Jane Austen’s novels promote the idea of virtuous living within a complex social setting, delivering stories that contain moral education. Austen drew on a classical tradition that had enumerated the virtues necessary for a good life and the ideas of Christian virtue that permeated her own life. In the novels, moral improvement involves, as writer and critic C.S. Lewis observed, the experience of a profound self-awareness. Austen carefully choreographs her characters’ actions, using what Lewis calls a “grammar of conduct,” leading them on a journey of success or failure in achieving moral improvement.

Austen’s Use of Classical Virtues

The Greek philosopher Aristotle defined virtue as that which “will be the state of character which makes a man good and which makes him do his own work well.” Jane Austen’s novels flesh out the complexity of that process. For Austen, a virtue is not the capacity to obey rules and meet obligations. She focuses on character virtues developed through life experience that define the choices her characters will make.

Many critics have speculated about the sources of Austen’s approach to virtue, with some pointing to similarities she shares with Aristotle, who, in his work The Nicomachean Ethics, outlined a detailed scheme of what was necessary to achieve happiness. For Aristotle, the pursuit of happiness was both practical, rooted in action and choices, and philosophical, leading to wisdom.

Aristotle produced what philosopher Gilbert Ryle described as “copious and elastic discriminations,” focusing on excesses and deficiencies that strayed from what Aristotle defined as the mean, or the ideal middle way. For Aristotle, the way to happiness was to find the middle way in conduct.

Thus, in Austen’s novels, characters are drawn away from this middle ground by complex family and social relationships as they strive for happiness. For some, like Darcy and Elizabeth in Pride and Prejudice, this results in joy; for others, like Lydia and Mr. Wickham, the refusal to follow the path of moderation ends in hardship.

Some critics detect a Christian aspect of Austen’s view of the virtues. Her father, a clergyman, had a scholarly background and may well have influenced Jane’s interest in the virtues. As a result, although not explicitly depicted in the novels, Christian virtues such as faith, hope, and charity were added to the classical virtues of prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude.

The Challenges of the Virtuous Life

In Jane Austen’s novels, the virtuous life is not easy. Happiness comes at a cost and is won by struggle and sacrifice. The choice to pursue a course of virtuous action can follow careful deliberation, as with Elinor in Sense and Sensibility. It can also emerge from a natural inclination learned through habit, as Fanny Price demonstrates in Mansfield Park. In both cases, the decision to pursue virtue and seek personal happiness creates obstacles that disrupt the lives of the protagonists and those in their immediate social circle.

In Sense and Sensibility, unlike her sister Marianne, who allows emotion to overwhelm her, Elinor keeps her head, preserving the vital virtue of prudence. By contrasting the two sisters, Austen highlights the importance of maintaining self-control in society. For Elinor, the virtues of temperance and prudence are essential. For Marianne, their lack becomes problematic.

Fanny Price, in Mansfield Park, is placed in a domestic situation with the Bertram family, which requires her to draw on her hard-won internal resources. She becomes what Lewis calls the “spectator of deceptions.” While the characters who inhabit or pass through the grand Bertram family house act out their virtues and vices, Fanny remains constant in her refusal to be affected or changed by them. Fanny resists the advances of Henry Crawford and the attempts by his sister Mary to tempt her into making ill-judged choices. Fanny emerges resolute and, by the novel’s end, is ready to marry Edmund.

The Complexity of a Life of Virtue

Aristotle described the path of the virtuous life as one of moderation. In Jane Austen’s novels, we also witness the complexity and variety of virtues. There are no simple choices between good and evil in Austen’s work. Her characters are not cardboard characters inhabiting a simplistic moral universe. This enables subtle comparisons of temperament, desire, and capacity. Fine details of excess or deficiency in virtue are examined for narrative effect.

In Sense and Sensibility, the difference between Lucy Steele and the Dashwood sisters lies in the contrast between false emotion and the capacity for careful deliberation in moral matters. With Elinor and Marianne, we see the inner complexity of their lives as they struggle for coherence in their ethical judgments.

Darcy, in Pride and Prejudice, is portrayed as a snob who is disdainful of those he considers inferior. But Elizabeth senses depth to Darcy’s character and explores these throughout the novel, challenging him whenever necessary. Darcy eventually succumbs to Elizabeth’s pressure. But Austen does not stop there. In prompting the transformation of Darcy, Elizabeth comes to important self-knowledge. “I never knew myself,” Elizabeth admits after encountering Darcy in all his complexity.

Austen displays skill at delineating subtleties of character, even with someone as imperturbable as the hero of her most famous novel. Austen does not confine this approach to her hero and heroine. Each of the Bennet sisters exemplifies an aspect of pride gone wrong. Jane’s lack of pride becomes indifference to consequences, while Lydia’s presumption leads to an ill-judged marriage.

Doing the Right Thing in Austen’s World

For Aristotle, what was correct in personal conduct was whatever was done “at the right times, with reference to the right objects, towards the right people, with the right motive, and in the right way, is what is both intermediate and best, and this is characteristic of virtue.”

In Jane Austen’s novels, this principle dominates the narrative. It is the principle of the moderate middle way, and few characters escape its controlling effect. At the foundation of this principle is the necessity of deliberation. In Austen’s novels, characters who cannot deliberate bring disorder into their lives. Even with a character as prudent in her judgments as Elizabeth in Pride and Prejudice, it may take the course of the entire narrative for the right balance to be achieved.

Emma Woodhouse in Emma takes it upon herself to become a matchmaker. She fails to deliberate sufficiently about the consequences of this choice, and it falls to Mr. Knightley to act as the correcting force. He stands back, viewing the results of Emma’s interference. Throughout the novel, George Knightley openly critiques Emma, ultimately guiding her to moral improvement. In his eyes, Emma has failed to do what was right for the right person at the right time. Her scheming has been born of a deficiency in practical reasoning, which leads to an insensitivity toward others. Emma has strayed from the middle way of careful reasoning.

In Emma, the heroine illustrates the negative impact upon others of a lack of empathy. Acceptance of the judgment of others and personal humility are the only ways this vice can be corrected. Mr. Knightley becomes the source of that correction.

The Rewards of Virtue

For Aristotle, each person seeks a goal, or what Aristotle called a “telos.” In Jane Austen’s novels, this end is dramatized as the final reward of virtuous acts, often in the form of marriage. While the novels have been described as domestic comedies, and marriage ultimately plays a central part in their conclusions, the happiness achieved by Austen’s characters is not confined to marital bliss. Happiness is achieved in a life lived well, meeting the demands of virtue, and in accordance with the principle of moderation. It is also illustrated by the establishment of a renewed social order.

Throughout the course of the narratives, each of Austen’s characters is challenged. They must show the extent to which they possess the virtues. Some meet the challenge, achieving personal union with another. Elizabeth and Darcy marry; Emma and Mr Knightley are wed at the end of the novel. By contrast, Henry Crawford and Maria in Mansfield Park reap the rewards from their transgressive choices, outcasts of the Bertram family society. Mr. Elliott and Mrs. Clay in Persuasion also suffer social banishment after straying from the path of moderation.

The virtues gained by Austen’s characters strengthen society. In this sense, she adds a Christian dimension to her narratives. Charity, the central virtue of Austen’s Christian faith, becomes the means whereby the disorder of polite society is banished, to be replaced by an order essential for the future lives of her characters.

Jane Austen’s novels promoted virtuous living through stories that dramatized the challenges of being virtuous, its complex nature, and the dangers of straying from the middle way into excess and deficiency in conduct. Her large array of characters allowed Austen to use narrative to overcome the limitations of moral instruction delivered in philosophical and religious tracts.

What inspired Jane Austen’s beloved novels, and how have they stood the test of time? This article provides a brief summary of the main events of Austen’s life. In 1981, the influential 20th-century philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre wrote in his seminal work After Virtue that Jane Austen was “the last great representative of the classical tradition of the virtues… because she unites the Christian and Aristotelian moral traditions masterfully.” According to MacIntyre, no writer after Austen could combine these two traditions. Moreover, while Henry Fielding and Samuel Richardson had mastered the novel of morality before her, Austen refined the form. Following Austen, the Victorian novel moved on to other concerns, leading McIntyre to call her the last great English novelist. Is this a fair claim, and what was the source of her genius?

Jane Austen Life Timeline

Jane Austen’s Early Years

Jane Austen (1775–1817) was born in the village of Steventon, Hampshire, on the 16th of December 1775 to the Reverend George Austen and Cassandra Leigh. She had six brothers and one older sister, Cassandra. Jane enjoyed a deep and close relationship with her only sister, captured by their many letters.

Jane’s father was an Anglican clergyman and Rector of Steventon and nearby Deane. Mr. Austen attended Oxford University, and his academic background had a profound influence on Jane. From an early age, her father encouraged Jane in her studies and her tentative steps as an author. Until his death, George Austen did all he could to help Jane develop her burgeoning literary abilities.

Jane’s mother, Cassandra, was descended from a family of prominent clerics and Oxford scholars. The Austen family home in Steventon was situated in a rural environment, and education was largely conducted within the household, following unsuccessful attempts to place the two girls in boarding school. Amateur family dramatics were a feature of home life, as was rigorous learning guided by Reverend Austen’s watchful eye. Jane became well-read in the literature of the 18th-century Enlightenment. The epistolary novel Sir Charles Grandison by Samuel Richardson was a particular favorite.

Soon after Jane’s birth, financial difficulties prompted Mr. Austen to take private pupils into his home to supplement the family income. The Austen family lived in relative comfort within their modest means, but their financial situation remained a constant source of worry in the years to come. Anxiety about money was a theme found in all of Jane’s future novels.

A Large & Important Family

Family, especially her brothers, played a central part in Austen’s life. She was close to them all and, throughout her life, was attentive to their fortunes. James became a vicar; Francis and Charles joined the Navy, and both eventually took part in the Napoleonic Wars; Henry also joined the military, but he left for a career in finance. Young George, who had epilepsy, was sent to live with a relative.

In 1783, when Jane was eight years old, the wealthy Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Knight adopted her brother, Edward. Years later, when he became the Austen family’s benefactor, Edward was a crucial source of support for his parents, brothers, and sisters. Jane contributed some of her earliest writings to The Loiterer, a weekly publication edited by her brother James while he was at Oxford University.

Between the ages of eleven and eighteen, Jane wrote 27 pieces, which would later make up her collected juvenilia. Included in these volumes were short tales, plays, fragments, and various unfinished scraps. Jane described some of these very short works as “novels,” including one that contained a comedic account of an incident-packed day out in London.

