CHAPTER XXVI
RIOTS IN CHICAGO AND GERMAN PLOT TO RESCUE THE CROWN PRINCE
The first weeks of January, 1922, brought increasing difficulties andperplexities for the German forces of occupation in America. Withcomparative ease the enemy had conquered our Atlantic seaboard, but nowthey faced the harder problem of holding it against a large andintelligent and totally unreconciled population. What was to be done withten million people who, having been deprived of their arms, their citiesand their liberties, had kept their hatred?
The Germans had suffered heavy losses. The disaster to von Hindenburg'sarmy in the battle of the Susquehanna had cost them over a hundredthousand men. The revolt of Boston, the massacre of Richmond, hadweakened the Teuton prestige and had set American patriotism boiling,seething, from Maine to Texas, from Long Island to the Golden Gate. Therewere rumours of strange plots and counter-plots, also of a new great armyof invasion that was about to set sail from Kiel. Evidently the Germansmust have more men if they were to ride safely on this furious Americanavalanche that they had set in motion, if they were to tame the fieryAmerican volcano that was smouldering beneath them.
In this connection I must speak of the famous woman's plot that resultedin the death of several hundred German officers and soldiers and thatwould have caused the death of thousands but for unforeseen developments.This plot was originated by women leaders of the militant suffrage partyin New York and Pennsylvania (the faction led by Mrs. O. H. P. Belmontnot approving) and soon grew to nation-wide importance with an enrolledbody of twenty thousand militant young women, each one of whom waspledged to accomplish the destruction of one of the enemy on a certainSaturday night between the hours of sunset and sunrise.
By a miracle these women kept their vow of secrecy until the fatalevening, but at eight o'clock the plot was revealed to Germans inPhiladelphia through the confession of a young Quakeress who, afterplaying her part for weeks, had fallen genuinely in love with a Prussianlieutenant and simply could not bring herself to kill him when the timecame.
I come now to a sensational happening that I witnessed in Chicago, towhich city I had journeyed after the Richmond affair for very personalreasons. If this were a romance and not a plain recital of facts I shoulddwell upon my meeting with Mary Ryerson and our mutual joy in eachfinding that the other had escaped unharmed from the perils of our recentadventures.
Miss Ryerson, it appeared, after the discovery of her daring disguise hadbeen released on parole by order of General Langthorne, who believed herstory that she had taken this desperate chance as the only means ofsaving Thomas A. Edison. Mary had heard the story of her brother's heroicdeath and to still her grief, had thrown herself into work for the RedCross fund under Miss Boardman and Mrs. C.C. Rumsey. She had hit upon acharming way of raising money by having little girls dressed in whitewith American flags for sashes, lead white lambs through the streets, thelambs bearing Red Cross contribution boxes on their backs. By this meansthousands of dollars had been secured.
On the evening following my arrival in Chicago, I had arranged to takeMiss Ryerson to a great recruiting rally in the huge lake-frontauditorium building, but when I called at her boarding-house on WabashAvenue, I found her much disturbed over a strange warning that she hadjust received.
"Something terrible is going to happen tonight," she said. "There will beriots all over Chicago."
I asked how she knew this and she explained that a deaf and dumb mannamed Stephen, who took care of the furnace, a man in whose ratherpathetic case she had interested herself, had told her. It seems he alsotook care of the furnace in a neighbouring house which was occupied by aqueer German club, really a gathering place of German spies.
"He overheard things there and told me," she said seriously, whereupon Iburst out laughing.
"What? A deaf and dumb man?"
"You know what I mean. He reads the lips and I know the sign language."
The main point was that this furnace man had begged Miss Ryerson not toleave her boardinghouse until he returned. He had gone back to the Germanclub, where he hoped to get definite information of an impendingcatastrophe.
"It's some big coup they are planning for tonight," she said. "We mustwait here."
So we waited and presently, along Wabash Avenue, with crashing bands anda roar of angry voices, came an anti-militarist socialist parade withfloats and banners presenting fire-brand sentiments that called forthjeers and hisses from crowds along the sidewalks or again enthusiasticcheers from other crowds of contrary mind.
