Jasper Weekly Courier, Volume 49, Number 21, Jasper, Dubois County, 1 February 1907 — Page 7

LOS ANGELES MAN CLAIMS RIGHT TO THRONE OF POLAND

Col John Sobieski, Once Soldiet of Fortune, Direct Descendant of Thaddeus of Warsaw.

SAYS INFANT GRANDSON IS ROYAL HEIR

Interesting Predicament of a California Youngster and the Romantic Life Story of His Grandfather Driven from Austria by Maximilian, He Lived to Command Firing Party That Ended the Career of His Cne Time Persecutor,

Many of the young officers under whom he served on that expedition afterward became famous In the civil war Gen. Albert Sidney Johnston, then a colonel; Capt. Hancock, afterward the northern general; Col. Alexander, who became Lee'a chief of staff; Pita John Porter, Maj. Reauregard. Capt. J. Ii. Magruder, afterward a southern general, was commander of young Sobieskl's battery. Witnessed Stirring Scents. When the war was getting ready to break, young Sobleskl's battery was ordered recruited to its full strength and the young Pole was ordered to New York and Washington on recruiting duty, witnessing the Inauguration of Lincoln, the closing debates In the aenate and many other stirring Bcenes. He went all through the civil war and was terribly wounded the first day of the battle of Gettysburg. It was his privilege to be an eyewitness to the most dramatic battle in naval

history, the first fight of the Ironclads, j of adventure, Col. Sobieski is a calm,

the fight between the Merrlmac and ' handsome, gentle old man the soul the Monitor. j of courtesy. Aside from his bitterAfter the war he went into Mexico ' ness against monarchies whose tyranand began another fight for a people's J nies have brought him such misery, freedom. He lived the hunted life of ; he has other reasons for not caring

one oi tue unug party, uirecuug Unu to take good aim. "The :irlag party was now ordered to advance, maku ready, aim, fire! Strang as it may seem, Maximilian fell mortally wounded, only, exclaiming as ho fell: oh. my God! my God!' At ouce the commander of the reserve tiring party (Sobieski himself) ordered one of the men from his own party to advance, and drawing bis own tevolver, ordered the soldier to put It to the ear of the archduke and fire. He did so, and the career of the archduke was ended." Col. Sobieskl's long subsequent career as lawyer and temperance lecturer Is well kuown. He had one son who would have perpetuated the name but ho died while a young child. His one daughter married Mr. Unhausen, of Los Angeles. To them a little son has lately been born. Sees End of All Thrones. So the last of the Sobieskls Is a Unhausen. After this long and exciting career

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L09 Angeles, Cal. Sucking his bare pink toes and calling aloud for the royal nursing bottle, the rightful fu ture king of Poland lies In his cradle in a cottage in the Weit Adams street district serenely unconscious of the fact that a battle of documents and family trees is raging over his crown and estates. Little does he care that a rude Chleap) editor has denied the claim that he Is the direct descendant of Thaddeus of Warsaw and heir to a vast confiscated estate not to mention the nattered Polish throne. Ills fond father Is L. S. Gllhausen, a clerk In the First National bank. Ills grandfather is Colonel John Sobieski, the well known temperance lecturer the last of the Illustrious line of John III. who rescued Europe from the Turks. From a life of quiet retirement, this grandfather and grandchild have burst suddenly Into national fame. Recently a Polish editor named Slemlradski came Into print in the Chicago Record-Herald denouncing Colonel Sobieski as an impostor, or practically that. He denies Colonel Sobieskl's claim to direct descent by the eldest son of tho-eldest-son route from King John HI., the adored national hero of Poland again not to mention the throne and the great estates. This editor with a name like a tree.' claims that the last genuine Sobieski died over a century and a half ago. He calls upon Sobieski of Los Angeles to bring forward bla i

