At the beginning of Edward VII’s nine year reign, the motorcar was simply a status symbol that only the very rich could afford to purchase and maintain. The horse, generally cheaper and familiar to the population, continued to dominate everyday travel and transportation, but by 1910, equine transport had become almost obsolete.

The manufacture of motorcars originated in France and Germany in the 1880s, where Continental inventors experimented with the internal combustion engine. Engineers such as Edmund Benz, Gottlieb Daimler, Nikolaus Otto, Wilhelm Maybach, and Alphonse Beau de Rochas developed and patented a variety of engines during the 1860s through 1880s, but the promise of the motorcar did not bear fruition until the mid-1880s, when Edmund Benz designed a “four-stroke engine that was used in his automobiles, which were developed in 1885, patented in 1886, and became the first automobiles in production.” Gottlieb Daimler, a German engineer, patented his own version in 1885, and further production of engines for self-propelled vehicles continued into the early-1890s.

The modern automobile was built in France by Panhard et Levassor in 1890. This model had its engine in the front under a bonnet (hood), a chassis (body) much like the chassis of today, a sliding gear transmission, clutch and pedal breaks and a foot accelerator. Panhard had serious competition from Peugeot, also French, and a growing number of European and American manufacturers during the first half of the 1890s. Meanwhile, Britain’s development of comparable technology was paralyzed by the Red Flag Act of 1865. Its crippling clause–”Any vehicle on the public highway, other than a horse-drawn vehicle, must be preceded by a man carrying a red flag in day and a red lantern at night, to warn oncoming traffic of the vehicle behind him.”–had been placed into affect by the railroads, who wished to halt the rising popularity of the steam-cars in the 1850s.

Because of the presence of the flag-carrying man, the speed limit was restricted to four to five miles per hour, a crawling pace that was bound to discourage any sporting gentleman. In 1895, the Honorable Evelyn Ellis brought his French-made 4 hp Panhard machine to England in defiance of the act, and when it was repealed in 1896 and the speed limit increased to fourteen miles per hour, new motor enthusiasts commemorated the repeal of the hated Red Flag Act with a London to Brighton run on November 14th of that year.

While the original English motorists were typically wealthy sportsman, it wasn’t until Edward VII took up motoring (with relish) that the motorcar began to gain precedence over the horse and carriage with the Marlborough House Set. The King owned several automobiles, all painted in his own royal claret color, which he took for speedy drives up and down country roads. He was an impatient and excited driver, loudly encouraging his chauffeur to pass everything and everyone on the road, regardless of their speed, size and status. It was a very frequent occurrence for a waggon lumbering down a road to Sandringham to be upset due to the careless speed of the King of England. However, he always politely proclaimed oncoming traffic of his imminent arrival with the honk of his four-key hornet horn, which the superintendent of the royal cars, who sat in front, had to play as the king’s car zoomed along.

Surprisingly, he refused to allow his wife, Queen Alexandra, to own a motor of her own. It was only after Alexandra borrowed motors from friends, much to the anxiety of the Court, that Edward was eventually persuaded to allow her an automobile of her own. Alexandra was the original backseat driver, growing notorious for prodding her driver violently in the back with her parasol, shouting directions and “helpful” orders whenever a dog, or child, or anything else crossed their way.

The Queen’s ownership of a motorcar made the machine imminently respectable, and many women took to the sport with as much alacrity as their male counterparts. The Baroness Campbell von Laurentz for example, took up motoring in 1900 and soon began to travel widely, contributing articles to such publications as Car Illustrated, Autocar, Ladies’ Field, and Heart and Home. The baroness, indefatigable in her love for the sport, was also an inventor, designing her own solution to the problem of transporting luggage in a car that provided accommodation to passengers alone that plagued all early motorists. She designed two square fiber boxes to fit on the luggage grid at the rear. They went on the grid with “a piece of canvas underneath and over the top, a tailored cover in proofed canvas, leather-bound.” Following in the footsteps of the baroness were Mrs. Bernard Weguelin, Mrs. Claude Watney and Miss Mee of Chichester Cathedral, who, in 1905, became the first lady to pass “the examination in driving and general proficiency set by the Royal Automobile Club for the owners of cars.”

