Books: The Hohenzollerns in America
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Stephen Leacock >> The Hohenzollerns in America
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"What do you do if Henry's mutilated?" asked Mr. Spugg,
turning his quiet eyes on the insurance man and facing
the brutal facts of things without flinching. "What do
you pay? Suppose I lose the use of Henry's legs, what
then?"
"It's all right," said his friend. "Leave it to us.
Whatever he loses, we make it good."
"All right," said Spugg, "send me round a policy. I'm
going to see Henry clear through on this."
It was at this point that at my own urgent request I was
introduced to Mr. Spugg, so that I might add my
congratulations to those of the others. I told him that
I felt, as all the other members of the club did, that
he was doing a big thing, and he answered again, in his
modest way, that he didn't see what else a man could do.
"My son Alfred and I," he said, "talked it over last
night and we agreed that we can run the car ourselves,
or make a shot at it anyway. After all, it's war time."
"What branch of the service are you putting your chauffeur
in?" I asked.
"I'm not sure," he answered. "I think I'll send him up
in the air. It's dangerous, of course, but it's no time
to think about that."
So, in due time, Mr. Spugg's chauffeur, Henry, went
overseas. He was reported first as in England. Next he
was right at the front, at the very firing itself. We
knew then,--everybody in the club knew that Mr. Spugg's
chauffeur might be killed at any moment. But great as
the strain must have been, Spugg went up and down to his
office and in and out of the club without a tremor. The
situation gave him a new importance in our eyes, something
tense.
"This seems to be a terrific business," I said to him
one day at lunch, "this new German drive."
"My chauffeur," said Mr. Spugg, "was right in the middle
of it."
"He was, eh?"
"Yes," he continued, "one shell burst in the air so near
him it almost broke his wings."
Mr. Spugg told this with no false boasting or bravado,
eating his celery as he spoke of it. Here was a man who
had nearly had his chauffeur's wings blown off and yet
he never moved a muscle. I began to realize the kind of
resolute stuff that the man was made of.
A few days later bad news came to the club.
"Have you heard the bad news about Spugg?" someone asked.
"No, what?"
"His chauffeur's been gassed."
"How is he taking it?"
"Fine. He's sending off his gardener to take the chauffeur's
place."
So that was Mr. Spugg's answer to the Germans.
We lunched together that day.
"Yes," he said, "Henry's gassed. How it happened I don't
know. He must have come down out of the air. I told him
I wanted him in the air. But let it pass. It's done now."
"And you're sending your gardener?"
"I am," said Spugg. "He's gone already. I called him in
from the garden yesterday. I said, 'William, Henry's been
gassed. Our first duty is to keep up our man power at
the front. You must leave to-night.'"
"What are you putting William into?" I asked
"Infantry. He'll do best in the trenches,--digs well and
is a very fair shot. Anyway I want him to see all the
fighting that's going. If the Germans want give and take
in this business they can have it. They'll soon see who
can stand it best. I told William when he left. I said,
'William, we've got to show these fellows that man for
man we're a match for them.' That's the way I look at
it, man for man."
I watched Mr. Spugg's massive face as he went on with
his meal. Not a nerve of it moved. If he felt any fear,
at least he showed no trace of it.
After that I got war news from him at intervals, in little
scraps, as I happened to meet him. "The war looks bad,"
I said to him one day as I chanced upon him getting into
his motor. "This submarine business is pretty serious."
"It is," he said, "William was torpedoed yesterday."
Then he got into his car and drove away, as quietly as
if nothing had happened.
A little later that day I heard him talking about it in
the club. "Yes," he was saying, "a submarine. It torpedoed
William,--my gardener. I have both a chauffeur and a
gardener at the war. William was picked up on a raft.
He's in pretty bad shape. My son Alfred had a cable from
him that he's coming home. We've both telegraphed him to
stick it out."
The news was the chief topic in the club that day. "Spugg's
gardener has been torpedoed," they said, "but Spugg
refuses to have him quit and come home." "Well done,
Spugg," said everybody.
After that we had news from time to time about both
William and Henry.
"Henry's out of the hospital," said Spugg. "I hope to
have him back in France in a few days. William's in bad
shape still. I had a London surgeon go and look at him.
I told him not to mind the expense but to get William
fixed up right away. It seems that one arm is more or
less paralysed. I've wired back to him not to hesitate.
