When Hitler Took Cocaine and Lenin Lost His Brain (14 page)

It was not long before they began to die. James Clarke was the first to succumb: he breathed his last on 12 February and his body was hurled overboard.

Next to die was John Wilson. His death coincided with the last of the biscuit rations being consumed. After a brisk debate, the crew and passengers took the momentous decision to keep themselves alive by eating him.

Ann Saunders watched on stoically as Wilson's corpse was roughly dismembered and then chopped into manageable chunks. ‘It was cut into slices, then washed in salt water, and after being exposed to and dried a little in the sun, was apportioned to each of the miserable survivors.'

Ann was of a genteel disposition and could not bring herself to eat human flesh. She refused to take her portion. But after twenty-four hours of further starvation she ‘was compelled by hunger to follow their example'.

She noticed that the group act of cannibalism changed the dynamics of life aboard the stricken vessel. ‘We eyed each other with mournful and melancholy looks,' she said. Each person had become a potential meal.

Men now began to die every day. When Sailor Moore succumbed to exposure they feasted on his liver and heart. Henry David and John Jones were the next to expire, followed by several of the cabin boys. One of them died ‘raving mad, crying out lamentably'. All were dismembered and consumed by the surviving crew.

Several barrels of water had been rescued in the aftermath of the storm. These now ran dry, obliging those on board to ‘the melancholy distressful horrid act (to procure of their blood) of cutting the throats of their deceased companions a moment after the breath of life had left their bodies'.

Miss Saunders watched aghast as her female companion Mrs Kendall munched through the brains of one of the seamen. When the last morsel was finished, she turned to the others with dripping fingers and declared it ‘the most delicious thing she ever tasted'.

The next death weighed particularly heavily on young Ann. James Frier was a youthful admirer of hers, one who had plucked up the courage to propose marriage in the terrible days that followed the storm. Ann had accepted without hesitation and promised to tie the knot as soon as they reached England.

Now, as young James slipped from unconsciousness into death, she had little choice but to eat him. She described herself as being ‘so far reduced by hunger and thirst' that she was obliged ‘to suck the blood as it oozed half-congealed from the wound inflicted upon his lifeless body'.

Several more of the crew expired in the days that followed Frier's death and soon there were only six people left alive. When a vessel was finally sighted on the horizon – it was the HMS
Blonde
– all six were on the verge of death.

The captain of the
Blonde
was horrified to discover that those aboard the
Francis Mary
had kept themselves alive by gorging on their crewmates. He was even more appalled to discover that the ship's ropes were adorned with thin slices of human flesh left to dry in the stiff sea breeze. Yet he took pity on the gaunt survivors and rescued them from their waterlogged vessel.

The
Blonde
finally arrived in England in April 1826 with Ann and five others. Although deeply shaken by her ordeal, Ann was relieved to have survived a voyage that had killed fifteen of her travelling companions. And she remained surprisingly philosophical about having eaten her fiancé.

‘I think that I witnessed more of the heavy judgements and afflictions of this world than any other of its female inhabitants,' she said.

 

PART III

Not Quite Normal

We, Norton I, by the Grace of God Emperor of the Thirty-three states and the multitude of Territories of the United States of America, do hereby dissolve the Republic of the United States.

EMPEROR NORTON'S 1860 DECREE DISSOLVING THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT AND REPLACING IT WITH AN ABSOLUTE MONARCHY.

 

7

Eiffel's Rival

It was the crowning achievement of his career. Gustav Eiffel was feted as a French national hero at the 1889 inauguration of his famous tower.

Among the few who did not appreciate his Paris skyscraper was a fervent English patriot by the name of Edward Watkin. He resented the Eiffel Tower for one simple reason: it stood more than five times higher than Britain's most celebrated monument, Nelson's Column. And that, he felt, was a deep insult to national pride.

Yet Watkin was not a man to nurse his grievances. He vowed to do everything in his power to construct a British tower that would be taller, bigger and more spectacular than anything the French could build.

