Indianapolis Times, Volume 47, Number 278, Indianapolis, Marion County, 29 January 1936 — Page 11

It Seems to Me HEYM) BROUN ASHINGTON, Jan. 29.—Clara was crying. The ™ " rest of the Liberty Leaguers were either laughing or applauding. A1 was discussing the issues of the day and he had just said, “I have five children and I have ten grandchildren.” Or possibly it was at a later point where he attacked demagogs and cried out in a stirring voice. “There can be only one capital—Washington or Moscow." At any rate, Clara was crying all over what Jouett Shouse described as “our simple, modest $5 dinner." “What's the matter, Clara r ’

asked the gentleman who brought her, “aren’t you having a good time?” She lifted her tear-stained face and said, "He's saving the republic.” If I had not been at the party and had merely read the oration it might have been enough to say, “An old man from a tall tower vented an ancient grudge.” But, strangely enough, Al Smith did not dominate the evening. At times he seemed no more than some lightning-change artist who had come out from behind the potted palms to amuse the guests.

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Heywood Broun

The whole thing seemed unreal. Certainly it was surprising to hear A1 Smith begin a speech with a reference to his wife and end it with the Bible and the American flag. Almost any moment you expected to hear somebody interrupt to say, “This program comes to you through the courtesy of Yes. that was the mood, and the announcement might, have run. “This program comes through the courtesy of the shade of Mark Hanna and the ghost of Thomas Platt.” tt tt tt Roics Would Hove Liked II AS I looked about I almost expected to see Boies Penrose with a crowd at a table Just below the speaker's spot on the dais. Os course. I didn't. John W. Davis had that table. And even so one did not feel that we were dining in the land of the living. Practically all the guests seemed to have stepped from a page of Art Young caricatures done during the gay nineties. It is true A1 Smith stopped just this side of attacking the popular election of Senators, but here seemed to be men who saved us from Populism in 13% This was the guard which dies but never surrenders, the legion dedicated to the theory that the Status Quo shall not perish from this earth. And they laughed so long and so loud and clapped their hands so heartily that the sound of masses marching was scarcely audible. “I talked to my workers. 900 of them,” said the gray-haired man behind me, “and I told them just what A1 is saying tonight. I told them that they’d have to work their fingers off for every last nickel they ever earned, that it always had been so and it always would be so and, by gad, sir, I made them like it.” But now A1 was swinging into the question of taxation, and you could have heard a diamond bar pin drop. a a a Du Pouts Were There , r PHERE are three classes of people in this counL try.” said Al, “there are the poor and the rich and in between the two is what has often been referred to as the great backbone of America —that is, the plain fellow. That is the fellow that makes from SHOO a month up to the man that draws down SSOOO or S6OOO a year. Now. there is a, great big army. Forget the rich; they can’t pay this debt. If you took everything they have away from them they couldn't pay it; they ain't got enough.” And the big ballroom of the Mayflower rang with the happy applause of the diners who sat there trying to hide their proud poverty behind brave laughter. The speaker spoke of those who believe in a liberal interpretation of the Constitution and said, “What I have held all during my public life is that Almighty God is with this country and He didn't give us that kind of Supreme Court,.’’ The Liberty League paid a generous tribute of applause to the Almighty in recognition of His sound principles. The man introduced as Al Smith hurried on to compare the Constitution with the Bible and finished with a tribute to our National Anthem and our National Emblem. Everybody jumped up and cheered except Clara and myself. I had joined her in weeping. I wept because the Happy Warrior was dead. Among those present were Felix A. du Pont Jr. A. V. du Pont, Mrs. A. V. du Pont, Emile F. du Pont, Eugene E. du Pont, Henry B. du Pont, Mrs. H. B. du Pont, Renee du Pont. Mrs. Renee du Pont, Miss OcL-svia du Pont, Pierre S. du Pont and Mrs. Pierre S du Pont. (Copyright. 1936) New Dealers Upset by Fiscal Rumors BY RAYMOND CLAPPER WASHINGTON. Jan. 29.—Administration officials are annoyed at the rumors about further Treasury resignations and important changes in monetary policy. There never was a time when you could eat a meal in Washington without hearing a dozen rumors.