They say William's blood is still too thin for the
operation. I've cabled to them to take some of Henry's.
I hate to do it, but this is no time to stick at anything."
A little later William and Henry were reported both back
in France. This was at the very moment of the great
offensive. But Spugg went about his daily business unmoved.
Then came the worst news of all. "William and Henry," he
said to me, "are both missing. I don't know where the
devil they are."
"Missing?" I repeated.
"Both of them. The Germans have caught them both. I
suppose I shan't have either of them back now till the
war is all over."
He gave a slight sigh,--the only sign of complaint that
ever I had heard come from him.
But the next day we learned what was Spugg's answer to
the German's capture of William and Henry.
"Have you heard what Spugg is doing?" the members of the
club asked one another.
"What?"
"He's sending over Meadows, HIS OWN MAN!"
There was no need to comment on it. The cool courage of
the thing spoke for itself. Meadows,--Spugg's own man,--his
house valet, without whom he never travelled twenty miles!
"What else was there to do?" said Mr. Spugg when I asked
him if it was true that Meadows was going. "I take no
credit for sending Meadows nor, for the matter of that,
for anything that Meadows may do over there. It was a
simple matter of duty. My son and I had him into the
dining room last night after dinner. 'Meadows,' we said,
'Henry and William are caught. Our man power at the front
has got to be kept up. There's no one left but ourselves
and you. There's no way out of it. You'll have to go.'"
"But how," I protested, "can you get along with Meadows,
your valet, gone? You'll be lost!"
"We must do the best we can. We've talked it all over.
My son will help me dress and I will help him. We can
manage, no doubt."
So Meadows went.
After this Mr. Spugg, dressed as best he could manage
it, and taking turns with his son in driving his own
motor, was a pathetic but uncomplaining object.
Meadows meantime was reported as with the heavy artillery,
doing well. "I hope nothing happens to Meadows," Spugg
kept saying. "If it does, we're stuck. We can't go
ourselves. We're too busy. We've talked it over and we've
both decided that it's impossible to get away from the
office,--not with business as brisk as it is now. We're
busier than we've been in ten years and can't get off
for a day. We may try to take a month off for the
Adirondacks a little later but as for Europe, it's out
of the question."
Meantime, one little bit of consolation came to help Mr.
Spugg to bear the burden of the war. I found him in the
lounge room of the club one afternoon among a group of
men, exhibiting two medals that were being passed from
hand to hand.
"Sent to me by the French government," he explained
proudly. "They're for William and Henry. The motto means,
'For Conspicuous Courage"' (Mr. Spugg drew himself up
with legitimate pride). "I shall keep one and let Alfred
keep the other till they come back." Then he added, as
an afterthought, "They may never come back."
From that day on, Mr. Spugg, with his French medal on
his watch chain, was the most conspicuous figure in the
club. He was pointed out as having done more than any
other one man in the institution to keep the flag flying.
But presently the limit of Mr. Spugg's efforts and
sacrifices was reached. Even patriotism such as his must
have some bounds.
On entering the club one afternoon I could hear his voice
bawling vociferously in one of the telephone cabinets in
the hall. "Hello, Washington," he was shouting. "Is that
Washington? Long Distance, I want Washington."
Fifteen minutes later he came up to the sitting room,
still flushed with indignation and excitement. "That's
the limit," he said, "the absolute limit!"
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"They drafted my son Alfred," he answered.
"Just imagine it! When we're so busy in the office that
we're getting down there at half past eight in the morning!
Drafted Alfred! 'Great Caesar' I said to them! 'Look
here! You've had my chauffeur and he's gassed, and you've
had my gardener and he's torpedoed and they're both
prisoners, and last month I sent you my own man! That,'
I said, 'is about the limit.'"
"What did they say," I asked.
"Oh, it's all right. They've fixed it all up and they've
apologized as well. Alfred won't go, of course, but it
makes one realise that you can carry a thing too far.
Why, they'd be taking me next!"
"Oh, surely not!" I said.
3.--If Germany Had Won
Sometimes, in the past, we have grown a little impatient
with our North American civilisation, with its strident
clamour, its noisy elections, its extremes of liberty,
its occasional corruption and the faults that we now see
were the necessary accompaniments of its merits. But let
us set beside it a picture such as this, taken from the
New York Imperial Gazette of 1925--or from any paper of
the same period, such as would have been published if
Germany had won.
