Читать книгу The Life and Surprizing Adventures of Archibald Kerr, British Diplomat - Виктор Королев - Страница 6

Six months of his probationary service had expired. The first foreign trip is designated – Berlin. The Foreign Office believed that the British mission in Germany was the most important and responsible place. The rivalry of both countries is growing, no one wants to give in, and the military power of the Germans and their aggressiveness is stronger and stronger.

Archibald Kerr was not impressed. In his diary he wrote: “The thought of working in this place fills me with the blackest despair”.

It was in this mood that he arrived in the German capital. With such thoughts and served, more and more closed and suffering from routine, more and more dreaming of independent work and more and increasingly he wore a kilt.

The Embassy officials in Berlin squinted at him, wondering if he should be wearing a tuxedo instead of a plaid kilt. However, Archibald himself was thinking of buying a dress gentleman's set from the first salary. Almost half of the two hundred pounds was spent on new clothes and shoes. Such a dandy of London, in full dress, he walked all the way from the Brandenburg gate to the British Embassy and deliberately climbed slowly up the wide stairs. The podium led to victory. Fifteen minutes later he was summoned to the Ambassador's presence.

Kerr had been in this huge office before. The former Ambassador had been on friendly terms with Wilhelm II, but the stronger the bond between them grew, the more often the Emperor of Germany developed a strange and savage hatred of all things English. Who was the cause is unknown, but one day the thread broke, and the UK had to urgently look for a replacement. The new Ambassador, as he could, began to settle the situation.

When Kerr entered his office, the Ambassador something was playing the violin. He put down his instrument and smiled good-naturedly:

‘Good morning, Archie. Thanks for stopping by. I have a surprise for you! Kaiser's sister Sophie invites us to a party. Previously, such invitations were ignored. But now I suggest you come with me to the crown Princess's Palace and meet the local elite. It's been ignored before, and I suggest you ride with me to the crown Princess Palace and meet the local elite. You don't mind?’

Another would argue.

Kerr, of course, had heard about the Princess Sophie. The granddaughter of Queen Victoria of England, the wife of the Greek crown Prince, the mother of five children, she could Eclipse the beauty of any at the court of the German Emperor. Slim, lithe, she loved social gatherings and fun picnics in nature. Sophie had just arrived from Athens, and was making up in her own home for what seemed impermissible at the court of her crowned father-in-law.

Archibald was introduced to the Princess. He bowed his head courteously. Sophie held out her hand for a kiss, and when Kerr looked up, her laughing face was close to his.

‘I am very glad to see you,’ she said in German. ‘At last there are real English gentlemen in this palace!’

The Ambassador offered some witty toast, everyone smiled, drank champagne. One of the Grand Dukes offered a toast to the health of His Majesty King Edward VII – again drank. Within half an hour, the guests had broken up into Islands, where glasses rang, individual toasts and bursts of laughter sounded.

Kerr couldn't take his eyes off Sophie. She was the only one at the party in a tight dress. The narrowed skirt without a bustle, unlike the other ladies, the stand-up collar, the flowing kimono sleeves; the wide hips, and the serpentine waist – she looked like a mermaid in her silvery attire. Archibald stood amazed and muttered to himself: ‘I don't know what it means, that I am so sad…’

A silver mermaid slid out of a nearby islet and swam toward the young diplomat.

‘I hope you are not bored here at my place. We gathered today specifically without music. We'll dance with you next time, won't we?’

‘I will,’ he barely managed to squeeze out one word.

Sophie laughed, tilting her head back a little. Her gray eyes turned blue-green.

‘You're very nice. But you needn't be shy. We have everything in a simple way. Would you like me to show you both palaces?’

And without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked away. Kerr quickly caught up with her. The Princess told him of the purpose of the rooms through which they passed.

‘At first there was one Palace, for the Crown Princes. My brother was born there. A little later, a Palace of princesses was built nearby. Now they are connected by a passage. But we're not going there. Let's sit on this couch and talk. Tell me about yourself!’

As in an exam, Kerr started with his parents and the place where he was born. The Princess was surprised by his account of Australia. She even moved closer to him.

‘What, what are they called?’ she laughed. ‘Emu? What a strange name! Do they really look like a little running haystack? Grunting like pigs? It can't be, Archie!’

She studied his face with interest. And she kept asking.

‘Did they call you Australopithecus at school? Is it just because you were born in Sydney? Are you really the son of a native? Anyone punished? Did you get your nose broken, too? Oh, God, Archie, I feel sorry for you. And you've never loved anyone before? Not once? How interesting I am with you…’

She was twelve years older than Kerr, but she enjoyed the conversation quite sincerely. And then Sophie began to pour out her heart to the young man: how unhappy she was in Greece and how she loved her mother and through her grandmother and all Britain.

An hour later they returned to their guests. The Ambassador of His Majesty King Edward VII had already left the party without his subordinate…

In August, the third Secretary of the British Embassy, Archibald Kerr, received a personal invitation to come to the summer residence of the Kaiser family as a personal guest of Princess Sophie. On the day off, he went there.

