In punishment of this insubordination, General von Kluck ordered the guns on East Rock to destroy the Hotel Taft and the new Post Office Building, and this was done as the sun was setting. He also ordered that two of the hostages, chosen by lot, should be led out before Vanderbilt Hall, at the corner of College and Chapel streets, the next day at noon, and shot.
However, this grim fate was averted through the intercession of an American woman, a white-haired lady whose husband, a Northern general, had fought with Count Zeppelin in the American Civil War, and who at midnight went to the Whitney mansion, where the Count and his staff were quartered, and begged on her knees for mercy. And, for the sake of old times and old friendship, Count Zeppelin had this penalty remitted.
CHAPTER VIII. — I HAVE A FRIENDLY TALK WITH THE GERMAN CROWN PRINCE AND SECURE A SENSATIONAL INTERVIEW
After the pacification of New Haven and the re-establishment of its industries, our division of the German army, numbering about five thousand men, swung to the north, through Wallingford, Meriden, and Middletown, and marched toward the capital of the State.
I shall always remember the morning of June 17, 1921, when, at the request of the Crown Prince, I rode at his side for an hour before we entered Hartford. I was amazed at the extent of the Prince’s information and at his keen desire for new knowledge. He asked about the number of men employed in the Hartford rubber works, in Colt’s armory, in the Pratt & Whitney machine-shops, and spoke of plans for increasing the efficiency of these concerns. He knew all about the high educational standards of the Hartford High School. He had heard of the Hotel Heublein, and of the steel tower built by its proprietor on the highest point of Talcott Mountain—had already arranged to have this tower used for wireless communication between Hartford and the German fleet. He knew exactly how many Germans, Italians, and Swedes there were in Hartford, exactly how many spans there were in the new three-million-dollar bridge across the Connecticut. He looked forward with pleasure to occupying as his Hartford headquarters the former home on Farmington Avenue of Mark Twain, whose works he had enjoyed for years.
“You know Mark Twain was a great friend of my father’s,” said the Crown Prince. “I remember how my father laughed, one evening at the palace in Berlin, when Mark Twain told us the story of ‘The Jumping Frog of Calaveras County.’ It’s rather a pity that afterward Mark—but never mind that.”
“Your Imperial Highness has a wonderful memory for details,” I remarked.
“That is nothing,” he smiled. “It’s our business to know these things; that is why we are here. We must know more about New England than the New Englanders themselves. For example, ask me something.”