It isn’t the rumors that cause the trouble. The trouble comes when conditions are such as to enable rumors to take root and be seriously believed. For that reason the current persistent crop of rumors about the Administration fiscal policies is significant. It arises out of general uncertainty here. Since Roosevelt took office there has been no one in command at the Treasury who inspired the confidence of the business and financial world. Woodin. although a business

man. was in ,;uch poor health that the Treasury was run by a young lawyer who was recommended to the Administration as a gcod lawyer, but whose eminent sponsor was aghast when he learned that his protege was being made first mate of the Treasury in the midst of a grave banking crisis. m m m THEN Morgenthau was made Secretary, frankly admitting that he knew nothing about monetary matters. His technical advisers have come and gone in a steady procession—with constant instability in the Treasury organization. Now, at a time when the Federal Reserve Board is assuming greater powers over banking and credit than ever before, practically anew board is appointed. Roosevelt has cleaned out the last of the original members of the board, men who. despite their age. ought to be able to offer much needed wisdom in the delicate period which lies just ahead. Some of these men who are now being dismissed went through the turbulent period of the war and post-war financing and through the inflation which burst in 1929 and then on through the banking crisis of 1333. Yet their experience and knowledge are being thrown out of the window and a green crew is being hired. • If there is ore place in the government where stability, experience, informed judgment and sureness of touch is needed it is in the Treasury and the Federal Resen-e Board. If we had that perhaps the rumor mongers would not find such credulous listeners. mum POLITICAL parade: A1 Smith's threat of a walkout at the Democratic national convention may kill off the Administration plan to abolish the two-thirds rule at Philadelphia. Expecting there would be no opposition to Roosevelt, this was throught to be an ideal tima for burying the trick rule which has plagued so many Democratic conventions. But if there is going to be anv serious floor opposition to Roosevelt, the move may not be so advisable. Unless the Administration wants to invite a steam rojfcr charge. .

Forty-one years old and a King without a queen. Edward VIII is seen by his biographer. Frazier Hunt, as a man of contradictions—one who likes women, yet has b;en 100 busy to marry. In this second installment of “The Bachelor Prince Who Became King.” the tale of the many factors that have made him the "most interesting person alive,” Mr. Hunt gives another absorbing chapter of the most intimate, authentic life story of the present ruler ever written. (Copyright, 1936, by Frazier Hunt. Published by arrangement with Harper <fc Brothers). JT was on June 23, 1894, that King Edward VIII was born at “White Lodge,” nestling in the great trees of Richmond Park, a few miles distant from Windsor Castle. Queen Victoria was in the fifty-eighth year of her unprecedented reign. At this time she was an austere and rigid elderly sovereign of 75. Her eldest son—uncle of the rather willful 35-year-old German Emperor—had been Prince of Wales for 52 years. He would still have to wait six and a half years more

