Meet the royal rebel who chose love and a career over a title, jewels, and palaces.
File Under: Fascinating Royal and Noble Women
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This is the story of Princess Alexandra Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein. As the wife of Kaiser Wilhelm II’s fourth son, she had wealth, privilege, and status – but what she wanted was freedom, happiness, and love. After the German revolution, she was finally free to pursue her dream of becoming a full-time artist. That dream took her from Europe to America, where she toured the country to create and promote her art. She struggled to make ends meet, but never gave up on herself or her dream. If your grandparents have an old, dusty painting of a seascape or pastel flowers in the garage, take a second look – it just might have been painted by a princess.
Meet Aly
Princess Alexandra Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg was born on April 21, 1887. Although she was born into a junior line of the House of Oldenburg, her family had important royal connections. Her father, Duke Friedrich Ferdinand, was a nephew of King Christian IX of Denmark. Her mother, Karoline Mathilde, was the sister-in-law of the German Kaiser, Wilhelm II. This relationship with imperial Germany would change Aly’s life forever.
Alexandra Victoria – nicknamed “Aly” – was one of six children in the family. Her mother insisted all five of her daughters have a hobby. Aly said, “My mother…did not like to see us idle, so we must be busy at something all day. My sister…occupied herself with bookbinding as a hobby, and I studied painting.”1 It was the beginning of a lifelong passion.
Her family spent most of their time at Schloss Grünholz, the baroque manor house in Schleswig-Holstein where she was born. But they also made frequent visits to the imperial court in Berlin, since her mother’s sister was married to Kaiser Wilhelm.
As sisters, Karoline Mathilde and Augusta Viktoria shared a close bond. And since Aly’s mother had five daughters and her aunt had six sons, it was inevitable that they would eventually arrange a marriage between them. In about 1906, Aly’s aunt chose 19-year-old Aly as the bride for her fourth son, August Wilhelm, nicknamed “Auwi.” It was a decision Aly would spend the next ten years of her life regretting.
As a member of the German imperial family, Auwi grew up in the public eye, with his image reproduced in magazines and newspapers from the day he was born. Away from the cameras and courtiers, however, he didn’t fit the mold of the typical military-obsessed Prussian prince. He loved fashion and jewelry. His English governess, Ethel Howard, said he had “a more romantic and artistic side to his nature…he will ever remain in my mind as the teller of fairy tales and legends, and the reciter of poems…”2 Auwi’s only sister, Princess Viktoria Luise, also noticed he was different. She said he “loved art, music and science, and consorted with numerous professors.”3
Unfortunately for Auwi, this wasn’t what their father wanted from his sons. Kaiser Wilhelm sent him to a military-style boarding school to toughen him up.4 There, Auwi learned to project a confident, masculine demeanor to please his father and courtiers, but it was all an act. He was never sure of his father’s love, and turned to his mother for support and understanding. It was his mother who got him out of the military when, after a one-year stint as a commissioned captain, he admitted he just wasn’t cut out for it.5 With her help and approval, he went back to school to study political science.
In December of 1906, Aly and Auwi’s parents announced their engagement. The wedding, they said, would take place once Auwi had completed his degree. During the engagement, Aly gradually became a part of her in-laws’ very public life. When she appeared in public, reporters scrutinized her to describe her face, her figure, her clothes, and her behavior. Aly hated this, but she couldn’t back out of her engagement even if she wanted to. As she later said, she had been given no choice in the matter.
Two years later, Auwi emerged from the university with a doctorate that, according to his biographer, was “largely due to the diligent work of others.”6 With no further reason to delay the marriage, Aly traveled to Berlin, where the wedding was held on October 22, 1908 – her aunt’s 50th birthday.7
After the wedding, the couple moved into the Villa Liegnitz, a palace in the Berlin suburb of Potsdam.8 Aly and Auwi soon realized they had little in common except a shared love of art and music. So they made their palace a center for the arts, inviting over as many artists and musicians as possible. But even here, Germany’s strict imperial etiquette dictated their choices. Aly would later complain that, as a proper princess, she had to “confine my eyes to pretty landscapes and thoroughly conservative still life.”9 Nothing modern or avant-garde was considered acceptable for the kaiser’s daughter-in-law.
That strict imperial etiquette would shape her every thought, word, and action for the next ten years. Just like Auwi had been trained to present a hyper-masculine façade, she was now expected to present the proper feminine version of that image. Later, she told a reporter, “When I went to Berlin, I was a simple country girl and I was scared to death of the kaiser. I had to sit next to him at meals and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. He told us all, over and over, that we are not here to live for ourselves or happiness, but for others and for duty.”10 For Aly, that meant stifling her natural yearning for freedom, fun, and – as she would soon learn – love.
One of those loves was painting, which she pursued wherever it led her. If she met an artist who invited her to a party, she not only accepted, she often went alone…two things court etiquette said she was never supposed to do. This led to gossip about her being a flirt – and possibly more. Auwi wrote a poem that included two lines complaining about what happened when Aly let her passions run away with her: “In the intoxication of your senses | You broke your faith too often.”11
But from Aly’s point of view, Auwi was the one who had broken faith.
By this point, she had learned that Auwi only had one true love, and it wasn’t her. His name was Hans-Georg von Mackensen, nicknamed “Macky.” He had been Auwi’s companion since 1905 and adjutant since 1908. Auwi had always felt most comfortable in the company of men, a preference that would last his entire life. Years later, one of his father’s staff members would say, “We know, of course, that he is also inclined the other way around.”12 His father, the kaiser, did not approve. He referred to Auwi as emotional, incompetent, vain, and “disgusting.”13 But Macky was the soul mate Auwi craved, and he insisted on having Macky near him as often as possible.
According to Auwi’s biographer, three years after the wedding, there was some sort of marital crisis. It’s unclear if Aly complained about Macky to her in-laws. It’s possible they knew everything without her needing to say a word. However it started, the crisis ended with Macky’s dismissal.14 At that time, Aly and Auwi were under an increasing amount of pressure to have a baby, as if that would prove their marriage was a success. Four years after the wedding, in the spring of 1912, Aly got pregnant. On December 26, she gave birth to a son named Alexander Ferdinand.
