Chapter 33
“It is the inalienable right of every Englishman to pronounce foreign words exactly as he pleases.”
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(Taken from “London: A History” by Andrew Ayrton, Star 1987)
“1891 was not a good year for Gustav Eiffel. His professional involvement in the Panama Canal fiasco had tainted his career with scandal and made him increasingly unpopular with the French authorities, who regarded his presence as an embarrassment; his personal finances were growing shaky, and his attempts to find new work in France were unsuccessful. Eiffel did have one trump card; his revolutionary design for a free-standing steel-lattice tower[1]. For a time though, even this was of little benefit to him; having already been rejected in Paris and Barcelona, his design was further dismissed by the organising committee of the Chicago Columbian Exposition[2]. Fortunately at this moment of professional crisis, Eiffel found a backer. The investor, railway builder, Channel Tunnel enthusiast and Unionist MP Sir Edward Watkin had invested a considerable amount of money in a complex of pleasure gardens, tea houses, athletic tracks and sporting facilities at Wembley, in north-west London, as a destination for workers’ excursions using his Metropolitan Line. By the early 1890s, the park’s new railway station was under construction[3]. Watkin, realising that the development badly needed an impressive centrepiece for its official opening and having heard of Eiffel’s plans, contacted in him September 1891 offering to commission his tower. At first, Eiffel demurred, telling his would-be benefactor that “My countrymen would not think me so good a Frenchman as I hope I am”[4]. However, Watkin persisted and by late October the engineer’s finances were in so parlous a state that he decided he had no choice but to take up the offer.
Construction began the following February and quickly ran into difficulties. As the foundations for the tower were laid it became apparent that the ground was unsuitable for Eiffel’s original design, necessitating the addition of a stone and concrete first storey and the reduction of the overall height by a hundred feet[5]. As Eiffel’s iron lattice began to stretch further into the sky above Wembley, the wrath of the urban intelligentsia descended on the project. Numerous newspapers condemned the tower as an eyesore, and one letter, signed by such luminaries as Lord Salisbury and the aged Henry Currey, Vice-President of the Royal Institute of British Architects, complained that “Stretching over the entire city, still thrilling with the genius of so many centuries, we shall see stretching out like a black blot the odious shadow of the odious column built up of riveted iron plates!”[6]
The tower was finally completed thirty-six months later in August 1894, largely ignored by a British public more interested in the war than the engineering feats of a Frenchman. Despite its achievement of being the tallest building in the world at that point, at 950ft[7], its first year of opening was a financial disaster, and Watkin even considered demolishing his crowning achievement to sell the iron used in its construction as scrap. It took until the summer of 1895 for the edifice, which had been opportunistically christened first the “Kitchener” and then the “Empire Tower” in an attempt to buy into post-war patriotism, to turn a profit; by then, it was a well-established landmark on the London skyline and has remained so ever since...”
(Taken from “The War of the Dual Alliance” by Douglas Fry, Hudson 1978)
“It is one of the strange ironies of history that although the Afghan campaign took thousands of lives, it ultimately saved many millions more. From June 1894 to his army’s withdrawal the following year, the military surgeon Peter Borovsky[8] was stationed in Herat, where he treated those Russian injured lucky enough to make it back through the badlands alive. Bokrovsky found himself intrigued, both by the traditional Russian peasant remedy of warm soil for infected wounds, and by the Uzbek cavalry’s habit of leaving their saddles in the warm darkness of the stable and treating their saddle sores with the fungus that resulted[9].
Bokrovsky’s wartime experiments involving Penicillium glaucum[10] were rushed and inconclusive; however, when he returned to Tashkent on the conclusion of hostilities, his persistence eventually paid off and in 1896 his paper “Contribution to the study of antagonism between moulds and microbes” was published in the Medical Newspaper of Russia. It was not for another decade that Bokrovsky’s discoveries were adapted for medical use; but with the discovery of the Hopkins[11] extraction method in 1904, the age of antibiosis[12] had dawned[13]...”