The Austen Family Moves to Bath

In December 1800, Jane’s father decided to retire and move to Bath. The following year, Jane and her parents left Steventon, their home for many years. Bath had become a popular destination for the English upper classes, eager to take advantage of the healing Roman water spas and indulge in the many social entertainments, including balls held in the Assembly Rooms. At these events, echoed in her novels, Jane formed judgments and opinions about the people she would later depict in fiction. Jane and her family spent most of the next few years in various residences in the town.

In 1802, Jane finished revising a novel, initially called Susan but later titled Northanger Abbey. She sold the book to a publisher for £10, who took it without clearly indicating when he would publish it. The book remained unpublished for the rest of Jane’s life, a fact that became a source of distress to her. Years later, Jane tried to have her novel returned so she could offer it to another publisher, but she was threatened with legal action. The publisher was unaware of Jane’s identity since her novels, now enjoying modest success, had been issued without carrying her name. It was only after her death that her brother Henry bought back Northanger Abbey.

Love & Tragedy in the Life of Jane Austen

In matters of the heart, young Jane Austen was not immune to the temptations of romantic affection. She formed an important and, what seemed to her, deeply felt attachment with young Tom Lefroy, but it came to nothing.

Later, in 1802, Jane accepted a marriage proposal from Harris Bigg-Wither, a young man of some substance, but changed her mind after reconsidering the situation overnight. Accepting and subsequently rejecting a marriage proposal carried significant social consequences. During her overnight deliberations, Jane realized she had grave doubts about the character of her intended husband. Inevitably, Jane’s actions caused outrage in the family of Harris Bigg-Wither. This episode affected Jane greatly.

In 1805, Jane’s father, George, died after a brief illness, and Jane grieved deeply. George Austen had been a moral guide to Jane and a provider of religious instruction, which was reflected in the prayers she wrote. His loss proved a serious setback for Mrs. Austen and her two daughters, placing the family under great financial distress. It prompted their removal from Bath, and a period of economic uncertainty prevailed.

Eventually, Edward, now established in his new role as the head of a growing Knight family at the grand residence at Godmersham in Kent, offered Mrs. Austen, Jane, and Cassandra the opportunity to create a Hampshire home for themselves. She had already drafted what would become Pride and Prejudice, and here she would complete the work.

A New Home & Fresh Beginning

In July 1809, Mrs. Austen and her two daughters moved into the house at Chawton, a small village near the main travel route to Winchester. In this comfortable home, situated close to the grand residence owned by her brother Edward, Jane completed almost all of her most famous novels, including a revision of the previous drafts of First Impressions, which became Pride and Prejudice, published in 1813.

Chawton was to be a place where Jane Austen experienced her greatest happiness. The house at Chawton, large enough and well-appointed, enabled Jane to focus more of her energies on writing fiction. It was during these years at Chawton that she formed what would become her distinctive body of work, unique in English literature.

A year after moving into the house at Chawton, the novel Sense and Sensibility was accepted for publication. Jane immediately started work on Mansfield Park, completed in 1813. It is interesting to note that readers have often seen Mansfield Park as a different and inferior kind of novel to Pride and Prejudice. Many reviewers over the years have found Mansfield Park’s heroine, Fanny Price, unappealing and even priggish. MacIntyre praises Fanny Price for possessing the virtue of constancy in the face of the various moral defects she finds during her life with the Bertram family. In any case, by writing a work so obviously different from Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen was already showing her mastery over the novel form and its potential as a vehicle for moral narrative.

Finally, a Life of Writing & Publishing

While living at Chawton, Jane published Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, and Emma. In the year of her death, 1817, she began Sanditon, which was issued posthumously along with Persuasion, thanks to the efforts of Jane’s faithful brother, Henry.

Taken collectively, these works demonstrate Jane Austen’s remarkable range as a novelist, showcasing her skills in crafting incisive character portraits, sharp social satire, and comedy, as well as a powerful sense of morality honed by her acute observation of the world in which she lived.

As critics have suggested in recent years, the moral quality of Jane Austen’s work, not didactic but subtle, resulted from her father’s efforts to provide a broad education in the classics, theology, and literature to his daughter. The private prayers written by Jane also reveal a profound Christian sensibility, a clear legacy of her father’s religious influence. During her years at Chawton, Jane’s work grew in popularity, though not in greater financial rewards. Estimates suggest that during her life, she earned only a few hundred pounds from her fiction.

Jane Austen’s Death & Legacy

After a long battle with illness, Jane Austen died on the 18th of July 1817. A week later, she was buried in Winchester Cathedral. On her gravestone were carved the words:

“The benevolence of her heart, the sweetness of her temper, and the extraordinary endowments of her mind obtained the regard of all who knew her, and the warmest love of her intimate connections.”

After her sister’s death, Cassandra Austen worked tirelessly to ensure that Jane’s legacy would be looked after, involving herself in the ongoing publication of the novels. Cassandra’s affection for her sister was reflected in the care with which she protected Jane’s literary inheritance. However, Cassandra’s decision to destroy selected letters from her sister frustrated the future efforts of biographers to discover some aspects of Jane’s life. Under Cassandra’s stewardship, the literary reputation of Jane Austen was maintained and then passed to her successors. For the remainder of the 19th century, Jane Austen’s six principal novels came to be regarded as high points in English literature.

Jane’s reputation grew steadily with the passing years. Tennyson compared her to Shakespeare, and C.S. Lewis likened her to Samuel Johnson, inheriting his common sense, his morality, and much of his style. In likening her to past literary giants, Lewis was affirming a future assessment of her uniqueness. Her novels continue to be read into the 20th century and have gained new relevance in a variety of fields of literary studies, from feminism to postmodernism.

It’s hard to separate life, legend, and literature when it comes to Mary Shelley. As the author of Frankenstein, she created a monster which outgrew the pages of her novel and took on a huge stature (often greenish, seamy, with bolts in its neck) of its own. While many know Shelley as the inventor of this proto-science fiction tale, plenty of people also know her as the young woman who was swept into the world of English Romantic literature by Percy Shelley. Is there more to the life of this remarkable Romantic?

Mary Shelley’s Illustrious Parents

With parents like hers, Mary Shelley was destined for literary fame. She wasn’t a modern-day ‘nepo baby’ so much as a child of pure intellectual radicalism. Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin, as she was named at birth on August 30, 1797, was the only child of a short-lived marriage between two of Britain’s most prominent enlightened thinkers: Mary Wollstonecraft and William Godwin.

The marriage was short-lived (just five months) for two reasons. Firstly, Wollstonecraft and Godwin had known each other for years before they married. From a stormy start after a heated debate at a mutual friend’s dinner, they fell in love when they were reintroduced a few years later. Initially, there was no question of getting married.

Most know Wollstonecraft nowadays as a pioneering feminist and the author of A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792). In this tract, Wollstonecraft argued that women were restricted by the expectation to make an advantageous marriage at all costs. What little education they received was aimed at making them decent wives rather than useful members of society.

Although she was not against partnerships between men and women, marriage, in its current state, struck Wollstonecraft as an unequal contract. Pursuing a relationship outside marriage—even a sexual one, contravening the moral standards of her society—was not unusual for Wollstonecraft. Before Godwin, she had attempted to found a partnership of equals with the painter Henry Fuseli (who was already married) and the explorer Gilbert Imlay (with whom she had a daughter, Fanny).

Godwin was also interested in living outside established norms, putting into practice the ideas in his best-known work, An Enquiry Concerning Political Justice (1793). The notion of free love was just one facet of the book’s anarchism. Godwin believed that any exertion of state control over the individual ought to be scrutinized, from monarchy to property ownership to marriage.

As it turned out, the couple bowed to convention, getting married once Wollstonecraft discovered she was pregnant, so that their child would be legitimate. Although this cost Godwin several of his more radical supporters, far more importantly, he lost Wollstonecraft soon afterwards. On giving birth to Mary, she contracted a childbed fever and died within a fortnight.

Young Mary Godwin would never know her mother, though she may have heard scandalous gossip following the publication of William Godwin’s memoirs about her, which made publicly known her extramarital relationships. Aged four, Mary gained a stepmother when Godwin married his neighbor, Mary Clairmont, and a stepbrother and stepsister, Charles and Claire, joined the household along with her half-sister, Fanny Imlay.

Although Mary had no formal education, her father made sure she was well-read in literature, history, philosophy, and the sciences. Godwin may not have been the most present father, with his attentions increasingly drawn in multiple directions by the demands of his new family, but he was set on Mary becoming a writer. For a while, Mary enjoyed a level of parental support many female writers of the period did not receive.

She Ran Away With a Romantic Poet

Ironically, Mary lost her father’s support by living up to the radical principles he and Wollstonecraft had instilled in their daughter.

Percy Bysshe Shelley was 21 when he began visiting the Godwin household frequently, drawn by the prospect of conversation with the author of Political Justice, a work he considered formative. By this time, Shelley had already begun circulating poetry that some publishers rejected as too radical and had been expelled from University College, Oxford, for distributing a set of poems and tracts titled The Necessity of Atheism.

It’s not clear exactly what happened in the churchyard of St. Pancras, at Mary Wollstonecraft’s grave, in summer 1814. The story is shrouded in the kind of speculation that fuels our ongoing fascination with the figures of the Romantic period. Some say this was where Mary Godwin, aged 16, first declared her love to Percy Shelley. Some say this was where they first slept together.

Undoubtedly, St. Pancras’s churchyard had become a place of solace for Mary, who went there to think, read, and write, undisturbed by her stepfamily. Writing was her favorite hobby. What she loved most, she later recalled, was “the formation of castles in the air—the indulging in waking dreams” (Shelley 1831, introduction). She had learned to read by tracing her hand, with Godwin’s help, over the letters on Wollstonecraft’s gravestone. The place couldn’t have been closer to her heart.

In a rerun of her mother’s entanglement with Fuseli, however, Mary and Percy faced an important barrier to their relationship—he was already married. Despite his advocacy of free love, Percy had convinced the 16-year-old Harriet Westbrook to join him in re-envisioning what marriage might look like. All of this idealism became more complicated when he met and fell in love with Mary.

Godwin was not pleased at the prospect of his bright, brilliant daughter living with a political firebrand and spendthrift who had already displayed a tendency to flit from one woman to another. When Godwin tried to prevent the relationship, the couple decided to elope. They set their sights on France, accompanied by Mary’s 16-year-old stepsister Claire.