But even as a new mother, Aly remained the most rebellious of the kaiser’s daughters-in-law. Once, she got in trouble for inviting an actress whose hat she admired over for dinner. An actress, she was told, was not suitable company for an imperial princess. According to the English companion of another Prussian princess, the kaiser put Aly under house arrest for a week as punishment.15 Another time, Aly supposedly had to hand over her diary to the kaiser when he found out she’d recorded a less-than-flattering opinion of him shared by a Russian visitor. Aly got a stern lecture, the kaiser destroyed her diary, and she was exiled from his presence for three months.16 Those anecdotes may or may not be true, but there’s no doubt that Aly found this imperial etiquette and discipline soul-crushing. Later, she would say, “The life of the princess is that of a prisoner. Even her smiles are censored.”17
Her life, it seemed, had become a trap with no hope of escape.
Things Fall Apart
On June 28, 1914, the Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife were assassinated in Sarajevo. Their murder triggered a diplomatic death spiral that appeared to catch Aly and Auwi by surprise.
As lovers of art and music, they were in Bayreuth for the annual Wagner festival. There, Auwi heard news of the final Austrian ultimatum to Serbia, the one that would trigger war with Serbia and its ally, Russia. The look on his face convinced an American visitor named Clare Benedict that something terrible had happened. She watched Auwi sneak into a corner, where he had a hushed conversation with a German diplomat. According to Clare, that conversation was transformative. She wrote, “…the day before, he had been a bright, good-natured boy, today he was an anxious stern-faced man.” The Prussian royals all left Bayreuth that very evening.18
Back in Berlin, Auwi told an American dentist that he believed the assassination would “almost inevitably lead to a general war.”19 He was right. Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia on July 28. Four days later, Germany declared war on Russia to support its Austrian ally. Two days later, Germany also declared war on France. The kaiser sent Auwi to join the army as an aide-de-camp on the Western Front. With no real military experience, Auwi acted as a scout, looking for locations that would work as a headquarters.20
With the country at war, Aly had to put her personal unhappiness aside. Like all Prussian princesses, she took up a variety of charity work. She served as president of a women’s union, with the goal of enlisting women in “all patriotic services except fighting.”21 She also worked in and raised money for hospitals. Princess Daisy of Pless – British by birth but married to a German nobleman – soon found that no one in Pless wanted the nursing services of a woman born and raised in an enemy country. Daisy said it was Aly who found her a place to serve in the Tempelhof hospital near Berlin.22
Also in Berlin, the American ambassador’s secretary had a memorable interaction with Aly relative to her hospital fundraising. The ambassador later wrote, “…I sent one of my secretaries to the palace of Princess August Wilhelm…with a contribution of money for her hospital…She took the money from the secretary and spoke bitterly against America on account of the shipment of arms.”23 At the time, although America hadn’t entered the war yet, it was sending arms and ammunition to France and Britain, Germany’s enemies. Aly knew it, and resented it on behalf of her country’s soldiers.
But even as Aly suppressed her unhappiness to support her country, one of her emotional triggers reappeared unexpectedly. Four months into the war, Auwi was involved in a car crash in France. The steering gear broke and the car slammed into a tree, killing the chauffeur. The accident broke Auwi’s leg in multiple places and fractured his jaw.24 He went home to Potsdam to recover and immediately asked his father to assign Macky as his adjutant. Macky arrived as requested and was soon recognized everywhere as “the Prince’s inseparable companion.”25 As the war dragged on, Auwi drifted through several reassignments with no particular success. But as long as he was allowed to keep Macky with him, he was happy. Of Macky, he wrote, “The bond of friendship that binds me to him [has] become even closer.”26
Their bond made Aly the odd one out and led to another marital crisis. But just like the incident in 1911, it’s unclear whether Aly complained or her in-laws saw what was happening and took action. In late 1917, Kaiser Wilhelm suddenly sent Auwi a surprising telegram: he was being reassigned to Posen, in present-day Poland, to work in the civil service. Aly and their son were ordered to join him and live together “until further notice.”27 His father forced him to leave Macky behind, but Auwi found a way to get him back by having Macky train alongside him for the required civil service exams.28
By this point, it was clear to even casual onlookers that something was deeply wrong with Auwi’s marriage. Auwi’s former teacher, General Gontard, put the blame on Aly. He said she had “a very sensual nature, had always flirted very freely…All sorts of things had been brewing for a long time, which is why the prince was sent back from the field to Posen…to have his wife more under his supervision and to mend the rift.”29 General Gontard wasn’t the only one who saw Aly as the problem. Her mother-in-law sent her to Posen with a second lady-in-waiting whose job it was to keep an eye on her.30 I think Auwi’s biographer sums it up best, however, when he writes, “The once beautifully naïve country girl…had also developed a new self-confidence and a will of her own, which she displayed quite unashamedly.”31
As the new year of 1918 dawned, Ali and Auwi didn’t seem to understand how tenuous his family’s grip on the throne actually was. That September, with the war all but lost, Auwi and Macky went to Berlin to take their advanced civil service exams.32 It was all for naught. The country was exhausted and the victorious Allies preferred to see Germany reborn as a republic rather than remain a monarchy. Bowing to the inevitable, Kaiser Wilhelm abdicated and left Germany for exile in Holland. He wrote to his wife, “My reign is ended, my dog’s life is over, and has been rewarded only with betrayal and ingratitude.”33
For a brief moment, Auwi was considered as a possible regent because he’d proven such a poor soldier and had none of the war guilt of his father or older brothers. Major General Albrecht von Thaer heard about this plan and said, “…a mediocre representative with an unpleasant, turkey-like wife. It’s enough to make one sick.”34 By “unpleasant,” I’m guessing he meant opinionated – something no imperial princess was encouraged to be.
Although Aly’s mother-in-law was allowed to join her husband in exile in the Netherlands, the rest of the family was left to fend for themselves. Auwi surrendered his property and titles without a fight. He told a friend he felt numb, knowing he had no home, no source of income, no life’s work, and no fatherland.35
To get away from Berlin, Aly and Auwi took their son – and Macky – to a friend’s villa in in central Germany. There, Aly sketched portraits of the town’s residents. According to Auwi, she created “[a] truly astonishing likeness and sympathetic portraits of the people…”36 Away from Berlin, with no title, no rank, and no imperial court to please, Aly realized she was no longer beholden to anyone except herself. The life she had longed for was almost within her grasp. There was just one more obstacle in her way.
