my father knowing it ; I wanted to ask him
to receive me alone, so that I could at last open my
heart and speak freely to one of Lassalle's friends.
I hoped that after this interview he and Yanko would
help me to return to Ferdinand, and thus escape for
ever from my father's house.

Whilst I was writing this letter, which might have
changed everything — everything, Yanko entered ; he
approached me in silence, drew my hands away from
the paper, and in reply to my questioning look he
said softly, " You need not write that letter now.
I shall never be able to deliver it. Lassalle has just
challenged your father in duel, and I am going to fight
instead of him."

Horrified, and scarcely understanding what he
meant, I looked up at him, but he simply nodded
and went out — leaving me alone in my anguish — to
join the other men who were consulting with my
father as to the best course to pursue.

I learnt nothing more.

Great excitement reigned in the household ; that
was all I noticed.

A strange feeling took possession of me. It never
even occurred to me that there could be any question
in regard to the duel. I had always lived in a com-

174

A DUEL

munity where the duel was considered the only proper
means of avenging an insult to one's honour. During
my wretched hours there came a moment when I
almost looked forward to it as a possible means of
salvation, for I was so convinced (as no doubt was
Lassalle himself) that he would kill poor Yanko. I
knew that Lassalle was a deadly shot. Once he had
said to me, jokingly, " Whoever tries to rob me of you
I'll shoot straight in the heart, just as I always hit
the bull's eye on a target." Yanko had hardly ever
held a weapon.

I now believed my opportunity had arrived.
Lassalle will kill Yanko, thought I, and the poor boy
will be brought home dead, everything will be in the
utmost confusion. I will escape, and at last I will be
united to Ferdinand.

My heart in this hour fluctuated between hope
and grief. I carefully prepared everything for my
flight, burnt all my letters, packed a little bag, hoped,
planned, and waited. It is true that during these
hours I was coldly indifferent to the suffering and
fate of my unfortunate Yanko. Later on, I was able
to make up to him for this.

Just now my whole soul winged its flight towards
my idolised Ferdinand.

On the morning of the 28th Yanko left me after
a brief farewell. I was perfectly certain I should
never see him alive again ; then followed a few hours
of restless waiting, and of listening for the carriage
which was to bring home the " corpse."

Suddenly there was a sound of furious driving —
and Yanko stood before me.

It was an agonising moment for me when I beheld
him, whom I had hoped and believed as dead, standing
alive before me.

Few words were said, although he was kneeling
before me as if to beg for mercy.

He had hit where he had intended to spare ! His
very ignorance of fire-arms had caused the disaster ;

175

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

he had aimed at the ground in order to avoid his
opponent ; the force of the recoil had jerked his hand
upwards, and ... I hardly heard him ... he had
hit Lassalle ! Wounded ! ! !

Was it really possible ?

And what now ?

. . . Yes . . . What now ?

The thought rang in my soul, " How can I get to
him ? The Countess will be there, and all the other
men— who hate me — all hate me — all — all !"

I sat cold and apathetic for hours, staring at the
trees in the park. I was not in the least moved by
the words of sympathy and consolation that the
"living" Yanko poured upon me. On the third
day he came to me again, and stammered out amidst
his sobs, " He is dead."

I pushed him from me. " Go — I hate you," I
cried — then the whole world was blotted out.

For a long, long time afterwards an absolute in-
capacity for feeling anything took possession of
me.

I can relate no more of this period, for, after that
hour, nothing made impression enough on me to
remain in my memory. I know that I was dragged
to Berne, to Munich, but why, and what happened
there, I know not.

I only remember one thing ; in the depths of my
heart I did not believe in Ferdinand's death. Years
afterwards I said, "If I were told he were alive some-
where — anywhere in the world — I; should believe it,
and go to find him."

Dreadful times followed. All the venomous
pamphlets that were directed against me by the
opposite "party" were sent to me by revengeful
friends — his friends !

Poor things 1 Our souls had found and under-
stood each other long since.

It is not surprising that the impression I made on
people at this period was quite uncanny. The

176

A REMARKABLE LETTER

anonymous author of the Sorrows of Lassalle
wrote :

" One of the people participating in the tragedy,
thus described the almost uncanny impression that
Helene made on him. Pale as death, with white lips
and long black dress, her large eyes, seemingly bereft
of soul, were fixed on space. She seemed to him a
ghost, a vampire, or one of those legendary living-
dead beings.

"We saw her but for a few moments. She
resembled a marble bust with golden hair, — a nixie
risen from the grotto of Capri, — the wife of a Cassar,
endowed with demoniacal power."

To conclude the history of this awful tragedy in
my life, I will quote the portion of a letter written
by Lassalle to a lady who has remained unknown, as
it will serve to give an absolute description of his
character. Seldom in the history of mankind has a
human being so completely known and described
himself as Ferdinand Lassalle does here. In the first
part the letter deals with the aversion the lady felt for
Countess Hatzfeld ; the second part ran thus :

I will now tell you what I understand by love. If a woman
wishes to love me, she must give herself to me entirely, lose
herself completely in me, and expect nothing more in return
than a portion of myself. You will say this is an unequal
exchange, but if you reflect a little you will see that this is the
usual normal difference between the love of man and that of
woman.

A man, for instance, gives a portion of himself to the state,
or to science, and therefore can only give himself partially up
to love ; whereas a woman is able to, and ought to, give herself
up entirely to it.

If this is a general rule, how much more shall it apply to
me in particular, who am so very much a man ? I have been
through all kinds of misfortune and trouble, except one, which
I cannot have, and never will allow to come near me, and this
is the disturbance of the harmony of my inner self.

It has been my pride and my greatest happiness to keep
this intact. Dispositions like mine can know no happiness apart
from this ; therefore I must do my best to keep it. Remember

177 n

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

my long allusion to this in Hutten's speech to Maria ; read it,
for it is all taken from my deepest and most personal feelings.

" Willst Spaltung in den eig'nen Busen bringen? " etc.
(Wilt thou bring discord now within thy breast ? etc.)

You will see that I cannot do without this inmost harmony.
It is the foundation of my being, the strength and support of
my life. I should be miserable if it were ever disturbed. I
should feel annihilated and without defence. It is the Alpha
and Omega of my existence. It must be able to console me
for all outward struggles and conflicts, and compensate me for
many pleasurable things I have given up. '

Whoever wishes to love me, and be beloved by me, must
become a part of myself and be in absolute harmony with me —
like what I like, think what I think, and become united with
my world of thought and feeling in all things, because it is
clear that, should this not be the case, it would bring discord
into the very centre of my being. Other men might be able to
bear this, but not I, because I have made this inner harmony
the shield and protection of my life. I will not argue as to the
justification of my ideas, I only know that it is the case with
me, and that I cannot alter it.

My love is therefore of a consuming nature, and the being
who loves me, if not absolutely in unity with me, would have
to be remoulded according to my views. If, however, the
person were incapable of being remoulded, he or she must rely
upon his own individuality, and give up loving me. Should I
never find love under these conditions, I prefer to do without
it, and wander loveless upon a barren world. At least I should
avoid inward discord, and keep my Samson's locks, which are
the source of my strength, until the end of my days.

I have never pretended that it is any great privilege to love
me. In fact, I wrote to you lately that it is a most thankless
task. As I have said before, whoever wishes to love me must
do it in my own way, and become identified with my inward
self, just as Semele melted in the arms of Jupiter. No doubt,
for such people who are not so constituted, such love possesses
but little attraction. Nevertheless it is the only way to reach
my heart.

If you remember, I purposely did not wish to draw you into
any love-affair with me because, very naturally, you might
regard such love as egoism. I never took the initiative ; you
yourself felt and declared it to be an inward necessity of your
own. I never should have taken the initiative because I know
that such love as mine can give but little joy, and that there are

178

A REMARKABLE LETTER

very few women ready to give themselves up entirely to anything
so serious. I never made any secret to you of my relationship
with the Countess, but told you from the first that she is, and
always will be, my best friend. In fact, your love for me dates
almost from your knowledge of this liaison, and from the
speeches I made in Cologne. My peculiarities were never
concealed from you, therefore you can never say I deceived you.

I believe you could love me in any way, in spite of my
great friendship with the Countess. My attachment to her
partakes more of the nature of the affection of a son to a
mother, a brother to a sister, a friend to a friend, and a father
to a daughter. It has something of all these, but it has
nothing of that of a lover to the beloved. Therefore it need
stand in no woman's way any more than Pylades did to the
lover of Orestes.

Apparently you are unable to put up with all this, there-
fore, without any recrimination or reproach, the fact remains
that we cannot love each other.

You seem to upbraid me in your letter for not having
abandoned hope ; you also seem surprised that I am annoyed
at things which you have said now and again. The reason for
this is, that one can never hope to find perfect unity in any
woman, but must try to cultivate it. I reckoned on this
moulding process, and you must acknowledge that for a long
time I have taken a great deal of trouble in trying to remould
you.

Eh bien I — it did not succeed, either because you were too
strong, or your love was too weak. I see clearly by your last
letter that it is impossible, and that which I considered as a
momentary conflict is a fundamental part of your nature. I
also see that you wish me to be absolutely frank. I think I
have stated everything clearly enough. To sum up — you write
that you are convinced "that matters can never be on a
satisfactory footing with you two."" Very well ! neither would
it be with me alone.

There ends this remarkable letter, which is of a
very different tone from the passionate ones written
during our tragic story. This portrait, drawn by
himself, of the man I loved so well, moves me deeply
even now — as deeply as if he stood before me once
more, in all the strength of his wonderful personality,
with all his power of attraction, powerful, dominant,
and yet breaking up so miserably on such an

179

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

insignificant thing as the weakness and cowardice of
a young woman.

One may perhaps be justified in the query :
"Was this weakness the cause of his destruction?"
The discussion has often arisen as to what role
Lassalle would have played in the development of
Germany during the seventies. Would he, in the
boundless reach of his personal plans, with his
incomparable ambition and will, ever have been able
to adapt himself in the compact, gigantic edifice of
the German Empire ? Assuredly it must always
have seemed to him like a prison ! I therefore ask
whether we pigmies, all of us, were not mere puppets
in the hands of destiny, and used by the spirit of the
workFs history as the means of sweeping away the
giant who could have found no place in the Empire.

180

CHAPTER XXV

Now followed in my life months of horror beyond
description. To be obliged to remain with my
detested parents, and to see no deliverance but in a
marriage with the man who, even although he had
not wished it, was still the murderer of Ferdinand !
. . . Can one imagine a more terrible situation ? The
apathy I have already mentioned had taken possession
of me, and protected me during the earlier time from
some desperate act. Poor Yanko surrounded me
with such tender care, lamented and wept so bitterly
with me over our fate, that at last I pitied him even
more than I did myself. In my eyes — I have said it
thousands of times, and can only repeat it again and
again — the murderer of Lassalle was not Yanko, but
my father. Yanko had been forced into the appalling
situation. They had bewildered his not too keen
understanding with false notions of honour ; per-
suaded him he must take my father's place, and save
my honour which had been tarnished by Lassalle and
the Countess. In short, they had forced the weapon
into his hand with which he, without wishing it (that
I can swear before God and everything I hold sacred),
had killed the man for whose sake he had really
meant to sacrifice himself.

How often we talked of it later, how he had
intended, if the gods had been more merciful, to take
me himself to Lassalle, to redeem the promise he had
given to Grandmamma to make me happy, and to
watch over my happiness.

He was my only friend in those dark days — the

181

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

only human being I could speak to and tell all that
was in my heart ; who understood me and my pain,
yet who shared it. Whoever considers this miserable
position at home, my hatred of all my cruel relations,
who never for one moment felt the slightest pity
for me, will say with Yanko von Racowitza, " You
cannot possibly stay here, as circumstances are. Only
/ can protect you against these unmerciful creatures.
My heart alone can comprehend your suffering."
Whoever understands this young noble heart will
also understand mine, when I fled to it as my sole
refuge, and was thus eventually induced to marry the
murderer of F. Lassalle — who yet was innocent.

It was not only this great love and pity for my
suffering that bound me to him, but his truthful
open nature, and fearless disposition. I have suffered
so much (in life from the contrary that, to this day, I
am grateful to him ; for it needed courage to tell the
woman he had loved all the dreadful details of his
young and passionate life before he had known me.
I forgave all, not only because of his frankness, but
because I understood his fiery southern nature. I
trusted him as he trusted me, and the old hand of
friendship between us was stronger than ever.

Still, we were not as yet to speak of marriage.
First of all came a sort of chase. Poor Yanko was
hunted throughout Europe from land to land. The
Swiss authorities demanded his arrest, and only by
aid of all kinds of diplomatic finesse did my father
succeed in getting him, on various pretexts, to
Bucharest, to Vienna, Paris, and Munich, and back
again to Bucharest. It was a bitterly cold winter,
and the delicate southerner, now only twenty-one
years of age, contracted on these journeys, in snow
and storm, an injury affecting his lungs from which
he never recovered.

In the spring of the following year he was
hopelessly consumptive, given up by the doctors, and
his cry of longing for me — the only person he loved —

182

YANKO'S FATAL ILLNESS

penetrated straight to my heart. I had nothing
more to lose on this earth ; I went with my parents
to his sick-bed.

As is always the case in such illnesses, his state
fluctuated from slight improvement at joyful news —
such as my arrival — to the deepest misery.

On our wedding-day a strange event made a
deep impression upon us. To give this its full
importance I must sketch a little picture of my life
in Wallachia.

In order to breathe better country air Yanko
was taken from Bucharest to the country place of his
family. But there the family mansion was barely
completed, and the invalid was not allowed to live
in the house, which was still damp. Therefore, for
the first weeks, we went to the " farmer's " house.

What that meant can only be imagined by those
who know these hovels. To European civilised con-
ceptions it defies all description. Mice and rats
lived in complete harmony with us ; at night they
ate up our bedroom tallow candles. My love of
animals stood me then in good stead. I did not
quail at the sight of these creatures. In spite of
this, my courage failed when, as soon as we went to
bed, odorous bugs fell on our heads from the rotten
beams above us, and made any idea of slumber an
illusion. Added to this was a real Rumanian
peculiarity. All round the farmer's house, which
could only be reached by a narrow gravel path,
immense herds of swine lived, wallowed, and
flourished. By day they roamed the vast oak
forests, and at night the most sagacious ones pre-
ferred camping round about the house. Grunting and
grumbling arose throughout the evening and night !

All these native delights were the despair of poor
sick Yanko. He felt humiliated and unhappy that
he had brought me — the spoilt European child — into
these Asiatic wilds. He sat half the night through
upon his bed, and wept in dire depression. It was I

183

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

who had to console him, and call up my once-vaunted
good spirits to our help. One thing he realised.
What could these mere outward worries matter in
comparison with the soul torments we had already
gone through ?

Often when I saw his courage giving way, and he
complained of these things (chiefly of the pigs rubbing
themselves against every corner of the house), I found
my good-humour once more, and consoled him, saying
jokingly, "Can't you hear? That is a great fat
beauty — as our farmer says, a ' Sow-father.' He
makes the whole house tremble ; he is worth his
weight in ducats, and will help us get to Egypt and
get you quite cured ! " Then he smiled beneath his
tears, but suffered nevertheless under these Asiatic
conditions. In all this dirt we were surrounded by
quantities of servants. When we were able to go
into the family house, I counted thirty-six of them,
all helping each other to do nothing for our comfort
Men cooks — a different one for every kind of dish ;
women cooks for sweet dishes and milk puddings ;
servants for cleaning silver ; lamp cleaners ; kitchen-
maids and under menial men servants and chamber-
maids for every one of us ; a coachman for me — a
handsome gipsy, by the way — a servant for Yanko
and his parents ; stable men and boys — in short, an
innumerable herd.

Before our wedding, Yanko 's sister arrived with
her husband, and then there were more servants still.

The stable was just as luxurious, and it was a
common occurrence to drive out with four, six,
eight, or even twelve horses, driven sometimes
tandem, with gipsy outriders in bright dresses. It
was really gorgeous.

The above-mentioned brother-in-law was a rough,
brutal sort of man, for whom I felt the deepest
antipathy. Let me relate here one little story about
him, which will serve to illustrate the country and
its customs.

184

MARRIAGE WITH YANKO

On the last evening but one before our wedding,
this nobleman had thrashed our priest in such a
manner (they had quarrelled about the hay harvest)
that only the interference of Yanko, with the warning
that the " pope " would not be able to wed us if he
were thrashed too much, made an end of the scandalous
affair.

If my heart had not been so heavy from the
sorrows I had just passed through, I think I could
not have borne the thought of spending my life in
such surroundings. But this heart was — excepting
for Yanko and his illness — indifferent to everything.

My father was delighted with the fine hunting
(he even found wolves to kill), and my mother no
doubt found the surroundings here very similar to
those she had intended for me at the time with the
old Colonel in Sardinia. Our wedding-day approached.
Everything glittered in festal array. The peasants
were in their finest furs, even the women ; for
although it was a very hot day in June, none of
them who wished to be admired appeared without
a fur, with the hair half hidden by embroidered veils
richly ornamented with ducats. Many of the girls
wore the whole of their bridal treasure on their heads.
The embroidered shirts that hung down to the calves
were held behind by a piece of stuff like an apron
richly interwoven.

The " pope " who had been thrashed was also in
full dress, and awaited us at the church door. It
was a picture of vivid colour in the burning sunshine.

I saw nothing but my poor Yanko looking so
pale and so ill, and my heart was anything but joyful.
I had pictured my marriage very differently, and
with another bridegroom. I felt nothing but com-
passion for the young heart beside me, and pity for
myself that I was here ; yet I realised that this heart
alone was my place of refuge in this merciless world.

During the long wedding ceremonial of the Greek
rites within the little church, the sky without grew

185

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

dark, heavy thunderclouds crept up, and flash upon
flash of lightning followed.

Suddenly a tremendous clap of thunder ! We
all stood terrified ; the lightning struck a tree just
outside the church — one of three standing together
— and split it through the centre.

A murmur arose, in and around the church :
" A bad omen ! The poor young wife I " Voices
grew loud, for the tree was Yanko's life-tree. His
father, at the birth of his three children, had planted
on the hill by the church a young tree for each of
them. They all had flourished — but now the one
most recently planted lay felled to the ground.

This curious circumstance was made light of by
our relations, who tried to banish it from our memory,
but the omen was fulfilled.

I do not wish to tell much about this short, sad
married life, which on my side was merely the nursing
of an invalid. Could I describe the slow death of a
consumptive patient who was happy at last in the
possession of the woman he loved ?

We passed a few weeks in the fashionable and
luxurious Rumanian bathing-place, Mehadia, where
we were fgted and admired, because he was so dark
and I so fair. It was here that I discovered that that
which I had learned in Nice of the customs of the
international world was child's play compared to
the laxity of morals that prevailed in Rumanian
society. Here every woman lived with some one
else's husband, and every man with another's wife.
They did it quite openly, and one got quite be-
wildered at the chronique scandaleuse of this elegant
bathing-place. Then we went to all sorts of health
resorts, seeking alleviation for the coughing fits of
my poor sufferer. Among other places we went to
the Kochellak in the Bavarian mountains, where we
met several interesting and clever people. There
were professors and musicians with their pretty and
amusing wives, many of them Dessauer families and

186

ALONE WITH STRANGERS

landowners in the place. We met frequently, and I
read aloud to some of them, played and sang. When
Yanko could not join us, I preferred remaining with
him, for I had determined to devote myself absolutely
to him — and this I did. Once they all begged me
to take part in a rowing expedition, and as Yanko
added his persuasions I allowed myself to accept. 1
went with them to the end of the garden where the
boats lay, but when they got in, I felt I could not join
them, and flew, rather than walked, back to the house.

On the stairs I heard Yanko playing the piano
softly, and when I stood before him so unexpectedly
I shall never forget his glad look of gratitude. How
the glorious dark eyes lit up !

I see him still before me. This little moment has
often consoled me in later life, and made me glad
that I am as I am — in spite of all that others may
think of me. Let us recall here another little
incident which will show the impression we two
young people made. We had gone to Meran, where
Yanko's mother with her household was passing the
autumn. I had therefore given a holiday to my
faithful Thdrese, and Yanko to his valet — letting
them go home for a short time before we went south.

Hardly had we been there a few days when the
mother - in - law was called away suddenly by her
husband, and travelled bag and baggage to Paris,
leaving us two quite alone. Compared with the
old Racowitzas, my parents were people of heart and
sentiment ! We telegraphed at once to our servants ;
nevertheless we were a few days by ourselves, and
at the mercy of a strange woman. The doctor had
forbidden Yanko to eat hotel food ; he was to have
simple but nourishing fare. I declared with pride
that I could prepare a simple meal, and the result
was as follows. The woman made a fire, and got
together the necessary things. My wardrobe was very
elegant, but by no means adapted to cooking operations.
So for this memorable occasion I wore a white lace

187

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

nigligi) and boldly took up my duties as chef. We
agreed on the following menu 1 Bouillon, beefsteak
with baked potatoes, salad, and an omelette souffl^e.

My knowledge of cooking was based chiefly on
Liebig's Cookery Book. The bouillon was splendid !
Meat was cut into little pieces, and laid in cold water
with the necessary herbs and salt, then left to cook
for hours until a strong tasty broth developed itself,
to which dries was added. The beefsteak also was
quite good. Yanko peeled the potatoes, sitting
outside the kitchen window on the ledge which runs
round every Tyrolese house. He knew how to beat
up the eggs for the omelette, and, laughing like
children, our self-cooked meal went off very well.
Meran and Botzen fruits ended the feast, and my dear
good invalid declared he had never tasted anything
so excellent. I had hardly put him to bed for his
afternoon sleep when the woman appeared and
announced, " The old Countess F. is here — the lady
who lives below us."

I did not know her, but asked her to come in.
She, a dear aristocratic-looking old lady, came towards
me with outstretched hands and exclaimed, " Please
do not be angry with me, dear young princess, my
husband sends me ! We both watched you to-day
at your cooking, and he said it looked so sweet, so
charming — but whether we would like to eat what
was cooked is another matter ! Therefore, we beg
you, until your servants arrive, to allow us to share
our dinner with you."

Amidst thanks, laughter, and joking, the amiable
offer was accepted, in spite of Yanko s praise of my
culinary knowledge, which I feared would not suffice
for a second menu ! Two days later our servants
came, and we soon left Meran to go to Egypt, where
we were sent by the doctors.

Here also our stay was not of long duration, for
Yanko did not like it at all — he coughed more than
ever, and I grew nervous at being so far away from

188

IN CORFU

all friends. We went to Corfu to pass the winter.
This was the most unfortunate thing to do, for
cholera was raging in various places, and in Corfu
a very strict quarantine was held. We had to stay-
twelve days on a rock in the sea, in a miserable
wooden building, which seemed more like a stable
than a human dwelling-place. The beds were of
planks, supported by stone blocks, and here I had
to remain with my invalid.

For a week we had most dreadful weather ; the
rain came through the planks which served as a roof.
In short, it was a state of things which must have
tried even the strongest. To my poor patient it
gave the finishing touch.

When at last we were released from quarantine,
we went to the hotel in Corfu. The doctor told me
that Yanko's illness had advanced from the chronic to
the acute stage. It was now only a matter of days.

One could perhaps imagine my despair if putting
oneself in my place. I was all alone in a country where
I did not know a soul, and the only one upon whom
I had built my hopes and trust was condemned to
death.

Sobbing bitterly, and not knowing what to do, I
walked up and down the banal hotel drawing-room,
while my invalid lay in the next room in a half-
delirious slumber. The doctor returned to tell me
we should do better to take the next ship to Italy,
for if Yanko were to die here in the hotel, I should
have to re-paper the whole £tage and buy new
carpets, etc., there being danger of infection ; and
after his death I would not be allowed to take the
corpse away with me. Thus he spoke of the living !

How was I, who had never lifted a finger for
myself — for whom everything had hitherto been done
by others — to arrange all this ? Withal, I was to
remember the warning that the sick man was to
know nothing of it all. This was an hour that
rivalled the bitterest of my life.

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Yanko called my name softly. I put on a
friendly smile and went to him.

"Beloved," he whispered hoarsely, "don't you
think this is a dreadful place ? "

I nodded and said immediately, "Yes, you are
right. Shall we go to Nice where we have friends,
and where we are nearer home ? "

" As soon as my money comes we will go," he
replied; "but this cannot be before the 15th of
November. We must wait on till then." It was
now the 7th.

The next minute he had forgotten what he had
said ; weakness overcame him ; he slumbered, and
despair again took possession of me. I stood at the
window in the deepest distress. Then there came a
soft tap at the door.

I called out, " Come in " ; and a tall, elderly
gentleman with white hair and beard stood before
me. He said compassionately, and in German, " You
poor, poor child." I did not know who he was, but
the tone and speech went straight to my heart. I
flew to his arms and wept bitterly. He let me weep
awhile, softly stroking my hair, then he said, " I am
the Prussian consul, von Fels. I heard of your
dreadful trouble, and my wife and I place ourselves
and our house completely at your disposal."

How was I to thank him ? how accept his offer ?
I can find no words even now to express my gratitude
to the noble man and his kind wife for all they did
for me then. No doubt both of them are dead long
ago. May their memory be blessed, even beyond the
grave !

They arranged everything for me. The consul
put the necessary money at my disposal, made all
inquiries regarding the journey, and returned after a
short time to tell me that in a few days an English
merchant- ship was to sail, and could take us to
Ancona.

Yanko looked upon all this as a direct message

190

DEATH OF YANKO

from above. He was too weak and ill to think much
about it. I told him that Herr von Fels was a
friend of my father, that was why he did everything
for us ; and he was satisfied.

The prospect of the journey gave him new
courage, and next day he was able to drive out in the
blossoming sunny country around Corfu, where the
naive Greek natives wondered at us, and expressed
their sympathy for the " beautiful red-blonde Northern
lady, with the dark young husband who looked so ill."

In a few days he was carried on board, and we
started for Italy on the most beautiful ship I had
ever seen. The captain — God bless him ! — looked
after Yanko like a mother during the crossing. He
carried him himself into the sunshine, cared for him
day and night ; and after arriving in Ancona, and
having helped my poor patient into the carriage,
escaped from my thanks so quickly, that I was never
able to tell him how deeply grateful I was for his
kindness. We reached Bologna and stayed at the
comfortable Hotel Brun. I was alone with Yanko,
and had allowed our servants to go out for an hour
to see the town, when he fainted away. With super-
human efforts I lifted him on to the bed, which
he left no more. On December 12 he fell quietly
asleep, leaving me alone and friendless in the world
after five months of wedded life. No, this is not
true ! Friends enough there were, and true friends
among them, but no one to lean on. The bridge
between me and the society life in which I was born
and bred was broken.

Dreadful things now happened. My father, in
spite of the calculating astuteness he had shown in
the Lassalle affair, had made no marriage contract for
me with the Racowitzas. They refused me all rights
of succession, and did not even give me back my
jewels and trousseau, which I had left in Wallachia.
My father merely said haughtily, "Let us take no
notice of this band of Rumanian swineherds. You

191

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

won't starve without them." He did not say how
I should escape starvation, nor did he do anything
later to prevent it. Cleverness in money matters
was never my strong point. I never understood how
to arrange my affairs advantageously, so I did not
trouble about such things then, as my whole heart
was steeped in misery.

Another dreadful moment occurred shortly after
Yanko's death. I will tell of it to show that this
was a time of sorrow and pain. After endless
trouble with the Italian Government I at last got
permission to take Yanko's remains, as he had
wished, to Nice with me. He wanted to be buried
there, because he said I should always return there.
When I communicated this last wish to his family,
then in Nice, they telegraphed back to me, Enterrez
oil vous voulez, mats pas id. I relate this as a mere
detail, to show what they were like. I took no
further notice of them. Taking the body, I travelled
at night in miserable slow trains, by short distances
at a time, as the superstitious upper classes in Italy
would not travel with a corpse.

In Geneva there were even greater difficulties.
The coffin had to remain at the station in an extra
carriage, whilst I went to find a ship. The night
before I was to get the body on board, a sudden
report flew about that the station was in flames.
This was the crowning-point of my troubles. I drove
madly through the streets towards the station, which
could only be reached in some hours. The good,
pious people had already moved the hearse to a safe
place, so my anguish of mind had been unnecessary.

In Nice, in a beautiful old churchyard, the poor
young heart, that had beaten and suffered only for
me, was laid to rest. I, however, had to live on in
the noisy, restless world — to live and struggle and
suffer — suffer as I do even to-day in my stormy old
age.

192

PART V

In Nice with Medora Ward — Nearly a Jesuit — In Paris —
Nearly at the Court of Napoleon III. — In Berlin —
Theatre studies — Nearly in Bismarck's service — The
stage is victorious — Siegwart Friedmann — New wedlock
— In Vienna — Divorce — Franz Lenbach — Hans Makart
— Franz Liszt — Heinrich Laube and his house.

193

CHAPTER XXVI

I was now free as a bird, at the mercy of the world,
and all possibilities and impossibilities.

I was free as a bird, without support in my family,
without deeper religious feeling, for the terrible
sorrow I had been through had shaken my faith in
God, and not replaced it by any other ideal view of
life. Germany was going through a period of the
crassest materialism, which offered me no substitute,
although at the time I was deep in the study of
natural sciences.

With this void within me, and the blunting of my
best feelings, with a nature that knew no check, and
reacted most powerfully to every impression of the
senses, I was like a ship on the sea of life, exposed to
all tempests, without a pilot.

Between Lassalle's and Yanko's death I had already
begun to learn how the world can treat a woman who
has been marked by fate.

From that time I learned to pay little attention
to the world's verdict, for it mostly judges without
knowledge of circumstances or regard to them.

At that time the pride arose in me that enables
one to hold one's head high, because one is justified in
respecting oneself, no matter how deeply one must
wade through the mire of contempt. Pride, courage,
and love of truth are necessary in such circumstances
to combat with the world and its prejudices.

Bitter tears flowed during my silent nights, but
in the day I dried my eyes, and put on a smiling

195

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

face, which those merciless ones mistook for callous-
ness and lightness ! From my own family I got no
love of any sort.

The day I buried my poor Yanko in Nice, my
parents, then living in Munich, gave a big party (this
I heard later from my old governess, who was still in
the house and educating the younger sisters). For
such a trivial detail it was not worth while putting
off so many people.

Just at first I stayed with my dearest friend — a
beautiful American — Mrs. Medora W. She and her
mother were now in Nice, and invited me to share
their hospitality.

It was an interesting house, and interesting people
visited it. Medora had an eventful life behind her.

Married very young to one of New York's richest
and fastest men, the poor thing had gone through
everything possible in the short time. Her husband
soon had not a penny ; he squandered all his money
on cards and women. He also drank. When misery
had reached its height, the wife's mother appeared,
and took her and her two little sons to Europe.
Here she lived with them until Medora's death.

This mother was one of the most remarkable
women I have ever known, and although nearly
seventy was still more beautiful than her two
daughters, who were both noted beauties. She was
a South American — her father had been the last
Spanish Governor of Louisiana, and her husband the
first American one.

When, on great occasions, she put on full dress,
one could hardly imagine anything more distinguished
or more elegant than this tall old lady, who moved
with royal grandezza. In daily life she went about
in torn or worn-out cotton dresses, and shoes down-
at-heel. She was hasty, hot-tempered, but always
witty and amusing, and full of interesting anecdotes.

Although she had been through so much trouble,
nevertheless Medora was one of the wittiest and most

196

MASQUERADE AT NICE

amiable of companions, and knew everybody in Nice
that had any pretensions to wit and elegance. We
read many biographies together, and thus had con-
tinually new topics of conversation. St. Simon's
works, in many volumes, and many others of the
same or a little later period, interested us most. We
declared at last that we knew the French Court
circles of that time better than the life which sur-
rounded us every day. At this season no celebrities
were in Nice, merely the usual residents, mostly of
good family, and more or less interesting. The
following incident is characteristic of the strange old
lady, and not without interest.

Among those present during the winter in Nice
was the beautiful Princess S., who later ended
miserably through gambling, etc. I admired her
immensely. She was a magnificently-built woman,
and had an absolutely innocent and childlike ex-
pression, with the complexion of a child of five, and
large tender eyes like a doe.

Not exactly childlike stories were told of her
love adventures, which were so far noteworthy that
she never allowed a lover more than once into her
" alcove," pretending afterwards that she did not know
him, if by chance they met. This habit has led as
yet to no particular consequences, as she chiefly chose
her lovers from quite a different class of society from
that of the grand monde to which she belonged.
But once it was otherwise, and this single case spoilt
her position once for all in Nice society. At the
time I speak of she was the queen of the winter,
very rich, with splendid dresses and regal jewels, and
her hospitality attracted all whom she wished to her
house. She had just sent out invitations for one of
her famous beds costumes. People said that this
time it was to be especially magnificent, and she
herself would change her costume three or four
times.

The Princess, who was flattered by the admiration

197

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

of a woman as much admired as I then was, begged
me to lay aside my mourning for the day of her ball,
and come to it, even if masked. All Nice talked of
nothing else but the ball at the Russian Princess's.

I could not deny that it would amuse me
immensely to watch it all, but I said, and this was
also Medora's opinion, that it was not feasible, or
compatible with my widow's weeds.

Medora's mother (Mrs. Grymes) thought other-
wise. Her Spanish blood could not resist a masked
ball any more than one did in the days of Don Juan.
She thought out a plan. Medora was to go quietly
to the ball alone at nine. We helped her dress, and
admired her costume of yellow and gold (she was to
represent Mexico). It showed her curious beauty to
great advantage, and she drove off, her mother
promising to follow her in domino at eleven and
watch the fete for a short time before returning home
with her.

Hardly had Medora departed, than the dear old
lady began, as we had planned, to make me unre-
cognisable.

" I understand how to do it ; I have done it
hundreds of times," she said. " The devil himself
would have to be very clever who would know you
when you are out of my hands." She touched up
not only my lashes and eyebrows with black, but
all round the eyes, part of the forehead and cheeks,
and a black wig hid my red hair. She then stuffed
me out (I was very slender then), and over all came a
loose, wide black domino, exactly like her own, with
a hood that fitted closely round the face. Then we
drove off together.

On entering the ball-room I at once noticed Prince
Carlo L. di F., my most ardent admirer, of whom
I shall speak later. He was leaning against a pillar
looking very bored. He seemed to notice the two
black dominoes directly, looked more closely, stooped
a moment to catch sight of our feet, then came

198

AN UNSUCCESSFUL MASK

unhesitatingly up to me. "Thank God you are
come, Madonna Elena, although it is terribly frivolous
of you to come to a ball while you are in deep
mourning ! "

I pretended not to understand him, but he quietly
took my arm, and said, " Don't you think I would
have known you at once in spite of all masks, and
among a thousand, by your walk, hand and foot?
Only one person possesses them ! "

My denial was of no avail. Soon the Princess
entered dressed as an old Russian Boyarde — literally
clothed in diamonds, rubies, pearls and emeralds.
She came towards me — guessed whom I might be, but
did not recognise me.

On the other hand, the old King Louis I. of
Bavaria, who had abdicated in 1848, came with the
gentlemen of his suite into the little boudoir I had
chosen as a refuge, being a little frightened at the
non-success of my disguise. He called out in his
loud, brusque manner :

"Ah, here she is — the Helenerl, frivolous bird!
to come to a ball in the deepest widow's weeds !
You wait ! "

I pretended not to know him, not to understand
German, but in vain.

I soon fled homewards.

Next midday, when I was resting on the sofa, the
door opened and the man-servant announced, "His
Majesty — the King of Bavaria 1 "

I jumped up ; he came with upraised forefinger
towards me threateningly :

" Child, I come to scold you ! Every one re-
cognised you, and I have nothing to do now but to
defend my little widow (as she is my own subject)
against the reproach of the most dreadful frivolity.
No denial is of any use now, I am perfectly certain it
was you."

I tried once more to deny — but vainly. Thus
ended my first and last masquerade. Masks to me

199

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

seem dreadful things, like all disguises and everything
untrue or simulated.

Yet a few words about the beautiful Princess
S. She appeared at this f§te in three costumes,
first as a blue flower, covered with sapphires, and
gleaming in the cold light of these lovely stones. She
was dressed in big blue silk flowers, out of which
peeped her charming little head. Then in the already
mentioned Boyarde costume, of old brocade and fur,
and at last as Rose Queen — her dress, hair and breast
strewn with roses in each of which gleamed, as dew-
drop, an enormous diamond.

On this evening she showed the world all her
splendid jewels which she lost later on in gambling.

The catastrophe which cost the feted beauty her
position in society happened as follows : One of the
lovers chosen for her solitary love -meeting was a
young engineer, who had really fallen in love with
her, and would not obey her command not to see her
again. He procured a ticket for a charity ball, of
which the Princess was patroness, and as she entered
the room on the arm of an old Baron W. (her
usual chaperon), the young man went up to her and
addressed her. She looked up in astonishment at
him, with her innocent eyes, and said icily, " Who is
that gentleman, I do not know him."

No one in society knew him either. The old
Baron looked angrily at the intruder, and had opened
his lips to utter some insulting remark, when the
young man said quite loudly and clearly, "Good
heavens, it is quite natural the princess does not
recognise me, for she only saw me in undress"

There was a dreadful scandal. The young
engineer left the ball at once, but the Princess felt her
diadem totter, and one saw her no more in Nice.

I remember with pleasure another little episode.
I had often heard the name of the Marquis du Pac,
yet did not trouble much about him, as I did not
know him.

200

THE MARQUIS DU PAC

One day Medora came to my room and exclaimed,
" Oh, do come to the drawing-room, the old Marquis
du Pac is there, he will amuse you I "

I went with her at once, and found a little old
gentleman with a brown, somewhat old-fashioned wig,
and corresponding costume, brown frock coat, vest
and trousers — a little brown man, whom I supposed, in
spite of his vivacity, to be about seventy years old.
We were soon in animated conversation. The old
gentleman related with wonderful dramatic power the
story of an elopement in his youth, wherein post-
chaises, postilions and disguised servants played a
part. Then he exclaimed, " Ah, you poor things, how
I pity you ! If either of you wanted to be run off
with to-day, why, the telegraph would be after you at
once, and with the railway all romance has gone to
the devil."

We laughed, and said he was right. He went on
to tell us all sorts of stories about the great Catherine
of Russia, Voltaire, and Frederick the Great of
Prussia, which were so vivid and full of colour that I
thought, "The old gentleman seems to know the
memoirs of his time almost by heart."

I said then, " Marquis, you speak of Catherine as
if you had known her."

" So I have," he replied. " How old do you think
I am, child ? "

" Well," I replied hesitatingly, " I fancied some-
where about seventy."

He laughed gleefully. " I am a hundred and two ;
a centenarian now kisses your hand ! One who has
known all these celebrities. From my twelfth year I
was a page to Catherine ; she sent me to Frederick the
Great, and at his Court I saw Voltaire ! "

Now I was really interested, and we chatted for a
long time. When he had left, I was quite excited,
and Medora told me a great deal about him, until a
man-servant appeared and handed me a splendid basket
of flowers, with a charming little poem entitled :

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

" L'Hiver au Printemps," written by the old Marquis
in madrigal style.

I was so pleased, but I am sorry to say the little
poem, like so many other things, has been lost. I
know not how much longer he lived, but the
following spring he fell ill, and all the world was
already mourning the death of their petted old
centenarian when, after a few weeks, he recovered,
and appeared again wandering round thejardin public.
Perhaps he is still alive ! Who knows ? Perhaps he
had obtained the elixir of life from Cagliostro's own
hand, but, as I said, I do not know !

Another famous personage played a great part in
my life, the clever Jesuit preacher, Pere L. Society
ladies had arranged a special chapel for him, which, in
its luxury, more resembled an elegant lady's boudoir
than a church of God. People crowded to hear him
preach, as his sermons were very convincing and
treated largely of society problems.

I remember the titles of some of them — " Ennui "
(boredom), "Flirting," and others, all addressed to the
mondaines, all witty and tolerant, and permitting
much, if not everything, provided faith in the Church
and dependence on the clergy were maintained.

I raved with the others about the interesting
priest and regularly attended his sermons. Mrs.
Grymes and Medora were, as South Americans, and
half Spaniards, very pious Catholics, and followed the
Jesuits in blind admiration. I heard from Medora's
own mouth that they reaped a great deal of benefit
from them.

I visited the little church with Medora, and once
I had to go there alone and listen to the pater's
sermon. I remained seated longer than usual, as I
kept apart from the crowd on account of my deep
mourning. The chapel had emptied itself when the
Monsignor stood next me. My face was buried in
my hands, for I was deep in my sad thoughts.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and his

202

IN THE CONFESSIONAL

beautifully trained voice, his chief instrument of con-
viction when preaching, said softly :

" May I disturb you, Princess ? You always look
so sad, I should be so glad to be able to help you in
this difficult time."

I was as touched as I was grateful. He took me
with him to his vestry, that was rather sombre, but
luxuriously arranged, befitting a cabinet of confession
for beautiful sinners who most certainly preferred
unburdening their consciences here, rather than in the
cold severe confessional. He spoke to me kindly,
almost like a loving father, and my heart opened out
towards him. I told him that which he certainly
must have known a long time before, all my sorrows
of the last years, and he consoled me in the gentlest
manner.

Then some one tapped at the door. The priest
said, "Come in," excusing himself at the same
moment for doing this.

A tall handsome young man stood before us,
remarkably like Lassalle, only darker, so that my
heart almost stood still.

The priest introduced him as Prince S. di F., "a
true son of the Church, and member of one of the
oldest and most religious families of Sicily."

I stood up to go, but the clever priest engaged us
both in such fascinating conversation, than an hour
slipped away and I said in astonishment, " The
luncheon hour at my friend's is long past. I must
go home at once."

The priest laughed. " Well, Princess ! anyhow
you will arrive there too late ! Be amiable and lunch
with me. My young prot£g£ here, Prince Carlo,
intended in any case to stay with me. Keep us both
company, will you ?" That was just what I liked —
an impromptu luncheon with the reverend father
and this animated, handsome Sicilian ! I stayed.

From that time, a peculiar friendship sprang up
between the priest and myself, and a yet more

203

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

peculiar one with Prince Carlo. The latter had
spoken to me at balls and soirees of the particular
lady of his choice, a beautiful Countess Mathilde C.
I teased him about her, whom I myself admired
immensely. She was quite a different type from me,
with her curly dark hair and Italian beauty, and I
presumed she was the Prince's taste.

Prince Carlo often came to see us.

I sat one day with Medora on our big balcony :
it was one of the heavenly Nice spring days in
February. Prince S. di F. was announced, and
hardly was he seated, when the beautiful Countess
Mathilde rushed in exclaiming, " So, here I am
again, without having been married ! You all know
that we, my sister and I, were taken on show to the
Lake of Como. It was most ridiculous. The Polish
Countess S., mamma's intime, had promised her to
marry at least one of us this season. She had the
Marchese di L. on hand, honi soit qui mal y pense!
Well. We all went off to Lake Como to the Countess
S.'s villa. We hardly had time to arrange ourselves
— my sister's blond locks were still in disorder, which
was more becoming to her than it would have been
to me — when the * Marchese ' arrived. We were
shown off! He looked at me, then at my sister,
then again at me, and again at her, saying finally,
6 La Biondina mi piace di piu ' (the fair one pleases me
most). This was his verdict! She was the bride,
and I am the forlorn one ! "

Mathilde laughed aloud, showing all her white
teeth. Prince Carlo turned and whispered to me as
we leaned on the balcony railing, " Heavens ! How
vulgar she is ! "

I looked at him in astonishment, but his burning
eyes rested on me, and with slightly trembling
voice he repeated smilingly, " La Biondina mi piace
di piu.

