The rattling noise from outside of the Reichstag broke out again once more in the government quarter.
The Crown Prince closed his eyes upon hearing the sound and tried to focus on his breathing. Every time he heard it seemed to be a deliberate reminder of his failure. Even as he sat in the office which had once belonged to the Chancellor of Germany, it provided him with no satisfaction.
The dreams over a decade of work had been built upon were disintegrating before him.
The Reichswehr forces which had not left Berlin before his supposedly triumphal coronation began had fought despite being outnumbered, defending their Chancellor even as the man fled. His Blackshirts and their Stahlhelm allies now controlled most of the city but there would not be much time to finish the job and build any sort of royal court after all. A Reichswehr force numbering in the thousands was reportedly approaching the outskirts of the city and his own forces had already depleted their ammunition in trying to wrestle full control of the city from the Reichswehr holdouts within the city.
The Crown Prince had to hand it to Hitler for spending so much time crafting and moulding his Red Front in the lessons the man had learned in the Ruhr. The Blackshirts were well drilled but they were mainly meant for parades, they could rely on their history as street brawlers from Ludendorff’s time but like the old Field Marshal the Crown Prince’s own military experience was at the strategic level. Had he had more experience on the ground with his men back in the last war, or spent more time on them rather than on Von Schleicher’s political games. Well, hypotheticals weren’t going to get him anywhere in his present situation.
It was clear that his assumption of power had failed to gain the popular following outside of the city he believed he could muster. The Reichswehr force approaching to retake the city was perhaps the best example of that but the news of his distant cousin disowning him and all of Germany in doing so hurt particularly hard. Perhaps he had trusted Von Schleicher in how monarchist the Reichswehr was, it certainly hadn’t been the case with him and perhaps he had mistrusted Hugenberg’s ability to spread his message as well. Why had the man’s party done so badly in the elections earlier that year if he was such an effective propagandist? It would be easy to indulge in such vindictiveness but he realised it was only a partial answer to his problems.
His own ambition and his royal background which bred it, sustained it, had been the source of his strength and yet he had tarnished it all the same. The promises he had made to himself and his family over the wrongs done to his father had merely been in pursuit of what he ultimately just wanted for himself. He had been brought up to believe the crown was his by right and thus he hadn’t challenged men to thought likewise or at least purported to. And now here he was, a wildcard without a deck.
His would-be defence minister, Generalmajor Otto Waegner, approached. No doubt with more bad news. The short bursts of gunfire that cracked from outside would no doubt soon be exacerbated a thousandfold by the enemy coming to depose him.
Perhaps he could go forward with the coronation ceremony, a quick one, just to say he had had it done before it all ended.
He put such thoughts out of his mind as Waegner bowed and announced his news.
“The Reichswehr commander has requested an audience with yourself, Excellency.”
The Crown Prince tutted.
“No doubt they want to convince us to surrender without a fight. Well I can assure you that won’t be happening Waegner. We won’t be sent to Von Schleicher in chains to explain ourselves eh? We’ll show those traitors what should have been done in November 1918. We’ll fight to the last.”
“That might be difficult. Excellency. Spirits are low amongst our troops due to the tenacity of the Reichswehr defence and lack of help from outside. And the appearance of this relief force. Desertions are being reported.”
More betrayals. The Crown Prince couldn’t dwell on the thought. It was only another reason to fall into despair.
“Who is this Reicshwehr commander, anyone I would know?”
“I think so. Excellency. General Hans Von Seeckt.”
“Von Seeckt! Why didn’t you say so before? Why, the man’s a monarchist. He even insisted on me wearing my uniform from the last war in his company.”
The Crown Prince paused, hadn’t Von Seeckt gotten into some trouble for that?
“Bring him here, he deserves a hearing at the very least.”
The Crown Prince’s mind started to race but he tried to keep the most enthusiastic thoughts out of his head. Of course Von Seeckt wasn’t coming here with these troops to aid him but could he be convinced otherwise? His appointment certainly seemed off, the man hadn't been directly involved in the Reichswehr for years and he hadn’t heard of him being re-appointed himself. Perhaps Von Schleicher didn’t have him fully under his wing but appointed him anyway for propaganda purposes or, prayer of prayers, perhaps Von Shchleicher had not appointed him at all.
The Crown Prince was wary of this new optimism, he had just seen a decade of dreams snatched from him after all. But it was, at least, something to grasp at.
It took a while for the car carrying Von Seeckt to appear inside the government quarter. He hoped the scars of the battle from his forces taking it didn’t dwell on the General’s mind, nor the thought of the General’s contemporaries who died defending the Bendlerblock. Waiting for the man had made the Crown Prince’s anticipation grow
Von Seeckt appeared within the office without being announced. The Chancellor’s old aide, who had spent the last few weeks seemingly in perpetual terror didn’t even try to announce him before he strutted in, calm, blank faced, monocled, his posture like that of a sphinx.