The Getaway
In October of 1919, Auwi went to Holland to visit his parents. When he returned, Aly was gone. According to his biographer, she had left with another man, allegedly a non-commissioned Guards officer.37 Auwi had known, of course, that she wasn’t happy, but he’d never thought she would actually leave him. He thought she was too used to the life of a princess, with all its money, luxury, and admiration. But he had misjudged her completely. Aly didn’t care about money or luxury. The things she cared about and longed for with every fiber of her being were freedom, love, and passion.
Once again, Auwi complained to his former teacher, General Gontard. And, once again, Gontard comforted his student by blaming Aly for everything. This time, Gontard claimed Aly “suffers from outright nymphomania and cannot draw any boundaries in this regard.”38 The kaiser’s personal physician had a similar view of the situation. He later wrote, “…it is claimed that the Princess only received the first impetus to embark on the wrong path through her many visits to the hospital during the war, where, as a beautiful, striking person with rather liberal morals, she saw many eyes resting lasciviously on her.”39 If we can set aside the casual cruelty and misogyny of these remarks, they give us a pretty good idea of how Auwi and his contemporaries viewed Aly and her choices.
But let’s flip the script and look at things from Aly’s perspective. She had given 11 years of her life to a loveless marriage that had been chosen for her, with no emotional or physical passion. She had lived a life governed by suffocating rules that left her gasping for air, all for the benefit of others. Now, with no throne to protect, it must have seemed like the right moment to seek out happiness on her terms. How much more of her life did she owe other people? If not now, when?
Aly’s choice didn’t surprise Auwi’s sister, Viktoria Luise, who said she had been “prepared for this outcome for a long time.”40 Convention, she said, had been the only thing holding Aly and Auwi together. What is surprising is that Aly’s mother took her side. This was huge, since – according to Auwi’s biographer – Aly’s 60-year-old mother had “previously strongly condemned her daughter for her misdeeds.”41
Two months after Aly left, Auwi finally decided to tell his parents. He went to Holland that December to deliver the bad news in person. The first thing his mother did was write Aly out of her will.42 That was the worst she could do, however, without the power of an imperial decree.
Auwi and Aly’s divorce was finalized in 1920. At least one gossip columnist said they cited grounds of incompatibility, but the actual divorce paperwork has since vanished.43 Aly had to give up all rights to her son, a fact that has led to her being described as an unfeeling mother. She also gave up her rights to the imperial family’s income, residences, and jewels. Afterward, however, in a private settlement, the family agreed to pay her a regular stipend, most likely for her silence about what had gone wrong in the marriage. 44 Aly kept her word, never speaking ill of her former husband or in-laws publicly. She said, “I have no criticism to make of anyone; I speak only of my own heart, of my own picture of the life of a princess.”45
A few months after the divorce, European newspapers buzzed with the story that she’d eloped with the kaiser’s former chauffeur, Fritz Meyer. Some of them even claimed to have quotes from her, including this one: “I’d rather be the loved wife of a chauffeur than the unloved wife of a royal prince.”46
There were huge spreads in multiple newspapers, but not one of these articles even had a current photo of Aly, let alone one with her supposed new love. One full-page version – touted as being her own story, told for the first time – is full of made-up details. It claims Fritz Meyer challenged Auwi to a duel and was then thrown in prison for life, only to be freed after the revolution. I couldn’t find evidence supporting any of it.
These rumors lingered so long that American reporters later described her actual second husband as a chauffeur. But as we’ll see in a few minutes, Aly was about to become the one who did most of the driving.
Blank Canvas
After the divorce, Aly moved home to Schleswig-Holstein to pursue her passion: painting. She had taken lessons from Arthur Kampf, director of the Art Academy in Berlin, so she had training in elementary subjects like line, color, and composition. She had even sold some paintings to fund two orphanages in Berlin. But now, she wanted to do more than paint as a hobby. She wanted to turn it into a career.
A few years later, when a reporter asked her how she got started painting, she said, “The love of color and harmony were born in me. When I am walking or working, tramping along the beach in hearing of the waves, I am happy.”47 The sea, a part of life in Schleswig-Holstein, became one of her favorite places to paint and to think. She said, “I can sail a boat in any kind of weather, and I used to love particularly to go out on the Baltic in a storm.”48
In January of 1922, two years after her divorce, 34-year-old Aly married Corvette Captain Arnold Rümann, a former German naval officer and friend of her father’s. The ceremony took place in her father’s home. The couple then moved to Munich, but thanks to rampant inflation, life in post-war Germany was expensive. By marrying again, Aly had forfeited the right to continued payments from her in-laws.49 So she learned how to do household chores like cooking, cleaning, sewing, and baking. The work didn’t bother her – in fact, she actually liked it.
With a supportive husband by her side, Aly finally had time to focus on her art. Soon, she was exhibiting paintings in Munich. On a visit to Berlin, she drew portraits of Louis Adlon and his wife, owners of the famous Adlon Hotel. When her work was exhibited at the hotel, a journalist described it as follows: “Her portrait drawings…are faithful work, very careful…the watercolors…have a radiance within them. In any case, it is considerably more than amateurism.”50
But, as most artists and writers soon realize, a creative career isn’t exactly a road to riches. Aly and Arnold looked at their savings and realized it would be cheaper to travel than to stay in Germany. So they went to Egypt, where Aly painted portraits and landscapes she called her “Egyptian impressions.” She told a reporter, “I first saw the Sphinx in moonlight. It was stupendous…”51 She also saw the contents of King Tut’s tomb, newly excavated by Howard Carter in 1922.
Even as they absorbed the wonders of Egypt, Aly and Arnold knew they needed to make money. They decided America was the best place to do just that. Aly planned to support herself by painting under the name “Rümann,” and her husband decided to try a career in the lecture circuit, focusing on areas with large German-speaking populations, such as St. Louis, Cleveland, and Detroit.