"You see, there's going to be trouble," trembled the girl, clutching myarm. "Read that!"
A huge float was rolling past bearing this pledge in great red letters:
"I refuse to kill your father. I refuse to slay your mother's son. Irefuse to plunge a bayonet into the breast of your sweetheart's brother.I refuse to assassinate you and then hide my stained fists in the foldsof any flag. I refuse to be flattered into hell's nightmare by a class ofwell-fed snobs, crooks and cowards who despise our class socially, robour class economically and betray our class politically."
At this the hostile crowds roared their approval and disapproval. Also atanother float that paraded these words:
"What is war? For working-class wives--heartache. For working-classmothers--loneliness. For working-class children--orphanage. Forpeace--defeat. For death--a harvest. For nations--debts. Forbankers--bonds, interest. For preachers on both sides--ferocious prayersfor victory. For big manufacturers--business profits. For 'Thou ShaltNot Kill'--boisterous laughter. For Christ--contempt."
I saw that my companion was deeply moved.
"It's all true, what they say, isn't it?" she murmured.
"Yes, it's true, but--we can't change the world, we can't give up ourcountry, our independence. Hello!"
A white-faced man had rushed into the parlour, gesticulating violentlyand making distressing guttural sounds. It was Stephen.
Uncomprehending, I watched his swift signs.
"What is it? What is he trying to say?"
"Wait!"
Her hands flew in eager questions and the man answered her.
"Oh!" she cried. "The riots are a blind to draw away the police and thetroops. They're marching against the Blackstone Hotel now--a thousandGerman spies--with rifles."
The Blackstone Hotel! I realised in a moment what that meant. The GermanCrown Prince was still a prisoner at the Blackstone, in charge of GeneralLanghorne. It was a serious handicap to the enemy that we held in ourpower the heir to the German throne. They dared not resort to reprisalsagainst America lest Frederick William suffer.
"They mean to rescue the Crown Prince?"
"Yes."
I rushed to the telephone to call up police headquarters, but the wireswere dead--German spies had seen to that.
"Come!" I said, seizing her arm. "We must hustle over to the auditorium."
Fortunately the great recruiting hall was only a few blocks distant andas we hurried there Miss Ryerson explained that the furnace man, Stephen,before coming to us, had run to McCormick College, the Chicago home fordeaf students, and given the alarm.
"What good will that do?"
"What good! These McCormick boys have military drill. They are splendidshots. Stephen says fifty of them will hold the Germans until our troopsget there."
"I hope so."
I need not detail our experiences in the enormous and rather disorderlycrowd that packed the auditorium building except to say that ten minuteslater we left there followed by eighty members of the Camp Fire Club(they had organised this appeal for recruits), formidable hunters of biggame who came on the run carrying the high power rifles that they hadused against elephants and tigers in India and against moose andgrizzlies in this country. Among them were Ernest Thompson Seton, DanBeard, Edward Seymour, Belmore Brown, Edward H. Litchfield and his son,Herbert.
Under the command of their president, George D. Pratt, these splendidshots proceeded with all speed to the Blackstone Hotel, where they founda
company of deaf riflemen, under the command of J. Frederick Meagher,about seventy in all, guarding the doors and windows. Not a moment toosoon did they arrive for, as they entered the hotel, hoarse cries wereheard outside and presently a bomb exploded at the main entrance,shattering the heavy doors and killing nine of the defenders, includingMelvin Davidson, Jack Seipp and John Clarke, the Blackfoot Indian, famousfor his wood carvings and his unerring marksmanship.
Meantime messengers had been sent in all directions, through the riotingcity, calling for troops and police and in twenty minutes, with thearrival of strong reinforcements, the danger passed.
But those twenty minutes! Again and again the Germans came forward infurious assaults with rifles and machine guns. The Crown Prince must berescued. At any cost he must be rescued.
No! The Crown Prince was not rescued. The defenders of the HotelBlackstone had their way, a hundred and fifty against a thousand, butthey paid the price. Before help came forty members of the Camp Fire Cluband fifty of those brave deaf American students gave up their lives, asis recorded on a bronze tablet in the hotel corridor that bears witnessto their heroism.