(Taken from “A History of Modern Europe, 1789-1936” by Frederick Carson, Picador 1960)
For much of the summer and early autumn of 1895, France saw a return to the days of the Consulate. The Clemenceau-Déroulède Government was a constituional abberation, and a strange experiment in politcal expediency. Their arrangement was never meant to be permanent; it was also not a form of government that lent itself to effective, or coherent governance. It did however serve exactly the purpose for which it was intended, and brought France much-needed stability, as well as space to rebuild the nation’s civil society. Between July and September, the two men frequently quarrelled, occasionally threatened to collapse the new regime, but held together out of lack of alternatives. As soon as the Treaty of Washington was signed in the middle of September, both parties gratefully relinquished office, and went to the people; the only thing that united them was their support for the Boulangist constitution, which for all its faults guaranteed governmental stability and avoided a re-opening of the perennial constitutional issue.
On October 31st, for the first time in seven years, the French public went to the polls to elect their President. Five candidates stood, the most prominent being Clemenceau, for the Radicals, and Déroulède for the right. During the campaign it had become increasingly obvious that Déroulède would stuggle to be victorious; the actions of Meyer and Dillon had left the French Right divided and their vote split, whereas the Left were resurgent, rejuvenated by their enforced exile and their biting criticism of the late General.
The election results were as expected; Clemenceau easily won the popular vote and so was elected to the French Presidency for a seven year term. Any fears of further tension were dissapated when Déroulède publicly conceded defeat and turned to providng a solid opposition to the Radicals in the National Assembly. The Boulangist era had drawn to a surprisingly peaceful conclusion; France’s Fourth Republic was now entrenched, and by and large would provide the nation with the stable government it had desired for almost a century…”
(Taken from “A History of the Dirigible” by Edward Jestice, in the Aeronautical Review, November 1976)
As the nineteenth century progressed, it became increasingly apparent that lighter-than-air flight was becoming not only plausible, but technologically feasible. Yet although the pioneers of the Airship- Giffard, Andrews, Haenlein, Wolfert- came from many countries, its eventual development as a feasible mode of transport remains inextricably linked to France and the French[14]. It is universally accepted that the father of the Drigibile was a French Army Captain named Charles Renard. After the French Government re-established its aeronautics research facility at Chalais Meudon in 1877, Renard, a graduate of the Ecole Polytechnique, began researching various means of powering an airship and ultimately decided that an electrical motor was the best option. Although at the time Army leaders expressed little interest in funding his design plans, Renard succeeded in 1881 in winning the support of the French Premier Leon Gambetta, who personally provided 400,00 francs for research and development.
By 1884 Renard, his brother Paul and another officer named Arthur Krebs had designed and constructed the first true dirigible, La France, which conducted a 5 mile free flight on 9th August that year. Although the power of her batteries limited her range, La France demonstrated that a dirigible was practical[15]... Although progress largely stalled for the next decade, the outbreak of war between Britain and France in 1894 stimulated renewed Governmental interest in a machine that might be able to cross the English Channel and evade the Royal Navy. Such hopes were groundless. While Renard and Krebs had accomplished prodigies with the resources given to them and had even begun the construction of a rigid wooden airframe, hostilities had ended before it could be completed. The political turmoil suffered by post-war France meant that the Government had more important things to consider than aviation, and Renard and Krebs’ funding soon dried up again. However, in 1896 the duo attracted the interest of the Panhard/Lavassor Company and were able to secure enough funding to complete Le France’s successor. Six months later, La Gloire, the first modern dirigible, flew for the first time[16]...”
(Taken from “Imperial Russia, from to Oboyan to Brussels” by James Monahan, Pagoda 1975)
“On January 6th, 1896, the Tsar descended the Jordan Staircase in the Winter Palace and led the solemn procession to the quay of the Neva, where he would perform the ancient Epiphany tradition of the ‘blessing of the waters’. The Imperial Party first took Mass in the palace chapel, and while they had concluded their devotions, church processions from all the St Petersburg Churches gathered by the Neva. Innumerable church banners and the gold-woven, brocaded robes of the clergy, shimmering in all the colours of the rainbow, made the palace quay into one huge church gathering under the watchful eye of the Imperial Army. It was the pinnacle of Tsarist ceremony and spectacle; a demonstration of the still-living spirit of the Muscovite empire that still lingered despite civil disturbance and military disaster.