In late 1926, Aly and Arnold sailed for America on the Westphalia. A cheeky newspaper blurb revealed that she made her own breakfast on board. The headline read simply, “Princess Cooks Breakfast.”52
When Aly arrived in New York City, its beauty took her breath away. She told a reporter, “Your harbor, it was so beautiful – all sunshine – when I arrived on Thanksgiving Day, I felt it was my lucky day; it was all so very, very beautiful.”53 Soon, Arnold found work in advertising and they rented a small, three-room apartment on West 54th Street. Aly did all the cooking and cleaning herself. “Sometimes,” she said, “we just go and take a sandwich at a soda fountain – very American, aren’t we?”54 She filled their apartment with pictures of her son, still at school in Potsdam. The novelty of her new life filled her with joy. She told a magazine writer, “I am in America sitting in a side-street apartment – and I love it.”55
Her first step toward making money as an artist was to create a group of paintings good enough for an exhibition. They had to be well above average if she wanted to earn future commissions from New York’s wealthy and influential art lovers. Finally, she had six watercolors and eight oil paintings that she felt were good enough to share. She arranged an exhibition through an organization called Art Patrons of America.
But something happened on the night before that show. Suddenly, the press broke the news that the painter was not just “Mrs. Rümann,” but Princess Alexandra Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein. Whether she leaked the news herself or someone found out, it was a brilliant PR move – although the publicity made her fear that critics would judge her work more harshly.
Once New York society learned there was a princess in their midst, they came calling in droves. The city’s rich and famous threw her parties and invited her on vacations with them. Just as she’d hoped, they also hired her to paint their portraits. Among others, she earned a commission to paint Princess Bragança, born Anita Rhinelander Morris. Anita had married Prince Miguel de Bragança, grandson of the former King Miguel I of Portugal.
As a working artist, Aly learned that “making it” in America was hard work – but that’s why she found it so rewarding. She said, “The competition spurs one on to do better and better work.”56 She set up her studio at 163 W. 57th Street, a space she shared with a sculptor. She told a reporter, “Since money is the yardstick by which success is measured, I derive much pleasure from earning my living…I shall never give up my career now.”57
She did not, however, like being in the public eye. Once, during an interview, someone passing by stopped to stare at her. Deeply uncomfortable, she asked the interviewer, “Why do they stare at me like that? They stare at me as though I might be a freak. I wish I could escape and go for a walk somewhere in the country – or drink a cup of tea.”58 But the closest to an escape she got was a trip to Atlantic City, where she said, “At home I lived near the sea, so I have been homesick for a glimpse of the water.”59
As energized as she felt in America, Aly’s ties to Germany remained strong. She made yearly trips back to visit friends, family, and her son, who remained in school in Potsdam. However, on her first trip back in 1927, her teenage son refused to see her and wrote her an angry letter. According to Auwi, “…he says that he has been carrying it around with him all these years and that he just had to let it out, that he could never forgive her for leaving him.”60 Aly had no choice but to obey her son’s wishes and back away.
There were other surprises in store for her, too. She found Germans dancing to American music and buying American records. American hustle had taken over Berlin, she said. No one took long lunches or afternoon naps anymore.61 Instead of being upset, Aly saw this as an opportunity. She said, “One day, perhaps, the American idea will have so permeated all the world that it will form that common foundation of international understanding we have heard so much about and have longed for so intently but have not realized – because there was no common human bond.”62 Maybe, she thought, America’s spirit of innovation and growth could literally bring the world together.
Aly was also aware of the threat new technology posed to people who made their living in the arts. When she heard recorded music in hotels and restaurants, she said, “What you call ‘canned music’ is threatening our future composers.”63 Who would hire live musicians or write new songs when all you had to do was buy a recording? As talented a pianist as she was a painter, Aly hoped the future would remain bright for all creative artists.
After this first trip home, Aly returned to America in November of 1927, more committed than ever to making a living as an artist.
Brush with Greatness
Thanks to the publicity surrounding her first exhibition in New York, invitations to show her work poured in from around the U.S. In 1928, Aly and her husband set out to accept as many of them as possible as they traveled across the country. The nomadic way of life suited Aly, who hated the feeling of being tied down by things like a lease or furniture. She dreamed of buying a bus and converting it into something like a modern tour bus with a bathroom and living quarters, so she could come or go as she pleased. Only then, she felt, could she be truly free.64
Without the money to buy her dream bus, Aly hitched a trailer to their car and filled the trailer with her paintings, art supplies, a kitchenette, and a bed. By day, they drove. By night, they transferred the paintings to the car to make room for them to sleep in the trailer. As she had with their apartment, Aly hung photos of her mother and son on its walls. During the trip, she painted whenever they stopped and Arnold helped sell the paintings along the way to earn the cash they needed to keep going. Whenever they arrived somewhere, the first thing she did was take out her brushes and paint. She said, “I’m lost without them. I paint wherever I am.”65
While on the road, Aly learned a key difference between America and Germany. In a handful of states in America, it’s illegal to pick wildflowers. So when she pulled over to pick some, she was surprised to be stopped by a policeman, who told her to throw away the flowers she’d already picked. She said, “But I could not throw away those poor flowers and I begged to keep them – and, finally, he allowed it.”66
In 1928, Aly and Arnold visited Delaware, Pennsylvania, and Canada. She told a reporter she wanted to start painting industrial scenes. She said, “I believe there is something so picturesque about the tall buildings and factories. It is the inspiration for these pictures that I hope to find in this country. You are an industrial people. I have been so impressed by your vast capacity for work.”67 However, it doesn’t look like that particular form of inspiration stuck. In all the exhibitions that followed, I found no mention of paintings of factories or skyscrapers.
That was probably because she’d found a different source of inspiration. In early 1929, Aly decided she wanted to get as far across the continent as she could. Her goal was to paint the American west – and a portrait of a Native American, if possible. She visited the Grand Canyon and made sketches to paint it. By the spring of that year, she and Arnold had made it to California. She especially loved Santa Barbara, where she and Arnold were the guests of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Montgomery, who owned a luxurious home facing Mission Santa Barbara.
