Chapter 18: Wilhelm, Wilhelm, and Wilhelm
"I look forward to that day!" Lassalle replied with a highly professional smile.
He had gained much today. At the very least, he now realized that the current situation was vastly different from that of 1848. Even someone like Bismarck, a Junker through and through, had thoughts and ideas far more progressive than those of the past. Lassalle believed that Bismarck could not be the only Junker with such a mindset—indeed, times were progressing.
On the other hand, Lassalle was keenly aware of Bismarck's need for him. Whether it was for achieving personal ambitions or loftier political goals, Bismarck required Lassalle's support. Of course, Lassalle was no fool. He understood that Bismarck's reliance on him stemmed from the power of the German working class he represented, not from Lassalle himself. If there ever came a day when his influence among the working class waned, Bismarck would not even spare him a glance.
As for being "friends," Lassalle wasn't naïve enough to think Bismarck truly regarded him as one.
Nevertheless, Lassalle accepted Bismarck's gift and, per his arrangements, boarded a secret train bound for Bern that very night to enjoy a "several-month-long Swiss vacation." As Lassalle sped southeastward, the Crown Prince's palace received an unusual visitor: the King of Prussia, Frederick William IV, long tormented by strokes and mental illness, arrived in person on this clear but cold early spring night.
***
Smith, nestled in Victoria's arms, gazed curiously at this unfamiliar relative.
His memories of the man nicknamed "Smiling Willi" contained little about Frederick William IV, which was only natural. People rarely remember anything from before the age of two or three, and Frederick William IV had passed away in 1861, when Wilhelm II was barely two years old—too young to recall much. The lack of memories wasn't surprising.
In a way, this absence of preconceptions allowed Smith to form an independent impression of his great-uncle.
Smith widened his eyes, carefully observing this elder.
Before him stood a man clearly in the twilight of his years. Thanks to materials left by "Smiling Willi," Smith knew that Frederick William IV had once been a dashing and spirited young man. While not a military genius like Frederick the Great, he had fought against Napoleon and, though initially a liberal as crown prince, later ruled as a traditional monarch, dreaming of transforming Prussia into a "model moral state."
Smith imagined that on this point, his great-uncle might have found some common ground with his maternal grandfather, Prince Albert.
But those days were long gone. Now, Frederick William IV was merely a frail, ailing old man. Stricken by strokes, his every movement appeared laborious and awkward. Age and mental illness had dimmed his eyes, leaving them clouded and lifeless. Though lucid at the moment, his gaze lacked vitality. Without his uniform and the introductions, one might never guess this man was once King of Prussia.
And yet, precisely because such a man was still King of Prussia, a regent was required. That regent, his younger brother and Smith's grandfather, stood at his side.
"Wilhelm..."
Frederick William's voice was as frail as his appearance, his German so tinged with weariness that even Smith, fluent in the language and immersed in it daily, needed a moment to grasp what he was saying.
For a brief moment, Smith felt a surreal detachment. Though history books often referred to "Smiling Willi" as Wilhelm II, "Wilhelm" was merely the English version of his name. In German, it was actually "Wilhelm" (closer to "Wil-helm" in sound), and rendered phonetically in Chinese, his name would be written differently altogether.
The Hohenzollern family seemed particularly fond of this name. Frederick William IV's title implied the existence of Frederick William I, II, and III before him—a four-generation tradition. Smith couldn't help but marvel at how unimaginative the family was when naming their offspring. Whether rearranging "Frederick" and "William" or sticking to "William" alone, the family never strayed far from this formula.
Even now, in this room stood three "Wilhelms"—Frederick William IV, Regent William, and Smith himself, the impostor Wilhelm. Adding his father into the mix wouldn't dilute the "Wilhelm density" one bit, as his father's full name was Frederick William Nicholas Charles von Hohenzollern. And "Frederick"? Another perennial favorite of the family, included in Smith's own name as well.
Smith's musings were abruptly interrupted when Frederick William IV stretched out his twisted right hand, attempting to caress Smith's cheek. His fingers, stiffened by stroke, couldn't fully extend, and he ended up merely brushing Smith's face with his fingertips.
For some reason, Smith felt a profound sense of history in that moment. He knew that this hand had once fired a flintlock rifle at Napoleon's forces, drafted orders to suppress the revolutions of 1848, and signed the decree appointing his brother as regent—all actions that had deeply influenced Prussia, Germany, Europe, and even the world.
"Louis, how is the child?"
Frederick William withdrew his hand and turned to his brother, the regent. From Smith's vantage point, he couldn't see Frederick William's eyes directly, but he sensed a sharpness in his uncle's gaze. In that instant, Frederick William IV was every inch the King of Prussia.