An exciting and strange time now began for me.
The fiery courtship of the hot-blooded Sicilian pursued

204

A FASCINATING PRINCE

me and surrounded me with a sultry, half-terrifying
atmosphere. But I imagined myself safe because of
my mourning and sorrow.

If this strange likeness to Lassalle had not existed
I should not have been touched in the least by his
passion, for in the rest of his personality there was
nothing very attractive, in spite of his flattering
amiability. Indeed, I was rather interested in a
young German doctor (to-day a famous anatomical
professor), who had bestowed care and help on my
poor Yanko in his last days.

But the strange likeness drew me more and more
towards the Prince. Yes, it fascinated me ! My
vanity also was flattered, for he was very spoilt in
society and now withdrew himself from balls and
festivals in order to devote himself to me and my
amusement.

But I reproached myself for allowing any one but
the dead to claim my thoughts.

Medora left Nice at this time to join one of her
sons in Marseilles. I remained alone with Mrs.
Grymes, otherwise, no doubt, I should have confided
in Medora, who was much older than I. Her mother
was just as odd in her ideas about the convenances
as anything else, sometimes going too far in what she
considered permissible, then again, over-rigorous in
things that seemed innocent enough. Therefore it
was no use confiding in her.

After a sleepless night, I resolved to tell all to
my respected Jesuit, and to obey him in everything.

When I went to him he sat writing at his table,
and looked up at me in the deepest astonishment,
saying slowly, " Does God send you to me, my dear,
dear daughter ? I have been occupying myself with
you most insistently for hours."

He took my hand, told me to sit beside him and
continued, " Poor child ! You are so young, so
unprotected, exposed to every temptation, yet so
beautiful and fascinating, besides being so sensual

205

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

and of such a tender disposition. What is to become
of it all ? Poor unhappy child ! "

The tears came into my eyes. Unhappy indeed,
that I was I But how did he know it all? It was
this very thing that I had come here to tell him, to
confess to him, and ask his advice.

For a time he was silent, then continued : " Yes,
my dear child, the world is dreadful. An unprotected
woman is exposed to calumny as a flower is to the
bees. And you cannot marry again at once, either.
I was thinking and wondering how we all can help
you — you whom we love so much" (who the "a//"
were I did not know).

I listened to him, hung on his words ! But now
he was silent. At last I came out with my question :
" What was I to do in regard to Prince Carlo ? "

He looked at me in astonishment. " What ? I
know that he loves you, 1 ' he said smiling, "but he
fears that you do not reciprocate his feelings, for
you repulse him so. Is he right, or dare I tell
him anything to console him ? "

"Ah, it is just that," I exclaimed; "I have a
certain feeling for him — no love, but — I have been a
widow for so short a time, I am afraid this is a sin ? "

What now followed was the quintessence of
Jesuitical morals that one could imagine. At that
time it seemed to me the highest worldly wisdom.

"Ah, child. It is just that what I mean. You
cannot go on like this ; the world would soon talk,
and that must be avoided. Everything is only so
dreadful because you stand quite alone in the world.
Your parents have behaved disgracefully to you.
There is no protection to be found there. If you
were but Catholic the case would be quite simple.
We would take you into our care, as we have done

in the case of your dear, beautiful friend, Mrs. W.

you know about it — then all would be easy. But
you have just contemplated a change in your religion
in wishing to become Greek Orthodox Catholic

206

JESUITICAL MORALS

The death of your poor husband occurred before its
consummation, so of course you will not care to go
over immediately to our Church. I understand this.
You care nothing, as you say, for the outward forms
of religion. The Protestant faith can mean nothing
to you, which is quite natural with such an artistic
nature as yours ; its very forms must repulse you.

He gave me no time to answer, but went on :
"Do you see, my daughter, a love-affair with Prince
Carlo would not matter. He is such a good, pious
son of our Church, and is especially under the pro-
tection of the Society of Jesus. No one could
consider it a sin on your part, I least of all, who hear
such dreadful things in the confessional. However
bad a sin may be, I have always heard a worse one.
The short duration of your widowhood does not
matter in the least ; you are not created to live in
abstinence, so a little sooner or later would be all
the same. The main thing is to avoid scandal.
Will you follow my advice implicitly ? "

" I came here for that."

" Well, go now, in two days we will talk it over
again."

I went, half glad to have shifted all responsibility
on such clever shoulders, half worried as to what
would happen later.

Next time, my adviser disclosed his plans still
further.

It would not be difficult for me to give up the
Protestant Church, and I could easily place myself
under the protection of the Society of Jesus. The
advantages that would accrue to me from this were
too immense to be even imagined by me.

First of all absolute protection against all evil
talk, for under the protection of such wise people,
much might be carried out that would otherwise be
impossible.

Erotic things were anyhow of no consequence.
One could be a very eminent person, yet remain a

207

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

slave to one's senses, provided no one else suffered
through it ; as in the case of adultery or rape, pardon
could easily be obtained. The chief thing was
absolute obedience to the advice given one by the
priests.

And to conclude, I had just seen during these
last weeks how necessary good advice was. I had
not hitherto belonged to his Church, nevertheless I
had turned to him because in the Protestant Church
there is no such medium for spiritual protection,
which is so necessary for weak, erring man.

" Another thing must be considered in your case,
my dear daughter," continued the priest. " You
told me about the folly your father committed
when he made no marriage contract for you, and as
the Racowitzas leave you absolutely without means,
you are entirely dependent on that which your own
family will allow you in the way of money."

Here he smiled kindly, and took my hand.
"Well, I have seen enough, my dear daughter, to
show me that you have very expensive tastes, and if
matters remain as they are, you will soon get into
great difficulties. Under our protection you need
fear nothing of all this. If you consider it advisable
to arrange your life in Paris, Vienna, or St. Peters-
burg (you could choose where you would prefer to
be) , then unlimited means would be at your disposal,
and you need deny yourself nothing in the way
of luxury, and could have everything that passed
through this pretty head of yours. . . . Now, adieu
for to-day. I am busy, but the day after to-morrow
I shall expect to see you about the same time."

Excited, delighted, and in the most exalted frame
of mind, I reached my room.

It was natural that from the very first the priest
had made absolute secrecy a condition of all we had
talked about.

Prince Carlo must that day have received more
favourable reports about his suit. Yet, strange to

208

JESUIT PROPOSALS

say, it was only now and then that I felt attracted
towards him — at other times he repulsed me.

On the third day, when I again went to P6re L.,
I had almost made up my mind to say '* yes " to his
proposals.

Directly we met, he said impressively, " To-day
we must arrive at a decision. Easter is approaching,
and I must go to Rome to the Holy Father. Such
a splendid opportunity for you will never occur again.
I have already written to my friend, the abbess of
one of the most elegant cloisters of Rome, to ask if
you can at once be accepted there for retreat. You
could travel at the end of this week, couldn't you ? "

I nodded affirmatively.

Smiling once more, he said, " Prince Carlo must
do penance at Easter, and when you come out of
your retreat you will see him again."

I was obliged to laugh at this mixture of church
and very worldly wisdom. My lightness of heart
amused him, and, laughing also, he said, " See, we
will arrange it like this. Everything can be managed
if it is only cleverly and wisely done. Now, however,
we must work. At Easter you must make your
confession of faith to the holy fathers. This will be,
at the same time, a revenge on your own father, who
so brutally destroyed your life's happiness."

I hesitated for the first time since I had entered
into the compact with the clever priest. If this last
sentence had remained unuttered, who knows how
my whole life would have been formed by him ?

I gave no definite promise. Once more he
painted to me all the glorious possibilities of my
future, then I departed.

Henceforth we were to meet daily for serious
religious instruction ; but I returned home pensive,
reflective, and disturbed, deep in doubt.

My love for my father had certainly been killed
by his behaviour in the Lassalle affair ; but to take
revenge on him — I was not capable of this ! This

209 p

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

one expression awakened in me all kinds of things
that must be silent, if I had to serve the aims of the
Jesuit.

In internal conflict, I drove to the churchyard to
my Yanko's grave. There I saw clearly before me
all I ought to do. It called aloud within me,
' Away, away — far from temptation ! "

Certainly the idea of the promised wealth attracted
me, and the prospective power and social position.
But I felt the temptation more as a tiresome burden
which my whole freedom-loving nature could not
bear, and must shake off. On the way homeward I
telegraphed to a friend in Paris, asking her to send
me a wire summoning me to her at once.

A few hours later, when I had this in hand, I told
Ther^se to pack my trunk, bade farewell to Mrs.
Grymes, thanking her for her kindness, and took the
first express train to Paris, fleeing thus from the
Jesuit's promises, yet inwardly trembling lest their
ban and curse should reach me there.

Thus I arrived in Paris. There, as well as the
friend of my youth already mentioned, I had another
at Napoleon's Court — the Due de Piennes, who
occupied a high position in the service of the Empress
Eugenie.

I wished to place myself under his especial pro-
tection. I could not find out the Duke's private
address from my friend, Baroness Lucy K., and knew
of no other means of getting it, except going direct
to the Tuileries.

It was rather a mad idea, but it was successful.
I inquired the way to the Empress's apartments from
one sentinel to another. When I reached them,
several chamberlains looked astonished, but admiring,
and gave me the news that the Duke had gone out
driving with the Empress, but I could write him a
note, which one of them would be sure to give him.
When I had mentioned my name, they expressed the
hope that at the end of my mourning I would allow

210

CARPEAUX

myself to be introduced at Court, that in the Due
de Piennes I had juit the right friend for all this,
and that, therefore, they might all hope to see me
again.

That very afternoon the Duke, who was an intimate
friend of my parents, drove to see me, and at once
expressed to me the warmest sympathy. He
suggested introducing me to the Empress, and
said that later he would make me a big position at
Court. Then I told him the affair with my Jesuit,
and a long, serious face was the result. The Duke,
after various considerations, came to the conclusion
that I was to remain hidden, so to say, in Paris for
some weeks, and he would give the Emperor a hint
that he, in case of need, could protect me against
any act of vengeance on their part, but that absolutely
nothing could be done with the Empress, who was a
blind adherent of the Jesuits. The only really safe
thing for me to do was to go to Berlin, and to place
myself under the immediate protection of Bismarck.

Now I was really a little terrified, especially as
De Piennes made me promise never to drive out
without him. He always fetched me in a closed
carriage, and looked after me most anxiously.
Although I shortened my stay in Paris in conse-
quence of this, I had nevertheless some very interest-
ing times there.

Through the Duke, I learned to know the famous
sculptor Carpeaux, and he at once begged to be
allowed to model my bust. I sat for him for this,
and thus had a glimpse of the most original artist life
I had ever seen. (I may mention here that later on
he used this model for his famous " Genius of
Dancing " in the big group on the Paris Opera
House ; later on, it was ruined by zealots with ink,
but now it is cleaned, and gleams there in pristine
whiteness.)

Carpeaux, as I said, was very original. A little
ugly man, almost deformed, with a wild head and

211

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

beard, he lived in his hideous atelier, and in a little
room beneath it, in dreadful dirt and disorder.
Withal, he loved luxury, beauty, and prosperity, and
was enchanted with all the evidences of these when
he visited me or the Duke.

When I asked him why he lived like this, in
spite of his big income and fine tastes, he shrugged
his shoulders and exclaimed, " Well, how could
I manage otherwise ? There are always many
colleagues who are in need of money. There isn't
enough for everything."

De Piennes once had a passing fancy to marry me
to the great artist, but when I invited him to come
and inspect the sleeping, living, and dining apartments
of our honoured master, and the state of his combs,
brushes, and washstand, it was sufficient to make him
give up the idea once for all. Later on, Master
Carpeaux married a very aristocratic lady, and eventu-
ally led a sensible existence — even a luxurious life.

Even now this atelier soon looked very different,
for the famous painter Henner had asked me to sit
for my picture, also Leroux, and several others whose
names I have forgotten.

I declared they could all paint me, if they did it
at Carpeaux's — while he modelled my bust.

They agreed to this, most of them wanting a
sketch merely for my colouring, chiefly that of my
hair, which I wore during the whole of my youth
arranged in Greek curls.

It was very funny. Carpeaux declared the
painters were much better off than he was, as they
could give my colouring — the most characteristic
thing about me, while old Henner wildly gesticulated
with his palette and brush, and declared, «* You don't
know what you are talking about, Carpeaux. Those
colours cannot possibly be reproduced in painting.
To my idea, a painter has no advantage in trying to
paint you, except that of seeing his own daubs and
acknowledging his inefficiency. But a sculptor!

212

CARPEAUX

Ah, if I were that, I would bring the Greek — or
is it Germanic — in short, Aryan race, to expression
in its perfection and form ! If you can't do it, then
you are — well, just a mechanic, and no artist by the
grace of God."

None of the pictures were really like me, and my
very witty friend, Baroness R., declared when she was
once admitted to see them, " The atelier looks like a
well-kept kitchen, with paintings of all sorts of copper
kettles, but not once the head of my Helene ! "

Carpeaux's bust alone found favour.

With him, the Duke, and the good but coarse old
Henner, I often visited the galleries, and of course by
preference the Louvre. Here among the greatest old
masters, and in company of my new ones, I laid the
foundation to my comprehension of art that later on
enabled me in America to work as art critic for the
great newspapers.

Therefore, I owe to this episode much that was
beautiful and instructive.

213

CHAPTER XXVII

As already stated, in spite of such pleasant hours, I
did not feel myself safe in Paris from the revenge of
the Jesuits, and preferred going to Berlin. Here I
did not remain long, but foolishly followed the request
of my mother, who wrote a long letter full of phrases
persuading me to return to my parents' roof — a plan
that ended most disastrously, and led to a breach with
the entire family that never was healed.

During my stay of several weeks in my parents'
house, two events occurred of interest to me. One
was my acquaintanceship that later ripened into friend-
ship with Franz von Lenbach. It arose from the fact
of his wishing to paint me for the Schack Museum.

It happened that Schack was a very intimate
friend of my father's, and had confided to my mother
that he felt very lonely in his big beautiful house.
She at once got it into her head to marry me to him.
We were often brought together. I thought him
awful. But as usual this was of no consequence.
The affair went on without my being considered.

The Count was a very amiable, highly educated
man, critic, artist, poet, and collector, as all the world
knows by his literary works and his famous gallery in
Munich. In my eyes, he was old and ugly as Don
Quixote, stammering and often ridiculous, and it was
an absolute impossibility for me to contemplate him
as a husband.

He ordered my picture to be painted by Lenbach,
and I sat a few times for it. Then came the final

214

AN AMUSING EPISODE

catastrophe with my parents, which arose from the
fact that, for political reasons directed against my
father, the whole of the Lassalle affair was dished
up again. Fearing scenes, I preferred to leave the
parents' roof and Munich before they occurred, and
returned once more to Berlin — this time with the firm
resolution of going on the stage.

I had heard nothing more of the Jesuits. In
Germany there was no field for them and their
machinations.

For some time I devoted myself to my dramatic
studies, became friends with some of the most admired
and honoured artists, also with the General Intendant
von Hiilsen, who assisted me in every way in my first
efforts.

A funny episode is connected with those theatre
days. My friends suggested that I should appear at
supper at our witty friend's, Frau Grua, in various
wigs — successively blond, black, and white, in order to
judge how I looked without my own hair. I chose
first a lovely fair one, and looked a little faded in it,
but very young. At midnight my maid fetched me,
and I left the hospitable house earlier than the others,
as I was a little tired. It was a clear mild night, and
I preferred going on foot, as I did always in such fine
weather.

We had only gone a few steps, when a very
elegant young man emerged from a dark corner into
the light and said to me in broken English-German,
"Madam, I have waited in vain for you all the
evening. At last you have come ! "

I looked at him in amazement and a little terrified,
and stepping back said, " Sir, I must beg you to go.
I make no acquaintances in the street."

Then my maid came and explained.

* Directly Madam left this evening, this gentle-
man came with Baron W. and did not go away, but
said he was going to marry you, and so he waited till
you returned/'

215

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

This was too much for me, especially as the
stranger added, " Yes, yes 1"

Baron W. was a rather good friend of mine, whom
I considered a very sensible person, so I understood
the situation less and less.

" What is the meaning of all this nonsense ? " I
exclaimed in indignation, but my stranger continued
calmly, "Yes, yes! Baron W. is my brother-in-law.
I am Lord B. I saw a most beautiful coloured
picture of you in England, and I said to myself, *I
will marry this woman with the golden hair. I have
plenty of the other kind of gold to lay at her feet —
and ' "

Suddenly the comic side of the situation made
me burst out laughing ; I threw my head back and
said mockingly, "What do you mean? — I have fair
hair." He looked at my hair in the light of the gas-
lamp, hesitated, and said, "But you are Helene
Racowitza ? "

"Yes, certainly."

" Well, then, it does not matter ; I will marry you
all the same."

"But I won't marry you. You are a madman,"
was my indignant reply.

He did not let himself be disturbed in the least,
but told me he was very rich and could fulfil every
one of my wishes (he was handsome, too, with true
racial English beauty). I should have to decide
quickly, as he only had thirty-six hours' leave. He
was an officer in Her Majesty's Horse Guards.

"You can be what you like," I exclaimed, "but
leave me in peace. 1 want no madman, and I don't
mean to marry any one. I am going on the stage."

" Very well, if you like acting so much (we spoke
English), I will have a private theatre built for you,
and you can play before the best English society as
much as you like."

" No I I will not. I want you to leave me in
peace."

216

A PERSISTENT SUITOR

" 1 will marry you all the same," he declared,
much to my indignation.

We had reached my door, and he said, " To-
morrow at ten o'clock I shall be here again, for I have
very little time." I had the door shut in his face,
and scolded my maid for having let him in at all.
Nothing was to be done now. Next morning I drove
quite early to a friend, Baroness B., and said that I
would not be home all day. I heard later that Lord
B. came punctually at 10 o'clock, and, after liberally
bribing my servants, sat himself comfortably down at
home in order to study my tastes.

As my maid did not know where I had gone to,
he at least could not follow me.

But one cannot escape'one's fate ! At Baron B.'s
there was a young Englishman of good family en
pension, learning German. He was to dine at six at
the British Ambassador's, and we had all agreed to
meet later in a box at the Victoria Theatre.

After the first act, the box door opened, and there
entered Lord S. with my tormentor Lord B.

" This is fate," he exclaimed joyfully, when he saw
my puzzled face. " This is how it happened. Fred
here is a cousin of mine. We met at dinner at the
Embassy, and at dessert he took out the latest
photograph of you and showed it. Well, you can
imagine that I pumped him at once as to whether he
knew you, where you were, etc. Well ! here we
are, and I shall marry you ! "

Angry as I was, I was obliged to laugh at his
cool persistence. Lord S. explained to me that my
courtier was all he professed to be, and advised me to
consider the matter seriously. But I remained firm.

My " madman," as we all called him, raved more
than ever on seeing my red-gold hair, as he thought it
even more beautiful than he had imagined. He
continually worried me to say " yes," for now he had
only a few more hours. I answered nothing but,
"You are mad, and I won't marry a madman."

217

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Next morning Baron W. was announced, and he
asked me seriously why I would not accept his
brother-in-law.

" Surely you cannot take such nonsense seriously,"
I said ; " I am not a woman to be disposed of in this
forcible manner. I am the one to choose. Maybe I
am losing the best chance of my life, but I have
hitherto never allowed myself to be influenced by
material reasons. I feel nothing for your mad, obstinate
relation, and — I am going on the stage ; therefore
leave me in peace," Once more Lord B. tried to
persuade me, and then this episode was over.

Others soon followed. In the midst of my studies
there arrived a letter signed H. v. B. — Colonel on
the General Staff. It asked whether I would allow
the writer to visit me on important business.

At that time every post brought me quantities of
letters from men — each upon some different pretext
— wishing to make my acquaintance.

In all these epistles the reason was so palpable
that I laughed at them with my intimate friends,
among whom was an amiable young aunt of mine.

Therefore, in spite of the illustrious signature, I
was somewhat suspicious, and sought counsel with
one of my uncles — the husband of the little aunt
already mentioned. She thought I ought to hear
what this gentleman had to say, and so it was !

A very ugly, elderly man came, but he was
pleasant, witty, clever, well-mannered — indeed one of
the most interesting men I have ever met. Notwith-
standing his ugliness, he looked very imposing in his
full-dress uniform. He expressed his pleasure at
my permitting him to make his acquaintance, and
conversation turned upon all kinds of things, until at
last I asked :

" But, Colonel, what was it that you so particularly
wished to tell me ? "

He hesitated, became slightly confused, and
stammered out the following :

218

POLITICAL OVERTURES

"Yes, in fact I come for some one else, and
Bismarck thought I ought to try and find out whether
'La belle H£l&ne' is a good patriot."

I had to laugh, but as I had no idea what he
meant, I replied, " Oh, no ! I am much too cosmo-
politan, and really hardly know in what direction I
ought to be patriotic, whether towards Bavaria or
Turkey — for you must know that, as a Wallachian
widow, I am a Turkish subject. One might say of
me the same as of the * Madchen aus der Fremde '
— * one does not know whence she came.' "

"Well," replied Herr von B., "you are really
German. Could you not feel enthusiastic about
German politics ? "

" No doubt in a fugitive sort of way. But why ?
I intend becoming an artiste, and they need not trouble
themselves about politics and the interests of their
country."

"But if you render your fatherland great services?"

" Which fatherland ? Turkey ? "

" No, Germany, of course ! The fatherland of the
man whom you loved — of Lassalle."

" Certainly I should be pleased to, but how can I,
an ignorant woman ? "

" Not so ignorant as all that ; you are so clever
and witty."

"I? Clever? I? If I only were, I should not
have made such a mess of my life. No, certainly
I am not clever ! "

" Other causes led to this, chiefly because you are
without protection, almost without means, and
exposed to the world s criticism. If you but decided
to render your fatherland certain services, it would
put great means at your disposal — above all, power
and social position with great influence. Consider
whether you would not like this."

We had discussed this laughingly— almost jokingly,
but now I said, "Do you know, Baron, that only
a few months ago I received an almost identical

219

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

proposition from another source. Do you mean
simply that you wish to make me a political spy ? "

"How can you use such a horrid word? The
question is "

" Yes, yes — of services I am to render the father-
land. The German for this is * spy/ ox political agent,
just as the other would have been Jesuitical agent
My goodness, Colonel ! I do not exactly say ' no ' !
My life is so manquee that a little more or less can't
matter much ; but one thing I can tell you, and that
is, that I am not in any way fitted for such a thing."

"Why ? — with your beauty, your mind, the name
you bear ? "

"Yes! The name I bear! If it had not been
for my fanatical love of truth ; if I had not told my
mother everything when I returned that time from
the Rigi ; if I had only understood how to lie, or
even how to be silent, then perhaps to-day I should
be bearing the name of Lassalle, two noble creatures
would still be alive, and "

Tears were near and the old gentleman bent over
my hand and went away with the words, " I honour
you deeply for this glimpse of your soul. Permit me
to come again ; we can talk of all this later."

Baron von B.'s next visit was a more hearty and
friendly one. He tried to tempt me with his forecast
of a great political future. He left me the choice
between Petersburg and Paris. I had to laugh again.
He was offering me the same allurements as all the
others !

" Well ! " he continued, " let us suggest Paris,
with accounts at the best dressmakers, modistes — in
short, everything that can charm a woman's heart."

"But what if this woman's heart should be
enthralled most by Napoleon?" I replied. "You
know in his strange coldness he has already been
dangerous to many a pretty woman. In that case,
I should throw over your bald-headed Bismarck with

all his state arts and crafts — and "

220

BISMARCK'S CRITICISM

" Be quiet ! You make me shudder at the
thought," he exclaimed. " Come ! let us look at
the difficult task of deciphering. Surely that interests
you?"

"Yes, it does."

He had brought me several of the cipher systems
then in vogue. I studied them industriously, but
after a time the whole thing seemed so unsuited to
me, that I declared I had had enough of it all. We
could remain good friends, Colonel von B. and I, but
we would bury the idea of political spying.

When I had sworn this most solemnly, one day
Herr von B. brought me a large sheet of paper and
said, " Now, just guess what this is 1 "

" Of course," I answered teasingly, " my spy
diploma, drawn up by the hand of the great Bismarck
himself."

He laughed at this. "Not so very wrong," he
exclaimed. " It is the report that I sent in to
Bismarck of my impressions of you, you magician,
after our first meeting."

" Oh ! How nice ! I am so curious. Read, read ! "

"Not a bit of it! But you may read what
Bismarck wrote under it with his famous giant
pencil. By showing you this, I place myself and my
political reputation in your little hands."

"Well?"

Silently, smilingly, he passed me the paper.

I read in the powerful man's large handwriting
the following — that is to say, the sense, for I do not
exactly recall the words :

"Very good ! but it is the report of a Primaner
in love, not that of a serious officer of the general
staff.— Von B."

We both laughed heartily, and Herr von B. utilised
these "confidences" to become himself very "con-
fidential " during the time our friendship lasted. It
was only when he wished to overstep this, that I was
unfortunately compelled to break off relations with

221

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

my clever but ugly friend. With the best of in-
tentions, my keen sense of beauty did not allow me
to contemplate him as a lover.

But I shall always remember him with gratitude
and affection, for he was kind and self-sacrificing
to me.

In those days I visited the interesting houses of
Spielhagen, Auerbach, and J. Rodenberg, as indeed
did every one belonging to the literary circle of Berlin.
But so many others have described these, that I could
tell but little new of them.

It was a lively, interesting time for those who
stood in the midst of it all ; but the works and
doings of those whom we then admired as the
great ones are now looked upon so slightingly by the
"moderns" that it is hardly worth while talking
about them.

A glimpse of that time may perhaps be given by
reading a letter that I only received later, but one
which has kept the "perfume" of 1867-68.

It is from Wilhelmina v. Hillern, the well-known
authoress of And yet she comes, and other novels, and
is dated Oberammergau, 1894 :

I remember still with deep interest the soiree at Auerbach's
in the year '66 or '67, when I first knew you, though you did
not know me. At that time there was nothing about me that
could have attracted your attention — not even a name. But I
never could forget you. You were wearing a golden peacock
in your red-gold hair ; you looked altogether like molten gold,
a mingling of metal and ivory, and the flames from which you
were poured into the glorious mould played still around you,
breathing their glow upon your cheeks !

" That is Helene von Donniges," said Oppenheim softly to
me. "Ah," I said, and understood all. You then had no idea
how deeply your image was reflected in two silent, observing
eyes, and how firmly these held it ! Beauty is a parable in art,
but an event in life. One does not forget it.

W. v. Hillern.

This poetic letter shows how admiration could be

222

PAUL LINDAU

unmixed with envy in those days, and what an
aesthetic tone prevailed in the salons. During my
stay in Berlin I made the acquaintance, and later on
the faithful friendship, of Paul Lindau. It began in
the most amusing way. In the salon there appeared
monthly striking and amusing "Letters of a small
German Burgher." No one was able to discover who
was hidden behind this pseudonym. But I watched
with the same anticipation as did all those of any
literary interests for the regular appearance of this
sharply critical and splendidly satirical letter.

A great press fete drew near. It began by a
premiere of Spielhagen, and was to end with a big
supper.

I got to the theatre rather early and took my
place in the somewhat dark parquetloge of the Royal
Theatre. Two gentlemen entered the same box, and
seated themselves behind me. Before us the public
was streaming into the stalls.

A fusillade of jokes about the people coming
in came from one of my neighbours. I listened,
intensely amused, for some time, when suddenly one
of his remarks made me jump at the conclusion that
caused me to exclaim :

" You are the German Kleinstadter ! "

"And you are Helene von Donniges," was the
reply.

" Certainly, but what is your name, you witty
Kleinstadter ? "

"My friends call me Paul Lindau."

We chatted the whole evening, and later on, when
he had to return to Leipzig, where he lived, entered
into a most active correspondence. Finally this
developed into a friendship which lasts unchanged to
this very day.

My chief occupation was in preparing for the
stage. In the kindest way Herr von Hiilsen had
allowed me to attend all the rehearsals at the Royal
Theatre, as he thought, and rightly, that this was of

223

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

more use than any amount of dramatic instruction.
Although I studied hard in other ways, the rehearsals
were of the greatest interest to me.

Through them I got more closely acquainted with
all the stage celebrities, and among them with the
then quite young and most promising Siegwart
Friedmann. His personal appearance and delightful
acting soon captured my fancy. A sympathy grew
up between us which we tried to seal with — as we
then thought — our marriage in the year 1868. The
strange expression, "as we thought," has reference to
the following.

As a Hungarian, Siegwart Friedmann was an
Austrian subject. I, as a Rumanian, was under
Turkish suzerainty. In neither of these countries to
which we belonged did civil marriage exist, and yet
the Berlin registry office united us without publishing
our banns. They did not trouble further, and con-
sidered me as the daughter of the Bavarian Minister
and him a Prussian Court actor.

Thus we considered ourselves married de facto,
and lived for five years happily together. We
loved each other dearly, and are even to - day
the best of friends. I admired his frankness and
openness, and he took care of me so tenderly that
in the real sense of the word he "bore me upon
his hands."

Under his direction I made my first appearance
on the stage in Schwerin in the grand ducal Theatre
Royal. I played with him in Maria Stuart, he
being Burleigh, then in Countess Orsina, he being
Marinelli, and in many other plays. We went on
tour together and celebrated mutual triumphs, emu-
lating each other, rejoicing in each other, happy in
each other's successes.

This curious being, after leaving the stage for
eighteen years, felt impelled to return to it when
nearly seventy, and has still a great success. The
critics and public still praise his youthful appearance

224

DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE

and diction and his charming manner, and places him
still on the highest pinnacle of art.

From Schwerin we went to Berlin, then to Vienna,
where we spent two happy years under Heinrich
Laube's direction.

If to-day we were to ask each other, now that we
are old people and yet good friends, why we then
parted, I fancy that neither of us would find a
plausible reason. It was mere folly — like much in
life — that one day we resolved to part. Most likely
it was our fate.

We were not to find peace in this union, nor with
ourselves.

Now I recall the events of my life so clearly, I
view them as absolutely necessary to the eventful
" being " ; so that I only smile sadly at those far-away
days — but never in anger.

Now something peculiar happened. AVhen we
got to the lawyer's he said to us shortly that we
could not be divorced, as, according to the laws
of the countries we belonged to, we had never
been married ! We were petrified ! To make a
long story short, we tried in every conceivable way
to have our marriage legitimised, although we
wished to dissolve it, but all officials declared the
same thing to us : we had not been married. We
could consider ourselves fortunate that we had no
children, as they would have been illegitimate.

Anyhow, it did not matter. We should have no
bother about separating.

I had to take the name of my first husband,
Racowitza, and kept it henceforth as my stage name,
and use it to-day as my pseudonym.

We had no peace until we received from the
highest quarters the declaration that "Herr and
Frau Friedmann's marriage, having been solemnised
as such, was nevertheless in the circumstances to be
regarded as not having taken place, so no divorce
could be granted."

225 Q

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

We were quite merry over it, and at a luncheon
party with Lenbach and Hans Makart (of whom I
shall speak by and by) we celebrated our bond of
freedom that was transformed into a hearty friendship.
This, throughout the thirty-three years that have
since elapsed, has remained as staunch as ever.
Indeed, this now comprises the friendship of our
respective husband and wife, and I have hardly a
friend I care for more than for the clever, pleasant
wife of Siegwart Friedmann.

How true a friend he proved to my husband will
be shown in the course of the events I shall relate.

226

CHAPTER XXVIII

I must mention the fact that I was again alone, and,
beyond what I earned at the theatre, absolutely-
penniless.

I have not yet mentioned one of my peculiarities,
namely, my incapacity for seeking money or material
help from others. To illustrate this let me quote
the opinion of Siegmund Schlesinger, when my book,
My Relations to Ferdinand Lassalle, appeared.

What he wrote of me will illustrate this better
than I could describe.

He entitled his article, " It is I," because I once
wrote this dedication under a photograph I gave
him. Schlesinger wrote of this picture :

The fairylike gleam of the golden hair is wanting in the
monotony of the photographic tones, and without it we lose the
real characteristic of this fateful beauty. " You have made
enough noise in the world," a Berlin friend once said to her ;
" but you might have made three times as much and not been
so calumniated if, instead of this provoking colour, you had had
dark hair."

This golden gleam, as I said, does not show in the picture,
yet the photograph reveals the unaltered cast of its impress.
The proud forehead, the finely cut, delicate, aquiline nose, the
nervous, clever and energetic mouth, which is a shade farther
than need be from the nose, thus enhancing the expression of
sharp decision that bids defiance to the world, whilst the eye
combines both melancholy and tenderness.

The term " interesting," which has so often been misapplied,
should have been invented — if not already existing — to describe
this charming woman, whose stature is that of an Amazon of
the drawing-room (may this daring combination of words pass

227

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

the censor of good taste !). She is the embodiment of the
device—" It is I."

The pose of this proud figure with the fearless face seems
to cry out to the world, " I am my own world, and I make my
own laws." Thus it stands in the picture, with the arms close
to the sides as if in self-depreciation, the hands crossed and
suggesting modest, almost housewifely simplicity. Even this
too is characteristic, for the most bizarre contrasts are here in
the mingled qualities bestowed by good and bad fairies ; full
of the most enduring will-power, and the most inconsistent
weakness ; revolting iciness of heart, and childlike softness —
impulses that lead to the inevitable need of wealth, combined
with luxurious tastes ; and withal the total impossibility of
so-called " making money " or of making use of any one. I
myself know of a long conversation she once had with a well-
known millionaire, who was always ready for even quite platonic
monetary sacrifices for ladies of the theatre, and easily induced
to such. She had entered upon conversation with very keen
prospects of help, for at this time she was much tormented by
creditors ; but the interview ended without result, because she
had no talent for using the necessary hints as regarded money
matters. She carried inconsistency to a systematic perfection
in love, yet had a changeless consistency in friendship, a freedom
in conversation, easily developing to cynicism — knowing no
bounds, hesitating before no subj ect of discussion ; yet
supremely sensitive, and full of womanly tact and dignity.
In men's society she could be carried away to the extent of
telling stories at which the most masculine natures would be
horrified. But she told them all with a sort of Boccaccio-like
naivety not understanding that certain things could not be
discussed ; nor could she imagine that conversation should
hang fire from any prudish considerations. But if she saw that
some one, for the sake of piquancy or frivolity, purposely
directed the talk towards doubtful or lascivious subjects, the
opposition of femininity was raised within her, and she was
capable of breaking off the conversation shortly and sharply,
and of giving the badly "inspired" man to understand that
she wished to be free from his society.

Toward her own sex, she upheld womanly dignity in a
masterly way. With women she had the quiet firmness, the
noble absence of self, that characterises the sensible housewife
and the grande dame.

This was proved in my own house. I came home one day, and
my wife said to me, " Helene Friedmann has been here. She
tried to find you at the Editor's office, and as you had already

228

"IT IS I"

left, she came here and asked if she might speak to me. I
was almost afraid of this visit, for, after all, I had heard a great
deal about her, and imagined her to be eccentric and odd ;
but in my heart I have begged her pardon. I found her most
pleasant and natural, with charming manners, and quiet, practical
points of view. I chatted long and pleasantly with her on
housewifely topics."

This same woman told me, a few days later, that Makart had
begged her to sit to him as a bacchante ; that she really was
doing it, that the day before, in the midst of painting her, he
stopped short and turning to her, suddenly hurled this remark
at her, "But just tell me something of the real bacchantes in
ancient Greece, for you have sprung from there into our own
time."

The memory of Lassalle has remained the only real great
one, and at the same time (herein lies the tragic peculiarity of
her destiny) the saddest moment of her life. Apparently she
has long since got over it. She speaks with seemingly objective
quietness about it, but a sympathetic eye cannot be mistaken
in seeing that she revels in a sort of voluptuousness of suffering,
when she speaks of the evanescent delights of the Lassalle days.
They were two of the most wonderful hours of my life when she
first told me of this affair, in her little room on the third story
of the house in the Victoria Gasse, which was charmingly
arranged with a certain amount of imagination, yet without
eccentricity, and where for the time being she had pitched her
tent.

More than once, when thinking of these hours and of her
story, my hand has itched to grasp the pen and transcribe all
I had heard ; but I had no right to do this, nor to give lightly
to the world her most secret thoughts and feelings. Now she
has done it herself, and whoever delights in reading descriptions
of the perplexities, the curious inconsistencies and impulses of
the human soul, let him turn with interest and expectancy to
this tragedy of two singular beings, who were destroyed by the
attraction that drew one to the other.

The picture here is no ordinary portrait, and it cannot leave
one indifferent. The woman has written beneath it her own
designation of herself in the defiant yet inexpressibly melancholy
device : It is I. Siegmund Schlesinger.

In connection with these extracts, I should like
to make two remarks. Firstly, that I smile at the
mention of my iciness of heart This has assuredly
never been remarked by any one who lived in my

229

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

proximity, but rather the contrary — an extreme
tenderness of disposition. Men certainly have re-
proached me with it, when finding no response to
their so-called "love," even after years of wooing.
When I laughingly said, " I cannot love everybody,"
I generally received the reply, "But you ought to
love me, as I have loved you for so long, and have
proved my fidelity."

I must mention now a peculiarity of my nature
which is perhaps a little unfeminine. I was never
won, or moved in the least, by perseverance or per-
sistent proofs of love in another — hence perhaps the
" iciness of heart."

One of the " persevering ones " once took it into
his head to follow me wherever my numerous
theatrical tours called me. He crowned his follies
by flying one night into the express train between
Konigsberg and Posen, and appearing at the door of
my compartment. I was certainly astonished, but
he had to retire with a long face. In the morning
I gave him to understand seriously that these follies
must end. They would lead to nothing, and even if
he continued them for years, he could only provoke
annoyance in me, but never love. " Whom I love,"
I said finally, " has no need to behave so desperately.
He soon knows it, for I myself choose, and let
myself neither be chosen nor conquered."

He went away and talked of my iciness of heart !

In the second place I will touch upon Siegmund
Schlesinger's allusion to my chronic inability to keep
myself free from money troubles.

This peculiarity of mine caused me then, and
in later years, many difficult moments. Whoever
knows Vienna, or any other great city, and the need
of luxury, and the demands placed on the ladies of
the theatre, can well imagine that a young woman
admired as I was, and with a salary and royalty that
amounted at most to 12,000 gulden (about £1200) a
year, could not possibly manage to live on it.

230

"BEARING OF CONSEQUENCES"

Often when I was in pressing debt I was re-
proached for not having secured a certain income on
separating with Friedmann, especially as we parted
on friendly terms, and for no especial reason. But
I could not do this ; he did not offer it to me, so I
did not suggest it, and remained merely with my pay
and the little income allowed me by my uncle, my
tours being remunerated sometimes more and some-
times less.

I mention all this in detail, that my position at
the time may be understood, and I had many
desperate difficulties. I had friends enough, and
even more admirers, but helpers — not a single one.

As excuse for those not ready to help, be it said
that perhaps they did not know my real position.
I was too proud to speak, and they no doubt were
too indifferent to ask, in spite of all protestations to
the contrary. But my chief reason for dwelling
upon it is this : my enemies have said of me that
I was influenced by material advantages, and gave
my favours for value received.

The above is my answer.

I have often, and with full consciousness, acted in
defiance of the moral laws of the world ; but I have
always taken the consequences upon myself without
hesitation. It was a favourite device of my life :
" II faut avoir le courage de son opinion ! " — not only
indeed to have the courage of one's conviction, but
the courage to bear the consequences of one's
actions.

My conviction was, as I have often emphasised in
these memoirs — the equal rights in love of the free
woman with those of the man, provided no regard
need be taken for wife or child. This changes every-
thing in my eyes, as then there is a holier, higher
duty than the one towards one's self.

The "bearing of consequences" I carried so far,
that when by going on the stage I stepped out of
the society in which my birth and my first marriage

231

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

had placed me, I broke off all connections that bound
me to it.

I visited none of my former women friends of the
social world except those who proved to me that
they wished to continue to associate with me. Then
I welcomed them with all my heart.

Later in life, when my life again took a regular
course, many of these returned to me ; and they
prove their faithful friendship and liking to this day.

At that time I stood alone in the world, deserted
by all (the aunt I mentioned before, and of whom I
was so fond, died young— in 1870). No doubt none
of those who lived so happily and without care
realised what a helping hand would have meant to
me then. Fate had never cast them out of their
natural surroundings, and they could never under-
stand it.

A word, a warm hand-pressure at the right
moment, may alter — nay, perhaps even save — a
human soul !

But the hand was not proffered, and the word
remained unspoken !

Thus it seems to me comprehensible — now
when I stand high and free above all my doings of
those days — that a being with such a necessity for
love and tenderness, with such hunger for happiness,
with such a sunny, light heart, should become " that
heart-seeker" I was so often termed by my more
intimate friends. When they inquired about a cast-
off lover they asked, " Is he too not the right one ?
Are you still seeking ? Herzenssucherin ! "

Yes, I was looking for love, or, better still, for
that being to whom once and for all I could entirely
devote my love, and whom I could fully understand,
as he me ; but this I did not fine}. That blessed time
was still far away ; here the storm still raged, tossing
me from one hope to another ; always seeking yet
cm fond miserable, because unsatisfied.

I drove on through the world, where others of

232

LOVE OF TRUTH

tamer temperament and more easily satisfied would
have withdrawn to their corner in silent resignation.
But it was not my lot to enjoy secluded happiness ;
rather to fight with the elements, weather the storm,
but at last to reach the warmth, the light, the sun !
At present I stood in the midst of it all, in the fury
of the hurricane.

But to go back, as these memoirs demand —
courageously back to that wild time when certainly
the old Viking blood in me gained the upper hand.

Thus I must relate how I now exercised my love
of truth with a certain brutality. I told every man
who sought to find favour with me that probably
my love would not be of long duration, because
faithfulness did not lie in my nature, and he would
hardly prove to be the long-sought one, capable of
awakening this virtue within me ! I must, however,
add that I never met a man, young or old, foreigner
or German, who abandoned his suit on account of
this warning. I may go even farther and declare
that no man ever became my enemy in consequence
of this confession, so that I really believed that it
had been my privilege to know only great souls, who
knew how to love, because they understood and
respected the truth.

A reason for this may have been, that one gener-
ally finds in people that which one presupposes in
them. A man may show to various friends very
different sides of his character ; with the absolutely
sincere, he will be the same, because, it may be
unconsciously, he is ashamed to exhibit the want of
truth that predominates in him at other times.
Another man may show himself at times a sensualist,
yet where he knows that this will be regarded as
repulsive, he will, without hypocrisy, betray his
better self.

I think I drew out the best side of my friends'
characters by looking upon them as chosen beings ;
they hardly dared to disturb the illusion which was

233

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

so flattering to themselves. Thus they all remained
my friends in spite of, or maybe because of, my love
of truth, which I therefore have every reason to
bless.

A friend once testified to it in this way : " Vous
§tes le gentilhomme le plus loyal que j'ai rencontr£
de ma vie." (You are the most perfect gentleman I
have met in all my life.)

After all this explanation, which arose from a
certain necessity of the soul, let me return to my
days in Vienna, and to my many interesting experi-
ences there.

As already stated, Franz von Lenbach was there,
and was painting the Emperor and many notabilities
in society when I renewed the friendship with him
which had begun in Munich.

