Part 3

Memories of my younger son Norman are so tender and fragrant that his bereaved father may well feel some hesitation in recording them for publication lest they may seem to those who never enjoyed intimate relations with him to have been inspired by absorbing parental pride and affection rather than by less partial and disinterested judgment. If there may be any warrant for this impression it will be readily allowed that the sacrifice of this young life in a great cause and the commingled pride and sorrow occasioned by such a martyrdom furnish adequate occasion for the warmest eulogy. To know Norman well was to love him and admire his fine traits of mind, heart, and soul.

I hardly know when our real companionship began. When he was yet a little boy, just emerging from the nursery, Norman was wise and resourceful beyond his young years. He was always reading and he was persistently inquiring about things worth knowing. His youthful self-reliance is amusingly illustrated by an incident when he was but about eleven years of age. He asked for a private tutor to teach him Latin, and he felt so sure of the kind of an instructor he wanted that he took upon himself the somewhat responsible task of obtaining one without advice or assistance. Having found one willing to accept the position Norman at once proceeded to put him through a preliminary examination to test his professional capacity.

Describing this incident the tutor writes: “Norman came to me for work in Latin when I had no reasonable hours at my disposal for him. At my recommendation he sought the services of another tutor, but he soon came back to me in considerable perturbation. With his quick, incisive, convincing sentences he described Mr. Smith’s inefficiency in Latin, and declared his complete despair of ever getting his tutor over six books of Virgil in two weeks. Not to be caught again by the self-assurance of a tutor, he asked, ‘Can you really read Virgil, Mr. Woodbury, and if so how fast can you read it?’ Determined to keep within the speed limit and not to disappoint him, I said, restrainedly, that I thought I might read ten lines a minute. His eyes glistened with expectancy, but with caution he inquired, ‘Really, Sir? May I time you, Sir?’ With my consent he pulled out a stop-watch, and finding I could slightly better my estimate, he won me over by his irresistible arts of persuasion to give him the hours from seven to eight in the morning and nine to ten in the evening. These were unseasonable hours for so young a lad, but he never failed to be ready for work at the beginning and at the close of the day until his task was completed. Through his vivacity and his cleverness and his unfailing good nature he became very popular with the dozen or more fellows who were tutoring with me that summer. Between him and me there developed a friendship which to me was a source of great enjoyment and has now become a treasured memory.”

This incident serves to show that Norman’s precocity was mitigated by a well-developed sense of humor as well as a playful mischievousness. There was a merry twinkle in his eyes, denoting that he was not always to be taken too seriously in his search for knowledge.

A marked trait of Norman’s early youth was his dashing intrepidity. He began hunting when he was but seven and he never showed a sign of fear. I can see him now in my mind’s eye mounted on his spirited chestnut thoroughbred riding as straight and true as any of the older hunting men. An accident that happened to him and his brother Frederick before they went to school at Groton illustrates the fearlessness of both of them in their childhood. It was a morning appointed for a meet and the rain was falling in torrents, making the riding cross-country more than ordinarily dangerous, so that I deemed it prudent to tell my sons that perhaps it might be better for them not to join us that day. They dearly loved the sport, and I remember how the tears came to the eyes of Norman when he heard my gentle warning, though, as the event proved, he did not take it any too seriously. On my return home that evening I found Norman in the care of a surgeon with a broken thigh, while his brother had a broken collar-bone, the result of fast riding on the slippery turf. Regardless of the dangerous conditions against which they had been warned they had taken not only to hunting but to racing and by accident they had pulled into each other at the finish where both were violently thrown. As they lay stunned on the ground Frederick was the first to gain consciousness and he shortly heard Norman murmuring jokingly, “Fred, I think I’m dead. How do you feel?” Not even this playful disregard of parental counsel operated to check a certain degree of admiration for such an exhibition of calm nerve under painful circumstances. Norman’s interest in hunting and racing witnessed no abatement when he took to aviation, or even after he had experienced some of that stern joy that warriors feel. A post-script to one of his letters from the front in France made the naïve inquiry:

“How did my horse run at the Country Club meeting?”

Another marked feature of Norman’s personality was his gracious and attractive bearing under any and all circumstances. To his quick intelligence and dash he added a courtesy and graciousness of manner that charmed all those with whom he came in contact, whether at home or abroad, at work or at play, in the rough-and-tumble of life or in the drawing room. His _savoir faire_ which seemed his by instinct, gave him a charm that was rare to meet.

