Have Any Average Joe's Ever Become Kings?

Kings are usually either born in to their royalty or they take royalty, chop off its head and sit on its throne. History is filled with stories of men ascending to the throne and ruling those below them with an iron fist. Some of these stories are glorious and gory, but there are other stories of ascension that are along the lines of a random dude just wandering in to your living room and declaring the land “Randomdudeonia” and setting up a thrown in front of your couch as if you weren’t even sitting in it.

These are those men…

Baron James A. Harden-Hickey  

James Harden-Hickey was a man of great intelligence and education. In his life he wrote 11 books, one of which was a suicide how to guide, Euthanasia: The Aesthetics of Suicide, for those that didn’t quite understand the subtle complexities of throwing themselves off of a tall thing, or stabbing themselves in the neck with a sharp thing. He was a man that loved adventure and had had plenty of it in his life time. Even when he was writing for a news paper, he still managed to find some trill. His articles’ anti-democracy, pro-monarchy views so enraged some readers that he was challenged to, and won, no less than 12 duels in his life.

One day, James realized that he just flat out hated his life. He divorced his wife, renounced Catholicism; jumped on board the Buddhism bandwagon and sailed away to look for more of that adventure he loved so much. One of the stops he made was to an uninhabited 60 sq. Mile island 700 miles off the coast of Brazil. He took one step off the boat, took a look around and said “Yep. This is mine now.” He named himself James I, Prince of Trinidad. Seeing as there was no “King” of Trinidad above him, there was never any real reason for him to be the prince. For as smart as he was, he was also kind of dumb.

After the island was re-categorized as an independent nation, James wanted to pretty-up the place and make everything real official-like. James went and found himself some loyal subjects to rule (what good is a monarchy if there isn’t anyone to oppress?),designed a  flag, a coat of arms, created a mini-army of chivalric knights, got a hold of some government bonds to build infrastructure, and even issued some official stamps. He was really getting in to the idea of being a world leader. It’s just too bad the rest of the world didn’t care.

England and Brazil were sat over at the grown-up table arguing over the ownership of the land, while James played with his peas at the kids table, dreaming of his inevitable world domination. After a few years of haggling, England (who invaded the island while James was on it) realized that it really didn’t give a damn about the island and just gave it up to Brazil, completely ignoring James. Brazil, happy that England would finally leave them alone about that damn island, just left it to bake in the sun.

Feeling powerless and useless, James spent the rest of his days in a deep depression. That is, until 1898 when he must have discovered an old copy of his book Euthanasia: The Aesthetics of Suicide. He killed himself.

Patrick Watkins

We all know the story of Charles Darwin and his groundbreaking study of the Galapagos wild life. But roughly 30 years before Darwin ever got inspired to write that that book that pissed of Creationists, a man by the name of Patrick Watkins became the Galapagos’ first official settler…and it’s first (and only) king…and it’s first official murderer. Most land masses have to wait decades for all three. The Galapagos got it all in one shot.

Watkins was an Irish Whaler that, for no reason historians can figure out, just up and left his whaling ship for the beautifully isolated Galapagos Islands. Once there, Watkins took a look around. He noticed that there wasn’t a flag planted anywhere; no city hall; no police officers; no president or king. He shouted “Hello?!” a few times and no one responded. He even stretched his arms, pretended to lie down, and said “Boy, carrying around all these diamonds and monies and rich stuff sure makes me tired!” but no one came. He was utterly alone.

So, he made himself king. The king of sand. Sand and tortoises.

Watkins lived on the island for many years and lived off of various vegetables that he grew himself. On occasion, trading ships would pass and Watkins would trade his freshly grown crops for something, anything he could use to get completely trashed with. Rum usually did the trick.

Here’s where the story of King Watkins of the Galapagos gets a little murky and splits off in to slightly different directions, all of which are equally insane and entertaining.

One day, a trading ship sailed in. Watkins, apparently bored and without a Pictionary partner, elected to steal the ship along with the 5 slaves on board in order to find himself a queen. When he reached the shores of Peru, the 5 slaves had mysteriously disappeared. Some say he killed them to conserve water, others say he ate them. We’ll go with ate because all the saltiness from the ocean makes anything tastier. When he reached land, he…

And now, folks, we play a little “Choose Your Own Adventure” game with the life of Patrick Watkins seeing as no one has a clue as to what really happened.

1)    Watkins found himself a lovely lady to marry so they could rule the sand and tortoises with an iron fist. When he got back to the boat, the husband of the woman he had chosen had caught up to them and gave his heart a proper stabbing.

2)    Local police kept an eye on this shifty character, Mr. Watkins, because he looked like a man that could potentially snap and kill 5 slaves on a stolen boat. Potentially. When he made it back to the boat, the police arrested him and locked him away for life…that is, until he died. At which point, he was allowed safe passage into the dirt.

