From The Eagle Rising: The Story of Prussia's Arrival On the World Stage, pub. 1989 by Professor Reinicke Herz
Coincidentally, the plot, such as it was, fell apart on April Fool’s Day – April 1st, 1901.
In the two days since the Dowager Empress Viktoria’s tantamount endorsement of Elizabeth Morgan as her grandson’s girlfriend and potential fiancée, German public opinion had not so much changed as become emboldened. The burning of the offices of the primary conservative publisher tipped the balance toward liberal newspapers, whose writers and hawkers took solace in the German cavalry patrols which KronPrinz Waldemar had ordered for security purposes. These newspapers began running pro-Waldemar articles to expose the tactics of the opposition.
So it was that, on that first day of April, a cascade of events occurred which caused the conspiracy against Waldemar to collapse. First, though accounts differ widely, it appears that General Erich Ludendorff either obeyed orders to advance on the German capital of Berlin with the intent of supporting Prinz Albrecht, or perhaps even forced the plotters to agree to make him a despot in place or alongside of Prinz Albrecht after deposing KronPrinz Waldemar. It is very clear, from corroborating accounts, that Ludendorff both escalated the plot into a coup attempt on that day, and fully committed himself to its success.
However, the handwriting was on the wall, and very soon after having made arrangements – whatever they were – with Ludendorff, Chancellor Bülow and Foreign Minister Holstein decided that success was unlikely in any case. Probably fearing for their lives, they summoned Inspector General Adar von Grolitz, and the three of them drove in an automobile heavily laden with secret government papers to the outskirts of Kottbus, where the German Army Chief of Staff, General Reuben von Riedesel maintained his headquarters.
While this was going on, the German War Minister, Julius von Moltke (nephew to the famous Field Marshall Helmuth von Moltke) came to the same conclusion as his superiors in the cabinet. Not wishing to dishonor his family name by fleeing, he instead called General Riedesel to establish him as the acting War Minister, and then Moltke surrendered himself to the military authorities in Danzig.
Meanwhile, Prinz Albrecht himself, who had ceased to get any calls from those men who were supposedly trying to make him Kaiser, fell into a deep depression, and retired to his rural estate near Stettin. He was found there a day later by KronPrinz Waldemar’s newly appointed Inspector General, Joachim Longanecker, and was brought to Berlin willingly. KronPrinz Waldemar graciously allowed his great-great-uncle to accept parole to his estates and those of his nearby friends, and promised that no more would be spoken of what had happened since his Father’s assassination. Albrecht survived two more years before dying of natural causes. Kaiser Waldemar attended his funeral, which was well attended.
The rest of the story contains far more intrigue and mystery. Having intercepted the phone conversation between Chancellor Bülow and General Ludendorff, KronPrinz Waldemar dispatched a team led by Inspector General Longanecker to make contact with General von Riedesel in Kottbus. There follows a confusing, rather amusing tale. They found Riedesel already speaking with von Grolitz, who was trying to mislead him. Longanecker’s men stormed in, only to be surprised themselves by Riedesel’s men, who he had tipped off because of his own suspicions. Eventually, Grolitz was captured, and Riedesel’s loyalty was assured. General Riedesel then telephoned Ludendorff, and ordered him to cease and desist, which Ludendorff did (presumably after a great deal more complicated negotiation than the official record shows).
Chancellor Bülow and Foreign Minister Holstein had taken up an offer from their old friend, General Graf Ferdinand von Zeppelin, to take a state tour of his airship facilities, and to take a flight. Again, it is entirely unclear what went on when they met, and history remains uncertain whether Zeppelin was a willing conspirator or merely a dupe of his old friends who had supported his experimental work. In any case, Bülow, Holstein and a pilot took off in one of the Zeppelin prototypes with enough fuel to reach quite any of a half-dozen foreign countries.
The conspirators may have set course for Belgium, with which (for complicated reasons, including close ties with the Netherlands and the fact that for much of its history Germany’s foreign minister was a Dutchman) Germany had never established diplomatic relations. Alternatively, they may have intended to pass over Belgium en route to London. Alas, the perspectives of Bülow and Holstein may well be forever lost to history, for the wreckage of the Z2 was found floating in the North Sea, the airship apparently having been torn apart in high winds which may also have taken it off course. The two German ministers were presumed dead.