before he would become Edward VII. The son of this then Prince of Wales like the Kaiser, a grandson of the Queen —was known on this momentous June day, as the Duke of York. Sixteen years later he was to become George V of England. It was 10:30 in the morning on this bright June day in 1894 when a nurse hurried downstairs with the glad tidings. In the library the rather stout Edward, Prince of Wales, was talking earnestly with the brand new father, to help him bear up under the strain. Two days later the aged Queen Victoria herself drove from Windsor Castle; and 2.’ days after that —to keep our record correct the proud great - grandmother came again, this time to take charge of the royal christening. B B B THE blue-eyed baby, with light golden hair and a pair of husky lungs, sat in the motherly lap of the great Queen, while the gorgeously bedecked Archbishop of Canterbury, head of the state Church of England, sprinkled on his tow head water brought especially from River Jordan, and solemnly pronounced his name— Edward Albert Christian George Andrew Patrick David. Edward was for his grandfather; Albert for his great-grandfather, Victoria's Prince Consort—“ Albert the Good”; Christian for his Danish great-grandfather, the father of Edward’s wife: and George both for his own father and the English patron saint. They called him David —after the patron saint of Wales. The Queen would have put her foot down and insisted on the name Albert, after her own unforgettable sweetheart, dead lo these many years, but the little baby’s grandmother, later to be Queen Alexandra, was still mourning the recent death of her own son, Albert, Duke of Clarence. B B B AFTER the christening a pirture of the four generations was duly taken. (Is there not a widely distributed photograph of the distinguished Mrs. James Roosevelt, her son who did fairly well in the world, a tall grandson and baby Sisty? As I recall, it varies little either in text or purpose from this famous Victorian masterpiece.) Now George 111 is a name in American history to be conjured with. It is at least an interesting fact that this baby Prince was related to this famous monarch by direct blood strains through both his parents. Little David's great - grandmother on his father’s side was Queen Victoria, who was the daughter of Edward, Duke of Kent, who was the fourth son of George 111. David’s great-grandfather on his mother's side was Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge, and the sixth son of George 111. In other words two of his great-great-grandfa-thers were brothers, and both sons of the King who lost the American colonies. B B B BESIDES a good per cent of rich red or purple English blood, this baby David had a large infusion of German and a healthy dose of Scandinavian or Danish blood. From this last he inherited his blue e.’es and his tawny hair, and his insatiable love for the s^a. From her princely German consort, Victoria had learned austerity and the severest sort of discipline, in this business of managing a royal family there was in the eyes of the German Prince Consort no time for foolishness. It was royalty's place to be aloof, removed from the common touch. He believed quite honestly in the divine right of Kings—and he was powerful enough to implant! many of his ideas and theories in the youthful Queen. Legend has it that the little David was the only one of the many grandchildren and greatgrandchildren of the busy Queen —including the Crown Prince of Germany—who was ever able to penetrate her mask of t.loofness and austerity. For instance, she would never

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Clapper

Foil Leased Wire Service of the United Press Association

The BACHELOR PRINCE Who Became KING B B B B B a B B B B B B B B Edward VIII Was ‘Sardine and ‘Pragger- Wagger' to His Chums BY FRAZIER HUNT

BENNY

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The Indianapolis Times

permit the youngsters to kiss her cheek—only her hand. Not so the sly David. He would crawl into her ample lap and, throwing his arms around her neck, give her a big smack. Os course she loved it. B B B OUEEN VICTORIA was a master matchmaker. Little David had hardly turned 2 when the Czarina of Russia visited England, bringing along her daughter, the Grand Duchess Olga, then scarcely a year old. Tbddling about the nursery while the Queen looked on, Olga went down with a crash. Gallant little David rushed to her aid and kissed her. The eyes of the Queen twinkled. “What a sweet alliance,” she is reported to have said. This passing suggestion was the initial bit of royal intrigue to get the heir to the throne some day safely and wisely married. David was six and a half years old when his parents took him, with his brother Albert and sister Mary, on a hurried journey to Osborne, on the Isle of Wight. The great Queen Victoria was dying. And just as twilight was falling on the late afternoon of January 22. 1901, the strong and indomitable spirit gave in. The grandfather whom he loved so passionately the genial, thwarted and frustrated Edward —was now King. He was almost 60 years old. To his many fine qualities was adcied the gift of common sense. He knew what it was to be Prince of Wales—and grow old and tired and discouraged as Prince of Wales. He knew how much the severe discipline and Arthurian idea of royal prerogatives had cost him in the enjoyment of the ordinary things of life. And now King, with his own word at long last a law in the circle of the royal family, he was determined that his grandson, who some day would be Prince of Wales and then King of England, should be burdened with no such handicaps and conscious frustrations as had been imposed on him. B B tt THE way he unconsciously won the abiding love and respect of his little grandson is a very beautiful and memorable thing. David returned with interest this a/fection. There is one rather amusing story about a day when a seamstress, making dresses for little Princess Mary, came to the nursery of York Cottage at Sanringham. David insisted that she come right in. “Maybe I better wait, there may be someone in there,” she answered. “Come right along,” David insisted, “there’s no one in there besides us—except Grandpa.” It was this same casual “Grandpa” who was largely responsible for a piece of good fortune that was to have a profound effect on the whole life of his grandson. Approaching 7, it was decided that the first phase of his training was ended —the nursery and governess stage. It was time that he had a man tutor and his real education begin. The choosing of this mentor was a very delicate matter. The wrong tutor coming at this impressionable age might easily affect the future history of the world. B B FINALLY a choice was made and time has proven what a fortunate one it was. Master of a small private school at New Barnet was a tall, six-foot-three, rangy Oxford graduate by the name of H. P. Hansell. He had tutored Prince Arthur of Connaught, a nephew of Edward VII, and had done a good job. To his hands was entrusted the formidable task of making a Prince and a future King. For 12 years, until the day war was declared, this wise, tolerant and exceptional preceptor slowly opened the mind of his royal charge to the great world. He taught him to look straight through sham and pretense and find the truth. He taught him good sportsmanship and manliness. And most important of all, he taught him duty and service. There is no question but that Mr. Hansell had more influence on the Prince’s life than any single individual who touched it. A few weeks before David was 13 the young Prince was sent to

