The New York Times/1918/11/11/Kaiser's Fall Fails to Excite London
KAISER'S FALL FAILS TO EXCITE LONDON
Absorbed by Lord Mayor's Show, People Accept Abdication News Calmly.
CROWDS CHEER AMERICANS
Airmen Carrying Stars and Stripes Proved a Feature of the Great Pageant.
Copyright, 1918, by The New York Times Company.
Special Cable to The New York Times.
LONDON, Nov. 9.—Official news of the Kaiser's abdication reached London today as dusk was falling, when great crowds were wending their way homeward after seeing the Lord Mayor's show. Londoners may let themselves go later, but today, though the spectacle witnessed by millions was one well calculated to arouse enthusiasm, the crowds maintained that curiously quiet, restrained demeanor which is astonishing everybody at this moment of triumph.
Such applause as was indulged in was for the contingents of the Allies which took part in the Lord Mayor's procession, and particularly for the American flying men who, headed by the Stars and Stripes, marched along the historic route by which the incoming Lord Mayor proceeds from the Guildhall to the Royal Courts of Justice, to take the oath of office, and back to the Guildhall.
The Americans enjoyed the warmest greeting given to any feature of the parade, notwithstanding the fact that it comprised many making a strong appeal to the national spirit. It was a war show rather than a civic function. A number of captured German guns gave a note of victory. And the sense of victory in the air was reflected in the remarks of the crowds and in the myriad of cheerful faces.
Great airplanes moved majestically across the sky, flying so low at times that one could almost distinguish their crews, and squadrons of fighting machines performed a series of battle evolutions in the higher air, while baby scouts, dolphins, and other aircraft, at altitudes so great that they seemed like small birds, performed a veritable dance of joy, looping the loop, nose diving and tail diving, and doing all sorts of stunts as if in sheet delight at the conquest of the air.
The spectacle presented by the flying men for hours without cessation was wonderful, particularly that of the battle fleet of three squadrons. London had seen nothing quite so impressive since that midday of July 7, 1917, when German airplanes, dropping bombs, paraded their destructive superiority in the gaze of citizens too astonished to be afraid.
Nothing Like Mafeking Night.
While Lloyd George was speaking at Guildhall, London's streets remained darkened but thronged as usual by Saturday night crowds, unusually articulate. The Kaiser's abdication was speedily known throughout the central parts of London. Laughter and jests were heard in the darkness, but nothing in the remotest degree resembling Mafeking Night. The theatres were packed to capacity, and public houses, where no spirits and only much diluted beer was obtainable, had queues. Many observers testified that they had not seen a single intoxicated man in the streets today.
Sir Eric Geddes's remarkable statement about the German fleet a fortnight ago being ordered out to battle to cast a last die of fortune, and the refusal of the men to commit suicide, aroused cheers at Guildhall, cheers which were repeated when the First Lord referred to the co-operation of the American Navy with the British in the task of making the victory certain. Geddes's tribute to sea power as decisive of the world's destinies was appreciated by the audience, whose well-being before the war had depended upon that freedom of the seas which the British Navy insured in peace times and whose national existence had been safeguarded by that same navy in time of war.
When the Lord Mayor proposed "His Majesty's Ministers," Lloyd George rose and said:
"I have no news for you."
There was loud laughter at the joke, for everybody knew what the Premier meant by news on the day when the Kaiser's abdication was a matter of common knowledge.
An armistice is not yet certain, but, as Mr. George said, the issue is settled.