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2. Augusta
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11 D Chapter Two d AuguStA Back in Potsdam, nineteen-year-old Augusta Ottlie Bertha Helene von Brauchitsch was ready to enter society, an occasion that would include her presentation to the Majesties in Potsdam’s Imperial Palace during the Annual Imperial Ball, the most exquisite social event of the 1910-1911 season. The honor of being introduced to the imperial couple was by tradition restricted to daughters of high birth, worthy of meeting and mating with the young officers of the elite regiments. Wilhelm II of Hohenzollern—seated next to Empress Auguste Viktoria on his imperial throne in the back of the ballroom, dressed in one of his favorite operetta uniforms, and ecstatic in the knowledge of being the cherished idol of his subjects—kept twirling the carefully groomed moustache with his right,ring-adorned hand,letting his watery blue eyes wander over the illustrious crowd. One by one, the young debutantes would approach the throne between their parents,following an announcement by the master of ceremonies,the Imperial Lord Chamberlain, who personally escorted them to the steps of the throne. The Kaiser’s left hand,like the right one richly decorated with sparkling diamond rings,was kept carefully hidden behind his back,as he had been taught from early childhood.The withered little hand on a short and useless arm was a defect with which he, Prussia’s crown prince, Queen Victoria’s favorite grandson, had come into the world. The parents’ delight over their daughter’s impending presentation to the Majesties was dampened only by the costs for Augusta’s ball gown. Yards and yards of elaborate velvet , choice silk, and delicate lace were needed; expert hands transformed the outrageously expensive material into a masterpiece. This task could not possibly have been entrusted to Philomena, the clubfooted little seamstress who came into the house twice a year to sew, patch, and mend what needed sewing, patching, and mending. The gown, stitched by the town’s most fashionable dressmaker, tore what turned out to be a bottomless hole in the family budget.But the finished product was breathtaking; it resembled a fluffy white cloud, fit for a royal princess. On the evening of the ball,her eyes modestly cast down,a well-rehearsed expression of humility on her face, the debutante seemed to float through the halls of the imperial palace between her parents toward the majesties. Her chestnut curls had been arranged balloonstyle on top of her head in the fashion of the time. With apparent ease, she performed the mandatory deep curtsy, practiced a hundred times, and her youthful freshness caused a ParT one 12 smile to appear on Auguste Viktoria’s kind face. Her imperial spouse, a benign twinkle in his light-blue Hohenzollern eyes, ogled the beauty in front of him with unconcealed approval ; Augusta’s main concern at that moment was to manage the gown’s long train, borrowed from a relative for the occasion. There was no question after the ball as to who had stolen the show. Even Augusta’s mother,who had anxiously watched the proceedings through her pince-nez with other matrons from the so-called “dragon’s rock,” with a sigh of relief agreed that her daughter was the undisputed queen of the evening.Her dance card filled within seconds,Augusta had the time of her life, waltzing in the arms of her admirers. Those were glorious days,the best that Prussia had ever experienced in its one hundred and fifty year history.The mere idea of war seemed as far removed as the moon.It was common knowledge that the German nation under its incomparable emperor was the envy of many. What could be more important for Potsdam society than the ball season, compared to which all other events became oblivious? Potsdam, after all, was the undisputed center of the nation, perhaps the world. Throughout the first winter following the debutante ball, a carefree Augusta managed to twist a vast number of eligible bachelors mercilessly around her little finger. She loved to dance. But, whether a waltz or a polka, twirling around was only permissible in one direction , clockwise, and never, never counterclockwise. The Lord Chamberlain himself, with the eyes of an eagle,watched for possible offenders of this unwritten court rule.It was up to him to decide who would be allowed to dance close to the throne. For that supreme honor, the girl had to put on a winning yet humble smile with zest and...