1904

The Wright brothers.

February 6: On this day a group of powerful Jewish bankers meets at the Fifth Avenue mansion of Jacob Schiff, a German immigrant to this country, and perhaps the most powerful financier in America. 

The topic for discussion is the looming war between Japan and Russia. Schiff hoped that financing Japan might bring down the czar, and end the pogroms so common under his rule. 

It is agreed that the men will work to help Japan, and “work with all their might,” to block monies for Russia, “so long as existing conditions continue.” 

This comes from a review of a book: The Money Kings: The Epic Story of the Jewish Immigrants Who Transformed Wall Street and Shaped Modern America.

 

(The following year, The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, “the canonical work of Jew-hating conspiracy theory, is published in Russia.)

 

* 

Spring (possibly): In The New York Times book reviews, we learn the charming story of a young man – and his neighbor across a street – in love.

 

One day in 1904, Grace Goodhue looked out the window. In the building across the street, she saw a man shaving while wearing long underwear and a derby hat to keep his hair out of his eyes. She laughed so loud that he heard her and so, to apologize, she sent him a potted plant. They began trading cheerful letters, back and forth across the street, nearly every day. In one, he thanks her for sharing some candy with him. In another, he invites her on a sleigh ride. In a third, he makes an apology that isn’t an apology at all.

 

“I really didn’t mean to call on you last night, but when I saw you sitting in the window, I couldn’t help it. If you don’t want to tempt me you best keep out of sight.”

As the reviewer notes, that young man in love is Calvin Coolidge, not known for his shows of emotion as president. Calvin is 31. Grace is 25.

*

The Wright brothers are ignored. 

THE WRIGHT BROTHERS return to Ohio to try to improve their craft. At first, they fail to get their plane in the air. 

NOTE TO TEACHERS: In a reading I prepared for my students, I explained how they were ignored, even after their first successful flights.

 

Then, gradually, interest perked up. And a second problem developed. Orville and Wilbur had suddenly become secretive. They knew how much more they had to learn about flying, and they hoped to sell their invention. So they refused to give out pictures or details about their plane. Even reporters who were interested in what the men were up to were turned away. The brothers knew they weren’t ready to tell the world their story because they still had too much work to do.

 

     Nor were they finished with their hard work and the frustration that went with it. In May 1904, they failed to fly with witnesses in attendance. Differences in temperature and air between Kitty Hawk, N.C. and Ohio were the problem. The Wrights didn’t know that and looked foolish. (In December 1904, as cooler air arrived, they managed one flight of three miles.) The U. S. government continued to ignore them. Several times they tried to sell their invention. As late as 1905, the attitude in Washington seemed to be “you haven’t proved you can fly, yet!” A deal with the French government also fell through; and most reporters continued to ignore them.

 

Story missed! The world still doesn't realize what Orville and Wilbur have done.

Flying in Ohio, December 1904.

*

 

AN ENTRY for “Aëronautics,” or Aërial Navigation, in an encyclopedia published in 1904, contains no mention of Orville and Wilbur Wright. 

 

It reads:

 

Men have tried to navigate the air in two different ways. One of these is to construct a body whose average density is so much less than that of air that the body will rise, lifting not only itself but a considerable load besides. These bodies are known as “balloons.” The other method is to construct a body – a machine – of material much denser than air, yet supplied with energy sufficient to lift itself and to propel itself in the air. Such bodies are known as “flying machines.”

 

…

 

We pass now to the second and more hopeful method of aerial navigation. The problem here is to construct a machine which shall contain within itself a supply of energy not only sufficient to lift itself above the ground, but also to propel itself through the air. The ablest students of this problem have abandoned all hope of successfully imitating the bird: the model is too complicated. Accordingly, they have concentrated their study upon driving through the air at high speed a thin, light plane, having its forward edge higher than its rear edge, and supporting beneath it the engine which propels it. Such a device is called by Langley and “aërodrome.”

 

If a railway car had opened sides and a plane roof, sloping from the front to the rear, it is evident that the faster the car is driven forward the greater will be the tendency to lift off the roof of the car.

 

Imagine now, that the car is very light but strong, that it contains a light but powerful engine, and that the light, sloping roof is strong enough to support the entire car and its contents; you will then have in mind the type of flying machine which has been recently (1894) constructed by Maxim in England and improved by Langley in America.

 

Maxim has succeeded in building condensing engines of more than 300 horse-power, which yet way less than six pounds to the horse-power; while Langley’s engine, exhausting its steam into the air, weighs approximately one pound to the horse-power.

 

By experiments upon a rapidly moving inclined plane, called an “aëroplane,” Professor Langley, showed that the efficiency of such a plane in supporting such a weight increases very rapidly with its speed. The more rapidly a skater moves, the thinner may the ice be which will just support him. So, also, the inertia of the air is more effective upon an aëroplane which has driven very rapidly through it.

