Whipping Boy (38 page)

{Courtesy of Aiglon College, Switzerland, © Erik Friedl from the film
Aiglon College
}

The year I attended Aiglon, JC undertook a yearlong, around-the-world voyage of personal discovery, and placed his school in the care of Group Captain Watts, a decorated World War II fighter pilot, who walked about campus with a chunk of shrapnel in his shoulder.

Luia Forbes, my beloved elocution teacher, was a retired opera diva who shared JC’s passion for Eastern mysticism. Lady Forbes taugh me to
ee-NUN-see-ate
even though her own diction was compromised by loose-fitting dentures.

Jacques Stump, my ski instructor, started the first independent ski school in Switzerland the year I attended Aiglon.

{Courtesy of Aiglon College, Switzerland}

Aiglon’s founding headmaster, a chronic asthmatic, put great stock in physical training and manual labor. On the left, morning PT. On the right, Cesar mugs for the camera as one of our housemates shovels.

{Courtesy of Aiglon College, Switzerland}

Misbehavior at Aiglon often led to “laps,” known more formally as punishment runs. The numbers to the left of the listed offenses indicate how many mile-long circuits the malefactor was required to complete.

{© Patrick Roberts, courtesy of Edith Kurzweil}

Many of my happiest memories of Aiglon are tied to all manner of Alpine adventure.

{Courtesy of Edith Kurzweil}

One of my weekly letters home.

{© Mathias Braschler}

Robert von Badische, Seventy-fourth Grand Master of the Knights of Malta, and his wife, Princess Audrey, posed for Mathias Braschler in 1999, while the loan program bearing his name was in full swing. When I showed my son this photo, he called attention to the prince’s provocative hand gesture.

{New York Post(left)}

Before serving as the figurehead for the Badische Trust Consortium, Prince Robert conducted dozens of bogus knighting ceremonies at various churches around Manhattan. The more ambitious events included engraved announcements, a boys choir, and (as seen above right) a white-gloved, sword-wielding honor guard.

{New York Post(left)}

The theatricality of the investiture ceremonies relied on the talents of the Baron Moncrieffe (seen above). Moncrieffe claimed to be a Serbian aristocrat, but a birth certificate unearthed by criminal investigator Dennis M. Quilty revealed that the onetime department-store window dresser was born in Toledo, Ohio, and that his name was George Ritchie Englert Jr.