One day he said to me, " Makart wants to know
you, but the shy creature never pays a visit."

" Well, then, bring him one evening with you to
the Cafe Walch, where we all meet so often after the
theatre."

"Very well, to-morrow."

We "all" consisted of a most interesting group
of artists, musicians, and poets, among whom were
Adolf Sonnenthal, Hartmann, and my best friend
and former husband, Siegwart Friedmann. Among
the ladies were Auguste Baudius, Toni Hiller (the
clever daughter of the musical composer Ferdinand
Hiller), Charlotte Wolter and I. When our work
at the various theatres was over, we generally met
for supper in one of the hotels near by, and had tea
or coffee afterwards in the Cafe Walch. Our little
circle was most animated ; the latest poems were
discussed from the dramatic as well as the lyrical
side ; various interpretations of roles were talked
over, the newest pictures criticised — in short, all sorts
of people and things were discussed, and everybody
was interested in everything. On this particular
evening Lenbach came, accompanied by the famous

234

HANS MAKART

Hans Makart, a little man in a black velvet coat,
knickerbockers, high boots, and with a tremendous
mane of hair. He led him straight up to me, and
after a few gracious words on my part, which Makart
with his well-known taciturnity scarcely answered,
he asked me with his soft sympathetic voice, " Will
you sacrifice yourself, and let me paint you once ? "

"Of course, I shall be delighted," I replied.
" Any one would like to be painted by Hans
Makart."

"You didn't always say that," he said reproach-
fully.

" What do you mean ? Have you ever asked me
before?"

*' Certainly, in the winter of 1864-65, in Munich,
at night."

Suddenly a memory flashed through my brain,
and I exclaimed in astonishment, " Was it you —
that absolutely mad creature in the night ? "

" Yes, I was the madman ! At that time I was
an unknown young fellow with no name ; but I felt
— * if you could paint that head, you would become
famous at one stroke.' I knew I should be able to !
Yes, it is just eight years ago."

" No ! How extraordinary — that was you ? " I
repeated, and the picture of that night rose before
me : the Court Theatre in Munich where I sat in the
dress circle with my brother-in-law and Countess K.
Opposite us, down below, stood a dark young man,
whose gleaming eyes were fixed persistently on me.
I took notice of it. We then went to a restaurant to
sup ; the young man went too. He sat at a table
near us, and continued staring at me. At last this
began to annoy me ; my brother-in-law noticed it
also, and said, " I shall have to give this young
savage a lesson ! " But we only laughed and tried
to calm him. Soon after that we left.

At that time the streets of Munich were very
badly lighted, and I was walking home a little in

235

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

advance of the others, when suddenly the wild-
looking young man rushed towards me, exclaiming,
" Oh, Fraulein, I would like to paint you ! " I
screamed with fright. My brother-in-law rushed
forward, my sister-in-law and I went on quickly,
whilst the men remained behind in discussion. Then
Count K. came towards us laughing and said, " Oh,
it's nothing, only a mad painter. I've settled him."

This " mad, settled " painter was Hans Makart.

He was sitting next me now, and was anything
but "settled." We both of us laughed over the
reminiscence, and Makart continued: "Yes, I would
have given a great deal at that time to paint you,
but your brother-in-law immediately challenged me
to a duel. I ask you, do I look like a duellist?
I went away then with a very heavy heart, but never
mind, we will paint now instead."

We forthwith arranged a day when I could go to
his delightful atelier. I only made one condition,
which was, that nobody should know anything about
it until the picture was finished, because I was so
pestered by the Vienna artists for sittings. I often
told them jokingly, when I refused them, that if I
gave way to their requests, I should be wandering
from morning till night from studio to studio, with a
basket of provisions on my arm. But it was a
different thing with Makart.

A most interesting time now began for me, for
the silent Makart was not at all so silent when one
got him alone and on his favourite themes, paintings
and art. His instinct for colour was most remarkable.
I remember a discussion between him and several
other painters about the exact shade of colour in the
draperies of the Belle di Tizianp. They made several
sketches, and Makart said quietly, " No, it is not
exactly that — here are the right colours ! " and taking
a bit of canvas, he painted the precise shades in thick
strokes. They then went in a body and stood before
the beautiful copy of the Florentine original, and the

236

HANS MAKART

colours dashed in by Makart were so exact that
they could have been mistaken for the original ones.

He explained to me later, when we were alone,
" It is because I see colours with my soul."

At that time I sat to him for all sorts of
subjects, whatever he fancied — sometimes as a Greek
bacchante, sometimes as a figure in one of his big
pictures, sometimes as a Venetian Dogaressa ; in fact,
something new continually grew under his brush.
None of the pictures were really portraits of me, least
of all the one he intended as such. It became a sort
of rage with him to paint me. He designed the most
exquisite patterns for materials which he had caused
to be woven in Lyons, and the garments made out
of these formed the pretext for a new sitting.

One thing frequently happened in this little
intimate circle of ours — we were all very often short
of money, especially as we were all people with rather
luxurious tastes. Hans Makart, with his large,
warm heart, possessed in his famous atelier a small,
beautifully carved, old Italian cabinet. In this there
always lay some loose money — sometimes more,
sometimes less. It was the "comrades' money," as
Hans called it, and was common property. Who-
ever needed money went to this little cabinet,
peeped in, and if it were "high tide" he took what
he wanted. If, however, it were "low tide" he
turned with a long face towards the master, saying,
" Oh, dear me ! Nothing, or hardly anything ! "
Then Hans called out gaily: "Never mind, Helene
must be painted again ; the art dealers buy all my
Venetian ladies, and studies of heads, wet from the
easel ; so I'll paint to-morrow, and the day after we
will all float again."

Then every one laughed, the costume was talked
over, and I sat again for every one's benefit !

During one of the discussions on costumes, a
most comical thing occurred.

I must mention that Makart, when he arranged

237

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

his famous atelier with palms, and a hidden boudoir
surrounded with mirrors, made a second atelier next
his own for his closest friend, Franz Lenbach. Len-
bach was only separated from him, and in this case
from us too, by a partition. I was sitting for a
Venetian Dogaressa in a gorgeous costume. The
gown, which was in accordance with the style of the
period, was made of gold brocade with scarlet and
sea-green velvet. Above my long flowing hair, I
wore the little Dogaressa's cap and crown. Makart
was in ecstasy over his sketch, and painted silently
and industriously. Suddenly Lenbach threw the
door open and called out, "Hans, leave off! Liszt,
the Countess Donhoff, and a number of others are in
here with me, and are coming on to you."

"No, I won't! I have no time! I want to
work ! " called out Makart exasperatedly.

"You can't help it ; they are coming ! " and the
vivacious Lenbach rushed off. Master Hans stood
there like a real "Hans" (bumpkin), quite taken
aback, and not knowing what to do with me. It
would never do for me to run upstairs, because, as he
said angrily, they would be sure to go up there too,
and " sniff" at everything ! I found a way out of it.
The big atelier window came down to within two
yards of the floor ; beneath it there was a pitch-dark
niche, beautifully and luxuriously arranged, but so
hidden with palms and " Makart arrangements " that
no one suspected its existence, unless the pretty
Arabian lamp — which was now extinguished — was
burning. I made this place my refuge, as I should
have very much disliked to appear before these un-
known, yet well-known, people in this masquerade.

I was hardly in my hiding-place when the whole
party streamed into the atelier.

I was delighted to watch, unseen, the Abbd
Liszt ; he did not appear to be in a particularly good
temper. His faithful Countess Donhoff was very
lively, and as well as the other Hungarian and

238

FRANZ LISZT

Austrian beau-monde, peeped into every corner, and
at every canvas. Exclamations of admiration in
German, French, and Hungarian sounded extremely
near my niche, and I trembled lest I should be
discovered, yet Makart managed every time to
draw their attention to something else. At last,
marshalled by Lenbach, they disappeared, and I,
who had become terribly hot in my heavy garments
in that warm corner, stepped out into the full light
of the winter sun, which was streaming through the
high window.

At that moment Franz Liszt, who wished to say
something to Makart, turned round, and a cry of
admiration escaped his lips. Hans made the most
desperate efforts to hide me from Liszt by standing
between us, but the taller celebrity pushed the
shorter celebrity aside with a wave of the hand,
and approaching me with outstretched finger asked,
" Who is that ? Who ? "

I had to laugh ; and Hans and Lenbach, who was
standing in the doorway, called out, the former in a
rage and the latter in amusement, "Liszt, go! — Come!
— the Countess is waiting ! "

" Let her wait," he answered. " Who are you,
and why don't we know each other ? "

I now laughed heartily, and told him who I was.
"Ach so!" he said joyfully, "now I understand!
But why have we never met ? Two people such as
we are ought to know each other ! Lenbach, you
keep the Donhoff and the others with you — I will
follow later ! Makart, you want to paint this picture
here ? I can tell you beforehand it is impossible.
You will never be able to do it I Show me what you
have painted."

Makart did not want to do this, as he had hardly
begun it, but the Abb£ hunted out the canvas, looked
at the picture a long time, shook his head, then laid
it down and said to me, "No, that won't do. But —
have you ever heard me play ? "

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

" Yes ! Once at my parents' house, and yesterday
at the concert."

" Not at all, then ; for at that time you were too
young, and in the concerts I am merely a great
virtuoso, but not really myself I Well, Makart, to-
morrow evening I am coming here to you, and then
I will play — there on that piano, for this woman."

I was delighted, enchanted, although Master Hans
looked vexed. Lenbach was calling out in the door-
way, " Come, Liszt ! the Countess is impatient ! "

" I'm coming ! Good-bye — till to-morrow ! " — and
he went.

Mere words could never describe the magical
charm of that next evening. Charlotte Wolter,
Makart, Lenbach, Liszt, and I — no one else.

Hans Makart understood how to transform his
atelier into a veritable temple of colour, and very few
mortals have had the privilege of hearing Liszt play
in such an entourage.

We wept and laughed, rejoiced and sobbed, just
as the great master of music wished, and I, who sat
next to him, and was all enthusiasm, have never
passed an hour that thrilled my soul so powerfully,
and I shall never forget it ! It was an intoxicating
evening !

The great artist invited me, towards the end of
it, to visit him in Budapest. I did not do it. I did
not want the picture of that magical evening to be
effaced from my memory, as his home and life in
Hungary would certainly have effaced it. I never
saw him again.

240

CHAPTER XXIX

The most interesting house in Vienna at that time
was the Laubes'. Their famous coffee-parties, which
took place every day from five to seven, brought
together all the celebrities, intellectual and artistic,
who were then in the city on the shores of the
Danube.

Heinrich Laube and his clever, though unpre-
possessing, wife were, during these hours, the most
amiable of hosts. At other times they preferred
being alone. Between the hours just mentioned, one
could meet in their drawing-room every one who was
well known in art, literature, and science. There
was an absolute sans gene. After shaking hands
with the hosts, and receiving a cup of coffee, one
could enter into a discussion about theatres and
acting with the "doctor," as Heinrich Laube was
called generally, or one listened to the remarks of
Frau Iduna, or one amused oneself according to
one's fancy.

I always remained near the doctor, for the most
interesting people collected round him ; and when he
expressed his views in his own witty and original
way, one could always learn something from him,
and find food for reflection.

Once, when I was slowly toiling up the six flights
of stairs that led to the Laubes' dwelling, a tall and
dainty figure in a most charming white summer
toilette hurried past me, and ran upstairs quickly, as
if with winged feet.

241 R

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

I, who was then a little over twenty, sighed, and
thought, " Oh, youth, youth ! I am sure that is a
young girl — perhaps a debutante on the Vienna stage,
who has come to ask the doctor for advice and
help!"

When I reached the drawing-room, Frau Iduna
said to me, " Ah, that's right, let me introduce you
at once to a most interesting woman — Fanny Elsler."

" Is she alive ? Why, at the beginning of the

century 1 " She led me up to my young girl of

the staircase, who, in her white dress and hat,
dark curls and sylphlike figure, greeted me most
charmingly.

This ! Fanny Elsler ! The once famous dancer,
who is said to have been the only love of the poor
and short-lived king of Rome — the unfortunate son
of Napoleon I. ! It is said they initiated each other
in love's mysteries. She must be over seventy now,
and could it be possible that this dainty woman
sitting before me, the very incarnation of youth,
was she ?

She nodded graciously, and we were soon con-
versing in the most effusive way, for she had many
stories to tell about the time when she had danced
before various crowned heads and delighted them all.
She told me it was she and her sister (later on the
wife of a Prussian prince) who first conceived the
idea of transforming the hitherto senseless ballet
dancing into a kind of dramatic art with mimic
gesture. Her conversation was as charming as her
looks. A few evenings later I saw her at & premiere
in the Laube Theatre, in full dress, and covered with
the jewels she had received from royal and imperial
hands. Her still beautiful arms and shoulders were
bare, and I understood the love and admiration of
the king of Rome and so many others for her.

Heinrich Laube himself was most remarkable
when he appeared at our rehearsals in the capacity
of regisseur. His hideous exterior, gnome-like form,

242

HEINRICH LAUBE

and bulldog face, were made still more hideous by his
wonderful garments, which were cut according to his
own ideas, so that our men often asked wonderingly,
" Where on earth can the tailor live who makes such
things as that ? "

In winter he wore an enormous felt hat, and
wound a thick plaid shawl like a petticoat round
his stomach. However, in this costume he worked
wonders ! In this very dress he showed our leading
lady how to play Gretchen, and did it so magnificently
that we were all moved. He showed the hero how
to play Romeo, and although in everyday life his
voice was harsh and unpleasant, he did it in the most
melting tones and enticing manner. He even showed
me (the leading society lady) how to play some
distinguished salon role, and did it so well that I
often thought, "What a regal manner! What
fineness of perception ! If you could only act like
that ! " On those occasions he rose above himself,
and no doubt revelled in the idea of being a great
actor, and of realising all the ideal personalities of
the poet.

I best remember Laube as regisseur when we
were studying Lindau's new drama Maria and
Magdalena. I have already spoken of my friend-
ship with Paul Lindau. He took the greatest
interest in my "stage career," and watched over my
first theatrical efforts with loving care.

At that time he was a favourite dramatist, and
a new play by him was looked forward to with
impatient interest. It was a very good thing for me
that he had written the drama Maria and Magdalena
especially for me, and my d^but in Vienna. He sent
it to me act by act as he wrote it, introduced many
episodes out of my life into it, and made many
allusions to my personality.

A few weeks before the performance which, as I
have already stated, was my d^but at the Laube
Theatre, Paul Lindau arrived in Vienna ; and at its

243

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

first reading at rehearsal, the piece was received with
great applause. Laube once more proved himself a
helpful regisseur. At the end of the first act Lindau
had inserted one of Eichendorffs poems as a declama-
tion for Maria. Laube protested against this, and
suggested instead one of Goethe's poems, " Gedicht
an den Mond " (Verses to the Moon).

Lindau agreed to this, and I, as Maria, much
preferred the change. Both of us, poet and actress,
are indebted to practical old Laube for this. Things
did not always work so smoothly when discussions
arose between author and regisseur regarding the
staging. Laube disapproved of all modern decorative
art, and would really have preferred bare boards as
in Shakespeare's time, with inscriptions dotted about
such as, "This is a park," "This is a castle," and
so forth 1

Lindau insisted on proper drawing-room decora-
tions for his play, which was supposed to take place
at a Prince's Court. Laube was indignant at his
considering a carpet an absolute necessity. The old
man would have none of it, and the battle lasted
several days. At last I declared that I would not
expose my costly dresses to the dirt and dust of the
bare boards. He grumbled terribly, and declared
that the modern creatures wished to "gild refined
gold " ; nevertheless the carpet appeared.

As regards all the details and finer characteristics
of every individual role, Laube was as particular as
his well-known colleague Alexander Strakosch, so
the performance was an immense success, and all
connected with it regarded it as one of the most
triumphant evenings of the Laube Theatre.

What enthusiasm and striving for highest ideals !
What hope and joyful unity of purpose reigned
among us then ! I still love to think of it.

It was during this stay in Vienna that I first
learnt to know and appreciate the genius of Richard
Wagner, and became more nearly acquainted with

244

APPRECIATION OF WAGNERS WORK

The Ring, Tristan und Isolde, etc., through Materna
and Scaria, who sang to pianoforte accompaniment.

I was soon so infatuated with the texts of
Wagner's work that I often read them to my friends
when, as frequently occurred at small parties, I was
asked to read aloud — a talent which, above all others,
I may be allowed to call my own. There one or
another musician present played the musical accom-
paniment to it, and in this way we often passed the
most delightful evenings.

The Lohengrin problem moved me most of all.
When I heard it for the first time as a young girl,
I fainted with emotion in the theatre. It always
moves me in the same way, for I consider this
Lohengrin symbol in its inner meaning to be one of
the truest and most tragic in the literature of the
whole world.

The command, "Never ask, nor try to find out
whence I came, what my name is, or who I am,"
seems to me to contain the essence of the cruel secret
of the gulf that, notwithstanding love and possession,
always divides two human beings. For, if we were
to transgress the command, try to fathom the beloved
being whose inner self has remained more or less of a
problem to us, if we try to discover "his name and
whence he came," we are face to face with the terrible
revelation that knowledge means severance. We
should always discover something unexpected and
different from ourselves in the person we love, be it
a god who must withdraw himself the moment he is
disclosed, or be it a demon which had been mercifully
hidden from us, and before whom we must cover our
faces and behold through tears the wreck of our
happiness.

I enlarged on this idea more fully in an essay on
"Theosophy and Art," and have come to the con-
clusion that the longing for entire comprehension of
the other, for full possession and intermingling of
soul with the object of our love, can only be felt in

245

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

moments of the greatest erotic happiness and perfect
union, such as Richard Wagner describes so beauti-
fully in the death-scene of Tristan und Isolde.

Bodily union between human beings must always
contain the germ of longing to overstep the boundary
which divides one soul from another, because in that
moment man most nearly approaches God the creator.
For this reason the delights of physical union played
such a prominent part in ancient mysteries, which
were supposed to represent the highest capabilities of
the soul.

At this time it was Wagner who helped me most
to understand the obscure depths of human nature,
and my sojourn in Vienna was full of fascinating
impressions.

The monetary troubles I have already alluded to
compelled me to go on theatrical tours, as these were
more remunerative than a fixed engagement. In
doing this I followed the advice of friends, but I
found myself utterly unsuited to the life.

Delicate in health, and spoilt from childhood, I
was not happy for a single hour. This Bohemian
life, although combined with a certain elegance and
luxury, was too fatiguing ; for the constant travelling
and rehearsing — also acting at night — overtaxed my
strength. I remember a time when, after playing at
night, let us say either in Hamburg or Cologne, I had
to get up next morning at six, travel to Kiel or
Elberfeld by train, stand rehearsing until twelve or
one o'clock, and act again in the evening. This sort
of thing happened daily for weeks on end. I have
often heard strong healthy men say they could not
stand it.

It was a different thing when we remained for
any length of time in bigger towns, such as Berlin or
Dresden, when we could take things more comfort-
ably, and I could enjoy my successes in peace.

One fact in connection with my theatrical career
I ought to mention. I was often asked whether I

246

KINDNESS OF COLLEAGUES

did not suffer from the envy and intrigues of my col-
leagues. My answer was then as now, " No, never ! "

I had an exceptional position in Schwerin, because
Friedmann and I drew our salaries from the Grand
Duke's privy purse ; but I recall with the deepest
gratitude the extreme kindness all the ladies and
gentlemen of the company exhibited towards me —
who was only a beginner.

From the public also I received so many marks of
kindness that I remember those theatrical days with
emotion. I have lost the many proofs of this during
my travels, and can only quote the following letter.
The writer was a young and charming woman, and it
meant a great deal that a member of the highest
Mecklenburg nobility thus approached an actress.
After visiting me she wrote :

Dear Madam — The hours I spent with you are such a
pleasant remembrance that I deeply regret not having made
your acquaintance earlier. Now that you are on the point of
leaving us so soon, our first meeting proves to me how much I
shall lose by your departure. My only consolation lies in the
hope that we may meet and learn to know each other better at
some future time.

I now wish more than ever that I had a really good picture
of you. If, dear madam, you could spare me one of the
coloured ones we spoke of, I should be deeply grateful and
pleased if you will send it me. I enclose a portrait of myself,
in the hope that you will understand the warmth of my appre-
ciation, and not consider I am asking too much. Trusting that
you will think of me sometimes — I am, your sincere admirer,

E. von M.

P.& — My husband begs to be remembered to you !

Such proofs of sympathy helped me through
many heavy hours. As regards the kindness of my
colleagues, I had fresh evidence of this on the
occasion when we were invited by the Berlin Press
to give a performance in that city. I was to play
with Friedrich Haase and other celebrities of the
State Theatre in Diplomats of the Old School Just
before that evening, which was to be a most im-

247

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

portant one in my career, as I was appearing for the
first time before the critical public of Berlin, ill-luck
had it that I caught a severe cold. I woke up at
night to find I had lost my voice entirely. I sent for
a doctor and told him I must act that evening, and
must find my voice again. He said it was absolutely
impossible, and, on my insisting, he gave me such
strong remedies that I might have lost my voice for
ever. At noon I was already able to make myself
heard at rehearsal. Every one of my colleagues
proved their kindness in trying to help me. They
made tea, and all kinds of soothing drinks in their
dressing-rooms, and tried to console and encourage
me. The director, who had placed his enormous
Victoria Theatre that evening at the disposal of the
Press, said that the house was sold out, and would
have been if it had been three times the size. Places
were being sold at the Exchange for 100 marks, as
every one in Berlin wanted to see "The Racowitza."

"Therefore," he said, "pull yourself together,
because you will have to expose yourself to the
severe criticisms of friend and foe."

At this Friedmann said quietly, " She need have
no fear in this, or any other salon role/'

This gave me courage, but I trembled when I
thought of my voice.

" Shall we make mention of it ? " said the director.

"Certainly not," replied my dear friend Fritz
Haase ; " it will be so much better by the evening
that nobody will notice the hoarseness unless their
attention has been drawn to it."

And so it was. The evening arrived, and Hedwig
Niemann — Raabe herself — came to my room to assist
me to make up.

The great moment of my appearance arrived.
When I went on to the stage in a very beautiful
white gown, I was greeted by storms of applause
from my friends, mingled, however, with the hisses of
enemies. For a moment my heart misgave me, then

248

GREAT STAGE ARTISTS

I saw my comrades standing in the wings, nodding at
me as if they wished to help their child with kindly
thoughts. It then flashed through my mind : " The
public is right ; it wants to see what you are capable
of doing before it applauds." I began to speak, my
voice sounded full and clear, and I grew calmer.

The role, which is most sympathetic to me, begins
with a long speech. When I had finished it a volley
of cheers burst from the over-full house, it seemed as
if it would never end. I had won over my Berlin
public for all time. From that moment, whenever I
returned there, I was sure of the full favour of the
" Spree- Athenians," usually so cool and critical, and
nowhere did I play with greater pleasure than before
my Berliners, who understood every nuance of my
acting.

The same occurred in Vienna. I can only think
with gratitude of the kindness I invariably met
amongst my friends of this much - maligned pro-
fession.

There is not much of importance to relate in
connection with my theatrical career ; at most, a few
vivid recollections of some of the great artists of the
day.

My admiration was given principally to Ludwig
Dessoir, whom I considered one of the greatest
character players of that time. He was a member of
the Berlin State Theatre, and no one regretted his
early death, from softening of the brain, more than I
did. In many roles I deemed him greater than
Bogumil Davison, on account of his fine understand-
ing and brilliant rendering. Oh, if one could only
reproduce one of the impressions he transmitted from
the stage !

This would be impossible — quite impossible !

Bogumil Davison had perhaps greater incisiveness,
and was certainly wonderful with his Slavonic tempera-
ment and illuminating mind, but he hardly moved one
to the depths of one's being as Ludwig Dessoir did.

249

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Koberstein, a Dresden actor, thus described the
two great masters of dramatic art, Bogumil Davison
and the eternally young and handsome Emil Devrient.
Koberstein said : " The fairies went to Emil's cradle
and laid within it bodily beauty, fascinating voice, and
power over the hearts of women, whilst saying, ' Now
go and become a great actor ! ' "

" They also went to Bogumil's cradle, laid therein
the same gifts, and adding mind and passion to them,
said, 'Now go and become what you like, you will
be a great man always 1 ' "

The following opinion was expressed regarding
Davison's charming amiability (which Emil Devrient
also possessed). He had three qualities, one of which
usually suffices to make a man absolutely unbearable
— he was a Pole, a Jew, and an actor ! Yet he made
it possible with all three to become such a great,
eminent, and amiable being.

Siegwart Friedmann was Davison's only pupil,
and for many years had lived with him and his witty
and excellent wife whilst following his studies.
Through him I learnt to know them better, and not
only reverenced him as an artist, but appreciated both
of them in their delightful home in Dresden.

Every one mourned when he, like his formidable
rival Dessoir, succumbed to softening of the brain.

Whilst mentioning Davison's wife, who remained
my friend for many years, I should like to testify my
gratitude to many other women who, although not
great celebrities >in art or literature, stood by me as
friends in the best sense of the word, and who, if
death has not already claimed them, still brighten
the evening of my life by their faithful affection.

I had, and still have, the joy, which I reckon as
one of the best things in my life, of attracting and
retaining the deep and true friendship of women,
even more than that of men. Through all the storm
and stress of my varied existence I have never been
without the friendship of remarkable women of all

250

GREAT STAGE ARTISTS

grades of society. I keep this memory in the secret
chamber of my heart, and place it as the most
precious jewel in the crown of all my most beautiful
experiences ! I am very, very thankful that I have
had to suffer so little from the usual jealousy of
women, and from intrigue and dislike of my fellow-
artists.

I can complain as little of the weakness, infidelity,
and unreliability of men. I never learnt to know this
side of them, therefore could only be silent or defend
them when they were discussed in this capacity by
my women friends.

Several well-known names stand out in my mind.
For instance, Marie Seebach and her engaging little
rival, Hedwig Raabe (both wives of Albert Niemann),
Auguste Baudius-Wilbrandt, Marie Dambock-Strasz-
mann, Charlotte Wolter, Marie Geistinger, not for-
getting the charming little Gallmeyer.

Among men, I particularly remember Albert
Trager. We first met when touring in Berlin. A
few days sufficed to form a friendship, which even
to-day is one of the most valued ones in my life.
Unfortunately the poems he wrote me, as well as all
the criticisms of my theatre days, were lost in New
York ; but much-prized letters still speak to me of
that delightful time of good comradeship and interest-
ing correspondence.

I must also mention another fleeting but wonder-
fully pleasant acquaintanceship. I was acting in
Berlin, and staying at the Hotel de Rome. When I
was going to table d'hote, "old Muhling" (the well-
known and favourite hotel proprietor) came up to
me and said, "I have put you next to Wilhelmj. I
think you will both be interested to know each other."
And so it was.

When I first arrived in Dresden, I was told in the
Hotel Bellevue that some one had inquired several
times about my arrival. "A gentleman ?" 1 asked.

"No, not exactly a gentleman — a man," was the

251

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

answer ; and soon, to my great astonishment, a man,
looking like a superior workman, was ushered in.

He looked at me quietly for a short time, then
said, "Dear lady, there is a plot against you among
the working people here. They intend making a
great demonstration when you first appear. I wanted
to tell you this, and warn you, for I always took your
part, because I do not believe you acted as badly
against our Lassalle as many of us think. I always
say you were too young and weak, and could have
had no idea how it would end ; but people are dread-
fully against you, and won't listen to me. I thought
to myself, ' When she comes here I will go and see
her, and she shall tell me her point of view in the
matter, and we shall see if she acted wickedly or only
thoughtlessly.' Will you ? "

I was much touched by what this honest-looking,
good-natured man said. I gave him my hand,
thanked him, and told him all my sad story — how it
had driven me away from home and family ; how I
was alone in the world and obliged to earn my living.

The man listened to me attentively, then said,
" Yes, yes, my wife and I imagined something of the
sort. One only need look into your eyes to know
you are a good soul. I thank you for having spoken
to me as if I were a brother ; nothing will happen to
you now, you can depend upon me for this."

He then left. He must have been a man of great
influence in his party ; and this was not to be
wondered at, considering his broad intelligence and
relatively good education. It was as he had promised
me.

I cannot deny that when I first appeared as the
Marquise in a play called The Lion in Love, which
had many points in common with my own story, I
was somewhat nervous. The house was crammed,
and one look at the gallery showed me that it was
packed. At first, when the occupants of the better
seats greeted me with applause, not a sound came

252

PRESS OPPOSITION

from that quarter. It was only as the evening wore
on, and I gradually conquered the hearts of the
critical section, that they let themselves be carried
away by their impressions ; and in the end their
cheering was as hearty as that of the other
spectators.

Similar scenes occurred in Stettin and Breslau.
In those towns the Socialistic newspapers were
against me, and hostile placards were issued. In
Breslau the people were warned against my coming,
and told they ought not to allow the woman who
caused Lassalle's death to show herself in the town
of his birth, and where his ashes rested. Fear is a
thing I know nothing of, therefore I took no notice
of the prayers and warnings of my friends, and went
to both towns on tour.

In Stettin, the theatre where I was playing lay
rather far from my hotel.

When I went out after the performance, accom-
panied only by my maid, the carriage which usually
awaited me was not there. I had not changed my
dress (I had been playing again in Ponsard's Lion
in Love), and as it was a dark-green empire gown,
this was not necessary.

As I stepped out I noticed a large crowd of men
waiting at the exit. I say "men," as I saw at a
glance they were not gentlemen.

" Aha," I thought, " now it is coming ! " I looked
round and said to my maid, " I can't stand here in
the cold. Let us go on foot.'

Then one of the men came up to me and said
civilly, "It is very dark all round here, and you
might be annoyed on the way home. We all will
accompany you, and — have no fear — we will land you
there safely ! "

I knew by the tone of the speaker that he meant
well, thanked him, and accepted the escort of all of
them.

On the way he told me almost the same thing as

253

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

the man in Dresden had, that he and one or two
others had calmed the masses who were to-day
convinced that injustice had been done to me, and
that I was far more to be pitied than condemned.

Thus it was I found here, as so often in life, that
people were kinder and more comprehending than is
generally believed.

In Breslau nothing at all happened. I do not
know, and never could find out, who it was who had
interceded for me, and worked upon the minds of the
people there.

It was in Breslau that I had the pleasure of
making the acquaintance of the aged Holtei, the
poet, and author of the charming work Vagabonds.
The old man, who was then over eighty years of age,
was so bright and merry, and so absolutely clear in
his mind, that I was delighted with him, and did not
mind going the long journey to the institution in
which he lived in order to see him frequently. I
remember writing at the time to my friend Albert
Trager, telling him how much I liked old Holtei, and
how I wished that we also, if ever we became as old
as he, could be as gay and as fully in possession of all
our faculties.

Well ! friend Trager at least has reached his
seventieth year in the same happy conditions. I,
too, am not so very far off it, and am wondering how
it will be with me then. Qui vivra verra !

254

CHAPTER XXX

It was during this time of theatrical touring that an
event happened which, after a certain amount of
struggle, caused a complete change in my life, and,
slight as it seemed at the time, gave the stamp to
my whole future. 1 refer to my meeting with my
present husband, Serge von Schewitsch. My journeys
led me to Kissingen. At that time the theatre there
was managed by a very clever director, who had
asked me to give a few performances of my best
roles, namely those of salon parts.

A friend of mine was taking the waters there, so
the idea of visiting this charming Bavarian health
resort was doubly welcome.

My friend, a Russian, said to me one day that
two delightful compatriots of his had arrived, an
uncle and a nephew, Count Bliidow and Serge von
Schewitsch.

He wanted to arrange a little dinner at which I
was to make their acquaintance. This took place.

The old Count sat next to me on one side, and
my host on the other. We got on splendidly, and I
hardly noticed the young man who was my vis-a-vis^
so much so that, when my friend asked me next day,
" How did you like that clever young Schewitsch ?
has he cut me out altogether ? " I replied, " The old
man is charming, I hardly noticed the younger one."

He, when he was asked next day what impression
I had made on him, replied, " Is that the renowned
beauty ? I don't think her so beautiful ! " Never-

255

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

theless the woman whom Ferdinand Lassalle had
loved, interested him. It was therefore no coup de
foudre, no love at first sight, that was the means of
riveting our destinies together.

Although we often met in Kissingen, neither of
us was particularly interested in the other, and we
parted almost as strangers.

Two months later I was standing on the platform
of the station at Salzburg awaiting the arrival of
friends. I was a little early, and was idly watching
the trains which came from various quarters, when
out of one of them stepped an elegant young man,
who came up to me smiling.

At the first moment I scarcely remembered who
he was, but as soon as he uttered his greeting I was
struck anew by the timbre of his sympathetic voice, one
of his main charms, and I said to myself, " Oh yes !
The young man of Kissingen, Count Bliidow's
nephew ! " But of his own name I had not the
remotest idea.

He had to wait at Salzburg for his train. I, too,
had to wait, as my friends had not arrived, so we sat
at an empty table, and were soon deep in a serious con-
versation. I then understood what my Russian friend
had meant when he called the young man " clever."
I discovered he was a convinced Socialist, as much at
home in the writings of Lassalle and Carl Marx as he
was in the great literature of Germany, France,
Russia, England, and Italy. There was hardly any-
thing we did not discuss in those hours at the
Salzburg station, for I let my friends wait for me,
and my new and youthful friend allowed many trains
to pass without attempting to take advantage of
them. When at last the parting hour arrived he
said, " Well ! if ever you want to write your
memoirs, you call me, and dictate them to me. If I
am alive and not imprisoned for my political agitation,
I will come ! "

I nodded and laughed, and he continued his

256

i AN ARDENT SUITOR

journey. It only then occurred to me that I did not
even know his name. However, it mattered little, as
I had no intention of writing my memoirs yet a
while !

After this episode, which was so fateful to me, I
returned to Vienna. About this time there had been
much speculation as to the possibility of my re-
marrying, yet I was clever enough not to accept any
of the proposals that were made. I always remained
the best of friends with my lovers when they became
reasonable. As a rule they agreed with me when I
assured them I was not born to be a housewife. I
said, " What is the use of marrying, if, even in
advance, one depends on divorce ? One cannot make
a habit of such things ! "

I recall one case which concerned a good-natured
young man of excellent family, the facts of which I
once used as the subject for a novel. I will touch
upon the scene which formed the basis of my refusal.

I liked the youth, his personal appearance and
manners, very much. He had often assisted me in
my various charities among the poor (a trait of my
character which I have not spoken of hitherto, and
which I will again refer to later on). When my
means for these charitable practices ran short, he
often supplemented them, and I should have been
sorry to hurt his feelings on this account.

One day he returned to his ideefioce, as I called it,
and once again pressed me to marry him. I said,
"Just tell me, dear Count, how do you pass your
time ? For instance, when do you get up ? "

"About eleven or twelve o'clock."

"And then?" I asked.

" Well ! then I breakfast, that is to say, after I
have had my bath, been massaged, dressed, been
shaved by my man-servant."

" And after that ? "

" Well 1 one lounges about a bit, looks at the
newspapers, reads the sporting news, and so forth."

257 s

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

" And then ? "

" Then I go for a little walk in the Ringstrasse.
I generally meet somebody or other, and "

"Then, I suppose," I added impatiently, "you
have a little chat with somebody ? "

"Well — one doesn't exactly chat — one looks at
the ladies and the girls, then one goes home to change
for "

"For what?"

" To drive out visiting, or to ride in the Prater, or
go to the club — or dine at home or elsewhere."

"Does all this amuse you ?"

"Not exactly ; but I smoke or stand about."

" What do you do in the evenings, when you do
not come and see me act ? "

" I go to the club."

"Do you read much there?" I asked, amused at
his ridiculous answers.

"Read ! " replied the Count, as astonished as if I
had asked him if he danced on the tight-rope — "read
whatV

" Do you gamble ? "

" No, I never gamble. I promised my late father
I wouldn't, and so I don't."

" Then you talk of horses or dogs ? "

" No, they don't interest me. I am no hunter
and not much of a sportsman."

"Well, then, I suppose you talk of women, or
something of that sort ? " I asked.

"No ! no ! Phew ! Who would talk of women
at the club ? "

" Well ! what in the world do you do at the club ?

" 1 just sit there and look about."

I hardly contained myself any longer, but added,
however, "Don't you bore yourself to death with
such a life ? "

"It certainly isn't very amusing, and that is the
reason I want to marry you, because you are so
amusing and so clever."

258

LIFE IN VIENNA

"My dear friend," I exclaimed, half laughing, half
angrily, "that would be quite a false speculation, for
I should either go mad or become horribly dull, or
most probably I should run away from you in a few
weeks."

He looked quite disturbed, and said forlornly,
" Am I then such a miserable creature, in spite of my
blue blood and all my money ? "

"Not that exactly," I said. "You would make a
charming husband for a little Comtesse in your own
set, but not for Helene Racowitza — any more than I
should be the right wife for you. We can be good
friends, of course, but nothing more."

We remained the best of comrades until I left
Vienna. He died a few years later, either of con-
sumption or boredom, before he made any one happy
by marrying her. The rest of my aspiring friends
were less dull than he. Nevertheless, none of them
were suitable in my mind for marriage, and I was
glad I was never tempted to burden myself with the
responsibility of any of them.

Now I will quote one or two comic episodes in
connection with the characters I have alluded to.
As I said before, I was not always flush of money,
but I generally had enough to help those who were
worse off than I.

On sundry occasions I had helped a young Polish
actor who was playing the role of leading lover in the
Court Theatre at Warsaw, and who interested us all
in Vienna very much. He was trying to get over an
unhappy affair with a ballet dancer, which had driven
him to the verge of poisoning himself.

This fact and his fame as an actor gave him a sort
of nimbus that attracted us.

I had learned to know him better when we met in
a sanatorium near Vienna, where we both were sent
to recruit our nerves (he for the effects of his unhappy
love affair, I for the result of a severe illness).

I was extremely sorry for the poor fellow, who

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

was still in the throes of his passion, and asked all my
colleagues to take pity on him. He seemed to amuse
himself very well in Vienna, where I saw him now
and then after my return.

One day he came to me in great excitement. He
said he had just received a telegram from Warsaw
saying that his lady-love was dying ; he must return
there at once, but for the moment he had not the
necessary means. He needed a few hundred florins
to enable him to leave Vienna and reach Warsaw. In
any case, his leave would be over in a few days. In
short, could I lend him the money.

I had not got it at the time, but I was wearing
several costly rings, and at the moment he was
speaking to me I had on a most beautiful emerald in
" Duchesse " form, worth several thousand marks.

I drew this from my finger, gave it to the young
Pole and told him to pawn it, to take as much money
as he wanted, and to send me the balance with the
ticket by a friend he named.

He wept with joy, and hastened away with the
ring. I heard and saw nothing more either of the
ring, the man, or the friend.

I was chaffed unmercifully by my colleagues.
Every day for a long time, one or another said, " The
Racowitza has still a lot of beautiful jewellery ; they
also were summoned to a dying lover, and did not
see why she should have more compassion for the
unknown Pole than for her own respectable comrades
of the Vienna Theatre. If there were no more rings
to be had, they would be satisfied with brooches or
ear-rings ! "

I was chaffed still more about the following. I
had received a letter with the most noble signature.
An unhappy father implored me to give him an inter-
view. He had a daughter in Munich ; he could tell
me no more than this by letter ; I could do him an
enormous service, and save this daughter from a great
calamity, if I would only see him ! He dared not

260

LIFE IN VIENNA

come and see me personally, as he was married and in
a very prominent position. For these reasons he
could not expose himself to idle talk by visiting a lady
belonging to the stage ! He wanted me to take com-
passion on him and meet him at a certain place. As
I was always rather cautious with letters from un-
known persons, I showed it to my friends.

Some of them urged me to go, others warned me
against some treachery. However, the author had
thrown himself on my compassion, and as I did not
want to appear a coward, I went.

I found a very worthy looking old gentleman,
who, with tears in his eyes, thanked me for coming.

After some shilly-shallying, I asked in what way
I could be useful to him, as I knew only a very few
people in Munich now.

"And if it were only one person," he said, "as
long as this person were reliable ! "

He had a daughter by a former marriage (or
something equivalent, he added, smiling) who was a
thorn in the side of his present wife. She had now
married an artist, or musician, and consequently cut
herself entirely off from her father's circle. Lately,
after many years, he had learned from a friend who
was passing through Munich that his daughter was
in very bad circumstances, and he would like to find
out, through me, if this were so. In any case, he
wanted to send her some money. I was quite
touched, for the story had great similarity with my
own. The confidence the old gentleman placed in me
did me good, I promised everything, and we said
farewell. Next morning I received a letter asking
would I be good enough to send a ten-pound order
immediately to Barbara Malmeyer — poste restante,
Munich ! He could not go out himself to-day, but
he would return me the money personally on the
morrow at the same time and place as before. I
chanced to have the money, as it was pay day, and,
not wishing to disappoint the worthy old man, I sent

261

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

it He was not there next day, nor have I ever
heard of him since !

On making inquiries, I found that the man who
really bore the name signed by my old gentleman
was quite a different person, although they were
somewhat alike in personal appearance, and that I had
simply been taken in in rather a foolish way.

The old swindler had, without doubt, found out
something of my disposition, and counted, rightly, on
my not following the matter up. Neither did I.

Both the " worthy old gentleman " and the "genial
Pole" were for a long time equivalents for swindling
and cheating.

Apropos of cheating and swindling, I remember
an amusing story. During the summer I was travel-
ling for some time, then went to a bathing-place,
leaving my household in charge of a faithful Hun-
garian cook.

After my return, I made the acquaintance of a
young man who was a resident in the Theresianum
— the institution devoted entirely to sons of the
Viennese nobility.

The beautiful park of this educational institute
lay just opposite my dwelling, and the lovely view
was one of its principal attractions.

After he had been to see me several times, he
asked me one day, very mysteriously, if he might
bring his friend Count K. to see me. The Count
had been, until a little time ago, also a " Theresianer."

" Certainly, with pleasure 1 " I replied.

"But," stammered my still very shy friend, "you
know that in summer "

" What do you mean, ' in summer ' ? "

At first he would say nothing more than, "He
doesn't think so — and for this reason he told me to
ask you "

At this I grew half impatient, half curious, then
he came out with a strange story. He, my young
friend, had mentioned my name, and told Count K.

262

LIFE IN VIENNA

that he read French authors with me, and that I had
been the first to make him thoroughly understand
Shakespeare and the German classics. Count K.
had acquiesced smilingly when Baron de G. had
raved about my beauty and amiability, but as regards
the latter part of the story, his smile changed to
mockery when the cultivation of my mind was in
question, and he exclaimed, "Nonsense, nonsense!
The Racowitza is anything you like, but don't talk
about her education. Why, she is a Hungarian ;
charming enough, but often very peculiar."

" Oh, you know her then ? Where did you meet ? "
asked my young friend inquisitively.

" Well, I didn't speak of it, but in summer, while
you and all the others were away for your holidays,
I got very intimate with the beautiful lady."