The Infamous Ghost Story Contest

Thanks to Claire, the Shelleys ended up making a return trip to the Continent in 1816. They had gone back to England the previous year, low on funds, Mary about to give birth. Her daughter was born prematurely and died within a couple of weeks. Depressed, she and Percy remained in London, and before long, they had a son, William, born in January 1816.

In the meantime, Claire was pursuing a poet even more infamous than Percy Shelley. Hoping to become a writer or actress, she began sending letters to, then visiting, Lord Byron at the Drury Lane Theatre, where he briefly served on a committee. Their blossoming affair need not be hindered, Claire felt, by Byron’s separation from his wife (amid rumors of abuse and incest with his half-sister) and self-exile in Europe. No, she and the Shelleys would follow him.

By May 1816, Byron was staying at the Villa Diodati, on the shores of Lake Geneva in Switzerland, with his doctor, John Polidori. Mary, Percy, their months-old son William, and Claire took up residence nearby.

It was a “wet, ungenial summer,” Mary later wrote, “and incessant rain often confined us for days to the house” (Shelley 1831, introduction). 1816 has since been famously termed a ‘year without a summer,’ the skies clouded and temperatures cooled by the aftershocks of the eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia the previous year. What could these five literary lights—all, to a greater or lesser degree, aspiring authors—do but hole themselves up and tell ghost stories?

After they had warmed up with a German collection called Fantasmagoriana, Byron suggested they each try to write their own ghost story. A sense of competition sprang up among them. Byron began a story, later published as a fragment, about a vampire. Polidori also wrote about a vampire, a conspicuously aristocratic vampire with some similarities to his patient. Percy Shelley channeled their talk about ghosts and spirits into his poem Hymn to Intellectual Beauty.

Growing more and more mortified, Mary struggled in vain to think of a story. She couldn’t conjure something out of nothing. What had she and her companions been touching on in their intellectual discussions? Experimental science, the origins of life, galvanism—using electrical currents to animate organisms as if they were alive. She pondered: “Perhaps a corpse would be re-animated” (Shelley 1831, introduction).

All it took now was a terrifying dream—of course, in this dreary, hallowed location, she could expect to have terrifying dreams—and Frankenstein was born. She began to write, and two years later, her “hideous progeny” (Shelley 1831, introduction) was published.

She Really Did Write Frankenstein as a Teenager

Appearing anonymously, with a preface by Percy Shelley and dedicated to William Godwin, Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus (1818) was initially attributed to one or other of these prominent men.

Mary Shelley’s own introduction to a later edition, in 1831, credited Percy with encouraging her to expand the dream she had in Geneva into a fully fledged novel. She also set the record straight about its authorship: although he wrote the preface, she was responsible for inventing the whole story. After all, forming “castles in the air” and “indulging in waking dreams” had been her favorite activities since early childhood.

Now scarcely more than a teenager—just 20 when the novel was first published—Mary did not initially receive recognition for Frankenstein and its flights of imagination. She had not put her name to the first edition because some of its themes, especially its ambitious protagonist assuming the role of a God-like creator, might prove controversial.

But critics have debated the extent of Percy’s involvement ever since 1821, when her name first appeared on the title page. Some have argued that the novel is an instance of such close artistic collaboration, with the couple moving in the exact same intellectual circles and corresponding so closely on all of their ideas that it is impossible to separate their individual contributions.

Others argue that it is entirely Mary’s work, with Percy only providing minimal editorial suggestions, which can be spotted in different editions in 1818, 1823, and 1831, as well as in Mary’s original notebooks for the novel.

It’s possible that some readers over the decades have found it difficult to believe that an 18-year-old woman, as Mary was when she began Frankenstein, could turn out to be the progenitor of an entire genre we now call science fiction. Yet Mary’s own account of the novel’s origins, in her 1831 introduction, shows how she benefited from a rich intellectual circle and a predilection for Gothic stories.

Moreover, Frankenstein bears an emotional resonance that only Mary could have given it. It is a story of brilliant, negligent fathers: her portrait of Godwin. It is a story about a child whose entrance into the world brings devastation to his creator: her pain, perhaps, at never knowing Wollstonecraft. Its reflections on life, loneliness, and abandonment came from an author who knew the pains of both losing a child and being a lost child.

Perhaps, even, the novel’s wronged women (Frankenstein’s doomed love Elizabeth, the wronged servant Justine, the creature’s female companion who is destroyed before she is even born) come from Mary Shelley’s firsthand experience of women being cast aside: her mother, Shelley’s first wife Harriet, and Claire, who apparently said that “a few minutes of pleasure” with Byron had caused her “a lifetime of trouble.”

Mary Shelley’s Romantic Life

From the moment she was born, Mary Shelley was a true Romantic: unshackled by convention, always in search of knowledge, and unafraid to let her imagination roam free. Frankenstein, of course, went a long way towards confirming her status among Romantic writers, but like most of these writers, she continues to fascinate because of her life as much as her work.

After the infamous summer of 1816, she and Percy returned to England for what would be their final stint there together. Tragedy awaited them. In quick succession, they learned of the suicides of Fanny Imlay (Mary’s half-sister) and Harriet Shelley (Percy’s wife). Clouded in scandal, Percy and Mary got married, partly to gain custody of the two children Percy had had with Harriet. To make matters worse, Claire, who was still living with them, soon gave birth to Lord Byron’s daughter, Allegra.

Dogged by emotional trauma, ill health, mounting debts, and outrage at their unconventional domestic arrangements, the Shelleys left England for good shortly after the publication of Frankenstein in early 1818. They made for Italy, home of several Englishmen and women who found their native country’s social mores too restrictive (including Byron).

While their life in Italy was freer, Mary faced even more tragedy in these years. She lost another daughter in September 1818, and the following year, her son William died aged three. Ultimately, the couple’s only child to survive into adulthood would be Percy Florence, born later in 1819.

Did She Keep Percy’s Heart?

Tragedy struck again in 1822, when Percy drowned in a boating accident. Mary herself had had a near brush with death a few weeks before, during a miscarriage. Although Percy’s quick thinking (stanching the bleeding by sitting Mary in a bath of ice water) probably saved her life, the couple had become distant in recent years. Loss after loss weighed heavily on Mary, while Percy kept up his lifelong tendency to wander from woman to woman, in keeping with his belief in free love.

In July, Percy set off from the coast near Livorno with his friend Edward Williams (with whose wife Jane he was having an affair) for a sailing trip. They never returned. Ten days later, their bodies washed ashore near Viareggio.

A much later painting by Louis Édouard Fournier depicts the cremation of Shelley’s body on the beach, inaccurately showing Mary at the scene. An infamous Romantic story, possibly fabricated by Edward John Trelwany, a friend of the group who was at the cremation, tells that Shelley’s heart remained intact, calcified during the drowning. Trelawny wrote that he reached in and took the heart.

Of course, the idea of Shelley’s heart surviving the flames lent itself well to the fast-growing mythology around the Romantic poet. It made him sound like a saint—their bodies, too, could miraculously overcome death and decay.

It helped that when Shelley’s body was found, a copy of John Keats’s poem Lamia was found in his pocket. Shelley had written his own poem, Adonais, a year earlier to eulogize his fellow Romantic poet, and in this final act of myth-making, he united their legacies. Byron was soon to follow, carving out his own noble end fighting for Greek independence in 1824.

It may not have been Percy’s heart that made its way back to Mary. This is a suitably Gothic idea which overlooks the fact that, for his heart to survive cremation, he would have to have had some form of heart disease, and there is no evidence for this. Possibly, what Trelawny managed to preserve was Shelley’s liver, or some miscellaneous remains. Either way, Mary kept these, along with his ashes, in a silk parcel on her desk, wound round with a page from his poem Adonais.

More practically, she acted as guardian of Percy’s legacy by managing his estate, overseeing the editing and publication of his literary works, and raising their son, Percy. These are far more prosaic contributions to the story of the Shelleys than the tale of the calcified heart, but equally as important for sustaining the mythology which continues to intrigue us today.

What Else Did Mary Shelley Write?

Outliving her husband by 30 years, Mary Shelley had her own legacy to think of. Most know her as the teenage author of Frankenstein, but after Percy’s death, she resolved to make her living by writing and continued to publish novels.

Valperga (1823) and The Fortunes of Perkin Warbeck (1830) were both historical novels, turning to real episodes from Italian and British history to explore questions about political systems and the power of the individual. Mary’s interests echoed those of her father, William Godwin, with whom she was now reconciled and who helped edit some of her works for publication. He refused, however, to help with the novel Mathilda, not published until 1959, in which a (possibly unreliable) heroine narrates the tale of her father’s incestuous desire for her.

Possibly her most impressive novel, The Last Man (1826), is a precursor to the disaster or apocalypse genre. With autobiographical nods to the late, great men of her life, Percy Shelley and Lord Byron, the novel imagines a future world devastated by a pandemic. It is a striking, haunting piece of dystopian fiction, with ever more relevant reflections on how societies might respond to climate crises.

Along with Frankenstein, this novel demonstrates Mary Shelley’s great contribution to Romantic and Gothic literature, showcasing her extraordinary imagination—what she had called a passion for building castles in the air—as founder of two literary genres: science fiction and disaster fiction.

Mary Shelley never married again, though she kept up close friendships with many figures from the Romantic circles she and Percy had frequented. She lived out her mother’s feminist ideals by assisting downtrodden or cast-out women wherever she could.

When she became ill with a probable brain tumor in the 1840s, she made plans to be buried with her parents in the churchyard where it had all begun: St. Pancras. But when she died in 1851, her son Percy decided against this sombre resting-place and had her buried in Bournemouth, near where he was living.

To fulfill her last wish, he had Wollstonecraft’s and Godwin’s remains exhumed and reburied in Bournemouth. Percy Shelley’s heart—or whatever it was that had been saved from the fire—was buried there too.

Bibliography

Shelley, Mary (1831). Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus. Project Gutenberg edition.

According to Chinese legend, the process of silk-making was discovered around 2700 BC when Leizu, the wife of the legendary Yellow Emperor, was sitting under a tree drinking tea. It is said that a cocoon fell into her cup and began to unravel. The empress noticed the strong thread that came loose and soon taught the art of raising silkworms to the people. Even today, most of the fabric is derived from the cocoon of the Bombyx mori larva, which feeds mostly on the leaves of white mulberry trees.