Aly painted portraits and seascapes, as well as ten landscape scenes from Mission Santa Barbara, Hope Ranch, Mission Canyon, and other popular vistas. She got up early, making her way to the mountains or trees in time to paint the sunrise. She took picnic lunches so she could keep going all day long. She even climbed onto the roof of the Montgomery home one night and painted until the sun had set. The light was so much brighter than the light in New York or Europe that she had to swap the colors on her palette.68 She said, “California, all this great west is Heaven. I love it.”69
Somewhere along the way, she got her wish to paint a Native American. Because in January of 1930, back in New York, she held an exhibition at the Gainsborough Galleries, where she showcased a portrait of a Native American man known as Buffalo Child Long Lance.70
Unfortunately, Aly didn’t know Buffalo Child Long Lance’s tragic backstory. Born in 1890 as Sylvester Long to formerly enslaved parents in North Carolina, his ancestry was most likely a mix of White, Black, and several Native American tribes. He ran away at age 14 and joined a Wild West show, where he was cast as a Cherokee. He remained in character, presenting himself as a Blood or Blackfoot or Cherokee, until he landed a part in the film “The Silent Enemy.” The movie’s publicity was his downfall. The press discovered he wasn’t a full-blooded Native American and publicized it. He died, most likely by suicide, of a gunshot wound to the head in 1932. But that was over two years in the future. Aly drew him before January of 1930, when he was at the height of his fame.71
Throughout 1929, 1930, and 1931, Aly and Arnold continued to tour the U.S., staying with wealthy benefactors who invited Aly to paint them or put on an exhibition in their city. She would still take summer trips home to Germany to see family, but returned each year to continue working on her career.
In late 1930 and on into 1931, she held a series of exhibitions from Chicago to Florida. Although she hired a chauffeur, she ended up doing most of the driving herself. Her trailer had no brakes, which made driving an adventure. Aly said, “We have had several ‘blow outs’ since leaving New York last Fall, and once…an axle broke, but that is nothing.”72 Aly was driving when that axle broke. She later said the chauffeur blamed her for the incident, but insisted to the press that she was a very careful driver.73
That January, they headed south to Georgia, where Aly’s car was broken into. A thief made off with her clothes and many of her personal belongings.74 Unperturbed, Aly held an exhibition at Atlanta’s High Museum of Art and continued heading south for Winter Park, Florida. There, she exhibited her work at Rollins College. For the rest of the month of February, she was a temporary member of the art faculty of the Rollins Winter School.75
One name that crops up frequently in press coverage of Aly is that of her new friend, a wealthy Chicago socialite named Emily Hutchinson Crane Junkin. At age 35, Emily had married the 70-year-old Richard T. Crane, the Chicago millionaire who founded the Crane Elevator Company. Then, when he died in 1912 leaving her a wealthy widow, she married her former sweetheart, Francis Junkin, the general attorney for the Santa Fe railroad. Emily was a charismatic social butterfly, and she and Aly became friends. Emily invited Aly and Arnold to spend time at her homes in Chicago, Washington, DC, and Palm Beach.
While staying with Emily in Chicago, Aly painted a portrait of the Bishop of Chicago and held an exhibition of her work at the O’Brien Art Gallery. There, reporter Eleanor Jewett described her work as “beautiful, colorful…enthusiastic paintings….Alexandra Victoria paints with a free hand and a broad stroke. She is herself in every canvas. She has a generous outlook on life and it is reflected in her work. She loves beauty and color and movement. All these are in her work.”76
That spring, Emily invited Aly to her home in Washington DC, where she threw Aly a round of parties and arranged an informal exhibition of her paintings. While in the nation’s capital, Aly continued accepting commissions, including a portrait for Rev. James E. Freeman, Bishop of Washington.77 She liked meeting many new people, and the feeling that everyone – even those with money or important titles – still needed to prove themselves in America.
As was her habit, Aly took the summer off and went back to Munich to catch up with family and friends, but she and Arnold came back for more of Emily Junkin’s friendship and hospitality. At the end of 1931, Emily took Aly and Arnold on a cruise to Havana. Aly left Arnold there to relax while she and Emily sailed back to Florida, where she exhibited her paintings in Winterhaven and Miami.
In early 1932, she and Arnold were in Mexico, where her paintings were exhibited at the German Club. Afterward, they swung north to San Antonio, Texas and then back to Atlanta. There, Aly held a two-week exhibition at Atlanta’s High Museum of Art. She drew the largest Sunday crowd the museum had ever seen: over 400 people. A group of Atlanta citizens bought one of her paintings, “White Phlox,” for the museum’s permanent collection.78
In Atlanta, she and Arnold were the guests of the Hecht family. Robert Hecht was a native of Austria. Many years earlier, in 1910, he had first glimpsed Aly in Vienna, when she had accompanied Kaiser Wilhelm II on a state visit. Robert Hecht’s daughter, Mia-Lotte, was disappointed when Aly didn’t wear a tiara to breakfast. So Mrs. Hecht asked Aly how she’d slept. When Aly said she was restless, Mrs. Hecht reminder her daughter of the story of the Princess and the Pea – now it was obvious Aly was a real princess.79
But something happened to change everything in the winter of 1932. Aly’s beloved mother died at age 72 on February 20, 1932. The couple instantly made plans to leave New York and return home to Germany.
Home Alone
Although Aly had sold over 100 paintings in America, she and Arnold didn’t have much money by the time they returned to Germany in early 1932.80 Just one year later, in 1933, Aly and Arnold divorced. Maybe it was the stress of never having enough money, or maybe they wanted different lifestyles. I can’t tell you why they divorced, but from this point forward, Aly was on her own. She continued to support herself by painting, but would always be on the verge of bankruptcy.
In late 1933, an actress named Louise Carter sued Aly in New York. Back in June of 1927, Louise had paid Aly $1,600 to paint portraits of herself and her sister Florence. But Louise claimed, “My portrait was done in an unsatisfactory and unskillful manner.”81 The case went to trial, but Aly couldn’t afford to come to America to defend herself. She remained in Munich and hired a lawyer to represent her.
When the case came before Chief Justice Edward B. La Fetra in New York’s City Court, he inspected Aly’s portrait of Louise Carter. He declared “the resemblance was not an excellent one, although it was artistic.” In the end, the judge ruled against Aly and awarded Louise Carter $1,600 plus $600 interest.82 Aly had no way of paying that judgment. It’s unclear if she ever did, as the newspapers didn’t follow the story after the judgment against her.
Details about Aly’s life in the late 1930s and 1940s are sketchy. We know that she lived in Berlin during World War II. In 1942, her oil painting of white peonies was shown at the Great Berlin Art Exhibition. In the catalog of artists, she’s listed as “Prinzessin Alexandra zu Schleswig-Holstein.”83
During the war, she stored all her unsold paintings on her brother’s country estate in Schleswig-Holstein. But when the Red Army occupied that territory at the end of the war, Aly lost everything. Even her Berlin bank account, small as it was, was blocked by the Soviets. Aly later said, “My money is all in East Germany. I’ve had to start all over again.”84
By this point, money was so tight that Aly had no choice but to give up her apartment in Munich. She used what she had left to commission a trailer from a shipyard, replicating the one she had in America. It now became her only home, which she had transported to Wiesbaden by railroad.85 She lived in her custom-built trailer with her dog, Falk. Fifteen feet long, the trailer was only heated by a small coal stove, with a tiny gas burner for cooking.86 It did have a skylight so she could stop to paint anywhere she liked.