Watkin had made his fortune in railways, building extensive networks in England, India and the Belgian Congo. Immensely energetic and ambitious, he was always looking for ways to increase his fortune.

He reasoned that if his planned mega-tower was built in Wembley Park, a stretch of unused wasteland in the north-west of London, then his own Metropolitan Railway could be used to transport the thousands of annual visitors that would surely flock to the site.

Watkin was convinced that he was onto a winning idea and now launched his competition to build a British tower – one that would overshadow Gustav Eiffel's monument. ‘Anything Paris can do, London can do better!' was his war cry.

By the end of 1889, architects from across the world were working on designs for a tower that would be taller and more spectacular than Eiffel's. There was to be a prize of 500 guineas for the best-designed entry.

The project fired the public imagination and gained a great deal of publicity. Watkin's Metropolitan Tower Construction Company became a byword for national pride. With more than a hint of mischief, Watkin even approached Gustav Eiffel and asked if he would care to submit an entry.

Eiffel politely declined. ‘If I,' he said, ‘after erecting my tower on French soil, were to erect one in England, they would not think me so good a Frenchman as I hope I am.'

It was not long before a variety of designs began to arrive on Watkin's desk: they came from Italy, Sweden and Turkey, along with many local ones.

Watkin was disappointed to discover that many of them were eccentric flights of fancy. One, named Ye Vegetarian Tower, was submitted by the London Vegetarian Society. It came complete with hanging vegetable gardens. Another, the so-called Tower of Babel, was so vast that it had a road and railway leading to the top. The most extraordinary design of all – a tower far taller than Eiffel's – was to be built entirely of glass.

As Edward Watkin leafed through the numerous entries, he realized there was only one design that stood any practical chance of being built. It was made of open metal latticework and rose to a point at the top. Standing upon four legs (the original design had six) it was in every respect an exact copy of the Eiffel Tower. The only difference was that it was 87 feet taller.

It was selected as the winning entry and building work began immediately. By 1891, the gigantic foundation holes in Wembley Park had been plugged with concrete and work began on the 3,000-ton tower itself.

Work began well. It had soon reached a height of more than 60 feet and curious Londoners began to flock to see the beginnings of what was being called Watkin's Tower.

Edward Watkin claimed it would be finished by 1894. But this proved wildly optimistic. When the surrounding park was opened to the public in that year, the tower was still only 155 feet high.

Some 100,000 people came to visit the stump. Most were extremely disappointed to see a partial replica of Eiffel's architectural triumph. Only 18,500 bothered to buy a ticket to ascend to the first (and only) level.

At the end of 1894, Edward Watkin's workmen downed their tools. The Metropolitan Tower Construction Company had run out of money and the general public no longer had any enthusiasm for a project that seemed increasingly pointless.

The tower was abandoned shortly afterwards. For the next thirteen years, Watkin's folly remained as an embarrassment on the London skyline, a rusting and derelict eyesore.

By the time it was finally blown up in 1907, Edward Watkin was dead and Britain had signed the Entente Cordiale with France. Anglo-French rivalry was set aside – for the time being.

 

8

Emperor of the United States

He reigned for more than two decades, an autocratic monarch with absolute powers over one of the most powerful countries on earth. Emperor Joshua Norton I declared himself supreme ruler of the United States in 1859: his avowed intention was to restore stability and integrity to a country he felt was falling into ruin.

Emperor Norton might easily have been dismissed as a harmless eccentric, were it not for the fact that he had a large number of supporters. Promoted by the newspapers of San Francisco, his decrees and proclamations soon became known across the entire nation.

His reign began on 17 September 1859, when he issued a proclamation to the Californian papers: ‘I declare and proclaim myself emperor of these United States.' He immediately called for a public meeting of representatives of all the different states in America, signing his declaration:
Norton I, Emperor of the United States
. (He soon added
Protector of Mexico
to his title.)