The farming technique is known as sericulture. For nearly 3,000 years, the Chinese kept the process a secret and revealing it was a crime punishable by death. This was because the ruling dynasties understood the value of monopoly over the material.

Silk Was Used to Uphold Social Classes

Domestically, the fabric was more than just clothing for the elite. It functioned as a currency for buying goods and services. Farmers in China, for example, paid their taxes in grain and silk for centuries. And in the Han Dynasty (from 206 BC to 220 AD), the government paid salaries in rolls of silk rather than coins. As such, the material was woven into the very structure of the local economy. 

At some point, rules regarding silk color and quality were implemented in order to reinforce a strict class system. Only the emperor and his close family were allowed to wear yellow silk initially. Peasants in some regions were also forbidden from wearing the fabric. 

It Connected the East and the West

It was in 138 BC that the Han Emperor Wu sent Zhang Qian, a diplomat, to travel west and find allies against the problematic Xiongnu tribes. Unsuccessful at first, he instead returned with reports of strong, tall horses and markets hungry for trade items, especially silk. Thus, the network of trade routes known as the Silk Road was born. The Chinese Empire began to establish and secure trade routes to the West through conquests and agreements with local tribes.

The routes stretched 4,000 miles from Chang’an to the Mediterranean Sea, allowing silk items to change hands many times in towns along the routes. The price of the material increased with almost every mile it traveled west, and by the time it reached the Roman Empire, it was worth its weight in gold. In Rome, the upper class became obsessed with the translucent fabric.

It Was Used to Portray Wealth

Men and women wore it to portray wealth, class, and opulence. However, moral leaders in Rome hated the fabric for two reasons. It was seen as too revealing for decent women to wear. It also caused a severe trade imbalance which Pliny the Elder wrote about in 77 AD. He claimed that Rome lost approximately 100 million sesterces (coins) a year to the East, an amount that was a massive drain on the Roman economy as a result. At the time, the Romans had no idea how the fabric, the main import, was made. Many Romans reportedly believed that silk grew on trees like cotton. Because no one knew the truth, the price of the material stayed sky-high for over a thousand years. 

It Fueled the Age of Discovery

The huge demand for silk actually sparked other inventions too. The same trade routes that carried the material also brought new technologies such as paper, gunpowder, and the compass to the West. Even the Age of Discovery was also partly fueled by silk. This is because when Columbus sailed west in 1492, he was looking for a shortcut to the silk and spice source regions.

In many ways, silk also created the first truly global economy. It connected empires that didn’t even speak the same language. Beyond clothes, silk was also used to make fishing lines and items such as strings used to make musical instruments. It was also used as a canvas. Additionally, before paper-making technology was developed, wealthy scholars wrote on silk scrolls that ended up preserving a huge chunk of Chinese history. In 1973, archaeologists at the Mawangdui Tombs found silk texts from 168 BC that included star maps and medical books that would have otherwise rotted away if they were made of less durable material.

In 1492, Italian explorer Christopher Columbus, sailing for Spain, discovered that a new land mass lay across the Atlantic Ocean between Europe and India. Within a few decades, Spain and Portugal were rapidly colonizing the “New World.” Britain and France, as well as the Netherlands, quickly joined them by focusing on North America. Why did these European powers send thousands of men and shiploads of weapons and supplies across the oceans? Not surprisingly, they got back far more than they invested in terms of natural resources and native labor. For over 400 years, nations engaged in imperialism to access the natural resources and cheap labor of other lands.

Setting the Stage: Empires of the Old World

For as long as there have been organized societies, there have been attempts to seize desired resources from neighboring societies. Initially, this meant arable farmland, sections of coastlines suitable for ports, and geographic features that made good natural defenses. Around 100 AD, the Roman Empire had expanded beyond the Italian peninsula in search of arable land and vast resources to fuel its growth and enrich its people. At its peak, the population of the empire may have reached one million people, a significant number during that time. While the Roman Empire is probably the best-known early empire to most observers, it was certainly not the first.

The first empires, where a local ruler engaged in conquest to take control of other territories, likely began in ancient Egypt. From the Egyptians to the Romans, the goal was to access desirable resources. These efforts required significant organization and infrastructure, including roads and irrigation. The Greeks, Romans, Persians, and the Han Empire in China created professional militaries and government bureaucracies to help organize the resources needed to conquer vast territories, as well as plan and manage the resources and goods being shipped back home.

1492-1700s: European Colonization of the Western Hemisphere

Empires and nation-states in the Old World (Europe, the Middle East, and Asia) traded with one another using overland trade routes. This was time-consuming and expensive, and some Europeans began looking for an oversea route to access India and Asia. They believed that sailing west across the Atlantic Ocean would eventually allow them to reach the Asian continent. In 1492, Christopher Columbus, an Italian sailing for Spain, set out to do just that and instead ended up discovering land masses in the Caribbean. Quickly, Spain and Portugal began settling the Western Hemisphere, beginning with Central and South America. The Treaty of Tordesillas in 1494 was intended to bisect South America and prevent Spain and Portugal from warring over the continent.

Britain, France, and the Netherlands got involved in New World exploration as well and began settling North America. The French arrived first, exploring the Mississippi River from south to north, while the British arrived along the eastern coast of North America at modern-day Virginia. To the north, the Dutch arrived shortly afterward. All European powers quickly discovered new peoples and crops, while the Spanish discovered gold and silver mined by advanced societies in Central and South America. Early explorers brought European crops with them, hoping that they would grow well in the warm and well-watered lands of the New World.

Columbian Exchange and Triangular Trade

Europeans quickly sent crops they discovered in the New World back home, establishing the Columbian Exchange. Both Europe and the Western Hemisphere were introduced to crops and animals from the other. Cattle and horses arrived in the New World from Europe, and many crops, including potatoes, beans, peppers, and tobacco, were sent back to Europe. Both Native Americans and Europeans quickly adapted to the foodstuffs introduced by the others, with Europeans becoming dependent on crops from the Americas and Native Americans adopting the use of horses and pigs.

Unfortunately, Europeans arriving in the New World demanded low-cost labor to assist with economic development. Native Americans had no natural immunity to smallpox, brought by Europeans, and many perished from disease. Therefore, Europeans brought slaves from Africa to the New World. Europeans traded with Africans for slaves, sent the slaves to the New World, and shipped goods and foodstuffs made by slave labor back to Europe, creating the infamous Triangular Trade system. Slave labor allowed Europeans to expand their empires in the New World, especially in North America.

1600s-1800s: Trade Monopolies

Colonies in the New World desired manufactured goods from Europe, and governments granted charters (formal approvals) to trading companies to have monopolies on cross-oceanic trade. The first of these joint-stock companies was the Dutch East India Company, established in 1602. These massive companies even developed their own armies and navies, with some even manning forts along trade routes to protect against pirates, thieves, or angry natives. They vastly expanded European nations’ reach into territories in North America, Africa, and Asia between 1602 and the mid-1800s in pursuit of profit.

Trading companies’ ability to pursue profit through the use of armed force was highly unethical but benefited the governments that chartered them. Governments often received significant taxes, loans, and some financial kickbacks from company owners and could use the well-armed companies as supplemental assistance in fighting off rival powers in colonized areas. Until the 1800s, monopoly trading companies were also seen as beneficial to merchants in the home countries by limiting competition. This kept prices for consumers higher but prevented trade wars. By 1800, however, trading monopolies fell out of favor due to political instability that erased many political connections and the growing power of producers in the colonial territories.

Mid 1800s: European Imperialism Shifts to Asia and Africa

Between 1781 and 1820, the imperial powers of Britain, France, and Spain lost control of most of their Western Hemisphere territories, beginning with the American Revolutionary War. This was followed by France’s economically-forced sale of Louisiana to the new United States in 1804, which was needed to give a bankrupt France money for Napoleon Bonaparte’s planned conquests in Europe. Finally, New Spain broke from Spain in a series of revolutions, beginning with Mexico. However, European powers could all turn to Asia and Africa for new sources of cheap labor and natural resources.

With Britain forced from the Thirteen Colonies, the British focused their attention on China, from where they had begun to import popular tea and silk. Trade with China was highly profitable, but many in China came to resent and distrust the growing power of European merchants. Much of the anger came from Britain’s exportation of opium from its Indian colonies to China. The Opium Wars resulted when China attempted to prohibit British smuggling of opium into China to pay for tea, silk, and other exotic goods. Two Opium Wars resulted in increases in British power in China, including British control of Hong Kong. Meanwhile, France focused on expanding its foothold in Indochina (south of China; southeast Asia), creating French Indochina.

1898: The Spanish-American War Creates an American Empire

The United States emerged as a growing industrial power after the American Civil War, purchasing Alaska from Russia and settling the West. By the 1890s, it was looking to make inroads into the Pacific Region for profitable trade. It wanted access to the same markets in Asia enjoyed by Britain and France, and viewed islands in the Pacific as good bases to support merchant ships. Many members of the US government also wanted to put military bases on those islands to help assert dominance over the region. The Spanish-American War, which erupted in February 1898, provided an opportunity to take such islands.

The war itself erupted over Cuba, still a colony of Spain, which was a valuable source of sugarcane for American markets. After an American warship exploded in the harbor of Havana, Cuba, the US quickly blamed Spain. The war was a rapid success, and Spain lost its remaining colonies. Cuba, Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines were ceded to the United States. It also gave the US the pretext to complete the annexation of Hawaii, in which the monarchy had been overthrown by American businessmen in 1893. With Spain’s former Pacific colonies and Hawaii, the United States had the infrastructure to enter Asian trade markets with force.

Boxer Rebellion in China: Japan Becomes First Non-European Imperial Power

For economic reasons, Britain continued to make exploitative trade inroads in China while France took control of southeast Asia. The Netherlands, which had long exited North America, controlled the East Indies in and around Indonesia. Other European powers and the United States also wanted access to these markets, and their presence rapidly increased during the 1890s. Resentment often ran high in these Asian countries at Western domination, which took advantage of cheap labor and mocked local customs. In late 1899, a growing group of Chinese peasants began attacking Western enclaves in China, which were seen as destroying Chinese culture and society.

As China’s new empress chose not to act, the Boxers besieged Western embassies in June 1900. Britain and France, along with the United States, four other European powers, and Japan, sent troops to relieve the besieged Western enclave in Peking (present-day Beijing). They swiftly defeated the Boxers and increased Western economic and political domination over China, continuing China’s century of humiliation (1840s through World War II). Shortly after the Boxer Rebellion and the Russo-Japanese War over control of Manchuria (northeastern China), Japan seized control of the Korean Peninsula from China.