"He is a delightful child, brother," Regent William replied with measured politeness. "He—"
"I don't have much time, Louis!" Frederick William IV interrupted, his voice unexpectedly forceful. "Spare me the diplomatic niceties. While I'm still lucid, tell me— is the child healthy? Did the difficult birth leave any defects?"
At these words, Smith felt Victoria's grip on him tighten, her hands clutching his swaddling clothes with visible tension as if trying to suppress her emotions.
After all, no mother would tolerate her child being discussed in such a manner.
The regent instinctively glanced at Victoria, his eyes full of complexity.
It was a delicate situation. While his brother's failing health made lucid moments rare, Frederick William IV was still the King of Prussia, wielding significant influence. Yet, the regent was also acutely aware of the strained relationship with his daughter-in-law. Now, in her presence, they were discussing her son. This was far from ideal, especially given that she was not from some obscure German principality but the Princess Royal of Britain, the cherished daughter of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. It was paramount that their relationship not deteriorate further.
Such a situation was truly putting Prince Regent William on the spot!
"Of course, my little Willy is a healthy child!" After a quick mental calculation, Prince Regent William replied in a composed tone.
"Ha!" Frederick William IV waved his hand somewhat awkwardly. Due to his ailments, it was more a twitch of his wrist than a wave, yet it carried the commanding aura of a sickly lion.
"I may not be lucid often, but I am no fool! I heard the child seems to have some digestive issues—something like 'intestinal hernia,' or whatever they call it?"
Now Smith understood Frederick William IV on a deeper level. Though he was more often out of his senses than in them, the old man was frighteningly well-informed and undoubtedly a tough adversary.
Prince Regent William, who knew his brother inside out, realized that since Frederick William IV could name "intestinal hernia," he probably knew all the related details. Concealing the truth further would only make matters worse. So, he came clean:
"That must have been a misdiagnosis by those incompetent British doctors. After that medical mishap, little Willy hasn't shown any symptoms of an intestinal hernia."
"And his arm?" Frederick William IV's tone became almost impatient.
"Did that Saxon mongrel injure his arm?"
"There were some bruises," Prince Regent William admitted, not daring to hide anything. "But the doctors say these bruises shouldn't leave any long-term damage—"
"Shouldn't?!" Frederick William IV raised his voice.
"I need certainty, Louis! Prussia cannot have a one-armed king!"
The gravity of this statement hit everyone like a hammer. Smith could distinctly feel Victoria tighten her grip on his arm, and Prince Regent William's breathing grew heavier.
The hurtful implication of those words was evident. Yet, coming from Frederick William IV—a man with limited clear-headed moments and not much time left—such bluntness was somewhat understandable. What more could one expect from someone in his condition?
"We must arrange a thorough medical examination without delay!" Frederick William IV continued, oblivious to the weight of his earlier statement.
"Pay close attention to the child's health, and security must be tightened as well!"
At this point, Frederick William IV cast a glance at Victoria. Smith caught the look clearly—it wasn't the gaze one gives a person but rather the appraisal of a tool. Predictably, the next thing he said to Prince Regent William was:
"Louis, you need more grandchildren!"
Prince Regent William opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing. To discuss such matters in front of his daughter-in-law was offensive enough, not to mention that children were present.
"Brother, this isn't—" Out of both necessity and propriety, Prince Regent William attempted to refute the notion, regardless of his true thoughts. However, his brother had no intention of giving him a chance. The king exclaimed in the loudest voice he could muster:
"More grandchildren!"
Prince Regent William sighed, casting a complex glance at his brother before looking at Victoria. Unsurprisingly, he found nothing but anger in her eyes—how could she not be furious?
Evidently, Frederick William IV understood the effect his words had caused. He fell silent, and the room descended into an oppressive quiet.
"Louis! Louis!" Frederick William IV spoke again, this time with urgency, as though he were facing imminent danger.
"I'm here, brother," Prince Regent William replied.
"Secure the reserves! I want to give the French a surprise!"
Prince Regent William froze for a moment before realizing what was happening. His brother, the King of Prussia, had once again slipped into a delusional state. In his mind, Napoleon's armies must have been trampling over Prussian soil.
Knowing it was time to escort his brother away, Prince Regent William responded softly:
"The reserves are ready. It's our turn to strike now!"
With that, he gently helped Frederick William IV back into his wheelchair and began pushing him toward the door.
Their conversation continued as they moved:
"Louis, where is the army? We must not let Berlin fall to the traitors!"
"Berlin is still under our control…"
"Louis, I want Parliament driven out of Berlin. They're all hypocrites and cowards—they don't deserve to be there…"
"My troops have already dispersed them!"
"Good! Very good! —Louis? Louis? Where is Mother?"
"Mother…" Prince Regent William's steps halted just as he reached the door. His voice faltered momentarily before he managed to say:
"Mother is with Father. Let's go find them together!"
The door slammed shut at that very moment, conveniently muffling the sound of Prince Regent William's tears hitting the floor.
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