----
General Boob of Boobenstiff, Imperial Governor of New
York, will attend divine (Imperial) service on Sunday
morning next at the church of St. John the (Imperial)
Divine. The subway cars will be stopped while the General
is praying. All subway passengers are enjoined (befohlen),
during the thus-to-be-ordered period of cessation, to
remain in a reverential attitude. Those in the seats will
keep the head bowed. Those holding to the straps will
elevate one leg, keeping the knee in the air.
On Monday evening General Boob von Boobenstiff, Imperial
Governor of New York, will be graciously pleased to attend
a performance at the (Imperial) Winter Garden on Upper
(Imperial) Broadway. It is ordered that on the entrance
of His Excellency the audience will spontaneously rise
and break into three successive enthusiastic cheers. Mr.
Al Jolson will remain kneeling on the stage till the
Gubernatorial All Highest has seated itself. Mr. Jolson
will then, by special (Imperial) permission, be allowed
to make four jokes in German to be taken from a list
supplied by the Imperial Censor of Humour. The Governor,
accompanied by his military staff, will then leave, and
the performance will close.
----
It is ordered that, on Tuesday afternoon, as a sign of
thankfulness for the blessings of the German peace, the
business men of New York shall walk in procession from
the Battery to the Bronx. They will then be inspected by
Governor Boobenstiff. If the Governor is delayed in
arriving at the hereafter-to-be-indicated point of general
put-yourself-there, the procession will walk back to the
Battery and back again, continuing so, pro and con, till
the arrival of the Governor.
----
The approaching visit of His Royal and Imperial Solemnity
the Prince Apparent of Bavaria shall be heralded in the
(Imperial) City of New York with general rejoicing. The
city shall be spontaneously decorated with flags. Smiles
of cordial welcome shall appear on every face. Animated
crowds of eager citizens shall move to and fro and shouts
of welcome shall, by order of the Chief of Police, break
from the lips. Among those who are expected to be in
the Imperial city to welcome his Royal Solemnity will be
the Hereditary Grand Duke of Schlitzin-Mein (formerly
Milwaukee), the Prince Margrave of Wisconsin and the
Hereditary Chief Constable of Nevada.
----
We are delighted to be able to chronicle that on the
morning of the 14th there was born at the Imperial
Residence of His Simplicity the Hereditary Governor of
the Provinz (formerly State) of New York, in the (Imperial)
city of Albany a tenth son to the illustrious Prince and
Princess who rule over us with such fatherly care. The
boy was christened yesterday at the (Imperial) Lutheran
Church and is to bear the name Frederick Wilhelm Amelia
Mary Johan Heinrich Ruprecht. The whole city of Albany
is thrown into the wildest rejoicing. The legislature
has voted an addition of $400,000 per annum to the civil
list for the maintenance of the young prince. Joy suffuses
every home. This being the tenth son born to their
Highnesses in ten years it is felt that the future of
the dynasty is more or less secured. Even the humblest
home is filled with the reflected joy that streams out
from the Residency. Their Royal Highnesses appeared
yesterday on the balcony amid the wild huzzoos of the
people transported with joy. His Simplicity the Prince
wore the full dress uniform of an Imperial Jaeger of the
Adirondacks, and Her Royal Highness was attired as a
Colonel of Artillery. It is impossible to express the
jubilation of the moment.
----
We regret to report that owing to the jostling (possibly
accidental, but none the less actual) of an Imperial
officer--Field-Lieutenant Schmidt--at the entrance to
Brooklyn Bridge, the bridge is declared closed to the
public until further notice. We are proud to state the
Field Lieutenant at once cut down his cowardly assailant
with his saber. It has pleased His Unspeakable Loftiness,
the German Emperor, to cable his congratulations to the
Lieutenant, who will receive The Order of the Dead Dog
for the noble way in which he has maintained the traditions
of his uniform.
----
A striking feature of the now-taking-place Art Exhibition
at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute (formerly Metropolitan
Gallery) in the Thiergarten (formerly Central Park) is
offered by the absolutely marvellous paintings exhibited by
the Princess Marie Paul Cecilie Hohenzollern-Stickitintothem,
a cousin of Our Noble Governor. The paintings which the
Princess has been preciously pleased to paint and has even
stooped to exhibit to the filled-with-wonder eye of the
public have been immediately awarded the first prize in
each class. While it would be invidious even to suggest that
any one of Her High Incipiency's pictures is better than any
other, our feeling is that especially the picture Night on
the Hudson River is of so rare a quality both of technique
and of inspiration that it supersedes the bounds of the
hitherto-thought-to-be-possible art in America. The
Princess's conception of night, black as a pall and yet
luminous as a polished stove pipe, is only equalled by
her feeling towards the Hudson which lies extended in
soporific superficiality beneath the sable covering of
darkness in which Her Highness has been pleased to
overwhelm it. Throughout the day an eager-to-see crowd
of spectators were beaten back from the picture by the
police with clubs.
