wife to gloat, then he had no objection. He objected very seldom to anything she did. She had borne him one son, and he forgot her existence thereafter. She could spend what she wished, travel where she chose, surround herself with her own friends and amusements, while he enjoyed life in his own way. He took no interest in his son either; that was the motherâs province.
And as the boy grew up Margaret detected the same traits in him as in his father. He was stupid; even as a baby he lacked initiative, content to sit and play with his fists, sucking and chewing until his nurse put him into gloves. His eyes had the Von Hessel glaze of indifference to life. He made little progress at lessons. His tutors said frankly he was bored. At school he showed an aptitude for sport, and being who he was, his academic failings were overlooked. He was a failure whose family name protected him, and nothing his mother could say or do could light any gleam of ambition or enthusiasm in him. The more she criticised the less he reacted. He was found dead drunk in his room at the age of fourteen. He was a member of the Hitler Youth, which his father had insisted he become with the idea that the discipline would do him good. Margaret had objected bitterly but there was nothing she could do. Her husband had to be obeyed. He talked of discipline, when what he meant was politics. They were immensely powerful and rich, but even so they didnât dare to flout the growing power of the dictator who controlled the country. Friendship with the Nazi hierarchy wasnât required of people like them; but it was unwise to deviate in public. So Heinrich was enrolled in the Hitler Jugend and dressed up in the uniform. After a year he was privately expelled for being drunk. He was sent to a clinic in Austria under another name, surrounded by servants and a bodyguard to keep away the curious. He came back apparently cured but within six months the bouts began again. He smashed the furniture in his room, and there was a short spell in a nursing-home before another cure was tried, this time in Switzerland. It was the beginning of a pattern which was repeated over the next ten years. He grew up with his public Von Hessel image; a typical German aristocrat, heir to an immense empire of armaments, steel, coal, and allied industries, one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. Heinrich showed no interest in women. He had a permanent, passionate love affair with alcohol, and his world was bounded by the possibility and availability of drink. There was no contact between him and his father, who quite calmly declared him useless and gave no more thought to him. His only concern was to prevent the secret being known, to protect the family name. All the influence which his incredible wealth could exert was employed to keep Heinrichâs misdemeanours out of the newspapers. There was gossip among their friends. His frequent absences caused a rumour that he was subject to mental breakdown. He was said to be a homosexual, because there were no women in his life. When war broke out he was eighteen. The Prince made him a director of the armament factory in the Ruhr, and he was exempted from military service. It was the only time in their long married life that Margaret had felt sorry for her husband. They spent the evening together, which was a rare occurrence, and he said quite simply that it was the most miserable day of his life.
âMy son isnât even fit to serve his Fatherland. He has to hide while his friends go out to fight. And heâs the last of us. Our family dies out with a drunken degenerate who canât be trusted not to disgrace himself. Which is my fault, not yours. We must have more children.â
His wife had suspected his sterility, when he ceased to cohabit with her. His syphilis was cured but its after-effects were permanent. There had been nothing she could say, yet he seemed to expect an answer. The silence had grown between
And as the boy grew up Margaret detected the same traits in him as in his father. He was stupid; even as a baby he lacked initiative, content to sit and play with his fists, sucking and chewing until his nurse put him into gloves. His eyes had the Von Hessel glaze of indifference to life. He made little progress at lessons. His tutors said frankly he was bored. At school he showed an aptitude for sport, and being who he was, his academic failings were overlooked. He was a failure whose family name protected him, and nothing his mother could say or do could light any gleam of ambition or enthusiasm in him. The more she criticised the less he reacted. He was found dead drunk in his room at the age of fourteen. He was a member of the Hitler Youth, which his father had insisted he become with the idea that the discipline would do him good. Margaret had objected bitterly but there was nothing she could do. Her husband had to be obeyed. He talked of discipline, when what he meant was politics. They were immensely powerful and rich, but even so they didnât dare to flout the growing power of the dictator who controlled the country. Friendship with the Nazi hierarchy wasnât required of people like them; but it was unwise to deviate in public. So Heinrich was enrolled in the Hitler Jugend and dressed up in the uniform. After a year he was privately expelled for being drunk. He was sent to a clinic in Austria under another name, surrounded by servants and a bodyguard to keep away the curious. He came back apparently cured but within six months the bouts began again. He smashed the furniture in his room, and there was a short spell in a nursing-home before another cure was tried, this time in Switzerland. It was the beginning of a pattern which was repeated over the next ten years. He grew up with his public Von Hessel image; a typical German aristocrat, heir to an immense empire of armaments, steel, coal, and allied industries, one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. Heinrich showed no interest in women. He had a permanent, passionate love affair with alcohol, and his world was bounded by the possibility and availability of drink. There was no contact between him and his father, who quite calmly declared him useless and gave no more thought to him. His only concern was to prevent the secret being known, to protect the family name. All the influence which his incredible wealth could exert was employed to keep Heinrichâs misdemeanours out of the newspapers. There was gossip among their friends. His frequent absences caused a rumour that he was subject to mental breakdown. He was said to be a homosexual, because there were no women in his life. When war broke out he was eighteen. The Prince made him a director of the armament factory in the Ruhr, and he was exempted from military service. It was the only time in their long married life that Margaret had felt sorry for her husband. They spent the evening together, which was a rare occurrence, and he said quite simply that it was the most miserable day of his life.
âMy son isnât even fit to serve his Fatherland. He has to hide while his friends go out to fight. And heâs the last of us. Our family dies out with a drunken degenerate who canât be trusted not to disgrace himself. Which is my fault, not yours. We must have more children.â
His wife had suspected his sterility, when he ceased to cohabit with her. His syphilis was cured but its after-effects were permanent. There had been nothing she could say, yet he seemed to expect an answer. The silence had grown between
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