The Orchestra of H.M.S. Royal Arthur

 

I don't know his name
but I do know where he was sitting.
He is poised on the deck of a warship
in Great Britain's Royal Navy,
the H.M.S. Royal Arthur.

His affable face was easy to spot
when he turned up in several photos
taken onboard this ship.

Here he is again
with two of his shipmates,
all dressed as seamen
of the Royal Navy.

But what set him apart
from an ordinary sailor
is that he played a violin
in the ship's orchestra.
That's generally not
a standard rating in any navy. 
 

Today I present a small collection
of photo postcards
taken at a time when
Britannia ruled the waves. 

The H.M.S. Royal Arthur was a first class protected cruiser built at the Portsmouth Dockyard in south England and launched on 26 February 1891. It was 387.5 ft (118.1 m) long with a beam of 60.75 ft (18.52 m) and it displaced 7,700 tons. It was the fourth of nine ships built to the same Edgar-class design for a "protected cruiser", so-called because of an internal protective deck that shielded the magazines and machinery spaces within the ship's structure with a layer of 5 in (130 mm) thick steel armor. 

British Edgar class protected cruiser.
Brassey's Naval Annual, 1897. Plate 13.
Source: Wikipedia

The main armament for the Royal Arthur consisted of one 9.2-inch gun mounted aft and twelve 6-inch guns, with one pair replacing another 9.2-inch gun usually mounted at the bow in other ships of this class. The ship was also armed with a dozen smaller guns and four 18-inch torpedo tubes. Power for its twin propellers came from steam expansion engines fueled by coal and producing 12,000 ihp. And for extra insurance there were two masts for rigging sails. 

Engines of the First-Class Protected Cruisers
Theseus and Royal Arthur
Source: The Engineer, 23 March 1894

A cruiser ship in the Edgar class typically carried a complement of 544 officers and seamen. After being fitted out and passing its sea trials, in 1893 the Royal Arthur was first assigned to the Pacific Station in the British fleet which then operated on the eastern side of Pacific Ocean. In this era a voyage to the west coast of South America might take anywhere between 4 to 6 weeks depending on weather. 

My trio of sailors stand on an upper deck of the ship in front of a cowl ventilator which channeled air to the lower decks. Their dark blue uniforms and caps are a classic style that distinguishes sailors of the Royal Navy. The navy's tradition of putting a ship's name on its sailors' caps makes it much easier to identify them compared to soldiers in army uniforms. They have the look of three comrades pleased to pose for a photo that they could send home to their families.  

HMS Royal Arthur, stern view
Source: Wikimedia

In 1897 the Royal Arthur transferred to the Australian Station where it served as a flagship for that fleet from 1897 to 1904. Steamships of this era might make an Atlantic crossing from England to America in about 7 to 10 days. But a voyage to Australia covered a distance of roughly 24,000 km or 15,000 miles and took between 40 to 70 days depending on whether the route went via the Cape of Good Hope at the bottom of Africa or took a manmade shortcut through the Suez Canal. 

What first caught my attention was finding this postcard of a small orchestra of sailors who posed in front of an outdoor stage backdrop. There are 13 musicians with eight violins, cello, clarinet, trombone, and two drums, and all wear caps branded with the badge of HMS ROYAL ARTHUR. The sailor who I've focused on stands second from right in the backrow. Historically the Royal Navy has always used bands of the Royal Marines, but these men are clearly in navy uniforms and, with the exception of the clarinetist, trombonist, and drummers, they are not bandsmen. 