World War II: Axis Powers Seek Empires for Resources

After World War I, a defeated Germany was stripped of its colonies in Africa, which it had been allotted during the 1880s. 15 years later, however, Germany was resurgent under the Nazi regime, and Italy, under Mussolini, had colonial ambitions. Italy struck first, seizing the only independent nation in North Africa, Ethiopia, in the 1935-36 Second Italo-Abyssinian War. 40 years earlier, Ethiopia, also known as Abyssinia, had humiliated Italy by defeating a first attempt to colonize the country. Both Germany and Italy thought seizing other colonies in Africa and the Middle East would supply them with valuable resources, especially oil. The desire for oil led Germany to invade the Soviet Union in 1941, a move also designed to seize lebensraum, or living space, for its people.

In Asia, Japan similarly sought more colonies for economic purposes. In 1931 and 1937, it seized more territory in economically valuable Manchuria. The second invasion sparked the Second Sino-Japanese War, which became one of the major theaters of World War II. This growing war increased Japan’s demand for resources, including oil. To obtain it, Japan planned a major offensive across the South Pacific, aimed at the oil fields of the Dutch East Indies and expanding its Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere. To prevent the US Navy from interfering, Japan attacked the naval base at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii on December 7, 1941. Ironically, the attempts to take oil fields by force led to the eventual defeat of both Germany and Japan.

Post-War Controversy: Did Exploitative Trade Replace Imperialism?

The defeat of the Axis Powers by 1945 ended the era of imperialism aimed specifically at seizing resources. A new economic era of free trade began. Most nations agreed after 1945 that free trade was a better way to obtain resources and sell goods than creating captive markets. Between 1945 and 1960, most remaining colonies were granted independence, opening them up to trade with the world. The United States, virtually the only world power not economically exhausted from World War II, saw these new markets as great sources of revenue.

By the 1960s, many Western countries were again building factories in former colonies, taking advantage of cheap labor and lack of environmental and worker protections. This became known as “neocolonialism,” with wealthy nations able to use their economic, political, and military power to maintain advantageous trade and labor situations over former colonies. Instead of applying direct pressure, Western powers can use financial debt instruments and conditional guarantees of security to allegedly manipulate the governments of these former colonies to let Western companies maintain desired policies.

The Global South and Economic Imperialism

Critics of colonialism and neocolonialism argue that this exploitation has become entrenched, creating a permanent situation of economic underdevelopment in the “global south,” a term for nations, mostly south of the equator, that were once colonies. Many people argue that these nations have been taken advantage of by their wealthier neighbors to the north. In recent years, they have begun advocating for more international political consideration, such as at the United Nations, for the needs of these countries. They also want more economic consideration, with some researchers declaring that trillions of dollars in resource wealth have been drained from the global south from unequal trade deals.

One problem perpetuated by colonialism and neocolonialism is capital flight, where the wealth generated in developing countries, many in the “global south,” is immediately sent to wealthy countries to be invested (after being converted into those countries’ currencies). This is common when the owners of factories and productive resources are well-connected to colonial powers and have easy access to foreign investments. Unfortunately, this means a lack of domestic investment in the former colonies, leaving them continually reliant on foreign-owned jobs and infrastructure.

In the late 1100s and early 1200s AD, several figures arose in English history whose reputations passed into both historical importance and legendary stories. One of the more prominent figures that falls into both categories is King John of England.

Was John Supposed to be King?

Not really.  John was the youngest of the four legitimate sons of King Henry II. The eldest, Henry the Young King, ruled alongside Henry II (but had little actual power).  Richard I, “the Lionheart” would eventually become King in his own right. Geoffrey II, Duke of Brittany, inherited and obtained substantial lands. But John, nicknamed “Lackland,” received little, yet may have become the most powerful and influential of all his brothers. Each of them rebelled in some way against their father, but each died before their rule could be well established, leaving John with the title.

John’s Family

At this time, French and English nobility were so intertwined that the English court was more French than English. William of Normandy – the Conqueror – had invaded England less than a century before and established his rule there. John’s mother was Eleanor of Aquitaine, former Queen of France as wife of Louis VII and Queen of England as wife of Henry II, John’s father. John technically inherited some parts of France and continuously was at war to obtain more holdings.

His French holdings made him vassal to the King of France (only for those parts of France he inherited, not in England). He was a member of the Plantagenet-Angevine dynasty, which had French roots.

John’s Accomplishments

While it is difficult to show that John had a major accomplishment during his rule, there were various incidents that were monumentally influential in Western history. John’s signing of the Magna Carta is probably the most significant moment of his entire rule.  John was dealing with open revolt from English nobles in the early 1200s, and was forced to the negotiating table by the nobility to allow them to have more rights over their own property.

While both King John and the nobility did not fully keep to the terms laid out in the Magna Carta, it became one of the most influential documents of English law and undoing the idea of the divine right of kings.

John was not as capable in war as his brother Richard, but was not a total loser at war, holding several military victories in France, but none that were important.  He was also a decent administrator, which was probably his best gift as king.  He spent more time in England dealing with English matters than engaging in war than his predecessors, and the legal system got more defined with John at the helm.

Because he needed money to operate the government and engage in his military actions, John also found various innovative ways to raise taxes on both the nobility and populace… which is the reason he is part of the Robin Hood legend.

King John and Robin Hood

While John’s policies of taxation were, at times, overbearing, the legend of Robin Hood is likely mostly fiction.   The earliest part of the Robin Hood legend does not appear until the tail end of John’s reign, and then the records do not begin until after John’s death in 1216.   Whether or not John or his subordinates had any dealings with a figure who even inspired some of the Robin Hood legends is not, and may never be, known.

A popular Red Army song began as follows:

“The White Army and the Black Baron
Are preparing to restore to us the tsar’s throne,
But from the taiga to the British seas,
The Red Army is the strongest of all!”

Many myths surround General Pyotr Wrangel. Famous for wearing a black Cossack uniform,  this charismatic commander played a major role in the Russian Civil War. He did not actually attempt to restore the Romanovs. Even after his defeat, the Soviets considered Wrangel a threat and may have plotted his unexpected death.

A Powerful Family

Born into a famous family of Baltic German origin in Lithuania in the Russian Empire on August 27, 1878, Baron Pyotr Nikolayevich Wrangel had aristocratic blood running through his veins.

His ancestor, Carl Gustaf Wrangel, led Swedish forces during the Thirty Years War and in the Second Northern War. The Wrangel family’s Latin motto, Frangas, non flectes (“You can break, but you can’t bend”), would represent Pyotr Wrangel’s life.

After graduating from St. Petersburg’s Mining Institute, Wrangel worked as an engineer, but his heart remained with the military. When the Russo-Japanese War broke out, Wrangel signed up as a volunteer. He received multiple awards, including the Order of St. Anna for bravery.

Before World War I, Wrangel changed careers by graduating from the Nikolaev Military Academy in Moscow. Next, he joined the Russian Army General Staff while finishing a course at the Officer Cavalry School. This strong affinity for the military set a defining course for the rest of Wrangel’s life.

Rising Star

In 1914, Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s assassination sparked a European powder keg. After the Russian Army’s mobilization, Colonel Wrangel led the Life-Guards Cavalry Regiment in a daring attack on an enemy battery in East Prussia. With his horse shot out from under him and suffering from a concussion, Wrangel led his men to victory on foot. Tsar Nicholas II awarded Wrangel the Order of St. George, making him the first officer to receive this military award for bravery during World War I.

Wrangel distinguished himself as a courageous commander for the rest of the war, participating in the successful Brusilov Offensive against Austria in 1916. Now a major general in the cavalry, Wrangel successfully screened the infantry’s retreat after a failed Russian offensive in the summer of 1917. Meanwhile, revolution loomed, threatening Wrangel’s army and his family.

The Coming Storm

After the February Revolution, the Russian Imperial Army began to disintegrate. Over the next several months, desertions increased and workers’ unrest intensified.

In October 1917, the Soviets led a coup that ushered in the Bolshevik Revolution. The Soviets came to power with the slogan “Bread, Peace, and Land,” promising to end the war with the Central Powers and give confiscated property to the people.

At Supreme Command Headquarters, Wrangel planned to raise a volunteer army to continue fighting Germany. When he realized his commander-in-chief had no intention of resisting the Bolsheviks, Wrangel headed south, where an anti-Soviet army started gathering.

Arrest and Escape

The October Revolution forced the general and his family to move to Yalta. But the situation in Crimea became more dangerous. Gangs of Bolshevik soldiers and sailors patrolled the streets. They broke into houses, helping themselves to cash, jewelry, and other valuables and dragging people before revolutionary tribunals.

One morning, Wrangel woke to loud voices, stamping feet, and slamming doors. As the general sat up in bed, six sailors, swathed in machine-gun cartridges and carrying rifles, rushed into the room.

Two sailors held him at gunpoint, shouting: “Not a muscle, you’re under arrest.”

The sailors hauled Wrangel onto a ship flying a red flag anchored in the harbor. Most interrogations ended the same way. In the water below their feet lay hundreds of drowned victims of summary Soviet trials.

An aristocrat and former tsarist general who openly wore his officer’s shoulder straps on the street in a move that almost got him killed, the baron represented everything the Bolsheviks hated.

His interrogation took place in a cell where a revolutionary chairman named Vakula asked the reason for his arrest.

“Probably because I am a Russian general,” Wrangel replied. “I know of no other guilt.”

The chairman turned to his wife, Olga Wrangel, who had accompanied the baron, and asked why they arrested her.

“I am not arrested,” she clarified. “I just want to be with my husband.”

The Baroness’ calm behavior evoked unusual sympathy among the tribunal.

An astonished chairman told Wrangel, “Not everyone has such wives, and you owe your life to your wife.”

He ordered the general’s release on the spot.

Unlike tens of thousands who disappeared under the Bolsheviks, Wrangel had a lucky escape. He moved to Miskhor, where he lived under a fake passport, avoiding the ongoing wave of raids and arrests.

After the Germans seized the area, Wrangel traveled to Ukraine, where he tried to join Hetman Pavlo Skoropadsky’s government. Having been installed as the leader of a nominally independent Ukraine by the German authorities, Skoropadsky’s government teetered on the brink of collapse. Wrangel therefore decided to join Anton Denikin’s Volunteer Army in September 1918.