Due to the absence of hoods or windscreens, motoring called for special clothing. Fabrics such as tweed and cloth were out, for the wind whipped them out into balloons. Loose topcoats in leather, or special motoring coats from Burberry or Aquascutum acted as protection from weather and cold, with the stipulation that the coats should button closely around the wrist. For women, long fur-lined leather or cloth coats for winter and long linen or alpaca dust coats for summer were preferred. Oil smuts could be a problem so women wore flat hats tied on with large, thick veils. For men, double-breasted reefer jackets, buttoned high with small turn down collars, wind cuffs with straps, trousers bound tightly around the ankles, and yachting cap and gloves. For the winter, leather coats, helmets and fur-lined coats and twill holland or silk dust coats were recommended. During a bout of rain, experts advised the adoption of a garment shaped like a bell tent, from which the rain would run. Goggles were also a must.

Socially, the motorcar increased the amount of time spent on leisure activities. No longer were weekend parties hasty, hectic affairs as the motorcar allowed parties to speed from London to the countryside for what hostesses fondly called “Saturday-to-Mondays”. Affairs were carried about more easily, as a wife or husband was now able to drive to a quick rendezvous with a lover in an inn or tavern and back before their unsuspecting spouse could comment upon their absence. General travel was made easier not only by the motorcar, but also by the increased network of tramways that made the countryside more available to Londoners, while railroads, ever vigilant, ran seaside excursions. Enthusiastic motorists added another form of leisure to the motorcar in the guise of touring. Countless books were published between the years 1896 and 1914, recounting motor tours in both remote and accessible places like the Hebrides and France, as well as in places uncharted by the motorcar, such as Tunisia, China or Siberia. This new form of holidaying was incorporated into the itineraries of trusted travel agents such as Thomas Cook & Son among others, who provided maps of possible touring routes as well as the locations of petrol stations.

Soon, the 1900s became the era of speed. The first motorcar race was held in 1894, and was quickly followed by the establishment of Grand Prix from Le Mans, France to Daytona Beach, Florida, where, in 1904, Willie K. Vanderbilt, Jr. clocked up to 92 mph in his 90 hp Mercedes. The Peking-Paris race of 1907 was won by the journalist Barzini, the Prince Borghese, and the mechanic Ettore Guizzardi, who drove an Italian model called the Itala. Despite the success of British drivers in the early races, the sport was impossible on the British Isles since racing on public roads was illegal. This caused British drivers to race on the Continent or in Ireland (i.e. the Gordon Bennett race of 1903). Hugh Locke-King, a wealthy landowner, was aided by a group of wealthy friends to propose the construction of a racing course. The result was Brooklands track, a huge oval circuit with banked corners. Work was completed in 1907, and the world had its first purpose built race-track. Other nations would soon follow suit.

The motorcar also introduced a new lexicon of terminology into the English language. One kept one’s car not in a garage, which was French and therefore rather naughty, but in a motor stable. A driver was not yet called a chauffeur, but a mechanic, for he often doubled as an actual mechanic as most motoring gentlemen found it beneath them to tinker beneath the bonnet. It also altered the patterns of servants and functions of the home, which had remained unchanged for centuries. Stablehands and coachmen were either pensioned off or taught to drive, while mews were either converted into motor stables or into small, attractive residences, and horses were sold and carriages dismantled.

As with everything, there was a dark side to the motorcar. A dark, expensive side. Early motoring demanded both time and money–Money because motoring was an expensive occupation, while time was needed for running repairs, not only for a succession of tyre punctures, but for the continual mechanical faults of varying severity. A motorist who drove on a daily basis could spend at least an hour a day cleaning, oiling and adjusting. Tyres cost ₤25. 15s a pair and were always bursting. Because there were few instruments to maintain the car, the first sign of the engine overheating was the smell of burning paint. Pistons were easily ruined and some more powerful cars guzzled as much oil as petrol. While the price of petrol varied enormously from a copper or two to 1s.3d a gallon (depending on the greed of the garage proprietor), filling stations were few and far between, causing drivers to depend on a steady supply on hand, especially as there were few others on the road to assist a stranded motorist.

>Until 1903, there had been no numbers or licenses. From henceforth every car was required to carry a registration number. By the end of the year, 8,500 motors were licensed in Britain (the registration number A1 allocated to Earl Russell), which proved that the motorcar in Britain was no passing craze of the idle rich. At the beginning of Edward’s reign, London transportation was exactly as Dickens knew it; that is,  the horse provided the locomotion as it had for centuries. However, motorbuses were first licensed by the police authorities in 1904, and by 1910, they had displaced 22,000 horses and 2,200 horse omnibuses. A few displaced drivers continued their trade, becoming known as “pirates” because of their cut-rate prices, and continued to run as late as 1916. Motorcabs, informally known as “taxis” were introduced to London in 1907 after the General Motor-cab Company placed one hundred vehicles on the road. By the end of 1907 there were 723 taxis in London, a figure that quadrupled the in the next year. By 1910, there were 4,941 taxis, though there remained on the streets, 1,200 hansom cabs (affectionately called “gondolas of the street” by Disraeli) and 2,500 horse-drawn four-wheelers.