lies there than ever to allow him to ascend any throne. Yes, my memories of monarchy are as bitter as that." His memories of monarchy cannot, inded, be very happy. This gentle old nobleman who HveB so quietly in Los Angeles saw his father led away to be slaughtered by Russian soldiers after long confinement in a prison so vile a dog could not have lived In it; saw his mother driven away from home almost a pauper; saw her driven like an outcast from country to country until she died an unhappy exile. No wonder his eye flash. The intricate question of his right to that noble ancestry will be considered below. The man's own life is so Interesting, so thrllllug and romantic that it rightly takes precedence over family trees Even his nearest neighbors In the pleasant neighborhood of West Adams street little dream that this sunny old gentleman his lived the wild life of a soldier of fortune. He commanded the reserve firing

a guerrilla warrior, eating rattlesnakes and living a precarious life off the country. He wat commissioned a colonel. He seemed to have a charmed life. He came through a hundred thrilling escapades unhurt once being the only man of an entire com mand to survive. After the imprisonment of Emperor Maximilian. Col. Sobieski became one of the Jailers of that Austrian potentate who had driven the two pitiful refugees Sohleski and his widowed young mother from Italy. He recalled that Incident to the emperor's mind one day In prison "Well, time rounds up all things." said the unhappy prisoner. Maximilian's Execution.

The old Polish nobleman tells of the tragic incident of history the execution of the emperor In simple soldier fashion. In writing an account of It for his biography he says:

"The last three or four days of Max-i John III

lmlllan's life were spent almost wholly with the priest. On the morning of the execution, June 19. 1867 a bright, beautiful morning he was taken out of the old convent where he wag captured and where he had lived during the time he was in our cus-

anything about the right to the empty throne to Poland. "liefore you are a middle-aged man " he Bald to the writer, "every throne in Europe will be swept away in a vast bloodless revolution." That is the startling theory of the last Sobieski. He 1b making a vigorous retort to Editor Slemlradski merely to defend his honor. Slemlradski claims that the.e Is not a mention In history of any Sobieski in recent times. He wants to know why no Sobieski came forward as a candidate for king at the election of King Stanislaus Augustus Ponlatowski in 1764 if the family still existed. He denies the execution of Sobieskl's father, saying that history has no mention of It, and points out that it would have made the nation thrill. He makes a great point of the fact that the Almanach de Gotha mkes no mention of any living descendants of

No Sobieski Dynasty. In reply, Col. Sobieski points out many places wherein the Polish editor contradicts himself; he then proceeds. "He (the editorl declares that the Almanach de Gotha has not got mo on

tody, and placed in an ambulance and the list. 1 could not presume under any driven outside of the walls of the city 1 circumstances to think that my name near an old fortress, where the execu- would appear in that distinguished ! tlon took place. manac, as it is a register exclusively "Arriving on the grounds, the troops , devoted to dynasties. I do not claim

peror Maximilian In Mexico. It was his

revolver that sent a shot crashing into the ear of the emperor after he had fallen wounded at the first unskilled volley. He was an eyewitness to the famous battle of the Monitor and Merrlmac; led a distinguished and sensational career In the regular army; took part In the famous expedition against the Mormons; was under fire 426 times during the civil war our own civil war, not Poland's. Lastly, ho became ft soldier of fortune In Mexico In the Mexican war for lndeiendence. Hit Remarkable Life. It was there that fate chose him as one of the firing party, where he wiped out an old score against an emperor, avenging the cruelty of his mother's banishment. Follows the briefest possible glance at his remarkable life: He was born In 1812 In Warsaw, be lng the sixth in line of descent from the great warrior monarch of Poland, John III His father was John Sobieski. who lost his life In 1848 In the great Polish rebellion. He says one of his earliest recollections of childhood Is of a sleighride and the gay trappings of a Cossack soldier who conveyed his mother and himself to say goodbye to his father about to be executed. His father had been captured by the Russian army and had been confined In a vile Russian prison, crawling with vermin, for 13 months. Before they were allowed to see the doomed husband and father, the young mother was taken before the Russian viceroy, who offered to allow her to retain her estates and honors if she would give up her son the last So bleski to be sent to the Russian capital and there brought up as a loyal subject of the Cxar. Banished by Maximilian. She proudly refused, and chose banishment, poverty and misery. She bade her husband good by. and ho was shot down he next day. At the same time her father and brother were killed. Evory where went the exiles, ora I a U... V, ..tkniltuu rll-l VÖT1

eepted the challenge. He has written "eree uul "" " ' " to the Chicago Record Herald and to j out of Austria. Prussia and Italy Hltor Slemlradski that he win be They were driven from Italy by the