I was naturally very astounded at hearing this,
and told him to confront me with him at once.
Shortly afterwards, Baron de G. and his friend
Count K., who was an utter stranger to me, stood
before me. The latter opened his eyes even wider
than I did. He looked around in astonishment, first
at the room, then at me, and lastly at the garment
I was wearing, which was a white silk tea -gown
embroidered in pale blue and silver, and therefore a
little unusual. He then exclaimed breathlessly,
seemingly overcome by the peculiarity of the situa-
tion, "Pardon, it is really too extraordinary. The
room is the same, the dress is the same — but the
lady is not the same — not at all the same ! "

" Good heavens ! this is madness ! " I exclaimed.
"What did the person look like who was supposed
to be me ? "

Count K., who was still a very young man,
stammered in confusion, " She is black as a coal,
with large black eyes. She always had long gloves
on, which reached to her elbows, and is quite, quite
different. Besides this, she speaks with a strong
Hungarian accent"

263

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

For a moment we all three stared at each other.
Then an idea struck me. I rang for my maid, and
told her to tell Marie, the pretty Hungarian cook,
to come to the drawing-room at once, just as she
was. She appeared, quite smart, but very cook-like.
Tableau !

On the threshold she burst out, "Jesus, Marie,
and Joseph ! The Count ! Oh my ! Gracious lady 1
No, I won't stay a moment ! " and off she ran.

The person who was most upset at the whole
affair was the Count. He was infinitely ashamed at
having been so duped, and our assurances that such
an "accident" could easily happen to any young man
who was not careful, made very little impression on
him. He left, and nothing would induce him to
come to the "dangerous" house again.

When I asked the ambitious cook, who was
sobbing in the kitchen, how she had dared to take
him in so, and even go to the length of wearing my
dresses, she replied, quite crushed, " He was so
nice, the Herr Graf — and if he had known I was
only miladi's cook, he would never have come."
" But how did you make his acquaintance ? "
" I saw him in the Theresianum garden, and I
made signs to him."

" And my dress, and my gloves ! how can you
have dared to wear them ? "

" Oh, madam, I always had a bath first, before I
put them on ; and without gloves he would have seen
my red hands and wouldn't have believed 1 "

I could not help laughing, but nevertheless told
the all-too-gifted cook to fold her tents and depart,
especially as I discovered that whilst playing "the
lady " she had proved herself too generous with my
wine cellar towards her aristocratic young friend, and
especially had not spared my champagne.

The ridiculous story was the source of the greatest
amusement to all my friends for a long time ; and they
laughed particularly at the credulity of the youthful

264

LEAVE FOR RUSSIA

Count, who had mistaken a Hungarian cook for
Helene von Racowitza.

During the following winter, the great exertions
entailed by my theatrical touring weakened my health
considerably. The doctors on the Rhine, where I
stayed a great deal, advised me to give up my profes-
sion for a time, and to seek recovery in Italy.

Italy ? No ! Some of my family were living there.
Also that country held only sad recollections for me.
I did not want to go there. I didn't like Paris either.
A soft mild climate was never good for my nerves.

But the North, the land of snow and ice, the
home of my first love — that tempted me ; the
magnificent Russian metropolis — St. Petersburg I
It beckoned to me, and I followed its call. I went
there in spite of the astonishment and warning of my
friends, in spite of the head-shaking of the doctors ;
I was drawn thither as if I were following the call
of Destiny.

Without special object, or any reason that could
further my interests, and as there was nothing to
prevent my doing so, I followed my fancy.

265

PAKT VI

St. Petersburg — Journey — Life and doings there — Some dark
episodes — The great love of my life comes — A strange
beginning — Mysterious "Walter" — Journey from St.
Petersburg to Paris — In Paris — London — To America.

267

CHAPTER XXXI

My journey to St Petersburg was not accomplished
in the usual way. When I was starting, I met a
German Prince of my acquaintance, who was about
to visit his sister, the wife of a Russian Grand Duke.
We were both delighted to meet, and I travelled in
grand style in the extra royal carriage which was
waiting at the frontier. In short, I travelled most
pleasantly in every way. The Prince and his suite
were amusing and clever companions, and the hours
flew so that we could hardly believe it when we
reached St. Petersburg.

Arriving in such style and company, I soon came
in contact with members of the noblest families, and
before long learnt to appreciate their amiability,
cleverness, and kindness of heart. It is true that,
despite their fastidious refinement and elegant
manners, they sometimes gave vent to ideas that
were most astounding ; this seemed to transport
one suddenly into the heart of Asia.

Prince Ob was an exceptionally clever elderly
man ; one could chat on every imaginable subject
with him in the pleasantest way. He was equally
familiar with Russian, German, French, and English
literature. In short, he made an absolutely European
impression. One day the conversation turned on
politics. At that time (I speak of 1875-76) the first
signs were observed in St. Petersburg which led in
1881 to the assassination of the Emperor Alexander
II. , the consequences of which are felt even to-day.

269

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Numbers of young people were arrested and
banished to Siberia, without trial, every one knows
under what cruelties.

We began talking of this, and I expressed my
sympathy for the poor things. Then the old Prince,
who was otherwise so good-natured and pleasant,
said, " There we are again ! People do nothing else
but make martyrs out of these young madcaps ! Of
course this encourages all the others. One ought to
give every political criminal fifty strokes with the
knout, then their nimbus would be taken away from
them, and the shame of it would cure the rest."

"My dear Prince," I exclaimed in horror, "what
a barbarous idea ! Of course you are only joking."

" I was never so serious ! One can only cure such
social evils with the knout. If one treated the fools
like street-boys instead of martyrs, the others would
mind what they were doing ! "

It is impossible to argue against such views. In
consequence of this and similar conversations, I often
said, " The Russian mind is like the kingdom itself,
very broad, very rich and fruitful ; but there suddenly
comes the boundary which is drawn so rigidly that the
foreigner cannot overstep it without passports ; and
only beyond the border comprehension begins again."

Here is another case. A friend of my future
husband, a highly educated doctor, had become a
political suspect. He was dragged away from his
people in the middle of the night and thrown into
the terrible fortress of Peter and Paul. He had been
there for months, and no one had heard of him again.
This fortress is beautifully situated, commanding
the finest views, and in its wonderful church the
Emperors' graves are to be seen in all their glory ;
yet it contains all the infinite wretchedness of these
poor political prisoners. They languish here, bereft
of the hope of a just trial, or indeed any trial at all,
in the damp, dark, dirty dungeons below, which are
kept in a manner befitting the Middle Ages, until

270

LIFE IN ST. PETERSBURG

merciful death releases them from their misery ; or,
should this be too long in coming, until (according to
the official expression) they are "banished " to Siberia.

At last it was known (I know not through which
secret channel) that the poor doctor was nearly blind,
and consumptive. His well-to-do family (he had a
wife and young children) hesitated at no pecuniary
sacrifice to try and gain, not freedom (for they knew
this was impossible), but only so much mercy as to
allow the poor sick creature to be transported into a
less deadly prison.

I had the doubtful privilege of knowing the two
most powerful generals of St. Petersburg, " old
Trepoff," the father of that one now so much talked
of, and General Count Mesentzow. These two were
just then at the head of the Chiefs of Police and of
Secret Police.

I addressed myself first to General Trepoff. He
replied that the affair was already in the department
of the third division, i.e. of the Secret Police ; it was
a matter for General Mesentzow to see into. On
applying to the latter, I received a smiling assurance
that he had nothing to say on the question — it was
wholly in the hands of Trepoff!

It dragged on for a time, until one day General
Mesentzow received the confidential advice that /
had better not interfere in the unpleasant business,
otherwise I might find myself entangled in serious
difficulties !

Every child knew at that time what this meant.
The bare possibility made me shudder !

The crime of the prisoner in question was this :
he had given one of the prisoners sent to Siberia a
little bottle of morphia, in case the latter found the
misery more than he could bear.

After that we could find out nothing more about
him, nor what became of him, but supposed that his
death, in order not to excite attention, was passed
over in silence.

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOW1TZA

Anyhow, it was wisest on my part, being a
foreigner, to adopt the same silence, in order to avoid
being implicated in an unpleasant dilemma.

The two generals above mentioned became victims
of the Revolutionists, or, as they were then called,
of the Nihilists. Trepoff was mortally wounded by
Wjera Sassulitsch, whilst Mesentzow perished in a
bomb explosion.

......

Away now with these dismal pictures ! There
were enough beautiful and brilliant things to look at
and experience in St. Petersburg.

I was above all attracted by the magnificent
'* Eremitage." I passed hours and hours in the
unique royal picture gallery. I knew every work of
art and its place there so well that I could easily
have served as guide, which, in fact, I did whenever
friends of mine came from abroad and wanted to see
the treasures of the Russian metropolis.

The superfluous magnificence of the churches and
palaces had less attraction for me, but I loved the
nightly troika drives, witfi their mad speed through
the snow, gleaming brightly in the darkness ; the
fabulous luxury at the end of them when, in some
splendid restaurant far away from the capital, a
magnificent repast with costly wines would be served
to entrancing gipsy music, which made every one,
especially non-Kussians, forget all the fatigue of the
drive. The wonderful attraction of all these things
seemed drawn from some fairy kingdom.

Then came the long "white nights," so loved by
the people of the north — but which told terribly on
my nerves — when Russians expect that they and their
friends are to regard sleep and fatigue as non-existent ;
when activity is transferred from the troikas to the
Neva, which is covered with small steamers, and
when there is a life and brightness on the river which
only St. Petersburg knows.

It is a peculiarity of the Russian character, or

272

LIFE IN ST. PETERSBURG

rather of the people of St. Petersburg, that they
adore rushing and storming onwards for no ostensible
reason. In London the everlasting hurry of the city
man has a great and powerful goal — the earning of
money. The proverb, " Time is money," was invented
by an Englishman. The same thing holds good in
America, added to the device, "We must never let our-
selves be done." In Petersburg men and vehicles rush
and hurry, but without aim, simply for the pleasure of
doing it ! Perhaps they wish to compensate them-
selves by this for the retrograde condition of their
national development ! Perhaps, however, it is
merely the expression of a superfluity of strength
which, hemmed in in other ways, thus finds its
relief !

One sees in this remarkable people more contra-
dictory traits of character than in any other. To a
stranger each person is as much of an enigma as the
whole people ; good-natured even to sacrifice, yet
withal cruel and without compassion ; clever and with
a brilliant mind, and at the same time capable of
doing the maddest and most stupid things ; courageous
and ready to do heroic deeds, yet capable of cowardly
lying in order to evade some trivial unpleasantness ;
true and false, active and energetic, yet indescribably
lazy ; at once capable of the highest and lowest
qualities, a mixture of the best and the worst — such
is the Russian !

No other people, however, has such a mingling of
racial elements, and European, Asiatic, Aryan-Tartar-
Mongolian peculiarities are mixed in this remarkable
kingdom of the future. I repeat once more that all
the curious features are to be found in each person as
strongly as in the whole vast race.

I have no intention of increasing the quantities of
description of journeys and impressions of Russia, and
will only mention here what struck me most during
my first stay in the country of the Tsar, and this
was, the preference the people seemed to have for

273 t

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

light and brilliant colours, not alone in their dress,
as every one knows, but in the painting of every
object that is " paintable " ; even the simplest peasants'
sleighs had the horses' yokes and all the woodwork
coloured in light green (evidently a favourite colour)
which was pleasant to behold. Their wood-carving
is both striking and beautiful, and on most of the
wooden houses in the suburbs and country it is
picked out in the gayest colours. The outward
impressions, therefore, are bright and friendly — in
spite of the desolate poverty reigning within.

There was enough to look at and to learn until
the consummation of my Fate, which tapped at my
door one day when I was sitting in my drawing-room
alone, and a little bored.

Without thinking I called out "Herein!" and
there it stood in the doorway, in the shape of the
young man — whose name I had forgotten ! It shot
through my mind as I greeted him joyfully : "Ah!
the young man from Kissingen ! Lassalle's clever
admirer of the Salzburg station ! "

He had heard of my presence in Petersburg from
a mutual friend ; had come to see me ; found no one
in the ante-room, and here he was, asking laughingly
if I wanted to write my memoirs now, and if 1 should
dictate them to him ?

No, indeed, I would not, but I would chat with
him for a few hours with pleasure. I had found very
few people in Petersburg who really interested me, so
it happened that we were very soon deep in all sorts
of problems. We talked till other guests were an-
nounced, and then it occurred to me again that I did
not even know the name of my visitor.

I was ashamed to confess that I did not know it,
after such an intimate conversation, for I had spoken
to him very openly about myself and my life.

I then thought of a little ruse and said, "Let us
send a telegram to the friend who invited us together
at Kissingen, and let us both sign it."

274

AN UNKNOWN FRIEND

" Yes, let us," he agreed.

I wrote and signed, and pushed the paper over to
him for his signature, with the remark that we could
send it at once from the hotel — but he folded it up
and said quietly, " I am sorry I must go at once. I
will take it with me to the post-office en passant."
He left me once more without my having found
it out !

My friends laughed at me for having sat hours on
end with a " nameless one " who nevertheless had
turned into an "intimate one," and whom I did not
know 1

One of those who had been announced had greeted
him, Russian fashion, as " Sergei y Egorowitsch " —
therefore I presumed he knew his surname.

" Well, Prince W., what is his name ? " I asked,
after they had teased me quite enough.

" Well ! Sergei Egorowitsch ! I don't know more
than that. I meet him at Court, and in all the circles
of the grand monde. His friends all call him by that
name. I know nothing more."

So it remained for a few days until at last Prince
W. said to me that he had found out at the Minister
Timoschew's, where they both visited, that the name
of my dark unknown friend was Schewitsch ; he was of
very good family, with three brothers, one of them in
the Embassy in Rome, one Governor of a big district
in the South ; he himself was in the Senate, and in
consequence in the Government service.

The name which has now been my own for so
long was communicated to me thus, amid laughter
and jokes, and I said, " Well, after all this trouble
and these obstacles, I won't forget it again ! "

275

CHAPTER XXXII

I never did forget it again, for out of this seemingly
trivial beginning there arose a mighty love — one
that has defied every obstacle, and has risen victorious
over every sacrifice, which even to-day, after more
than thirty years, is proof against dangers, storm,
shipwreck, and struggles, and which every new mis-
fortune only serves to rivet more firmly.

For the time being, it was a sort of good-fellow-
ship, such as I have often enjoyed during my life
with eminent men.

If life means love, it was only now that I began
to live ! It is true that in the beginning I did not
recognise the tender shoot that reared its head among
the entangled weeds. It had to grow first, and
flourish, in order to show what a mighty tree was to
spring from this apparently insignificant plant. I
took no notice of it yet, and did not foresee that it
was to be the most valuable and perfect one in the
garden of my life.

However, the Great Gardener, of whom we know
nothing, took care of the tender little plant, shielded
it, reared it, and soon proved to me how weatherproof
and strong it was, in spite of its early frailty. Neither
storm nor lightning could kill it, nay, could even
bend it !

One evening a little incident, very characteristic
of the Russian people, happened.

I had promised to drive with my present husband
to the Casino ball for the nobility. As these delights

276

A RUSSIAN DRIVE

commenced in St. Petersburg in the middle of the
night, I decided to go to the opera first. My coach-
man, who had been with me for a long time, was a
good, trustworthy man, so I permitted my footman,
who was not very strong, and whom I needed later
for the ball, to remain at home for the first part of
the evening.

I had arranged with Serge that we should sup at
home before going to the ball. I drove off, wrapped
up in thick furs and fur rugs, in a light decolleti
ball-dress, with openwork silk stockings and satin
shoes.

It will soon be understood why I mention all this.
As I had left my footman at home, I did not put on
the usual fur boots over my ball-slippers, not wishing
to take them off alone, so I pushed my feet into a
fur foot-warmer. After the third act, I told the
porter to call my carriage. It drove up, and I got in,
saying, " Home ! " The porter arranged my rugs and
foot-warmer, and off we went. The windows were
thickly covered with frost, and I took no notice where
the carriage was going. It was only when, according
to my calculations, we should have arrived at home,
that I breathed on the glass to reconnoitre. I could
distinguish nothing, and as the horses were galloping,
I troubled no more.

At last the carriage stood still. I opened the
door — no house in sight as far as the eye could
reach, only snow, ice, and snowflakes descending
softly, ceaselessly.

"Iwan," I called out in horror. "Iwan! where
are we ? " No answer ! Snow ! Silence !

The horses started again. I looked out of the
open carriage -door, in spite of the cold which froze
my breath ; they turned once or twice in a circle,
then stood still, their long tails sweeping the snow ;
and without a sound my good Iwan fell like a log
from his box into the snow.

In a moment everything was clear to me. He

277

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

was hopelessly drunk and I was quite alone, in my
satin slippers and ball-dress, in 27 degrees of cold, in
an absolutely unknown region, with nothing but snow
all around. Even if I had been able to swing myself
upon the box with my long train and many lace
petticoats, I should not have known where to drive
to, as I could hardly see anything for the falling
snow. It was an appalling situation.

I tried first to wake Iwan by throwing snow-balls
at his face, but as this consisted almost exclusively of
hair and beard, it was not very effective. I stood in
the snow with my skirts over my arm, shivering with
the cold, as my fur only protected the upper part of
me. Every minute the horses might become im-
patient and run away. What then ? I threw a fur
rug on the snow in front of the horses' heads, and
standing on it I held them. Then with all my
strength I called out for help. Minute after minute
passed, and I remained in my terrifying solitude.
Again and again 1 called out. At last — at last, I
saw a man running towards me 1 " Heaven be
praised 1 " fell from my lips. I gave him a few
roubles at once, explained the situation as well as I
could, pointed out the drunken coachman, and asked
him if he could drive me to the town.

Yes, he could ! Heaven be thanked !

Then, half afraid and entirely frozen, I got into
the carriage, and entrusted myself with beating
heart to the guidance of this unknown man. In
such moments of terror I have always found people
better than one imagines — better, more helpful, more
useful.

My young muschik drove me home quite safely,
and every one was waiting for me in the greatest
excitement. He told the footman where he had
found me — also where the coachman was snoring,
softly embedded in the snow, and whence, after my
carriage had been taken to the stables, he was fetched.

He slept for two whole days, and then appeared

278

LIFE IN ST. PETERSBURG

before me bitterly repenting his behaviour and im-
ploring and obtaining forgiveness 1 I was sure he
would not do it again, and I was not mistaken. No
doubt the terrible cold and his careless Russian
temperament had tempted him to drink.

After supper, and having warmed my half-frozen
extremities, I changed my dress, and we drove off in
another carriage to the smart ball, which was like
most others. I will mention another original episode
of my St. Petersburg life.

I occupied the first etage in a very nice house,
the proprietor of which, as he was an extremely good
cook, provided the tenants with board. I therefore
kept no servants beyond my footman and my maid —
the coachman and carriage were hired monthly.

Above and below me the flats were occupied by
other pensionnaires, and meals were served either in
one's own private room, or at the public table. I had
both, according to my fancy, and at the table d'hote
I met a charming Frenchman, Baron Meritens by
name. This acquaintance soon ripened into a friend-
ship, which was based on mutual interests and lasted
many years.

Outside the town, upon the so-called islands by
the sea, our host possessed a pretty villa called
"Datsche," where I passed my summer months. The
Baron and other Frenchmen generally came out to
dinner, and we all amused ourselves very much during
the excellent meals by witty conversation.

The day of which I speak was in the early summer,
and we were still in town. I sent to tell our host
I would dine at table d'hote to-day, when he entered
my room with a mysterious air. "Ah, Madame la
Princess," he began ; " I have come to make a big
request, but it is a special occasion."

" Well ?" I asked curiously.

" Madame la Princess appreciates good cooking,
and is one of the few ladies who understands it. To-
day I am giving a dinner out there, in the garden of

279

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

my Datsche, to which I have invited the first chefs of
St. Petersburg, the Emperor's chef, the chef of the late
Empress Nicolaus, who now has the Donon Restau-
rant, the chef of the Dusseaux Restaurant — in brief,
eight old masters of the highest culinary art ! I
have composed a menu worthy of these masters, and
some of them are sending a few dishes which they
have composed themselves for us to judge and taste.
It will be a unique occasion. I thought it might
interest Madame la Princess not to let it pass, and
we should all feel so highly honoured if "

I accepted, on the condition that Baron Meritens
and Herr von Schewitsch should accompany me.
The Baron, to whom my host went at once, ac-
cepted immediately, and so did my present husband.
At two o'clock we drove out to the islands.

We found there an assemblage of gentlemen who
quite cut out my two aristocratic cavaliers : all of
them were dressed and becurled as if they had just
stepped out of the frames of old portraits of
Emperors. They were all old, with coiffures a Voile
de pigeon, broad batiste neckerchiefs as cravats (the
old Emperors indeed wore a jabot), and one almost
expected knee-breeches and buckled shoes. Their
tone and behaviour were just as distinguished,
measured, and full of dignity.

My companions and I glanced delightedly at each
other. I always liked old people and original situa-
tions, so was quite in my element.

The table was tastefully arranged with elaborate
old crystal, silver and flowers, and a row of ten or
more glasses before each plate showed that the cellar
was to offer just as exceptional enjoyments as the
kitchen.

I sat next the oldest of them, who had been the
chef of the Empress and was now that of the Donon
house. Opposite sat my two friends. Our host
hardly sat down at all, as he had too much to do
with the secrets of his menu and his wine list.

280

A MEMORABLE DINNER

What a menu ! Unfortunately I did not keep it ;
but as the dishes were evolved from the spontaneous
genius of their creators, no one could have hoped to
copy them in anything like their pristine perfection.

Of course, nothing was eaten in the usual way :
each mouthful was subjected to a rigorous test, and
was allowed to melt on the tongue, accompanied
by a polite though severe criticism. The most
refined petits plats were greeted with delight, and
thoroughly enjoyed. As a matter of course, truffles,
mushrooms, asparagus, and green estragon played a
great r61e in the flavouring of these delicate little
dishes. There was pur^e of asparagus, and mousse
a la Perigord, and white chickens' livers ! Even
the wisest of these judges could not guess what gave
the extraordinary flavour to the tender, delicate
things one could hardly term "livers " 1

At last the secret came out. They had been
soaked in champagne, flavoured with estragon, made
up in moulds, and were served now as these exquisitely
refined snow-white foies de poulardes.

Many other equally delicious dishes followed ;
one would have been absolutely bewildered and
fatigued if the conversation of these old "princes
of the kitchen " had not proved so amusing and in-
structive.

For instance, I said I did not consider karviol
(cauliflower) a delicate vegetable. At this, my old
neighbour (the ex-Empress's chef) tapped his long,
white, carefully tended finger-tips together, in sign
of applause. "Bravo! Bravo 1 This shows a most
cultivated and correct taste. Cauliflower is a vege-
table which can only be eaten by a connoisseur after
the most careful preparation. If laid in water, it
always keeps its unpleasant taste ; I always soak it

in milk for some hours, as then " and here followed

a most complicated treatment, which ended with,
"Only, no white sauce to it, but (and this is the
difficulty !) which of all you gentlemen can prepare

281

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

a really perfect beurre {noisette hazel-nut butter) ?
All the chefs and cooks I ever had to deal with
could never understand it. Beurre noisette must be
felt, it cannot be learnt, and, without it, cauliflower
is a horror ! This was also the opinion of my illus-
trious mistress the Empress — and she understood."

Among other things we had asparagus with all
kinds of wonderful sauces. The old man chuckled
with delight and said, turning to his colleagues,
" Do any of you know how to prepare a good
asparagus bouillon ? I am sure you don't ! I was
obliged to serve it daily at her late Majesty's table,
and when the great lady was dead, her son, our most
gracious Emperor Alexander II., summoned me to
his presence, kissed me on the forehead — here (he
pointed with his long first finger to a spot between
his white ailes de pigeon), thanked me, and said,
' Without your asparagus bouillon, my dear chef,
my beloved mother would never have been able to
live so long ! ' That was the greatest moment of
my life. A moment any chef might be proud of ! "

This extraordinary meal lasted until six o'clock
in the evening, and we found it more amusing than
many a society dinner. It resulted in most delightful
consequences for me. From that day, whenever I
entered one of the great Petersburg restaurants with
friends, or with my present husband, the waiters flew
at once to the " master " — my old kitchen " prince " —
and they could not do enough for me.

The old man had promised me at the cooks' dinner
to prepare with his own hands des peches a la
Bourdaloue, as well as perdreauoc truffes sautis en
casserole, and these, as well as other rare delicacies,
were placed on the table before me by the old man
himself, in silver casseroles.

When I dined there for the last time before my
departure from Petersburg, the old master prepared
a farewell supper worthy of a Lucullus, and our
parting was almost tragic.

282

BELGRADE

One more episode of this period.

During the autumn of '75 certain engagements
compelled me to go to Belgrade. At that time the
Servian capital was a wild little town consisting
chiefly of wooden huts, and a few good stone buildings.
The streets were miserably paved, and dirty. My
windows looked on the market-place, which was the
rendezvous of all the gentlemen. They looked most
picturesque in their national costume, and 1 noticed
the same here as in Corfu, that the male sex of these
races is the handsomer. Maybe the women age so
quickly that one hardly sees them during the short
time their beauty lasts. I wondered why this was
not the case in Roumania, where the women are
generally handsomer than the men.

Yet it was here in Belgrade that I witnessed the
entrance of personified beauty in the person of Queen
Natalie. Servia was still a principality, and Prince
Milan and his young wife were both ideally handsome
beings. I can see them now, so young, tall and
slender, with such noble features and form — and, to
all appearances, loving each other so sincerely ! I
seem to hear, as so often is the case in human love
and marriage, "They went forth like gods, and how
did they return ? " Everything that looked so bright
that autumn, in the golden Southern sunshine, ended,
— how ? In humiliation and sorrow, in blood and
misery 1

At that time, however, all was brightness, and
this marriage had even its comic side.

None of the Court officials seemed to know how
to place the guests at dinner according to their rank.
A capital idea struck one of them, viz. to place them
alphabetically ! Naturally the most appalling contre-
temps resulted. The Austrian Consul-Genieral, whose
name began with a W : was placed after a small
official whose initial was A ! The Russian Prince R.
sat far below a nobody with an initial D.

All the foreign diplomats laughed heartily after-

283

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

wards, except a few, who considered they ought to
feel offended in the name of the country they
represented !

Another thing struck me at the time — it was
the difference in the ideas of family morality which
existed in the two neighbouring countries of Servia
and Roumania. In Wallachia the most exaggerated
Parisian manners and customs were the order of the
day ; every man had a love-affair with his neighbour's
wife, and vice versa, this being not only tolerated,
but sanctioned by society, although the influence of
beautiful Queen Elizabeth, the revered Carmen Sylva,
has done much to modify this. One saw nothing of this
in Belgrade. Here, although not exactly European,
quite respectable family life reigned. I, at least,
heard no chronique scandaleuse during my six weeks'
stay there. Such things were the privilege of the
royal dynasty, the couple who then adored each
other — Milan and Natalie— and later on, Alexander
and Draga.

I returned to Petersburg and gave myself up
entirely to my great love.

A strange incident occurred in connection with
this journey to Belgrade, and had very Russian
consequences for me.

My present husband came to meet me in Prague.
We travelled together as far as Berlin, where we
remained a short time in the Hotel de Russie. His
duties called him to Petersburg a few days before me.

A long time after I had settled down again on
the borders of the Neva, and winter had returned, a
visitor asked me one day, " What has the secret
police to do with you ? "

" What do you mean ?" I replied, astonished.

"Because a policeman has just been inquiring of
your dwornik (sort of butler) who visits you, and
what letters you receive 1"

I was indignant, turned to my friend Mesentzow,
who merely said, "Nonsense, the gentleman is

284

MYSTERIOUS "WALTER"

mistaken. Inquiries are always made now and then
about foreigners."

I soon forgot the incident, as I heard nothing
further.

The following spring I went on a long theatrical
tour to Berlin. Sergei y Egorowitsch, my young
friend, telegraphed to me that he would come and
visit me at Easter. I met him at the station in a
carriage, and we drove gaily to the Hotel de Rome
where I lived.

Serge's room was a good distance from mine, but
on the same etage. I accompanied him there, and
we forgot the time in our animated conversation.
After two hours it occurred to me to return to my
own rooms, to give him time to bathe, etc.

I went down the long corridor, and was astonished
to find a policeman and several other men there.
This unusual sight in a first-class Berlin hotel caused
me to stand still and look after them. What can
describe my surprise when I saw them stop before
Serge's room ! The men entered, and the policeman
remained outside.

I flew there ; the policeman let me pass, and I
entered the room just as one of the men put his hand
on Serge's shoulder and said, "You are arrested." I
saw Serge push his arm away, and heard him call
out indignantly, "Beware, if you touch me ! "

"What on earth is the matter?" I called out;
then one of the men asked me excitedly, "That is
Walter, is it not ? "

" Who is Walter? " I said, half amused, half curious.
I was calmed on hearing the name, for I was sure
the scene could have no personal reference to him.

"You know very well who Walter is, madam,"
was the irritable answer. " He ran away last
November with 800,000 roubles, and you know it
very well ! "

I was really laughing now, and replied, "No,
indeed, I know nothing about it at all."

285

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Here Serge interrupted them, and said with
decision, "Will you accompany me to the Russian
Embassy, where I can get myself identified ? "

At this they grew more civil and said, "Yes,
certainly, if that is possible." The policeman was
told to walk a good distance behind them, and I saw
them depart without the slightest apprehension, for I
knew the Ambassador was a friend of the Schewitsch
family, and Count B. Secretary of the Embassy, a
personal friend of Serge's, so of course the misunder-
standing would be cleared up at once. However, for
greater safety, I sent a messenger to my friend Baron
von K., who had left the navy long since, and was
now first Secretary of the Embassy, and an important
person. Half an hour later he came to see me.

I must now relate what was at the bottom of the
whole story. As already stated, I had fetched Serge
at the station. We had both lived the previous
autumn at the Hotel de Russie, and the day we had
left the hotel porter had received a photograph of the
Russian " Walter," together with a warrant for his
arrest, for which a reward of a hundred pounds was
offered.

The resemblance to Serge von Schewitsch was
most striking. The clever porter then thought to
himself, " We shall soon catch him. He was staying
here for several days, and knows the Frau von
Racowitza very well." He went to the police station
and notified this, hence the surveillance of me and
my correspondence. " Walter " was not discovered,
and in Russia none dreamt of mistaking him for the
well-known Schewitsch. When, however, the same
porter saw us together again at the station, he rushed
at once to the police with the announcement,
" Now ' Walter ' has fallen into the trap 1 Frau von
Racowitza fetched him herself from the station, and
they are both staying at the Hotel de Rome," where
the arrival of the police was the result of this de-
nunciation. We heard all this later.

286

MYSTERIOUS "WALTER"

Baron K., to whom I now told my story, said,
" The Ambassador and Count B. left early this
morning for the Easter holidays, but that won't
matter. Schewitsch has got his passport, and the
affair will be arranged at once/'

I now became very uneasy. " No, my friend, he
hasn't a passport, otherwise "

"But that is impossible ! How did he cross the
border? How did he get leave? He is in the
Senate, in the State service ! "

I laughed, saying, " H y a des accommodements
avec le bon Dieu I He will not be here long, only just
over Easter, therefore it was not necessary to get
leave, and "

" Yes, but the frontier ? How did he manage
to cross without a passport ? " repeated the Baron,
putting on his official air.

" Oh, don't worry me, my dear friend ! He had
a friend on the frontier."

" Aha ! " he said, smiling amiably. " You tell me
who this friend is, and I will get your Serge out of
this mess."

"You know as well as I do that I will not do
this," I replied indignantly.

" Very well, then, I can't help you. We cannot
have such lax people on the frontier."

" Then the matter must take its course. I will
not mention the friend's name ! "

We quarrelled for a time over this, but when the
Baron saw he could not get the name out of me, his
old friendship prevailed, and he went over to the
Embassy to arrange the affair.

It was high time he got there, for the following
scene had taken place. As the Ambassador and
Count B. were not there, Serge had asked for Baron
K., and as he also was absent he said, " Who is here
then ? "

" Only Baron B."

This was the only member of the Embassy who

287

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

was unknown to Serge, but he suddenly remembered
that this was a close friend of his brother in Rome,
and as they were very much alike, although his
brother was nine years older than he, he built his
hopes on this. Accompanied by the secret criminal
police officer, he was shown in, and began with the
words, "Baron B., who am I ?"

The latter looked at him in amazement, then said,
" I don't know you personally, but judging from your
likeness to Dimitri Schewitsch, I should imagine you
were a Schewitsch."

" Do you hear ? " said Serge triumphantly to his
persecutor ; but the latter said quietly, " May I speak
to you alone a moment, Baron ? "

The two disappeared into the ante-room, and when
they came out Baron B. was cool in his manner, and
said, " Well, I hardly know you personally, and the
photograph of this Mr. Walter "

At that moment Baron K. appeared and saved the
situation. In spite of his explanation, the policeman
cast several mistrustful glances at his criminal. How-
ever, after he had been convinced of his mistake, he
made what amends he could by showing the picture
of the desired "Walter." My husband was so taken
aback at the resemblance, that he has said to me even
lately, " If I had not known that I was not Walter, I
should really have believed I was, when I saw that
photograph." The whole business ended in a laugh.

Now that the situation was clear, I was apologised
to verbally and in writing for the police surveillance.
The mistake on the part of the police was of the
greatest advantage to the real Walter, who was only
discovered at his death. He must have been a very
genial creature, for he had arranged his flight from the
Moscow bank in the following manner.

Being a member of the bank, he stole 800,000
roubles, then invited all the directors to a splendid
farewell supper, as he intended going abroad. They
all came, and all accompanied him to the station

288

MYSTERIOUS "WALTER"

He was off. As he enjoyed the unlimited confidence
of them all, his theft was only discovered some weeks
later, then we protected him ; and four years later he
was found in Naples in the direst poverty and ill-
health. He had gambled the money away at Monte
Carlo !

There was an amusing little sequel in Berlin to the
scene in the Embassy. Serge was sitting next day in
the Unter den Linden at Kranzlers', and was drinking
his coffee outside, when he noticed a man looking
very much like a detective walking up and down, and
looking very sharply at him. He got up, paid, and
went straight up to the man, nodded to him, and said,
" Yes, yes ! You are quite right ! I am s Walter ' ! "

The man, taken aback, stammered, "Yes, but
how ? "

" It's all right," continued Serge. " I'll go with
you to the police station. I'm tired of it all."

The poor policeman, quite surprised, took him to
the Molkenmarkt, and as soon as the door opened, the
police official of the previous day recognised Serge at
once, and jumped up, saying anxiously to the sub-
ordinate, " For goodness' sake, let the gentleman go !
That isn't Walter. I've had enough unpleasantness
about him."

The most comical result of this narrative was this,
that Serge von Schewitsch had to get a certificate
saying he was not Walter, because, no matter what
precautions the police might take, the same mistake
could happen elsewhere, as the police had telegraphed
for " Walter " all over the world. He carried this
absurd paper about with him for several years, and we
and our friends have often laughed over it.

I might relate many more stories of my stay in
the kingdom of the Tsar, but none that would be of
any particular interest. My life there was more of
an everyday kind, varied sometimes by journeys to
the picturesque Baltic Sea provinces and Finland, and
to Revel, with its delightful seashore.

289 u

CHAPTER XXXIII

I could not stand the damp climate of St. Peters-
burg. The proud Imperial city, as every one knows,
is built on ground reclaimed from marsh land, and its
emanations give fever and all sorts of illnesses to
people unaccustomed to the air, so I decided to go to
Paris with a woman friend. Not only did my health
cause me to make this decision, which was no easy
one, but I was going through a time of inward
struggle that made this last sojourn in St. Petersburg
one of the most difficult and responsible of my life.

I became daily more and more convinced that the
feeling between me and my friend Serge must not be
confounded with those which during so many years
had played greater or lesser parts in my existence.

We had many a deep and serious talk on the
subject together, and I also discussed it with friends,
but we saw no possible solution for the passion that
ruled us both.

I realised that our only salvation lay in parting.
I knew my own nature, and parting had always served
to cool any feeling I may have had. I judged my
friend's character by that of most men ; his love would
pass, he would turn to some one else, and a nice true
friendship would remain to both of us. Therefore
parting was best for him also.

During that sad time I passed my sleepless nights
in weeping, in struggling, and trying to persuade
myself. At last, as we then thought, reason was
victorious. I left St. Petersburg, and I went to Paris

290

DEPARTURE FOR PARIS

again, a paradise for most women, but a city which was
never very sympathetic to me. I arrived there feeling
very sad. The Imperial days were dead and gone, and
with them most of my friends. Gone also were the
glories of the beautiful Empress and her luxurious
Court. All these changes fitted in well with my
feelings.

I felt the parting from Serge as a deep sorrow,
and I soon saw that nothing could cure me of it.
My friends tried in the most good-natured way to
make the time pass pleasantly, but it crept along so
very slowly.

At that time, the late Albert Wolff, then critic
of the Figaro — the most " Parisian of the Parisians "
as he was called, although a German — sat with me for
hours chatting over his brilliant feuilletons, but I had
no heart for anything. For the first time in my life
my whole being was nothing but longing.

Seeing that at the other end of the electric
threads which bound our souls the same feelings
prevailed, it was not surprising that our parting
ended a few months after my arrival, and that my
young friend appeared in Paris.

How happy I was 1

When I said to him, " What next ? " and he
replied, "We will go to America," I was perhaps for
the first time in my life absolutely and entirely happy.

After a few delightful days in Paris we went to
London. I was charmed with the mighty city on
the Thames, and found it just as sympathetic as I
had found Paris the reverse.

We were lucky in the weather, and revelled in
the splendid museums, galleries, and institutions of
that most free of all monarchical countries. We
could not stay long then, and went to Liverpool to
catch the Cunard steamer, which, after a stormy
crossing, landed us on March 1, 1877, at New York.

Two free and happy people !

291

PART VII

America — Arrival and first impressions — Offers for the stage
— Some existence in New York — New friends ; Joseph
Keppler, Udo Brachvogel, and others — Journey to San
Francisco — Meeting with Professor Carl Semper — San
Francisco — The Chinese town — A night of serpents —
Farewell to California — Towards the East.

293

CHAPTER XXXIV

Yes indeed, two free and happy people landed in
New York on that glorious March morning !

Behind us lay all conventions, all European social
bonds. Before us lay life and all its possibilities !
Neither of us knew a living soul in all this vast
country. We were absolutely alone !

This was happiness.

• • a • •

It was 6 a.m. when we hurried on deck to greet
our new home. Purple sunrise bathed the glorious
bay in golden glowing colours, and yet the faint
outline of the young moon was still visible in the sky.
It was an entrancing sight, and all the Americans
on board declared that it was only under the stars
and stripes that there were such skies and such
sunrises and sunsets.

I was reminded of an old superstition of the
people : " If one sees sun and moon together in the
heavens, then happiness is near."

We then disembarked. Our first impressions
were " real " American.

I had fourteen trunks, containing long trains and
theatre costumes. Whilst Serge and my maid, whom
I had brought with me to New York, were preparing
to open our boxes for the Customs, a voice said to
them softly, " If you can pay me ten dollars, I will
manage to get your things through unopened." He
was bargained down to five dollars, and the affair
was arranged.

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

In the meantime, I sat on one of the larger boxes
awaiting results, when a long lean Yankee asked me
whether I was here for the first time, and if I knew
that a new President was elected to-day.

His name was Hayes, and it was very important
to remember that name for the next four years.
Hayes, then ! I laughed, and was delighted to meet
such a " real " one. Whilst we were driving to our
hotel in the Fifth Avenue, I noticed for the first time
a peculiarity that never ceased to strike us most
unpleasantly, and this was that dead cats and dogs
lay about in front of the big palatial buildings, and
everywhere, before each house, stood ashbins, or
sometimes only large or small open boxes. The
desolate condition of the streets struck us (I fear
it has not changed much at the present time).
Presidents might come and go, this or that political
party rise or fall— the dirt remained.

We were soon to make another disagreeable
discovery. After staying a short time in the hotel,
we went to a boarding-house, where the proprietor
was at the same time editor of the largest theatrical
newspaper. We liked him very much, but liked his
wife less, and put down her rather familiar manner
as being "real American." We thought fifty dollars
a week for board and lodging, without light and
firing, was cheap, for we had two large and one small
room on one etage, and one upstairs for the maid.
We heard afterwards that it was an abnormal price,
and after that we lived for half that sum. At the
time we did not know this, and as the food was good
we remained.

Then came the following incident. I was to act
for a charity, and wanted one of my best dresses.
Everything was looked through, but the dress,
trimmed with costly real lace, had vanished.

Two days later I had given my maid permission
to go out ; Serge was at the publishing offices of the
great New York paper The World, where he had

296

LIFE IN NEW YORK

found work, and I went out to be photographed with
my dogs, a giant Newfoundland and a small terrier,
both of which were splendid watch-dogs.

On my return home an hour later, I found Serge
in the doorway. We went to our rooms together,
and I saw at the first glance that my big iron jewel-
case had been broken open, and the most valuable
diamonds stolen. The empty cases alone gaped at me.

We immediately notified the theft to the police,
but we never recovered anything. Probably the
police were in collusion with the thieves. I never
found out whether they had been stolen by the
people in the house. Anyhow, we left this hospitable
roof, and preferred to seek shelter under a less ex-
pensive one.

Immediately on our arrival, Serge had found
employment on the staff of the aforementioned paper,
by reason of his journalistic talents. He writes
equally well in English, Russian, German, and French,
and was highly appreciated at the time of the Russo-
Turkish war, being an expert, perhaps the only one
they had, in Russian affairs.

After the theatrical performance I have alluded to,
in which I played one of my favourite roles, that of
Clotilde in Sardou's Fernande, I received offers from
various quarters of the States. I had not intended
including these in my plans, but nevertheless accepted
very lucrative engagements for San Francisco, Mil-
waukee, and St. Louis, and went there late in the
autumn.

From the first we made interesting acquaintances
in the German Colony of New York ; many of them
became intimate friends later, and helped to make
our often difficult time in America more agreeable
and homelike.

First and foremost was the genial artist Joseph
Keppler, and his dear little wife. He was an Austrian,
and had begun life in an adventurous and poverty-
stricken way. His father, a pastry-cook, had run

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

away from his mother, leaving her in absolute want
with a family of little children, but even as a boy
"Beppi" was an energetic and jolly lad. He
wandered to Tyrol and Italy, and earned his food
and wherewithal to travel by going into the farmers'
houses and offering to paint the inmates in return
for board and lodging. He declared that he had
managed splendidly, and had had delightful times.
I forget how it was he had come to America ;
anyhow, he was there, and after a short time had
become famous as a clever artist.

Then he married his beautiful Pauline — a niece of
the poet Pfav. When we first knew them and their
hospitable house, Joseph Keppler, in conjunction
with the rich printer Schwarzmann, had just founded
the first German comic paper Puck. They had
not the faintest idea, then, of the enormous fortune
they would make out of this. They lived very
comfortably and modestly with their children in a
tiny house, but the evenings we often spent there
with Udo Brachvogel and Leopold Schenk belong
to the most intellectually charming hours of all my
New York stay.

Udo Brachvogel, editor of one of the first German
newspapers there, the Belletristischen Journal, was
a delightful companion, as was also Leopold Schenk,
the literary editor of Puck.

A year later Puck had that lightning success
which is only possible in America, so that the
proprietors of it with one stroke, as in a fairy tale,
awakened in fairy castles. I remember with emotion
how, when I made my first visit to the lovely Pauline
in her magnificent castle high up on the Hudson,
she said to me, " Oh, Goldche " (she called me this in
her strong Swabian dialect), " I often think all this
glory is a dream ; it can't be true. I shall wake up
one morning and find myself in my little house."
But it was golden reality which, I believe, led later
on to several millions.