 

Among the unsolved problems in the mechanics of flight the following may be mentioned; from these it will be evident how far the problem yet stands from practical solution: –

 

1.     A steam or other engine strong enough and light enough to sustain, besides its own weight, the weight of the aëroplane, of the engineer, of fuel and of water.

2.     A method of safe launching and alighting.

3.     A method of certainly controlling the course of the aërodrome. The student of this subject will do well to consult Langley’s Aërodynamics, Smithsonian Contributions, 1891; Also Internal Work of the Wind by the same author, ibid. 1893.

 

In the Century magazine for January, 1895, Sir Hiram Maxim gives a very lucid presentation of the problem, under the title, A New Flying Machine.

 

Very recently M. Santos-DuMont, a Brazilian working in Paris, has successfully equipped a large balloon with a powerful oil engine, a propeller and a rudder. By means of shifting ballast the engine is made to drive the balloon either up or down, as well as straight ahead. This hybrid apparatus which is known as a “dirigible” belongs essentially to the class of balloons and is not a true flying machine. Santo-Dumont’s most remarkable achievement, up to the present (1903) came in the summer and autumn of 1901 when he repeatedly encircled the Eiffel Tower in Paris. (Student’s Reference Work: A Cyclopedia, Vol. I, edited by Charles B. Beach and Graeme Mercer Adam, The Howard-Severance Co. [Philadelphia and Chicago, 1904])

* 

June 15: Disaster strikes. That morning,

 

the steamer General Slocum left her pier in Brooklyn, with 2,500 excursionists – mostly women and children of Saint Mark's parish – for a day’s outing on an island in Long Island Sound. When off the 138th Street, New York, some fat boiled over in the gallery, the cooks fled, and a burst of flame shot up. Instead of immediately beaching the boat, the captain pressed up stream with all speed, thus fanning the flames, which were driven to the stern and speedily wrapped the steamer from end to end. There was no discipline among the crew, and all engaged in a desperate struggle for life. The life preservers were too few in number, and most of them were worthless. Hundreds leaped overboard and were drowned, while others stayed on board and were roasted to death. The Slocum was consumed with incredible quickness, having beached herself, and, before the city knew of the awful calamity, over one thousand persons had died the most agonizing of deaths. (33/2202-2203)

 

*

 

OTA BENGA, a man from the Congo, was presented at the St. Louis World Fair as an African pygmy. Two years later he was brought to New York City and locked in a cage with an orangutan, for viewing by laughing crowds. “The low evolutionary status of a monkey-man was supposed to persuade the masses who were resistant to Darwin and evolutionary theory.” (NYT Review of Books; 6-7-15)

 

Protests did develop – and Benga became increasingly reluctant to do what he was told.

 

He was eventually freed, adopted by African-American communities in Brooklyn and later Lynchburg, Virginia.

 

In 1916, still homesick, he put a bullet through his heart.

 

* 

MORE THAN A THOUSAND CASES of typhoid fever are linked to “Typhoid Mary” Mallon, who works in a number of restaurants.

 

* 

GERONIMO appears as part of the St. Louis World’s Fair. The once-feared warrior gets a makeover.

 

* 

AN IMMIGRANT from Poland, Makysmilian Faktorwicz, arrives in America and soon heads for Hollywood. He sells made-to-order wigs and theatrical makeup to actors, as the film industry begins to boom. Now known as Max Factor, he applies the makeup to different actors personally, and customizes to meet their needs. Ten years later, he will develop his first real cosmetic product, a kind of “flexible greasepaint,” which was soon in high demand.

 

*

 

SANTO DOMINGO defaults on its foreign debt, and President Theodore Roosevelt declares that the U.S. must act as “an international police power” in the Western Hemisphere. This is known as the Roosevelt Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine. (1127/52)

 

*

 

“Perhaps your objections are merely prejudices.”

 

IN THE BOOK, Her Infinite Variety by Brand Whitlock, set in Illinois, we get a sense of the thinking of this era, in regards to suffrage for women. At one point, the main female character, Miss Maria Greene, speaks to Senator Vernon about an effort to grant female suffrage. 

 

“But about this resolution, Senator Vernon; I must not take up too much of your time. If you will give me your objections to it perhaps I may be able to explain them away. We should very much like to have your support.”

 

Vernon scarcely knew what to reply; such objections as he might have found at other times – the old masculine objections to women’s voting and meddling in politics – had all disappeared at the site of this remarkable young woman who wished to vote herself; he could not think of one of them, try as he would. His eyes were on the rose [which she has given him].

 

“Perhaps your objections are merely prejudices,” she ventured boldly, in her eyes a latent twinkle that disturbed him.