The proclamation was greeted with wild enthusiasm by the people of California. They loved his conviction, his authority and his bluntly worded decrees. Norton's clever manipulation of the media rapidly turned him into a nationwide celebrity.

He achieved even greater publicity when he awarded himself autocratic powers. With a theatrical flourish, he formally abolished the House of Congress in the second week of October 1859.

‘Open violation of the laws are constantly occurring,' he declared, ‘caused by mobs, parties, factions and undue influence of political sects. The citizen has not that protection of person and property to which he is entitled.'

The following year, Emperor Norton called upon the army to forcibly depose the elected members of Congress, in order that he might consolidate his tenuous grip on power.

The army and congress chose to ignore Norton, but he was not disheartened. In 1862, he ordered the Protestant and Roman Catholic churches to ordain him emperor. (They also ignored him.) Seven years later, he abolished the Democratic and Republican parties. Shortly afterwards, he issued a decree forbidding religious warfare.

Norton was a familiar figure in his imperial capital of San Francisco. He wore a navy military uniform with gold epaulettes and a spectacular beaver-skin hat bedecked with rosettes and peacock feathers. Twirling a cane in his hand, he liked to patrol the streets, chatting with his subjects and inspecting the state of public buildings.

He had been a penniless bankrupt in the years before proclaiming himself emperor. It was his flair for showmanship that had rescued him from ruin. Dressed in his unmistakable regalia, he was invited to dine in San Francisco's finest restaurants. In return for free food, he would reward them with an imperial seal: ‘By appointment to his Imperial Majesty, Emperor Norton I of the United States.'

Restaurants fought to get such seals as they provided a significant boost to trade. The emperor was also much sought after by theatres and music halls and always had the best seat reserved for him on opening nights.

He had his occasional brush with the law, but usually got the upper hand. When he was arrested and committed to a mental asylum in 1867, there was a public outcry. It led to his immediate release and a grovelling apology from the police. Ever magnanimous, Norton granted an imperial pardon to the officers who arrested him.

By the 1870s, Norton was issuing his own currency: the banknotes became widely accepted in San Francisco. He was also granted recognition of sorts by the United States government: the 1870 census lists his occupation as ‘emperor'.

His reign was to last another decade before coming to a dramatic end: in January 1880, he collapsed in the street and was pronounced dead shortly afterwards.

The
San Francisco Chronicle
announced the tragic news to the world. Under a banner headline in French, ‘Le Roi est Mort', it said: ‘In the darkness of a moonless night under the dripping rain, Norton I, by the grace of God, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico, departed this life.'

He was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in California and was given a headstone that still draws the eye of curious visitors: ‘Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico'.

 

9

The Man Who Bought His Wife

Samuel Baker had always enjoyed the thrill of the hunt: it offered excitement, adventure and the chance to spend time in the great outdoors. When he was asked to accompany Duleep Singh, the crowned ruler of the Punjab, on a hunting trip around central Europe, he jumped at the opportunity. It was a trip that would bag him a most unusual quarry.

The journey had begun conventionally enough. The two men had shot their way through large numbers of birds, bears and wolves. But their progress through the hunting grounds hit a snag in January 1859, when their wooden boat was damaged by an ice floe in the River Danube. They had little option but to take a temporary break from hunting while the craft was repaired.

The riverside town in which they found themselves was called Vidin, a provincial town in Bulgaria, then a province of the Ottoman Empire. It was a dreary place to put ashore: there were no particular sights and little to occupy the two men. The impatient maharajah was keen for some entertainment.

Samuel Baker soon found something to keep his Punjabi host amused. He learned that the Finjanjian family, the town's most important dealers in white slaves, was about to hold an auction. The matriarch of the family was selling off some of the harem girls.

Among the slaves for sale was Florenz Szasz, a beautiful teenager from Transylvania. Although young, she had already undergone more adventures than most people experience in a lifetime. Orphaned in the 1848 Hungarian Revolution when still a young girl, she had endured both adoption and abduction. She had eventually ended up in the Finjanjian family's harem.