----
We are permitted officially to confirm the already
gladly-from-mouth-to-mouth-whispered news of an approaching
marriage between Prince Heinrich of Texas and the Princess
Amelia Victoria Louisa, Hereditary Heir Consumptive of
the Imperial Provinz of Maine. The marriage, so it is
whispered, although performed in accordance with the
wishes of the Emperor as expressed by cable, is in every
way a love match. What lends a touch of romance to the
betrothal of the Royal Younglings is that the Prince had
never even seen the Princess Amelia until the day when
the legislature of the Provinz of Maine voted her a
marriage portion of half a million dollars. Immediately
on this news a secret visit was arranged, the Prince
journeying to Bangor incognito as the Count of Flim-Flam
in the costume of an officer of the Imperial Scavengers.
On receipt of the Emperor's telegram the happy pair fell
in love with one another at once. What makes the approaching
union particularly auspicious for the whole country is
that it brings with it the union of Maine and Texas,
henceforth to form a single grateful provinz. The Royal
Pair, it is understood, will live alternately in each
province a month at a time and the legislature, the
executive officials, the courts of law and the tax
collectors will follow them to and fro.
We cannot but contrast this happy issue with the turbulence
and disorder in which our country lived before the Great
War of Liberation.
----
We are delighted to learn from our despatches from Boston
that the Hohenzollern Institute (formerly Harvard
University) is to be opened next autumn. By express
permission of the Imperial Government, classes in English
will be permitted for half an hour each day.
By the clemency of the Emperor the sentences of W. H.
Taft, and W. Wilson have been commuted from the sentence
of fifty years imprisonment to imprisonment for life. We
hope, in a special supplement, to be able to add the full
list of sentences, executions, imprisonments, fines, and
attainders that have been promulgated in honour of the
birthday of our Imperial Sovereign.
4.--War and Peace at the Galaxy Club
The Great Peace Kermesse at the Galaxy Club, to which I
have the honour to belong, held with a view to wipe out
the Peace Deficit of the Club, has just ended. For three
weeks our club house has been a blaze of illumination.
We have had four orchestras in attendance. There have
been suppers and dances every night. Our members have
not spared themselves.
The Kermesse is now over. We have time, as our lady
members are saying, to turn round.
For the moment we are sitting listening, amid bursts of
applause, to our treasurer's statement. As we hear it we
realise that this Peace Kermesse has proved the culmination
and crown of four winters' war work.
But I must explain from the beginning.
Our efforts began with the very opening of the war. We
felt that a rich organisation like ours ought to do
something for the relief of the Belgians. At the same
time we felt that our members would rather receive
something in the way of entertainment for their money
than give it straight out of their pockets.
We therefore decided first to hold a public lecture in
the club, and engaged the services of Professor Dry to
lecture on the causes of the war.
In view of the circumstances, Professor Dry very kindly
reduced his lecture fee, which (he assured us) is generally
two hundred and fifty dollars, to two hundred and forty.
The lecture was most interesting. Professor Dry traced
the causes of the War backwards through the Middle Ages.
He showed that it represented the conflict of the
brachiocephalic culture of the Wendic races with the
dolichocephalic culture of the Alpine stock. At the time
when the lights went out he had got it back to the eighth
century before Christ.
Unfortunately the night, being extremely wet, was
unfavourable. Few of our members care to turn out to
lectures in wet weather. The treasurer was compelled to
announce to the Committee a net deficit of two hundred
dollars. Some of the ladies of the Committee moved that
the entire deficit be sent to the Belgians, but were
overruled by the interference of the men.
But the error was seen to have been in the choice of the
lecturer. Our members were no longer interested in the
causes of the war. The topic was too old. We therefore
held another public lecture in the club, on the topic
What Will Come After the War. It was given by a very
talented gentleman, a Mr. Guess, a most interesting
speaker, who reduced his fee (as the thing was a war
charity) by one-half, leaving it at three hundred dollars.