Austrian viceroy. Maximilian .liter

party that executed the 111 fated Em- wpre formed in line, the doomed men to be of any Sobieski dynasty.

were placed in position, Maximilian "in the first place there was no 1

P" fs of descent. He suggests that hi documents and proofs be submltt"l to the Imperial Academy of Science at Cracow. He may be somewhat chagrined to Wrn that the paper containing his eefy has come into the hands of Colenei Sobieski, who has promptly ae-

WHAT HE VALUED MOST

By Ralph Henry Barbou:

"pyrlght. 1WW. by Joseph B. Bowlen

One afternoon she had heard movers in the hall, and knew that the fourth-floor studio had be a taken. The next morning unfamiliar sounds fell from above a man's voice, deep and musical, leaping up and down the cale, a cheerful, companionable torrent of melody that brought a responsive smile to her face. Next day she had learned his name. Seeki'jg letters from the pile la the lowe hall, she had found a colorman s catalogue addressed to "John Timson. Esq." She had smiled at the name; Tlmson was so unusual and attaint and funny! John she liked;

her father s name had been John. All

almost

You like it?" he asked,

eagerly. I love It! But" ahe sighed "how it makes one hate the city, doesn't It?" Hie eyes lighted "Yes; and we re going away from the city," he said, with a ring in his voice. "We're through work to-day. and we're going there! Uet your things on." That day was a day of days. Winter reigned kindly. They crossed the river, and spent the afternoon in the woods and along the edge of the marshes, returning long after the city was atlow They had dinner at

cafe, for when one has finished a ple

ner miner a uaiui- imu " - i f i the morning, as she worked at her ture that Is to bring fame and wealth.

cormer bowls and candlesticks, she

strove to picture a personality befitting the name of J ihn Tlmson. A week later she suw him. After that they bowed, and then spoke Meetings oecame frequent. Aside from the little weazened dealer In old ivories and curl osltles on the first floor, they were the only occupants of the house who made it their home. That served as a bond of sympathy, and they soon discovered others. They were both orphans, and both without near re'a tives; they were both struggling for recognition he as a painter of land scapes in oils, she as a worker In metals And then there were minor sympathies born of similar tastes and views which came to light in the first

economy is a sinful thing. Hack In

her Btudlo they talked until late. The windows were gray with the cold dawn when he awoke suddenly, and stared about him. In a moment he was out of bed and had thrown open the hall door. Smoke, thick and stifling, drifted In. At the bottom of the staircase-well orange light danced and glowed. Throwing his clothes on. I..- iffted the picture from the easel, and staggered with it down the first flight The smoke made him choke and gasp. The next flight waa miles long. At the bottom he dropped tha picture, and as it toppled against the baluster he leaped to Betb's door and knocked loudly. "Who Is there?" came the question at once. "It Is Mr. Timson. The house Is on

fire. There's no danger, of course,

Veur o f their friendship

a , a .1 . .i Inln

It became nis cusiom n u,i ,, ii uo.mr bul vou mu8t come quickly.