Aly began living a nomadic sort of life, taking her trailer from one free parking area to another, as she continued to paint and hold exhibitions. When she stopped at the Red Cross Hospital to be treated for joint inflammation, she asked everyone there, “Do you think it’s crazy that I live in a trailer?”87
Then, in 1950, five years after World War II had ended, an Associated Press reporter went to interview the 62-year-old princess. According to the reporter, Aly was “so broke she even has trouble getting enough coal for the tiny stove in her cluttered little trailer.”88 When she couldn’t afford coal, she burned paper to keep warm. She told the reporter she wanted to go back to America. She said, “There one can do what one likes. Here people are always shocked. I’ve been just as broke in America. I’ve seen the times there when I lived on hot dogs. I’ll get back to America yet.”89
But without any money, her options for travel were few and far between. Luckily, Aly had learned a thing or two during her first trip to America – including the power of the press. Once again, it came to her rescue.
The Art of Getting By
When that 1950 Associated Press story appeared in newspapers all across America, it reached an American friend of Aly’s named Leona Halliday. Like Aly, Leona had been born into wealth. Her father, Ward Beecher Holloway, had been the business partner of a man named King Camp Gillette. Together, they founded the Gillette Safety Razor Company. In 1950, Leona and her husband, Fred Halliday, owned the former Gillette estate in Palm Springs, which they dreamed of turning into a desert bird sanctuary.90 And when Leona read that article describing Aly shivering in her trailer, she offered to pay for Aly to come to America for another string of exhibitions.
Aly accepted the invitation. In November of 1950, she sailed for New York, with about 45 landscape paintings of Schleswig-Holstein and Wiesbaden with her. On the ship, once passengers found out who she was, they asked her to stage an on-board exhibition, and she gladly obliged.91
Aly made her way from New York to Atlanta, where she stayed with her old friends, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Hecht. She held an exhibit and then accompanied the couple to Palm Beach that December. There, she exhibited a few watercolor landscape scenes at the Norton School of Art.92 She also offered these words of advice for aspiring artists: “Have the love of art in your mind and in your heart if you want to be a success. Painting is more than just using a brush and the right colors.”93
Finally, to reach her benefactor in California, Aly traveled across the country. She arrived in March of 1951 and stayed with Leona and Fred at their Palm Springs estate.94 She exhibited her work in Hermosa Beach that May.95
But this trip to America wasn’t quite like her first one. Last time, the press had made a fuss over Aly because she was the kaiser’s daughter-in-law. But she was older now, and memories of the German imperial family had faded. Her story didn’t capture the same level of interest it had in the late 1920s, and this time, newspaper mentions of Aly and her artwork are few and far between.
It’s not clear exactly when Aly went back to Europe. Her name simply dropped out of American newspapers after the spring of 1951. A few years later, in 1955, she traveled through Spain and Morocco before settling once more in Wiesbaden.96 At the age of almost age 70, on April 15, 1957, she had one more trip planned – but it was not to be. She died unexpectedly in a hotel in France.
In 1969, twelve years after her death, her cousin, Prince Friedrich Ferdinand, held an exhibition in her memory at Schloss Glücksburg.97 In all the years since, I could only find mentions of two paintings of hers that have come up for auction since then. One, “Gladiolen,” was painted in 1931 and sold in 2023.98
The other, a landscape watercolor of Schleswig-Holstein, was painted in 1948 and sold for $175 in 2024.99
If by any chance you were the buyer, I’d love to hear from you. There are probably many more of Aly’s paintings in attics and closets, long forgotten, but waiting to be rediscovered by someone who knows her story. If you find one, I hope this video helps you appreciate the woman behind the paintbrush – once a princess but always an artist.
The End
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Notes
1. “Former Wife of Wilhelm’s Son in S.F.,” San Francisco Examiner, March 8, 1929, p. 21
2. Howard, 34-35
3. Viktoria Luise, 173
4. Machtan, 24
5. Machtan, 30
6. Machtan, 32
7. “German Kaiser’s Fourth Son and His Fiancee,” Champaign Daily News, Oct. 31, 1908, p. 11