298

JOSEPH KEPPLER

About this time Joseph Keppler s name was men-
tioned so often in the States, that he received the
following letter from the Far West : —

Honoured Sir — If you were born in Vienna, and are the
son of the pastry-cook Keppler who left his wife and children in
18 — because he could not keep them, then you are my dear
son Beppi, and I will soon call and see you, as I am thus — Your
loving father, Keppler.

It may well be understood how this original
letter amused the original artist, and how quickly he
placed himself in communication with the author of
his being, in order to allow him to participate in his
quickly acquired wealth.

In that remarkable land one only needs to strike
the right note for money-making, ajid it will then
pour in with astounding rapidity.

But not everybody strikes the right note ; and
then he is ruined just as quickly, or joins the ranks
of the millions who are striving, straining, and work-
ing in vain ! The worst fate of all often awaits the
people of gentle birth who go over there with the
highest hopes. It is the most difficult of all for them,
unless they arrive with a very big title and good
recommendations, which may perhaps lead to a rich
marriage. I do not speak of these " seekers of luck,"
but of poor young people, with whom something has
gone wrong at home, and who are mostly of good
education, which they find of no use to them.

How many such existences we saw go to pieces
over there ! I remember an offshoot of one of the
oldest and most aristocratic Austrian families who
was thankful to accept the post of night-watchman
in one of the huge business houses in New York !

Those who understand horses are somewhat better
off; well-set-up coachmen are always in demand. A
young gentleman told me once how ashamed he felt
on receiving his first tip. He said to himself, " Down
with yourself, pride ! "

Most of them become waiters, and are not so

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

badly off at that. I particularly call to mind two of
these " shipwrecked ones," who — to a certain extent
— had risen again.

One evening I was sitting with a friend from
Paris in my little drawing-room at the Park Hotel
in the German suburb of New York, Hoboken. We
were talking French, when there was a knock at the
door (I must remark that I am anticipating a few
years in the narrative). I called out, "Come in." A
well-built young man in a servant's working jacket
came forward with a basket and coal-box, and pre-
sented himself with a perfect bow, as "Wilhelm —
the new man-servant."

We took no further notice of him, and continued
our conversation. I am passionately fond of animals,
above all of dogs, and we were discussing the breed
of my own three dogs, when it occurred to me that
I had seen one that morning which I could not
classify. I was describing it, always in French,
when suddenly the man-servant, who was lighting
the fire, turned round and said in most perfect
French, " No doubt, Madame, it was one of the
new breed of ' Stachelhunde ' ! "

At this we looked at him more closely, and I
said, " Surely you were not born to your present
occupation ? "

It then turned out that he had been an officer,
Baron W., and had to leave on account of debt.
In Europe he had tried a wine business on the
Rhine, and at last he found his way here. Here
he had fared very badly, and had fallen as low
as this.

He was an active, industrious, and very intelligent
man, and soon rose to book-keeper in one of the
large hotels. No doubt he has long since become a
rich and respected man in the country of unlimited
possibilities. A less satisfactory issue was in the case
of the American existence of another poor aristocrat.
I speak of Count B., who was turned out of the

300

DR HANS KUDLICH

highest Austrian State Service on account of his
own family's intrigues against him.

When we first came to know the old gentleman,
who was over sixty, he was eking out his living by
giving music lessons to poorer members of the
German Colony for fifty cents. He earned sufficient
for one good meal a day, and was at least sheltered
from the cold in a tiny room. When he was seventy-
eight years of age, kind friends made a collection for
him, and sent him back to Europe, where he died in
his ninetieth year. I worked out his highly interest-
ing life in a novel. It was one of the saddest and
most awful destinies I have ever known.

We often met the dear old man at our friends'.

Austrians cling together more than Germans
when they meet in a foreign land ; therefore it was
his own compatriots who tried to brighten the life
of the "Old Count," as he was universally called.

An interesting, almost historical, name is that
of the celebrated revolutionist of 1848, Dr. Hans
Kudlich. There was little of the revolutionist to be
seen in the prosperous doctor. His wife, a very
remarkable woman, was a sister of Karl Vogt.

The Kudlichs 5 house, with a number of pretty
children, was considered a hospitable meeting-place
for all the educated Germans and Austrians, and
every one was welcome who contributed to the
general amusement. Music was cultivated there,
as much as literature and science. Thus the circle
in which we entered proved to be quite stimulating.
Perhaps I had been spoilt in Europe by knowing the
very leaders in every department, and here I only
found those who were, as Joseph Keppler said of
himself and others when I was admiring one of his
works, " Oh ! nonsense ! We are all second class
here. The first-class ones over yonder would never
have let us get to the front, and they would have
been quite right."

He was over-modest in speaking like this of

301

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

himself, because he was a great and true artist, and
unfortunately quitted this life far too soon, but he
was right as regards most of them. Therefore,
although I made many friends among them, I felt
myself intellectually, and especially artistically, in a
sort of banishment over there !

302

CHAPTER XXXV

The time arrived for my tour in San Francisco.
Much as I liked the prospect of the journey, and
looked forward to all the new impressions that
awaited me, it was with a heavy heart that I thought
of my parting from Serge. Notwithstanding this,
he refused to accompany me. During the short time
of our stay in New York, he had already made a name
for himself in American journalism, was a regular
contributor to The World and The Sun, as well
as to the principal monthly magazines ; he wrote
occasionally for The Herald, and did not wish to
give it all up in order to travel merely as " husband
to a theatrical star." I could not blame him for this.
We had seen many examples of this species of
gentleman, and, difficult as it was for me, we had to
accommodate ourselves to it. Had I not been bound
by my contract, I would have thrown over the whole
Californian scheme ; but I was bound, and so was he.

In those days the journey from New York to
San Francisco lasted a week. My contract had pro-
vided that I should travel with every conceivable
comfort, and this provision was carried out. Only
those who have been through such experiences can
imagine what it was.

Perhaps I have been a trifle spoilt, and am very
fastidious in my ideas of luxury, but I cannot say
that I found these American journeys as pleasant as
all Americans seem to think they are. I disliked
exceedingly being in company with so many people

303

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

day and night ; and even when one paid for two
beds— an upper and under berth — there was no
privacy in these long sleeping-cars. Although the
beds are twice as wide as those in European cars,
they are divided from each other by curtains only,
instead of doors, and as they take up the entire width
of the carriage, one has either to encroach on one's
neighbour's space, or to dress and undress in a kneel-
ing posture. In brief, most unpleasant proximity
exists in these badly ventilated carriages, where an
absolutely pestilential atmosphere prevails. On the
other hand, when one was not obliged to consider
expenses, as was the case in this particular journey
of mine, what comfort and luxury were at my
disposal ! I had a small drawing-room for my use
with sofas arranged on three sides of it, which were
turned into beds at night. In front of this room
a wide platform abutted, provided with seats, from
which — once the dull journey to Chicago was past
— one could enjoy the glorious view. Being well
stocked with eatables by my friends in New York,
I travelled like a queen. There were no restaurant
cars in those days, yet at every station at midday
one could get a good meal— mostly, it is true, of the
temperance kind as regards drink. Americans, who
drink so much whisky and other spirits in general,
consider it wicked to drink a glass of wine at meals
in public. "Drinking," according to their ideas,
must be done secretly. At family hotel parties they
only serve iced water, which is so injurious to health.

I did not feel called upon to follow this habit.
My little wine cellar, which was well stowed away
in my basket, preserved me from this. I had to
thank it also for an extremely interesting acquaintance.

On the second day of my journey I stood on my
platform eating a sandwich, and sipping the sparkling
wine that was in my glass, when, on the platform
next mine, and attached to it as all American cars
are, I noticed an elderly gentleman with grey hair

304

PROFESSOR SEMPER

and beard, who was a thorough type of the German
scholar.

He watched my little feast with an amused smile,
but I thought I saw a little envy in his blue eyes, so
I called out, smiling also, and in German, " Will you
have some ? I am very well provided, and shall be
pleased to share it with you." He bowed, and
replied, laughing, "With pleasure, if gnadige Frau
will allow it ! "

I signed to him to come over, and played the
hostess as well as I could with my eatables and
drinkables. He enjoyed them immensely, and proved
to be a most delightful companion.

When the meal was ended, he said, " Now, cartes
sur table ! Of course I knew at the first glance
who you were, my beautiful, hospitable one ! Now
I must introduce myself to you. Professor Karl
Semper from Wiirzburg, Professor of Natural
History, invited by American Universities to come
over here and lecture in various halls. I went to
Boston first, then to Baltimore, and now I am going
to San Francisco."

We were at once on well-known ground, and
found we had a number of mutual friends and
interests. When the Professor found out that I was
especially absorbed in his own particular science of
zoology, his delight knew no bounds. The journey
became a very memorable one for me ; for everything
we saw was now explained to me by him. The
hordes of buffaloes and antelopes in the vast prairies,
the prairie dogs, whose strange little huts looked like
tiny villages ; in short, all the manifold animal life of
the Rocky Mountains, the Sierra Nevada, and the
vast steppes became doubly interesting under
Semper's animated description.

In those days, the traveller was confronted with
large hordes of Indians, who crowded round, begging
or offering for sale their leather work, bast, or bark.
Cards, tobacco-pipes, and fire-water were never

305 x

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

wanting. They are repulsively dirty and ugly beings,
but intelligent looking, and with a sad expression.

I was struck with several strange things on the
journey. High up on the Sierra Nevada there was a
solitary inn and (as everywhere) a church. One got
a very good lunch there, and it was here I saw the
first Chinaman as waiter. He made quite a clean and
sympathetic impression in his snow-white garments,
long pig -tail, with his polite manners, and soft
English. A Chinaman can never pronounce an " r " ;
for instance he always says "Ame/ika," and "/ice"
instead of rice.

At the following station there were two Chinamen
waiters, and at the next one three or four, and so on.
They were pushed into the country like a wedge —
very cautiously and cunningly, but steadily increasing
in numbers. When I returned to New York after
nine months, they had even reached that city, and
founded one or two laundries — their speciality —
there.

In San Francisco I spoke of what I had noticed
to the Russian Consul-General there, Baron von R.,
who was an authority on Chinese immigration. He
said I was quite right ; this wedge-like occupation of
other countries by the pig-tailed sons of the Celestial
Empire looked quite a simple and harmless non-
political thing. Personally, he considered the yellow
danger a most threatening one. He was right !
Everybody knows the trouble the United States had
in checking the influx, and what strict immigration
laws they were obliged to pass.

As far as Omaha the landscape was not particularly
interesting, but from that point I never left my
window, and enjoyed the magnificent views with all
my senses.

Salt Lake City, with its dome by the sea, and the
surrounding hills, impressed me with its ideal beauty.
Something very amusing happened here. I was
longing for some apples and nuts, and was shown an

306

THE MORMONS

enormous store. The wealthiest grocer in wealthy
Utah stood himself behind his counter, and asked me
in English, which savoured strongly of the Swabian
dialect, what I wanted.

When I answered him in German, he was hugely
delighted. By the time I had finished my purchases,
the no longer youthful Mormon had arrived at a
declaration of love and offer of marriage : " I have
looked for such a wife as you — beautiful, fascinating,
and amusing. I am very rich ; you shall have your
own villa, your horses and carriages. I have only two
other wives, and I am very difficult to please ! "

The thought of the " two other wives " was quite
enough for me. I smiled, shook hands with my
wooer, and told him I would think the matter over.
For the moment I was bound by contract to go to
San Francisco.

" All right," he said, " business is business ! "
Laughingly I left him— never to meet again.

I was keenly interested in the Mormons — perhaps
owing to this little personal episode, or perhaps
because of the striking contrast between the utterly
different laws of this state and those generally ob-
served in the northern states, where form and
exterior circumstances played such a great part. I
endeavoured on every possible occasion to find out
more about them.

The genial Mormon chief Brigham Young, the
successor of the eminent founder John Smith, was
just dead. The state was in deep mourning, without
leader or counsel. Brigham Young had had twenty-
one wives, from his oldest spouse down to the
members of the present generation. The old one,
however, had shared his regency in the most capable
manner. This flock of women were now leaderless,
and I heard that the successor to the throne of the
"Archangel" (I do not recollect his name) had in-
tended annexing the whole of them as his own.

Nowadays the laws of the United States have

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

enforced very rigid measures against several of the
main customs of the " Holy Ones " (as they prefer to
call themselves) of the Salt Lake.

Polygamy, especially, is not allowed to the same
extent. This, however, is no easy task, as polygamy
is closely interwoven with their most sacred doctrines.
Their religion is a curious hlend of all known exist-
ing religions. They adopt the ancient Indian (and
specially Vedic) idea of reincarnation, and teach
polygamy like the Koran, interweaving both in the
strangest manner. It was a sacred duty to bring into
the world as many children as possible, there being
so many souls in need of a body or "tabernacle" as
medium of reincarnation. Like the ancient Indian
doctrines, they believe that every reincarnating spirit
returns to earth in a higher state of development, and
it is one of the most laudable things to assist him to
do this. Therefore, one man was entitled to as many
" sealed " wives as he was able to support, whereas
the lady was sealed to him by s the fact of sexual
intercourse.

Adultery was most rigorously punished, and con-
sidered a terrible disgrace. A wife may be " sealed "
for all time and eternity, or only for time. The
former entitles her to all celestial happiness.

This amalgamation of all conceivable ethical
doctrine with material interests is found, by the way,
among many sects of the United States. For in-
stance among the Shakers, the Oneidists, and in the
Theosophical offshoots founded by Mrs. Tingley in
California.

Deeply fanatical religious feeling is side by side
in these settlements with the keenest business
capacities. All these sects have this in common,
that the basis of their religion has been imparted to
the founders in supernatural visions.

The Mormon religion was revealed to John Smith
in a dream, which told him to dig beneath a certain
hill, where he would find metal plates upon which

308

THE ONEIDISTS

the new law would be written. He did this, found
the plates, but could not read what was engraved
upon them. Close by, there lay a magic pair of
spectacles, the glasses of which were replaced by
precious stones. By means of these he read the
writing, which became their sacred doctrine. His
successor, Brigham Young, completed this by means
of revelation received in a state of ecstasy.

The Shakers base their belief, which is not unlike
the Christian in many ways, on the revelations of
Anna Lee, who prohibited marriage and all sexual
union, as all disasters were supposed to spring from
it. She placed chastity as the first principle of their
community, whose members are recruited from
auxiliaries and proselytes. It has existed for a
century and a half, and the members are esteemed
for their honesty, their incomparable farming, and
sound business capability.

The same applies to the " Oneida community,"
only they possess quite wonderful sexual laws, based
also on the revelation of their founder (whose name I
do not know). They also forbid marriage and sexual
intercourse. In order to secure the existence of this
community to posterity, the elders annually select a
couple, who live together for a year for the procreation
of children. The children are taken from the
mothers a few days after birth. She is allowed to
nourish the child in the general nursery. From this
it is handed to the universal education board, which
is supposed to make all the children, none of whom
know their parents, good citizens, thorough workmen,
and God-fearing people. All grown-up people are
"elders" of every child; individual parentage is
immaterial. They never become soldiers ; war and
combat are contrary to their laws, as is the case with
the Mormons.

The couples who have lived together for one year
are either interchanged or remain alone. Love, in the
usual sense, is out of the question among them.

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

No pressure is exercised to keep the members
faithful to their community, but they seldom leave it.

I must add that in Oneida work is distributed in
a true communistic spirit; everybody does every-
thing, i.e. every year as soon as the marriages are
concluded, work is distributed afresh, according to
the capabilities and knowledge of the individual. So
and so many members are allotted to agriculture —
others to cattle farming, dairy work, etc.

The women also have their appointed tasks, which
contribute to the welfare of the whole, such as
nursing, rearing, and educating children, kitchen
duties, etc. Meals are partaken of together in huge
palatial halls, in spite of the little community being
simple in dress and customs. Their cleanliness is as
noted as that of the Quakers.

Another sect exists in South Texas, under the
name of O aspe. It was at the end of the 'seventies
that a few people who were seeking the " ideal "
united; amongst them was the famous Dr. Tanner,
who was the first to invent the art of " hunger," based
on the imitation of Christ's fasting ; this enforced
forty days' abstinence from food. The adherents
comprised all classes, from University men to simple
farmers. There were about forty members, including
twelve women. They solicited a piece of virgin
soil from the Government, which they themselves
cultivated by working together. This was difficult,
as the soil there is heavy and clayey.

They cultivated their own wheat and vegetables,
built their houses, and lived according to their " ideal."
They supported this claim on a book of revelation,
communicated by a trance " medium " ; this, curiously
enough, is nearly identical with the ancient mystic
doctrine of the Indian theosophists, of which the
unlettered Californian medium could have had no
knowledge whatever.

They named their settlement O as pe. The
idea of the name is, that the sounds are the

310

THE "O AS PE'

same as the first that fall from human lips, from
the inhaling and exhaling of the breath, and the
ensuing sigh of relief. O as pe is a most extraordinary-
book of theosophical teaching clothed in the old Bible
English. But the most interesting part of these
settlers' " ideal " philosophy was that of education.

Although communistic, their inclinations were
completely monastic. They were against all sex
relationship amongst themselves. Without knowing
it, they followed the highest teachings of Buddha,
for, besides being strict vegetarians, they abstained
from alcohol, and were opposed to the drinking of
tea and coffee.

They avoided all distractions of outer life, desired
to banish all sexual love, and only to recognise that
highest divine love towards man.

Every year, one man and one woman were sent
out of their midst to the great cities, into the centres
of sin and crime, to pick up tiny, innocent, and, if
possible, new-born children ; those who were deserted
by their parents, the disinherited ones of the earth,
who, like stray blossoms, had no soil wherein to grow
and flourish.

Their dream was" to take such infants (the sole
condition being that they should be clean and free
from hereditary taint) and transplant them to their
own isolation from the world. They were never to
behold sin and crime ; they were to grow up amidst
healthy surroundings, with simple food and properly
apportioned work, and thus were to become through
bodily and spiritual purity, thoroughly virtuous
beings.

Mrs. Tingley founded in South California a
veritable paradise for theosophists, who, however,
were obliged completely to submit themselves to
her. She teaches pure theosophy, as may be read by
those who interest themselves in this in my little
book, Wie ich mein Selbst fand, published by A.
Schwetschke und Sohn, Berlin.

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

She formerly professed to be the reincarnation
of H. P. Blavatsky, and rules her little pattern
kingdom — which is lavishly decorated with temples
and other buildings, parks, and hygienic comforts
and luxury — with a rod of iron.

After this long digression, which may have seemed
to some not devoid of interest, I return to the
moment which inspired it, namely to the comic offer
of marriage of my Mormon merchant.

Professor Semper was highly amused at this
conquest, won during my apple transaction ! He
shortened my journey by many an interesting story
of his own youth. Once when he was butterfly-hunting
far away in the South Sea Islands, he was taken
prisoner by a wild tribe of cannibals, and was kept
there for two or three years in an absolute state of
nature — otherwise he was well treated.

The tragic part was that Semper's wife had
accompanied him on this South Sea Expedition. She
had stayed behind in one of the larger towns of the
more civilised groups of islands in order to execute
in their true colouring certain necessary illustrations
of collections they had made together. She expected
her husband back in a few months.

When these had elapsed without his appearing,
she made countless unsuccessful efforts to find
some traces of his whereabouts ; these were in-
spired by the most tender solicitude. At last,
after indescribable exertion and complicated ex-
peditions on horseback, she eventually discovered a
trace through the very blacks who had transported
him in their boats to their island and had made
him a prisoner.

With the aid of the British and Dutch Govern
ments (I forget to which of them the island was
subject), she managed to find her husband and bring
him back. But they had been terrible years for
both of them, they had blanched their dark hair and
left indelible traces on their features. Her husband

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PROFESSOR SEMPER

had run the daily risk of being devoured by his
friendly " hosts " !

He was only saved by the knowledge of their
language, and by relating to them all sorts of stories
about Europe and our civilisation, all of which ap-
peared to them entirely incredible.

313

CHAPTER XXXVI

While engaged in these fascinating conversations,
we reached California. We arrived towards evening
in San Francisco, and as the town lies on a peninsula,
it could, like Venice, only be reached by train over
a mighty bridge which is thrown across the arm
of the sea. Thus one could see the town at its
best. When I look back on my ecstasy over
the beautiful "'Frisco," I become quite melancholy
in thinking that one is obliged to say of the whole
of this regal city, " It was once." At this time it
still lived — that proud guardian of the Golden Gate,
and I was never so enchanted with any city in the
world.

The only place that made upon me anything
approaching the same impression was Edinburgh ;
only here the glorious southern colouring and tropical
vegetation were lacking. Neither Naples, Corfu, nor
Geneva can compare with San Francisco.

It seems like fairyland, and the view from one of
the streets upon the heights was simply ideal. The
lofty mountains, the glorious Pacific Ocean, which
from afar rolled its deep majestic waves thither, and
the incomparably gorgeous colouring, were simply
entrancing. And now, it all lies in ruins !

This most beautiful of all cities, over which nature
poured in profusion its richest treasures and greatest
marvels, as if it wished by these to console the beauti-
ful thing for its early death, did not even exist for
a century 1

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SAN FRANCISCO

In 1848 hardly anything was there except a few
huts in a wild romantic district ; it was thirst for
gold and gleaming glory of the discovered metal that
built up this marvellous city to brief magnificence
and quickly sinking happiness.

I may say that the intoxication of California
seized me with all its might, and if only Serge —
whom I missed dreadfully — had been with me, I
daresay I should never have left it. Whoever has
lived in this lost earthly paradise of San Francisco
must retain the same longing in his heart for this
ideal dwelling-place as did the first couple when they
were driven out of the Garden of Eden. The flaming
sword here became the sea of fire, and like the ancient
legend, when everything grew to monstrous pro-
portions, the simile could be applied even more
appropriately. Mourning for this glorious city makes
one lament its destruction.

Even if we read to-day in astonishment and
admiration that the great financiers of New York's
Wall Street are building it up almost upon its smoking
ruins, how they contemplate rebuilding, and in still
greater splendour and magnificence than before — of
course one believes them, for what could Californian
gold not achieve when coupled with American astute-
ness 1 But they will never be able to bestow on it
the fascination of the first San Francisco. Its chief
charm did not consist in its incomparable position
on the Golden Gate in the midst of a crown of
mountains and eternal blossoms ; nor in the southern
glory of colour ; nor in its burning sunrises or sun-
sets, nor its charming population ; nor even in its
exquisite climate, that knows neither summer glow
nor winter frost : it was the legendary beginning,
the unique upspringing and blossoming forth, that
so powerfully attracted every European who possessed
the slightest imagination.

I alighted at the beautiful Palace Hotel, at
that time the richest and most comfortable one in

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

California, but now also destroyed in the earthquake
of April 18, 1906.

Californian belles made it a condition then, when
wedding their "boys," that they were to live for a
time in the Palace Hotel.

Well, in spite of all the luxury and the splendid
menus, I did not find it such a paradise.

The service was bad, and just those menus in-
supportable to the spoilt palate of a European.

The cuisine in America is awful ! I shudder
when I think of it.

Professor Semper held his two or three interesting
lectures. I appeared with great success in Paul
Lindau's Maria and Magdalene. Until this came
off, I stayed in the hotel.

When Semper was about to depart, I told him
how unsympathetic this building was to me. He
advised me to look at lodgings in a German family —
the Fischers. The father was the custodian of the
Academy of Science, and they would be delighted to
have me with them. We drove there at once, and I
immediately took the rooms — one nice large bedroom,
and a small, original-looking salon. The latter looked
very much like a natural history cabinet, so many
curios were kept there ; and next it was a charming
little greenhouse with living birds and rare plants.

To me — such a friend of nature — it seemed a
paradise. The Fischers themselves were dear, kind
people — he was a passionate zoologist, who passed
half the year journeying in distant, unknown districts
in order to collect all manner of plants and animals
for the academy, for himself, and for export to
Hamburg. Now he was here for the winter, and
was delighted to find me so appreciative of all his
curiosities.

When I looked at the large comfortable bedroom,
he asked me if it would disturb me if on the chest of
drawers two enormous glass cases covered with wiring
remained, as they were fixed with heavy stones.

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SAN FRANCISCO

Snakes were in them, sleeping their winter sleep— a
boa constrictor and a Mexican snake. Now they
were hibernating for six months, and nothing could
rouse them.

*' Let them stay there, I don't mind," was my
answer.

The same day I entered my fairy castle.

I made several delightful expeditions with Semper
to look for shells and animals, especially salamanders.
We drove southwards along the lovely coast, and
revelled in the heavenly beauty and delight of it all.
The beach of the Californian coast is composed of
fine sand, which the dampness has made as flat as a
macadamised road, and the light buggies and little
one-horse vehicles are drawn so swiftly by mustangs
that they seem to fly and hardly leave any traces of
the wheels. One can drive on the very verge of the
sea, and so quickly that one hardly feels the motion
at all. Sometimes, indeed often, one comes upon the
treacherous quicksands, which melt like water under
horses and carriages ; these may be engulfed without
hope of salvation.

Nothing of the kind happened to me, and it
became a perfect passion with me to fly thus along
the beach.

Then came the farewell with dear old Semper !

I made certain acquaintances through him — Baron
von Behr, President of the Academy of Science, and
a nice and very old physician, Dr. Ahlers.

The first was a Courlander by birth who had been
here for years, and was a famous specialist in zoology ;
the latter was a Hanoverian, who soon loved and
spoilt me like a little daughter. I remember the
following original episode of Baron von Behr. We
had all made an excursion to the so-called Mission
"Dolores," the oldest settlement of San Francisco,
which had remained unchanged, and around which
the beautiful city was grouped. The Mission is in
the hands of the Jesuits, and we found that the

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Protestant baron of the Baltic provinces had become
a firm follower of them. At that time I was of
materialistic, perhaps atheistic, opinions, although I
really occupied myself very little with these things,
and avoided speaking of them.

In consequence of my visit to the old Mission, I
expressed my astonishment a few weeks later to
Baron Behr that he, a scientific man and a zoologist,
could ever be such a faithful son of the Roman
Catholic Church, and even of the Jesuits. To this
he replied good-naturedly, " Yes ! you see, one
doesn't know anything for certain, but one thing is
absolutely sure, and that is, that we must die. This
is what I think ! If afterwards all is really at an end
— well ! this little church piety won't have done me
any harm. But if it be true about the eternal life
and all the rest, well, then, it is better to be on the
safe side, and be sure of all advantages."

We laughed heartily, and the Jesuitical point of
view of the old Professor Baron von Behr was often a
source of amusement to us.

The career of my old friend Dr. Ahlers had been
more interesting. He had come over as one of the
first pioneers, had gone through the whole of the
mad period of gold-digging, had exchanged his first
nugget for a diamond, as gold-dust or nuggets were
stolen too easily. He had always worn this diamond
as a talisman, and had it made into a pendant as
a farewell gift to me, that I might wear it also as a
lucky talisman. I treasure it to this day, even if its
donor has long since been laid to rest.

My old colleague told us mad and wild stories of
those days of gold-digging, where each man was his
own avenger and judge ; and how he told it !

For instance, when I stood with him in the fine,
animated Market Street and praised the elegance
one saw everywhere around, the old man nodded
approvingly, saying, " Yes, yes ! You may well
admire it, for the whole space from here to the port

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SAN FRANCISCO

has been reclaimed with endless trouble from the
sea." Or he said, "Imagine that everywhere, here
where you now see palace after palace, hardly thirty-
years ago there were only miserable huts belonging
to the wildest fellows, gold-diggers and washers, to
whom I also belonged ! The ground, which now
offers no unevenness to your Paris shoes, was then
all heaped up, and searched for gold — only gold — by
the gold-seekers of all the world ! There was nothing
but the wildly romantic, beautiful country around ;
the wonderful climate, the Mission building of the
Jesuits, Buona Herba ; and in most of those dwelling
here the one thought, besides the gold fever, was envy
of the others who perhaps had been more fortunate
in their digging than themselves, and of whom they
took measure, wondering if, in the silence of the
night, a revolver-shot could not transfer the other's
prize to themselves."

When one heard all these things, one was seized
with amazement and admiration at all the magnificence
that the mind and industry of man had created here
in so short a time.

When I raved about the beauty of the women of
the Golden Gate (for intermingling of races, Anglo-
Saxon and Spanish, Mexican and German, had
created here a most perfect type of human being),
my old friend smiled in sad, ironical memory, and
said : " Yes, the San Franciscan is now able to revel in
the most luxuriant beauty of women, but then — good
Heavens ! Hundreds of them had to make shift
with one, who could not be reckoned as most beautiful.
When a woman decided to live amongst us savages,
she had to be — well, let us say ' unprejudiced ' ! For
this, however, we treated her like a queen, and all
the men, without exception, willingly became her
slaves. All this was only changed when the great
stream of emigrants came over here from the East,
with wife and child, and few possessions. Each new
caravan was greeted with delight. They even brought

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

young girls with them, so the clergymen belonging to
the Mission soon had their hands full with marriages
and christenings. Soon the most charming little villas
and gardens sprang up in the newly-levelled ground ;
and sometimes in the midst of all this creative energy
one felt as if one were a magician in a fairy tale."

My old doctor told me all this, and how he
had come out here in the early 'forties as a poor
adventurous German student, and in consequence of
his luck in gold-digging had long since become a
prosperous and respected physician. It was in the
glamour of his description that the legendary magic
of San Francisco's uprising was woven for me ; no
rebuilding of it, I said, could ever restore the lost
glory.

The destruction of the wonderful city, with whose
brilliancy and magnificence no other city in the world
can be compared, was to me like the loss of a beloved
being ; for me an ideal world has departed with it.

The doctor told me another amusing story of
those days. When the gold fever was abating, a
tremendous swindle was thought out by inventive
brains ; some people returned from the so-called
" Pebble Bay," in a state of great delight. They
said they had found precious stones en brut there,
especially sapphires and rubies, strewn about like
shells amongst the pebbles. They showed their finds,
and the result was that a fever broke out among the
people far greater than that of the gold-washing.
Everybody rushed there ; societies were formed ;
stones were found — yes, a good many ; but after two
years, in spite of digging, washing, and seeking, every
trace of them disappeared.

It turned out that the whole thing was a colossal
fraud, though cleverly planned. A small company
bought brut stones to the value of about 2,000,000
marks, strewed them carefully on the ground among
the pebbles, and then encouraged a few innocent
people who had discovered them to spread the news.

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SAN FRANCISCO

They soon regained their 2,000,000 marks, as the
" claims " were sold very high, but the clever gold-
diggers did not allow themselves to be taken in as
much as they had calculated. The swindle was dis-
covered too soon, and resulted, I fancy, in the hang-
ing and lynching of some of the originators.

The new country became civilised with astonishing
rapidity. Very soon the rough plots of ground were
ornamented with fine streets and beautiful buildings.
San Francisco blossomed into the most elegant and
fascinating town in the States. Universities and
churches, hotels and means of communication, all
grew with the suddenness and splendour that is only
possible in America, and especially in California.

In the founding of all this, old Ahlers played a
very great part, and so rose to be one of the most
prominent personages.

As I have already said, he took a fatherly interest
in me, and it was principally due to him that I learnt
to know the country and the people on the borders
of the Pacific during my stay there.

I visited with him the splendid charitable institu-
tions, the orphanages, almshouses, hospitals, and con-
valescent homes, which were scattered about in
park-like surroundings on the hills around the Bay
of San Francisco.

They are unique in their comfort and situation.
One might almost consider it a happiness to be
orphaned, aged, poor, or sick here !

Even to-day I remember with a kind of envy the
so-called " poor " yonder in the earthly paradise called
California.

Until now I had only known the dry season, but
people were already raving to me what the heavenly
" Bay " would be like when the rainy weather set in.
This blessed country knows no winter, but during a
few months the people hope for a plentiful rainfall,
which transforms, as if with a magician's wand, the
whole country into a sea of flowers. At other times,

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

their need of a damper atmosphere is only supplied
by the cool sea winds, which rise twice a day, and
cool the air considerably from four to six o'clock in
the afternoon. There are four crops of strawberries
and asparagus in San Francisco, a fairyland for
connoisseurs !

Well, the longed-for moment of rain arrived.
The huge drops of water fell from the quickly-
gathering clouds. One day of rain, then three fine
ones — this is the winter of those blessed plains !

During these particularly beautiful days we went
on a favourite excursion, which I liked doing over
and over again. The way lay through the wonderful
Golden Gate Park to the Sea Lions' Rock, and for
many hours we drove through tropical vegetation.

In the midst of the foaming surf of the Pacific's
long and majestic waves, there stands a rock which
belongs to the seals. The giant seals here have been
protected by Government for many years, and gambol
like young dogs. Amidst a droning and bellowing
that drowns the noise of the surf beyond the rock,
with the spray dashing against it, a magnificent hotel
was built, on the verandah of which one could sit
comfortably shielded, and watch the fine spectacle.
All of this is now destroyed.

Farther out, the lighthouse watches over the
Golden Gate ; and on the right, mountains shut in
the wonderful Bay from the open sea.

I could sit there for hours, and never tire of
admiring this splendid natural picture, and the ever-
changing gambols of the seals as they swam through
the surging flood, like mermaids out of Andersen's
fairy tales ; or sometimes landed on the rocks, when
they were transformed into clumsy monsters, using
their fins to climb up the steep rocks in order to
snooze in the sun ; or again, when annoyed by it, to
dash headlong into the flood with a bound which
seemed to court death. It is a picture that holds
one spellbound, and exists nowhere else in the world

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SAN FRANCISCO

The most fashionable people of San Francisco
assembled in the hotel during the afternoon and on
beautiful moonlight nights. Here everything that the
monde of the factitious society life could imagine
in splendour and magnificence, vied with that which
the natural world offered. It was a unique picture,
this gleaming San Francisco, embracing the highest
civilisation and the greatest glories of nature.

Yet, amidst all the light and brightness, there
was one dark and uncanny corner — " Chinatown " —
and when I read of the ghastly scenes that took place
there during the earthquake with dagger and revolver,
I had to remember what I had heard once remarked,
as it may possess a possible interest for others. I am
referring, of course, to "Chinatown."

As already stated, my attention had been drawn
to the remarkable pigtail- wearers on my journey to
California. My interest in the yellow emigrants was
increased when at my old friend's, Dr. Ahler's, I
learnt to know his servant, or, as he jokingly called
him, his housekeeper.

He had served the doctor and the friend who
lived with him for many years alone. Both European
gentlemen had no other servants in the charming
little villa, and were waited on in the most ideal
way. The house was kept scrupulously clean, and
" Jimmy," as all Chinamen are nicknamed over there,
did the cooking, washing, cleaning, and waited in a
most perfect way !

And how the house was looked after ! How he
cooked, washed, cleaned, and waited ! After some
time he cooked for me also, as I did not like the food
anywhere else. He prepared splendid little dinners, at
which rice in every conceivable form played a part.
When I once asked for a real Chinese meal, then
indeed awful things appeared, but my old friend had
reserve supplies, so that we were not obliged to curb our
hunger with fish prepared in syrup, and sweet sugared
chickens, or salted oranges.

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

During one of these dinners, and his silent
attendance, I questioned this very intelligent " Jim "
on many things, and was informed that he was here
in America in order to save six hundred dollars ;
then he was returning to China. For one hundred
dollars he could buy himself a better wife (cheaper
ones were not much good, he said) ; for five hundred
dollars he could buy and stock a nice little business,
and then he would be a made man. Just now he spent
his nights learning the second class of writing ; there
are four of these classes. Every Chinaman learnt
the first, the higher classes only learnt the third, and
the fourth is only permitted to be used by mandarins
and the royal family. The second was sufficient to
earn a certain consideration for those who knew it.
Jimmy enlightened me freely on many subjects. It
was only when I touched on religion that he remained
silent. Silence is the greatest weapon of the Chinese
in America. If in a court of justice witnesses are
called up against a member of the celestial kingdom,
the only answer one can obtain is, " No under-
standee," or a dead silence, and the putting on of an
idiotic expression. This behaviour is the despair of
the American courts of justice, as when no other
than Chinese witnesses are called a crime can hardly
ever be proved. Our Jimmy did the same thing
whenever we questioned him about his religious
convictions and customs, especially when I dared to
mention the holy name of Confucius, or, as he
pronounced it, " Con-fu-zee-ee."

He repeated the word in his own fashion, and his
expression then grew more and more reserved and
stony ; his eyes glazed, and he was silent, as only an
Asiatic knows how to be silent.

Of course this strange behaviour only roused my
interest to the highest pitch.

I had already visited the Chinese theatre with
Semper and other friends who, like most people
settled in San Francisco, were the happy possessors

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SAN FRANCISCO

of a Chinese servant. I had, however, been most
unpleasantly struck by the infernal noise made by the
instruments used there. I had never been able to
stand it for long, in spite of the magnificent costumes.
One could never understand anything, because a
Chinese tragedy always plays on through many years,
therefore one can hardly gather anything from their
action. The actors, according to our notions, strike
us as rough, grimacing, and unnatural, on account of
their grotesquely painted faces ; also their scenery
and other adjuncts are too naive ; a table with chairs
piled upon it represents a mountain, and if the actors
climb over it, they mean to represent the traversing
of a mountain pass. Wild shrieks and clashing of
swords mean a battle, etc. The play lasts un-
interruptedly for twenty-four hours !

I now come to an extraordinary peculiarity of the
children of the sun. They did not seem to require
any sleep. One sees them during every hour of the
day or night — the big merchants sitting in their
heavy silken garments before their reckoning machines
and writing down profits here and there, as also the
smallest business people, laundrymen and so forth,
always busily ironing in their white linen garments.
All these eccentricities interested me very much, and
I resolved to study most minutely the Chinese town
in the heart of San Francisco. My old friend Ahlers
thought that this would only be possible at night,
and this wasn't the thing for him at his age. I could
only hope to understand everything thoroughly if I
took a detective with me, who was well acquainted
with Chinatown, and under his protection descended
with him into the midst of their activities. For this
purpose we would take tea beforehand in some better-
class tea-house. At twelve o'clock the detective was
to take me in charge, and I was to enter, disguised,
the portals of hell. In this first-class tea-house sat
charming Americans with their lady friends in superb
evening toilettes, next to rich Chinamen in costly

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

brocade garments, either alone or in couples. They
do not bring their wives to foreign countries, and look
contemptuously at the Westerns who thus openly
expose their wives and daughters to the public gaze.
The only Chinese women in San Francisco are those
in brothels ; these are prostitutes of the lowest order,
and semi-imprisoned there. But of these later.

The only exception was a rich merchant who had his
wife and sister with him. These two ladies, in spite
of their strict Chinese garments and coiffure, led an
absolutely Western life, to the horror of their com-
patriots. They kept governesses for the English
language, music, declamation and French. I learnt
more of their manners and customs from one of
their governesses, to whom I shall refer by and by.
The dignified and quiet demeanour of the Orientals,
who seem to have relegated all noise to their theatres,
contrasted pleasantly in the restaurant with the loud
tones and laughter of the Europeans.

After a meal, consisting of an original sort of dish
prepared with fish and rice (sometimes not ill-tasting),
I gave myself into the hands of the detective with
whom I had made friends the previous day. We
began our wanderings with the inspection of the
lodging-houses.

If my guide had not been recommended to me by
Dr. Ahlers himself, and been stated by him to be
perfectly trustworthy, I think I should already have
given up the expedition, as this beginning of things
was so uncanny and unappetising.

We went up and down pitch-dark staircases
illuminated only by the lantern of my companion,
who recommended me from the first to pick my
skirts up high and hold them close together.

Everything here was sticky, untidy, and slimy.
One slipped about on a gelatinous floor, to land
finally after endless ups and downs into a wide dark
courtyard. Here small coal - fires were burning
beneath kettles, around which cowered a strange

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SAN FRANCISCO

company of Chinese, young and old, their legs
crossed under them in true Oriental fashion. They
looked at us indifferently ; we appeared to them in
their own dwellings despicable beings — not human ;
followers neither of Confucius nor of Buddha. They
scarcely spoke among themselves, $nd, from what I
could see, threw all kinds of filth, looking like frogs
and snakes, into their kettles, or pulled remarkable
titbits out of them, then placed them in little vessels,
and devoured them cleverly with their little ivory
chop-sticks. The only drink was tea, which each one
prepared in his small cup without a handle. The
whole made a disgusting impression on me, and when
the detective proposed to visit the big house to see
the people's sleeping apartments, I refused decisively.
The offensive smell, this uncovered courtyard, and the
slippery stairs had satisfied my curiosity.

From here we turned to the opium dens, to those
where the better classes gave themselves up to the
enjoyment of the drug, and also to those of the lower
classes. A nice young Chinaman led us to the
houses of the former, and seemed to treat my
companion with respectful awe, for although the
latter did not wear exactly a policeman's uniform,
the shield on his breast, and the club hanging by his
side, also the revolver which was distinctly visible
beneath his coat, testified to his power. He was a
well-known visitor to all these dens of vice, and one
whom they half feared, and yet were half pleased to
see, as he understood how to take them.

In this better-class opium den the couches were
covered with clean linen, and in many respects similar
to the poorer ones, which latter I shall presently
describe.

These couches were shallow, with only a thin
pillow for the head, and separated from each other
by Chinese screens. In each room there were two
or three couches, not placed one over the other ; nor
were the opium smokers served by one man alone as

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

in the poorer quarters. I could only see the arrange-
ments here, not the smokers. The rooms were dimly
lighted by paper lanterns.

Our next visit was more interesting, as it was to
the real opium dens. The detective knocked in a
peculiar manner at the door of a miserable house, and
a horrible - looking old Chinaman put out his head,
and whispered softly to my companion.

At a hint from my guide, I gave the old man a
dollar, whereupon he opened the door and let us
through an unspeakably filthy passage to the den of
opium smokers.

At first I fell back, as the smell that greeted me
took away my breath — the opium fumes, the un-
washed men of the yellow race, who, like all human
races, have their especial and to others often repulsive
smell — in short, a vapour which aroused one's disgust
in the highest degree. This was intensified by a low-
burning oil-lamp, and the smoke of the glimmering
coals which were always in readiness for the opium
pipes.

Imagine three or four beings lying one above the
other on narrow planks — like railway beds with hard
mattresses — each long and wide enough to accom-
modate one man ; the rooms in which planks are
arranged are about twenty feet long.

Here the smokers lay in all degrees of opium intoxi-
cation, above and behind each other. Those who were
still awake looked at us with half-cunning glances,
and two of them began to converse with me at once.

" Had I ever smoked opium ? "

"No, never!"

"Well, you ought to try a pull." He handed me
a pipe which had just been filled.

My detective explained to me that this was a
great civility, and I must not refuse. The old Chinese
serving-man took the little pipe, put a new mouth-
piece on it, and blew up the coals. The thing looks
like a reed penholder, upon which one has put a small

328

SAN FRANCISCO

inkstand. This contains about a thimbleful of opium
rosin, that is vaporised by the glowing coals and
emptied by a few whiffs.

I was afraid of the sickness which always accom-
panies the first smoke, took the little pipe, pretended
it was impossible for me to learn how to use it — I
preferred giving the pleasant host a dollar in thanks
— and looked at the rest of those who were present.
They lay in every imaginable pose, with glassy staring
eyes, their hands hanging down ; from these the old
Chinaman took the little pipes, which were no longer
needed, murmuring softly. They were all sallow,
with a death -like flabby skin, and dirty linen blouses,
and with black teeth showing in their open mouths.
It was a disgusting sight.