About all the notable characteristics that marked Norman’s earlier youth remained with him as he grew older, showing a constantly progressive development. This was particularly the case as to his alert mentality and his remarkable capacity for acquiring knowledge easily and quickly. As a student he could hardly be called exceptionally studious in the sense of being closely attached to his text books, but what he lacked in studious habits he more than made up for by the facility with which he grasped any subject that invited his attention. This accomplishment of his was demonstrated in a gratifying way when he was at Groton preparing for college. He was given an opportunity to join his brother for a year of study abroad, but he asked that he might take his entrance examinations for college before going. The next examinations were only a week or two ahead, and Norman still had another year at Groton before his turn would come in regular course. Having obtained the requisite permission of the Groton and Harvard authorities thus to anticipate his work he underwent the examinations at once, though he was then but 15 years old. He passed them all without a condition and without any uneasy apprehension on his part, apparently.

Having achieved this triumph he went abroad, studying for a time in Germany and at Oxford, subsequently entering Harvard in the sophomore year. At college, as at school, he acquitted himself creditably and was graduated with high honors. He subsequently took the degree of Bachelor of Laws at the Harvard Law School in due course.

It was at this time that he became an enthusiastic devotee of aviation, and when an opening came for him to begin the active practice of the law, he preferred to give his attention to the science and practice of aerial navigation with the Wright brothers and with Starling Burgess at Marblehead. Knowing something of the perils of aviation, particularly during the early stages of its development in this country, and apprehending that its fascinations for Norman might prove more or less perilous, as well as tending to distract his attention from the more serious concerns of life, I sought by every means to dissuade him from giving so much of his attention to it, but his ambition to distinguish himself as an aviator made it difficult for him to pay due heed to my serious counsel, and I subsequently found that he had been experimenting for some time with flying machines in high altitudes under an assumed name in order to escape detection and an undesired notoriety.

Recalling these venturesome incidents in Norman’s early career as an amateur aviator, I sometimes think that perhaps fate had reserved him for the cause to which he finally gave his life and that the character of this service was that for which he had shown such a passionate fondness and aptitude, despite all obstacles and discouragements. Worldly success won by the ordinary plodding methods meant little to him. He aspired to hitch his wagon to a star. He cared nothing for the privileges of wealth, even though they might be within his reach, and he envied no man his success in whatever honorable lines he might elect for himself. His ambition was to achieve something worth while and he gave all his energies to the accomplishment of that purpose.

Considering these predominant traits of Norman’s character, as well as his achievements, I conclude that he could hardly have wished for a nobler fate than that which finally befell him on a battlefield of France.

Speaking for Norman’s mother I would say in her behalf:

“Light sorrows speak—great grief is dumb.”

A mother’s grief for the loss of a dearly beloved son is too deep to find adequate expression in words. Memories of Norman’s tenderly affectionate nature, of his fine character, his charming personality and his unfailing buoyancy and cheerfulness are so real, so vivid, and so abiding that it is difficult to realize that he has gone. Although he has indeed gallantly sacrificed his young life for a cause he dearly loved, his mother cherishes the firm faith that the fine spirit thus displayed by him remains undaunted and unquenched, and that it is still the blessed privilege of those near and dear to him to continue to enjoy this sweet belief.

A further measure of consolation has been found in the many and tender messages of sympathy that have come from near and far, testifying to the warm appreciation of Norman’s rare qualities as they were revealed in his life, and to the general admiration of his heroic self-sacrifice. These messages have helped to comfort and sustain the bereaved family.

FREDERICK HENRY PRINCE.

V

A COMRADE’S TRIBUTE

In a contribution to the _World’s Work_, James R. McConnell, a sergeant-pilot of the original American Escadrille, gave the following graphic description of the engagement in which his comrade Prince lost his life. It is a pathetic circumstance that but a short time after he had written this tribute, Sergeant McConnell himself met the same fate as that which befell his American comrade, his dead body having been found within the German lines where he had fallen in an aerial combat with the enemy.

