Son of the Kaiser ! ...Really?

By Lillian M. Henry

"Son of the Kaiser!...Really? " brings the reader into the life of a Saxon family of immigrants as they flee the disruption of their lives by the Industrial Revolution and the attempts by the Germanic princes to create a unified country from their various States. Arriving in Baltimore in 1883 their young son Paul is thrust into a land where he learns that life is what you make of it. And make of it he does! It's a long, often bumpy ride and the plucky little German finds himself caught up in a whirlwind of conflicting ideas about health, exercise, food, and sex. His surprising revelation made to his daughters in his final years fuels the plot and begs the question.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481725484

Lillian M. Henry

Continuing her exploration of the family past, Lillian M. Henry is following this account with a more recent tale of life along the Saint Lawrence River before the construction of the Seaway. Her husband’s grandfather was a lake boat sailor during the days when the river was navigable only duing the summer and a lumberman during the winter months on the American-Canadian border. Lillian and her husband now reside year-round in Florida. Their family of five children and ten grandchildren has recently welcomed three grandsons-in-law. Her next book will be titled Lizzy, the Lakers and the Lumbermen A story of the North Country. Lizzy was Elizabeth Foster Burns, grandmother of Mrs. Henry’s husband.

Book preview

Son of the Kaiser! …

REALLY?

Lillian M. Henry

(This story is fiction loosely based on known facts.

All characters real or imagined are used fictitiously)

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2013 Lillian M. Henry. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 3/20/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2550-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2549-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2548-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013904199

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Author’s Note

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Part One

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Interlude

Part Two

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Interlude

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Part Three

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Part Four

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Interlude

Chapter Six

Part Five

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Interlude

Part Six

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Part Seven

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Part Seven

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Epilogue

AUTHOR’S NOTE

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The following story is fiction based on an off-hand comment my grandfather make not too long before he died. I thought it would be fun to speculate on the possibility that the statement was true. Weaving together the bits and pieces of his life that I do know a little about with a great deal of literary license I offer this as an exercise in fabrication. Wouldn’t it be fun to know whether or not he would approve? As it is I can only say, Grandpa, I hardly knew ye.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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Thank you, thank you, thank you,

to

my faithful collaborator and research assistant, Jean;

to

my sharp-eyed proofreader and cheerleader, Kit;

to

my dear friend and source of excellent advice, Margaret;

to

my granddaughter, Mary Beth for her marvelous cover illustration

and

of course

to

my patient and supportive husband, Dave.

Special thanks to

Mark Adams for his biography of Bernarr Macfadden,

Mr America published 2010

and Fulton Oursler’s account of the life of his friend and employer

"The True Story of Bernarr Macfadden published 1935.

My grandfather was employed by Mr. Macfadden and without those books I would have had very little story to tell.

All characters in this book are fictionalized. Truth is presented where it is known. A great deal of imagination provides the rest of the story.

Front cover illustration by

Mary Elizabeth Henry

PROLOGUE

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Deland, Florida

Late summer, 1972

The old man grinned broadly, exposing his yellowed teeth. His dark eyes gleamed with merriment at what he was about to say. His daughters watched and waited. They’d made the hurried trip to Florida at the request of the manager of the hotel residence where their father had lived for many years. That courteous, but insistent gentleman had claimed he could no longer be responsible for Mr. Winkler’s safety.

He’s taken to wandering off, ma’am, the softly slurred southern voice had explained over the crackle of the phone, It’s several times now that someone has had to bring him back. Fortunately the neighborhood restaurant people know where he belongs.

Pauline and Gloria arrived, three days later, hot and tired, in no mood to be berated for Paul Charles Winkler’s idiosyncrasies. The urbane middle-aged manager had greeted them, conducted them to his office, offered them cold drinks and smiled ruefully before beginning his report.

Apparently while on his daily walk your father is in the habit of entering one or another of our nearby eating establishments. I hear he takes a seat and orders coffee, then asks to be shown to the kitchen where he chastises the cooks for some discrepancy or other — the cup is dirty or the coffee is cold…he seems to think he is the man in charge. In most cases the staff will humor him but lately he has become too loud and a bit of a bother. They’ve had to encourage him to leave on a number of occasions. Unfortunately, I’m sorry to have to say, once out on the street the old gentleman appears to forget how to get back here. Forgive me, but I must tell you that when this occurs Mr. Winkler more often than not demonstrates some considerable degree of agitation and becomes belligerent.