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29, 1936

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Always a dutiful son, King Edward VIII grew up tinder the watchful eye of his mother, the Dowager Queen Mary, to whom he is pictured clinging as a growing boy. He wears a dangling Scotch sporan, the influence of his subjects’ costumes.

the Naval Training School at Osborne, hard by the estate where three years before his greatgrandmother had died. B B B EXCEPT in book learniixg he had little training for the peculiar boy problems that he would be called upon to face in this hard and uncompromising training school at Osborne. He had had little contact with boys. At Sandringham House his tutor had organized a football team for him and his brother, from the boys of the great estate and the community. Besides football there had been some little cricket with young Eton boys, but by and large David had had no genuine contact with boys of his own age. He lived under exactly the same harsh and unbending discipline as all the other lads. He slept in a great, bare, unheated dormitory, jumped out of his cot at 6:30 when the bugle sounded, took his cold plunge and ate the same meager breakfast, and did all the drills, classroom studies and exercises. Besides, Mr. Hansell gave him special lessons and lectures. The first week at Osborne he was dubbed “the Sardine.” It was a contraction of “W(h)ales,” so he was told. Later he was to be called “Royalty,” “Eddie,” or “Pragger-Wagger.”

Washington Merry-Go-Round BY DREW PEARSON and ROBERT S. ALLEN

11l ASHINGTON, Jan. 29.—You won't find this ad in the Help Wanted columns, but it is the language President Roosevelt and Secretary Morgenthau are using mentally in looking for someone to fill the shoes of Undersecretary Thomas Jefferson Coolidge. The Bostonian's resignation is a serious blow to the New Deal. An able, experienced banker and bond expert with a high standing in financial circles, Coolidge’s departure leaves a bad hole in the Treasury. Morgenthau’s dilemma is to find a, banker who has the confidence of the financial world and at the same time is pro-New Deal. It is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Treasury wags suggest that young Henry put the Secret Service on the trail. What makes matters worse is

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Early in his youth King Edward VIII was made poignantly aware of the impressive place he held in English life when he was crowned Prince of Wales. He’s shown In his robes of medieval regal splendor worn in the ceremony.

He had not the slightest objection to any of these nicknames. What he wanted most of all was to be accepted by his mates as a regular. He was unquestionably happiest when he was just one of the gang. Part of the time he was to attain this enviable place. BUB TWO or three stories, now turned into legends, persist about these days at Osborne. One has to do with an out-of-bounds visit of a group of cadets, David among them, made to a nearby castle that was closed on Sunday. Denied entrance by the old gate-keeper, they finally persuaded David to announce that he was the son of the Piince of Wales. “Well, now isn’t that funny,” the old gate-keeper answered with a twinkle in. his eye. “Every time a group of you young rascals come here there’s always a different one who's the Prince.” And there is another story about the time when the Czar of Russia visited Osborne with David’s father, and the young Prince showed the Czar over the grounds. Finally David lured him over toward a sweetshop in the corner of the grounds where a group of his friends were in waiting, and “stuck” the Czar for a treat all the way round. Pocket money for cadets, David