The Tsar, surrounded by the higher military and civil authorities- the Tsarina, seven months pregnant, had been advised to stay indoors- followed the palace clergy and court church procession, descended to the quay, and entered under the canopy built on the ice of the river. While the court choir sang, the clergy lowered a cross into the waters of the Neva, and from the fortress of Sts Peter and Paul the guns saluted. Detonation after detonation rang out over the river. Then suddenly they were followed by another, more rolling and peculiarly warlike in sound. The mounted battery of the Preobrajensky Life Guard[17] appointed to fire the salute and stationed on the Vasilievsky Island across from the canopy on the river had fired- some said one, some said several- battle shells. Amidst screams and panic, the crowds fled the river bank; many were trampled on land, as sections of the ice gave way and deposited terrified onlookers into the freezing water[18].
Almost alone amongst the multitude, the Tsar did not panic, and instead calmly crossed himself before he too was pitched into the icy river. His immersion was brief, a few minutes only, before he was pulled out by concerned guardsmen. It was, however, to prove to be fatal. Instead of returning inside, the Tsar insisted in directing the rescue effort still dressed in his wet uniform. By evening, as it became clear that almost a hundred people had died in the panic, he was suffering from severe hypothermia; over the next few days he was bed-ridden and feverish, and just over a week after the incident he suddenly passed away from pneumonia…”
(Taken from “A History of Modern Europe, 1789-1936” by Frederick Carson, Picador 1960)
“The catastrophe on the Neva has never been adequately explained. Nobody was ever punished for their role in the disaster, no investigation was mounted into why genuine shells had been fired instead of blanks, and it was never even formally determined whether the firing was deliberate or accidental[19], although the official tale was that the event was a tragic mistake. The Tsar’s death left a vacuum at the head of Russian politics however, and even as a curtain appeared to descend on the exact circumstances of Nicholas’ death, the apparatus of state ground into action to anoint a successor.
On January 15th, the day of the Tsar’s funeral, the Grand Dukes of Russia met to decide on what path to take. Given the unsettled state of the country, it was clear that strong leadership was essential; at the same time though, both potential candidates for the Imperial Crown were clearly unable to take an active role in affairs of state. Under the Pauline Laws, the Grand Duke George, who was forced to live permanently in Georgia thanks to his chronic ill health[20] and was refused permission by his doctors even to attend his brother’s funeral, remained Tserarevich and might be expected to succeed Nicholas. However, the Tsarina was heavily pregnant, and the Pauline Laws made provision for posthumous succession; were the child to be a boy then the crown would rightfully pass to him. In either case, it was agreed that a regency of sorts would be required, for were he to inherit, the Grand Duke George would still need a trustworthy viceroy in St Petersburg to help calm the disturbed political situation. There was an obvious candidate; the Grand Duke Sergei, the late Tsar’s uncle and Governor of Moscow, an energetic and talented hardliner who had distinguished himself by his brutal suppression of the Boxer rising. Few expected the 39-year old to be more than a competent but undistinguished substitute for the Tsar; instead, as regent for the infant Tsar Vladimir he would dominate the Empire’s life for more than a generation, transforming Russia in the process…”
(Taken from “A History of Modern Europe, 1789-1936” by Frederick Carson, Picador 1960)
“The signing of the Treaty of Washington marked the end of an era in Great Power politics. As the Great Powers adapted themselves to the new realities- France and Russia humbled, and Britain in the ascendant but declining relative to Germany- the diplomatic deck was shuffled once again.