Sydney NSW Morning Herald
16 February 1901

It was during its time in Australia that the HMS Royal Arthur received the most attention in newspaper reports. As flagship of a fleet the Royal Arthur was the resident vessel of the fleet's commanding officer, a vice admiral, who had numerous social and diplomatic duties while the ship was in port. Having a small orchestra onboard offered a useful cultural asset to promote the navy when in port as well as provide a diversion to officers and crew during long voyages. In February 1901 a Sydney newspaper carried a short report of an entertainment at the Seamen's Institute performed by singers, instrumentalists, and orchestra from H.M.S. Royal Arthur. "A selection of patriotic, descriptive, and humorous songs and recitations was rendered by Messrs. Smeaton, Baker, Judge, Parnell, Heald, and Thompson Mr. Cornfoot (violin), Mr. J. Doust and Mr. Howe (mandolin duet), with the orchestra, viz., Miss Evans, Messrs. Collins, Cornfoot, Doust, and Prangley, provided the instrumental items.  The 251 seamen present appreciated the entertainment, and responded heartily to the call for three cheers, made by the chaplain, Rev. T. H. Distan Morgan."

A month earlier the sailors put on a minstrel show at the Temperance Hall in Hobart, Tasmania. A review of this event reported that "the most interesting feature of the evening was the sword bayonet display by the Royal Marine Artillery, the wrist play and movements of the six performers engaged being exceptionally clean and active.  The cutlass display by the blue-jackets was also creditable, and the performance concluded with a farce entitled "Touched".

In February 1902 the Royal Arthur was in Adelaide, South Australia where a group of its sailors gave a concert at the Institute Hall. A short review gave tactful praise: "The String Band Orchestra delighted the audience by the way in which it rendered the selections and accompaniments." Even wrong notes and gimpy rhythms can be entertaining. 

Admiral Pearson's flagship H.M.S. Royal Arthur, 1898
Source: University of Melbourne Archives

The HMS Royal Arthur returned to Britain via the Mediterranean in May 1904 for another refitment at Portsmouth's Dockyards. In 1905 was assigned to the North America and West Indies Station for a short service before returning to England in 1906.

In this photo the Royal Arthur's string ensemble is a bit larger with 16 musicians posed onboard the ship. Seated on the deck in the center is my guy holding a round life saver with the name HMS ROYAL ARTHUR stenciled on it. Seated right behind him is an officer, perhaps the ship's captain. Standing  in the back row, far right, is an older man with a violin who wears a different uniform and cap. He was also in the previous photo. I'm not certain, but he may be dressed in a marine uniform. It's possible he is the leader of this little orchestra. 

In 1906 the Royal Navy added a new battleship to its fleet, the H.M.S. Dreadnought. This huge ship started a revolution in naval power with its size, increased armor, and firepower. It was 527 ft (160.6 m) in length and 82 ft (25 m) across the beam. There was thick steel armor along the belt of the hull, on the decks, around the guns, and between the bulkheads. It was also powered by new steam turbine engines which made it very fast for its size.  But it was its powerful armament which made it a new threat to battleships of other navies. The Dreadnought carried 5 x twin 12-in guns, 27 × single 12-pdr guns, and 5 × 18-in torpedo tubes. Its heavy-caliber guns were capable of a very long fire, a range much longer than other battleships of the time. Soon all the first-order nations began building bigger battleship fleets with more big guns. It was an expensive and jingoistic rivalry that started a naval armament race which in a few years would set up political conditions that led to the First World War. 

This musical group from the Royal Arthur is reduced to 9 musicians with all strings except a clarinetist and a keyboardist on the right. That man sit by a small harmonium that uses foot pedals to inflate its organ bellows. Seated center is an older gentleman not dressed as a sailor but instead a black suit coat with clerical collar. I believe he is the ship's chaplain and that this ensemble was performing a worship service on the ship's deck. Could he be the Rev. T. H. Distan Morgan mentioned in the Sydney Morning Herald?

The photographer must have thought the sailors' caps were too much for the occasion and took this second photo with their hats off. Even the padre has removed his hat. For me it's a rare treat to get a variation on a group photo. 

After returning to Britain, the HMS Royal Arthur was placed in reserve for three years. By 1909 advances in naval design had made cruisers of this type practically obsolete so it was reassigned to the Home Fleet just for training purposes. I don't believe it was ever used again as a flagship, so it seems unlikely that the Royal Arthur orchestra continued after 1906.  