Her room ior a duukui ,. . . " ; . ,, thn in th "Yes. she answered, faintly, up and down stairs, and then in tue JTT'T ZTT , ul evenings tor long enjoyable talks. burled his face in his elbow, evenings nr la- " ' . . leaning against the wall. Once he while he sat in her one easy-enatr 7 , . , , , , 0u0 .rb(i w.v it 'rlPd impetuously toward the picml urruiki'i and she wot ken .iwny mi - .

i ture. onlv to turn oacK. me cracs

an oraer in uiu m ..-..... -r-

standing on the right of the firing Sobieski dynasty. The definition of

r Slemlradski that lie win De

plensed to h ave the (jtiestlon to the institution of loarnlng named in the tfy if It can be shown that it is a Diversity of national inuortance and standi! in Poland. Colonel Sobieski confesses that he has never heard

ef it

ward the emperor of Mexico. They tool reluge In England at last. The mother died and the son was adopted into the family of a Polish professor, who had been an instructor at the

United States naval academy at An

. . , A - J

party. The tiring party consooeu m 36 men. formed Into two companies,

It tr euch of the doomed men. (Two

dvnastv is a family of kings Poland

in he days of John III. was an aristo

cratic republic and elective monarchy.

traitorous generals were executed at There is a tradition that, comes down,

the same time.) , nowever. ui wnen tue e.u "One In each firing parly of six had tern was abolished by the new constla blank cartridge. There had been a tutlon In 1791 it was the general

sharp rivalry for the honor of belong , unaersianuing mat me wuiiw ing to the firing party. I was selected Hy was to be the royal family. The

nnnnlU When the 1 n N il States It is only for my honor that I am : n'"'" r,!i the cs-

dets used to visit their old profe-sor

"paring these documents, enei Sobieski to the writer

said Col

He Wants No Throne. "There It no throne In Poland. If there were one and it were offered to , I give you ray word I should re fuse It." The eyes of the old nobleman flashed es added: Rather would I go to the cradle od strangle that little baby as he

r nf them nersnaded Sobieski to

VtlU WW - - - - stow away in the old frigate Constellation and come to America Me was then only a little fellow 12 years old. hut managed to en IM In the United States army as a bugler 111 etilnt'd in 186r. and two years afterward was ordered out with the troops that went the desperate Jour ney across the plslnn to fight the Mormons

constitution was only preventetd from

going into force by the conquest of Poland." Col. Sobieski denies that the Sobieskls disappeared from Polish history-; he says they were in every fight for Polish liberty.

"Regarding the charge that the ex ecutlon of a 8obleaki (his father) u i ,ii m Am m thrill hml ll rnallv

. ... ii l ik. mmm WOUIil HHe UJU'

sneuiling nis moon wo,,,,, . ., h "Nicholas I had of bringing peace and happiness o H !Zly effect! method of distracted emintry he was wining to man).

lie. He asked that the conimsnue. ----- ,.

Iii1 I' 'II ui ut. Col. Sobieski has Instructed hit

to confer wltn tne.

tn command the reserve firing party

When everything was ready each of the men was asked if he hd any thing to say. Fate Qiwee Deferred Revenge. Mailmillan. speaking In IpMtsa sold In substance that he loe,l Mei Ico and desired its welfare, and If

the firing party advance to him. and

hi, ilollvi.red to that officer six pieces

. v..w waiunt m shout Chicago attorney

LT lsT ' o ' c r mone, He of , Poil.h editor regard,, the submission

I a piece of gold to be delivered to fft I the case to Cracow uxuvers.t7.

week he descended ceremoniously.

immaculately clean, but diffusing a strong odor of paint, and took lunch with her. gravely marveling at the display and pretended alarm at her recklessness. Once he had returned her hospitality he had sold a small canvas and they had dined sumptuously at one end of the paint stained table on lobster cutlets and French ioas and as paragus, sent in chilled, but appetizing, from the cafe across the square. Ami he had made marvelous coffee

in an old copper kettle, and had produced a bottle of olives, which, he sol eninly declared, had been two years awaiting the occasion. I'sually he called for her at the Institute in Brooklyn-she still at tended an evening class three times a week -and brought her home Once they had walked back across the bridge on a brisk winter night, the white stars above them, the purple lamps advancing and meeting them along their path, and the lemon and red and green lanterns twinkling up from boats and pierheads. Tlint nlpM she had heard his story. He had told her of s boyhood spent In a litfe town In western Missouri, f I, in first dim dissatisfaction with