Perhaps the most important result of the Treaty was the gradual retreat of France into ‘splendid isolation’, fulfilling Bismarck’s dream of a neutralised Republic that did not seek to draw other Powers into anti-German alliance. While France certainly remained a Great Power, even with the significant ‘haircut’ the Republic had received at Washington, it had become painfully apparent that Paris could not prevail in a war against her most likely foes, even with the assistance of an ally. She had been comprehensively defeated in two wars by two major Powers; in 1871 it had been proved that French power on the continent was inferior to German might, while in 1895 it was demonstrated that an activist role in the wider world was also not be possible in the teeth of the Royal Navy. It was natural that the long-term result of this lesson was introspection. Although President Clemenceau, himself a passionate ‘revanche’, spent much of his term in office looking for allies, he was largely unsuccessful; Russia and Austria were increasingly in Germany’s orbit, while Italy remained implacably hostile so long as Francesco Crispi remained in place. Only Britain was willing to negotiate, and in the end, the desire for good relations with Berlin won out over French considerations. In consequence, increasingly French politicians found themselves making a virtue out of necessity and concentrating on commercial investment and the development and exploitation of the Empire, rather than the Alsatian question and adventures overseas.
While her former ally remained isolated, the Russian Empire quickly found itself welcomed back into the diplomatic fold. Faced with a restive population, increasingly assertive Asian neighbours and the need to consolidate and retrench, the Grand Duke Sergei, the Empire’s autocratic new regent, quickly reverted to the traditional policy of his brother Tsar Alexander and made a determined effort to improve relations with Berlin. Ironically enough, it was this very policy which would sow the first seeds of Anglo-German estrangement, and eventually in consequence lead to the British-Russian alignment of the late 1910s…”
(Taken from “Asia in the Age of Imperialism” by Stuart Leighton, Morley 1976)
“As Japan rushed colonists to the Trans-Amur and began to develop her new acquisitions, China, for so long under the stifling reactionary influence of the Imperial Court, began to stir. The relationship between the Dowager Empress and the Guangxu Emperor had become increasingly strained as the Emperor matured; now, having seen Japanese armies and ships able to defeat European forces in open battle, China’s scattered band of reformists realised that the Empire faced a stark choice between continued decline and eventual colonisation or national revival.
On October 16th 1895, the Guangxu Emperor issued an edict in which he emphasized the urgency of change. Threatened by external enemies who possessed “strong armours and crack troops”, China could no longer defend itself with ill-trained peasants, dwindling resources, unskilled craftsmen, and scholars ignorant of technology. Although unnamed, the 'enemies' were no mystery to anyone who had followed recent events[21]. For the next several months, the Emperor announced an impressive array of educational, economic, military, and administrative measures; some to address long-standing complaints such as the removal of the required, highly formulaic 'eight-legged essay' from the civil service examinations; some to promote economic change such as the creation of a new ministry in Peking to oversee innovations in agriculture, industry, and commerce; some to replace old practices with Western ones such as in the training and outfitting of troops; some to improve administrative efficiency such as the attempt to streamline the court bureaucracy and simplify government rules and regulations. Well-meaning, but overly anxious for quick results, the Emperor reacted aggressively when officials were slow in showing support for his policies. Governors who lagged behind were humiliated in Imperial decrees, obstructive subordinates were dismissed, and even Weng Tonghe, the grand councillor who had drafted the Emperor’s initial edict and an expert in smoothing the ruffled feathers of the civil service, almost fell a victim to an Imperial tantrum[22].
Cixi was not opposed to reform at first, nor poised to become its arch-enemy at the outset. Cautious but neutral, she actually acquiesced in adopting the dual emphasis on Western and Chinese learning in the October 16th edict. However, as the Emperor’s policies clashed with vested interests, there was inevitably discontent, even active resistance. The decision to streamline the vast court bureaucracy resulted in the sudden elimination of over 5,000 low-level jobs. A secret petition to the Empress, by the censor Yang Chongyi, marked the first major attack on the Emperor[23]. Yang hysterically accused the Emperor of nothing less than treason, in wanting to give the administration of the country over to foreigners. Yang identified a potential candidate in a German Colonel, Erich von Ludendorff, who was then on a visit to Peking as the Kaiser’s special envoy[24].