All the postcards were never posted and only one has an imprint: W. Charles. 29 Rhodes St., Holloway, London which might be the name of a photographer or a collector. So it is difficult to date or place a location on my little collection of the Royal Arthur's orchestra. The postcards do have a divided back for message and address, so that means the photo paper is later than 1902 when Britain first allowed postcards to have messages. But beyond that, time and place are just a guess. I think they likely were taken around 1903 to 1904 when the ship was stationed in Australia. 

On board H.M.S. Royal Arthur, 1898
Source: University of Melbourne Archives

This photo of the Royal Arthur's aft 9 inch gun with a seaman and officer standing on deck came from the archives of the University of Melbourne. It and the previous photo of ship at anchor came from a private album of photographs taken in 1898. I like how it gives a better perspective of how compact this warship was when every element had to serve several functions to keep the ship safe and still maintain its military purpose. 

My last postcard of from the HMS Royal Arthur is a grainy photo of twenty men posed formally on a small stage. Several men are dressed as clowns. One man in the back row is showing off his muscular arms. A string band of mandolins, violin, and guitar wear young boys' school uniforms and caps. Behind them is a painted backdrop of a fantasy courtyard with a sign at the top: North Sea College.  Seated second right of center is the officer seen in the photo with the life ring. And seated left of center is the same chaplain seen in the other photos. It's obviously a variety show troupe, most dressed in silly costume for an entertainment. On either side is a navy seaman and a Royal marine standing at attention with rifles fixed with bayonets. It's the only photo where I can't spot the sailor who appears in all the other photos. 

During its time of service the HMS Royal Arthur never participated in any great naval battle but it is an example of how Britain's Royal Navy embraced a formidable sea power to defend the British Empire. That empire, and several others too, would be challenged in 1914 with the start of World War One. 

During the war the Royal Arthur served as a guardship at Scapa Flow and later as a submarine depot ship. It was decommissioned after the war and sold for scrap in August 1921.

The era of HMS Royal Arthur bridges a time between a modern navy powered by steam engines and an older tradition of warships under sail. Close quarter action between ships was still considered possible so sailors trained with hand weapons. Here is a postcard captioned: Life in the Navy, Cutlass Drill showing two long lines of Royal Navy sailors practicing their swordsmanship. The ship is not identified but the postcard was printed in Great Britain, probably around 1902-03.   

A life at sea required diligent work for every seaman in the Queen's/King's Navy. Their ship was their home and it protected them only so long as they obeyed orders and followed countless rules and regulations. I believe most men inevitably formed strong bonds of comradery through their navy service. But it's fascinating to think that some sailors got to enjoy another level of friendship through making music. I would have loved to see one of their shows.    

Now I will close with a rendition of
"When I Was a Lad" a song from HMS PINAFORE,
an operetta composed by Arthur Sullivan
from a libretto by W. S. Gilbert.
 This is a 2017 preview from the Stratford Festival.

I bet the orchestra from HMS Royal Arthur
did a passable version of this song.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where saucy sailors sing only on high Cs.

More Smiles for the Camera!

 

It's a simple request,
an invitation really.
"Smile, please."

But do we look
at the camera
or at the photographer?

At other times it can be a plea,
a desire to see a face shine.
But some people are just shy
or perhaps too coy to smile.

Once in awhile a smile comes naturally.
A spontaneous expression
stirred by a wonder
too beautiful for words.

Yet when the shutter clicks
each smile, scowl,
 grin, or grimace
will be caught
by the camera,
preserved on film,
and printed on paper
for all to enjoy.

Today I present
a few postcards and photos
of photographers with their cameras.

L'Objectif

Regardez mon objectif,

Le trouvez-vous suggestif?..

Je voulais votre portrait,

L'occasion est unique,

Je vousa cueille sans réplique:

Un... deux... trois... voilà; c'est fait!
                                            A. G.