As I was walking through the rows, and passed
my first hospitable acquaintance, he lay already reeling
ecstatically. However, he still knew me, and assured
me there was no higher felicity than that in which he
now was.

The detective told me that most of them who
pursued their vice here only indulged in it a few
hours during the night ; others again only worked
sufficiently to gain the few cents necessary to still
the craving of their opium hunger, and passed nearly
the whole of the twenty-four hours in the pestilential
hole. They soon perished, and only then were able to
rejoice their fatherland by presenting it with their
pigtails.

For if a Chinaman dies in a foreign country, and
does not possess the means to have his body trans-
ported to China, the pigtail must go back ; otherwise
his soul is lost. Every year many coffins, encased in
bright boxes and full of pigtails, were returned to the
sacred Empire of the sun.

From this den of vice we proceeded to the next —
to the wretched Chinese women who here served as
filles de joie to the lowest of their countrymen and to
oriental sailors.

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PRINCESS HELENS VON RACOWITZA

We halted before miserable wooden huts, and my
guide had also for these doors a peculiar, very char-
acteristic knock. The door was held ajar, and a
hideous old Chinawoman peeped through the chink.
As soon as she recognised the detective, she opened
the door wide enough to admit of our slipping in.
Darkness enfolded us, and only in the distance a few
paper lanterns showed us the way to the "inner
apartments."

The creatures that lay here on planks which were
arranged similarly to those in the opium dens, and
who were waiting for business, were no women — they
were animals, poor, ugly, wretched animals, looking as
such, treated as such, behaving as such.

I had asked the detective to remain outside, as it
was painful to me to look at all this in the presence
of a man ; and as the prostitutes neither spoke nor
understood English, a terrible old woman had to act
as interpreter.

The girls were, according to my idea, repulsively
ugly ; their hair was carefully dressed in the Chinese
fashion, and they were clad in a short coloured cotton
gown like a shirt ; but like all Chinese men and
women, they had very delicate little hands and feet.
But their bodies !

The old woman presented them to me as one
does animals at the cattle-market, and not for a
moment did I imagine I had human beings before
me — at the best they seemed like apes, for they
looked like them ! Their bodies, clean shaven of all
hair, had all the characteristics of the ape. Withal
they looked worn and badly nourished. In a word,
it was a pitiful sight. When, at the end of the show,
I laid a few dollars on the table, they all thanked me,
including the old one, as if I had bestowed a royal
gift on them.

I must remark that the police take rather rigid
measures to enforce the scum of the Chinese popula-
tion to make use only of these Chinese brothels,

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SAN FRANCISCO

because on the American side they fear that the
Chinamen, by sexual connection with Americans,
might spread among them their horrible diseases such
as leprosy, syphilis, and elephantiasis.

I know that this night I returned in the deepest
disgust from my visit to Chinatown, and I had only
gone there to study the depths of human vice and
destitution. I did not wonder so much later on,
reading all the horrible deeds said to have been
committed by the Chinese during the earthquake,
for even the lower classes of San Francisco behaved
in those days of terror like wild beasts — they could
not belie their ancestors, they remained "wild
fellows " in spite of the forty or fifty years of civilisa-
tion they had gone through. I could more easily
understand murders and thefts from corpses which the
Chinese committed during the time of the holocaust.

It was otherwise in the dainty, clean houses of the
rich Chinese and big merchants. I visited some of
their warehouses, and here I was received with all
token of honour and esteem. I admired the gigantic
bales of tea as much as the costly stuffs and em-
broideries.

I was studying then for the English stage, which
I wished to join, and took lessons in the special
pronunciation needed for this with an American.

This extremely nice woman also taught English
to the above-mentioned two Chinese girls ; and when
she heard how interested I was in everything Chinese,
she spoke of me to the two ladies, and they asked me
to accompany her there on a visit.

I accepted the invitation with pleasure. I found
two real specimens of Chinese ladies, with little
crippled feet which permitted them only a painful
and swaying gait. They were dressed in beautiful
silken garments, had ugly yellow faces, but very
amiable, educated, and civilised manners.

The parlour in which they received me was
arranged more in American than Chinese fashion, yet

331

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

the matting on which they squatted was not wanting ;
there were also low inlaid tables, lovely embroideries,
and nicknacks of all kinds.

We conversed together quite pleasantly for an
hour, and their servant offered me tea and sweets,
both of which were exceptionally good. The prepara-
tion of the tea was here, as also in the tea-houses,
totally different from that which we are used to, even
in Russia — the tea-drinking country par excellence.

The Chinese use no teapot ; a pinch of tea is put
into the bowls without handles, boiling water poured
upon it, another bowl placed quickly over it, and the
very light and aromatic tea is then poured out through
the chink of the two bowls into a third one, ready for
the purpose, and taken without any addition of sugar,
cream, or lemon — pure essence of tea.

My studies here offered me a picture of the far
East in the extreme West — interesting from many
points of view, but on the whole rather revolting to
European ideas, especially at that time, where one
had not yet reached the " modern " pitch of beholding
the pink of perfection in Eastern art, but was rather
inclined to regard its painting, and other creations of
its artists, more like curiosities. These one looked at
perhaps with a certain interest, but as an outsider, as
was the case with me, in the house of these rich
Chinese. Certainly I looked with interest, but with no
special sympathy, at their peculiarities — at themselves
and their costly clothing, their thousand valuable
nicknacks, embroideries, and wood-carvings.

The night in Chinatown filled me with such horror
even on the following morning, that I joyfully agreed
when my old friend, Dr. Ahlers, proposed spending
the day in the bright, blossoming villa settlement of
Oakland. We crossed the magnificent arm of the sea,
and even now, on looking back to that day, my heart
is filled with light and joy. It was in truth a settle-
ment of villas nestling in blossoms. Yes, one's
rejoicing soul could discover there everything that

332

SAN FRANCISCO

meant blooms and flowers in this world. Here were
palms and tea-bushes, flourishing side by side with
every fruit-tree as yet known to us. The tiniest
garden represented a miniature Eden illuminated by
the sun in the dark blue sky, the silver sea sparkled,
and the soft gentle winds blew over all this tropical
and northern flora, wafting to us with every breath a
perfume of flowers and intoxicating scents.

How glad I am that the catastrophe spared this
marvellous corner of the earth, lovely Oakland, and
that this truly hospitable land of the gods could offer a
peaceful and protecting refuge to poor and trembling
fugitives when this wonderful city was reduced in a
few hours to dust and ashes. At that time, where in
Oakland only dainty villas rested in their peaceful
gardens, it conjured up the illusion that this restless
world still held peace and true happiness.

Directly after the earthquake, new business houses
sprang up and banks built their branches here. In
the reports it was said that " Oakland is blossoming
out!"

My heart is almost as heavy at the idea of this
as it is at the destruction of old "'Frisco." Once
more I repeat : Would that I could show others this
wonderful creation of man, as it then existed on the
shores of the Pacific Ocean — just as it was permitted
to me to behold it at that time ! Everywhere then,
in spite of the elegance of the buildings, one saw
the naive want of taste of its founders, and despite
the millions expended on them, palatial buildings
were placed side by side with some construction
evolved from the untrained fantasy of its builder. I
cannot do it, for words can paint but insufficiently
that which the enchanted eye quickly communicated
to the receptive mind.

333

CHAPTER XXXVII

In describing all these delights of California, I have
quite forgotten to talk of the reason which actually
took me there. Let me now say at least a few words
about it. The manager of the German theatre there
was the clever Ottilie Gende — sister of Rudolph
Gen£e. She had understood how to combine a splendid
ensemble, composed of Germans who had settled there,
and all kinds of first-class touring artists, whom she
always engaged for several months, as it would other-
wise not have been worth while, considering the
expensive journey.

She herself, a very good actress, schooled her
troupe dexterously, and gave farces, comedy, drama,
and also great tragedies in quite good style. Thus
the little German art institute contributed greatly to
keep the German spirit in the far West in touch with
the literature of the old country, and to offer com-
patriots a place where they could regard each other
as brethren with a common native tongue and customs.

Their theatre now also lies in ruins.

With a heavy heart I at last left the Golden
Gate which had become so dear to me.

Taking a final farewell of the splendours I had
beheld, I drove away from eternal spring to the cold
bleak winter of Minnesota.

My longing, however, remained eternally with the
wonderful Bay, and I always hoped one day to be
able to make my beloved San Francisco my final home.

334

THE AMERICAN STAGE

At that time, in consequence of my stage triumphs,
I had been advised by English actors and directors to
quit the German- American stage, and to devote my-
self completely to the art of the English-American
one, as the celebrated Fanny Yanuschek and a Pole —
Madame Modjeska — had done before me.

As neither of these actresses spoke perfect English,
but were nevertheless covered with gold and laurels
by the Americans, and as I, with little study, could
easily acquire more perfect English than theirs, I
resolved to follow this well-meant advice.

I was tired of playing in the West to a public
consisting of shoemakers, brewers and bakers, who
composed its chief elements, with the few exceptions
of the more educated ones who had drifted hither
and formed in St. Louis a little circle of refugees in
1848.

They were not the people before whom to play
drawing-room roles and delicate French comedies ;
they liked to see me play in my beautiful Parisian
gowns, but I never got in touch with them, as they
had no understanding for the finer nuances with
which one was able to achieve the greatest effect in
Berlin and Vienna.

I evoked more applause with a little shrieking and
weeping than with the cleverest finesse in conversa-
tion, which was my strong point.

We made a little joke that all these people were
more at home in a saloon than in a salon.

On the English- American stage it is otherwise.
Even there they have no very appreciative public
for fine comedy, but in every town of the States
there is a certain circle of educated people, large
enough to fill the theatres once or twice a week.

The only permanent theatre existing at that time
in the States was in New York City, where the
"star" system is driven to its extreme, but where
there is much money to be made.

In these ** star " companies there is, as a general

335

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

rule, only one actor and actress of any note, the others
are below mediocrity. But among the American
"stars" I have found some truly phenomenal ones.
I consider Mrs. Clara Morris as one of the most
genial actresses I have ever seen on any stage or
in any country. She did not possess much art, but
her passion was altogether elementary. She had a
power of speech and gesture that carried one away,
although this little woman was at death's door with
spinal disease and consumption.

She had neither beauty nor elegance — only a pair
of wonderfully eloquent, big grey eyes, with which
to conquer the hearts of the people.

Her genius simply overwhelmed one. I have
never before or since seen anything like it, and yet
often in the midst of a scene she was obliged to stop
on account of pain ; a famous medicine was given
her, and then she was able to continue.

How one applauded her, and what power she had
of moving her public !

I will relate here — even if I anticipate a little —
why I gave up my idea of entering into competition
with these great English actresses.

I had already received offers from several first-
class managers in case I had a repertoire ready in the
English language. I picked out Max Strakosch,
who was then the best impresario, and whom I knew
and found very sympathetic. We had already
arranged for several tours, and I was ready with a
number of roles. About a year later we sat in Herr
Strakosch's office in New York to sign the contract —
he, myself, and my husband, Serge von Schewitsch—
when the latter said with his usual quiet manner,
"That is all very well, but I demand that my wife
returns to me every six weeks for a fortnight— other-
wise I will not give my consent to the contract."
Tableau ! Then Strakosch put down his pen and said,
" That ends the matter, for this is as impossible as fly-
ing. We might be somewhere in the West, and you

336

LOVE OF DOGS

would expect me to bring back your wife to her
spouse's loving arms and sacrifice so many thousand
dollars to your heart ! No, dear sir ! " And turning
to me, " And what does the person most concerned
in the matter say ? "

I laughed and said, " Very well, then, I will wait
a little while. After all I did not come to America
to make dollars and star tours ; but it is right to
stay with him — therefore we will remain together,
and give up the other thing."

We then wandered home happily, the poorer as
regards the dollar harvest, but the happier at heart.
So ended my English stage dream I
I must mention a little adventure which took
place in San Francisco.

I am, as I often said, a great lover of dogs, and
have a great preference amongst the dear four-footed
creatures for the breed of Skye terrier, a little dog
that comes from the Isle of Skye, to the north of
Scotland, with an elongated body. In this it
resembles the dachshund, as in its whole build, its
crooked broad feet, and long head ; only the ears
stand upright, and the entire body is covered with
beautiful long, silky hair, which touches the ground,
and often hides the eyes and nose. The Skyes are
strikingly intelligent and faithful.

My friend Ahlers told me of the possibility of
getting a blue one, that is, a kind of grey-blue, and
we drove to the slaughter-house, as a German butcher
was said to be the happy possessor of it !

The dog was charming and quite young, and I
bought it for the awful price of 75 dollars. The
master-butcher said he was delighted to make my
acquaintance, after having seen me on the stage, and
wishing to please me said, " Had I ever seen an ox
slaughtered ? "

"No, I had not!"

To the amusement of my friend, the gallant
butcher forced me to accompany him to his slaughter-

337 z

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

house. I must say I was astonished at its large
scale and cleanliness, also at the absolute absence of
cruelty of the whole proceeding. The floor and
walls were so clean that one could have taken one s
meals there. The animal (for only the one condemned
to be slaughtered was visible) was led forward with
bandaged eyes ; one mighty blow of a hammer, and
it fell on the ground. I sprang up, and did not want
to look at anything else. The butcher then told me
the ox was completely senseless, but I refused any
more of this form of civility, which the doctor
declared had not yet fallen to the lot of any stage

star.

A short time after that my little dog preserved
me from great danger.

We two, he and I, were sleeping quietly one
night, when I was awakened by the low growling of
"Hexi" (the little dog). I tried to pacify it, but
found its whole body trembling. I thought of
burglars, and struck a light, but saw nothing, and the
little animal c®ntinued barking angrily at the chest
of drawers. What can describe my horror when I
saw a movement of the lid of the case containing the
boa constrictor ! I seized my Hexi and rushed out
of the bed and room, shutting the door at the very
moment that the heavy stone rolled on to the ground.
I ran upstairs in tearing haste, and knocked at Herr
Fischer's bedroom door. "The snake, the snake!
Quick, quick!" I called. He answered leisurely,
"Ah, what is it?"

" It is awake and coming out."

" Impossible ! It is asleep and cannot awaken
yet."

" Well, you will see ! Make haste 1 "

He now drew his enormous boots on, and seizing
the big leather sack used for catching snakes rushed
downstairs, and arrived at the right moment to catch
the monster in the sack just when it was letting
itself down from the chest of drawers to the ground.

338

FAREWELL TO SAN FRANCISCO

Terrible excitement prevailed. The wife and son
came as well, and the explanation of the snake's
irregular behaviour was, that I had had a fire lit on
that cold and rainy afternoon. The warmth of the
fire had aroused the monster from his winter torpor,
and the lid and stone proved too weak to prevent its
exit. Had it not been for my little dog, it is probable
that I should have been favoured and perhaps
annihilated by its first embrace.

And now farewell, heavenly Bay of the Golden
Gate ! The way now lies eastward to the cold, grim
winter of Minnesota, where a long touring engagement
calls me, which is to end at Milwaukee. But I was
going as well towards the reunion with my heart's
beloved, Serge.

He in the meantime had experienced good and
bad times in New York. The terrible news had
reached him that the Tsar (at that time Alexander
II.) had sequestrated his possessions and fortune, and
that he could not expect another rouble from home.

That was a hard blow. It happened because he
had left the service of the State without a permit,
and the country without a passport. I must at once
add that after some years his eldest brother, who was
Governor of Livland, succeeded in getting the
sequester transferred to a guardianship ; and as the
brother himself was named guardian, matters were
alleviated later on, thanks to this excellent man.
We had a hard life during these first years. It was
a continual struggle for existence, for we could only
rely on what we earned for ourselves.

Serge had been obliged to live most economically
for some time. The Russo-Turkish war was over,
and with it the regular income he derived from the
English papers ; and he was not yet sufficiently
schooled in journalism to be able to feel at home in
all departments, after only nine months' stay in
America. Added to this, he was deeply depressed

339

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

at finding himself alone after all the great sacrifices
he had made, without friends, without family, far
from home — and without the woman for whose sake
he had left everything.

I read his state of mind from his letters, and
resolved, therefore, to end this parting, which was
useless. We agreed to meet on the way, and,
delighted with the prospect, I went to Chicago.

On the journey the beautiful Salt Lake presented
its exquisite picture to me once more ; it was a cold,
clear, winter morning, and the lake lay in deepest
blue, surrounded by snow-tipped mountains, which
were tinted by the rosy glow of the rising sun. It
reminded me of the Lake of Geneva in clear winter
weather. It was on this journey that I witnessed an
appalling disaster, which I have spoken of more fully
in my Theosophical work, Wie ich mein Selbstfand,
which appeared under a pseudonym, " Von einer
Occultist in."

A young girl in our train threw herself out of the
window of the ladies' lavatory, and was brought back
to the sleeping-car in a terrible condition.

A doctor was travelling with her, as she was
supposed to be unhinged in her mind. She had
already tried to commit suicide, so the doctor told
me, because the man she loved was dead. Her
parents were sending her to relations in Chicago in
order to turn her thoughts to other things.

I helped the doctor to bandage and put the
unfortunate girl to bed, although he shook his head
despairingly and said there was nothing to be done.
The poor creature only regained consciousness after
some hours. Her first glance fell on me, and perhaps
that was why she took such a fancy to me. She
would only take nourishment from me, and I alone was
allowed to arrange her pillows and rugs comfortably
for. her.

We took her to Chicago in a dying state. She
was suffering fearful agony, and was covered with one

340

AMERICAN NEWSPAPERS

of my cloaks. Her beautiful large blue eyes rested
on me gratefully. She declared that since she first
looked on me she had felt bathed in light and love.

This sad experience was effaced by the happy
meeting, after so many weeks of parting, with Serge,
who appeared suddenly in my drawing-room car a
few stations earlier than I had expected.

He surprised me with the news that he could
remain with me quietly for a long time, as a secure
future lay before him.

It had been decided in New York to found the
f r olkszeitu?ig, which even now has such a success.
Serge was consulted about it, and his eminent
journalistic talent was quickly perceived.

The first number was to appear in three months ;
and he had been chosen as editor of the Sunday
paper, a speciality much favoured by all newspaper
proprietors, and devoted to literary and artistic
purposes.

During the week the American has just sufficient
time to read his personal telegrams, but on Sunday
— the dullest day in all Anglo-Saxon countries — he
wants to be amused all day if possible by his news-
paper, hence the immense Sunday editions, which
resemble a book.

The salaries of the new undertaking were not,
and are not, exactly brilliant, according to American
ideas, as the Volkszeitung was founded by voluntary
contributions from the New York union of German
workmen, but it seemed sufficient ; and above all, at
first it was a sure foundation. So we were pleased
in every way, and calm and happy. There is nothing
very important to relate of the stay in Milwaukee.
I played with tremendous success before crowded
houses, and I had something very unusual in German
theatres in America, that is, excellent partners in
the acting. These were, Director Franz Kirschner
(formerly of the Hofburg Theatre Royal in Vienna,
who later on was a favourite for many years at the

341

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Deutsches Theater in Berlin), and Emil von der
Osten, who acted in Dresden as leading lover, and
who was one of the handsomest men I remember,
and an amiable and talented artist.

Our acting together was so appreciated that at
the end of the season at Milwaukee we resolved
definitely to engage several colleagues, and tour
together as a company in the big cities of the U.S.A.

We were right in this, and were rewarded by the
best of results.

This experience, despite its success, only strength-
ened my conviction that, for my temperament, the
German- American stage was not the 'right field.
The decision ripened in me more and more to go over
to the English stage.

I appeared triumphantly in Milwaukee when
playing the part of the Marquise Pompadour in
Narcisse, and in my mind's eye I saw myself
victorious, and blessed with riches through this
English career.

I have already narrated how this dream ended.
At that time it was still living, attracting me, and
elevating me.

We all went to Chicago and St. Louis in the spring.
Owing to the Exhibition, Chicago has been so often
described of late that I can refrain from repetition.
It made on us, as we did not see it in its exhibi-
tion array, quite a horrible impression. It is the
type of everything that grates on the nerves of the
refined European, and is truly American in the chase
for dollars, in the ugliness of its buildings, the dirt
and noise of the streets ; everything in this rush and
din is unsesthetic. I was glad when we got away from
the chaos of this centre of industry, and arrived at
the distant, peaceful St. Louis, situated, with its
charming parks, on the Mississippi.

Immediately on my arrival in the hotel a porter
informed me that a gentleman had often called
inquiring for me, and the day on which I might be

342

ST. LOUIS

looked for. The same was repeated to me by the
original theatre manageress : " A gentleman had
several times asked at the box-office if I had not yet
arrived ! "

I racked my brain as to whom this person might be,
for I did not know a single soul in all these cities in
the interior of the continent. Of course I was
accustomed to reporters, who often in the middle of
a train journey (especially when I was travelling from
San Francisco) got in — took out their instruments of
torture, namely, pencil and paper, and in the manner
of an inquisition, put together their interview.

"But," said the manageress, "he did not look like
an interviewer."

I referred to her before as being " original," and I
can only pity all who never saw her. She was a
most worthy woman, and a good actress according to
German- American Western ideas, and her husband
was just as remarkable. Both of them were like
figures out of Holtei's Vagabonds come to life.

The Directress was a huge woman, dressed always
in flashy colours or bold tartans. She wore enormous
hats enthroned on a mighty coiffure.

The tiny little Herr Director, with his head of
long curly hair, generally wore a Spanish mantle
thrown over his shoulder or hanging down. Both of
them had a majestic theatrical gait, but, as already
mentioned, they were good-natured people, according
to Western convictions, and not unskilful managers.

I was hardly established in the hotel when the
waiter announced the gentleman who had so often
inquired for me.

On the threshold stood a tall man, with snow-
white hair and beard, and large blue eyes. He made
a very imposing impression.

The large blue eyes filled with tears as he looked
at me, and he said in a voice slightly quivering with
emotion, "So this is my little Helene 1"

1 must confess I was in deep embarrassment on

343

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

seeing this old and extremely sympathetic gentleman
before me thus, — as I had not the faintest idea who
he could be, where he might have come from, and
whence his emotion.

" My name is Dr. Nagel," he said. " Of course
this name will not convey much to you."

I shook my head uncomprehendingly — asked him
to be seated.

Now he related that he had been the most intimate
student friend of my father, and was as a brother to
my mother ; and that he, as assistant of our old family
doctor, had brought me into the world ; that later on
1 was his especial darling until I was three years of
age, and had always called him uncle Pinne — a student
nickname derived from Nagel (nail).

It now flashed through my memory. Onkel
Pinne. "Oh yes, I know it quite well," I exclaimed,
"although I ought to bear malice to you for bringing
me into the world." Yet I was delighted with all my
heart at finding Onkel Pinne again! "A thousand
thanks for having looked me up in such a way ! "

Serge also greeted him just as heartily, and an
hour later his whole family, which henceforth I
considered as my own, had gathered round us, his
dear old wife, who also had known me as a baby ; her
only son, and his charming, witty, American wife.
From that moment I was no longer alone in America.
They considered themselves as belonging to me during
my whole stay here. I should hardly have mentioned
this little episode, if Dr. Nagel's life in America had
not been such an interesting one. Now when we
found the dear old thing again, he was a highly
esteemed doctor and a rich man, who had been living
for years in St. Louis in his beautiful villa near the
park.

But he and his wife had a wild pioneer existence
behind them. As quite young people they had, when
I was still a baby, emigrated to Texas with little
money, but much courage. He had received a piece

344

DR. PRETORIUS

of land there gratuitously from the Government ; but
it was in a wild, inhospitable district. He himself,
with the help of a neighbour who had come there in
identical circumstances, built a house, and cultivated
a portion of the primeval forest for vegetables and
potatoes. The two brave young Germans had lived
there alone for ten years. There it was that their
boy was born ; there they taught him themselves, and
brought him up to be a good man. Once every year
the doctor rode into the neighbouring town. It was
a ride of many days, and he brought back a sack of
flour, a sack of sugar, and a little clothing material.

Everything else they made themselves. Yes,
the doctor's wife even made the shoes of the family
out of bast, linen, and leather !

Now one saw no trace of the rough pioneer life in
these refined people, whose every thought was noble.
Their house was the centre of all intellectual German
life, and first-class music was especially cultivated by
them. Their clever, dainty little daughter-in-law was
a piano-player of the highest order.

Another interesting house in St. Louis was that
of the editor of the Westliche Post, Dr. Pretorius,
a veteran of " forty-eight" He collected in his
beautiful house, which also was situated near the
park, chiefly his old compatriots of that time, many
of whom lived in Missouri city, and all that was
artistic and intellectual there.

I was received by his clever and cultivated wife
with open arms. I made the acquaintance here of
Fritz Hecker, the volunteer once so wild. He was a
tall, handsome old man, still full of life, and was one
of the most eminent men I had ever known.

We drew very near to each other intellectually,
and it was he who first advised me to take up literary
work. At this time, however, I had no confidence in
myself. Hecker was much respected and admired in
America for taking part in the Civil War, where he led
against the Northerners a regiment of his own ; he had

345

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

commanded himself until he was severely wounded.
Even in his then advanced old age one had to admire
his eloquence.

I visited him at his model farm, and saw how the
" world-stormer " had become a world philosopher,
and led an enviable life without, however, withdrawing
from his intellectual interests, which challenged
collaboration in politics and literature.

In the hospitable home of Pretorius I again found
Fanny Vanuschek, the famous tragedian ; and from
that time, in spite of her great age, a lasting bond
of friendship sprung up between us.

She was probably the most genial actress of any
country in the nineteenth century, not even excepting
the aforementioned American Mrs. Clara Morris,
who stood far below Fanny Vanuschek in the
artistic world, and did not possess the German's
charming voice, wherewith to render classical parts
in a similar way to the great tragedian.

Fanny had never been beautiful, even in her
youth — merely interesting ; but her impelling
presence, heightened by the power of her genius,
impressed every one of the audience, as probably no
personality of the stage has ever done before, not
even excepting Ristori.

Let one take into consideration that, at the time
I am speaking of, Vanuschek was well over fifty, and
at the age of fifty-three went on the English stage,
learning English only then. One always heard by
her strong accent that she was a foreigner, but
nevertheless she played roles such as Medea, Maria
Stuart, Briinnhilde (in a very poor translation). She
carried her American spectators, just as she did us
Germans, to the wildest pitch of enthusiasm.
Posterity, to which I relate this, though it does not
as a rule " weave laurels for the minstrel/' can have
no idea of the all-powerful genius of this wonderful
woman.

Unfortunately her fiery heart and temperament

346

FANNY VANUSCHEK

would not learn that " love " at a certain time of life
is not aesthetic, and only leads to unwise actions.
She married a man very much younger than herself,
who ran through all her considerable savings. Even
then she did not come to her senses, so that, "outliving
herself," she was compelled to act in minor theatres
to eke out her existence, and died in extreme poverty.

347

CHAPTER XXXVIII

During the first years of my American sojourn I
went every winter and spring on successful tours to
the theatres in the West I have already referred to.
My interest in this flagged, and I devoted myself
more and more to literary work, as Frederick Hecker
had advised me to.

I wrote for all the German- American papers, and
published Meine Beziehungen zu Ferdinand Lassalle,
and my novel Countess Vera (which first appeared
in the New York Puck, and which was brilliantly
remunerated) ; also I became a constant contributor
to the St. Louis Westliche Post, and theatrical critic
for the New York Volkszeitung.

I do not know if I have already mentioned it, but
our friends all tried to persuade Serge and myself
to get married, which in America does not require
much preparation. There, it is a ceremony that is
almost as simple to-day as it was at the beginning
of the nineteenth century. In every town and village
then a certain stone was erected, before which those
who resolved to get married appeared, and cere-
moniously vowed faithfully to cleave together and
protect each other for better for worse, and they
were considered as firmly bound as nowadays by
clerical or state bonds.

So we gave way to their sensible persuasions and
went, as we were spending the summer in the country,
to a judge there, who had the same power as any
priest or clergyman to solemnise marriages.

348

MARRIAGE WITH SERGE

There we were united for better for worse. The
ceremony consisted merely of the questions addressed
to us by the judge — who in our case was an old man
hardly able to write. He asked whether we had
not already been married elsewhere.

On hearing the negative answer, he read a legal
paragraph, which asks whether the couple is agreed
to cleave together for better for worse, and to promise
fidelity and protection. They say " Yes," and are
married. At this, they receive a scrap of paper on
which are written their names, and those of the judge
and two witnesses ; these one can call in simply from
the street, but in our case the witnesses were our
intimate friends Dr. Lilienthal and his wife. The
Doctor was the most respected man in New York.

This bald ceremony seemed to me very comical.
Could anything, clerical or of the state, knit us more
closely together than our great love ? It had already
led us through good and bad times, and it now stood
even this great test.

When now in my old age I look back on that
bright summer's day in the little village of New Jersey,
this is the only pathetic thing in the whole of that un-
poetical wedding ceremony. Later on this "wedding"
led to various unpleasantnesses. Of all this later.

When another time I returned from a town in
the West, my husband told me that during the
months of my absence he had struck up a close
friendship with a strange old compatriot of his, who
would interest me very much, a certain Helena
Petrowna Blavatsky.

I discovered in her the most remarkable being
(for one hardly dare designate her with the simple
name of woman). She gave me new life ; and indeed I
may say without exaggeration that she took possession
of the age.

I have described minutely our first acquaintance-
ship, and the time of her first sojourn in New York
in my book, Wie ich mein Selbst fand. Whoever,

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

therefore, is interested in this most remarkable of all
personalities, often styled the " Northern Sphinx," will
find details of her in the book just mentioned. A
repetition of my experiences with her would take up
too much space in this book, although by rights the
very first place is due to her.

My connection with Ferdinand Lassalle was the
first great event of my life ; it transformed a young
girl who, although of extraordinary individuality, was
bound at the same time by the closest family ties,
into a free, self-reliant being, one who was able
to fight alone against the prejudices of the world. It
threw her, so to speak, out of her own path, where
birth and education had placed her, and bestowed on
her a proud self- consciousness and absolute self-
reliance.

Now this wonderful woman, Madame H. P.
Blavatsky, although altering nothing in my character,
by her teachings (this was steeled and rendered in-
flexible in the fight against conventionalities) in-
fluenced me in my views of life and ideas on living.

She brought new life and new interest into my
existence by revealing to all who had the privilege of
coming into contact with her the ancient wisdom
and doctrines of India in its new form of Theosophy.
I do not speak now solely of myself, but of all those
who formed the circle around Madame Blavatsky.

She undertook, by her fiery descriptions, so full
of temperament, to illustrate to us the pure ethics
and doctrines of evolution ; to awaken our souls to
the highest development ; to urge us toward the
discovery of the Godhead within ourselves ; to foster
it, and thus to mature to the highest spiritual
development.

She taught us that which all religious doctrines
clothe merely in their exterior garment of Christianity,
or all philosophies with the jargon of their learned
teachers ; that which all bare material sciences of
unbelief had failed to teach.

350

MADAME BLAVATSKY

It would take volumes if I were to write the
doings, life, and doctrines of this wonderful woman.
I refer again to my book mentioned previously, and
will quote here only one passage from it :

Regarding her personal appearance, the head, which rose
from the dark flowing garments, was immensely characteristic,
although far more ugly than beautiful. A true Russian type,
with a wide forehead, a short thick nose, prominent cheek-bones,
a small, clever, mobile mouth with little fine teeth, brown and
very curly hair, at that time unstreaked with grey and almost
like that of a negro's ; a sallow complexion, but a pair of eyes
the like of which I had never seen — pale-blue, grey as water,
but with a glance deep and penetrating, and as compelling
as if it beheld the inner heart of things. Sometimes they
held an expression as though fixed on something afar, high
and immeasurably above all earthly things. Large, long,
beautiful eyes, which illuminated the curious face. She always
wore long, dark, flowing garments, and had ideally beautiful
hands.

All this describes the external appearance of
Helena Petrowna ; but this was such a secondary
consideration with her, that I give this picture merely
because, with our clumsy customs, we are only able
to imagine a personality if we can conjure up its
outward appearance.

It was easy enough to give this exterior picture ;
but how shall I attempt to describe the woman, to
give an insight into her being, her power, her
abilities and character ?

She was a combination of the most heterogeneous
qualities, and until her departure from this earthly
sphere, in 1891, she was attacked in the most
malicious manner by some people. By others she
was elevated high above everything, and by all she
was considered as a sort of Cagliostro or St. Germain.
She conversed with equal facility in Russian, English,
French, German, Italian, and certain dialects of
Hindustani, yet she lacked all positive knowledge —
even the most superficial European school-training.

In matters of social life she evinced a truly touching

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

naivete and ignorance. She possessed an irresistible
charm in conversation, that comprised chiefly an
intense comprehension of everything noble and great ;
and her really overflowing enthusiasm, joined to
the most original and often coarse humour, was a
mode of expression which was the comical despair of
prudish Anglo-Saxons.

Her contempt for, and rebellion against, all social
conventions made her sometimes appear even coarser
than was her wont, and she hated and fought conven-
tional lying with real Don Quixote -like courage.
But whoever approached her in poverty or rags,
hungry and needing comfort, could be sure to find in
her a warm heart and an open hand — more than with
most well-mannered, cultured people.

She and Colonel H. S. Olcott, the most faithful
of all her pupils, lived strictly in accordance with
Buddhistic teachings, and were absolute vegetarians.

No drop of wine, beer, or fermented liquors ever
passed their lips, and she had a most fanatical hatred
of everything intoxicating.

Her hospitality was genuinely Oriental. She
placed everything she possessed at the disposal of her
friends. With her this was such matter of course
that she never pressed any one.

Every one who was accepted by her as a friend
was free to come and stay, dine, or come and go as
they pleased. They did in fact exactly as they liked
within the limit of her given possibilities.

A little episode touching on our intimacy must be
cited here.

The President of the Theosophical Society in
India, who held the post for many years, was at that
period one of the most respected lawyers of New
York. As, however, he devoted his entire interest
to Theosophy and the Theosophical Society founded
by Madame Blavatsky, he lived under the same roof
with this wonderful woman.

One day we sat altogether conversing on trivial

352

A SARTORIAL ACHIEVEMENT

and more serious topics, when the question arose as
to what man was able or unable to do.

I maintained one could do anything one really
willed doing.

"Well," said Madame Blavatsky, laughing, "you
can't make yourself a tailor-made dress."

" Nor trousers for your husband," added Olcott,
and looked triumphantly at both of us as if he had
mentioned something quite impossible.

The last idea put me on my mettle. " Very well,
I shall try."

" Ah," added Olcott, " he must be able to wear
them!"

" Of course," I agreed, to the high amusement of
the Blavatsky, who insisted also on the tailor-made
costume.

The tasks amused me very much. Directly I
reached home, a pair of Serge's best trousers, made
by one of the first Petersburg tailors, was taken in
hand and carefully unpicked. Meanwhile, I en-
grossed myself entirely in this art, and resolved to
carry out certain little tricks in combination with it.
For instance, to cut off and re-sew the buttonhole
strip. I had no money to buy expensive stuff, but
had a beautiful large English plaid shawl which in its
sober grey colour was very suitable for an elegant
pair of trousers.

The cutting-out went splendidly. I did not know
at that time how to use the sewing-machine. I
tacked the pieces 1 had unpicked exactly on those
I had cut out, and undertook the troublesome task of
stitching in the same holes exactly, in order to get the
new trousers the same as the others. When, after
many days, this gigantic trial of patience was ended,
amid much teasing from Serge, the old material was
cut away close to the seam, all the little threads
were removed, and, as I said before, by using the old
buttonhole borders the trousers were completed, and
were a masterpiece ! My pride was boundless ! They

353 2 a

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

fitted beautifully, as well as if they had been turned
out by a first-class tailor. Serge had never pleased
me more, nor had he ever looked so smart. But —
unfortunately there was a "but" — when he wanted
to put his usual odds and ends into his pockets, there
were none ! Tableau ! Sold ! However, the pocket-
less work of art was endlessly admired, and Serge
wore it with pleasure for four years. Olcott and
Blavatsky were wide -minded enough to take no
notice of such trifles, and said I was right — one could
do anything one wished !

The tailor-made gown for myself was naturally
child's play compared with Serge's trousers. It was
of blue cloth, made from an unpicked Paris model, and
reached the highest perfection. My dear Blavatsky
and others declared I had never had a dress that fitted
me so well.

Well 1 this little episode and the praise of my
friends had very useful consequences for me. Since
that time, and to this day, I have made everything
I wear myself, from the most dainty underlinen
to the most complicated visiting-gowns, have never
utilised the services of a tailor or dressmaker since,
and am considered an elegant and well-dressed
woman.

I therefore owe to this remarkable friend, Helena
Petrowna Blavatsky, not only my mental and
theosophical development, but also this practical and
most valuable initiation into the arrangement of my
entire wardrobe.

A year which we passed together in intimate
friendship made me conversant with the fundamental
traits of the oldest doctrine preached in a new form ;
and from year to year it has become more and more
the aim and object of my life.

Then the " Sphinx of the North " went, with a
few of her followers (among whom was the New York
lawyer Olcott), to India— where Olcott has settled as
President of the Theosophical Society, and where he

354

A NOBLE WORK

has become almost entirely a Hindu in manners and
customs.

I saw them both depart with a heavy heart. How
gladly I would have joined them, and gone with these
two wonderful people to the wonderland of India ;
but our circumstances then bound us to New York.

One of the most lasting impressions of my sojourn
in America I owe to my old friend Charles Dawbarn,
of whose rare qualities, inclining to occultism, I have
spoken in my book, Wie ich mein Selbstfand. One
day he asked me if I would like to meet his old
comrade Mrs. Smith, who lived only a few doors from
us. The very common name conveyed nothing to
me, but I replied, " If this is your friend — certainly,
for then she must be an unusual person."

" So she is, and as regards unusual kindness and
charity there is no one like her in the world ; but if
we go, please don't be horrified at her surroundings.
She only lives for them. You will find this old
woman, who is nearly eighty years of age, in the
midst of most remarkable beings. I will not say
more, you will see the rest yourself."

Of course I was very curious, and we went round
to Mrs. Smith.

The little negress, peculiar to all American houses
of the middle class, opened the door. "Yes, Mrs.
Smith was at home with all the little ones ! "

At the same moment we heard weird guttural
sounds, more like animals than human beings. We
were shown into a very large parlour where the old
woman was surrounded by fifteen or sixteen little
creatures, who at first sight looked most startling.
My friend Dawbarn had prepared me, therefore I
concealed my uneasiness, and looked at the sympa-
thetic old woman who, with a most kindly smile,
stretched out her hand and welcomed me into the
circle of her prot£g£es, who were outcasts — poor
outcast protegees ! I looked at the crowd of little
ones, whose ages varied from three to twelve, and

355

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

now discovered by the lifeless expression of their
glassy eyes that the poor things were blind. Mrs.
Smith saw that I sympathised, and added at once :

" Oh, blindness is not the worst calamity ! They
are all idiots, deaf and dumb, and some of them, as
you see, cannot walk — only crawl."

I was quite moved, and asked shudderingly,
"What do you do with them?" The old woman
replied, " Well, I simply make human beings out of
them." She told the apparently eldest child — a girl
of eleven or twelve — to come to her (all of them
were scrupulously clean), and then asked me, " Will
you allow Lizzie to touch you?" I looked at the
child a little uneasily, but nevertheless nodded.

Mrs. Smith took the child's hand, laid it on her
mouth, and said slowly, " Tell me what the lady
looks like," tapping at the same time like a typist on
Lizzie's other hand. The latter seemed to under-
stand. Her features — so blunted and animal — lit up.
She blinked with her sightless eyes, and seemed to
scent my presence, so to speak, like a dog. She
came straight up to me in the familiar room, placed
her hand on my face, felt all over it, then said in the
deep, guttural tones with which deaf and dumb
people generally ejaculate, " Fine, soft, big-eyed,
good."

My horror had given way to lively interest. I
was astonished, and could not find words to express
my admiration for this dear old lady, who made out
of the miserable semi - animals before me beings
which had at least arrived at a degree of intelligence,
and restored the use of those senses that nature had
entirely closed to them.

Only think — not only blind, not only deaf and
dumb — no, these wretched children were likewise
idiots ! The smallest of them gave distinct evidences
of this, and by its absolutely animal gestures proved
what a colossal work Mrs. Smith had already achieved
in the most advanced one.

356

THE CARE OF MUTES

About five-and-twenty years later, the wonderful
book was published treating of Helen Keller, who,
according to my opinion, is the greatest human
phenomenon. Her splendid teacher, Miss Sullivan,
relates here what enormous, almost unimaginable,
difficulties had to be surmounted in order to
humanise little Helen Keller, who was blind, deaf,
and dumb ; but as she is one of the most intelligent
beings on earth, one could almost conceive her to be
endowed with a sixth sense — intuition. It is well
known that in her twentieth year she became a
doctor of philosophy at the Radcliffe University.
The spirit world lived within her — she only had to
be taught how to enter and move in it. Then she
swam there lightly and happily, like the trout in a
mountain stream, as if she were in her own element.

Mrs. Smith's unhappy pupils were, and remained,
idiots. Nevertheless, this human angel transformed
them by love and patience into beings capable at
least of manual aid, fit to be taken in by kind families,
of which there are more in America than in Europe.
Here one finds a truly Christian spirit, a Christlike
sympathy as well as real broad-minded charity, which
does not content itself solely with doing good, does
not cease to succour need and outward necessity, but
renounces its own comfort in self-sacrificing patience
by taking such poor, unhappy outcasts into their
midst and tending them.

After Mrs. Smith's death, these poor creatures
were all divided among charitable families in the
manner described.

The remembrance of this noble old woman and
her pupils remains one of my most touching and
elevating memories.

As already related, several well-known doctors
belonging to our intimate circle had come to America
almost without means, and at the time we knew
them were more or less wealthy people. Riches are
the alpha and omega of American existence ; and

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

as neither Serge nor I found long sedentary work
suited us, both of us were advised by our doctor
friends to study medicine, and then, as in the case of
the very famous couple, Dr. Jacoby and his wife, to
practise together and earn money.

I was enthusiastic at the thought of this plan. I
had, as one may remember, even as a child, always
taken a lively interest in natural sciences, and this
had been refreshed by Professor Semper. I made
my preparations, matriculated at the New York
University for Women, and studied for four years
with the greatest zeal. In the meantime I made
little trips to other universities — for instance, the
Homeopathic and the Electric — in order to become
familiar with the different methods.

It was an enlightening and a busy time for me.
After six months Serge gave up the whole thing,
and devoted himself more and more to active political
work.

At that time (I do not know if this has since
changed), the teaching in the American universities
resembled that of the European gymnasia more than
that of our universities.

First and foremost, entrance to the same is only
conditional on the very simplest Board School educa-
tion. There is an entrance fee of about two hundred
dollars, and quite a primitive examination to pass.
One is accepted if one can read, write, reckon, and if
one knows a little American history and geography.
One can then attend all lectures, and can also take
a place at once in the operating-rooms. During
the first half-year one studies physics, chemistry,
botany, materia medica, theoretical anatomy,j and
physiology.