Did you pick one? Good! Congratulations! You’re an Historian now!

www.galapagos.to

Carl Haffke

Haffke lived the life of your average early 1900s immigrant. Happy to be in America, he became a messenger in Omaha, Nebraska for Western Union, then later joined the navy and fought in the Spanish-American War. At some point during the war, Haffke ended up in the Philippines where he stayed and eventually landed a job as a court stenographer.

While there, Haffke made friends with many of his local town’s folk including many Ilocano chiefs (the Ilocanos are the 3rd largest ethno-linguistic group in the Philippines). He became such good friends with them, in fact, that when nature had its way with the Ilocanos by way of a massive cholera epidemic, the remaining tribal members named Haffke their king. But before Haffke ever put on the crown, he allowed his newly found American side takeover for a bit by way of cutting huge finical deals with the tribe. The deal stipulated that if Haffke were to become king we would: A) receive an upfront 6-figure lump sum of cash from the tribe, B) 5 percent of all tribal profits, and C) servants. They agreed, and Haffke became King Carlos I.

King Carlos performed his kingly duties quite well as he purchased farming equipment for the tribe and thought them all of the state of the art agricultural techniques of the time. After a year, though, Haffke began to miss his new/old home, Nebraska. He decided to take a short visit back just to say hello and to possibly rub the fact that he was now a king in the faces of all the morons in the Western Union mail room. While home, he decided to look up an old lady friend of his; perhaps he could get lucky with her one more time because, let’s face it, it’s pretty good to be the king (because it can get you lots of the sexing). After he met up with this girl from his past, he realized that he could never win her over on the idea of coming back with him to the Philippines and ruling alongside him.

This hit Haffke so hard that he gave up the throne and never returned to his post as King of the Ilocano, instead, favoring stay in Nebraska and practice law.

Giueseppe Bartoleni

In 1833, the King of Sardinia, Carlo Alberto, took a leisurely sail of the nearby seas. When the ship passed the beautiful island of Tavolara – located just off the coast of Sardinia -- which was thought to be uninhabited, King Alberto requested that his Capitan pull over and let him out as to explore the island on his own. This may sound like I’m setting up a horror story where a character wanders off and then gets stabbed by a freak in a mask, but, no. This is much cooler.

After a short time of wandering around and possibly looking for some indigenous folk to oppress, Alberto came upon a massive mountain of a man who stood at a shocking 7 feet tall. This monster was Gieseppe Bartoleni, a Sheppard from another island close to Sardinia, Maddalena. Alberto was shocked to discover that Bartoleni, a peasant, was pretty much a genius. For one, he wasn’t illiterate, which instantly put him head and shoulders above most peasants of the time. Combine that with the fact that Bartoleni was fluent in several languages, and was very well educated; King Alberto thought of no other thing to do with this man than to make him King of the island of Tavolara on the spot.

Bartoleni was the head of not one, but two families on two separate islands. The Italian government had outlawed bigamy, but couldn’t prosecute Bartoleni due to him being a sovereign ruler of his own land and all. Bartoleni had both of his families moved to Tavloara, which would have made for a wacky sitcom crappily titled “Royal Pains.” Wait, that already exists, doesn’t it?

In the 1840s, Bartoleni died, and his crown was passed to his eldest son. When the eldest died, the now many inhabitants of Tavolara declared the island a republic.

David O’Keefe

The story of David O’Keefe, an Irish immigrant from Savannah, Georgia, and his rise to power is basically the story of a man that, through some kind of insane alchemy, could turn the crap that life shovels at us all in to nothing but good.

One day, O’keefe just up and left his wife and daughter to presumably start a new life in China. On his way there, his ship wrecked and he ended up on a West Pacific island called Yap. Where most would be distraught, O’keefe just kind of spit out some salt water, dusted off his sandy clothes and said, “Close enough, I guess,” and immediately began making this island his home and its inhabitants his friends.

In no time, O’Keefe was a real estate mogul, and after a few years of mogul-ing, was simply handed the king’s crown. He created a Yap national flag and built himself a mansion on in the island harbor. Eventually, the local tribal chiefs insisted that O’Keefe take on a queen; specifically, the queen they were offering him. Even though O’Keefe completely left his Savannah family in the dust, he still felt bad about starting another family. He soon got over all that hogwash and took on a 2nd wife (ridiculously named Queen Dollyboy). They produced 7 kids. He probably felt terrible about each one, seeing as he was only further solidifying his betrayal to his first wife, but the thought getting to have more sex to have another child probably suckered him in; at which point he would yell, “Curses! You and your demon vagina!” before being completely okay with it just seconds later.

In 1901, O’Keefe suddenly remembered, again, that he had a family in Savannah, so he sent them word that he was on his way to visit. He got lucky when his ship was lost at sea. He got lucky because there was no telling how glorious the beating his first wife would have given him for not only just running off for years, but for returning with two children.