The Objective

Look at my objective,

Do you find it suggestive?

I wanted your portrait,

The opportunity is unique,

I'll capture you without a word:

One... two... three... there; it's done!
                                        A. G.

This young French photographer entices us to admire her equipment and focus on her camera lens. A short note is written on the front: Bon souvenirs ~ Good Memories. I believe this postcard and its short verse were part of a series of lighthearted images produced to promote the novelty of having one's picture taken. This card was sent to another young lady in Ligny-en-Barrois, France on 27 July 1903.

* * *

On this postcard we are shown a scene not unlike a screenshot from a film. A young couple sit at the base of a great tree in a forest. The man, a member of clergy to judge by his collar, makes some earnest entreaty to a young woman who looks away dejectedly. Meanwhile in the background two men with cameras furtively attempt to photograph the couple.

The caption reads: Camera Fiends.  

The card was posted on 23 October 1905 from Tiverton, a town in Devon, England, to Mrs. Dilten(?) of Newbury in West Berkshire, about 120 miles northeast of Tiverton.

                                Very sorry not to have
                                written before but do not
                                seem to have time.
                                Will write later on.
                                When are you coming
                                home again shall be 
                                glad to see you.
                                I am making a blouse
                                & hundred & one other things
                                so am pretty well filled up.
                                            Love from all  X Gweneth X
 

* * *

This postcard is an illustration, not a photo. A group of seven figures, male and female silhouettes, cut from black paper I think, gaze on a grand view of snowcapped mountains. Most of the people have umbrellas, canes or walking staffs, but on the left one person is bent over, hidden under a hooded camera that is mounted on a tripod. He is either focused on the mountains or on the other tourists admiring the majestic landscape. There is a caption in French and German:

Lever de soleil                Sonnenaufgang      

3 h. du matin                  morgens 3 Uhr   

~

Sunrise

3 a.m.

   On the side of the image is a printed name of the publisher:
902 Éditeur: Comptoi. De Phototypie,  Neuchatel (Suisse)

 

The card was sent from La Côte-aux-Fées, Switzerland on 31 August 1899 to Monsieur Carey in Geneva which is about 60 miles to the south. It has a playful quality that makes fun of the efforts foreign visitors would go to just to experience a sunrise over the Alps. 

* * *

For a theme of cameras and photographers
I can't resist including some pictures
of the photographer I know best. 

This young soldier is a very long way from the Alps but he does have a Swiss camera hanging over his shoulder. This is my dad, Russ Brubaker, smiling for the camera as he stands on a rocky mountain ledge overlooking the Sea of Japan. It is 1952 and he was a Lieutenant in the 2nd Infantry Division of the U. S. Army serving in South Korea. He had only been married to my mom for a couple of months when he was ordered to join the forces battling the Chinese and North Koreans in Korea. This photo was taken that summer and he wrote a caption on the back.

 Gee ... !  I'd love to have a beer!
note the sweat on my hat band.

In this photo Russ stands next to a tall rocky embankment as he fiddles with his camera. His caption on the back says:

 Koje   Turning up the next picture

Koje is an island on the southern coast of the Korean peninsula. 

This was his new camera, an Alpa 35mm single lens reflex made in Switzerland that he had recently purchased in Japan while on leave. I suspect he was still getting used to the mechanism for reloading film. It was his second camera, an improvement over a cheaper 16mm fixed lens mini-camera which is what took this picture held by one of his comrades. These snapshots were processed by a photo service which I presume was at an American military base in Japan. After the prints came back my dad carefully fixed these photos of his war service into an album, each mounted with adhesive corners on heavy black paper with captions in white ink. 

 

I almost missed this photo as the print was rather dark. But looking closely I recognized a face. It's my dad taking a selfie while wearing his army helmet. This photo has a caption too. 