I must now make my last contribution to this chapter of our history,which has to do with motives that presently influenced the Crown Princetowards a startling decision. I came into possession of this knowledge asa consequence of the part I played in rescuing Thomas A. Edison after hisabduction by the Germans.
One of the first questions Mr. Edison asked me as we escaped in a swiftautomobile from the burning and shell-wrecked Virginia capital, had adirect bearing on the ending of the war.
"Mr. Langston," he asked, "did the Committee of Twenty-one receive mywireless about the airship expedition?"
"Yes, sir, they got it," I replied, and then explained the line ofreasoning that had led the Committee to, disregard Mr. Edison's warning.
"MY FRIENDS, THEY SAY PATRIOTISM IS DEAD IN THIS LAND.THEY SAY WE ARE EATEN UP WITH LOVE OF HONEY, TAINTED WITH A YELLOW STREAKTHAT MAKES US AFRAID TO FIGHT. IT'S A LIE! I AM SIXTY YEARS OLD, BUT I'LLFIGHT IN THE TRENCHES WITH MY FOUR SONS BESIDE ME. AND YOU MEN WILL DOTHE SAME. AM I RIGHT?"]
He listened, frowning.
"Huh! That sounds like Elihu Root."
"It was," I admitted.
For hours as we rushed along, my distinguished companion sat silent and Idid not venture to break in upon his meditations, although there werequestions that I longed to ask him. I wondered if it was Widding's suddendeath in the Richmond prison that had saddened him.
It was not until late that afternoon, when we were far back in the BlueRidge Mountains, that Mr. Edison's face cleared and he spoke with somefreedom of his plans for helping the military situation.
"There's one thing that troubles me," he reflected as we finished anexcellent meal at the Allegheny Hotel in Staunton, Virginia. "I wonderif--let's see! You have met the Crown Prince, you interviewed him, didn'tyou?"
"Twice," said I.
"Is he intelligent--_really _intelligent? A big open-minded man or--is heonly a prince?"
"He's more than a prince," I said, "he's brilliant, but--I don't know howopen-minded he is."
Edison drummed nervously on the table.
"If we were only dealing with a Bismarck or a von Moltke! Anyhow, unlesshe's absolutely narrow and obstinate--"
"Oh, no."
"Good! Where are the Committee of Twenty-one? In Chicago?"
"Yes."
"And the Crown Prince too?"
"Yes."
"We'll be there to-morrow and--listen! We can destroy the German fleet.Widding's invention will do it. Poor Widding! It broke his heart to seeAmerica conquered when he knew that he could save the nation if somebodywould only listen to him. But nobody would." Edison's deep eyes burnedwith anger. "Thank God, I listened."
It seemed like presumption to question Mr. Edison's statement, yet Iventured to remind him that several distinguished scientists had declaredthat the airship _America_ could not fail to destroy the German fleet.
"Pooh!" he answered. "I said the _America_ expedition would fail. Theradio-control of torpedoes is uncertain at the best because ofdifficulties in following the guide lights. They may be miles away, shutoff by fog or waves; but this thing of Widding's is sure."
"Has it been tried?"
"Heavens! No! If it had been tried the whole world would be using it.After we destroy the German fleet the whole world will use it."
"Is it some new principle? Some unknown agency?"
He shook his head. "There's nothing new about it. It's just a sure way tomake an ordinary Whitehead torpedo hit a battleship."
Although I was consumed with curiosity I did not press for details atthis time and my companion presently relapsed into one of his longsilences.
We reached Chicago the next afternoon and, as the great inventor left meto lay his plans before the Committee of Twenty-one, he thanked meearnestly for what I had done and asked if he could serve me in any way.
"I suppose you know what I would like?" I laughed.
He smiled encouragingly.
"Still game? Well, Mr. Langston, if the Committee approves my plan, and Ithink they will, you can get ready for another big experience. Take acomfortable room at the University Club and wait."
Conquest of America: A Romance of Disaster and Victory, U.S.A., 1921 A.D. Page 29