The motorcar revolution was seen as similar to the railway revolution. Nevertheless, there was one main difference: the railway had been an instrument of democracy, while the car represented the private ostentation at its most arrogant, the final triumph of the haves over the have-nots. The ultimate in Edwardian status symbol was the 1911 Rolls Royce “Silver Ghost”, which cost ₤1,154, more than what most people earned in ten years.

Further Reading:
Behind the Wheel: The Magic and Manners of Early Motoring by Lord Montagu of Beaulieu & F. Wilson McComb
The Edwardians by Charles Petrie

Four words sum up transportation in Edwardian England: Tube, train, tram, and car (which, incidentally, is the title of a 1903 book on the subject). Of the four, the tube was the most thrilling and least controversial advancement in technology. The Tube, or London Underground, had its roots in the 1840s, when it became the “world’s oldest subway tunnel.” Five decades later saw the opening of the City and South London, and Waterloo and City Railways, in 1890 and 1898 respectively. Oddly enough, the public was rather apathetic to this new mode of transportation, but the tide changed dramatically when in 1900, the Prince of Wales inaugurated the Central London Railway, which ran practically the entire length of London and charged only twopence between any two stations. Quickly dubbed “The Twopenny Tube” by the Daily Mail, the railway had stations at Shepherd’s Bush, Holland Park, Notting Hill Gate, Queen’s Road, Lancaster Gate, Marble Arch, Bond Street, Oxford Circus, Tottenham Court Road, British Museum, Chancery Lane, Post Office, and Bank. By the end of 1900, the railway had carried 14,916,922 passengers.

By 1910, the following stations were as follows:

Central London Tube, still frequently called the ” Twopenny Tube,” though the universal 2d. fare charged from the opening of the line in 1900 was abolished in 1907. About 6 miles. From Wood Lane, beyond Shepherd’s Bush, to the Bank.
Piccadilly Tube (Great Northern, Piccadilly and Brompton Railway). 9⅓ miles. Finsbury Park to Hammersmith, with spur line between Holborn and the Strand.
Bakerloo Tube (Baker Street and Waterloo Railway). 5 miles. From Elephant and Castle to Baker Street and Edgware Road.
Hampstead Tube (Charing Cross, Euston and Hampstead Railway). About 8 miles. Charing Cross to Euston and Camden Town; here the line forks, one branch proceeding to Hampstead and Golder’s Green, the other to Highgate.
City and South London Tube. 7½ miles. From Clapham Common to the Bank, Moorgate, the Angel, and Euston.
Great Northern and City Tube. 3½ miles. From Moorgate to Finsbury Park.
Waterloo Tube (Waterloo and City Railway). 1½ miles. From the South-Western terminus at Waterloo to the Bank.
Metropolitan Railway, or “Underground.” From Aldgate to Hammersmith and South Kensington and from Baker Street to Harrow and beyond. Forms with the District Railway the “Inner Circle”.
District Railway. From Barking and East Ham via Whitechapel to Kensington, Hammersmith, Wimbledon, Richmond, Hounslow, Ealing, Harrow, etc. Forms with the Metropolitan Railway the “Inner Circle.”

Elizabeth Robins Pennell described her experience with the Tube in an 1896 issue of Harper’s:

If study of the map demonstrates the underground’s sphere of usefulness, you have but to travel over its circles and extensions at certain hours and seasons to realize to what extent London’s millions have come to rely upon it. Should you chance to be abroad early enough, the working-man will crowd you out of third class carriages, half empty during the day; a few hours later and the city man. in his turn, will leave you no space in the first, entirely deserted once the period of his migration is temporarily at an end. Again at corresponding hours in the afternoon your right to first or third class seats will be as closely contested. Or you need but to come home at night with the multitude from Earl’s Court or Olympia, or set out for Hammersmith on the day of the Oxford and Cambridge boat race, to understand why dividends are regulated according to popular amusements.