But that is not the end of the story for Bülow and Holstein. Some evidence exists to suggest that they may actually have made it to British soil and crash-landed after nightfall, where they may have been taken into custody by British intelligence. If so, they would presumably have been de-briefed, and the wreckage scattered upon the seas to mislead the Germans. Historians believe there are still relevant documents in the British intelligence archives which have yet to be declassified.
Rumors, over the years, have suggested various outcomes for the men. Perhaps they were murdered and disposed of once their usefulness was done. Other rumors suggest that the two men were entered into a sort of “witness protection program” and survived for many years in South America or some other exotic place. Until the last of the relevant documents are released, we cannot know their fate for certain.
General Ludendorff remains surely the luckiest of the conspirators. Modern historical research leaves little doubt that Ludendorff entered deeply into the conspiracy to usurp KronPrinz Waldemar. And, had he not heeded Riedesel’s orders to halt, he might have prompted a bloodbath, even perhaps succeeding at making the plot come off. But when he was called off by Riedesel, Ludendorff professed innocence of the plot. He indicated that he had captured and arrested a traitor – former War Minister Georg von Kalkhorst – who tried to suborn him, but who failed. Ludendorff claimed that he had ordered his troops to Berlin while under the impression that the KronPrinz would need urgent assistance to maintain his crown and/or his life. Once Riedesel convinced him that the plot was finished, Ludendorff stood down. While it seems clear that Kalkhorst might have provided additional insight into the goings on behind the scenes, Ludendorff reported to Riedesel on the 2nd that Kalkhorst had been “shot while escaping,” and would be unable to respond to further inquiry.
Ludendorff, if a conspirator he was, was a clever man and covered his tracks well. The secret government inquest ordered by Kaiser Waldemar could find precious little evidence against Ludendorff. Contemporary accounts from Waldemar’s ministers indicate that he met with Ludendorff and in no uncertain terms emphasized that they knew what he had done and would hold Ludendorff accountable for any further intrigues. Ludendorff agreed, presumably under duress, to retire with the full rank of Major General. He more or less disappeared from the scene for 15 years but, interestingly, this was not the last to be heard of General Ludendorff. He had major roles yet to play in the historical record.
Ultimately, the only conspirator to eventually face justice in court was former Inspector General Adar von Grolitz. War Minister von Moltke was quietly retired, and sought supposedly self-imposed exile in the United States. Grolitz, though, had committed a wide variety of serious crimes in pursuit of victory against Waldemar. He was tried in a closed-door courtroom, and found guilty of dozens of felony counts, including high treason. He was sentenced to death by hanging, which sentence was carried out in July of 1901.
KronPrinz Waldemar attended his coronation on 7 April, 1901. It was attended by United States President Theodore Roosevelt, and his great-uncle, King Edward VII. He became thereafter known as Kaiser Waldemar I, and began his rule, which had been so inauspiciously delayed.
His age demanded a regency government, and 83 year old Prince Pietr van Rensselaer reluctantly was named Prince Regent for the 7 months until Waldemar’s 18th birthday. He took solace in the fact that his young charge was intelligent, experienced and worthy of the title he held. Rensselaer would not be called upon for very much governance and, in fact, spent most of his time as regent on vacation in the Italian provinces.
The new Kaiser’s cabinet included many names made noteworthy from his crisis of succession. He was initially served by Gerhard Niemann, at the Chancellory, Anders Asche at the Foreign Ministry, Reuben von Riedesel as War Minister, Richard Oëster as Finance Minister, Pavel Skiedweza at the Interior Ministry, and Zschau Paachow as Colonial Secretary. Some said that, by including members of different parties in his cabinet, and by putting minority officials in charge of ministries dealing with their own people, Waldemar was giving up degrees of control and weakening his own power. Nevertheless, Waldemar seemed to manage relatively well with this new formula, and he became enormously popular across the empire for his inclusive policies.
As a sad epilogue, the Dowager Empress Viktoria, who had been so instrumental in supporting her grandson, passed away from complications related to cancer on 23 April of that year. Kaiser Waldemar was at her side when she died, as was Miss Elizabeth Morgan, who by that time lived at a cottage in Potsdam and saw the Kaiser regularly.