The Unkindest Blow

by H.H. Munro (SAKI)

　　

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The season of strikes seemed to have run itself to astandstill. Almost every trade and industry and callingin which a dislocation could possibly be engineered hadindulged in that luxury. The last and least successfulconvulsion had been the strike of the World's Union ofZoological Garden attendants, who, pending the settlementof certain demands, refused to minister further to thewants of the animals committed to their charge or toallow any other keepers to take their place. In thiscase the threat of the Zoological Gardens authoritiesthat if the men "came out" the animals should come outalso had intensified and precipitated the crisis. Theimminent prospect of the larger carnivores, to saynothing of rhinoceroses and bull bison, roaming at largeand unfed in the heart of London, was not one whichpermitted of prolonged conferences. The Government ofthe day, which from its tendency to be a few hours behindthe course of events had been nicknamed the Government ofthe afternoon, was obliged to intervene with promptitudeand decision. A strong force of Bluejackets wasdespatched to Regent's Park to take over the temporarilyabandoned duties of the strikers. Bluejackets werechosen in preference to land forces, partly on account ofthe traditional readiness of the British Navy to goanywhere and do anything, partly by reason of thefamiliarity of the average sailor with monkeys, parrots,and other tropical fauna, but chiefly at the urgentrequest of the First Lord of the Admiralty, who waskeenly desirous of an opportunity for performing somepersonal act of unobtrusive public service within theprovince of his department."If he insists on feeding the infant jaguar himself,in defiance of its mother's wishes, there may be anotherby-election in the north," said one of his colleagues,with a hopeful inflection in his voice. "By-electionsare not very desirable at present, but we must not beselfish."As a matter of fact the strike collapsed peacefullywithout any outside intervention. The majority of thekeepers had become so attached to their charges that theyreturned to work of their own accord.And then the nation and the newspapers turned with asense of relief to happier things. It seemed as if a newera of contentment was about to dawn. Everybody hadstruck who could possibly want to strike or who couldpossibly be cajoled or bullied into striking, whetherthey wanted to or not. The lighter and brighter side oflife might now claim some attention. And conspicuousamong the other topics that sprang into sudden prominencewas the pending Falvertoon divorce suit.The Duke of Falvertoon was one of those human horsd'oeuvres that stimulate the public appetite forsensation without giving it much to feed on. As a merechild he had been precociously brilliant; he had declinedthe editorship of the Anglian Review at an age when mostboys are content to have declined Mensa, a table, andthough he could not claim to have originated the Futuristmovement in literature, his "Letters to a possibleGrandson," written at the age of fourteen, had attractedconsiderable notice. In later days his brilliancy hadbeen less conspicuously displayed. During a debate inthe House of Lords on affairs in Morocco, at a momentwhen that country, for the fifth time in seven years, hadbrought half Europe to the verge of war, he hadinterpolated the remark "a little Moor and how much itis," but in spite of the encouraging reception accordedto this one political utterance he was never tempted to afurther display in that direction. It began to begenerally understood that he did not intend to supplementhis numerous town and country residences by livingovermuch in the public eye.And then had come the unlooked-for tidings of theimminent proceedings for divorce. And such a divorce!There were cross-suits and allegations and counter-allegations, charges of cruelty and desertion, everythingin fact that was necessary to make the case one of themost complicated and sensational of its kind. And thenumber of distinguished people involved or cited aswitnesses not only embraced both political parties in therealm and several Colonial governors, but included anexotic contingent from France, Hungary, the United Statesof North America, and the Grand Duchy of Baden. Hotelaccommodation of the more expensive sort began toexperience a strain on its resources. "It will be quitelike the Durbar without the elephants," exclaimed anenthusiastic lady who, to do her justice, had never seena Durbar. The general feeling was one of thankfulnessthat the last of the strikes had been got over before thedate fixed for the hearing of the great suit.As a reaction from the season of gloom andindustrial strife that had just passed away the agenciesthat purvey and stage-manage sensations laid themselvesout to do their level best on this momentous occasion.Men who had made their reputations as special descriptivewriters were mobilised from distant corners of Europe andthe further side of the Atlantic in order to enrich withtheir pens the daily printed records of the case; oneword-painter, who specialised in descriptions of howwitnesses turn pale under cross-examination, was summonedhurriedly back from a famous and prolonged murder trialin Sicily, where indeed his talents were being decidedlywasted. Thumb-nail artists and expert kodak manipulatorswere retained at extravagant salaries, and special dressreporters were in high demand. An enterprising Parisfirm of costume builders presented the defendant Duchesswith three special creations, to be worn, marked,learned, and extensively reported at various criticalstages of the trial; and as for the cinematograph agents,their industry and persistence was untiring. Filmsrepresenting the Duke saying good-bye to his favouritecanary on the eve of the trial were in readiness weeksbefore the event was due to take place; other filmsdepicted the Duchess holding imaginary consultations withfictitious lawyers or making a light repast off speciallyadvertised vegetarian sandwiches during a supposedluncheon interval. As far as human foresight and humanenterprise could go nothing was lacking to make the triala success.Two days before the case was down for hearing theadvance reporter of an important syndicate obtained aninterview with the Duke for the purpose of gleaning somefinal grains of information concerning his Grace'spersonal arrangements during the trial."I suppose I may say this will be one of the biggestaffairs of its kind during the lifetime of a generation,"began the reporter as an excuse for the unsparingminuteness of detail that he was about to make quest for."I suppose so - if it comes off," said the Dukelazily."If?" queried the reporter, in a voice that wassomething between a gasp and a scream."The Duchess and I are both thinking of going onstrike," said the Duke."Strike!"The baleful word flashed out in all its old hideousfamiliarity. Was there to be no end to its recurrence?"Do you mean," faltered the reporter, "that you arecontemplating a mutual withdrawal of the charges?""Precisely," said the Duke."But think of the arrangements that have been made,the special reporting, the cinematographs, the cateringfor the distinguished foreign witnesses, the preparedmusic-hall allusions; think of all the money that hasbeen sunk - ""Exactly," said the Duke coldly, "the Duchess and Ihave realised that it is we who provide the material outof which this great far-reaching industry has been builtup. Widespread employment will be given and enormousprofits made during the duration of the case, and we, onwhom all the stress and racket falls, will get - what?An unenviable notoriety and the privilege of paying heavylegal expenses whichever way the verdict goes. Hence ourdecision to strike. We don't wish to be reconciled; wefully realise that it is a grave step to take, but unlesswe get some reasonable consideration out of this vaststream of wealth and industry that we have called intobeing we intend coming out of court and staying out.Good afternoon."The news of this latest strike spread universaldismay. Its inaccessibility to the ordinary methods ofpersuasion made it peculiarly formidable. If the Dukeand Duchess persisted in being reconciled the Governmentcould hardly be called on to interfere. Public opinionin the shape of social ostracism might be brought to bearon them, but that was as far as coercive measures couldgo. There was nothing for it but a conference, withpowers to propose liberal terms. As it was, several ofthe foreign witnesses had already departed and others hadtelegraphed cancelling their hotel arrangements.The conference, protracted, uncomfortable, andoccasionally acrimonious, succeeded at last in arrangingfor a resumption of litigation, but it was a fruitlessvictory. The Duke, with a touch of his earlierprecocity, died of premature decay a fortnight before thedate fixed for the new trial.

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The Unkindest Blow was featured as TheShort Story of the Day on Fri, Mar 11, 2016

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