8. Keen, 20; Machtan, 36
9. Davenport, 42
10. Lindsey, Estella Lawton. “Princess’ Brush Earns Her Living,” Pasadena Post, April 12, 1929, p. 9
11. Machtan, 107
12. Machtan, 113
13. Machtan, 48.
14. Machtan, 58
15. Keen, 198-9
16. Keen, 199-200
17. “Former Wife of Kaiser’s Fourth Son,” The Republican, April 1, 1927, p. 19
18. Benedict, 41-42
19. Davis, Arthur N. “The Kaiser and the War,” Evening Mail, Sept. 6, 1918, p. 7
20. Machtan, 54-55
21. “The City of Dreadful Dulness,” The Bystander, Nov. 18, 1914, p. 24
22. Pless, 281
23. Rattigan, 233
24. “Kaiser’s Son Injured,” Sunday Post, Nov. 22, 1914, p. 1
25. Machtan, 59
26. Machtan, 66
27. Machtan, 69
28. Machtan, 70
29. Machtan, 107
30. Ibid
31. Machtan, 108
32. Machtan, 75
33. Viktoria Luise, 139
34. Machtan, 85
35. Machtan, 94
36. Machtan, 110
37. Machtan, 106
38. Machtan, 113
39. Machtan, 112
40. Machtan, 106
41. Machtan, 112
42. Machtan, 115
43. Machtan, 116; Bourbon Witte, Count W.S. “No Dad to Guide, Kaiser’s Kin Roam,” The Plain Dealer, Oct. 24, 1926, p. 47
44. Machtan, 118
45. Davenport, 42
46. “Princess Weds Chauffeur,” Daily Mirror, July 24, 1920, p. 3
47. Lindsey, Pasadena Post
48. “Princess Paints To Earn Her Way To World Travel,” Kansas City Star, March 9, 1928, p. 23
49. Machtan, 122
50. Ibid
51. Kaltenborn, Olga. “Quits Castle for a Kitchenette,” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Feb. 20, 1927, p. 77
52. “Princess Cooks Breakfast,” Lancashire Evening Post, Nov. 26, 1926
53. Worth, Helen. “Princess Alexandra, Ex-Daughter-in-Law Of Former Kaiser, Here for Winter; Rents Tiny Apartment and Will Do Own Work,” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Dec. 5, 1926, p. 27
54. Kaltenborn, Brooklyn Daily Eagle
55. Davenport, 42
56. Mackender, Harold. “Back of the Newspaper Headlines,” The Plain Dealer, Oct. 20, 1929, p. 24
57. Kahn, Dot. “Kaiser’s Kin Will Paint American Scenes, Portraits,” Press of Atlantic City, Dec. 31, 1928 p. 2
58. Lindsey, Pasadena Post
59. Kahn, Press of Atlantic City
60. Machtan, 123
61. Kaltenborn, Brooklyn Daily Eagle
62. Davenport, 42
63. “Kaiser’s Niece Visits Atlanta,” Atlanta Journal, Jan. 18, 1931, p. 60
64. “Princess Paints To Earn Her Way To World Travel,” Kansas City Star, March 9 1928, p. 23
65. “Kaiser’s Niece Here to Exhibit Paintings,” The Plain Dealer, April 19, 1930, pp. 1, 4
66. Lindsey, Pasadena Post
67. Kahn, Press of Atlantic City
68. “Princess Alexandra Victoria Praises City as She Prepares Exhibit Here Next Week,” Morning Press, March 1, 1929, p. 3
69. Lindsey, Pasadena Post
70. “New York,” Hartford Courant, Jan. 19, 1930, p. 112 (8D)
71. Smith, 4-6; Rauhauser-Smith, Kate. “History Maker: Sylvester Clark Long, aka Buffalo Child Long Lance,” Winston-Salem Magazine, February 1, 2022. (URL)
72. Smith, Gretchen. “Princess Travels Like Gypsy,” Evening Star, April 18, 1931, p. 16
73. “Kaiser’s Niece…,” Atlanta Journal, Jan. 18, 1931, p. 60
74. Smith, Evening Star
75. “Princess Victoria in Winter Park,” Orlando Sentinel, Feb. 18, 1931, p. 6
76. Jewett, Eleanor. “Princess Here with Paintings; Work Praised,” Chicago Daily Tribune, Nov. 25, 1930, p. 33
77. Eliot, Jean. “Novelty Party Delights Guests of Mrs. Junkin,” Washington Herald, April 23, 1931, p. 7
78. “Personal Mention,” Atlanta Journal, April 12, 1932, p. 17
79. “Kaiser’s Niece visits Atlanta,” Atlanta Journal, Jan. 18, 1931, p. 60
80. “Prinzessin Alexandra Viktoria,” Der Spiegel, Dec. 21, 1949
81. “Court Pans Princess’ Art, Gives Subject Money Back,” Daily News, Oct. 15, 1933, p. 32
82. Ibid
83. Grosse Berliner Kunstausstellung 1942, p. 32
84. “Penniless German Princess Earns Meager Living Painting Pictures,” The Arizona Republic, April 9, 1950, p. 25
85. “Prinzessin Alexandra Viktoria,” Der Spiegel
86. “Penniless…,” The Arizona Republic
87. “Prinzessin Alexandra Viktoria,” Der Spiegel
88. “Penniless…,” The Arizona Republic
89. “Penniless…,” The Arizona Republic
90. “Broker closes escrow on landmark PS estates,” Palm Desert Post, Nov. 18, 1962, p. 12
91. Richards, Alice. “German Princess Brings Paintings of Home,” Atlanta Journal, Nov. 29, 1950, p. 23
92. “Art Leaguers Will Meet Dehn,” Palm Beach Post, Jan. 4, 1951, p. 8
93. Gwin, Yolande. “Princess Gives Advice for Artists,” Atlanta Constitution, Nov. 29, 1950, p. 18
94. “Social Lights by the Baron,” The Santa Barbara Star, March 22, 1951, p. 5
95. “Princess Exhibits Oils, Water Colors,” The Daily Breeze, May 31, 1951, p. 22
96. Arts, Martijn. “Princess Alexandra Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein-Glücksburg: A Princess in a Caravan,” Royalty Digest Quarterly, 2024: 1, p. 15.
97. Catrin Haufschild. „Alexandra Viktoria zu Schleswig-Holstein: Die Prinzessin im Wohnwagen,“ Flensburger Tageblatt , June 20, 2015. (URL)
98. “Alexandra Viktoria von Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg 1887 – 1957.” MutualArt.com.
99. “Princess Alexandra Victoria landscape watercolor Schleswig-Holstein.” ConceptGallery.com.
Sources
These are all my sources for both parts of this story. Any URL after the listing for a book is a free, public domain copy you can read online. Yay! Any link in the title of a book is my Amazon affiliate link.
Books, Journal Articles, Websites
Arts, Martijn. “Princess Alexandra Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein-Glücksburg: A Princess in a Caravan.” Royalty Digest Quarterly, 2024: 1, pp 11-15.
“Alexandra Viktoria von Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg 1887 – 1957.” MutualArt.com.
Benedict, Clare. Six Months, March-August 1914. Cooperstown, NY: Arthur H. Crist Co., 1914. (URL)
Davenport, Walter. “A Princess Looks Backward.” Collier’s: March 26, 1927, pp. 30, 42. (URL)
Davis, Arthur Newton. The Kaiser I Knew. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1918.
Gleichen, Helena. Contacts and Contrasts. London: John Murray, 1940. (URL)
Grosse Berliner Kunstausstellung 1942. Berlin: Nationalgalerie, 1942. p 32. (URL)
Howard, Ethel. Potsdam Princes. New York: E.P. Dutton and Company, 1915. (URL)
Keen, Edith. Seven Years at the Prussian Court. New York: John Lane Company, 1917. (URL)
Machtan, Lothar. Der Kaisersohn bei Hitler. Hamburg: Hoffmann und Campe Verlag, 2006.
Pless, Daisy. Daisy, Princess of Pless by Herself. New York: EP Dutton & Co. Inc., 1929. (URL)
“Princess Alexandra Victoria landscape watercolor Schleswig-Holstein.” ConceptGallery.com.