Denikin gave him a frigid welcome. Due to his arrest, Wrangel could not participate in the brutal Ice March, which took the Volunteer Army south during the first Kuban Campaign. This meeting foreshadowed future tensions between the two men.

The Black Baron vs the Red Army

Despite frosty relations with Denikin, Wrangel had a reputation as one of the best cavalry commanders in the former imperial army. With a force primarily made up of Kuban Cossack horsemen, Denikin desperately needed a good cavalry general who could relate to the separatist-minded Cossacks.

One of Wrangel’s first actions during the Russian Civil War included taking the city of Stavropol back from the Bolsheviks. In December 1918, Denikin promoted him to lieutenant general.

By 1919, Wrangel began to push back against Denikin’s strategy. He argued that they should join forces with Admiral Aleksandr Kolchak’s troops moving toward the Volga and throw their forces into the fight to take back the critical town of Tsaritsyn (later renamed Stalingrad).

Denikin, feeling threatened, rejected Wrangel’s proposal. Instead, he insisted on defeating the Soviets in the Donbas first. This decision may have proved a fatal mistake.

If the Volunteer Army had joined the battle with the Reds during Kolchak’s Volga Offensive, they could have defeated the Bolsheviks in the Volga region. The Red Army would have had to withdraw troops from Siberia, relieving pressure on Kolchak’s front and enabling him to throw troops into combat at Tsaritsyn. Dividing and conquering the Red Army may have prevented the collapse of Kolchak’s eastern front and the downfall of the Omsk Siberian Provisional Government.

By this time, Wrangel distinguished himself as one of the prominent leaders of the White movement. A popular commander, he also had a reputation as a strict disciplinarian who punished violence and robbery among his troops. In contrast, he faced a ruthless Bolshevik commander named Joseph Stalin. During the second siege of Tsaritsyn (September–October 1918), Stalin clashed with Leon Trotsky, disobeyed orders, and illegally seized supplies sent through Tsaritsyn for the Red Army. Vladimir Lenin refused to tolerate his insubordination and recalled Stalin to Moscow.

On June 30, 1919, Wrangel captured Tsaritsyn in the most successful operation of his career. Vastly outnumbered and using only cavalry units, Wrangel defeated the Soviets at “Red Verdun” and took tens of thousands of prisoners.

March on Moscow

The conquest of the Donbas failed to strengthen the anti-Bolshevik cause. Instead, the campaign brought a largely antagonistic proletarian population under White control. Leon Trotsky’s attack through the Donbas proved fatal for the Volunteer Army. Although the area had rich steel and coal resources, the Whites did not control its military industry. The Volunteer Army, having failed to join Kolchak, proved unable to stop the admiral’s defeat later that year.

Denikin also overestimated the Reds’ defeat at Tsaritsyn. Ignoring the logistical issues his overstretched forces would face, Denikin issued his famous “Moscow Directive.” While aimed at capturing the capital, the Moscow Directive lacked any strategic details. Instead, the White Army marched in spread formation in a single direction. Each corps simply received a roadmap to Moscow.

Wrangel objected. He called the Moscow Directive a “death sentence.” He advised Denikin to strike at Moscow from the shortest possible route, transferring his main forces from Tsaritsyn without waiting for it to surrender.

Denikin refused to listen to Wrangel’s advice. Instead, he split his forces, sending a significant part of the Volunteer Army to capture Kyiv and right-bank Ukraine, a division of strength that dangerously diluted the main march to Moscow.

Wrangles With Denikin

Ultimately, the Moscow Directive failed because Denikin divided and stretched the Volunteer Army too thin across a key section of their front. The Whites also failed to mobilize enough Ukrainian peasants to support their campaign. Unable to concentrate his forces or defend his supply lines, Denikin’s offensive bogged down beyond Oryol, some 200 miles south of Moscow. In contrast, the Red Army mobilized the peasant population. With their chance to take the Soviet capital lost, the Volunteer Army retreated south.

After the Moscow disaster, Wrangel went public with his disagreement with Denikin. He issued a report criticizing Denikin’s strategy and blaming him for the Whites’ defeat. When copies of this report circulated among senior officers, many agreed.

This act came at a cost. In February 1920, Denikin dismissed Wrangel for his outspoken criticism. Facing defeat, Denikin then initiated a disastrous evacuation at Novorossiysk in March. Authorities failed to provide enough ships to evacuate an estimated 100,000 troops, in addition to civilians, fleeing the Red Army. The botched evacuation left thousands of soldiers and refugees behind. In the aftermath, the Bolsheviks executed 60,000 people who could not escape. It is considered the single largest massacre of the Russian Civil War.

A New Command

In April 1920, Denikin resigned. At a meeting of the Military Council, several officers nominated Wrangel to take his place. While not everyone, including Wrangel, agreed that subordinates should elect their commander-in-chief, a shout went up: “Long live General Wrangel!”

Denikin responded by appointing Wrangel commander of the Armed Forces of South Russia. Wrangel accepted the position with the words: “I have shared the glory of victories with the army and I cannot refuse to drink with it the cup of humiliation.”

By now, the Allies, who had funneled resources to the Volunteer Army despite official bans from getting involved in the Russian war, refused to supply further food, weapons, or supplies. Despite this blow, most of the generals voted to keep fighting.

One of Wrangel’s first acts as general was to rename the Volunteer Army the Russian Army. Meanwhile, an amphibious landing via the Black Sea and an advance through southern Ukraine in April met stiff resistance by the Red Army and collapsed.

A Model State

Setbacks in the North Caucasus and Ukraine pushed the Russian Army back toward Crimea. Wrangel used the peninsula as his base to establish law and order, reorganize the army, and create a model anti-Soviet state.

Under Wrangel’s administration, shops opened, postal services operated, and trains ran again. Despite these social and economic strides, the overall war effort kept deteriorating. The British withdrew aid and began negotiating with the Bolsheviks. Wrangel knew millions of pounds’ worth of supplies had been frittered away on Denikin’s army. But after Wrangel cracked down on corruption, foreign aid stopped.

As head of the anti-Soviet government in Crimea, Wrangel rolled out a more liberal social and political policy than Denikin entertained.

“I am trying to make life possible in Crimea, at least on this little patch,” Wrangel announced. “To show the rest of Russia: you have communism there, that is, hunger and emergency, and here…order and possible freedom are being established. No one is strangling you; no one is torturing you—live as you lived before.”

The Baron decided to avoid another march on Moscow. Instead, he concentrated on creating a model state characterized by democracy, economic stability, workers’ rights, and agrarian reforms. He also advocated for broad Ukrainian autonomy.

One of these laws transferred most of the landowners’ land to the peasants but held the government responsible for reimbursing the landowners. The problem was that this reimbursement exceeded the land value due to rampant inflation. If the imperial government had passed this law before 1917, it might have prevented the Revolution. Compared to the Soviets’ sweeping promises, most peasants had little incentive to join the Whites now.

For a time, Wrangel created a model state intended to make the citizens of “Sovdepia” envy them.

The outbreak of the Polish-Soviet War bought the anti-Bolsheviks some valuable time. Taking advantage of the Red Army’s troop diversion, Wrangel launched a cavalry attack to break out of the peninsula. His tactical combination of horses, tanks, airplanes, and armored trains resulted in a resounding victory that defeated Dmitry Zhloba’s cavalry units and captured 9,000 prisoners. Wrangel’s combined arms tactics anticipated those employed in future wars.

Last Stand

The anti-Bolshevik state in the Crimea only lasted six months.

In October 1920, the Red Army dealt the Russian Army a fatal blow at the Soviet bridgehead at Kakhovka on the left bank of the Dnieper. Meanwhile, the Polish Army overpowered the Red Army near Warsaw that autumn. Although the Polish Army could have marched on Moscow, Józef Piłsudski refused. Neither Wrangel nor Piłsudski supported each other in the past, and Wrangel had not recognized Polish independence. As a result, the Polish-Soviet truce in October 1920 sealed the fate of anti-Bolshevik Crimea.

While the French government recognized Wrangel’s Government of South Russia, the lack of internal resources and external aid proved fatal for the White movement. Without coal, oil, military supplies, or food resources, it became only a matter of time before the Russian Army collapsed under the onslaught of the victorious Red Army.

Flight From Crimea

In November 1920, the besieged White forces braced themselves for attack. Five Red Army columns combined to strike the exhausted Russian Army during the Perekop-Chongar Operation. Determined to prevent Wrangel from maintaining his foothold in Crimea, Lenin ordered his commanders to wipe the Russian Army off the map.

As winter came on, an unequal fight began. The Whites had only 41,000 infantry and cavalry, who fought on foot due to a lack of horses, and 213 artillery pieces. In contrast, the Soviets employed a force of 200,000 troops, 40,000 cavalry, 17 armored trains, and 98 artillery pieces.

The White defensive line clung on despite overwhelming enemy forces. In the early hours of November 11, 1920, the Red Army crossed the frozen Syvash Marsh in a surprise attack and broke through the Russian Army’s defenses at Perekop. Under cover of predawn, the White Army fell back to the sea to avoid annihilation.

With fate staring him in the face, Wrangel tried to ensure that this evacuation did not mimic Denikin’s disastrous attempt.

After the Perekop breakthrough, Wrangel appealed to the people: “The Government of the South of Russia considers it its duty to warn everyone about the severe trials that await those arriving from within Russia…The government advises all those who are not in immediate danger from enemy violence to remain in the Crimea.”

Many people decided to stay. Tens of thousands of soldiers and civilians subsequently succumbed to the Red Terror which the victorious Soviets dealt out after conquering Crimea. Still, Wrangel managed to evacuate 145,693 people on 126 ships from the ports of Yalta, Sevastopol, and Feodosia. This number included 50,000 soldiers, army officials, civilians, and 6,000 wounded. The ships transported the refugees to the Gallipoli Peninsula and the Greek island of Lemnos.

Despite its limitations, Wrangel’s evacuation avoided mass panic, demonstrated greater organization, kept the core of the Russian Army together, and shipped about 100,000 more people to safety compared to the previous evacuation attempt.

An Opponent in Exile

Life for refugees on Lemnos was hard. They had no resources, no passports, and no country.

Wrangel landed in Constantinople, where he organized the army for the next two years. In 1922, Wrangel founded the Russian All-Military-Union to unite and support 100,000 military émigrés and continue a political and psychological struggle against Soviet power.