"reflections on a search light" 

It's a variation on the first photo that he took with his Alpa camera, another selfie using a Tokyo hotel room mirror, which begins my December 2021 story The Eye Behind the Camera. Here he must have been walking around his unit's compound and spotted the mirror of the searchlight. After I played with the digital scan I improved the contrast to show a pretty decent composition. However I suspect that when the searchlight was turned on the heat from the lamp, not to mention its brightness, would have made it very dangerous to be this close. With his helmet on he looks like another photo.

This is a closeup crop from another photo of my dad in Korea that I featured in Everything In Focus back in August 2018. None of his photos show any of combat or action. Most are of people, soldiers mainly, who smile for his camera. Fortunately his unit was never involved in the worst battles of the Korean War, but he still endured enough discomfort to recognize that he wasn't cut out for the infantry. The following year he transferred to the U. S. Army Transportation Corps where he found that handling logistics for the army made for a more rewarding career. He continued for another 25 years retiring as a Lt. Colonel. 

Since I had not yet come into the picture, so to speak, the memories in these photos are not mine. I only grew up thumbing through the pages of these photo albums, mostly paying no attention to my dad's stories about his comrades and the war they experienced. I know now that this first exposure to combat overseas defined his commitment of service to his country. It makes me proud to see him in uniform. But what I most recognize in these photos, something I noticed even as a child, is my dad's smile. It was a face full of friendly enthusiasm and unbounded curiosity. It was a smile for the camera that still makes me smile. 

This my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where, for a change, the camera takes center stage.

Invitation to the Dance

  

I was the swirl of motion that first caught my attention. It's a picture of a dancing couple in elegant formal dress. Without background and viewed from above as if seen from a balcony, the artist focuses only on their embrace in a quick moment of a dance turn. It's not the kind of postcard I usually buy but as I explored more of this artist's work I recognized he was depicting a time when formal dancing was the height of sophistication and cultured manners. 

The front of the card has a note and a date:

Tharandt 11/5 08
O! Welche Seligkeit! ~ Oh! What bliss!

Tharandt is a small town in Germany, situated on the Weißeritz River, 13 km (8.1 mi) southwest of Dresden. It is addressed to Frau M. von Eye of Berlin. The note is from Alfred, whom I'm guessing was her husband.

Ferdinand von Řezníček (1868–1909)
Source: Wikimedia

The artist is Ferdinand von Řezníček (1868–1909), a contemporary of Fritz Schönpflug whose work I featured on my blog last weekend. Řezníček was also Austrian, born in Sievering, (now part of Vienna), and the son of General Josef Řezníček and his second wife, Hermine née Conrad. Like many sons, Ferdinand was expected to follow his father and pursue a military career. But after his father's death in 1886, when Ferdinand was just eighteen, he instead followed a passion for art and moved to Munich to study painting. There he became a well-known illustrator for several German satirical magazines.  

 

This second card is a variation on the same theme, showing a different couple in mid-step. The young woman bends backward to smile at us. Both pictures are lightly tinted with color.

The front message is written in a style too difficult for me to translate. The back has a Bavarian postmark from München/Munich dated 22 January 1913. It is addressed to someone in Stuttgart which was the capital of Württemberg, a historical German territory east of Bayern/Bavaria know as the cultural and linguistic region of Swabia.   

Řezníček found his greatest success illustrating for Simplicissimus, a German weekly satirical magazine. It was founded in Munich by Albert Langen in April 1896 shortly after Řezníček became an editorial assistant to Langen. The magazine took its name from a picaresque German novel, Simplicius Simplicissimus, published in 1668 and considered the first adventure novel in the German language. The title Simplicius is the name given to the protagonist who early in the novel was thought so simple that he did not know what his own name was. 

Simplicissimus
March 1905
Source: Internet Archive

Every week Simplicissimus printed stories and essays on current social and political issues in Imperial Germany. The magazine engaged many prominent German writers and artists like Řezníček to give it a modern graphic style that was very different from conservative newspapers and journals. Its front covers poked fun at politicians and military figures with colorful caricatures which made Simplicissimus one of the more influential satirical magazines. 

