I wept over this country, so dear to my heart, in 1914. I believe that her errors towards me have added to her misfortunes. I know that the judgment of Brussels in denying me my share of my father's property aroused bitter indignation in Berlin. My son-in-law, the Duke of Schleswig-Holstein, brother-in-law of the Emperor William II, relied on succeeding to the inheritance of his wife's grandfather. I can only say that the anger of the German Sovereign against the resistance of Belgium was increased by the remembrance of the deception of one of his relations, on whom he was rather severe, and this may have decided him to crush the little nation which dared oppose the violation of its neutrality. But this did not help to recall the irritable William II back to reason and humanity, because this miserable man, whom I have known since my childhood, was absolutely convinced of his rôle as the appointed scourge of God and the invincible redresser of Justice on the field of battle. * * * * * Let us for a moment forget these miseries and sufferings and talk of the time when I was happy in my happy country--the days when I went for excursions with the Queen and "discovered" my parents' kingdom. What joy when I could drive like my mother! I was then barely fourteen and I was her pupil. We frequently went for excursions through our dear Belgium from early morning till late in the evening. Two or three of the Royal carriages followed. The first was driven by the Queen, the second by myself, and the third by an officer, one of the ladies-in-waiting, or, later, by my sister Clémentine. Doctor Wiemmer, a compatriot and a devoted friend of the Queen who accompanied her to the Belgian Court, often went with us, also good General Donny and General Van den Smissin, and certain maids-of-honour and other trusted members of our entourage. We halted as fancy dictated. The forest of Soignies, the environs of Spa, and the Ardennes have many a time witnessed the sight of the Queen sitting on the grass in some delightful glade, munching one of the famous _pistolets_ for which Brussels is famous, and which came out of the Royal bakeries (what delicious cakes were made there! I can taste them even yet). How beautiful Belgium was then, and what pure air refreshed us. How eagerly I awaited the future. On these long excursions the Queen carried a map and made out the itinerary herself with the skill of a staff officer; she also taught me and my sisters how to take our bearings. At this time the automobile had not yet ravaged the world. I have come across this stupefying remark of a Frenchman, "Speed is the aristocracy of movement." One might as well say, "Thoughtlessness is the aristocracy of thought." The automobile is doubtless of occasional individual benefit, but I look upon it as a general scourge. Side by side with the satisfaction which it procures, it upsets existence by precipitating it.