He’d paused, noticing the women exchange a long suffering glance. The setting sun seen through the curtained window of the small room cast long shadows across the well-worn furnishings. He’d been manager here for many years now and felt he’d seen it all. The elderly population presented him with an on-going variety of problems, but he could not in good conscience allow this eccentric although often charming ninety-plus year-old man to continue to wander around the streets of Deland on his own.

I’m not surprised, about the belligerence that is. Pauline had said, sighing. We’ll go up to see him now. He does know we are coming, doesn’t he?

Yes, yes, if course, I’ve explained that to him several times over the last few days. He seems quite pleased.

The two sisters had risen slowly, murmuring their thanks. We’ll see what we can do. You must know after all these years that he can be autocratic and stubborn. He will not come with us readily no matter what we offer him.

The manager nodded while bowing them out the door. He had nothing more to say for the moment. Watching the women make their way to the staircase he sighed as well. Good luck to you, he mumbled, adding under his breath, he’s your problem now. As the sound of their high heels clicking on the polished floor faded, he turned back into his office easing his door closed. If he was lucky they would take the old fellow out for dinner and relieve him of any more worries about him for the rest of this day at least.

The women faced their father now in the privacy of his room. Gloria wrinkled her nose at the musty smell. Everything looked clean and neat, but despite the small fan whirring away on the table in front of the window, the cramped space seemed too warm. He’d made them coffee on the hot plate and rummaged through the cupboard hanging above the sink for what was left of some crumbled coffee cake. Gloria felt a tear sting her eye, remembering the many times he and her sister had visited from New York City bearing coffee and cake. She knew he maintained a frugal diet when alone but he never failed to bring the coffee and cake when he came.

Pauline was questioning him now, perturbed by the hotel man’s remarks. Dad, what possesses you to go into these local restaurant kitchens and complain about the way they do things?

He looked aggrieved and glared. One must always keep up appearances and make sure things are done properly! Dirty dishes are inexcusable no matter how humble the establishment. We have standards to uphold!

But Dad, Gloria offered softly, those are not your establishments. You’ve been retired from the business for a very long time. I agree that where food is prepared and served cleanliness is important, but it’s not your place to inspect other people’s kitchens. If something is not to your liking just get up and leave.

Meanwhile Pauline was attempting to help him into his jacket so they could go for something more to eat. He fussed and slapped her hand away. I can do that! He said testily. Drawing himself up straighter Paul squared his shoulders, You should not forget, we must always uphold our standards. It is important. His face convulsed. Those places may not be mine but standards must be met. He glared at his daughters and then allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. His eyes twinkled. I’ve never told you this before, but it is time you knew. He paused for effect. Taking a deep breath, the ninety-three-year-old man proudly announced. I am after all the illegitimate son of the Kaiser! What that makes you I really don’t know.

Both women choked back the hysterical laughter that rose in their throats. Pauline frowned, You’ve got to be kidding! Gloria giggled, sinking down into the overstuffed chair behind her. Dad, did you hear what you just said?

Of course, I heard what I said, He chuckled. If you’ve got the time when we come back, sit down, it’s a very long story.

PART ONE

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The Beginning

Leipzig, Western Saxony, Germany

1877

CHAPTER ONE

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City of Leipzig

Early Autumn, 1877

Carl Winkler made his way through the crowded cobblestone streets searching for whatever work he could find that morning. Dressed in heavy canvas trousers and vest over a coarsely woven collarless shirt, he pulled his cap further down to shade his face from the flickering gas lights that lit his way. The sun’s rays had not yet dispelled the shadows lurking under the overhanging eaves of the ancient buildings or the numerous narrow alleys leading to who knew where. The young man, sturdily built with broad chest and heavily muscled arms and legs, grimaced as he stepped around the detritus the street sweepers were attempting to remove from the gutters lining the road and felt his stomach growl. The few coins he carried in his pocket would not buy him much breakfast he knew, but perhaps he could offer his services at one of the eating establishments that were just beginning to throw open their doors.