The Princess met him in an Amazon costume. She led him away from the castle and seated him on a bench in a small artificial grotto.

‘This is where we'll continue our conversation, do you mind, Archie? And then I'll introduce you to my brother, and we'll go to Breakfast.’

They laughed a lot again, and talked about everything, interrupting each other. Then he stood before the stern eyes of the Kaiser.

At noon the great doors were thrown open, and Wilhelm II. He was dressed in a field Marshal's uniform, which fitted him perfectly. Oddly enough, he carried a glittering iron helmet with a crest on it.

The Emperor first greeted his sister, and then he waved them into the dining room, where he seated his guest to his right. The table was laid simply, the only delicacy being the golden bell, which the Emperor used whenever it was time for a change of dishes. There was soup, roast, and fruit dessert. There was no champagne, no liqueurs, only red Rhine wine.

The Kaiser spoke only to the guest. He ate with surprising speed, despite his left arm, which had been paralyzed since childhood. The Emperor used a special fork, which had a serrated blade on one side, and he cut off pieces of roast meat with admirable dexterity.

Kerr found it impolite to eat when the Emperor was talking to you, so he listened, hanging on every word, and hardly touched his breakfast.

Taking two of the largest figs from the vase, the Kaiser swallowed them instantly, washed them down with wine, wiped his famously curled moustache with a napkin, and silently nodded goodbye. The guest and Princess Sophie were alone again.

They also walked through a wonderful park, sat by the fountain on a bench.

‘Archie, close your eyes,’ Sophie said suddenly.

He was suddenly afraid that the Princess was going to kiss him.

‘Don't peek! And don't blush so! Say, what smells?’

It smelled of fresh figs and Cologne water. He hadn't lied to the Princess.

‘It smells like figs and Cologne.’

Sophie laughed her silver bell.

‘That's right! Here is and let this smells will remain you on memory from me!’ And she stroked his face with her warm hand.

All the way back in the coat-of-arms carriage, Kerr could smell it.

…In September, Princess Sophie had to return to Athens: in neighboring Turkey, there was a coup, trouble could touch Greece, and her husband demanded her presence. Kerr also received an invitation to the farewell party. The Ambassador unconditionally released him and even gave him a short vacation, saying at the same time:

‘My dear Archie, I am truly pleased that you are making progress not only in business matters, but also in matters of the heart. I can't keep up with you.’

Kerr probably wouldn't have been surprised if Sophie had thrown her arms around him when they met – she was so glad to see him.

However, he, too, was very glad. Here's what he wrote in his diary a couple of days later:

“After dinner we danced the Creole tango. I blushed because I did not know a single movement of the new-fangled dance she had taught me. I danced most of the time with Sophie… And I blush again, saying that I took a strange pleasure in holding her in my arms. Moreover, it seemed to me that she was completely at my mercy and felt the same…”

Outside the window the night rain was rustling, it was time for him to leave. He was gone, gone unnoticed. But the night was not over. He could not sleep. About an hour later, Sophie knocked on the door of Kerr's room in the Palace.

‘Archie,’ she whispered. ‘I can't just let you go…’

She came close to him, took his hand, and led him as if he were a little boy. Through the dimly lighted corridor, through the suite of deserted salons where music had played, champagne and Rhenish wine flowed like a river, ladies in smart dresses and their partners – German officers in high boots and crowned offspring in tailcoats-glided across the parquet floor.

It was only when they reached her apartment that Sophie turned to face him.

‘Know I shouldn't do this, but… Hush, please don't interrupt. Don't say anything, or I'll change my mind!’

So they crossed all boundaries, but did not pass on “you”. They listened in silence to the rain pattering on the bedroom windows. Finally, Sophie spoke.

‘There's so much I want to tell you, Archie. I see in you a kindred spirit. We're so alike.’

Kerr understood her German fluently, but the last word, in which the Princess brought together two incomparable feelings – resemblance and loneliness, – made him smile. She smiled kindly, too.

‘Are you a spy, Archie?’

‘No. I dream of a career only in my profession.’

‘Thank God, there are plenty of spies here. Believe me, I can't even open up to my husband. Especially now, that he had a new mistress. It's hard to imagine now that twenty years ago I was in love with this man. Do you know what a great wedding we

had? Granddaughter of Her Majesty the Queen of Great Britain and crown Prince of the Greek Crown – Constantine and I were related not only to each other, but to almost all the Royal houses of Europe. It was believed that Constantinople and St. Sophia would again unite with Greece when Constantine and Sophia ascended the throne. Thousands of guests arrived. We were married twice – first in the Orthodox rite, then in the Lutheran. And my brother, when he found out about it, forbade me to go to Berlin. Have you noticed his oddities?’

And then the Princess just carried.