that Coolidge is the third man who has quit this post because of disagreement with New Deal fiscal policies. As far back as last spring word leaked out that Coolidge was at odds with his chiefs and wanted to quit. Morgenthau urged him to stay and Coolidge yielded. But his views became increasingly critical. Climax came when the President vetoed Coolidge’s suggestion that the budget message contain a recommendation to stabilize the dollar. Instead, Roosevelt issued an executive order renewing for another year his power to raise or lower the value of the dollar. A few days laler Coolidge sent in his resignation. Morgenthau is looking for his new assistant in non-Wall Street quarters. He wants a banker unsullied by the big money marts

included, was limited to a shilling a week, and not even a future King could run up a charge account. B tt B AFTER two years at the naval preparatory school at Osborne, David entered the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth. He passed the regular examination in English, history, arithmetic, algebra, geometry, French or German, and Latin. This school could correspond somewhat with the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis, except that the course is three years instead of four and the cadets are four or five years younger. The graduates joined their ship as midshipmen and not ensigns, as in the United States Navy. Edward’s father plunked down the seventy-five pounds ($385) annual tuition fee, and as is the custom guaranteed that when he became an officer the Prince would have a private income of roughly two hundred pounds ($1000) a year, besides his pay. It is and has for generations been the way of the Royal Navy. TOMORROW: Little David becomes the Prince of Wales . . . he goes to sea to live the life of an ordinary midshipman ... his years at Oxford . . . war clouds darken the young life of Great Britain's future King.

of the East, hopes to find his man in the West or South. aaa First Lady and King IYIRS, ROOSEVELT is accustomed to having people brag about sitting next to her, but the other day she was the one to do the bragging. At her regular press conference she was asked: “Did you know King George V?” “No. But the Prince of Wales was here.” “Didn’t someone give a dinner for the Prince of Wales . . .?” Mrs. Roosevelt (interrupting): “At which I sat next to him.” “When did the President meet the King?” “He met the King during the war when he went over to the front in 1918.” “What did you talk about with the Prince of Wales?” “Good heavens! My gracious, that was 16 years ago.” (Copyright, 1936. by Unitd Fe.iture Syndicate, Inc.)

By J. Carver Pusey

Second Section

Entered as Second-Class Matter at I’nstnffice, Indianapolis. Ind.

Fair Enough non T ONDON. Jan. 29.—My visit to thp solemn scene of the lying in state of King Georgp was accomplished under special circumstances. Not to put too fair a face upon a strange and rather sordid experience, I was bootlegged into the British House of Commons and thence into the great silent vault of Westminster Hall where the King iay in his coffin attended by his magnificent life guards and beef-eaters, receiving the sad homage of his people.

With -gate crashing in its myriad forms I have been made familiar by years of attendance at public events. But this was one gate which seemed not only impregnable but unassailable. Yet it happened. Saturday evening with Floyd Gibbons, who is on his way home from Eritrea. I set out to see an enormous crowd of English people. about two miles long, inching toward the entrance to the hall. There had been intermittent rain all afternoon, and the men. women and children had been