This cover of a clown carrying a gayly masked woman on his shoulders was produced for a special edition of Simplicissimus celebrating Karnevals or Fasching, the festive season that occurs at the close of the Christian pre-Lenten period in the German-speaking countries of Germany, Switzerland and Austria. Though I'm not certain, I believe the artist is Ferdinand Reznicek, as several of his drawings, like the next one, were in this particular edition. 

Simplicissimus
March 1905
Source: Internet Archive

The Simplicissimus magazine published several collections of Ferdinand Reznicek's artwork in book form and then individually in series of postcards.

This dancing couple have added an energetic drop to their routine. The postcard was also sent to Frau v. Eye of Berlin by, I think, Alfred but a month later on 13 June 1908. 

The acrobatic stance of this couple shows they are clearly having a real good time on the dance floor. The penciled message on the front is too challenging for me but there is a date 3 II 06 which corresponds to the postmark of 4 February 1906 on the back. It was sent from München to Egmating, a small community near München. The card was published by Simplicissimus as Series I, no. 5. Notice that in the corner it is identified as a "Postkarte" in seventeen different langauages.

   

Several characters in Ferdinand Reznicek's drawings wear masks which I assume is connected to fancy dress costumes worn during the carnival season. This was also the winter season for balls which popularized the traditions  of ballroom dancing in Central Europe. 

But as is well known, after the invitation to the dance there are other invitations that can lead to more lascivious activities. This colorful drawing shows a couple in a passionate embrace after a few glasses of Champagne. I don't recognize the dance move but I feel sure that in the music the strings have modulated to a higher key. 

Pictures of dancers were only one theme that Ferdinand Reznicek was skilled at. He also made a lot of artwork for Simplicissimus that was risqué with subtle erotic overtones. This example was originally a drawing in black ink but was reprinted during the war years. This card was sent to a young woman in Wien on 29 January 1916, possibly by a soldier as it has a military overstamp next to Kaiser Franz-Joseph's green stamp. 

Ferdinand Reznicek died in May 1909, but his artwork continued to be reprinted by Simplicissimus. The magazine continued operating during the First Word War and later the Weimar period taking a tough stance against political extremists whether on the left or the right. But as the National Socialist party came to power, the editor of Simplicissimus, a Jew, was forced to resign and flee into exile. The remaining writers and artists turned the magazine into another propaganda rag for the Nazi party until it stopped publication in 1944. It was revived in 1954 but finally closed in 1967.

I have more postcards of Ferdinand Reznicek's artwork
which I plan to use in future stories. Stay tuned.

Meanwhile here are videos that demonstrate the Viennese waltz
which was the dance I believe Ferdinand Reznicek
was depicting in his drawings.
First there is this instructional video 
How-to dance the Viennese Waltz - It Takes Two
from the BBC Strictly Come Dancing show.
The explanation of the dance is terrific
but unfortunately the  accompanying music
is neither a waltz nor remotely Viennese. 

Next is a short video
from the Ball of the Vienna Philharmonic in 2019

And to finish here is a delightful scene
from the Wiener Opernball 2020,
the Galopp nach der Mitternachtsquadrille.
The beautiful trained dancers have left the floor
and now it's a frenzy as every man and woman 
starts kallomping around in time to the music. 

It's not a waltz in three but a gallop in two.

 

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where everyone bends over backward

to offer the best blogging hospitality.

Getting Around Old Wien part 4

 

Lesson No. 38
(1910 Österreichisches Autofahrerhandbuch * )

                            When confronted with a steep incline

                            and no horse can be put before the auto,
                            brute manpower may be the only solution. 

Postmarked from Wien, Austria 27 June 1904.

This comic postcard was created by Fritz Schönpflug (1873 – 1951), a Viennese artist who produced hundreds of amusing caricatures of life in the era of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire. I've featured his work many times on this blog and this post returns to his series on automobiles. The previous one was in May 2022, Getting Around Old Wien part 3.    