In picturesqueness the underground makes rich atonement for vile atmosphere, for nervous wear and tear, and much else. It is in this respect that it leaves the elevated, cleaner and purer though the New York line may be, so far behind, and that it makes the electric road seem so ugly and prosaic. You receive no hint of its curious effectiveness from the entrance on the street ; that is, as a rule. A few stations have their qualities above ground as below; Charing Cross, for example, as I see it from my window, its walls flaming with many posters, on one side shut in by the lines of Hungerford bridge, on the other by the soft green of the shrubbery in the gardens and the branches of overshadowing trees. But Charing Cross is one of the exceptions. The ticket office, or booking office, to be English, is uncompromisingly ugly. In appearance it would have fared better had it been left on the low level of the platform as was originally intended. For once on the platform the grime and dirt and unsightly detail are lost in the beautiful play of light and shadow.

Rembrandt would have exulted in the rich darkness of the nearest distance ; in the way the daylight filters in through the glass roof or skylight above and mingles with the glare of gas and the red and green glow of signals ; in the bits of color that tell so well in the sombre surroundings—here the posters on the walls, here the books on the stalls, and there it may be the gay gown and flaunting feather of a lingering passenger ; and, above all, in the wonderful effects of the trailing outspreading smoke, as the train comes thundering in. There are stations where the track makes a great curve just before it reaches the platform, and engine and smoke cloud round it with a fine rythmical swing ;there are others where the low roof is supported by long lines of columns, and the smoke loses itself among them as in the dim aisles of a cryptlike basilica ; and there is not one without its distinctive features, its special picturesqueness. The marvel is that the artist has but just discovered the underground.

By this time, there was no outcry against women riding the tube as there had been when the omnibus made its initial appearance on London’s streets, and advertisements made pains to show well-dressed ladies taking the Tube from the West End to various genteel amusements. Plus, as stated above by Mrs. Pennell, the Tube was a rather democratic method of travel, and its popularity also played a role in the increase of suburbs, since a bank clerk in the City or a policeman were not forced to live in London to get to work on time!

Further Reading:
Tube, train, tram, and car: or Up-to-date locomotion by Arthur Henry Beavan

There were thirty-one exhibitors of complete motor cars at that first show and twenty of parts and accessories. It seems a far cry from those few dauntless rattle-traps to the eighty-seven passenger cars, seventy-five trucks and 284 accessories of this twentieth show, but the development has been consistent and logical. ~ The Hardware Review, 1920

1st National Auto Show, 1900

From The Horseless Carriage, 1900:

In the obstacle contest on Monday evening Walter C. Baker, of the Baker Motor Vehicle Company, was the winner, his best time being 25 seconds. A. L. Riker, whose vehicle was driven by Ed. Adams, was second.

The following are the results of the brake contest for gasoline vehicles held on Tuesday evening, November 6:

No. 19, Automobile Company of America the winner; driver, F. W. Walsh; best time, 7 3-5 seconds. The distance run was 150 feet and the vehicle stopped in 16 feet 9 inches. There were three other entries, but only one prize was given. The other entries were: Duryea Motor Company (no time given); No. 18, Ohio Automobile Company (no time given); No. 17, Holyoke Automobile Company (no time given), and No. 20, International Motor Carriage Company (no time given).

On Tuesday evening was also held an obstacle contest for gasoline vehicles, which resulted as follows:. No. 19, Automobile Company of America (F. W. Walsh, driver), was the winner, the best time being 36 2-5 seconds; No. 17, Holyoke Automobile Company (L. Saunders, driver), was second. The best time was 47 2-5 seconds. No. 18, Ohio

Automobile Company, best time over one minute. No. 20, International Motor Carriage Company; best time, 43 4-5 seconds. The Ohio Automobile Company and the International Company were tied for third place.

A bicycle coat and waistcoat race was held November 8. Each rider rode 3 laps. No. 6, Waltham M’f'g Company (pink shirt rider); time, 237 3-5 seconds. No. 16, Canda Tricycle Company; time, 248 3-5 seconds. No. 5, De DionBouton tricycle (rider, Henry Brandt); time, 238 1-5 seconds. No. 6, Waltham M’f'g Co. (blue shirt rider); time, 247 1-5 seconds. No. 16, Canda M’f'g Company; time, 320 seconds. Final heat between Nos. 5 and 6; No. 6′s time, 233 1-5 seconds, and time of No. 5, 226 1-5 seconds. De Dion-Bouton Motorette Company, winner.

On the same evening was held a contest for gasoline vehicles, in which the time required for starting was the deciding factor.

In the first heat the Knox gasoline runabout made a best time of 17 4-5 seconds. In the second heat a gasmobile, of the Automobile Company of America (driven by F. W. Walsh) made a best time of 16 1-5 seconds. In the third heat the Packard gasoline carriage made a time of 20 3-5 seconds, and in the fourth heat the same vehicle reduced its time to 19 3-5 seconds. In the final heat, between the Knox runabout and the gasmobile, the former broke its chain and the gasmobile won the event.