“On the 12th of October, twenty small aeroplanes flying in a ‘V’ formation, at such height that they resembled a flock of geese, crossed the Rhine River, where it skirts the plains of Alsace, and, turning north, headed for the famous Mauser works at Oberndorf. Following in their wake was an equal number of larger machines, and above these darted and circled swift fighting ’planes. The first group of aircraft was followed by British pilots, the second by French, and four of the battle ’planes were from the American Escadrille. They were piloted respectively by Lieut. de Laage, Lufberry, Norman Prince and Masson. The Germans were taken by surprise, and as a result few of their machines were in the air. The bombardment fleet was attacked, however, and six of our ’planes were shot down, some of them falling in flames. As the full capacity of a Nieuport machine allows but a little more than two hours in the air the _avions de chasse_ were forced to return to their own lines to take on more gasoline. The Nieuports having refilled their tanks, went up to clear the air of any German machines that might be hovering in wait for the returning raiders. Prince found one, and promptly shot it down. Lufberry came upon three and he promptly disposed of them.

“Darkness was rapidly coming on, but Prince and Lufberry remained in the air to protect the bombarding fleet. Just at nightfall, Lufberry made for a small aviation field near the lines, known as Corcieux. Slow-moving machines, with great planing capacity, can be landed in the dark, but to try to feel for the ground in a Nieuport, which comes down at about a hundred miles an hour, usually means disaster. Ten minutes after Lufberry landed, Prince decided to make for the landing field. He spiraled down through the night air and skimmed rapidly over the trees bordering the Corcieux field. In the dark he did not see a high-tension electric cable that was stretched just above the tree tops. The landing gear of his airplane struck it. The machine snapped forward and hit the ground on its nose. It turned over and over. The belt holding Prince broke, and he was thrown far from the wrecked ’plane. Both of his legs were broken and he suffered other injuries. Despite the terrific shock and intense pain, Prince did not lose consciousness for a time. He even kept his presence of mind, and gave orders to the men who had run to pick him up. Hearing the hum of a motor, and realizing that a machine was in the air, Prince told them to light fires on the field. ‘You don’t want another fellow to come down and break himself up the way I’ve done,’ he said.

“Lufberry went with Prince to the hospital in Gerardmer. As the ambulance rolled along Prince sang to keep up his spirits. He spoke of getting well soon and returning to service. It was like Norman. He was always joyous and energetic about his flying. Even when he passed through the harrowing experience of having a wing shattered, the first thing he did on landing was to busy himself about getting another fitted in place. No one thought Prince was mortally injured in the accident, but the next day he went into a coma; a blood clot had formed on his brain. Captain Haaf, in command of the aviation groups of Luxeuil, accompanied by our officers, hastened to Gerardmer. Prince, lying unconscious on his bed, was named a second lieutenant and was then and there decorated with the Legion of Honor. He already held the Médaille Militaire and the Croix de Guerre.

“Norman Prince died on the 15th of October. His body was brought back to Luxeuil and he was given a funeral similar to Rockwell’s. It was hard to realize that poor Norman had gone. He was the founder of the American Escadrille, and every one in it had come to rely on him for inspiration. He never let his spirits drop, and he was always on hand with encouragement for others. I do not think Prince minded going. He wanted to do his part before being killed and he had more than done it. He had, day after day, freed the line of Germans, making it impossible for them to do their work, and five of them he had shot to death.

“Two days after Prince’s death, the Escadrille received orders to leave for the Somme. The night before the departure, the British gave the American pilots a farewell banquet and toasted them as their guardian angels. They keenly appreciated the fact that four men from the American Escadrille had brought down many Germans, and had cleared the way for their squadron returning from Oberndorf. The Escadrille passed through Paris on its way to the Somme front. The few members who had machines flew from Luxeuil to their new post. At Paris the pilots were reënforced by three other Americans, among whom was Frederick H. Prince, Jr., who had completed his training and had come over to serve in aviation with his brother Norman.”