* * *

Scientific America,
cover 13 January 1906
Source: Internet Archive

 

Lesson No. 171
(1910 Österreichisches Autofahrerhandbuch)

                    To properly distinguish which end
                    of the Radmutternschlüssel to use
                    on the Stoßdämpferbaugruppe of your Kraftfahrzeuge,
                    please consult the manual or an expert mechanic find.

Hand dated 10 December 1904.

* * *

Automobile diagram from
"Audels answers on automobiles,
for owners, operators, repairmen" — 1912
Source: Internet Archive

 

Lesson No. 212
(1910 Österreichisches Autofahrerhandbuch)

                            When off the beaten track or in unfamiliar country villages

                            it is important to master the three-point turn

                            or risk driving persons or animals around the bend. 

Postmarked from Groß Flottbek, Germany in Hamburg 21 June 1904.

* * *

Sixty Miles an Hour by Frederic W. Hager,
sheet music cover 1910
Source: International Music Score Library Project (IMSLP)

Popular Mechanics,
cover April 1910
Source: Internet Archive

Lesson No. 14
(1910 Österreichisches Autofahrerhandbuch)

                            During the first time operating an auto one must remember
                            both hands remain on the Lenkrad at all times, 
                            the Gaspedal not to press excessive, while the other foot ready always
                            to activate the Kupplung or Bremsen for vehicle safely to halt. 
                            The driver must stay alert and avoid distracting Geschnatter with passengers.

Postmarked from Wien, Austria 26 May 1930.

* * *

Saturday Evening Post,
cover 15 June 1912
Source: Internet Archive

The Pierce-Arrow Motor Car Co.,
advertisement 1909
Source: Internet Archive

Lesson No. 1,736
(1910 Österreichisches Autofahrerhandbuch)

                            A good motorist respects the rights of other drivers no matter
                            if they are operating old-fashioned vehicles at slow speeds
                            or engaging in unexpected maneuvers in the roadway.  
                            Pass with care, steer clear of obstacles, and avoid antagonizing behavior.

Unposted but dated [1]910 by Fritz Schönpflug next to his signature.

*I apologize if any readers have attempted to find this work online
but the "1910 Österreichisches Autofahrerhandbuch" is entirely a figment of my imagination.

The Peerless Motor Car Co.,
advertisement 1908
Source: Internet Archive

Klaxon Automobile Horns,
advertisement 1910
Source: Internet Archive

   The KLAXON is the most effective safeguard against collision ever devised.
   The penetrating KLAXON blast is audible to another driver a quarter to half a mile ahead, and on water from one to two miles.  It resembles no other created sound.  It is purposely harsh and startling, for a harsh note has a natural warning quality lacking in musical notes.
   The driver who hears a KLAXON does not stop to think:  he turns to his side of the road involuntarily and promptly. 

But words are not enough.
To best appreciate
the superior qualities
of a KLAXON horn
one must listen to its sound.

But not too close.

Sound familiar?

Dayton, OH Herald
29 January 1930

Henry Fillmore (1881- 1956) was an American composer and bandleader, famous for his exhilarating circus marches. In 1929 he composed "The Klaxon" subtitled "March of the Automobiles" for the 1930 Cincinnati Auto Show dedicating it “to the producers of the Klaxon Automobile Horns." For the event in Cincinnati, Fillmore commissioned a novelty instrument from the Klaxon department of the Delco-Remy Corp. that he called the "klaxophone". It had 12 specially tuned automobile horns fixed to a table and powered by a car battery. It was played over a nationwide radio broadcast in January 1930. The march proved so popular that Fillmore and his band took it on the road. 

Here is a splendid performance of The Klaxon.

played by the United States Army Field Band

as part of a concert give in April 2020.

Apparently the U. S. Army Field Band
doesn't have a klaxophone in its arsenal. 

 

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where everyone is on a road trip this weekend.