On November 9 there was a brake contest for electric vehicles, the distance being 100 feet. National Automobile Company, driven by P. B. Skillman; time, 5 3-5 seconds; distance, 12 feet 6 inches. Woods Motor Vehicle Company, driven by E. W. Curtis, Jr.; time, 6 2-5 seconds; distance, 23 feet 5 inches. No. 10, Baker Motor Vehicle Company, driven by W. C. Baker; time, 7 1-5 seconds; distance, 11 feet. Baker Motor Vehicle Company, time, 8 3-5 seconds; distance, 6 feet 10 inches. Riker Motor Vehicle Company; time, 5 4-5 seconds; distance, 14 feet 5 inches. Final heat between Riker Motor Vehicle Company and National Automobile and Electric Company: time of the Riker vehicle, 6 2-5 seconds; distance, 10 feet 7 inches. Time of National carriage, 6 seconds; distance, 12 feet 1 inch. The Riker Motor Vehicle Company was the winner.

On Saturday, November 10, there was a championship obstacle contest between the winners of all three classes in the previous similar events. The results were as follows: Baker electric runabout (driven by A. C. Baker); time in first trial, 24 4-5 seconds; in second trial, 30 2-5 seconds. Locomobile (driven by S. Houston, time in first trial, 31 1-5 seconds; in second trial, 40 3-5 seconds. Gasmobile, of the Automobile Company of America (driven by F. W. Walsh), time in first trial, 28 1-5 seconds; in second trial, 36 2-5 seconds. The Baker vehicle won the event.

The last contest was a championship brake contest between winners of all classes in the previous brake contests. The results were: Riker electric vehicle (Ed. Adams, driver), first trial, time, 6 2-5 seconds; distance, 14 feet 6% inches: second trial, time, 6 2-5 seconds; distance, 15 feet 11 inches. Gasmobile of the Automobile Company of America (driven by F. W. Walsh), first trial, time, 5 3-5 seconds; distance, 17 feet 6 Inches; second trial, time, 5 2-5 seconds; distance, 19 feet 5 inches. Locomobile, time, 4 4-5 seconds; distance, 27 feet 8% inches; second trial, time, 5 1-6 seconds; distance, 20 feet 414 Inches.

The Rlker Motor Vehicle Company was the winner and the Automobile Company of America the second.

Photo from Encyclopedia Brittanica.

America at the turn of the century stood at a crossroads. It had conquered the West, proved its might with the Spanish-American War, and along with Germany, had become a global supplier of goods and technologies. Yet, because of its youth, it remained a small player on an international scope, forced to bow to the centuries of expertise and might of its European peers. With the inadvertent placement of Theodore Roosevelt in the White House, an energetic, youthful, and charismatic man not unlike the country he led, the United States was poised to snatch the attention away from Europe and to show she was nothing less than an equal—perhaps even a superior—to the Old Country.

Since the 1820s, the Monroe Doctrine had become a defining force in American foreign policy. Back then, in the midst of Latin American countries throwing off the yoke of the Spanish Empire, the United States was concerned of the possibility of another European power asserting a claim on the Americas, and President James Monroe stated “that further efforts by European countries to colonize land or interfere with states in the Americas would be viewed as acts of aggression requiring U.S. intervention.” In short, it basically gave the United States carte blanche to assert its own claims in the Americas.

After the Venezuelan Crisis of 1902, in which Germany, Italy and Britain formed a blockade of the country in retaliation for unpaid debts and sparked a minor armed conflict. The presence of European gunboats in American waters was very unpopular in the United States, and as President Roosevelt pressured the European powers to drop the blockade, he stationed naval forces in Puerto Rico, “to ensure ‘the respect of Monroe doctrine’ and the compliance of the parties in question.” This action formed the nucleus of his extension to the Monroe Doctrine, the “Roosevelt Corollary,” in which he “asserted a right of the United States to intervene to ‘stabilize’ the economic affairs of small states in the Caribbean and Central America if they were unable to pay their international debts.”
In the meantime, expansion of the United States provoked the need for a speedier route for ships to travel from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific. Despite the rapid advancement of technology during the 19th century, ships continued to reach the Pacific Ocean from the Atlantic through the centuries old route down South America and the Strait of Magellan. The earliest mention of a canal through the isthmus of what is now Panama was in 1534, when when Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain ordered a survey for a route through Panama that would ease the voyage for ships traveling to and from Spain and Peru. The Kingdom of Scotland launched the ill-fated Darién scheme in 1698 in hope of setting up and overland trade route and becoming a world power, but it was plagued by the generally inhospitable conditions, and abandoned in July of 1699. Alessandro Malaspina launched an expedition in 1788–1793, and demonstrated the feasibility of a canal and outlined plans for its construction. These attempts were but a few of the many hopes and dreams of building a canal, and mid-19th century engineers and powers made do with the Panama Railway, which opened in 1855.