Unhappily the weather was against us. It was too fine.
Our members scarcely care to listen to lectures in fine
weather. And it turned out that our members are not
interested in what will come after the war. The topic is
too new. Our receipts of fifty dollars left us with a
net deficit of two hundred and fifty. Our treasurer
therefore proposed that we should carry both deficits
forward and open a Special Patriotic Entertainment Account
showing a net total deficit of four hundred and fifty
dollars.
In the opinion of the committee our mistake had been in
engaging outside talent. It was felt that the cost of
this was prohibitive. It was better to invite the services
of the members of the club themselves. A great number of
the ladies expressed their willingness to take part in
any kind of war work that took the form of public
entertainment.
Accordingly we presented a play. It was given in the ball
room of the club house, a stage being specially put up
for us by a firm of contractors. The firm (as a matter
of patriotism) did the whole thing for us at cost, merely
charging us with the labour, the material, the time, the
thought and the anxiety that they gave to the job, but
for nothing else. In fact, the whole staging, including
lights, plumbing and decorations was merely a matter of
five hundred dollars. The plumbers very considerately
made no charge for their time, but only for their work.
It was felt that it would be better to have a new play
than an old. We selected a brilliant little modern
drawing-room comedy never yet presented. The owner of
the copyright, a theatrical firm, let us use it for a
merely nominal fee of two hundred dollars, including the
sole right to play the piece forever. There being only
twenty-eight characters in it, it was felt to be more
suitable than a more ambitious thing. The tickets were
placed at one dollar, no one being admitted free except
the performers themselves, and the members who very kindly
acted as scene shifters, curtain lifters, ushers, door-keepers,
programme sellers, and the general committee of management.
All the performers, at their own suggestion, supplied their
own costumes, charging nothing to the club except the material
and the cost of dressmaking. Beyond this there was no expense
except for the fee, very reasonable, of Mr. Skip, the
professional coach who trained the performers, and who asked
us, in view of the circumstances, less than half of what he
would have been willing to accept.
The proceeds were to be divided between the Belgian Fund
and the Red Cross, giving fifty per cent to each. A motion
in amendment from the ladies' financial committee to give
fifty per cent to the Belgian Fund and sixty per cent to
the Red Cross was voted down.
Unfortunately it turned out that the idea of a PLAY was
a mistake in judgment. Our members, it seemed, did not
care to go to see a play except in a theatre. A great
number of them, however, very kindly turned out to help
in shifting the scenery and in acting as ushers.
Our treasurer announced, as the result of the play, a
net deficit of twelve hundred dollars. He moved, with
general applause, that it be carried forward.
The total deficit having now reached over sixteen hundred
dollars, there was a general feeling that a very special
effort must be made to remove it. It was decided to hold
Weekly Patriotic Dances in the club ball room, every
Saturday evening. No charge was made for admission to
the dances, but a War Supper was served at one dollar a
head.
Unfortunately the dances, as first planned, proved again
an error. It appeared that though our members are
passionately fond of dancing, few if any of them cared
to eat at night. The plan was therefore changed. The
supper was served first, and was free, and for the dancing
after supper a charge was made of one dollar, per person.
This again was an error. It seems that after our members
have had supper they prefer to go home and sleep. After
one winter of dancing the treasurer announced a total
Patriotic Relief Deficit of five thousand dollars, to be
carried forward to next year. This sum duly appeared in
the annual balance sheet of the club. The members,
especially the ladies, were glad to think that we were
at least doing SOMETHING for the war.
At this point some of our larger men, themselves financial
experts, took hold. They said that our entertainments
had been on too small a scale. They told us that we had
been "undermined by overhead expenses." The word "overhead"
was soon on everybody's lips. We were told that if we
could "distribute our overhead" it would disappear. It
was therefore planned to hold a great War Kermesse with
a view to spreading out the overhead so thin that it
would vanish.
But it was at this very moment that the Armistice burst
upon us in a perfectly unexpected fashion. Everyone of
our members was, undoubtedly, delighted that the war was
over but there was a very general feeling that it would
have been better if we could have had a rather longer
notice of what was coming. It seemed, as many of our
members said, such a leap in the dark to rush into peace
all at once. It was said indeed by our best business men
that in financial circles they had been fully aware that
there was a danger of peace for some time and had taken
steps to discount the peace risk.
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