 

“I confess, Miss Greene,” he began, trying to get back something of his senatorial dignity, such as state senatorial dignity is, “that I have not devoted much thought to the subject; I am indeed rather ashamed to acknowledge that I did not even know the amendment was coming up to-day, until I was – ah – so delightfully reminded by your rose.

 

He raised the rose to inhale its fragrance. She made no reply, but she kept her eyes on him, and her gaze compelled him to go on. (9/31-32)

 

The problem women face, in part, is laid out by an older doctor, in another scene. He starts ticking off limitations faced by the weaker sex, noting, “In thirty-seven states the married mother has no right to her children; in sixteen the wife has no right to her own earnings; in eight she has no separate right to her property; in seven – ” (9-66)

 

Later, Miss Greene is asked if she believes women want the right to vote. While she herself wishes for the right, she understands not all women do. “I’m afraid not,” she replies. “They could have the ballot to-morrow if they’d only ask for it. The trouble is they don’t want it.” (9-83)

 

One morning, Senator Vernon is accosted by a society matron, Mrs. Hodge-Lathrop. She speaks of “iconoclastic days,” and says she hesitates to “go into revolting details.” Then she makes it clear. She opposes female suffrage, as do all her wealthy society friends, gathered for breakfast around her.

 

Vernon feels his anger growing. At the same time, he’s conscious that the lovely Miss Greene is “looking at him” when he replies.

 

“Well, then, alright,” said Vernon, “I don’t know what I’ve done. All I have done has been to champion a measure – and I may add, without boasting, I hope, with some success – all I have done has been to champion a measure which was to benefit your sex, to secure your rights, to – ”

 

“Morley!” Mrs. Overman Hodge-Lathrop said, cutting him short. “Morley, have you indeed fallen so low? It is incomprehensible to me, that a young man who had the mother you have, who had the advantages you have had, who was born and bred as you were, should so easily have lost his respect for women!”

 

“Lost my respect for women!” cried Vernon, and then he laughed. “Now, Mrs. Hodge-Lathrop,” he went on with a shade of irritation in his tone, “this is too much!”

 

Mrs. Overman Hodge-Lathrop was calm.

 

“Have you shown her any respect?” she went on. “Have you not, on the contrary, said and done everything you could, to drag her down from her exalted station, to pull her to the earth, to bring her to a level with level with men, to make her soil herself with politics, by scheming and voting and caucusing and buttonholing and wire-pulling? You would have her degrade and unsex herself by going to the polls, to caucuses and conventions; you would have her, no doubt, in time, lobbying for and against measures in the council chamber and the legislature.”

 

The women gathered around the table nod in support of Mrs. Hodge-Lathrop. “And if that were not enough,” she adds, “we come her to plead with you and find you hobnobbing with that mannish thing, that female lawyer!”

 

She then assures Sen. Vernon that she and the others plan to march down to the State House after breakfast and lay before the lawmakers their case.

 

“And now, Morley Vernon, listen to me,” she said, as if he were about to hear the conclusion of the whole matter. “If you have any spark of honor left in you, you will undo what you have already done. This resolution must be defeated in the Senate to-day; I am down here to see that it is done. We go to the State House after breakfast, and these ladies will assist me in laying before each member of the Senate this matter in its true and exact light. As for our rights,” she paused and looked at him fixedly, “as for our rights, I think we are perfectly capable of preserving them.” (9/117-122)

 

Morley and Amelia, the woman with whom he’s in love, meet one day in a hotel lobby and take a seat. He grasps Amelia’s hand briefly. She removes hers quickly since it would not be respectable to hold his longer. At one point, Sen. Vernon expresses exasperation with the battle in the legislature.

 

“God knows,” he suddenly exclaimed, “I was only trying to do something worthy – for your sake!”

 

“Please don’t swear,” Morley,” Amelia said.

 

He looked up swiftly.

 

“Well – ”  he began explosively, but didn’t continue. He relapsed into a moody silence. (9/131-132)

 

The bill for suffrage is defeated in the end – in part because Vernon misses the vote, because he’s spending time with Amelia. Mrs. Hodge-Lathrop later makes it clear it was part of her plan to send Amelia to meet him and defeat the measure. Vernon is disappointed, but Amelia seems more in love with him than ever.

 

The book ends with a moment of jealousy, as Amelia watches Miss Maria Greene exit from the hotel elevator, and realizes that Morley believes the female lawyer to be, in not beautiful, “handsome,” as he admits.

 

Amelia intimates that Maria dyes her hair, and asks, finally, if the senator is disappointed in the defeat of suffrage, and the fact that he missed the vote in part because of her. “Anyway, dear heart,” Amelia whispers as they stand up to leave, “remember this – that you did it all for me.” (Page numbers are from my old copy, which I cut out, before tossing the book away.)

Amelia and Sen. Vernon in the hotel lobby.