Following his nose as the gas lights sputtered out one by one in the wake of the lamplighter he drew up sharply to avoid sending a small, pigtailed child, who had suddenly appeared in his path, sprawling to her knees.

Mein gott! He muttered, grabbing her by the arm. Realizing he was holding a trembling young woman instead of a child, he blushed and stammered enschuldigung. ¹

The pleasant aroma of the freshly baked strudel she was carrying brought tears to his eyes and a sharp cramp to his stomach. Are you all right? he finally managed to ask. I didn’t see you. You are so small, so dainty, he said to himself, while settling her back on her feet and dropping his hand from her arm. She smiled up at him laughing at his embarrassment.

Oh, it is I who must beg your pardon, she replied dropping her eyes demurely. The pink flush in her cheeks turned his legs to jelly. Her braided hair tied with bits of bright ribbon shone like spun gold. To his surprise, her eyes were hazel, not the blue he expected.

She studied him with a merry face. I should have been paying more attention. Please do not let me delay you. Are you on your way to work or might you be looking for employment that you are out so early this morning?

He bent down to help her retrieve the paper-wrapped items he’d knocked from the basket she had over her arm. Unable to hide the rumblings coming from his stomach he looked up at her with hungry eyes.

It just so happens that my Papa’s helper has not made his appearance yet. She offered with a sympathetic smile. He has been warned before about being late. This is our bake shop as you must have guessed. Would you be interested in taking his place, at least for now? We have much extra work today and need whatever help we can get. The uber- bürgomeister’s house has favored us with a large order and we must not fail to deliver on time.

Carl groaned inwardly. He knew absolutely nothing about working in a kitchen but surely they would feed him if he said yes to her request. He did know that he certainly did not want to say no and walk away from this offer of work and this adorable person.

I am willing to try to assist in any way I can. My name is Carl, Fraulien, Carl Winkler. He doffed his cap and made a small bow.

My name is Minna, she said with a brilliant smile that warmed his heart. Come along, she giggled, tugging at his sleeve and pulling him toward the shop that was emitting the mouthwatering odors. I will tell Papa I have found him a new helper.

Handing him the basket, she pushed open the door and stood aside to let him through.

Carl took in the bustling scene of the small shop, its counters filled with cakes and crullers of all kinds laid out in orderly rows. The pristine white curtains and table cloths dazzled his eyes while his stomach betrayed him by rumbling again.

Proudly Minna introduced him to her mother. What is this? her father called from the work room. Where is that Hans? Late again after all I have told him?

Papa, Minna hurried to explain. This is Herr Winkler who is most anxious for work this morning. See, she smiled, he is strong and quick. Why I would have fallen if he had not caught me when I was in such a hurry I forgot to watch where I was going. He says if you will show him what you wish done he will do his very best." Her eyes, shining with pleasure, went from one to the other of the two men.

Ja, the baker laughed. I can see he is strong — and quick you say? Well, we will see about that. Wiping his floury hands on his apron he came forward. As Minna has no doubt told you we are a man short this morning and I am in no mood to excuse his absence. I will put you to work and see what you can do, but, he paused studying this newcomer with a steady gaze, you would not say ‘no’ to a mug of coffee and a few cakes first, I presume?

His eyes twinkled while he motioned Carl to hang his cap and coat on the peg by the door and take a seat at the work table. Minna ran to fetch two mugs of coffee, hearing the cheerful tinkle of the doorbell at the front of the shop announcing the first customer. The business day had begun and she shivered with a tingle of her own. Something new was happening. The sun lighting up the front window was reflecting from every shiny surface in the room. Minna caught her breath and felt herself glowing as she carefully carried the steaming mugs to the two men who were already in earnest conversation.

Of course, Minna’s father wanted to know more about this stranger. From where had he come and why. The young man gave the impression of having been living from one day to the next recently. He was definitely hungry, but somehow had managed to present himself, if not clean-shaven, at least washed and reasonably tidy.

