THE KAISER AS FUGITIVE.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 261, 4 November 1929, Page 6

THE KAISER AS FUGITIVE.

The circumstances in which the Kaiser found refuge in Holland were again referred to in our cable news recently. It was alleged by a German that King George had appealed to the Queen of Holland to receive his cousin, but this was promptly denied in England. The story told by Lady Susan Townley, the only Briton who witnessed the Kaiser's arrival in Holland, shows that this was quite unexpected. Lady Susan is the daughter of the Earl of Albemarle and married Sir Walter Townley, then second secretary in the Diplomatic Service. Shortly before the Boer War ha was appointed under Sir Frank Lascelles to the Embassy in Berlin. There Lady Susan seems to have "been something of a favourite with the Kaiser, though she criticises him keenly, for lie presented her with a portrait of himself dressed as a British admiral and he signed the photograph in English, "William." Years followed at Rome, Peking, Constantinople, in the Holy Land, in America, in the Argentine, in Rumania, in Persia; then came for both husband and wife an interval of war work in London until 1917, when Sir Walter was appointed British Minister on the Legation at The Hague. Here they passed an active time with refugees ,and prisoners of war during the remaining months of the war. Then came "thu historic incident" which, as ehe narrates it, rivals in interest the famous description of Napoleon's surrender to the captain of the Bellerophon. The sudden news of an armistice was as much a surprise at The Hague as it was in this far-off British Dominion. "It seemed incredible that we were to have peace after those four years of war, silence instead of that eternal rumble of artillery, so plainly heard at The Hague. Yet we had no right to be taken by surprise." They knew that revolution and Bolshevism were threatening Germany. On Tuesday, November 10, the exciting news came to the British Legation that the Kaiser had passed into Holland for refuge at six o'clock in the morning. Only the bare fact was known. It was guessed that he would go to his friend, Count William Bentinck, with whom he had stayed in times of peace. Lady Susan motored to the Count's country seat, some seventy miles from The Hague, but nothing was known of him there, and at cock crow next morning she started back again, but took a rest at the picturesque village of Doom (where the Kaiser has since been interned). There she saw in the village post office a notice that the Kaiser would arrive at the small station of Maarn not a mile off, and there she hastened, expecting to find a crowd, but no one was there except a few officials and some inquisitive country bumpkins. Amongst the officials was a friend of hers, who showed her where she would get the best view. A few reporters soon arrived, but there was no representative of the big London dailies. The account afterwards published in London and then sent out to the ends of the British Dominions was the narrative she gave on returning to The Hague to the reporters of the "Times" and the "Daily Mail."

The station approaches were crowded with vehicles and when at last the Kaiser's car arrived it was for some time wedged in, and she had a very close view of him. He looked very white, white-faced and white-haired, while he was forced to wait seated beside Count Godard Bentinck, exposed to the stare of all present, "but his gaze was firm and his nonchalance perfect." Some proKaiserite tried to get up a welcome and posted small boys in a tree to cheer him, but the faint attempt waa drowned by an outburst of booing from a gathering throng of Belgian factory hands. The little Dutch village, apparently one with Maarn, stands clean and white-washed on the rising bank of the Meuse. The- visitor can be ferried across the river or be conveyed by the Belgian train. It is within easy distance from Vise, where the Germans first entered Belgium and so began the war. Six days after witnessing the arrival, Lady Susan returned and interviewed the little Dutch soldier who held up the Kaiser at Eysden (which is exactly on the frontier), while the Queen of Holland and her Prime Minister, in alarm and perplexity at The Hague, were debating what to do with their unwelcome guest. The gate of the station marks the frontier and the little soldier was there on duty when in pouring rain on a dim November morning a car drove up from "the Belgian side. An officer alighted and demanded a passage. The soldier said no one could pass. The stranger insisted ' and eaid, "The Kaiser is here and must go on to Holland." Another German then got out of the car, came up to the soldier and said, "I am the German Emperor." The soldier, though astounded, said sturdily, "I see you are, but my orders are to let no one pass into Holland." Asked whose was the order, he answered Ilia captain's, who was then asleep in the white-washed cottage he pointed to. They told him to call the captain, btit he said, "I must first lock the gates." The Kaiser was growing furious, but when the captain came he, too, insisted that he could not let the Kaiser pass without fresh orders from The Hague and he went "away to telephone for them. The Queen had her Prime Minister roused from his sleep and consulted him. Meanwhile for six hours the fugitive waited. He was allowed to go to the small station of Eysden and there ho paced the platform for half the day, while the Belgian workmen crowded round the railway barrier peering at him, hooting and booing. Some one offered him a cigarette, which he accepted, but the Belgians outside broke into an uproar of catcalls and boos. At last the message came from The Hague that he could enter Holland, but must be interned, and with some reluctance Count Godard Bentinck gave up to him his castle of Amerongen, and at last he was allowed to get into a railway carriage. For Lady Susan the affair had an unpleasant sequel, for a ridiculous report got about that she had organised a committee of reception to welcome the Kaiser, and, although no such committee existed, promotion was refused to her husband on the ground of his wife's alleged "indiscretion." This affair gave the cause for her entitling her memoirs somewhat bitterly, "The Indiscretions of Lady Susan."

—EDITH SEARLE GROSSMANN.