BEHIND THE SCENES

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXII, Issue 22250, 26 October 1935, Page 2 (Supplement)

BEHIND THE SCENES

DIPLOMAT'S MEMOIRS EX-KAISER'S EARLY DAYS EMPRESS KEPT PRISONER New light on the strange story of the diary of the Emperor Frederick of Germany, who died in 1888, is thrown by Lord Howard of Penrith in his book, The Theatre of Life, published in London recently by Messrs. Hodder and Stoughton. On his arrival in Berlin as third secretary of the Embassy, Esme Howard, as ho then was, discovered that the Em-press-Frederick was virtually a prisoner in her own palaco. Even letters and telegrams from her mother, Queen Victoria, were not delivered. " The long-drawn-out agony of the Emperor Frederick's illness had no sooner come to an end than his son, the Emperor William 11., then a young man of 29, ordered a cordon c? soldiers to be placed round the palace at Potsdam where he died and where the Empress was still living. . . . The whole reason for this extraordinary behaviour on the part of the young Emperor was, it appeared later, that Bismarck and William 11. both feared that the Emperor had left behind a diary which might contain unpalatable information about people and things, and especially, it was supposed, about the conduct or the war of 1870." A minute search of the palace was made, but without success, the Byzantinism of the proceedings coming as a great shock to the youthful mind of Esme Howard. Meanwhile, the diary had been entrusted to Mr. Inman Barnard, an American newspaper correspondent, and he walked out of the palace with it concealed under his waistcoat and delivered it to Queen Victoria. Lord Howard's book covers the years 1863 to 1905 and in the eyes of to-day

it reads like the record of the golden age in the diplomatic service—delightful society, abundant sport, and not too onerous duties.

In April, 1888, Queen Victoria spent some weeks in Horence:

"She came with her Indian munshi, and John Brown in his highland kilt. These attendants greatly interested the Florentines, and the papers of Florence suggested that her Majesty must have made a mistake in the dates and thought she was coming for the carnival." On a visit to South Africa Howard made the acquaintance of Cecil Rhodes. "As we walked up to the Parliament House I saw a large figure of a man, with a rather rolling gait, in not overclean grey flannels, with a somewhat battered straw hat on his head, his hands thrust deeply into his trouser pockets and his jacket pulled up to the waist, showing an enormous breadth of beam . . 1 gazed on the curious back, deeply impressed with an astonishment that was only to grow as I got to know him better."

Filled with Rhodes' ideas on the political and economic development of the Empire, Esme Howard went home

in the confident belief that ho would be able to inspire others with the same enthusiasm. He resigned from the Foreign Office to stand for Parliament. The attempt failed, and he once more entered the Diplomatic Service. One of tho many pen-pictures of this period is of the Earl of Ilosebery. who seemed to him "like a highly polished eighteenth-century snuff-box of onyx and lapis lazuli, sot with cunningly wrought gold and diamonds, filled with perfumed snuff, which would be opened on special occasions and produce highly scented snuff in tho shape of epigrams ... Of him perhaps more than of anyone it may be said: 'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.' " Seeing that Lord Howard has never, on principle, kept a diary, the wealth of detail in this hook is a remarkable achievement of memory. He calls it "Tho Theatre of Life" "because," ho says, "I have, more than many men, had a front seat both in the pit and in the stalls of Life's Theatre, varied with an occasional visit behind tho scenes."