When in the 1880s, Ferdinand de Lesseps, developer of the Suez Canal, undertook the task of constructing a canal across the isthmus, he began with much fanfare and triumph. His role in the opening of the Suez Canal, which shortened the route to Asia and Australasia, made him a French national hero and not only did the French government have full faith in his abilities, but the French public, and the newly-formed Panama Canal Company became the investment to pour one’s money into in certainty of obtaining huge returns. Unfortunately, the French company rushed into isthmus with no knowledge of the area’s climate or of the geographic differences between it and the dry, flat land from which the Suez Canal was cut. Construction began in 1880, and by the end of the decade, thousands of workers had died, landslides had wiped out what small work had been accomplished, and the scandal back in France, when the revelation of bribes and swindles emerged—egged on by an antisemitic press, pinning the blame on Jewish financiers—both de Lesseps and the Panama Canal Company were finished.

By this time, various interests in the United States expressed interest in building a canal across the isthmus, with some favoring a route across Nicaragua and others advocating the purchase of the French interests in Panama. A commission was set up in 1899 to determine which area was best, but when the Nicaraguan deal was settled, it was discovered that the United States would have no legal jurisdiction over the canal. Those urging for the canal to be built in Panama pointed out the obvious choice; however, the French and Colombian company hiked up the price for the isthmus, and refusing to pay such an exorbitant price, the United States instead “engineered a revolution.” With the support of the U.S. Navy, Panama revolted against Colombia on November 3, 1903 and formed a republic. The new republic of Panama received $10 million from the U.S., an annual payment of $250,000, and guarantees of independence. The United States gained the rights to the canal strip “in perpetuity”

Construction of the canal began in 1904 and it was not completed until 1913. When the canal finally opened in August 15, 1914 with the passage of the cargo ship SS Ancon, it had cost the United States approximately $375 million and 5,609 lives. Despite this, the sheer impressiveness of the Panama Canal signaled the emergence of America as a global superpower, and the Canal quickly became a popular course for leisurely steamship cruises from one coast of the United States to the other. The following year saw the Panama-Pacific International Exposition, which celebrated both the opening of the Canal and the rebirth of San Francisco less than a decade after its devastating earthquake. For more information on the construction of the Panama Canal, tune in to PBS’s American Experience special Monday, January 24th at 9 p.m. Showcasing a fascinating cast of characters, commentary by historians, and first-hand accounts from canal workers (and their descendants), Panama Canal is a show as epic as its topic.

Further Reading:

The Panama Canal by J. Saxon Mills
Zone Policeman 88; a close range study of the Panama canal and its workers by Harry Franck
Canal Museum

(FTC disclosure: A DVD of the documentary was provided to the reviewer by the production company. The writer did not pay for this DVD but received it free.)

This Thursday marks the 100th anniversary of Thomas Edison’s ground-breaking Frankenstein movie, and it’s finally coming out on DVD in a restored print. Frankenstein’s actors were paid $5 a day and hid the fact that they were slumming in movies.

The restored DVD print of the first ever Frankenstein movie is the work of Frederick C. Wiebel, Jr., who’s also written a book about the making of that film and other early films from 100 years ago.

In a great ABC News article, Wiebel reveals that the film’s special effects are pretty primitive. The most expensive element might be a Frankenstein dummy, which they lit on fire — and then cranked the film backwards, so the dummy appeared to emerge, unscathed, from the flames. Frankenstein director James Searle Dawley learned his craft from Edison’s main director, Edwin Porter, who invented cinematic techniques such as cross-cutting and close-ups. (And who also mentored D.W. Griffith, director of Birth Of A Nation.)

The whole movie is on YouTube — although let’s hope the DVD version is slightly clearer:

Hat tip to io9.com

Since getting a hold of my Sony Reader I now characterize my life in two parts: BS and AS (Before Sony; After Sony, natch). Before Sony, my TBR pile overflowed ominously, the uncracked spines of unread books glaring at me whenever I entered my office. They glared even harder when new books joined them, impulse buys I can’t resist when I go to a bookstore or a store with a book section. Because of the volume of books left unattended, I find myself less and less willing to put a dent in the pile because I’m the kind of reader who will read the first 10 or 20 pages of a book before doing to same to the next, as I struggled to decide what to read. Granted, I find myself doing this on the PRS 700, but I feel less guilty because the TBR pile is, well, a TBR list of electronic books.