Yang's allegations were grave; Cixi was naturally alarmed, and two days later, to the surprise of everyone, an edict appeared in Guangxu's name to proclaim that Cixi would resume tutelage of him in government. The Dowager Emperess, however, had over-estimated the support that she maintained in the Imperial Grand Council; while the majority of the body supported her move, Weng Tonghe was skilfully able to exploit the few dissenters and prevent the political destruction of the reform movement[25]. A furious Emperor next turned to the general Yuan Shikai for aid, and in return for a string of powerful appointments, the Yuan consented to use his troops to enforce the Emperor’s will. On January 15th 1897 troops from the modernised Beiyang Army arrived in Peking to pre-empt any action by the conservative General Ronglu[26], and the Emperess was then forced into genuine retirement at her Summer Palace. With the political opposition largely neutralised, the Emperor’s reforms continued apace…”
(Taken from “The Encyclopaedia of World History” eds Lane and Carson 1981)
“TREATY OF AMAPALA: 1895 Treaty between El Salvador, Guatemala and Nicaragua agreeing to establish the Greater Republic of Central America, as an attempt to re-establish the United States of Central America that had collapsed in the 1840s[27]. The Republic was established as a Federation, with its capital at the Honduran town of Amapala, and was recognised by the United States in early 1896. In December 1896, General Tomás Regalado attempted to seize power in El Salvador and dissolve the union[28]; he was ousted by US Marines the following month in one of the last acts of President James Foraker, who had been convinced by the bankruptcy of the Panama Canal Company that an alternative route through Nicaragua was preferable[29] (see NICARAGUA CANAL)…”
(Taken from “The struggle for Africa” by Ian Gilroy, Star 1979)
The Treaty of Washington theoretically gave the United States responsibility, if not formal control, for a territory almost the size of Western Europe; this was, however, subject to the approval of the US Senate, which was dominated by Democrats with no love for the Foraker Administration. Had the arguments for and against the Treaty proceeded along partisan lines, there is no doubt whatsoever that the Foraker’s achievement, which the President, increasingly uncertain about his chances of re-election in the autumn, saw as his historical legacy, would have been negated. Luckily for the White House however, support for the Treaty ran entirely across traditional party allegiances, placing traditional southern Democrats such as Roger Mills and Edward Carmack[30] alongside Imperialist Republicans such as Redfield Proctor and even anti-Imperialists like George Frisbie Hoar. All had different, often contradictory, reasons for supporting the Treaty. Carmack, for example, saw the Congo as a potential dumping ground for American blacks, while John Foster[31], Foraker’s Secretary of State, successfully convinced Hoar that if America did not stand as protector for the Congo, it would be dismembered by Britain and Germany. In the end, despite severe disquiet in many quarters, the lack of a unifying figure for the opposition and President Foraker’s willingness to compromise on other areas allowed the Treaty to squeak through Congress with the necessary two-thirds majority- 59 to 27.
With the Treaty ratified, President Foraker’s next task was to find a suitable Governor for the Free State. This proved far more difficult then he expected; few men seemed willing to take on such a difficult, dangerous and uncomfortable task. It was rumoured that the President might be forced to engage a foreigner; Frederick Selous and Pierre de Brazza were both mentioned as candidates for the role. However, in February 1896, Foraker found his man. Theodore Roosevelt, the brash young reformer who had just ended his term as New York’s Police Commissioner, was not a household name, and had no experience in Africa. Yet President Foraker had been impressed with his accomplishments in New York, and realised that given the scale of the task they faced, any appointee would have to possess intelligence, absolute self-confidence, incorruptibility and a taste for adventure. Roosevelt, realising that his political ambitions would benefit from such a posting and having little desire to try and win national office in what was widely expected to be a ‘Democrat Year’, gratefully accepted the Governorship, initially for a two-year term…”
(Taken from ‘The Colossus and the King: The war between Cecil Rhodes and King Leopold’ by Thomas Gilbert, Picador 1986)
On September 20th 1896, ironically enough the feast of St Theodore, the Free State’s new Governor arrived in Leopoldville after a long and difficult march from Port Gordon. Travelling with Roosevelt was a small advance party, hand-picked by the Governor to form the nucleus of his new administration. Amongst others, it included Major Leonard Wood[32], a decorated military physician and future President who had been discharged from the US Army to serve as the new commander of the Force Publique, and the black Presbyterian Minister William Henry Sheppard[33], who had lived in the Congo for several years and had been asked to act as a local guide. It was the beginning of Roosevelt’s two-decade effort to pacify and reform the Free State which would consume almost every waking hour, much of his own personal wealth, and eventually his life. In the process it would also spawn a whole new literary and kinematic genre, the ‘Bongo’, immortalised and named by DW Griffith’s pioneering 1914 picture “The Curse of Um Bongo”.