Radziwill, Catherine. The Royal Marriage Market of Europe. New York: Funk and Wagnalls, 1915. (URL)
Rattigan, Frank. Diversions of a Diplomat. London: Chapman and Hall, 1924. (URL)
Rauhauser-Smith, Kate. “History Maker: Sylvester Clark Long, aka Buffalo Child Long Lance.” Winston-Salem Magazine, February 1, 2022. (URL)
Röhl, John. Wilhelm II: Into the Abyss of War and Exile, 1900-1941. Translated by Sheila de Bellaigue and Roy Bridge. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014.
Saul, Norman E. The Life and Times of Charles R. Crane. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2013.
Smith, Donald B. Long Lance: The True Story of an Impostor. Toronto, Canada: Macmillan of Canada, 1982.
Topham, Anne. Memories of the Kaiser’s Court. New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1914. (URL)
Viktoria Luise. The Kaiser’s Daughter. Translated and edited by Robert Vacha. London: W.H. Allen, 1977.
Newspaper Articles, Quoted
“The City of Dreadful Dulness,” The Bystander, Nov. 18, 1914, p 24.
“Court Pans Princess’ Art, Gives Subject Money Back,” Daily News (NY), Oct. 15, 1933, p 32.
Davis, Arthur N. “The Kaiser and the War.” Evening Mail, Sept. 6, 1918, p. 7.
“Former Wife of Kaiser’s Fourth Son Happy in Tiny New York Flat,” The Republican, April 1, 1927, p 19.
“Former Wife of Wilhelm’s Son in S.F.,” San Francisco Examiner, March 8, 1929, p 21.
“Four Hundred View Works of Princess At Museum Sunday,” Atlanta Constitution, Feb. 2, 1931, p 16.
Gwin, Yolande. “Princess Gives Advice for Artists.” Atlanta Constitution, Nov. 29, 1950, p 18.
Hale, Marian. “Once Sad Princess Tells of Rise From Royal Castle to Kitchenette.” San Angelo Evening Standard, Dec. 27, 1926, p 2.
Jewett, Eleanor. “Princess Here with Paintings; Work Praised.” Chicago Daily Tribune, Nov. 25, 1930, p 33.
Kahn, Dot. “Kaiser’s Kin Will Paint American Scenes, Portraits.” Press of Atlantic City, Dec. 31, 1928, p 2.
“Kaiser’s Niece Here to Exhibit Paintings,” Plain Dealer, April 19, 1930, p 4.
“Kaiser’s Niece Visits Atlanta,” Atlanta Journal, Jan. 18, 1931, p 60.
Kaltenborn, Olga. “Quits Castle for a Kitchenette.” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Feb. 20, 1927, p 77.
Lindsey, Estelle Lawton. “Princess’ Brush Earns Her Living.” Pasadena Post, April 12, 1929, p 9.
Mackender, Harold, “Back of the Newspaper Headlines,” The Plain Dealer, Oct 20, 1929, p 24
“Paintings Are on Exhibition,” Palm Beach Post, March 19, 1930, p 9.
“Pauper Princess Clings to Dream of Touring U.S.,” Sanders County Ledgers, Oct. 3, 1951, p A3.
“Penniless German Princess Earns Meager Living Painting Pictures,” Arizona Republic, April 9, 1950, p 25. (listed as by Don Doane when in Jan 29, 1950 version in Ledger-Enquirer p 17)
“Princess Paints To Earn Her Way To World Travel,” Kansas City Star, March 9, 1928, p. 23.
“Princess Weds Chauffeur,” Daily Mirror, July, 24 1920, p. 3.
Smith, Gretchen. “Princess Travels Like Gypsy.” Evening Star, April 18, 1931, p. 16.
Worth, Helen. “Princess Alexandra, Ex-Daughter-in-Law Of Former Kaiser, Here for Winter; Rents Tiny Apartment and Will Do Own Work.” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Dec. 5, 1926, p 27.
Newspaper Articles, Not Quoted
Atlanta Constitution (Feb. 2 & 13 & 15, 1931; Nov. 29, 1950)
Atlanta Journal (Jan. 18, 1931; April 12, 1932; Nov. 28 & 29, 1950)
Baltimore Sun (Feb. 21, 1932)
Bayonne Times (April 15, 1957)
Berliner Tageblatt und Handels-Zeitung (Dec. 27, 1906)
Birmingham News (May 3, 1931)
Champaign Daily News (Oct. 31, 1908)
Chicago Tribune (Dec. 28, 1930); Chicago Sunday Tribune Paris edition (Oct. 20, 1929)
Daily Mirror (July 24, 1920)
Daily News (Nov. 10, 1927)
Der Spiegel (Dec. 12, 1949) (URL)
Fort Worth Star-Telegram (April 2, 1932 & Nov. 17, 1950)
Flensburger Tageblatt (June 20, 2015) (URL)
Hallische Nachrichten (Jan 9, 1922, p 2)
Hartford Courant (Jan. 19, 1930)
The Inter Ocean (Oct. 5, 1903)
Kansas City Star (March 9, 1928)
Kansas City Times (Dec. 31, 1926)
Lancashire Evening Post (Nov. 26, 1926)
Los Angeles Times (Aug. 15, 1940)
Miami News (Jan. 25, 1931; Dec. 17, 1950)
Morning Press (March 1, 1929; March 6, 1929)
New York Times (Jan. 25, 1927; Jan. 31, 1929; April 1, 1957)
Orlando Sentinel (Feb. 18, 1931)
Palm Beach Post (Jan. 27, 1931; Dec. 12, 1950; Jan. 4, 1951)
Palm Desert Post (Nov. 18, 1962)
Palm Springs News (Feb. 6, 1951)
The Plain Dealer (Oct. 24, 1926; April 19, 1930)
Queenslander (June 23, 1932)
Richford Journal and Gazette (Dec. 3, 1926)
The Santa Barbara Star (March 22, 1951)
Sunday Post (Nov. 22, 1914; July 25, 1920)
Washington Herald (April 23, 1931)
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- All images public domain via Wikimedia Commons unless otherwise noted in the caption.
- Header image: Aly by Ferdinand Urbahns, public domain via Wikimedia Commons.
- Background music in audio post licensed via Artlist.io.