VI

HIS BROTHER’S SERVICE

It was the proud privilege of both the Prince brothers to give their active services to France on the battle fronts. Having passed their boyhood and early youth together, performing the same tasks and enjoying the same recreations, Frederick and Norman developed similar ambitions and aptitudes, particularly in their more strenuous activities. Moreover, they had obtained in part their early education in France, and the call to the French colors at the outbreak of the war appealed almost as strongly to them as to the patriotic Frenchmen. Norman’s early experience as an aviator at home and abroad gave him a temporary advantage over Frederick in that he already had the preliminary training for service in the aviation corps in which both desired to enlist. He was consequently first of the two to realize his heart’s desire and to take the oath of allegiance to France and her cause. It was with pardonable hesitation that permission was subsequently given by his parents to their only other son to join Norman in the perilous aviation service but it was freely given, with an appeal for God’s blessing, and Frederick sailed for France with Norman on the latter’s return from his Christmas furlough at home in 1915. He underwent the rigorous training at the Pau aviation school and began his active service at the front in the late summer, flying at first with the intrepid Captain Guynemer, at the latter’s invitation, and subsequently joining the Lafayette Squadron on the western front. He won the high esteem of his comrades for his courage and manly bearing, performing his duty with joyous enthusiasm and taking active part in twenty-two aerial engagements during the ensuing five months. When Norman fell at Luxeuil, it was a trying moment to Frederick, who had lost his only brother and the companion of his lifetime, but he promptly offered his services to France in his brother’s place and he fought with the Lafayette Escadrille until he came home on a short furlough. He subsequently returned to France to rejoin his Squadron with courage undaunted, and with unflagging faith in the ultimate triumph of the cause he loved and for which he was proud to be actively enlisted.

VII

FROM THE FRENCH ENVOYS

On the occasion of the reception given by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and the City of Boston to the French Envoys who came to this country in an official capacity, the patriotic devotion and sacrifice of Norman Prince were gracefully alluded to by the Envoys who included in their number M. René Viviani, Minister of Justice, Marshal Joffre, Vice-Admiral Chocheprat and the Marquis de Chambrun, Deputy, and descendant of Lafayette. At the lunch in Faneuil Hall, given by the City of Boston, Vice-Admiral Chocheprat, in his reply to the Mayor’s address of welcome, paid a touching tribute to “Mr. Frederick H. Prince’s son Norman, the gallant young aviator who sacrificed his life for France, and the cause of the Allies.” Thereupon Marshal Joffre arose from his seat at the table and placing his hand over his heart made a bow to the young hero’s father, who sat by the Marshal’s side and who was acting as chairman of the reception committee.

Subsequently at the reception given to the Envoys at the Boston Public Library, M. Viviani, in concluding his graceful response to Governor McCall’s address of welcome, said:

“I salute that young hero, Norman Prince, who has died after having fought not only for France, but for America, because we have the same ideals of right and liberty.”

M. Henri Franklin Bouillon, French Minister of International Affairs, who made an official visit to this country later on, took occasion to express his admiration of this fine American aviator. Speaking subsequently at a public gathering in London of his observations in America he said: “I cannot better express to you the sentiment of the American people than by quoting that young American hero Norman Prince, who, in acknowledging a salute to the American aviators in Paris, said, ‘We have done what we have done; you must judge us by our hearts.’”

VIII

MESSAGES OF CONDOLENCE AND APPRECIATION

As Norman Prince was among the first of the American volunteers offering their services to France and to make the supreme sacrifice for her cause, it was but natural that his fate occasioned widespread and deeply sympathetic comment. The mournful tidings served in no small measure to bring home to the American people a more adequate realization of the fact that it was a World War that was waging on the European battle-fields and that the sooner this situation was recognized here the better for the cause of civilization everywhere. The messages of sympathy and appreciation were as numerous and universal as they were fervent and sincere. They found expression in the press, in the pulpit and in the forum, and the name of this hero came to be accepted as a fitting symbol of patriotism and self-sacrifice. Few of these messages were more tender and appreciative than those which came from Norman’s comrades in the aviation service in France. Commanders and subordinates were alike in this respect. A message from the comrades gathered at his bedside when he died said:

“Norman passed peacefully away this morning. He died like the brave man he was. He was more than a brother to us. We are all heartbroken.”

The French Government took formal and appreciative notice of the event, the representative of the French Army in this country sending this message to the family:

“The French Government transmits to you expressions of its deep and sorrowful sympathy on the occasion of your son’s glorious death. In my name as Military Attaché representing the French Army in the United States, I desire to say that his death has been for all his French comrades a cause of profound grief. It is with the greatest admiration that we have seen all these gallant young Americans risking and giving their lives for the cause of France. Their memory deserves to be kept in the hearts of our compatriots as is that of Lafayette in this country.

“We bow gratefully and respectfully before his grave.”

Representing the British Admiralty, Rear-Admiral Alfred E. A. Grant sent this message from London: “It was splendid of him to come over to fight for the Allies. You could have felt nothing but pride to have heard how his commanding officers speak of him—of his popularity with all his comrades; how gallantly and faithfully he performed his duties and how deeply his loss is regretted by all who knew him.”