While still at the gymnasium in Kassel the pubescent prince reached out one last time to his mother before breaking with her in haughty disdain and mutual recrimination. In the winter of 1874–5 Wilhelm began a series of letters to his mother – in English, naturally – recounting a recurring ‘dream’ he was having; letters that are remarkable not only for their evidently incestuous character but also for their fetishistic emphasis on her gloved left hand – a poignant cry for unconditional acceptance and love if ever there was one. ‘I have got a little secret which is for you alone viz. a peculiar dream,’ he wrote to Vicky in March 1875, shortly after her visit to Kassel for his sixteenth birthday.

Wilhelm hoped that his ‘dream’ would soon become reality. ‘I wish you would do the same when I am at Berlin, alone with you in the evening.’ And he continued, craving reassurance: ‘Pray write to me what you think about the dream; it is quite true as I have written it. You see I always think of you, my dear Mama, I sometimes dream of you; I am so glad that soon we shall sit together in you[r] dear library and cose [sic] together. But this dream is alone for you to know,’ he insisted. Several days later the ‘dream’ recurred.