‘You know he was born crippled, with a dry arm and a crooked neck? That he had an oedipal complex? All his teenage sexual dreams he transferred to his mother and even tried to make her, the daughter of the British Queen, his mistress! He's a terrible man, Archie! The more his mother tried to convince him, that it was wrong, the more he hated everything English. It was his fault she had died so young. His malice has no bounds. Believe he will soon bring Germany to a terrible war with everyone, including England. My brother fancies himself a great warrior and general, he does not get off his horse, and several times a day dressed in different uniforms – he is supposed to command artillery, fleet, and cavalry. And have you seen his helmet?’

‘I saw it,’ Kerr said, trying to remember everything.

‘Not the other one. He has ordered a helmet of pure gold, and wears it when he receives kings and emperors of the highest order. He fancied himself master of the world. It's awful! And yet, Archie, he has nothing to say against it, no one has the right to argue with him. He is sure that the Kaiser of Germany is never mistaken, that his wife and all relatives are beyond suspicion, like angels in the flesh. He was sure of it until he got slapped in the face with this sex scandal…’

‘Not understand. What scandal?’

‘You don't know?! It was a universal fall from grace. All the Newspapers wrote! Look… It was like this. At the beginning of 1891, ladies and gentlemen-fifteen in number, all of blue blood – were sledding in the vicinity of Berlin. And then they came to the hunting castle, threw off their fur coats, drove away the servants, got drunk – and it began! It was a grand orgy. Intimate places they slightly covered with leaves of a Fig tree, and even without them did. Couples changed in a circle. There was all that Bohemia could do in her disorderly fancy. Do you know what Bohemia is, Archie?’

‘Translated from French it seems to be Gypsies,’ said Kerr.

‘That's right! Can you imagine a whole camp of princes and princesses making love? And same sex love too. And after all for same-sex sex have us incarcerate, as and in of England…’

She smelled strongly of cologne, wine and figs… “High, high relations,” Kerr thought. He almost asked: “Were you there too, Your Highness?” But he bit his tongue in time.

‘It would have been all right, Archie, but a few days after the party anonymous letters began to arrive with details of the orgy. Everyone got hurt. Then the letters began to receive uninvolved persons: politicians, journalists, aristocrats, relatives. Even the Empress Dowager, mother of both Wilhelm and my, received several such letters. Everyone was just in shock, each was afraid that his name would be mentioned in the next letter.’

‘What did the anonymous blackmailer demand?’

‘That's just it, he didn't ask for anything. He was just giving away intimate secrets. And it is not known whether it was “he” or “she”. Examination established that the handwriting, rather, female. Suspicion fell on my older sister Charlotte, but she herself received many of these offensive anonymous letters. Can you imagine how mad our brother was?’

‘I'm sure the Kaiser ordered an immediate investigation to find the culprit!’

‘What's the use? Letters have been coming for years. Imagine, for years! And in each letter were juicy details from the personal life of someone from the Imperial family. The secret police arrested anyone who might have had anything to do with it. Many people were arrested and released. Everyone quarreled with each other. Several duels were fatal. Ah, the authority of the monarchy is undermined! Ah, the Emperor and his court live by a double morality! Still the echoes of this scandal can be heard…’

‘So they found the scoundrel?’

‘Found. My sister Charlotte once lost her diary, and in it she wrote down everything-all the secrets and even her own fantasies. This diary fell into the hands of the blackmailer. Wilhelm banished him from the country.’

Sophie at parting embraced Kerr.

‘Archie, dear Archie, never keep diaries; they have a fatal tendency to be read by other people! Will you find your way back?’

The next morning they met before Breakfast in the rainsoaked garden. Sophie was not alone; her older sister, Charlotte, was sitting beside her. Sophie seemed to be telling her something funny, for her sister laughed incessantly, opening her mouth ugly.

A few hours later Sophie left for Athens. They parted good friends.

When Kerr returned home, he wanted to write down in his diary his thoughts on the events of the last hours. He felt guilty for some reason. The whole thing looked very strange. It was a horrible mixture of delight and disappointment, joy and emptiness at the same time. He had no other words. He remembered the hot whisper of the Princess: “Never keep a diary!” And he laid down his pen.

A few days later he wrote in a treasured notebook: “Berlin demolishes all the masculinity of a person and makes him a kind of asexual medusa. I’m imbued with an unspeakable hatred of Berlin.”

To Princess Sophie this hatred did not apply. He still thought of her with warmth and tenderness. They would meet again in 1914. The last summer before the war Kerr will spend on a cruise in the Mediterranean, and in Athens he will pay a friendly visit to the house of the King of Greece, or rather his wife.

Queen Sophie was heartily glad to see him and held out her hand. They sat for a while on a soft Sofa in the shade of an old Fig tree. Then, as she had six years before, she led him by the hand into the Palace. In the ornate hall she showed a novelty – a portable gramophone. Smiling affectionately, she put on a record.

‘That's Tine Rossi – a charming voice, is not it? Remember our tango in Berlin?’

‘Of course I do,’ Kerr said. ‘I have a professional memory.’