The method would be an impossible one in our
universities. In the first place, there is rather a
strict control (in many colleges by calling out the
names), to find out if one attends the lectures regu-
larly, and only serious reasons are accepted as an

358

AT NEW YORK UNIVERSITY

excuse. Secondly, in real American fashion, all
practical studies are pursued immediately ; chemistry,
physics, and also anatomy — the latter demonstrated
from the first upon corpses. Thirdly, in every
lecture a certain proportion of printed matter is
given as a task to learn by heart. Whoever, then, is
called up to repeat it must know it Of course a
good memory for words plays a big part in this.
Therefore no knowledge of Latin is necessary. The
student has to learn the Latin names together with
anything else that is new to him. How and whether
he will pass the examination, is entirely his own
affair ; this is according to the real American
principle that every one is the author of his own
good fortune. If fundamental education be wanting,
he must acquire it — how, nobody cares ! Therefore
in such colleges all classes are represented, from the
peasant to the son of the President — nearly all with
the same preparation of the big but excellent Board
School.

I must add one other thing. In the American
universities a great deal more work is done than in
Germany. The respect every American has for
money, and, in consequence, for time, impels him to
employ every minute of the highly paid educational
period (four years' study are obligatory) with the
greatest zeal-
There is no student life as we understand it ; and
most of the students are abstainers. There are no
unions or beer meetings ; hardly any of the students
know each other beyond the superficial acquaintance
of the lecture-room. At most, one or two of the
poorer ones join forces and live together, in which
case they share the same bed. Total strangers, there-
fore, are often forced into this most intimate com-
panionship — a thing which, according to our custom,
is quite unheard of.

In all such " natural " things, the Americans,
especially those from the country, have childishly

359

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

naive ideas, whereas in other matters they are over-
prudish.

Fate again stopped my plans. Just before I was
to go up for my examination as doctor, I became so
ill that I was in bed for many months, and unable to
study. My medical friends told me I must have the
courage to give up the idea of becoming a doctor, as
in the broken-down state of my health, which was
then recognised, it was impossible for me to practise.

I renounced my pet idea — that of becoming a
great lady doctor — with a heavy heart, for I had an
exceptional position at the High School where I
studied. I possessed the gift of rapid and sure
diagnosis, and for many years had been called
" doctor " by the professors. They were not accus-
tomed to have any one before them with such a first-
class education and general knowledge as " Dr.
Schewitsch."

I must say that as regards the class of women
who studied medicine with me, ninety per cent of
them became mostly higher class mid wives ; the
remainder, however, eminent doctors.

I recall, for instance, a fair, delicate little woman,
who, on completion of her studies, was elected
dissector at the University, and another who entered
into competition with four young doctors, and was
elected for the post of head house doctor at the
big German Hospital. They won their position by
absolute superiority.

There are, or there were then, in New York,
several women whose names were equal to those of
the first men doctors — particularly in the speciality
of children, women, and nerve doctors. It had been
my intention to take up lung and heart diseases.

In concluding this episode, I must mention that
I should be untruthful if I were to say that the
prejudice against women students is on the whole
less in America than it is in Europe. As illustration
of this let one example be given.

360

CLINICAL STUDY

The big cliniques of the New York hospitals are
perhaps the most unique in the world. Here, during
the course of the year, one can see every illness that
suffering humanity is forced to bear.

Through the active ship transport from all parts
of the world, there are always some cases of the rarest
maladies, even those of savages, side by side with
the usual visitations of civilised people. For the
student, the material here was both uncommon and
valuable. Members of other colleges had received
invitations to visit these cliniques. The New York
Hospital possesses its own magnificent University,
founded by the millionaire Vanderbilt. Our pro-
fessors had advised us to take advantage of this
opportunity, and we did not allow it to be said in
vain. Several ladies visited the cliniques with me
regularly.

Upon our entrance, we distinctly noticed how
different the various students were in their manner,
and also the demonstrating professors. Some of
them were cool and brusque, to the verge of rudeness ;
others, again, particularly amiable and obliging, offer-
ing the ladies the most advantageous places for seeing
and hearing, and behaving in the most comradelike
way.

We proved ourselves very modest in dress, be-
haviour, and speech, feeling ourselves like guests on
sufferance.

After my medical dream was over, I turned to
sundry other occupations.

I wrote for newspapers, indeed I had never given
this up, and composed my great novel Ererbtes JSlut,
published by Hugo Steinitz, Berlin. I painted a
great deal, an occupation I arrived at in an original
manner, and also I gave lessons in foreign languages.

My painting began in this way.

After my recovery from the severe illness, I had
sprained my foot, and was condemned to lie still for
weeks and do nothing. I felt this very keenly, as

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

I had been accustomed to work from seven in the
morning until seven at night at all sorts of things.

Then an acquaintance said to me, "Why don't
you paint ? You can do that even whilst lying down."

I said, " Why don't I fly ? — I shouldn't want my
feet for that. It is because I can't."

" Oh, you can do everything," she said.

"A good deal — yes! But not paint! I have
never learnt drawing or painting."

That night I had a dream. Wilhelm von Kaul-
bach stood before me, held a palette in his hand, and
said, " Only paint, and I will show you how to hold
the brush, and how to put the colours properly on
the palette." He did this, I paid good attention to
it, awoke, and said to my husband, " Please go at
once and buy me such and such colours, paint brush,
and palette." I remembered the list of colours from
my dream.

Serge looked at me at first as if I had gone mad,
but I told him everything. He bought the painting
utensils, and I painted. The first thing I did (with-
out drawing first, that is, I fell to work at once with
the brush) was a large basket of flowers. How ?

First of all I finished the basket on canvas (I
painted first in oils), then, just as one would have
done in reality, I filled it with flowers, finishing each
one entirely before commencing another. The result
was that many artists said it was impossible that
I had never painted before.

I then studied a few weeks with a lady who was
a leading water-colour painter of flowers, and after
that I earned a lot of money in America with my
newly acquired art. Thus I found one occupation
after another, and with every new year I took to
myself a new "sense," as I termed it, by entering
new paths of science which hitherto had been closed
to me.

If my health had not always hindered me so much,
I might have accomplished many beautiful things.

362

CHAPTER XXXIX

Notwithstanding all this, my main interest was
the man for whose sake I had given up Europe and
everything there — Serge, my husband. He, during
the long years yonder, had developed into one of the
best-known men in the States, and principally as
the people's orator in German, as well as in English,
He knew the latter so perfectly that at Harvard
University a celebrated professor declared that " Serge
von Schewitsch was one of the best and finest scholars
of the English language in America."

It was wonderful and at the same time interesting
in the highest degree, to see how he, who in daily life
is one of the most silent and reserved of all the men
I ever knew, developed into a burning, enthusiastic,
inspired and inspiring orator as soon as he had a
large crowd of people before him.

His interests all lay in, and were entirely devoted
to, the people's party.

He, the born aristocrat, was, like so many Russians
— I refer to Prince Kropotkin and Alexander von
Herzen 'among others — heart and soul a social demo-
crat. His gagged and martyred country had moved
his soul to the deepest compassion by its sufferings,
and had formed a glowing hatred within him against
all oppression.

Let one example among many suffice here to
illustrate the power his speech and personality ex-
ercised upon great masses. He was literally adored
by the American "people," and during the twelve

363

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

years we had spent there, had made himself quite a
unique and curious position. One can imagine how
the opposite party used his aristocratic birth, his
distinguished and elegant appearance, and the palpable
evidences of the Russian aristocrat, as a reproach and
as stimulating accusation against him. But his
"people" stood by him faithfully.

It once happened that a great public open-air
meeting was held by the people in the gigantic Union
Square. It treated of the great movement which
was headed at that time by Henry George, repre-
sentative of Land Reform.

In the year 1886 the entire socialist party
was one with Henry George, only to separate
from him in 1887, as his ultimate aims differed
from their own. Great debates often took place,
and one of them was held in the biggest theatre in
New York, when Serge von Schewitsch triumphed
in a splendid speech over the equally eloquent Henry
George. Only a few weeks divided that evening meet-
ing in the Union Square from this evening s battle of
eloquence. It had reference to an election campaign.
I had gone there to hear my husband speak, and found
myself with him on the platform. Was it due to my
excitement ? I suddenly felt very unwell, so that,
by the time he had finished his great address to the
mass, numbering perhaps 12,000, I begged him to
take me back to our not very distant home.

We had been walking for about ten minutes when
faintness overcame me, and we had to sit down on
a bench.

Then crowds of people flew wildly past us, and
a loud noise penetrated to us from Union Square.

Serge sprang up, and inquired excitedly of the
people running past the cause of their flight. They
answered in anxious haste — "Police! disturbance!
clubbing ! "

We understood at once, and jumped up from our
seats. My fatigue disappeared, and I looked at

364

THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE

Serge, who in the greatest excitement exclaimed,
" Now we must go back — you must be strong enough,
for I must prevent grave disaster."

That I was so need scarcely be said. We flew
towards the Square, on to the platform, and Serge
to the railing, shouting to the terrible tumult raging
in the masses below, " Calm ! Moderation ! I am
here ! "

The noise ceased at once ; one heard voices calling,
" Schewitsch is here, Schewitsch is going to speak !
Silence."

And now he held this wildly indignant mass
spellbound by his eloquence, calmed the raging furies,
and by this prevented bloodshed which, without his
intervention, would, with absolute certainty, have
taken place. He ordered the people to keep quiet,
not to defend themselves against the brutality of the
police, but to break up without demonstration and
go home. Rejoicings as deafening as the previous
indignation rang out among the masses, "Long live
Schewitsch ! Schewitsch is right ! " Then all
happened as he had wished ; the populace, though
still murmuring, dispersed, leaving the police there
as inactive lookers-on. But what had happened to
provoke all these wild scenes ?

One knows, and everybody then knew, that in free
"Republican America," all those who think other-
wise than those in power find there is nothing more
brutal, more corrupt, than the New York police.
Revolvers are only used in extreme cases, but with
their clubs (terribly long weapons which are made
of oak-wood and slung to leather straps) they
inflict the most horrible wounds, and hew down
mercilessly children, women, and defenceless men.
They can vie well with the notorious Russian
Cossacks.

The quite harmless election meeting had been
denounced as "dangerous" at headquarters, and an
"army" of one hundred to two hundred men of

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

these armed police had been dispatched to "club"
the masses asunder.

The danger was that, as many people in America
always carry loaded revolvers upon them, the men,
heated by the enthusiasm of the speeches, would not
remain calm at this villainous attack on their women
and children, and might have had recourse to their
fire-arms.

My husband had prevented this by the power
of his eloquence, and by the magnetism of his
personality. As I have said before, I have no
political vein in me. Nevertheless, I was completely
enthralled by him, and proud of the hero of the hour.

There were many such moments in American
life, so that when we left the country after twelve
years' sojourn, the working people saw him depart
with great grief, and keep him to this day in
enthusiastic remembrance.

I do not wish to describe my husband merely as
a great man of the people, as a clever orator and
journalist, but also as a passionate lover who fears
no sacrifice. He is the same even to-day, if with
brief intervals. I say with brief intervals, because
the same thing applies to him as to most people.
One can love for ever — but with interruptions. One
must bridge over the pauses with a love that sur-
mounts everything, that covers everything, and is
victorious over everything.

Once in summer, wishing to escape from the
burning heat of New York, I stayed on the beautiful
sea-coast of Long Branch, which was still a very
fashionable place. As Serge was editing the New
York Volkszeitung, he was often unexpectedly
detained from meeting me at the time we had
arranged.

Long Branch can be reached either by train or
boat in about two hours ; trains and steamers do
not run very frequently, but are extremely punctual.
It often happened that for hours or days we could

366

NEW YORK REMINISCENCES

not be together, and then when we did meet we
made the best of our time, and no barriers existed for
the Weltsturmer.

I had received a telegram, " I am coming for
certain. — Serge." The train arrived — no Serge. I
began to get terribly excited, when friends who were
living with me consoled me with the remark that
the steamer was not yet due. However, this did not
bring me my loved one, and I was beside myself,
weeping and terrified, when suddenly he stood
before me ! He had come upon the engine of a
goods train ; no others were running, and he induced
the engine-driver to bring him by telling him that
his "sick wife was expecting him."

The sympathetic American allowed him to stand
by his side, and the usually elegant cavalier came to
my arms black and covered with soot.

I passed another summer at Rockland Lake,
charmingly situated on the Hudson. There two
similar desperate arrivals took place.

One Sunday I expected Serge and an intimate
woman friend to dinner. The place is an hour and
a half distance by rail from New York, on the right
side of the Hudson, and situated on an incline. I
went to the station in a carriage to fetch them both.
When they got out I was struck at once by the tired
and heated appearance of my husband. My friend
exclaimed whilst we were still embracing, "You
ought to scold him well instead of kissing him. He
has done something dreadful."

" What has happened again ? " I asked uneasily.

Serge was making signs to her to be quiet, but
she continued, "From Hoboken to * * * he ran
after the train at a terrible pace for over half an hour,
and jumped into it in a tunnel, where it always halts
a few minutes. His appearance was such that I
hardly recognised him, and of course he is half dead.
I was afraid he would have a fit."

I looked at my Serge in horror, but he laughed

367

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

and said, "Yes, but I should not have been able to
come otherwise, and you would have been frightened
to death. The train went off under my nose. I
reckoned on its slower pace up the Hudson Hill, and
on the few minutes' delay before the tunnel ; and as
I am here, you see I calculated well."

Another time, at the same place, Serge was only
able to take the train that left on the opposite shore
of the Hudson. Here there was no communication
across the river, which, where I was, was very broad.
It was noon and one of those burning hot days
known only in New York, which are feared even by
the Brazilians there.

No hindrance, however, existed for this adven-
turous „ one. He managed to get a little boat, and,
heedless of the heat, he rowed himself across — an
hour and a half's work — and then rushed up the
mountain, on which the hotel lay ; this took another
half-hour. The condition he arrived in is best not
described.

I could narrate many more such adventurous
love journeys in Europe and America, but those
mentioned will be sufficient to show the strange
passionate nature of the man who, in my later life,
had replaced everything that was so cruelly taken
away from me in my youth, and will also suffice to
explain that a great love bound me to him which
nothing is capable of destroying.

The reminiscences of those American years
accumulate, and much still remains that would be
interesting to relate ; but I will not extend them too
much, and will only mention a few well-known,
original people, who at the same time offer a good
picture of many American peculiarities. Two names
stand out above all others in my mind's eye — Ottilie
Assing and Fred Douglas. The former was a sister
of Ludmilla Assing, and was brought up with her
in her uncle Varnhagen von Ense's house. She was
the cleverer, although the less pushing, of the two,

368

OTTILIE ASSING

The influence of the learned men of her time,
especially of the two brothers Alexander and Wilhelm
von Humboldt, was distinctly noticeable, and her
splendid education and refined manners, as also those
of "Rahel" and of the aesthetics in Varnhagen's
salon. She had come to North America full of the
warmest compassion for the poor slaves of the
Southern States, and had placed herself here at the
disposal of the "liberators."

After all kinds of dangers which she had passed
through in saving negro slaves who were persecuted
by the incensed government of the Southern States,
she became one of the heads of the society in New
York for their help and protection. Some of them
had succeeded in escaping from bondage ; but, hunted
and without means, they would have perished, if
other members of that society had not sent them
secretly one to another, and hidden the poor fugitives
for months at a time, at the risk of death to them-
selves through the revenge of the Southerners.

Thus Ottilie Assing made the acquaintance of
Fred Douglas, who had also fled from slavery. She
had taken him in, and found in him an unusually
gifted being.

His mother — a jet-black negress — had brought
him into the world during the first half of the
nineteenth century, on a plantation of the rich white
American Lloyd, whom one suspected of being his
father. Even as a little boy, when he saw the
master's children reading and amusing themselves
over what they read, he wept bitterly at not knowing
this art. Against the master's wishes, he found
means to learn how to read, reckon, and write.

He was on good terms with his possessor or, as
was whispered, his father. The latter did not want
any "educated slaves," and sold him at last into
another state.

Fred always strove to extend his knowledge, and
succeeded with the greatest difficulty in obtaining a

369 2 b

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

first-class school education. After his successful
flight, which he describes very picturesquely in a
book, My Bondage and Freedom, he came to Ottilie
Assing, who instructed him still further. She kept
him, I believe, hidden in her house for two years,
and had the pleasure of seeing him become one of the
most eminent men of the United States, and one
who distinguished himself alike during war and peace.

He travelled all through England and Canada,
also the whole of the Northern States, and proved
himself everywhere a brilliant orator. In the national
war which was fought for his black brothers, and
which ended at last in their deliverance, he came to
the fore. Lincoln, the most famous of all American
Presidents, placed especial confidence in him, asked
his advice, and took him into the State service.
When my husband and I made his acquaintance in
1878, he was occupying the exalted post of Marshal
of the United States in Washington. Karl Schurz
— our great German compatriot — considered Fred
Douglas among his intimate friends. Every child in
America knew "Fred." We found in him a tall,
handsome, leonine man, a type in whom the mixture
of races (for he thought he had Indian blood in his
veins) had had the happiest results. His rare and
universal knowledge was particularly noticeable in
America, where only the most elementary school
education predominates. His fascinating manner and
amiability had lost none of the softness of character
which stamps the negro in his national songs, and
which makes the men and women of this race such
desirable servants. Our old friend Ottilie Assing
had taught him the most perfect manner. In brief,
we found in him one of the cleverest and pleasantest
men whom we knew. He combined equally wit
and humorous views of life with deep earnestness
and learning.

When quite a young slave, and long before he
was free, he had married a coal-black negress and had

370

FRED DOUGLAS

a black family. These children, in spite of the
brilliant education he gave them, remained mere
niggers. However, he sent for the whole family, and
lived in happy wedlock with his wife until her death.

Good Ottilie's ageing heart, as was natural, was
centred upon the dark, handsome Fred — the handi-
work of her spirit. She respected his bonds of wed-
lock, but no doubt hoped that when death released
him from his coloured spouse, he would lay his freedom
at her feet.

The poor thing was bitterly disappointed. Fred
Douglas, whose hair was now snow-white, contrasting
with the dusky colour of his skin, lost his wife
through death, but he offered his hand to a younger
white woman who had been his secretary when he
was in the service of the State.

My friend Ottilie, who had hitherto been so brave,
now in her despair committed suicide in Paris, in the
Bois de Boulogne, whither she had journeyed in the
anguish of her soul. She poisoned herself with
cyanide of potassium on a lonely bench, and in this
way miserably ended a life which had been so full of
good and noteworthy deeds. Probably very few
people besides myself knew the real reason of this
tragic end.

I did not touch on these two exceptional beings
merely to talk about them, but to show in the
example of Fred Douglas how deeply racial hatred of
the most educated American proved itself, even in
the case of such a prominent man as he was.

After we had known him for two years, we were
staying one summer at one of the smart bathing-
place hotels, where more Americans than foreigners
sought relief from the glowing heat of July and
August.

I formed a closer friendship with two pleasant
ladies — mother and daughter. We had many mutual
interests and understood each other in most of the
main questions of life. One day the conversation

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

turned on the prejudices of race among the Anglo-
Saxons. "The Englishman in England," I said,
"does not assert his superiority, but unconsciously
assumes it ; so in America. The foreigner, unless he
understood how to impress people with exalted titles,
such as 'Prince' or 'Duke,' never attains to quite
an equivalent standing with the American born. As
for the poor nigger, who even to-day occupies the same

miserable position as during the time of slavery "

Both women looked in astonishment at me, and said,
"Surely you don't expect us to regard the nigger as
a human being ? "

I replied in equal amazement, "Not the nigger
who just put the iced water on the table for us, but
the educated 'darkie.'"

"There is not a single coloured man capable of
any kind of education," they disputed eagerly.

" What about Fred Douglas ? " I said, playing
this my great trump card.

They were both silent for a moment, then the
mother said, " Well, yes, he may have acquired a
little political knowledge, but you surely would not
sit in the same room with Fred Douglas ? "

" I ? Yes ! I love and honour him ! "

The ladies stiffened visibly.

" Well, but you would never shake hands with
him ! " they added triumphantly.

"Not only shake hands ; my husband and I have
even kissed him heartily when we met again after a
long parting."

"Oh, well," came long drawn out from the
beautiful lips of the mother. Then she looked at her
watch and said, " Mabel, it is time for church," and
both sailed out.

From that moment they acknowledged me coolly,
and never spoke to me again.

As I have said, Fred Douglas married a white
woman after the death of his coal-black wife, and
when already advanced in years, and Marshal of the

372

AMERICAN RACIAL PREJUDICE

United States. The lady was of very good family,
and because of her marriage was cast off by society.
On the first Sunday after their wedding, when she
appeared in the church she had attended since her
childhood, accompanied by the man so much esteemed
by the government, the acquaintances who usually
sat next to her got up and left, leaving her alone
with her husband. Fred Douglas, indignant at such
behaviour, wanted to enforce his rights.

The following Sunday he appeared again, sat
down on the deserted bench without his wife, whom
he wanted to spare the pain of being treated as a
pariah. Then the whole congregation rose up to
leave the church. The Marshal remained alone with
the clergyman, who, in these circumstances, gave up
the service, and advised him rather to go to the
coloured preacher of his " own people " in the Metho-
dist Church.

Almost the same thing happened to him at the
theatre, as is the case with most black people. He
was told at the box office that not a single place was
vacant. Theatre directors cannot act otherwise, for
their theatres would be simply boycotted, if it
occurred to them to sell a seat to a coloured man.

During the twelve years I remained in the States
I never once saw a coloured man in a tramcar. He
would have been treated in such a manner that the
poor creature would never attempt it a second time.
The same applied to hotels, restaurants, and bars.

The big New York paper, The World, once
arranged a trial to establish a proof of this. They
chose an elegant, well-dressed nigger as reporter.
He drove in a carriage and pair to the best hotels
and demanded rooms. A rapid glance of the porter
was bestowed upon his beautiful trunks and hand-
bags, then a regretful shrug of the shoulders followed,
and invariably the same words, " I am very sorry,
but we have not a single room free." The next one
who drove up, also dispatched as traveller by The

373

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

World to control matters, had as many rooms as he
wanted put at his disposal.

In the smart restaurants, where ocular evidence
made it impossible to say that " no table was free,"
they did not even trouble to make an excuse, but
simply said, "No coloured people admitted." The
poor things were dealt with otherwise at the big bars.
Here one allowed him to approach a table, then the
bar-keeper placed himself quietly before him, and to
everything the reporter asked for, no matter how
much he let his dollars shine, he received the following
answer, " Sorry, sir, we have run out of this." The
instant the coloured man entered, all customers left
the place.

The white reporter who entered directly after him
received naturally all the cocktails and drink he chose
to ask for.

It was so utterly against the principles of the
Constitution that The World, in conscientiously
exposing the whole affair, added a disapproving com-
mentary on the Constitution itself; but matters
remained as before.

When I remonstrated with a lady, who expressed
her deep disgust of niggers, by remarking that they
all liked keeping coloured servants, she replied naively,
"Yes, they are incomparable as such — honest, good,
and attached to us. The Southern niggers especially
would allow themselves to be killed for their masters,
and cannot be replaced by any other servants."

My reply, that beings with such superior qualities
as those just cited could not be quite worthless, was
answered with the assertion that they were not
human beings, but at most a sort of superior animal,
and it was a wrong to have liberated them from the
slavery to which they belonged.

The Chinaman is not treated quite so badly,
perhaps because he keeps himself so very much in
the background, and has the same prejudice against
the white man as the latter has for him.

374

AMERICAN RACIAL PREJUDICE

One meets the pigtailed " son of the centre " in
all tramcars and shops without the American shrinking
from him as if he had the plague ; but it is still a
question whether this better treatment would continue
if the Chinaman wanted to pose as an American,
possessing full rights in religion as in everything else.

It seems, according to events which took place in
California, not to be the same with the Japanese.

As with the Chinese, so with the nigger, a con-
temptuous hatred — which in our eyes is perfectly
comprehensible — has developed in him against the
white man. The nigger usually makes a comical
distinction when speaking of his equals — even if the
most elementary rags cover their nakedness — and
designates them as "lady and gentleman" in the
same sentence where they speak of our class as "man
and woman."

One hears a hundred times the expression when
a ragged old negress is pointed out, " That coloured
lady spoke to that white woman " (pointing perhaps
to an elegant American). The down -trodden race
avenges itself with similar pin -pricks against its
oppressors.

The haughtiness of the American does not confine
itself to the coloured people. The Jew is exposed
almost as much to their racial hatred, and if they had
the power of excluding him from the rights of the
white people, they would surely do it.

It is not seldom that in the U.S.A. big fashionable
warehouses advertise in the. papers, and post the same
on the doors of their entrances : " Nothing sold here
to Jews." It is true that some of the largest houses
failed in consequence of this foolish procedure ; they
perished for the sake of their racial prejudices, for
there, as in other places, the rich Jews are the principal
purchasers.

Many hotels also permit themselves the luxury
of announcing that "No Jews are accepted."

In conclusion, I will relate a true little story.

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

The most celebrated German doctor in all the
States is Dr. Jacoby. His wife — although he is a
Jew by descent, and she is just as famous a lady
doctor — is of strictly Christian origin, being the
American daughter of the well-known publishers,
Putnam's of New York. But she has dark hair and
big black eyes, and is called "Frau Dr. Jacoby."

A smart summer hotel had not omitted to
announce its advertisement in the New York papers,
"No Jews accepted." Frau Dr. Jacoby wished to
push this impertinence ad absurdum. She drove to
the hotel with her children and servants, mentioned
her name that was so respected, and received in reply,
"No rooms vacant." At this she answered, "I am
Dr. Putnam Jacoby." " We are sorry ; no rooms
are vacant."

It was, however, at a time when the hotels could
not possibly have been overcrowded, and Frau Dr.
Jacoby learned later that after her departure, some
"Gentile people" — as the Christians are called
there — found rooms enough. She published the
insult that had been done to her ; the hotel no doubt
suffered from it, but nothing was changed.

• . . .

Referring to interesting acquaintances, let me
mention a certain intimacy with the man as with
the artist Vasilli Vereschtschagin.

At that time I was writing the art criticisms for
many big German papers in the States. Thus we
met my husband's compatriot as soon as he arrived.
He was the first who understood how to combine an
exhibition of pictures with the arrangement of elegant
salons. He transformed the compartments of his
picture gallery into magnificent drawing-rooms by
means of an immense quantity of beautiful old
Persian carpets, costly specimens of Russian gold
and iron work, and beautiful Russian laces.

In a Russian tea-room where Vereschtschagin's
two non-Russian men-servants stood at the samovar

376

VASILLI VERESCHTSCHAGIN

all day pouring out tea, a Russian lady sat at the
piano and sang Russian national songs. One could
imagine oneself transported from the Hudson to
the Volga. The extraordinary fascinating personality
of the artist himself, and this comfortable Russian
interior, took something away from the gruesome
impression of his terrible pictures of war, crucifixions,
and horrors of all kinds. They inspired indeed both
horror and awe, and were intended by the artist to
do this. He liked to call himself the *' Missionary
of Peace," and nothing gave him more satisfaction
than when his pictures roused disgust against war.
He hoped by means of them to attain the eventual
abolition of it. This was his life's aim. He painted
over 1000 gruesome pictures to illustrate this, and
was thus the greatest apostle of peace.

Everything in his mighty art is devoted to the
horrors of war, from the terrible pyramid of skulls
where the only living things are vultures wheeling
round or hovering upon them, from the poor
soldiers dying in the wretched martyrs bed in the
field hospitals of wounds that have hardly been
dressed, or the lonely sentinel on the Schipka Pass —
"Nothing new from the Schipka Pass" — to the
impressive scene of the roll-call.

As a contrast, his Himalayan pictures were most
elevating and uniquely beautiful, and were in three
parts — summit, centre, and foot, each a picture
by itself, giving a true representation of the 4 over-
whelming mountains. Peace and mightiness are ex-
pressed therein as one seldoms finds in any landscape.
I passed days with him in his showrooms, and
mentally became very intimate with the strange, in-
teresting man ; I mourned sincerely when I heard
of his tragic death in the horrible catastrophe of the
blowing up of the battleship Peter Pawlowski.
What a curious fate 1 In early youth his father had
destined him for the navy. Life at sea did not
appeal to him ; he left it and became a painter and

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

led a nomadic life, until in death the sea reclaimed
him, drawing the deserter with terrible force towards
her once more. The sea conquered the enemy of the
sea, just as war roused him to revolt against war.

Most of his pictures are held as national pos-
sessions of Russia.

Whilst touching on this highest art, my memory
comes upon a comical episode that proves how the
average American then, as perhaps now, comprehended
the term "art." One morning we saw in all the
English New York newspapers an advertisement
with the heading, " An Evening with Artists, or Art
and Industry," which ran thus : "On the 8th of May
an exhibition of the rarest art will take place in
Madison Square Garden (the largest building in
New York, with enormous halls). Artists, painters,
designers, sculptors, and musicians of the very first
rank will allow their works to evolve themselves
before the eyes of the public. Artists will behave as
if in their studios. Visitors are requested to appear
in costume, and to chat with the artists. Our
military friends are asked to appear in uniform.
For the time, art and industry will appear like sisters,
hand in hand in the adjoining magnificent exhibition.
Entrance 50 cents (2s.)."

It may be imagined how much this advertisement
roused our curiosity. We agreed to go that evening
with a party of friends, and had a lively discussion as
to whether we should go in costume or not ; Serge
and Keppler were against costumes, and fortunately
their opinion prevailed.

At nine o'clock we all met in the large entrance
hall, and a merry, expectant feeling of pleasure
reigned among us.

What should we see ? We entered the gigantic
hall in the greatest state of curiosity. A gaping void
stared at us. Perhaps a hundred guests were lost in
the spacious hall that is calculated for tens of thou-

378

AMERICAN ART

sands, and the faces that met ours looked so stupid
and perplexed that this alone moved us to the
greatest mirth. In the centre of the hall, which was
quite nicely decorated with plants, we espied a
platform about 150 feet in length, upon which the
artists who would "behave as if in their studios " were
posted. A piano was in the centre, at which a long-
haired youth sat in ecstasy ; he seemed to see nothing
around him and mercilessly worked away at it. He
was improvising. Next to him was an easel at which
an incredible being stood, disguised as a painter. He
also painted away without noticing his surroundings,
absorbed in the sacred depths of his work. What
it was I no longer know, nor did I at the time,
distracted as I was by the overwhelming ludicrousness
of the "sculptor." With a wild mane that stuck out
in all directions, he ceaselessly turned his artist head
in terrifying speed from his lump of clay on a pole
to his model— a tiny cadet, apparently the sole
" military " friend who had appeared in uniform, and
who, with delightful dignity, seemed conscious of the
great moment. He offered his ape-like profile to the
art of the master. It was the ugliest face one could
imagine ; the lips were too short, it had a very pug
nose, and expressionless fish-eyes ; but no one else had
presented himself as a model, and the artist was
carried away by his task.

The other occupants of the platform were just as
absorbed, just as funny, and just as poor in their
ability. The poor things were paid by the managers
of this incredible fete by the hour, to " behave as if
in their studios." Our amusement reached its height
when our friend Keppler, whom they all knew, joined
the " colleagues," entered into natural conversation,
and played up entirely to their importance. Even
this was not the culminating point of this amusing
evening. That came when we entered a mysterious,
dimly lighted chamber, above which an inscription
informed us "Here Art and Industry Unite."

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

At first we saw nothing. Then we discovered, on
a table, a cardboard elephant (this was art), with a
saddle in which several little wine-bottles supported
a baldachin (this was industry). Next to this was a
fortress, also in cardboard (elephant and fortress
half as tall as a man), out of whose loopholes little
scent bottles peeped out instead of cannon. Here
also art and industry united. We could inspect
nothing more for laughing. Some gentlemen were
indignant at the enormity of the mystification, and
did not see the unconscious irony of it all, grumbled
over their lost time and gaping boredom, but were
made fun of by us more lively ones, and laughed into
silence. Later on they had to thank us, for a more
amusing remembrance of American Art probably no
one ever received. To this day that evening forms a
topic of never-ending mirth for all those who took
part in it.

380

CHAPTER XL

During the last year of our stay in America we had
rented a charming little villa in rather a distant
suburb of New York. Roselle could be reached by
train (which often resembles a tramcar) in an hour,
and the villa offered all modern conveniences. I
could indulge in my love for animals, and kept dogs,
chickens, little monkeys, and small parrots ; and a
nice little garden permitted me to grow flowers and
vegetables.

Shortly before we moved into the villa, it happened
that in the New York suburb of Hoboken, I met a
man who fell down in the street with convulsions.
He looked rather poor, but very clean, and as the
incident took place just in front of our house, I had
given him first aid (which was fresh in my mind
from my medical studies). I asked a passing police-
man to carry the man into the house. When every-
thing had been done according to my instructions,
and the patient had regained consciousness, and been
fed, I soon recognised that it had been misery and
absolute destitution that had struck him down — the
poor thing ! I let him tell me the often-heard story
of wrecked existences in America, and then offered
him a little spare room in which to rest until my
husband — the friend of the poor and deserted — should
return home, and with whom I would consult as to
what was to be done next.

Considering that in our new villa we could make
use of male assistance, we asked the poor tramp (as

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

such people without standing or occupation are called
in America) to come with us to Roselle. He accepted
joyfully, and in return for board and lodging he
rendered little services — went errands, etc. He be-
haved very well for some weeks in spite of all the
dismal prophecies of our friends, who declared I had
picked up a thief and a loafer in the streets and
would have the most awful experiences. Nothing of
the sort occurred, but after a week he began to be
dissatisfied with everything. He wanted his joint
daily, and sometimes chickens or poultry. He said
he had been accustomed to this in his native town,
Hamburg. In short, he became so exorbitant in his
demands that we had to give him notice, and cease
our hospitality. So he wandered off again into un-
certainty. His big bedroom on the third story was
not to remain empty long.

One morning Serge and I stood at our bedroom
window, when we saw a young man begging down-
stairs at the kitchen door. Our excellent Hungarian
cook was just handing him out a large cup of coffee
and food, which he fell upon as if famished. I went
down full of compassion and asked him if he would
help me arrange the garden, in return for board and
lodging. He thanked me gratefully, said he had
helped his mother to garden and understood every-
thing very well. He remained.

So after the German tramp, Frank, the American
one, became an inmate of our house. We discovered
in him a most excellent young man. He was so
grateful for the good shelter that he tried to make
himself useful in every possible way, and, as a real
American, he understood everything. If the electric
bell or light went wrong, Frank came to the rescue ;
if joiners or locksmith's work were needed, Frank did
it excellently; if I came down early at 6 o'clock to plant
and water in the garden, Frank had already done at 5
o'clock everything there was to do. In short, Frank
was a jewel, had good manners, and was politeness itself.

382

AMERICAN EXPERIENCES

One day Serge, who, as I said, was at that time
editor of the New York Volkszeitung, and did other
literary work, required a long English copy of a
manuscript. He asked Frank to look for somebody
for the purpose in the little neighbouring town. But
our Frank said, " If my own handwriting is good
enough, I will write it myself." After half an hour
the vagabond appeared with the first sheets, in
orthography and handwriting a faultless copy.
"But, Frank!" exclaimed my husband, "what is
the matter ? You can do everything, yet you are
here with us as "

" Tramp ! yes, say it ! A demoralised vagabond,"
the young man interrupted him sadly.

" But why, Frank ? Why ? "

"Because I have a vagabond's disposition. My
father is one of the leading clergymen in Philadelphia,
and I was to have studied, but I can't — can't sit still,
can't remain in one spot. I must tramp, must wander !
I have had the best of situations, people are always
satisfied with me, but there, it suddenly comes over
me, I begin to drink, and must be off and away."

We looked at him in wonderment. He had
never touched a drop of liquor whilst with us. So
he wrote and worked, until one fine day he dis-
appeared. The girls had seen him depart with a
bundle ; he had not said anything, but a nearly new
suit of my husband's, which we had given him, was
left behind, and he had written on a slip of paper,
"I have not earned these."

A few days later I went down to the pantry of
our villa, and saw there a whole battery of empty
condensed milk cans heaped up. We never used
condensed milk, so I asked in astonishment, " Where
do all these empty milk cans come from ? "

" From Frank," was the reply.

" From Frank — what do you mean ? What could
he have wanted with all this milk ? "

" Here," and the cook pointed to a lot of empty

383

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

methylated spirit bottles. " He poured this into the
open milk cans, and drank it for the past few days —
every evening and all night."

Poor fellow ! It had " come over him " again.
Methylated spirits and milk; this horrible beverage
had driven him away from us, where he had been so
happy, as once it had driven him from his own home,
to tramp on the highway.

A few weeks later I was alone at home one
evening. I forgot to say that our villa was quite
isolated and without neighbours. My only protection
were my three dogs, of which two — a wolf-hound and
a retriever bitch — were very big and dangerous.
The Hungarian cook and the housemaid were rather
nervous.

Serge was often busy with his paper far into the
night, and a faithful friend, who in such cases stood
by me, was at that time travelling in the west of the
States. The evening in question was cold and rainy,
so that at 10.30 pitch darkness reigned. Suddenly
my dogs began barking furiously, and a moment
later there was a loud knocking at the back door. I
opened the window in the first story and called out,
"Who is there?"

The enraged dogs were trying to get out at the
door.

"We are two good friends. Frank has sent us!
Please let us in ! "

No ! This was too much, even for me. To be
looked up as a sort of vagabonds' refuge, that the
tramps of the highway sent each other to us — no !

I expressed my regret at being unable to take
in the two "gentlemen" of the highway — being a
woman alone and at the dead of night.

And they disappeared, not greatly astonished.
For Frank's sake I had thrown them down some
money. Besides being "mother of refuge for
vagabonds," I reaped at that time in my little villa
a splendid testimonial from my above-mentioned

384

IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA

Hungarian cook. She told me the story herself in
her broken English-German.

" Gra Frau knows very well in what a filthy state
the last cook left everything. She was a pig ;
of course Madam dismissed her ! Then the butcher
came, and said the last cook had found you very
particular because you didn't let your kitchen be
made into a pigsty. Then I gave the butcher a piece
of my mind. I said, ' My lady is a real lady. She
doesn't look after anything and doesn't understand
anything — and that's a real lady.' "

There I had it, and at the same time her idea of
a lady !

One might still allude to funny episodes of quaint,
original creatures and strange personalities, and their
introduction into these reminiscences would surely
amuse and interest people as "human documents."
But they would extend my Memoirs ad infinitum,
and I must therefore postpone doing this until,
perhaps, some later period.

After much longing, the time of our return home
at last approached. Europe was opened up to
us once more. I related already how the Tsar
sequestrated my husband's entire fortune. After
long years of effort his excellent brother Senator von
Schewitsch had succeeded in neutralising this confisca-
tion, on the condition that we should return to Russia.

The idea was very welcome to me, because, with
the exception of California, I had never felt myself
at home in America. Serge, no doubt, felt it very
much to have to quit the field of his successful
political activity to return to a country where he could
find everything — except, indeed, political freedom.

But as we already had suffered too much under
the nightmare of pecuniary difficulties, we could
not fail to bless the prospect of relief from these.
Serge's fortune had considerably increased of late
years, owing to his inheritance from his deceased
mother, and the future appeared to us in a brilliant

385 2 c

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

light, in spite of the heavy heart with which the
"man of the people," who hung heart and soul to his
self-chosen work, had to bid farewell to all his devoted
ones.

If to-day, after having passed so many years in
the longed - for old world again, I look back on
our American sojourn, my experiences there seem
to me (even those which at the time appeared
worthless and uninteresting) to stand out in a much
more powerful light, and to be of the highest
importance to my development.

I went over there as a woman, hungering for life,
restlessly seeking, never knowing equipoise of soul,
always hoping to find in the next day, or even in
the next experience, that which everybody can find
within himself alone.

Even before crossing the ocean I had known
what trouble meant, and during the latter years had
learnt to battle with it a little, and unconsciously I
profited by this lesson. But it was only in America
that I went through the great school of practical life.
In it I learnt that everything in our fate takes place
in accordance with the iron law of cause and effect ;
that in every sorrow, as well as in every happiness, we
ourselves are the originators of our own deeds and
thoughts.

386

PART VIII

Scotland — London — Rewedded — Meeting H. P. Blavatsky
again— Return to Russia — Riga — Russian hospitality —
Severe illness — Berlin — At the portals of death — New
life.

387

CHAPTER XLI

In the spring of 1890 we returned to Europe in a
Scotch steamship, as I wished to pass the summer in
the Highlands.

How delighted we were when, in the dawn of a
summer morning, the beautiful green shores of old
Ireland rose up before our eyes ! Yet we only con-
sidered ourselves as really " home again " when the
ship stopped at Glasgow, and we left it, bidding
farewell to our kind captain.

Then followed a gloriously happy time in Scotland.
We, who had so thirsted for Europe, enjoyed the
beautiful Highlands with their towers, lakes, castles,
and mountains, more than others did. We had lived
too long in the matter-of-fact, dollar country not to
appreciate to the full the entire charm of places so
interwoven with legend. I found in every corner,
and in all the houses, palaces, and citadels of Glasgow,
Stirling, and Edinburgh, the atmosphere of the
days of unhappy Mary Stuart, of whom I was an
enthusiastic admirer. Darnley, Rizzio, Bothwell —
all stood before me in imagination, and beautiful
Mary Stuart herself had probably never lived more
really than she did then in my mind. Every varying
picture of her arose, although none of them could
reproduce the magical charm of the seductive woman,
who is as much revered to-day by her Scotsmen as
she was once when she languished, an unfortunate
prisoner, in the Tower of London.

We were delighted, above all, with Edinburgh —

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

the Athens of the North. It is really the most
beautiful and finely situated city in Europe, not even
excepting Naples and Geneva.

After a few all too fleeting weeks, we were obliged
to tear ourselves away from Scotland, for there was
still a difficulty before us which must be overcome.
According to Russian law, our marriage had to be
sanctioned by a "pope " of the Greek Catholic Church.
A civil marriage alone, such as ours in America, was
not sufficient to allow us to be regarded in Russia as
legally married. We resolved to let this religious
marriage take place in England, and went for this
purpose to London. We lived there quietly for a
time in the charming suburb of Teddington, with its
beautiful Bushey Park and Hampton Court.

Now came the ludicrous part of the situation.
We could not be married in accordance with Russian
law, because England regarded our previous marriage
as absolutely legal.

The Russian priest could not fulfil any ecclesi-
astical ceremony before the civil marriage had been
solemnised in London. At the Registry Office in
London we were asked what we wanted, as we were
already legally united. A marriage solemnised in
America is completely legal in England.

" But not in Russia ! " we exclaimed.

" But that has nothing to do with us ! As far as
we are concerned, you are married."

There we were 1 married both too much and too
little 1 At last we found hearing and consideration
with the Archimandrite of the Greek Church.

He demanded that the London Registry Office
should confirm the fact of our legal marriage in New
York ten years previously, and, when this had been
done, amid much laughter of the English officials,
who were unaccustomed to such continental con-
ditions, we were at last permitted to go through the
rather theatrical marriage ceremony in the beautiful
Greek church.

390

REMARRIAGE IN LONDON

So my husband Serge and I are in reality three
times married — first by the New York Registrar,
secondly by the confirmation of this by the London
Registrar, and thirdly by the Greek Church in
London.

Whether all this official riveting would have held
us together without our all-surviving love, I greatly
doubt.

The little winged god of Love, who was not to
be defied by age and changeful fate, was victorious
over all these human arrangements. Under his pro-
tection, as soon as we had accomplished the purpose
for which we had come to England, we travelled to
Russia again by water — home !

It was hard to part from the dear friends who had
shown us so much hospitality during the months we
had spent in England.