It would have been easy to believe, as Roosevelt proudly took up the role previously filled by the likes of General Gordon, and promised “reform and humanity to all the Congo”, that King Leopold’s long struggle for control over the Congo had ended, and that in the battle between “Leo and Theo”, as some of the American press had it, there was now a victor. But Leopold had not yet been vanquished.
Before Roosevelt left for Africa, a far more significant front had been opened in the war for the Congo, a campaign fought in the courtrooms and parliaments of three continents. Roosevelt had realised that even military intervention and international treaties were insufficient to fully dislodge Leopold from his possession; in a real sense, Leopold was the Free State, and it would take a great effort to fully disentangle the two. Ever since the State’s foundation, the King’s treatment of the Congo as a personal possession meant that the Free State’s assets were often entirely indistinguishable from the King’s. Even worse, the vast majority of the money that rightfully belonged to the Free State was hidden in a labyrinthine network of secret bank accounts, dummy corporations and holding companies[34]. As Leopold still maintained that the Free State had been unlawfully taken from him, and resolutely refused to release money or information on where it was held, Roosevelt’s charge faced bankruptcy unless drastic action was taken.
The Governor, acutely conscious of the need for money, entrusted the task of recovering the Free State’s lost revenues to a young and upcoming corporate lawyer named Clarence Darrow, a noted progressive who had made his name acting for the Illinois railroads and for defending striking workers[35]. The combination of Darrow’s dogged determination and the willingness of several Governments, including Britain’s, to freeze Free State assets, enabled Roosevelt’s agents to recover just less than $1 million by the end of 1896. Yet this was merely a fraction of the true riches that Leopold had gained from his colony, a figure that some put as more than ten times that figure[36]…
The legal quagmire only ended in June 1898, when the elderly King, by now roundly despised by most of his subjects and his Government, was assassinated by an Italian anarchist named Lucheni[37] while taking the waters at Carlsbad. King Phillip, his brother and successor[38], had no desire to continue the endless struggle. Having seen the booing of the late King’s funeral cortege[39] and knowing that his crown depended on the rehabilitation of the Belgian monarchy, he instructed his lawyers to track down every franc of Leopold’s Congolese fortune, and once this was accomplished allegedly returned it all to the Free State; an arrangement that still made him a handsome profit through the interest gained on the deposits, even if he had not, as was widely rumoured, kept a generous portion of the money for the crown…”
(Taken from “The struggle for Africa” by Ian Gilroy, Star 1979)
The reform of the Congo was to be a Herculean task. The vast area put under Roosevelt’s control was united in name only; in some areas, officials still had not heard of the change in management, while in others, Force Publique officers anxious about prosecution on their return or the confiscation of their looted assets elected to ‘go native’ and carve out their own empires in the jungle. More seriously, the ongoing legal battle to secure the State’s assets from King Leopold meant that Roosevelt was entirely dependent on trade revenue; revenue that itself was largely dependent on the very practices that he had been appointed to stamp out.
Roosevelt’s solution was to ‘eat the elephant’, as he termed it, following the aphorism that one should eat a large meal one bite at a time. He decided to enact reform by stages to protect the Free State’s income and gradually expand his Government’s control over the whole country; as a result, in October 1896 he divided the Congo into three zones, running roughly east to west and based on proximity to Leopoldville. Roosevelt’s plan was to concentrate on each zone in turn, leaving the remote south and west until last and initially focusing on the lower Congo, which was more easily influenced and also more open to foreign visitors[40] whom might report favourably on improvements.