The second the Reader arrived in the mail I ripped open the packaging to hear the Hallelujah choir singing. In my hands was the device I’d coveted for years, the device I’d actually contemplated getting a real job in order to buy, the device I swore would change my life. And it has, to some extent, but not without a stack of new issues!

First things. I found the set-up fairly easy. I jumped the gun a bit and downloaded the Sony Bookstore to my computer before the Reader arrived and when it did, I plugged in the usb cord and the device synched with the program in a pinch. Harlequin was so devine to offer up a $25 gift certificate for we Test Drivers, but my first stop was Google Books. Ever since Google set up this service I’ve downloaded an innumerable number of books to my hard drive, and though I have no issue with reading on the computer screen, I was so relieved that I could read the books away from my laptop! (historical novelists cheer!!) Unfortunately, Sony and Google have only optimized a fraction of the books available through the Google Books website, forcing me to optimize the unlisted books through my Adobe Acrobat (if you have only Adobe Reader, you’re out of luck :/ ) and upload them to the reader myself. But this proves fairly easy: if you leave the Sony Bookstore program open, you can drag and drop files into the “Reader” category on its left column.

After fiddling with a few old books for a while, I decided to use the HQN gift certificate for a few new books–which is when I ran into the first of my snags, the least of which was how quickly $25 disappears! The Sony Bookstore is, to state it honestly, terrible. I had to flip between the eHarlequin website and the Sony Bookstore in order to find the titles that interested me as there is no way to search for a specific publisher, and the “Romance” category isn’t very helpful either. I must also note that Harlequin’s e-book website leaves one wanting: there are no plot synopses or excerpts available, forcing me to switch between that website and the regular Harlequin website just to browse! The upside is that Harlequin is digitizing a lot of their backlist, including defunct lines–which is how I snagged a Silhouette Bombshell in my stash (I really miss that line *sniff*). After hemming and hawing for a few, I quickly filled my order and pressed “buy.” All downloaded books lay in the “Library” category and I find it pretty cool that you can read your books on the Sony eBook Library program as when I return my Reader at the end of September my books won’t disappear with it and since the books are in the ePUB format, you can’t just read them like a pdf file.

Reading the books is exciting. Whenever I leave the house there goes my Reader and during lulls in activities, I whip it out and read a few pages. I haven’t gotten many odd looks, but I did whip it out while in line at the supermarket and realized the man standing behind me was reading over my shoulder (I was reading a Dickens book, darn it! Too bad I hadn’t been reading a steamy scene in a romance.). I also realized why the erotic romance market took off the way it did in the electronic format. It’s very freeing to sit on a tram reading something by Emma Holly without others viewing me as some sex freak because of the cover or title (“not that there’s anything wrong with that…”).

Technologically, I find the Sony Reader very WYIWYG. The buttons are fairly straightforward about what they do, the menu is easy to understand, and buying and uploading books is a pip! But I must say the instructions included are absolute rubbish. I tried to read them and in my utter bewilderment, looked through old emails from the Reader list Sarah set up to view the troubles of those who’d recieved their Readers before I did, until I realized that they also realized what rot the instructions were. So Sony Reader buyers, chuck the instructions and just plug the thing in.

Now on to the bad. The battery, the back-light, and the text. I have the PRS-700 and it was nearly fully charged when I recieved it. The next day I needed to recharge it. This didn’t take so long, but just last week I had a moment when it appeared the Reader had died. Turns out that if you plug the charger/usb cord to the computer and the computer falls asleep, the Reader isn’t charging at all. In my situation, I charged it fully and left it plugged in when I bought a few books. Next day, I took it out with me, read a bit, and the battery was about halfway. Turned it off and plugged it in when I arrived home. Day after that, the Reader would not turn on. All I could see was a faint yellow octagon with an exclamation mark. After a few frantic emails and google searches I was enlightened to the fact that my battery had died–and this after charging it well enough! I’m guessing there is such a thing as too much charging for the battery. Which leads me to my next gripe: the backlight. This is a Godsend when I’m reading at night and while having it on does drain the battery (it has two settings), that isn’t my issue–my issue is that I need to have the backlight on if I’m reading my artificial light. Yes, household lamps washes out the e-ink and unless I’m reading in direction sunlight, there’s an annoying glare also. Both issues are only helped when I turn on the backlight. The worst feature of the bunch is the text. You can adjust it, but once you do, the formatting is shot to hell. I think this is an issue e-publishers need to fix, but for the present, it’s in the Sony Reader’s court. I adjusted the text on two Harlequins and two indie-pubbed books (Kept by Zoe Winters and The Proviso by Moriah Jovan *g*) and had the same issue: the formatting is off and so is the page count.

