When the old Emperor died, his swaggering grandson shortly became William II. An impassioned public speaker and brilliant phrasemaker, William had half the world believing he was about to usher in the Golden Age.

As monarchs go, the Kaiser was actually an intelligent man, though dangerously erratic, a weakness his friends failed at first to appreciate. Handsome and charming, he always made a striking appearance. Few rulers have ever been more "well meaning." He wanted to make his people happy and he wanted to be unistrong. He wanted to give peace to the world. And versally admired. He could not realize that not everyone took his words as from the lips of God. He thought of them so himself.

He had a remarkable memory. He might discuss the dynasties of ancient Assyria at lunch, or the merits of famous works of art or theories of statecraft, literature or dramatics. He might ask some pastor or architect, about to deliver a speech, what they intended to say, and give the speech himself in their place and do it well. In manner he alternated between military stiffness and boyish charm. He went to fantastic lengths to display his personal favor, but kept his entourage in constant terror of his sudden practical jokes (tripping Generals overboard while cruising the Baltic, publicly goosing the Czar of Bulgaria while the latter was looking out a window at a parade, giving the self-consciously short King of Italy a six-foot-seven escort during a visit, etc.), and his stern requirement that his entourage do pushups before breakfast (always the danger of sudden indignities from His Imperial Highness and one must laugh, of course).

He prided himself as a "huntsman" (shot 65 deer in one day they were driven singly into his range) and had pompous monuments erected on sites such as were "Our moste noble Margrave and Lord Emperour Wilhelm II Alle Highest felled here on Septembre 19, 1902, his 200th noble stagge upon Grimnitz Heath."

He long planned to lead his army into battle and personally directed prettily geometric maneuvers, beautifully colorful affairs featuring spectacular cavalry charges -till one unusually bold general told him this was a waste and of no strategic use. Few other men ever dared be so frank with him.

Despised by both parents, dropped at birth by a midwife (deforming his left arm), forced as a crippled child to mount a horse (he fell off repeatedly but ultimately mastered the skill), he was driven to prove his Prussian manliness. Feeling he'd been snubbed in England (at grandmother Victoria's funeral) he lusted to win British admiration by demonstrating his superiority, outstripping their navy. He patronized the Russian Tsar, cousin Nicky, insultingly. But he was able to charm the Prussophobe Crown Prince of Austria on their first meeting, carefully arranged by Eulenberg.

At court he was surrounded mostly with a rabble of martinets and sycophants (an all-male company, as Harden later charged) who encouraged his outdated notions about benevolent but absolutist monarchy. He spent two months annually on Baltic cruises and several more on "hunts" and devoted most evenings to lavish dinners and stag entertainments. Eulenberg's bitter rival, General Hulsen-Haseler, head of the Military Cabinet, dropped dead while dancing for the Emperor and company, while dressed as a ballerina. (Pity. It had long been a favorite act.) Hulsen, though not much of a general, had been sharp on conjuring tricks. General Kuno von Moltke (later charged with Eulenberg of homosexuality), played the piano while "dearest Phili" s ang his Rose Songs, his Nordic ballads or improvised humorously. The Counts Dohna (who rose along with Eulenberg, but deserted him during the trials, for fear of personal involvement), Herbert Bismarck (who fell from grace somewhat later than his father) and Eulenberg's cousins August and Botho were often part of the theatricals, which Wilhelm himself sometimes rewrote.

The Kaiser soon dismissed the "Iron Chancellor" during disagreements over the Russian alliance and Bismarck's anti-socialist laws, with a curt

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