We had found our dear, faithful old friend, the
wonderful and much - discussed Helena Petro wna
Blavatsky, again in London, and passed several
weeks in her house, which was the headquarters of
the Theosophical Society. This stay in London
remains in my memory as the most interesting time
passed with interesting people. Names such as Annie
Besant and Herbert Burrows — both of whom were at
that time immersed in Socialism — were just then on
the point of taking the great step from a pure
materialistic standpoint to the views of Indian
theosophy, under the direction of the remarkable
and fascinating Blavatsky. As before stated, we
were already her adherents in New York, and were
now again under the spell of this woman, who was as
kind as she was intellectually great. I have already
devoted a little book especially to her and the teach-
ings which she first introduced to the West, so that I
must not dwell upon it at length here.

We were very anxious to reach Russia, Serge's
real home. We had decided to choose Riga as
our abode. Various reasons induced me to do this.

391

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

Petersburg and all the interior of Russia were out of
the question, being unsuited to my health. The
name Schewitsch was well known and respected in
Riga. My husband's eldest brother, a particularly
noble and humane man, had been Governor of
Livonia for a long time, and had made himself very
popular on account of his impartial dealings with
Germans, Lithuanians, and Russians. As, however,
his humane and unprejudiced attitude did not suit
the party then in power, he had been recalled from
his post just before our arrival, much to the regret of
all classes of this mixed population. Since then, he
occupies a much higher post in the service of the
State, but in Livonia his memory is treasured with
fidelity and reverence, mingled with longing regret.

This devotion to the brother paved the way to a
very pleasant sojourn for Serge. He resolved to take
up his old profession of barrister, on his own account,
instead of State service. He was especially fitted for
this, both on account of his eloquence, the knowledge
of the two national languages, and many other talents.

In order to accustom himself again to this pro-
fession, he entered the office of one of the lawyers in
Riga, and everybody prophesied a great future for
him, when, unfortunately, I became very ill, and this
put an end to his plans.

However, before speaking of this, I will relate
how warmly we were received in Riga. We had
alighted at the hotel "Frankfurter Hof," and were
very comfortable there, but nevertheless had intended
taking a flat. After the death of his mother, Serge
had inherited all her most valuable furniture, which
his brother the Senator had transported to the family
estate near Wilna Minsk, in order to save us the
expense of housing it, which would have amounted in
all those years to a very considerable sum. Every-
thing now was to be sent by van to Riga. This was
only possible during the winter, by sledge, on account
of the condition of the Russian roads.

392

HOSPITALITY IN RIGA

We should therefore have had to wait patiently
for several months had it not been that good-natured
help was offered us. Immediately on our arrival at
Riga we had met Consul Schnackenburg, the most
amiable old gentleman in the world. We soon made
friends with him and his clever, interesting wife, and
they came to see us one afternoon.

The Consul, leaning back comfortably with his
cup of tea, said in his kind way, " Now, listen, my
dear friends, to what my wife and I have thought of.
As a good old merchant, I am, of course, a good
reckoner, and have just made out that it would cost
a terrific sum of money if you were to keep this flat,
with everything, in this hotel. I therefore propose
to you that you should go at once and find a suitable
flat for yourselves."

"That is all very fine," I replied quickly. "No
matter how nice that may be, we shall only have our
furniture in the middle of the winter."

"Let me finish speaking, most beautiful and
dearest of women," replied the old gentleman, smiling.
" You find the dwelling, and my wife and I will take
the responsibility of everything else."

We both opened our eyes wide at this, and must
have looked blankly astonished, for the two dear old
people burst out laughing heartily. We neither of us
understood what they meant, until, stroking his long
snow-white beard, he continued, " In our gigantic
house, in the upper rooms, which are uninhabited, we
have enough furniture stored to fit up half a city.
We inherited it, and it is all good, solid old-fashioned
stuff. You will do us a favour if you will help us to
prevent the things being devoured by moths."

We were speechless, then the Consul's wife said,
" I will fill the sideboards and cupboards with linen,
glass and china, silver, and cooking utensils. In short,
you will have to trouble about nothing except moving
in."

Before we could realise that this inconceivable

393

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

thing was no fairy tale, before we could refuse to
accept so much kindness, the charming people were
pressing us to look for a flat immediately, and
we all started together to find a suitable place.
This was soon found, and we took six nice large
rooms, with three servants' rooms, balconies and
gardens. Within a few days they were completely
furnished with beautiful old furniture which would
have delighted the eye of any collector, all comfort-
able and solid — pictures, chandeliers, lamps, nicknacks ;
in fact, an entire furnishing in which no detail was
wanting, and into which we ensconced ourselves as
comfortably as if the things had belonged to us since
the time of our grandfathers.

We felt as if we had been transported to wonder-
land, and even to-day I regard the two touchingly
kind, noble old people as a species of fairy spirits, and
am eternally grateful to them. The old gentleman
has long since gone to his eternal rest, and I am glad
that my husband, after he had come into the posses-
sion of his fortune, was able to prove his gratitude by
rendering him a considerable service, and thus relieving
the kind old man's heart of a heavy care during his
last days. In reality, however, we could never repay
what this splendid old couple had done for us out of
pure warmth of heart.

They proved their kindness anew to me during
the time of my severe illness that same cruel winter.

I was obliged to remain in bed the whole winter,
and suffered unspeakably. Then the dear old Consul
drove out to the country himself, in the bitter cold, to
procure new-laid eggs (the only nourishment I could
take for a long time). He brought the little basket
containing them to my bedside, with the most pathetic
care, and found sufficient reward in a smile from his
poor sick friend.

Blessed be his memory for all time !

• •*•••

In consequence of this severe illness, I got to know

394

SEVERE ILLNESS

very few people in Riga. In the spring — still very
ill — I was taken to the coast.

The sympathy that the dear Schnackenburgs had
shown us seemed to have extended almost to the
entire population of Riga, as we received proofs of
kindness from all sides. When, after nearly a year,
I was removed to Berlin for a serious operation, half
the town followed the stretcher on which I lay to the
port. I was deeply moved at the many blessings that
were showered on me, also at the sympathy proffered
by many people I did not know, who kissed my hands
and the hem of my garments.

Quite as much sympathy was shown me on the
steamer which took us to Stettin. My dear doctor
Von Haacke, whom I shall never forget, and the good
captain of the ship carried me down to my cabin
themselves, and put me to bed with motherly care.
Thus I preserved only nice memories of my dear
Riga. Later on, they all confessed that none of them
had ever hoped to see me again ; they considered me
doomed. Even my excellent doctor had not hidden
from me that the approaching operation was a life or
death one, and that there was only one man in the
world with whom there was a chance of success, and
that was Doctor Olshausen of the Berlin University.
Although it was very risky, after a long consultation
with my husband, I decided upon it, because I saw
how much he hung upon the only possibility of saving
my life, and how ready he was for every sacrifice of
money and patience.

At that time the Baltic provinces were passing
through a very interesting political phase, in which the
seed was sown for that dreadful revolution which took
place after 1905, when the small and once so flourish-
ing provinces of Livonia, Esthland, and Courland
almost perished.

In the year 1890 the Russian language was made
obligatory in schools. A cry of indignation arose in
consequence amongst the German nobility and the

395

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

" literate." The last term is used to describe all those
of that strange little country on the furthermost
shores of the Baltic who have enjoyed a university
education, such as doctors, jurists, theologians, and
philosophers, even if they have never been actively
employed in literary work, according to the con-
ception of our Western European ideas.

Sensible and unprejudiced people do not regard
the matter in a tragic light, for the Russian Govern-
ment had been threatening for twenty years to
Russianise jthe Baltic provinces ; and although one
does not wish to defend this, the threatened evil
might have been avoided, if the children, who were at
least Russian subjects, had earlier been made to learn
Russian as well as German. The Lithuanians, that
is to say, the people, were more clever. They had
mostly had their children taught in the Russian
language, and were more easily able to conform
now to the enforced law. One could but feel sorry
for the little scholars, who, from one day to another,
and without understanding a word, were compelled
to do all their school tasks — reading, writing, and
arithmetic — in Russian; but sympathy with the
children strengthened anger against the parents for
ignoring all wisdom and foresight, and placing the
little ones in this position. One could but admire the
quiet and continuous work of the Lithuanians, who
were so despised by the Germans, and who had already
caused their offspring to be taught in Russian, or
now set everything in motion in order to facilitate
their learning the Government language in as short a
time as possible.

Yes, these contemptuous Germans !

They had been living for centuries in the country
whose original inhabitants were just these Lithuanians
and Esthonians, and instead of going hand in hand
with them against their Russian oppressors, instead of
gaining a little the love of the people on whom in all
serious moments they were materially dependent (as

396

THE ANXIOUS PILOT

had been shown these last years), they kept them in
humiliating submission, shook their fists at them, and
treated them, in all conditions of life, with the greatest
contempt. The worst term of reproach the Germans
there could use was, " He is a Lithuanian." They
sowed the wind, and to-day, of course, reap the
whirlwind. They treated them on the same principle
as the Americans treat the blacks ; and as they
behaved similarly to the Russians, the consequence
was that they stood alone in their hour of need, and
had cultivated enemies on all sides. The Germans
may have found a certain satisfaction in showing their
haughtiness towards, and contempt of, other nations,
but their behaviour was certainly not wise from a
political point of view.

■ •••••

So we left Riga in September, just a year after
our arrival, and were approaching a future full of
anxiety. It was only my poor husband who was so
anxious, for neither before nor after in my life did I
feel so happy, so calm, and so collected as in those
days before the operation. How the people around me
regarded my fate and chances of life was clearly visible
in a comical little episode which took place on the
steamer. Our pilot was an original old Pommeranian,
and it seems I had struck him by my deathly paleness
and suffering appearance. During the fine weather
that accompanied our arrival in Stettin, after heavy
storms, I was on deck lying on the stretcher I had
brought with me from Riga, and lay there peacefully,
rejoicing at the universal kindness and sympathy that
everybody offered me. The old pilot came up to me
and said in an impossible dialect, and with pathos,
" Good gracious, my little daughter, what do you look
like ? What is the matter with you ? "

I told him also that I was being taken to Berlin
for a serious operation.

" Oh, gracious, my little daughter, you are going
to certain death, you look like a corpse already.

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PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

No, little daughter, no, you will never get over it!
You are too ill ! "

I was obliged to laugh heartily at this peculiar
way of expressing sympathy. The old man gave me
various bits of advice. "I was not to trust the
doctors, for they often did such foolish things. My
husband ought to look after me properly, etc."

Ridiculous as these words were, he meant well by
them ; and when we landed in Stettin, nothing could
prevent him, in spite of his dignity as pilot, from assist-
ing our man-servant and a bearer to carry me on shore.

In the meantime, in Berlin my dear and faithful
friend Siegwart Friedmann had arranged everything
for my comfort, and in a first-class private hotel we
could quietly await the day that was to see me taken
to the clinique.

Here again I had touching proofs of the most
noble human kindness. Women with whom I was
not even intimate, but with whom I was merely on a
friendly intellectual footing, travelled long distances
to Berlin when they heard of the difficult time I had
to go through, in order to stand by me and stay with
me until the last moment. All who came near me
were astonished to see how happy and collected I was
in meeting this decisive hour.

I have made it a duty to myself not to touch on
the occult and supernatural side of my manifold life
in these Memoirs, therefore I cannot relate how I
arrived at this feeling of unlimited calm and happiness.
Let this much only be disclosed, that all this was
closely connected with my studies of the ancient
Indian Vedanta philosophy, and with my theosophical
views of life.

That wonderful and oldest of all philosophies
teaches us what we all bear within us from time im-
memorial ; that death is only a change of condition ;
that our body is merely the clothing of a spirit which
is everlasting, ever developing, ever reborn in a new
form.

398

VIEWS ON DEATH

That truth was newly awakened within us by
Madame H. P. Blavatsky, and lived in Goethe when
he said to Eckermann, " If I work ceaselessly until
my end, nature is bound to bestow on me another
form of being when my present one is no longer
capable of harbouring my spirit."

Who could fear death if this great truth had
become as convincing as it was to me, as convincing
as the feeling of this present earthly life ? Yes, who,
standing within the truth, would not greet the
"earnest friend" in gladness and silent happiness ? if,
suffering as I was, he felt his present body only a
burden, that hindered him from completing that which
the Spirit had recognised as the ideal, and a necessity
to him ? I was thus in an uplifted and happy mood,
far from e very-day life, raised aloft in a spiritual atmo-
sphere, into which no earthly terror, no fear of death,
nor petty earthly considerations could penetrate.

My nurses also said during these last days and
hours, " This is unearthly ! We have never seen
such a state of mind before a life and death operation."

How often I have wished since then that I could
feel once more that sensation of happiness, that
exalted peace and illumination, which came to me
during those days when all the loving ones round me
looked on me with uncomprehending kindness, full
of compassion. Later on, when I was given back to
the world's turmoil, I never found it again. One
thing only has remained to me : I know no fear of
death. Indeed, there lies within me a certain yearn-
ing love towards the all-healing God, and in His hour
of triumph I hope that I shall find once again the
ecstatic uplifting of that time.

399

CHAPTER XLII

I found in my genial operator, Professor Dr. Robert
Olshausen, a kind and considerate man, who charmed
me at once.

Shortly before the great day, he and I had a long
discussion, in which the clever man said to me, " You
see, I must have just as great confidence in your
strength and vitality as you have in my science,
otherwise we shall not succeed, and I cannot perform
the operation." At the same time, he looked at me
so convincingly with his kind, eager blue eyes, that,
inspired for " our " task, I stretched out both hands
towards him and exclaimed, "Now, you can make
mincemeat of me ! It is all the same to me — I don't
mind ! "

Well, it was almost that ! When the Professor
opened me up, he found my interior in such a
desperate condition that he shook his head and said,
"No, I can't do it ; it is impossible."

He only performed the operation on being per-
suaded to do so by his assistants. The terrible task
lasted three hours and a half, instead of three quarters
of an hour, as he had supposed possible in the worst
case.

My poor husband had to wait in anguish of soul
all that time in the doctor's private room. Three
dreadful hours, that might well count in a man's life !
When the doctor went in to him, tired to death, and
pale from the terrible exertion, the ominous words
were uttered, "The operation is over, but your wife

400

RECOVERY FROM ILLNESS

will scarcely be able to survive the day, for it is almost

certain that peritonitis will set in ; and then "

The exhausted doctor sadly left my despairing Serge.

Then Siegwart Friedmann proved to him his deep
and encompassing friendship. He cared for him as a
brother, and helped him over those dreadful days.

But the great surgeon had made a mistake ; and
this I realised in my subconsciousness, when the
physician still despaired of being able to rouse me from
the heavy narcosis into which I had fallen. / knew
it. I had to live, and experience still much — very
much — joy and sorrow.

My operators and nurses called me for many years
"the miracle of the clinique of the Berlin University,"
just as I still call that splendid man, Professor Dr.
Olshausen, my "second mother." Life was given me
through him a second time.

Let me here openly express once more my deep,
inward, and lasting thanks to him and his great science,
thanks which the kind, modest, learned man always
turned aside with touching simplicity whenever I
spoke of it to him personally. " Do not thank me for
your recovery," he then said, "but yourself and your
own wonderful nature. You are, and remain, a
miracle." Very well ! Certainly my strong and ever
recuperative constitution was a good supporter of his
science ; but how far would my "nature" have taken
me, without his knowledge, his courage, his small,
sure, skilful hands ? Therefore the splendid man,
whether he will or not, must accept my thanks, with
those of hundreds of others whose lives have been
saved by him.

• ... ■

My force and relative recovery came back to me,
but very slowly. Then, as now, I realised the truth of
what the doctors told me before the operation, when
they said that I should only make a relative recovery,
and never again be as capable of resistance as one who
had never gone through this dreadful illness.

401 2D

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

I have remained a sickly woman, with heart and
nerves weakened for ever.

Nevertheless the happiest years of my life followed
these times of sickness.

The Tsar had restored all rights of possession to
my husband, and we revelled in the well-being of our
material means.

In order to offer me as much facility as possible
for my recovery, we travelled for six years. We
kept a pied-a-terre in Munich, as in this keenly
artistic town, where the advantages of a big city are
united so pleasantly with those of not too big a one,
we felt ourselves the most at home.

We passed the winter in Naples, Florence,
Montreux, and the summer in Switzerland. The
autumn generally brought us back to Munich.

How I enjoyed all this ! Just as completely as I
had peacefully and calmly closed with life, I now
enjoyed all that which I had won back again, and to
the full.

I owe my highest delights to nature, and two
wonderful sublime moments stand out with particular
clearness in my soul.

The first time was when I went on the funicular
railway to Monte Salvatore, and was lifted above the
lake of Lugano, a year and a half after my life was
saved. I could not mount to the summit, as walking
was very difficult for me, but I sat just beneath it, on a
beautifully situated bench, and waited for Serge, who
had mounted to the top. Before me lay the panorama
of the eternal snow giants, from Monte Rosa to the
Jungfrau, in overwhelming glory.

Before my soul arose the picture of the woman,
sick unto death, who had been transported on a
stretcher to Berlin, amid the compassion of others ;
and I compared the picture of that time with this, if
not strong yet comparatively healthy woman, full of
the joy of life, seated here, high above mighty preci-
pices, allowed to stand above all the pettv doinffs

402 J *

SUBLIME MOMENTS

of the world, and intoxicate herself with the magnifi-
cence of God's nature in an infinite feeling of happiness.
There are moments of excessive feeling that can only
be realised by those to whom death has appeared, as
with me, after a long illness, in the shape of a longed-
for but happily avoided deliverer. A mood of such
near proximity to God, and such gratitude, cannot
be expressed in mere words. Loving thoughts of
blessing flowed too across to my "second mother,"
Professor Olshausen, to whom I owed also this hour
of highest ecstasy.

The second of such very rare moments came one
early morning on the summit of the Wengern Alp,
where we spent a few weeks of the next summer,
which was a very hot one. By this time I saw my
way more clearly in life, had revelled in many entranc-
ing scenes in the most distant south and in the farthest
north, and thanks to the never-failing care of my
husband, had been able to enjoy everything that love
and material means could give. I had got accustomed
to happiness.

That night, far up in the simple little hotel of the
Wengern Alp, was an exceptional one. I could not
sleep because the full moon, in magical beauty in the
heavens, threw an almost uncanny rosy light on the
mountain kings Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau, so that
the eternal snow glistened like gold dust. Again
and again this glory of God drew me to the window.
In the immense stillness of the loneliness of the
mountains, the thundering of the avalanches, that
crashed from time to time from the opposite heights,
was the only earthly sound. It was as if one heard
the breath of God, and in deepest reverence one's
heart stood almost still.

The highest and all-surpassing beauty was yet
to be beheld. The moon paled. The next time
I went to the window a faint gleam lay over the
immeasurable snow, and I was about to withdraw,
sighing that this remembrance also should slip away

403

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

into the past. My eyes were still turned towards the
silver summit of the Jungfrau when — I shall never
forget that moment — the extreme point of the summit
glittered like a gigantic diamond in athousand prismatic
colours — a gleam of the rising star of the morning
had touched it!

All around me lay the pale light of dawn. Perhaps
in that second I had beheld a picture that thus, and
only thus, can appear once at that particular moment
of the year (as the sunrise always takes place at a
different angle over this summit). The spectacle
lasted only one fleeting second ; then the king of
day appeared, dispersing the grey veil of the morning
in proud, glowing supremacy. Once more I was
shaken to the depths of my soul, thankful that I was
allowed to witness this, and to enjoy it thus. A
great joy leapt up in my heart, which, more surely
than the most fervent prayer of thanks, penetrated
to the infinite goodness of the Great Almighty.

404

CHAPTER XLIII

In the years that lay between those most happy ones
of my life and to-day — when I transcribe these
reminiscences — I had to pass through much sorrow and
the greatest difficulties. Of these I shall say nothing.
Most of the people who caused my sorrow are still
alive, and, as I have learnt much — very much — from
this bitter sorrow, and as it has always led me to
higher development and purified me to find a deep
understanding of the logical guidance of fate, I will
bless even this experience, and wander peacefully
onwards to the end.

During these years my spirit knew also much
gladness, through newly forged bonds of friendship,
as well as the meeting once more with dear old
friends of bygone times. They all had remained
as faithful as if we had parted but yesterday —
Franz von Lenbach, Paul Lindau, Ludwig Barnay,
Adolf Sonnethal, Felix Philippi, Fifi Gosemann, the
Countess von Prokesch-Osten, and many others.
More especially I was touched by the devotion of
women. There were, and still are, some who, during
all the years in which life had tossed me about in
wild struggles, who themselves never diverged a hair's
breadth from the stereotyped path allotted to them
by prescribed circumstances, and who were highly
esteemed in the elevated position they occupied in life,
welcomed me on my return home as a long-missed
friend and "prodigal son" — as such I had to regard
myself — for whom they gleefully killed the fatted calf,

405

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

With them, these truly refined and noble souls,
it is granted to me to close the evening of my days.

Among the eminent men with whom later on friend-
ship brought me into contact, the genial Norwegian
Bjornstjerne Bjornson stands out for me as the most
interesting. A truly magnificent man, as warm-
hearted and inspiring a poet as a man. We made
his acquaintance, and that of his elderly but still
beautiful wife, at a time when he had just com-
pleted his Konig.

I raved about his play Beyond Human Power,
which had just appeared in German, and placed this
wonderful work far beyond the Konig.

This led to a long controversy in our own house.
He particularly recommended his Konig to me,
for, as with most creators, his last work seemed to
him to be his most valued one. I often had to read
it aloud to him, and he drew my attention to the
beauties of every part that had become especially dear
to him. I conceded these beauties to him very
willingly, but they could not touch Beyond Human
Power. Then he stood up before me, the wonderful
old athlete, his beautiful, white curly hair standing
straight up, and the large glowing eyes flashing
toward me, defending his "youngest child," whilst
I championed glowingly his "last but one."

We were two enthusiasts, who very soon under-
stood each other in close friendship. There was no
more interesting man on earth than the splendid old
son of the North when he reared himself up, his
thoughts gushing forth upon some great idea.

His faulty and often most funny German, blended
with other languages, lent him yet another and
especial charm. I shall never forget one evening
when we were conversing on the Dreyfus affair,
which was then the great theme. It was delightful
to hear the enthusiastic poet rave about the work of
salvation that quite engrossed him. My husband
answered him, and the two great orators offered

406

bjOrnstjerne rjOrnson

us, who were allowed to listen to them, an intellectual
feast.

Although agreeing on the main points, their
views often strongly diverged in details. Bjornson
would not see that Schwarzkoppen had not been able
to give up the documents in question without making
himself a traitor to Germany. Serge defended his
manner of acting, and the old Viking, much to our
amusement, became quite indignant, and did not spare
strong language ; but we had never seen him so
human and so eager over his subject. We enjoyed
even his coarseness — for it showed his great strong
nature, which, wherever it entered the lists for the
oppressed and unhappy, acknowledged neither con-
sideration nor reason. He fought like his Norse
forefathers, hurling blocks of stone around him. Woe
to him who stood in his way ! they hit without regard
to persons.

He was also splendid when he spoke of his beloved
Norway, and of his aged mother (who lived still,
at that time, and from whom he had inherited his
never-failing good spirits), and of the splendid patri-
archal customs of his country.

We also naturally discussed Ibsen, and I said
that I could not agree with the later works of the
great "describer of people." They seemed to me
unnatural and made up. I raved about his earlier
works, but I only could keep pace with him as far as
Die JVildente.

At first he laughed joyfully: " You dare to say
what I always think, and never have the courage
to express ! But you call my great friend and poet-
colleague a * describer of persons ' ? " Now he became
quite serious, and the glowing eyes looked pensive,
as if he saw far out beyond all that surrounded him,
far into his distant northern land. "Yes, he has
certainly created types of all sorts of men in Nora
and Rosmersholm, and his most brilliant work is
Peer Gynt. Yet he told the world something untrue

407

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

when he made them believe that our Norwegian folk
are such a dismal, brooding, melancholy crew as he
portrays them. No, we are jolly, lively fellows,
going forth full of life and courage to meet destiny.
No, we are no Ibsen people ! "

I believed him, for as he and his whole radiantly
happy family presented themselves, the Norwegians
formed a happy, sunny picture. But the old
grumbler up yonder was probably right also. Each
great poet regarded his people through the medium
of his own nature, and intensified the picture with
genius and art.

I made another valuable friendship through
Bjornson. One fine afternoon the couple paid us a
visit, and scarcely were we seated — he with a little
glass of punch, and we ladies with our cup of tea —
when Frau Caroline began: "Listen, Bjornstjerne
comes to you with a request, in which I join him."

I looked at him eagerly. " Yes, you read Amely
Skram's novel Verraten with so much delight."

I replied, " You can truthfully say * with en-
thusiasm,' just as I did her magnificent and terrifying
work Professor Hieronymus"

"Well, the poor thing is so dreadfully unhappy.
We have just come from Copenhagen, where we
found her so miserable that she did nothing but
weep. You can help her, Madame Helene," he
concluded, and looked at me convincingly. My
heart beat high in excitement and joy. " I," I said,
astonished ; " how ? "

" Write to her," he said.

" Yes, but what ? " I asked most eagerly.

"Only just as you are — nothing very especial.
What she needs is a warm-hearted human being.
She is only surrounded by Da-a-a-nes " (he drew the
word out with all the mockery and contempt which
the Norwegian has for the sister nation). "Write
to her from the heart—; from your heart That will
console her."

408

AMELY SKRAM

I was very happy at this confidence in me, went
at once to work, wrote to her about her magnificent
and terrible books, which I knew from the Bjornst-
j ernes were based on horrors she had gone through
herself. I offered her my close friendship through
the intermediary of our esteemed friend Bjornstjerne
and his wife Caroline.

Almost by return of post came her wonderful
answer. She was happy, and touchingly grateful,
as the great poet had foreseen, and our correspondence
grew more and more intimate. Her last letter shall
find a place here. It ran thus :

Kjbhavn (abbreviation for Copenhagen),
Hasersgade 11, 30/4/'97.

Honoured and dear Woman — What have you thought
of me during this long time that has passed since I received
your portrait and your so amiable letter ? Oh, I have thought
of you so often, so often — have looked so frequently at the two
faces, and was so grateful for everything — everything. What a
handsome couple you are — you and your husband.

I will try and write in English, German is so insupportably
difficult to me. It makes one sorry not to be able to say what
one wishes, but only what one is able to.

Then followed in English :

Do not be vexed with me for having been silent for so long.
I have just passed through a difficult time — not only because I
had such a bad illness, but because all kinds of care and misfor-
tune came upon me.

I am trying to reproduce the original and faulty
expression of her English. She continues :

There are times in the lives of people when it seems that
one cannot bear it any longer, and yet it is of no use speaking
of it. Nobody can help the other ; we must bear everything
alone, quite, quite alone — and try to battle through it all.

Here follow a few solely personal and family
allusions. Then :

I could not avert the misfortune — no, no — one cannot
help another— it is like this in the world. But you are happy,

409

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

are you not ? I can see it in your picture, and more still in
the noble face of your husband. You must thank him ten
thousand times for having sent me his drama (this was a modern
Russian tragedy reproduced in several theatres, and called
Elena Prawdin). The piece is magnificent, with the exception
of the last act. There are the most beautiful things and
thoughts in this work. I read it with breathless excitement,
but the last act ought to be altered.

My husband read it, and is of the same opinion as I am.
He was very enthusiastic over the first acts. He would like
very much to translate it for the Danish stage ; he has translated
many plays, and he has much luck with them in Scandinavia,
and is very well known as a poet. He has not written as many
books as I, but they are much better than mine [an amiable
but hardly applicable modesty].

The letter ends :

Oh, my dear, unknown friend, how much I wish you under-
stood my language [Danish], when I could speak to you so
much better from the depths of my heart, could tell you of the
joy I felt on receiving your letter, in all the warm-hearted
words with which you speak to me.

German now followed the English :

Why are you ill ? you ask. Why ? Fate has willed it.

My constitution was so strong — so strong — otherwise I
should have died long ago. I have suffered so much— so much
in my life, and perhaps I have only myself to thank for it.
Everything one sees depends upon the point of view. Yes,
what good can it do ? One can't alter one's self. But now
adieu ! With a thousand greetings. — Your friend,

Amely Skram.

On reading through my letter, I see there must be faults.

Shortly before receiving this strange letter the
heaviest sorrow fell upon me. I will not write about
it here, as the people who were the cause of it are
still living ; and therefore I will be silent. At
that time I was in such dark despair that I could no
longer send cheerful, life-giving thoughts to Amely
Skram, who was also fighting desperately against her
fate. Our correspondence ceased, and a few years
later Death too robbed us of this clever woman and

410

BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON

poetess. During that time of my deepest sorrow
and anguish of heart there was a delightful meeting
again with Bjornstjerne and his high-minded wife
Caroline. They were in Munich again for a short
time, but I lived in a little villa a good way out of
town, so that the old gentleman could not reach me
so easily. I therefore inquired when I could visit
him, and received the following reply :

Munich, 4/12/1897.
Dear Frau Schewitsch — Come when you like — our meals
are at twelve and five. I go for a walk now and then. Just
send a card and I will stay at home. I understood everything
by your letter. You, with your full heart always ready to
think and hope for the best. I understand — I understand.
Come here when you like, since I cannot come to you. — Yours
most sincerely, Bjornstjerne Bjornson.

When I arrived there, and told them of my deep
trouble, the two dear people wept with me ; and, in
spite of Amely Skram's doubts, their noble and truly
human sympathy helped to lighten the burden which
lay so heavily on my sore heart. I am eternally
grateful for this hour to Bjornstjerne and his wife
Caroline.

Yes, it was a delightful inspiring time when their
family made Munich a sort of second home. It
ended with the political contests of Albert Langens,
Bjornstj erne's son-in-law, who was editor of Simplicis-
simus when it first came out. My husband, persuaded
by Bjornstjerne, also contributed to this paper.

They all left for Paris and Norway, and even now
I miss the charming people terribly.

Serge could not so easily adopt the tone of
Simplitissimus, and if he had continued, might have
exposed himself to serious unpleasantness on account
of being a foreigner, and especially a Russian.

Therefore he dissolved his connection with the
publication, and turned to other interests. He wrote
a great deal for important papers — novels and political
articles — also composed many plays, which were

411

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

performed with great success at various theatres, and
which were brought out under a pseudonym.

One of these, Tama, fired Francisca Elmenreich
and Katie Schratt with such enthusiasm, that both
of them included it in their repertoire in America.

After many years' absence I met Franz yon
Lenbach once more during my last stay in Munich.
We found him giving the finishing touches to his
palatial residence in the Louisen Strasse. I had
known him in his first modest beginnings, and he
now showed me with great pride over the splendid
building, in which, a short time previously, he had
had the privilege of entertaining his deeply honoured
Bismarck.

I was quite touched when I noticed his almost
childish joy at the magnificence to which he had
attained.

At that time electric lighting in private houses
was something quite new. Lenbach had had it
installed and, "What a beautiful white light. It
shows up all the colours better than daylight," he
said, proving it to us at once by drawing the curtains
and demonstrating the difference. "If I paint in

the evening, as I mostly do " he added.

" Why do you paint at night ? " I asked ; " that is
surely bad for your eyes."

"To earn bread and butter for wife and child,"
he answered laughingly, and pointing with his brush
to his beautiful wife, who was just entering. It was
his first wife, and at that time they were expecting
the birth of their eldest daughter Marion (who arrived
a few days later).

The master immortalised her later in many of
his paintings, and, according to me, she had inherited
all the delicate beauty of her mother, a beauty which
possessed for me an infinite charm.

I had hoped to be able to show my husband a
portrait which Lenbach had painted of me in my
youth, and which, although it had never been very

412

FRANZ VON LENBACH

like me, was extremely interesting, and represented
me as I was in my twentieth year. However, the
master confessed to me, a little hesitatingly, that he
had sold it to a friend and admirer of mine, at his
special request. There was nothing to be done.

A photograph of this portrait was published in
1887 by Paul Hennig in Berlin in the book entitled
The Sorrows of Lassalle.

Yet a few words about the kindness of the great
artist.

At a time when he was very ill I met one of his
most intimate friends in society. The illness of the
man, who was so dear to both our hearts, was of
course the chief topic of our conversation. Our
friend, who saw him daily, related how bravely he
bore his illness and the presentiment of death, and
added, " With his decease many a young artist will
lose an ever-ready helper ; one who never refused a
request for assistance, and who responded bountifully
to the same. How many thousands have passed
through my hands alone for this purpose ! "

A short time after this conversation the great
and noble master departed this life. A talk I had
once with him when he was in full vigour shows
how simple and modest he had remained, in spite of
the impression to the reverse he so often made on
strangers. He asked me what my chief occupations
were, for, he added, " I know of old that you are a
wonderfully industrious woman, and are never idle."

" Theosophy ! " I answered (I was then writing
my book Wie ich mein Selbstfand).

"Oh, with old Indian philosophy !" he exclaimed
at once.,

I was surprised that he knew anything about it,
for at that time very few people had a notion of it.
I nodded affirmatively, and he continued, "That is
nothing for me, for it demands asceticism and a
deadening of the senses."

"Not before we are ripe for the same," I replied,

413

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

for the doctrine forbids us to act contrary to our
nature, as nothing would be gained by it. Man is
only fitted for the highest development after he has
passed through all earthly experiences meant for him,
not only in this life but in many lives and incarna-
tions. To this certainly asceticism belongs.

"I am of the opinion of Schopenhauer and
Humboldt," I added, "that the theosophical point of
view — the knowledge of this wonderful philosophy —
makes one happier and better, even when set in the
midst of life, and when the deadening of the senses
would be an impossibility."

.Lenbach had listened very attentively and said,
"Yes, perhaps. Very well, when I have time I
shall be glad to occupy myself with such exalted
things. Just now I have none, because of my
painting here."

As usual, when one visited him in his studio, he
had not put down palette or brush, and went on
painting. He often used his visitor as a model, if
only for little touches. "Not only my painting
leaves me no time, but, as you know, I am an
ignorant, unlettered man of peasant origin, and I
devote every spare moment to making this good. I
read nothing but the ancient classics, chiefly Greek
and Roman, for I learn most from them. You see, I
must first digest these before I attempt anything
else, — like a schoolboy," he continued, laughing. I
was touched by his simplicity, and the way the
famous master spoke of his ignorance and willingness
to learn. He was great enough not to fear smallness.

In addition to these celebrities, another great
person entered my life during these last years, one
who has often reminded me of Lenbach, in her
amiable childlike simplicity and modesty, Helene
Boehlau, Frau Al-Raschid Bey. When we first met
in the houses of mutual friends we did not feel in the
least attracted towards each other, but rather repelled,
until we were both told that our natures had so many

414

HELENE BOEHLAU

things in common that we ought to meet more
intimately, understand each other, and become closer
friends. And this was true.

Helene Boehlau's strange husband was a German-
Russian subject, and became a Turk (Al-Raschid
Bey) in order to be able to marry the high-minded
woman whom he dearly loved. In him I found a
sympathetic friend. He is a philosopher, and
although he objects to calling his philosophy and
comparative religious sciences theosophy (a certain
odium always attaches itself to this word), it is never-
theless extremely like it. Al-Raschid Bey has his
peculiarities, one of which is, he always goes about in
Turkish costume. Short-sighted people have made
fun of this, but / understand that he uses it as a sort
of symbol, or, better still, as a visible demonstration of
the fact that he became, and is, a Turk, in order to
be able to marry, honour, and protect his beloved
wife. Helene Boehlau Al-Raschid Bey is quite a
wonderful woman — well worth the sacrifice of father-
land and prejudices. German jurisdiction would
have done better to allow exceptional circumstances
to hold good for such an exceptional man, but this
was not the case. I have no need to discuss here
what Helene Boehlau is as author and poet, but to
deal alone with the original and broad-minded woman.
She was brought up in the city of Goethe, and
nourished, so to say, on his traditions. She appears
to me always as a relict of Goethe, she is so avid of
beauty, so unconventional, so true and real. There
is no pettiness in her nature, and no comprehension
of smallness in others. Petty -minded people simply
fall away from her, and leave no traces in her life.
But she gathers round her everything that can satisfy
her craving for art and beauty, every one who shows
talent in any direction. She inspires them with her
own enthusiasm, which is totally devoid of envy, and
she finds a friendly word for every aspirant and an
appreciative hand-pressure for every arrive. Thus

415

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

she assembles in her house a circle of distinguished
people, and Germany's greatest could consider it an
honour to be admitted there.

In conclusion, I will touch on one more friendly-
meeting which took place at the Hotel Bellevue in
Dresden, where we were staying during our travels.
While chatting at the table d'hdte I noticed that
my vis-a-vis, a short, active-looking old gentleman,
stared steadily at me. I looked at him, but he
recalled no remembrance of any kind whatever to
me. A neighbour said to him, "Ah, General, you
here," just as I was asking my husband for a glass
of water.

The old gentleman seized the water - bottle in
front of him and said, " Allow me, Madam, to "

The moment I heard his voice I exclaimed joy-
fully, "Korff!"

Quite moved, he stretched out both hands towards
me and exclaimed, " Of course ! I knew you the
moment you came in, and have stared at you ever
since, hoping you would recognise me. I beg your
husbands pardon a thousand times, but" (turning to
Serge) "my name is General Baron Korff, and I
am one of your wife's oldest friends." We were soon
all three in animated conversation. My old friend
came to see me in the afternoon, and all that
remained by which I could recognise the wild,
brilliant Korff of the Berlin days was his charm of
conversation and his shrewd sparkling eyes. The tall
cavalier, who had been so proud of his elegant figure,
was now a short, active, but rather stout old man. He
was as gallant as ever, for when I went up to my
drawing-room, after taking coffee in the garden, a
lovely basket of roses awaited me with his card.
Then he came himself, and we chatted for hours,
conjuring up the old Berlin epoch of 1862-1868 inter-
woven with all its intellectual memories. We talked
of Lassalle with sadness and deep sorrow, talked of
all the friends who had met round the table in the

416

BARON KORFF

Bellevue Strasse, and of whom Korff had said that he
was the only one who was not a celebrity.

I reminded him of a surprise he had once given
me. I had returned from a stay in Berlin — it may
have been in the year 1867 — and on entering my
salon I found an arrangement of plants, in the centre
of which stood the wonderful bust of Ferdinand
Lassalle by the great sculptor Begas, which I had
long wished for. I could now thank the General for
another proof of friendship, for since he had given
me the bust I had not seen him again.

A pamphlet was to appear in the 'seventies that
treated of Lassalle's death in a manner inimical to
me — which at that time was nothing very unusual.
Korff had found out that this one was especially
vindictive and spiteful in tone, and my faithful friend
had bought up the entire printed edition, caused it to
be destroyed, and took steps to prevent its re-
appearance. Only now was I able to express my
gratitude to him for this, which I did, whilst pressing
his old wrinkled hand.

We parted, and corresponded from time to time
until his death. He sent me the reminiscences of
his travels brightly and cleverly written. He con-
tinued his journeys, which extended almost over the
entire globe, till within a short time of his demise,
and he had the felicity of being able to say of himself
in his seventy-fifth year : w I was never ill in my life,
and never had any misfortunes in my life, except the
pain of losing, through death, a few faithful friends."
A privileged statement !

In speaking of this happy friend, let me conclude
my memoirs by thanking all my other friends once
more for every beautiful and inspiring hour which
they have contributed to my life. They have assisted
me to purer, higher development, and the memory of
these dear ones glorifies the evening of my life even
to its close.

417 2e

CONCLUSION

Those who have wandered with me down the long
road of my life, and who, I hope, have approached
me in something of a friendly spirit, may allow me to
repeat the question I placed at the beginning of my
memoirs : " Had I anything to tell worthy of interest,
which could help others over a dark hour ? "

I say once more, " Yes, I hope so 1 " I think
that one fact stands out in this very complicated life
of mine, and that is, that no one need despair or lose
courage.

Good human material will and must aspire to
attain the light in spite of all hindrances, and the
dark abysses of one's nature. These very hindrances
and obscurities may, in a fundamentally healthy
nature, be even a spur to overcome them and to rise
more quickly when the sun beckons with its warmth.
Heredity may prove a powerful adjunct ; my Viking
heritage, with all its drawbacks of wild passion, be-
stowed at the same time a certain initial force.
Strength, coupled with love, is the highest attribute
of the human soul — love in its ideal sense, undimmed
by sensual passion, purified, and seeking to ally itself
with the universal Alliebe.

As I to-day make a comprehensive survey of my
life, with its clouded depths, its dark chasms, its
flower-strewn valleys, its emancipated heights, through
and over all of which my path lay, it presents itself
to me as an entire whole. No smallest bypath, no
most obscure little corner, and no sunniest spot must

419

PRINCESS HELENE VON RACOWITZA

be left unmentioned, for each one helps to bind to-
gether the continuity of my life, to forge my fate,
and to lead logically to the building up of the develop-
ment that formed my present individuality — myself.

I must confess that I agree with Weininger when
he says that an eminent man is naturally more super-
stitious than a mediocre one. I believe that every
being who crossed my path for good or ill had an
influence on my ultimate ego and infinite develop-
ment. I learnt something from every one — even the
least of them, often consciously, more often uncon-
sciously ; sometimes only understanding the schooling
after long years, sometimes even not to this hour.

It is not surprising that with this deeper com-
prehension the wider love of humanity has come over
me, and constitutes my happiness. I have learnt to
seek in all those who step into my circle only those
qualities that can elevate and rejoice the soul — to
ignore the lesser ones, and to act in accordance with
these words of Goethe : " If we were always careful
enough in uniting friends to us from one side, and
this the one most harmonious to ourselves, without
taking the rest of their being into consideration, then
friendships would be far more lasting and continuous.
But generally it is a fault of youth, and one we do
not lay aside even in old age, that we seek another
self in our friend, and demand of him that only when
he is at one with us, should he be able to form an
entire whole."

As Lord Avebury says: "Even if there is a
skeleton in the cupboard, it is not the only thing
there." *

I try not to see the skeleton, but to look for
beautiful things in the cupboard. I always find
them, and am grateful for this, even if I have been
reproached for a want of real knowledge of human
nature. I am not anxious to have it, according to
the usual conception of the term, for too often " know-
ledge of human nature " means that one should meet

420

CONCLUSION

every new acquaintance with mistrust, and presuppose
everything bad of him, until one has absolute assur-
ance of the contrary. I thank the gods that this
sort of knowledge of human nature is entirely want-
ing in me. I would rather err a thousand times than
do one single person an injustice. When, as in one
or two cases, I have discovered that I did make a
mistake, even then I bear no malice, but, in banishing
the uncongenial one from my life, I strive to think
that / was not suitable to him, and not that he was
not suitable to me.

Herein lies the great art of life — to enjoy to the
full the scent of the roses and all other gifts of nature,
whilst carefully avoiding the thorns ; not, however,
being indignant because there are thorns ; not to
demand that people should be as we want them to
be, but to love them as they are, and, realising how
monotonous life would be if we were all alike, rather
rejoice that their various aspects brighten and
illuminate our lives by a thousand new colours and
different forms. That constitutes the charm of
existence ; and in understanding the beauty and
delight of human intercourse, I greet every new
friend who enters my life to-day with the same en-
thusiasm as in my first youth, and with gratitude and
strength I try to rivet our friendship. Many dear
kind friends call this "warmth of heart" and "uni-
versal love," but / know it to be a form of egotism,
and the true art of life, for it upholds me joyfully to
the very end — that end which, for me, means the
rising of the sun.

Hail to thee, O sun !

THE END

Printed by R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh.

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