The biggest snag so far is buying directly from Harlequin. Even though Sony’s ebook store is disorganized, the buying and downloading of books from the site is so much easier than from Harlequin. It took me an hour and I had to use outside FAQs before I could figure out how to open the books and get them onto my reader (please download the Adobe Digital Editions first!!!). I’m glad for the experience, but it isn’t something I want to repeat. So Harlequin, along with having excerpts and synopses, please make the instructions easier to understand!

All in all I am very pleased with my Sony Reader experience. I probably won’t ever go 100% digital since a lot of the books on my bookshelf, both fiction and non-fiction, will probably never see a digital release, but if I owned this outright, I would probably purchase all my new book releases in digital format because of the ease of purchase. Yes, pricing, date of availability, and the inability to truly zoom into the font are downsides of reading e-books on the Reader, but the pros far outweigh the cons.

The motorcar was here to stay despite protestations from the rural districts, coachmen and other citizens alarmed by the emergence of the horse-powered vehicle over the horse, but many automobile manufacturers and enthusiasts found it prudent to capture the support of lawmakers, preferably the highest in the land–Parliament. Lord Montagu of Beaulieu was a powerful ally. Friend of the King, and founder and editor of The Car Illustrated magazine, his support, among others, of the 1903 Motor Car Bill raised the speed limit to 20 mph and implemented the registration of all motorcars and motorists. Lord Montagu raised the profile of motoring by introducing King Edward to the sport, appearing at many of the first motor rallies and raised the profile of the Rolls Royce when the mascot he commissioned was presented by its sculptor to the company–the Spirit of Ecstasy.

The early motor car featured a radiator cap on its hood/bonnet, but by 1910, the hood ornament/car mascot became fashionable. Responding to customers who felt a firm as prestigious as Rolls Royce should feature its own luxurious mascot, and concerned their customers were affixing inappropriate ornaments to their cars in its absence, Claude Johnson, the managing director of Rolls-Royce, was asked to commission something suitably dignified and graceful. He turned to sculptor Charles Sykes, asking him to produce a mascot which embodied “the spirit of the Rolls-Royce, namely, speed with silence, absence of vibration, the mysterious harnessing of great energy and a beautiful living organism of superb grace…” Years previously, Sykes had been asked to create a mascot for Lord Montagu’s Silver Ghost, and he submitted a modified version of it to Rolls-Royce in February of 1911.

What was listed initially listed as an optional extra, only to become a standard fitting in the early 1920′s, was no ordinary car mascot; the silver sculpture of a flying lady had a past. Lord Montagu of Beaulieu had commissioned this mascot as an emblem not of wealth and luxury, but of love. The subject, Eleanor Velasco Thornton, was a young woman hired as his secretary in 1902, and the two fell quickly in love. But the baron was married and Miss Thornton was barred from being his partner not only because of his matrimonial bonds but also by her much lower social status. The two nonetheless were inseparable for the next decade, Eleanor bearing his child and continuing her work with him on The Car Illustrated. To commemorate their secret love, Eleanor modeled for Montagu’s personal hood ornament, and Sykes crafted a figurine of her in fluttering robes, pressing a finger against her lips – to symbolize the secrets of their love. The figurine was christened The Whisper.

Tragedy struck in 1915 when their voyage aboard the SS Persia, on which they were traveling through the Mediterranean on the way to India, was torpedoed by a German U-boat. There was no time to get to a lifeboat and as they made for the decks on the listing ship, “Montagu had Eleanor in his arms, the next they were hit by a wall of water and she was gone.” He survived and made his way home to read his own obituary in the Times. The baron passed away fourteen years later and with him, the secret story behind Rolls-Royce’s iconic emblem.

Happily, the tale of the star-crossed lovers lives on today, as it has been announced that Batman Begins actor Christian Bale has been tapped to star in The Silver Ghost, which will tell the story of the thirteen year affair between John Montagu, who later became Lord Montagu of Beaulieu, and Eleanor Thornton, his secretary.

Further Reading:
Agony and the Ecstasy: The great Rolls-Royce love story
Wings of Desire: the secret love affair that inspired Rolls-Royce’s flying lady