To ease the suffering of the natives, reduce the endemic looting of local villages and to improve production, Roosevelt attempted to establish a plantation economy. Before 1897, all rubber exported from the Congo was taken from jungle vines, which the natives cut and allowed the contents to coagulate on their bodies. Roosevelt imported rubber trees from Brazil to gradually replace this practice, encouraged diversification into products such as fruit, peanuts and coffee, and beginning in 1898, inviting corporations such as the Boston Fruit Company[41] and Firestone Rubber to set up operations in the Free State. To further reduce exploitation of the natives, Roosevelt attempted to recruit black civil servants from America, initiating the famous ‘Roosevelt Scholarships’ at institutions such as Tuskegee University to encourage able blacks into the service of the Free State. At first, this experiment was a failure; local blacks saw the Americans simply as ‘black white men’[42] and many blacks saw their charges as savages. Over time however, especially after the beginning of migration to the Free State in the 1910s, the link between the USA and the Congo loomed increasingly large in the development of black consciousness… “
(Taken from “American Presidential Elections” by Frank Farmer, Dickinson 1957)
The 1896 election was one of unexpected outcomes. President Foraker, exhausted after endless wrangling with Congress over the Congo Free State Treaty and hobbled by the ongoing economic depression, looked to many like a lame duck candidate, yet his numerous opponents within the Republican could not coalesce around an alternative, and was overly cautious about adopting a progressive platform. At the Republican National Convention in Cleveland, to the surprise of many, President Foraker was able to secure the nomination without challenge.
By contrast, when the Democratic National Convention assembled in Chicago that summer, it was clear that a populist candidate would be nominated; the frontrunner was the long-serving and highly successful Governor of Iowa, Horace Boies[43]. It quickly became apparent however that Boies had been complacent; a relative unknown named William Jennings Bryan, a Senator from Nebraska[44], took the convention by storm with a passionate speech on the economic crisis[45], and on the fourth ballot he defeated Boies and secured the Democratic nomination, choosing the popular former Governor of Texas, Jim Hogg[46], as his running-mate. It was widely assumed that Bryan would cruise to an easy victory over the unfortunate Foraker. In the event though, the President, aided by the often-hysterical portrayal of Bryan as a Socialist by some in the press, was able to recover some momentum, and the election was closer then many expected. Nonetheless, the Democratic ticket still received a respectable, if small majority in the Electoral College, Bryan winning 228 electoral votes to Foraker’s 217[47]…”
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[1] This, of course, is OTL’s Eiffel Tower.
[2] The exposition occurred OTL as well, celebrating the 400th anniversary of Columbus’ discovery of the Americas.
[3] This is all OTL; Wembley Park was designed as a suburban getaway for inner-city Londoners, and the modern tube station opened in 1894.
[4] This was Eiffel’s reaction IOTL to Watkin’s request to build a taller copy of the existing tower.
[5] Similar problems were encountered when Watkin tried to build his tower IOTL, although ITTL the presence of Eiffel ensures the project does not stall. The overall effect of these alterations is to make TTL’s tower a little more similar to the New Brighton Tower.
[6] This was how the Eiffel Tower was criticised OTL upon its construction.
[7] OTL’s Eiffel Tower is 1063ft.
[8] Bokrovsky was an eminent surgeon OTL in both the Tsarist and Soviet eras, and was best known for his pioneering research into Oriental Sores. ITTL the war has disrupted his work and brought him further south from Tashkent to Afghanistan.
[9] Both techniques were folk remedies OTL; the latter inspired Ernest Duschesne to write a sadly-neglected paper on the subject in 1897.
[10] This is not the same strain of Penicillium used by Fleming in his experiment; this has the advantage that Typhoid will also be affected by *Penicillin ITTL as well.
[11] This is a similar process as that developed by Howard Florey IOTL. It is named for Frederick Hopkins, who OTL received the Nobel Prize for his discovery of vitamins.
[12] TTL’s term for Antibiotics.
[13] OTL it took until Fleming and the mid 1940’s for this to happen, but there was no reason it could not have occurred in the late 19th century instead...
[14] Airships are regarded as being as French ITTL as they are German OTL.
[15] All of this is OTL; Renard never progressed much beyond this point however, and eventually committed suicide in 1905.
[16] ITTL the Count Zeppelin is something of a historical footnote; his designs are not taken up upon by the German Government, and he dies in obscurity.
[17] The Preobrajensky’s Commander in Chief was the Grand Duke Sergei, interestingly enough…
[18] This almost happened OTL during the 1905 ceremony, but fortunately the shot went long and hit the Winter Palace instead of the ice. No satisfactory explanation was ever given for the incident.