Carl’s story came out bit by bit in answer to the older man’s questions. His parents had died leaving him with no means of support. Both he and his father had been day laborers, in the fields and orchards during the summer and then hiring on with one or the other of the various construction projects when the seasons turned. He had acquired some education and could read and write, but mostly, he’d admitted with a grin, I make my way with my back and hands. I sometimes think I am lucky, he added, his face flushing. As I made my way along your street this morning drawn by the wonderful smells of your bakery, who would have dared dream that your charming daughter would suddenly appear in my path, in truth, I never saw her until we collided. Fortune surely smiled on us when I was quick enough to prevent her from a nasty fall.

So it seems, Minna’s father rose, while clapping his new helper on the back. Time we get to work. Strudel doesn’t make itself. Tell me when this day is done whether you still think that fortune has smiled on you.

Carl climbed to his feet, thankful for the food and drink but anxious about his ability to do this strange sort of work. After tying on the voluminous apron he was handed, he donned the cap that was to cover his hair and stood ready to be instructed. He fetched, carried, stirred and sifted for all that day and for many days after. His feet, legs, arms and back ached every night when he lay himself down to sleep on the cot his employer had placed for him in the storeroom behind the big ovens. Stretching his tired limbs at the end of each long day he reminded himself how sweet little Minna had brought him the armload of pillows and soft blankets for his bed. He’d not slept so comfortably for quite some time. His lips would curl in a contented smile as he dared to imagine how it would feel to have her crawl in beside him.

Gradually, under the direction of his patient employer, he came to realize he had a knack for the work. It was laborious but pleasant enough — certainly better than digging ditches in the rain and cold or harvesting crops in the hot sun. Yes, he said to himself, I have been lucky. What more could I have wished for? I am warm, dry and well fed, not to mention that just being here near Minna is good fortune indeed.

CHAPTER TWO

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Leipzig

A few weeks later

Carl was to learn that Leipzig had been the site of a most significant battle in the war against Napoleon. Prussia’s Kaiser Wilhelm’s grandson, also known as Wilhelm, was temporarily in residence with the town’s leading citizen. Desiring to view the setting of the battle for himself the Prince, son of Prince Frederick III and Queen Victoria of Great Britain’s daughter, the Princess Royal, also named Victoria, was enjoying the hospitality of the city. Town gossip revealed to those who cared that young Wilhelm had succeeded in his chosen military career despite having sustained an injury to his left arm at birth. Serious enough to have prohibited an ordinary citizen from serving in the army, his infirmity was overlooked due to who he was and he was now awaiting entry into the University at Bonn intending to further his aspirations. The fact that he was an excellent swordsman despite his withered arm did not go unmentioned. His many friends found him quite the raconteur, enjoying his company but not always able to trust his judgment. He tended to be impulsive and heedless of the consequences of his actions rather often.

As it was, both he and his host had been satisfied with the strudel and pfferneuse Minna finally managed to deliver that first morning with Carl’s help. Her father had sent him with her due to the size of the order. To her delight more orders were placed.

Papa will be so pleased, she’d smiled up at him. You have brought us good fortune.

As the days passed, Carl found himself with more and more duties in the shop. Minna resumed making the deliveries alone. Recently she was surprised to find the prince in the kitchen. Apparently he thought nothing of inviting himself to share a cup of coffee and some of the warm cakes with the maids and footmen. She was startled one morning to have him rise and speak directly to her.

I find nothing is more to my liking than sampling your wares fresh from the oven, my pretty maid, he said.

Minna blushed and dropped a curtsey, confessing to Carl later that the look in the prince’s eyes had made her uncomfortable.

You should tell your father, Carl said, with concern.

Oh, I couldn’t do that. He would admonish me and we might lose the custom. These special orders are very important to our business. You must realize that?

Carl frowned, feeling that she should not have to go alone, but said nothing. It was not his place.

CHAPTER THREE

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Leipzig

Early December, 1878

With Christmas approaching Carl felt himself drawn more and more deeply into a concern for Minna that went beyond any emotion he had ever felt before. He had managed on several occasions lately to summon up enough courage to ask her to walk out with him and was pleased to find she was willing. They’d gone together to several Oktoberfest celebrations at