Discourtesies

Washington society rocked last week with two more major explosions.

Longworth v. Gann. Without warning, armistice ceased in the war against Mrs. Edward Everett Gann as "official hostess" to her brother, Vice President Curtis (TIME, April 15, et seq.). This time the combat moved into front-line trenches as the lady of the Speaker of the House pitted herself against the lady of the President of the Senate.

Eugene Meyer Jr. was retiring as head of the Federal Farm Loan Board. A farewell dinner was in order. Mrs. Meyer ingeniously devised a system of four tables to circumvent the troublesome question of Precedence. She would head one table, Mr. Meyer another, Vice President Curtis a third, Mrs. Gann a fourth.

Among the guests invited were Speaker Longworth and his popular, influential wife, Alice Roosevelt Longworth, onetime "Princess Alice" of the White House. Great is Mrs. Longworth's political prestige, great her social power, independent her behavior. She sent Mrs. Meyer her regrets, making it clear that she declined to sit below Mrs. Gann. Not to be outdone, Mrs. Gann and the Vice President, likewise stayed at home that evening.

McLean v. de Ligne. Two men were involved in the other rumpus of the week. The Belgian Embassy, an ornate white stone mansion at 18th street and Massachusetts avenue, is now occupied by His Highness Prince Albert de Ligne. One morning last month His Highness was shocked, enraged, at the sight of a splurgy front-page story in the Washington Post in which his recall to Belgium was "definitely forecast." The newspaper said:

"Prince de Ligne, much in demand in Washington's smart official and diplomatic life, has not been seen frequently enough concluding statesman-like negotiations for his government. Tall, distinguished, invariably well-groomed and polished, the Belgian diplomat is nevertheless regarded by some of the leaders of his government as what might be termed in America 'high hat.' . . ."

Next morning the Post remarked:

"The recall of Prince de Ligne . . . was to have been expected. His training, temperament and fixed attitude are all such as to make it impossible for him to be useful to his government as envoy to Washington. . . . The Belgian Government could have searched the kingdom without finding an individual more unsuited to perform the duties which the Prince de Ligne was expected to perform and in which he has so signally failed."

Great was the Belgian Ambassador's perturbation. Washington society gasped at the ferocity of the Post's attack. The Diplomatic Corps was loyally unanimous in its explanation of what lay behind the Post's report and comment. Chorused the diplomatists (in effect):

"Publisher Edward Beale McLean of the Post was among the Prince de Ligne's guests at an Embassy dinner last month. As everyone knows, the Belgian Embassy, like many another, is wet. At the dinner table Mr. McLean dined well, very well, too well. He was distressed. He requested the Prince's assistance. The Prince gave it--and asked his publisher-guest to leave the party. The Post's outbursts ensued."

At the Post office, editors were ready to aver that they had had semi-official assurances that the story of Prince de Ligne's undesirability, and an editorial applauding his removal, would be supported by the Hoover Administration.

Deeply troubled by the Post's animadversions, Prince de Ligne called at the Department of State to verify his status. Secretary of State Stimson wrote him a public note expressing "sincere regret for the editorial discourtesy."

The incident might have ended there had not the "Friend of Belgium" been in the White House.* President Hoover wanted to repudiate the Post's attack against the Prince still more strongly; to establish the fact, without mixing personally in the affair, that the Ambassador was persona grata with the U. S. Government. Therefore, though by custom the President entertains Ambassadors only at formal state receptions and dinners, President Hoover last week invited Belgian Ambassador & Princess de Ligne to a small, private White House dinner. Thus was Publisher McLean, crony of the late President Harding, bluntly squelched.

* "Friend of Belgium" was the title conferred upon Mr. Hoover by King Albert in a special certificate, more honorary than any other deco-ration.