his lot and his growing hatred for

toil in his father's squalid general store:-' how at his father's death his mother he had never known he had gone to St. Ixiuls. where he had clerked by day and studied art by night, until, with $2.00(1 saved, he had coin.- to New York and enteied the league. He had spent three years there, and then had burled himself in Hie Jersey woods, living like a hermit, in a hut of his own building, and painting from dawn to dusk, fair days and foul. "And now." he had ended, "they're beginning to know me. I've sold a few canvases, mostly through Ruy ter. Ruyter believes in me. The thing I ni working on now Is for the academy. It's going to take a year; but It" good. It's the best I have In tne and It's going to Im hung." "Oh, I do so hope so!" she had said, arnestly. "I've never doubted It." he had an swered. simply. "It's a big stake, but I'm going to win!" And so thnt firRt year had passed, and the second of their friendship was throe months old. One afternoon the morrow was the last day for receiving canvases at thtacadomy he entered her rnom. and sank silently Into his accustomed chair She looked up questloningly from the silver buckle on which she was working. "Finished." he said, gloomily "Does It go to-day?" "To-morrow ; it Isn t quite dry ye:. I suppose I ought to be glad, but" he smiled forlornly "I only feel rather lonesome " He filled and lighted his pipe. "Do you care to see it ugaln?" "Oh. yes," she answered, eagerly I'ptitairs he drew aside the yellowish cloth, and laid bare the canvas on w hich he had toiled for almost a year. It was large, six feet by four, and undoubtedly an ambitious effort for what might he called a first picture, yet the result was so splendid that the artist's faith In its success seemed Justified He had called It "August" a wide, farreachlng expanse of Kail-marsh ribboned with blue, breeze ruffled ws ter; along the horizon a dim pnrple haze, a suggestion but no more of the city; against the rlear sky great

white thunder c. iuds rolle! high uhuj the night

ach other In maJesMc grandeur 'Its sjhKkvis!" she whl.-pered Qos'ty.

ling of the flames drowned now even the noise at the door. Then Beth stood before him. white-faced, anxious- ' rj (). hut unafraid. "Down the stairs, quick"' he cried. "Iii follow you." "You mustn't stay!" she cried, fearfully "The picture." be answered. "Go, please '" He seized his burden again, and staggered down the hall, gasping and lurching. There he found her

He Seized His Burden Again. crouching on the top step. He put the picture aside, and caught ber Id his arms. "Hide your face." he said She struggled, sobbldg "No, no! Let me go! You mustn't leave It!" TB come back for It," he answered, quietly. "Courage, little girl; it's Just for a minute." Then he plunged down the stairs, past writhing tongues of flame. Setting Heth upon her feet, he led her across the street. On the stoop he turne. "I must go back," he said, gently. "I won't be long." She waited and watched, fearful and wretched for his sake. Presently he returned empty handed "It was no use." he explained. "The halls are in flames." "Oh." the moaned. "I wish you had never seen me. It's gone all your work and hope!" She glanced up miserably, to find his grave eyes smiling. "Hush, hush," he whispered, tenderly "1 ve saved what I valued most. dear." The color flared Into her white face and she swayed dizzily until his arm went out and drew her to him "Heth.'' he whispered. She raised her eyes slowly n his. They looked, he thought, likw pale dew wet violets He bent his face, her lidR Muttered down, and their lips met i.ittl girl," he said, presently, "we're pretty well cleaned out. you and I. aren't we?" "Yes." she answered, softly. "It wouldn't matter. If only yo could have saved the picture,' she Raid, dolefully. Never mind the picture." he respited, steadily. "Ml do It again, and better.' Then he whispered: "look." Above the sleeping city, toward the east, a faint rose flush was dispelllna the dawns gray gloom

A new day out of the embers ot

she said, softly.

He bent aRain and kissed her "And for us. dear, a new life out of ihm asbes of the old."