[19] The incident IOTL was strangely hushed-up as well.
[20] George had the same problems OTL and eventually died in 1899 at the age of 28.
[21] This is how the Emperor kicked off OTL’s “Hundred Days reform” as well.
[22] OTL Weng was dismissed; ITTL the pace is slightly slower and less urgent than OTL, as China is rather stronger and does not have to worry about the flurry of ‘unequal treaties’ imposed upon it in the last years of OTL’s 19th century. Weng will be instrumental in keeping more cautious officials onside.
[23] This was the case OTL as well.
[24] Ludendorff was a promising officer OTL and ITTL, and was appointed to the German General Staff in 1894. The Kaiser has sent him on a tour of Asia as part of his general fascination for all things Asian, an enthusiasm he did not share OTL.
[25] OTL the Emperor’s breakneck pace and the lack of Weng to calm things down meant that the Council were implacably opposed to the reform; TTL’s slightly softer approach has smoothed out some of this hatred though, although by no means all.
[26] IOTL Yuan betrayed the rebels; ITTL he knows which way the wind is blowing and stays loyal.
[27] The Treaty was signed OTL.
[28] Regalado was successful IOTL and dissolved the Republic, restoring El Salvadorean independence; ITTL the USMC chases him out and the Greater Republic of Central America remains as a US ally, mainly for the purposes of the construction of a Nicaraguan Canal.
[29] Why Nicaragua? It was seriously considered IOTL, and ITTL as the French effort is even more of a mess, the amount of construction work needed to complete their attempt is not grossly exaggerated as OTL.
[30] Carmack was a Tennessee Senator, who IOTL was appointed in 1901 but ITTL comes into national politics sooner. He was a violent racist who was involved in several lynchings, and after leaving office was gunned down in spectacular fashion over a feud.
[31] Foster, a professional diplomat, was Benjamin Harrison’s Secretary of State in 1892-3. Foraker chooses him for similar reasons.
[32] ITTL just as OTL, Wood has ended up as personal physician to the President; this leads to his introduction to Roosevelt and his eventual appointment.
[33] Sheppard was best known IOTL for his work publicising the Congolese atrocities, and lived for many years amongst the Bakuba people. He is a natural choice as a local guide and go-between with the natives.
[34] This was how Leopold operated IOTL; it will be a massive undertaking to track all of his money down.
[35] Darrow had made his name as a lawyer for the Chicago & Northwestern Railway Company, and ITTL just as OTL had just defended Eugene Debs over the Pullman strike of 1894. He sees the Free State job as another means of gaining publicity in a good cause.
[36] Leopold was reputed to have made $17 million from his acquisition of the Congo; however, ITTL he is in charge for a shorter period and makes rather less.
[37] Lucheni was the murderer of the Empress Elizabeth OTL; ITTL he picks a different, and frankly more deserving, target.
[38] OTL Phillip never saw the throne as he predeceased Leopold; his son, Albert, did become King of Belgium however.
[39] Leopold’s funeral was booed IOTL too.
[40] This, broadly speaking, was the Belgian strategy post 1908 as well.
[41] Boston Fruit was the corporate forerunner of the infamous United Fruit, which ITTL will be more interested in Africa than Central America.
[42] William Henry Sheppard had much the same experience in the Congo, until he gradually integrated himself into local society.
[43] OTL Boies, a populist and bimetallist was defeated in 1894 and did not have the clout to do well at the convention; ITTL though, thanks to differing political cycles he is defeated in 1892 and re-elected in 1894, ensuring he has a springboard for the Presidency.
[44] Bryan wins his senate bid IOTL as 1894 is a Republican rout.
[45] Bryan makes his “cross of gold” speech just as OTL; it serves him just as well.
[46] ITTL, as OTL, Hogg served as Governor of Texas from 1891 and 1895. He was a popular national figure who spoke at several Democratic Conventions on Bryan’s behalf.
[47] OTL William McKinley beat Bryan handily, although not as heavily as the Electoral map might suggest. ITTL the indifferent Republican record in office serves to give Bryan the boost he needs.