Prussian.
Here, surely, was a man he could do business with.
“General, it is good to see you again after so many years. I trust you did not have trouble in getting here?” The question was absurd, but where was he without his formalities. What was he, even.
“Not at all your excellency, thank you for being so accommodating.”
“Of course, of course. I couldn't turn down the offer of a meeting with a great patriot such as yourself. And of course when we fought together I hope you realised I would never do so.”
“The thought would never cross my mind, Excellency.”
“Now, I’m sure you’ve been told many things to the contrary about my character by General Von Schleicher but I’m sure you might also be interested to hear a few tales about that particular individual's character. Or lack thereof.”
“If it pleases your Excellency I have already heard enough in regards to the so-called character of said individual. That, I must admit, is the matter at hand.”
The Crown Prince’s eyes lightened up.
“Von Schleicher was a very capable political operator but he thought only about himself. It became apparent that any patriotism he espoused was narcissism which, as I’m sure you’ll agree, also went for his monarchism.”
The Crown Prince nodded gently, this was music to his ears but it was clear there was something salient coming out of it
“My monarchism, Excellency, is genuine and it’s for that reason I believe it is the best course of action for you to now leave Germany.”
The Crown Prince smirked at that.
“I must say I have had just about enough of advisors General and you should clearly understand why that is. My position is desperate, yes, but it is one I have had to take due to being manipulated. Will I snuff out any final chances of Germany returning to me by choosing to die in Berlin? Maybe, but my house and name will gain a new resonance to it. I will have successors.”
“If you cause more needless slaughter, further destruction to the capital, purely for the sake of our own vanity, your cause will truly be doomed forever. Your successors will be dispossessed and robbed of their chance to be politically or even socially notable by an outraged nation. You will be dead but your glory will only persist in washed up exiles in foreign lands, exiled and irrelevant.”
“That was the fate of the Romanovs, as it was of the Bourbons and the Stuarts. Royals who flee the battlefield are consigned to irrelevance, royals who fight are never truly extinguished in the memories of their people.”
“Those exiles never had supporters left behind.” Von Seeckt replied bluntly. “At least not those who could truly influence the future of our nation like I have the capacity to now.”
“And pray tell, General, what would you do?”
“Well to begin with, if I had been Schleicher I wouldn’t have targeted the Social Democrats at the beginning of all of this. I realise there is a tendency, perhaps even an attraction, in casting the United Front as a monolithic Bolshevik rabble but that is simply not the case. I can work with the Social Democrats. I have worked well with them in the past and there are elements of that party both outside and even within the United Front I suspect can be trusted.”
The Crown Prince raised his eyebrow at this.
“There was evidence of collusion. It was found in the Bolshevik headquarters...”
“Perhaps that was misinterpreted.” Von Seeckt interjected. “Levi and other former Bolsheviks, they were clearly open to working with Hitler, but the idea of the whole Social Democratic Party plotting to overthrow the republic they created. It doesn’t make sense.”
The Crown Prince shrugged at that, it was too late to speculate either way.
“In either case I would work with those moderate elements and get them in turn to bring the true Bolsheviks into a peace on the basis of new elections.. Elections the latter will lose or at the very least, not win. Then if they react to that result violently it would enable the Reichswehr with the support of the moderates to crush the Bolsheviks. Such a struggle might take longer than it did in 1919 but the outcome would be just as definitive.
Either that or the Bolsheviks will settle with a return to opposition, that Hitler of theirs has shown a cool head in the past, but either way it would give me time to rebuild the Reichswehr and promote your cause anew.”
“With myself having no control over my own fate,” The Crown Prince sniffed.
“No direct control from your Excellency fends off criticism from our adversaries and in the meantime I, alongside like minded patriots, can work on rebuilding your image. You can be the Prince across the water Or, more literally the Prince across the Alps.”
The Crown Prince sat back, trying to process the scheme.
“There is a plane ready to take you to Italy. You could be there in hours. This could be over in hours” Von Seeckt stressed..
“Nonetheless, I would require some assurance that this isn’t merely a ploy.”
“I’m afraid there isn’t any Excellency, other than my own word which I hope would go for something with yourself. We cannot always control history but I have at least developed a knack for recovering from its blows.”
“And wouldn’t history consider the notion that this war would be ended with a conversation all too flippant an outcome?”
Von Seeckt finally smiled at that.
“I am afraid I don’t have any control over that, your Excellency.”
At this the Crown Prince smiled too.
Perhaps there were still true believers left after all.
---
The painting is
Bonnie Prince Charlie Entering the Ballroom at Holyroodhouse by John Pettie