When Grandpa Was A Boy, Were There Any Dinosaurs?

Tag archive: 1902

Death And Destruction On Martinique

Postcard depiction of the town of Saint-Pierre after the eruption of Mount Pelée

1902: Throughout the last week of April and the first week of May, underground detonations shook Mount Pelée, on the Caribbean island of Martinique. The volcano belched smoke and showered ash on the nearby town of Saint-Pierre. At 8 o’clock on the morning of 8 May the side of the volcano ripped open, and a cloud of superheated gas, ash and rock spewed out, hurtled down the mountainside and engulfed Saint-Pierre. The town and its inhabitants were incinerated. Out of a population of 26,000, only two survived: Léon Compère-Léandre, a cobbler, and Louis-Auguste Sylbaris, who had been incarcerated in the solitary confinement cell of the town jail.

Source: Alwyn Scarth, La Catastrophe: Mount Pelée and the Destruction of Saint-Pierre, Martinique (2002), pp. 112–21, 127–8, 183–9

Bob’s Your Uncle

Arthur James Balfour

1902: Who’s your uncle? If your name’s Arthur Balfour, Bob’s your uncle. During the late 1880s and 1890s, Robert Gascoyne-Cecil, 3rd marquess of Salisbury, used his position as prime minister to appoint his nephew to a series of important government posts. And when Salisbury resigned as prime minister in 1902, Balfour stepped effortlessly into his shoes.

Source: Andrew Roberts, Salisbury: Victorian Titan (1999), p. 827

High Jinks

Italian operatic tenor Enrico Caruso

1902: Enrico Caruso sang alongside Nellie Melba in La Bohème at Covent Garden. Caruso was a great practical joker. When he reached the aria “Che gelida manina” (“How cold your little hand is; let me warm it for you.”), Caruso placed a hot sausage in Melba’s hand.

Source: Howard S. Greenfield, Caruso: An Illustrated Life (1991), p. 50

Expendable Animals

1902: At the end of the Boer War, a British Royal Commission calculated that 400,346 horses, mules and donkeys had died during the 2½ years of fighting. Or as the War Office put it, had been “expended”.

Source: Thomas Pakenham, The Boer War (1979), p. 607

Roosevelt’s Lithp

1902: “Dearest Mama . . . After lunch I went to the dentist, and am now minus my front tooth,” wrote Harvard undergraduate Franklin Roosevelt on 19 May. “He cut it off very neatly and painlessly, took impressions of the root and space, and is having the porcelain tip baked. I hope to have it put on next Friday, and in the meantime I shall avoid all society, as I talk with a lithp and look like a thight.”

One week later: “My tooth is no longer a dream, it is an accomplished fact. It was put in on Friday and is perfect in form, color, lustre, texture, etc. I feel like a new person and have already been proposed to by three girls.”

Source: Franklin Delano Roosevelt, The Roosevelt Letters: Being the Personal Correspondence of Franklin Delano Roosevelt: Early Years (1887–1904), ed. Elliott Roosevelt (1949), pp. 408–9