The Black Baron’s strong reputation in the émigré community and his ability to successfully lead troops meant that the Soviets kept trying to discredit or destroy him.

Sickness or Murder?

In 1924, Wrangel emigrated to Belgium where he worked as an engineer. Now the man who once faced down the Bolsheviks on the battlefield feared only one thing: poisoning.

As it turned out, his fears may have been justified.

During the 1920s, the Soviets ramped up their espionage activities in Europe. The next few years witnessed an increase in former White émigrés-turned-Soviet-spies and double agents. This resulted in the kidnapping, disappearance, and murder of several high-profile anti-Bolshevik leaders.

Things took a turn in March 1928 when Wrangel’s orderly, Yakov Yudikhin, asked Wrangel to take in his refugee brother. The baron agreed.

As it turned out, this “brother” was a sailor on a Soviet ship.

When the sailor left on March 8, the general fell suddenly and violently ill. At first, it seemed like a winter cold, accompanied by a high fever, stomach pain, and coughing. Doctors could not agree on a diagnosis. Doctor Weiner diagnosed the baron with intestinal issues. Meanwhile, Ivan Aleksinsky thought Wrangel had influenza. Three days later, three doctors admitted the situation looked more dire than they initially realized.

An analysis revealed that the baron’s lungs were riddled with Koch’s bacilli. The general grew worse daily. He began to hallucinate. Imagining himself back on the battlefield, he tried to get up, directed military operations, and gave endless orders.

After suffering for over a month, General Baron Pyotr Nikolayevich Wrangel died on April 25, 1928. The Black Baron’s sudden death convinced his family and some later historians that an OGPU agent used poison to infect him with a fast-acting bacteria. He died just six months before the discovery of penicillin. For the hundreds of emigrants at his funeral, Wrangel’s death seemed like the end of their hopes to restore their motherland.

Always With Honor

It’s no secret that Wrangel was a strict commander who balanced courage and a sense of honor with military expediency.

While he was a monarchist, the baron believed Russia needed an elected, democratic form of government. He created a short-lived model state based on democratic principles and agrarian reform.

In exile, the general fought for his soldiers’ welfare and waged an ideological war against the Soviets. The Black Baron’s reputation as arguably the most competent anti-Bolshevik commander made him a formidable opponent until his death.

The invention of the telephone transformed human history, and for 150 years, Alexander Graham Bell has been widely lauded as its sole inventor. History is rarely straightforward, and in this case, there was a race to patent. Technicalities with timing, issues with corruption, and charges of theft leave the “facts” open to interpretation.

And perhaps the credit for the invention should really go to a man named Elisha Gray…

Alexander Graham Bell, Elisha Gray, and the World’s Most Famous Patent

On February 14, 1876, two crucial legal documents were filed with the US Patent Office in Washington, DC. One was a patent application delivered by Alexander Graham Bell’s attorney, and the other was a caveat, a statement of intent delivered by Elisha Gray’s lawyer. Both documents stated an intent to invent the telephone. 

According to popular belief, Bell was able to claim the rights to the telephone simply because his lawyer arrived at the office first. This belief, however, came from an incorrect assumption. Bell’s lawyer did not arrive first, nor would it have mattered. The system was based on the first to invent, not the first to file.

According to Gray, his caveat was filed before Bell’s application and therefore sat at the bottom of the in-basket. Meanwhile, Bell’s lawyer had requested that his receipt be filed immediately. Thus, the order in which they appeared in front of patent examiner Zenas Wilber was not necessarily the order in which they were submitted. 

Wilber claimed, under oath, that he found Bell’s receipt ahead of Gray’s and determined Bell’s application to have been delivered earlier. He admitted that he failed to investigate further. 

The issue with timing, however, wasn’t the real scandal. 

The Variable Resistance Breakthrough and the Liquid Transmitter

Gray’s caveat included a diagram for a liquid transmitter. This device has a short wire attached to an acoustic membrane. While one end of the wire is in water, it creates a variable resistance in response to an incident sound wave. This results in an undulating current, which causes the receiver to reproduce the original sound with a much higher degree of accuracy. 

It has been suggested that Bell’s design lacked this refinement and that an addition was made to the patent after Bell had illegally seen Gray’s caveat. Bell’s invention, the following month, suspiciously included this form of transmitting sound, replacing his previous idea of the “harmonic telegraph.” On March 10, Bell publicly demonstrated the first working telephone, declaring into the receiver the famous words, “Mr Watson, come here. I want to see you.”

While suspicions were certainly present, Bell and Gray met in June and seemed to put legal matters behind them, managing to conduct an amicable and professional relationship. 

Corruption and the Confessions of Zenas Wilber

According to Seth Shulman in his book, The Telephone Gambit, which details the events, Zenas Wilber was an alcoholic who owed money to Marcellus Bailey, Bell’s attorney. This was a violation of the Patent Office regulations, and to pay Bailey back, Wilber showed him Gray’s caveat. Bailey originally assumed that Gray had submitted a design for a harmonic telegraph. When he saw that Gray had submitted a caveat for a telephone, Bailey contacted Bell, who was in Boston at the time, and advised him to come to Washington, DC immediately. 

When Bell arrived, Wilber showed him the patent, and Bell gave him $100. Bell then amended his patent to include forms of “transmitting vocal or other sounds telegraphically.” Days later, Bell drew a diagram in his books that was very similar to the diagram Gray had drawn in his application. His application was accepted, and Gray’s was denied. 

Six Hundred Lawsuits and the Supreme Court Verdict

In 1877, Bell, along with Gardiner Hubbard and Thomas Sanders, founded the Bell Telephone Company. Much of the company’s financial success was due to its aggressive, litigation-heavy reputation. In the two decades since its founding, it battled nearly 600 patent lawsuits, several of which went to the Supreme Court. 

In 1878, Western Union hired Elisha Gray and Thomas Edison in a bid to challenge the Bell Telephone Company. Although the latter company held the patent to the telephone, Western Union held certain better components, and claimed Bell’s telephone patent was a case of fraud. The Bell Telephone Company sued for patent infringement, and on November 10, 1879, the court ruled in its favor.

In 1888, the Supreme Court found that claims of fraud against Bell’s patent could not be sustained, and claims of a prior telephone invention by Daniel Drawbaugh were found lacking. In another case, a few years later, the government brought a lawsuit to annul the patent, but the suit was tainted with corruption and conflict of interest, leading to its failure in 1897.

The aggressive reputation of the company from a business and legal perspective, however, can hardly be attributed to Bell. He removed himself from running the business and left it in the hands of his partners. He kept only ten shares in the business and gave the rest of his shares to his wife, Mabel, who was the daughter of Gardiner Hubbard, and whom he married on July 11, 1877.

The situation left a bitter taste in Bell’s mouth, and he went back to his previous vocation of working with the deaf, vowing never to enter the telephone business ever again.

The 150 Year Legacy of a Stolen Idea

Modern interpretations of the events favor the idea that Bell’s methods were not entirely legal. Unsurprisingly, Elisha Gray’s claims have gained popular interest in the media, as the public has always had a particular affection for a good underdog story. The debate isn’t completely one-sided, however, and Bell does have his defenders. 

Dr. Benjamin Brown, professor emeritus of physics in the Klingler College of Arts and Sciences at Marquette University, believes his research settles the entire dispute, and evidence certainly shows Bell to have invented the telephone before Gray. A letter from Bell’s fiancé, Mabel, dated January 17, 1876, mentions that Bell had added the liquid telephone transmitter to his patent application. 

There is also the lack of evidence for Gray’s attorneys’ claims that information was passed to Bell’s associate, George Brown, on January 26, 1876. Brown was the publisher of the Toronto Globe and kept detailed notes of daily submissions; his notes fail to mention any receipt of information about Gray’s telephone on that day. This helps disprove the notion of Gray’s chronological priority.

Furthermore, Zenas Wilber’s claims have been challenged. He submitted several affidavits which contradict each other, and in none of them is the mention that Bell’s patent application was changed after submission. 

Thus, Dr. Benjamin Brown concludes that there was no act of plagiarism. 

Whether or not a certain element of Bell’s invention was appropriated by illegal actions, there is no denying the revolutionary quality of his invention. The question, however, remains whether Alexander Graham Bell was a visionary who legally integrated ideas or an underhanded strategist who used legal loopholes to claim the honor (and profit) of inventing the telephone first. 

In 1835, the Mexican state of Texas declared its independence, sparking the Texas Revolution. The brief but intense conflict resulted in Texas winning its sovereignty by force of arms. Mexico, however, did not want to let Texas go quietly, and briefly invaded the new republic with raids during the early 1840s. 1845 saw a major geopolitical change as the United States agreed to annex Texas as one of its states. Texas became the 28th state, thus making its border with Mexico the United States’ border with Mexico. A year later, war erupted between the two nations over the Texas border dispute. Why did Mexico’s leader, General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, ultimately lose Texas permanently in this conflict?

Who Is Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna?

General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna began his life in New Spain as a child born to a respected Spanish family. The boy’s father served as a functionary for the Spanish government in the Veracruz region. As a young teen, Santa Anna worked for a merchant in the city and in 1810 went to a military academy. During the 1810s, Santa Anna fought insurgents and Native Americans who rebelled against the government, where he developed a reputation for bravery. In March 1821, however, Santa Anna switched sides in the ongoing Mexican Revolution, joining the Mexican revolutionaries against the Spanish government.

When Mexico won its independence, Santa Anna became the state governor of Veracruz. In 1829, beginning a trend that would continue throughout his life, Santa Anna returned to military status from civilian “retirement” to head off the Spanish invasion at Tampico. The success of Santa Anna at Tampico, ending Spain’s hope of reconquering Mexico, made him a war hero. In 1833, thanks to his heroic image, Santa Anna was elected president of Mexico… for the first of several non-consecutive terms.

Mexican Texas

During the 1820s and early 1830s, while Santa Anna was becoming a renowned military hero, the Mexican state of Coahuila y Texas was growing popular with settlers from the United States. This settlement was encouraged by Mexico, as it feared Texas’ sparse population made it a target for potential takeover by foreign rivals. Empresarios worked as agents for the Mexican government to encourage settlers by offering land grants. Tensions arose as many settlers from the United States brought their slaves to work the agriculturally-suited land of East Texas. Slavery was illegal in Mexico, though the state of Texas had granted a temporary exception.