taking it without the slightest impatience in a progress which required about three hours from Vauxhall Bridge to the coffin. It was a miserable night, with a milky fog hanging over Westminster and the river. At a point some distance down the long, silent file, a voice from the darkness of a doorway said: “I can arrange to put you right into the hall for His Majesty’s lying in state without delay, sir. if you would care to pay eight shillings. It will take three hours otherwise and its a nawsty night, sir.” tt tt B The Invitation Is Unexpected \TOW it had not been our intention to attend the lying in state at all. Nevertheless we had to pause and inquire into a proposal which came so strangely to the ear in a land where the incorruptibility of all official services is often mentioned in sharp contrast to official morality in the United States. “If you will be back here in one hour, sir. I can put you right in for eight bob, that’s $2 each,” our friend in the doorway continued. He was tall and scrawny and sallow, with greasy hair brushing the greasy collar of his soiled raincoat. “How are you going to do it?” I asked, and our Sam Weller remarked with a sly squint that there are always ways of getting things done. “But these people standing in line, wouldn't they object?” Sam Weller laughed and said not likely. They were British and used to standing in line while special privilege walked in ahead. One hour later two strangers found themselves in the courtyard of the House of Commons. There had been only a slight question of identity at the entrance. We took this man to be a member of Parliament, but he offered no hindrance, and we entered the building to discover ourselves abruptly facing through a glass door the scene of the King’s lying in state. At this instant the captain of the life guards slowly appeared on a half-stair from the guard room, followed by four life guards to relieve the four who stood motionless at the corners of the coffin. B B tt IPs a Permanent Record QLOWLY the retiring guards raised their heads and swords in unison and sheathed their blades as the new men drew their weapons and stood to attention. The retiring guards stepped down and marched away. At the head of a small stair we turned and found ourselves in line among English people who had walked two miles by inches in the rain. Well, it wasn't cricket. But we were no more outlanders than Carol of Rumania or the nephew of Zog of Albania, and moreover we hadn’t set out to crash the gate, and finally, it had been done strictly in the interests of knowledge, after all. Sam Weller waited at the exit and we paid him 16 shillings. He has promised balcony places at $lO each from which to view the funeral procession and insists that when the mourning is over he can crash us into garden parties, balls and receptions. I am inclined to believe him, for his record is 100 per cent to date.

Geri. Johnson Says—

NEW YORK, Jan. 29.—The Liberty League dinner was a vicious potlatch of savage reaction. I think I saw the Liberty League begin. It was while NIRA was being written. A delegation of big business men appeared. It was headed by Lamont du Pont. It said it was in favor of NRA—all but the labor provisions. No talk of unconstitutionality—no opposition to codes. They asked to have the bill written to encourage company unions. Congress refused. Prom that moment the Lamont du Pont movement against the whole New Deal started. It has not ceased. It became the Liberty League. The truly startling aspect of the league dinner is that it was all attack. Listening millions of sufferers from depression got not one word of comfort. Nothing New' Dealers ever said about Old Tories is one-tenth so eloquent as that. It was the most reactionary incident in our political history. Now the bulk of this country is neither radical nor reactionary. It is sanely liberal. Those speeches may encourage the die-hards, but they w-ere just not smart. They will make hundreds of thousands of votes —{or Roosevelt. m u a MUCH of the criticism was justified. But much was not and some was downright falsehood. Nobody can doubt the sincerity, liberality, and high purpose of A1 Smith, but a good many people doubt the sincerity of some company he keeps. To criticise the New Deal, it isn't necessary first to get in bed with the most anti-social group in America. This column has criticised the departures of the New Deal from the Chicago platform—but on personal responsibility as a dissenting Democrat, not as spokesman for a pledged Old Guard of extreme reaction, and always with constructive suggestions. Why hold that dinner in Washington and brag about “diners from 48 states”? Why not invite only the ganger-uppers who are the league and hold it in lower Manhattan where the league belongs? Stage properties—and so was Al. They just capitalized on the bitter and justified resentment of a great man. (EDITOR'S NOTE: "Potlatch—a ceremonial firing of fitts among the Indians of the northwest coast of America . . .; also, a festiral at which inch gifts are giren. The folk-ways require that an offered gift be accepted and that a larger gift be giren in return. The potlatch is thus an instrument of malice, used to imporerish a disliked person . • .”—The Columbia Encyclopedia.) (Copyright, 1935, by United Feature Syndicate, Inc.)

Literary Notes

LIBERTY MAGAZINE soon will have an amateur page edited by the greatest of amateur directors, Maj. Edward F. Bowes. Maj. Bowes will consider unpublished material, whether it be poetry, comic cartoons. caricatures or short stories with a 500-word maximum. Prizes will be awarded to the writers and artists who are voted the best by the readers of the magasrines,

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Westbrook Pegler