Proud Tower - Barbara W. Tuchman [212]
The play was produced by Max Reinhardt in Berlin in 1903, the year after Salome. Hofmannsthal was alert to its possibilities. To serve as a libretto for an opera by Strauss was then considered “to reach the summit of contemporary fame,” and he repeatedly urged Elektra on Strauss as his next project. Though attracted, Strauss hesitated because of its similarity to Salome and cast about for some other theme of human nature driven to dreadful extremes. “Something like a really wild Cesare Borgia or Savonarola would be just what I am yearning for,” he wrote to Hofmannsthal in March, 1906. Following a visit to The Hague, where he was haunted by Rembrandt’s “Saul and David,” he suggested a “raving Saul” as a possible subject. Ten days later he suddenly proposed, “How about a subject from the French Revolution for a change?” Hofmannsthal, with his drama already written, kept returning to Elektra and, although the marks of Wilde on it were obvious, he insisted that it was really very different. Eager for collaboration, he was persuasive and Strauss succumbed. Meanwhile, with one foot in the dominant camp, he composed five highly colored military marches for the Kaiser which won him the Order of the Crown, Third Class.
While Strauss was at work on Elektra a major scandal revealing rottenness in high places became public. The Eulenburg affair concerned homosexuals in the immediate circle of the Kaiser, but it was less their habits than the layers disclosed of malice, intrigue and private vendetta which shed a lurid glow on Germany. Three years earlier Fritz Krupp, head of the firm, on being accused by the Socialist paper Vorwärts of homosexual acts with waiters and valets, committed suicide. This time the central figure was Prince Philipp Eulenburg, former Ambassador to Vienna from 1894 to 1902, a suave and cultivated aristocrat who was the Kaiser’s oldest and closest friend, sang songs to him beautifully at the piano, and gave him intelligent advice. As the only courtier to exercise on the whole a beneficent influence on the sovereign, he was naturally the object of the jealousy of Bülow and Holstein, who suspected the Kaiser of intention to make him Chancellor. Initiator of the scandal was Maximilian Harden, the feared and fearless editor of the weekly Die Zukunft, of which it was said that everything rotten and everything good in Germany appeared in its pages. Cause and motive had to do with Germany’s diplomatic defeat at the Algeciras Conference which set off waves of recrimination among ministers, culminating in the removal of the spidery Holstein. He blamed Eulenburg, although in fact his removal had been secretly engineered by Bülow. Rabid for revenge, Holstein, who for years had kept secret police files on the private habits of his associates, now joined forces with Harden to ruin Eulenburg, whose influence on the Kaiser, Harden believed, was pacific and therefore malign. With Holstein’s files at his disposal, Harden opened a campaign of innuendo naming three elderly Counts, all A.D.C.’s of the Kaiser, as homosexuals and gradually closing in on the friendship of Eulenburg with Count Kuno Moltke, nicknamed Tutu, “the most delicate of generals,” commander of a cavalry brigade and City Commandant of Berlin. The Kaiser ditched his friends instantly and forced Moltke to sue Harden for libel, which was just what Harden wanted in order to ruin Eulenburg. Through four trials lasting over a period of two years, from October, 1907, to July, 1909, evidence of perversion, blackmail and personal venom was spread before a bewildered public. Witnesses including thieves, pimps and morons told of “disgusting orgies” in the Garde du Corps regiment and testified to abnormal acts of Eulenburg and Moltke twenty years in the past. A