The early 1830s saw tensions increase as more white settlers arrived in Texas but maintained cultural ties to the United States. New Mexican president Santa Anna disliked the considerable autonomy given to the state of Texas and wanted to centralize power. He was incensed that settlers in the state were making political demands and organizing their own conventions. In 1835, Santa Anna overthrew the Constitution of 1824, creating a centralized Mexican state and granting himself absolute power.

Santa Anna and the Texas Revolution

The suspension of the Constitution of 1824 was the final straw for independence-minded Texians, though shooting had already started. A month before the suspension of the constitution, Santa Anna had sent an army to Texas to seize a cannon that he thought might be used in an independence movement. October 2, 1835, saw Texians fire on Mexican dragoons (mounted infantry) at Goliad, sparking the Texas Revolution. By December, emboldened Texians had forced Mexican garrisons past the Rio Grande River.

General Santa Anna (having abdicated his presidency) responded with force, arriving in Texas in February 1836 with a sizable army. They defeated the Texians at the Alamo and Goliad, executing almost all survivors. This brutality, adopted by Santa Anna from his mentors as a young officer, had the opposite effect of its intention: rather than cowing the Texians with fear, it steeled their resolve. In April, the Texians struck with the element of surprise in the Battle of San Jacinto, routing the Mexicans and capturing Santa Anna himself shortly after the battle. As a prisoner, Santa Anna signed the Treaty of Velasco, granting Texas independence on May 14, 1836.

Santa Anna After Texas Independence

The Texians originally held Santa Anna to ensure the Mexican military followed through on the terms of the Treaty of Velasco, but eventually allowed him to travel to Washington, DC, from where he returned to Mexico the following year. On May 20, 1836, the Mexican government had disavowed the treaty, arguing that Santa Anna signed only under duress as a prisoner-of-war. However, the United States quickly recognized Texas independence, extending formal recognition on March 3, 1837—only a few weeks after Santa Anna arrived back in Mexico.

The loss of Texas and Santa Anna’s brutality during the war harmed his reputation, as did his agreement to sign the Treaty of Velasco. Fortunately for the general, a new crisis erupted that made his skills valuable: France invaded Veracruz, Mexico, over unpaid debts incurred in fighting the Texas Revolution. The French were also upset over damage to a bakery owned by a French pastry chef, giving the conflict the name Pastry War. General Santa Anna emerged from retirement, rallied the troops, and forced the French out of the city. In the fighting, he lost his leg to French cannon fire.

Santa Anna and Texas Statehood

As during the Mexican Revolution, Santa Anna’s bravery in combat made him a folk hero. This allowed the general to claim the presidency once again in an acting capacity in both 1839 and 1841. After claiming the presidency in 1841, Santa Anna became a de facto dictator thanks to the Bases of Tacubaya (a plan to restructure the Mexican government) on September 28. Six months later, Santa Anna sent an army to San Antonio, Texas, as a form of harassment and retaliation—he lacked the resources to attempt to retake the state. The Vasquez Raid, named after Mexican general Rafael Vasquez, ended after two days, but caused much panic across Texas.

A larger raid in September 1842, under General Adrian Woll, held the town of San Antonio for a week. Texians resisted fiercely, but it was clear that the small republic could not win a prolonged campaign against Mexico. As a result, an increasing number of Texians came to support annexation by the United States. Texian President Sam Houston pushed for annexation, which was fiercely debated in the United States Congress due to Texas’ allowance of slavery. On December 29, 1845, Texas officially became the 28th state of the United States, a move supported by expansionist US president James K. Polk.

1846-48: The Mexican-American War

When Texas became a state, Santa Anna had been ousted from power and exiled after a popular uprising in December 1844, which included a mob disintering his buried leg and parading it through the streets. In exile in Cuba, Santa Anna watched as his home country and the United States moved toward war following Texas’ annexation. When war erupted in 1846, Santa Anna offered his military services. He also made a secret deal with the United States to end the war… but reneged on the deal and arrived in Mexico City ready to defend the nation.

Unfortunately for Santa Anna, who assumed a battlefield role, the US military was much swifter, better led on the battlefield, and more modernized than anticipated. The much larger United States Navy was able to dominate the coastlines and deliver troops close to Mexico City, while Santa Anna preferred a land-based conflict. The March 1847 amphibious landing at Veracruz, the largest in history at that time, allowed the US to get thousands of troops within striking distance of Mexico’s capital. Six months later, the city was captured. On February 2, 1848, the Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo officially ended the war, ceding more than half of Mexico’s territory—its northern portion—to the United States.

Why Did Santa Anna Lose Texas to the United States?

The Mexican-American War ended any hope of Mexico reclaiming Texas. By the end of the war, the US was a dominant military power with its own armaments industry. Mexico, by contrast, relied heavily on imported weapons from Europe (mostly left over from the Napoleonic Wars), which were largely obsolete. Likewise, Mexico lacked anything close to America’s bustling shipbuilding industry, eliminating any chance of competing militarily on the high seas. There was no real hope of Mexico ever being able to contest the results of the war.

Aside from the United States’ greater military strength, Mexico suffered from internal political and economic weaknesses that made it difficult to fight a rigorous war. In the years leading up to the Mexican-American War, Mexico had been rocked by civil wars, coups, and insurrections. There was also racial, ethnic, and sociopolitical strife due to centuries of Spanish rule and its Casta (caste) system. This lingering social hierarchy, coupled with Mexico’s use of unpopular conscription, made Mexico’s army primarily composed of illiterate, poorly-trained young people. Social discrimination, conscription, and lack of regular pay led to high desertion rates and a lack of discipline in Mexico’s military during the war, causing its underperformance.

Post-War Santa Anna

Santa Anna had gone into exile again, this time voluntarily, after his defeat in the Mexican-American War, allowing a new government to sign the Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo. Five years later, he was invited back to Mexico after a conservative revolt. Again, Santa Anna became an authoritarian ruler, this time proclaiming that he should hold office for life. The threat of war quickly loomed again between the US and Mexico, this time in disputed New Mexico territory. Fortunately, diplomacy won the day and Mexico sold the disputed territory in what became southern Arizona for $10 million in the Gadsden Purchase of 1854.

The sale of the Gadsden Purchase was seen as a corrupt deal by Santa Anna, with many Mexicans upset that he was selling more territory to the United States after the humiliating Mexican Cession of 1848. Accused of corruption, Santa Anna fled into exile yet again in 1855. In 1866, he tried to return to Mexico to help fight the French, who had installed Emperor Maximilian I in Mexico City. This time, Santa Anna’s offer of assistance was rejected by supporters of the Republic of Mexico, likely due to fear that the former dictator would once again try to gain executive power. For eight more years, Santa Anna remained in exile, struggling with eroding health, until finally being allowed to return to his country. He passed away on June 21, 1876, in Mexico City.

The 1950s saw the U.K. seeing and hearing American rock ‘n’ roll for the first time. From this, British musicians would create their unique sounds. By the 1950s, American culture, especially rock, began to take hold. Through movies, radio (usually pirate stations!), and albums introduced Elvis, Billy Haley, and the Comets, plus blues musicians like B.B. King. British kids took to this new, rebellious-sounding music like American kids. Future famous musicians like Mick Jagger, Pete Townshend, John Lennon, and Paul McCartney listened and learned. Iconic bands such as The Yardbirds, the Rolling Stones, and the Beatles took inspiration from them.

American rock influences even led to subgroups like the Teddy Boys. These kids dressed in Edwardian style and danced to music at the movies. This new style included the “Boston” haircut – greased, combed straight back, and cut square in the back. 

When Did the Invasion Start?

This musical invasion started on February 7, 1964, with the Beatle’s arrival in New York City. The four young men from Liverpool would perform on the Ed Sullivan Show two days later. Playing the pop song “I Want to Hold Your Hand” to a screaming, enthusiastic crowd gained an American toehold. 

With the Beatles here, other bands quickly followed. Over the next three years or so, U.K. bands dominated the music charts. Their dominance waned as their fewer chart-toppers appeared. One reason for this change is attributed to the Beatle’s refusal to tour after 1966. Changing musical tastes could have been another reason.

Who Were the Key Bands?

The Beatles, who started this movement, debuted first to American audiences. With their catchy lyrics, sounds, and mop-top haircuts, Beatles songs shot to the top. Following them across the Atlantic came more English groups adding their distinctive sounds.

Next came the Rolling Stones, which consisted of Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Charlie Watts, and Bill Wyatt. Their defiant attitude and bluesy guitar riffs showed their American blues influences. Early chart toppers for the Stones were August 1965’s “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” and “Ruby Tuesday.”

The Who’s American time began in late 1965. Their first album, My Generation, was released in late 1965 and fronted by the dominating Roger Daltrey, the Who combined pop and forceful hard rock. The band became known for great live performances and, later, rock operas. Townshend’s power chords helped their reputation. My Generation produced great hits like “My Generation”, “I Can’t Explain,” and “Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere.” Other important groups include The Animals, The Kinks, and Herman’s Hermits.

What Was the British Invasion’s Cultural Impact?

The British Invasion became a reversal of American rock and roll’s impact on the U.K. This went beyond music, influencing fashion, entertainment, and fashion. Music still had its place, creating new genres, among them psychedelic rock. Using lyrics and instruments, it aimed to develop emotions and sensations-a liberal use of drugs helped too. Even the Beatles took this route, starring in the animated movie” The Yellow Submarine.”

Mod Fashion came with the British bands. Differentiated by tailored suits, bold patterns, and bright colors. Patterns like polka dots, vibrant colors, and geometric patterns became the rage. Colors like red, orange, and yellow were dominant. The movement had go-go boots made famous for women by Linda Sinatra or Chelsea Boots for men. Counter-culture kids adopted these fashions, which helped define1960s styles.

Why Was the British Invasion Roll So Popular?

One explanation is that the British Invasion differed slightly from American rock. Each had its influences, movements, and sounds. For example, American rock and roll took in blues, country, and R&B, looking for sincere feelings and emotions. The Invasion, again by the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, drew more from the blues or rock but created their sound. 

Also, record labels and managers saw a good thing and capitalized. Once the Beatles landed on the tarmac, the race was on. It’s like how American baseball is today with talented Dominican, Japanese, and Korean players on MLB teams; these promoters sought after any talented British band or musician. Bands like The Kinks or The Zombies did well and sold many records. That dominance lasted from 1964 to 1967. During these three short years, few months had no Top Ten British hit.

Critics can’t deny the British Invasion’s impact. Bands from that era are household names and still seen as influential to young musicians.