On July 23, 1914, most large international newspapers gave prominent coverage to Austria-Hungary's ultimatum to Serbia. The New York Times, for instance, devoted a full column on page 1 to report that "Austria Ready to Invade Serbia, Sends Ultimatum." (In contrast, the El Paso Herald limited its coverage to four paragraphs on page 8.)
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But the world also had other things on its mind apart from the escalating tensions in the Balkans.
British newspapers continued to focus on "the Irish problem" as The Guardian of London called it. The "problem" was Irish Catholics' push for independence and the counter demand by Ulster Protestants to remain with the Empire. The Guardian reported on July 23 that a conference of leaders of all political parties was to convene at Buckingham Palace in an attempt to head off what some feared may become a civil war on the island.
Also on page 1 of The Guardian was continuing its coverage of the salacious trial of Parisian socialite. It had all the makings of tabloid journalism: sexual affairs, a power couple who together were among the richest people in France, a political double-cross involving important legislation—and the killing of a newspaper editor.
Henriette Callaux was on trial for the shooting death of Gaston Calmette, editor of Le Figaro. Her husband, Joseph, was Finance Mininster. Calmette, a vocal opponent of Monsier Callaux, published a private letter of Callaux's which implicated him in scandalous conduct. Madame Callaux, fearing that Calmette would reveal more improprieties, including her own affair with Monsier Callaux before they had divorced their spouses, decided to protect her husband's reputation by killing the editor.
That plan didn't work so well.
The trial revealed a great detail not only about Madame Callaux but also her husband and seemingly everyone in government. On July 23, the day of Austria-Hungary's ultimatum to Serbia, European newspapers were feasting on the latest testimony by French President Poincarè. Having a French president testify in a criminal trial was a sensation never seen before. Even the HarrisburgTelegraph in Pennsylvania—and the El Paso Herald—saw fit to cover the story.
Madame Callaux was acquitted on July 28, the jurors having accepted the defense's argument that her crime was not premeditated but rather the act of uncontrollable female emotions. Male chauvinism reigned without question back then. The denouement went almost unnoticed. On that day, France was on the brink of war, and everyone's mind was on that.
On July 23, 1914, Americans were preoccupied with two conflicts close to their doorsteps: the Mexican Resolution led by Emiliano Zapata and the continued political unrest in Hispaniola, the Caribbean island shared by Haiti and the Dominican Republic.
Zapata's rebels were nearing Mexico City and newspapers in the United States were expressing concern about the possible harm that might befall United States citizens residing there. The Mexican president, Victoriano Huerta, reportedly left town in a hurry. The situation was described as "desperate."
In Hispaniola, President Wilson's secretaries of State and War began considering intervening in the unrest in Haiti and the Dominican Republic. The United States government was losing patience with problems there, according to the Harrisburg Telegraph. The newspaper justified an intervention on unspecified "European pressure." (There was some truth to that; Germany had gained substantial economic influence in Haiti by 1914.)
Long story short: By July 1913, the presidency of Haiti had changed six times in four years, thanks to a series of coups. In 1915, President Wilson had enough. He ordered 300 Marines to invade Haiti to safeguard interests of United States corporations. The occupation ended just 19 years later.
In 1916, it was the Dominican Republic's turn. It took two months for the United States to conquer the nation, due to a guerrilla insurrection. That occupation lasted eight years.
Though signs of war in Europe were ominous, there was the usual news to cover. In London, The Guardian's page 1 reported on harbor improvements, the installation of street fire alarms and an extension of electric works.
The New York Times reported on the possible dissolution of the perennially floundering New Haven Railroad. It also mentioned a libel suit filed against the young Franklin D. Roosevelt. The future President shrugged off the suit as inconsequential.
But the world also had other things on its mind apart from the escalating tensions in the Balkans.
British newspapers continued to focus on "the Irish problem" as The Guardian of London called it. The "problem" was Irish Catholics' push for independence and the counter demand by Ulster Protestants to remain with the Empire. The Guardian reported on July 23 that a conference of leaders of all political parties was to convene at Buckingham Palace in an attempt to head off what some feared may become a civil war on the island.
Also on page 1 of The Guardian was continuing its coverage of the salacious trial of Parisian socialite. It had all the makings of tabloid journalism: sexual affairs, a power couple who together were among the richest people in France, a political double-cross involving important legislation—and the killing of a newspaper editor.
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| A rival newspaper's illustration |
That plan didn't work so well.
The trial revealed a great detail not only about Madame Callaux but also her husband and seemingly everyone in government. On July 23, the day of Austria-Hungary's ultimatum to Serbia, European newspapers were feasting on the latest testimony by French President Poincarè. Having a French president testify in a criminal trial was a sensation never seen before. Even the HarrisburgTelegraph in Pennsylvania—and the El Paso Herald—saw fit to cover the story.
Madame Callaux was acquitted on July 28, the jurors having accepted the defense's argument that her crime was not premeditated but rather the act of uncontrollable female emotions. Male chauvinism reigned without question back then. The denouement went almost unnoticed. On that day, France was on the brink of war, and everyone's mind was on that.
 |
| Emiliano Zapata |
Zapata's rebels were nearing Mexico City and newspapers in the United States were expressing concern about the possible harm that might befall United States citizens residing there. The Mexican president, Victoriano Huerta, reportedly left town in a hurry. The situation was described as "desperate."
In Hispaniola, President Wilson's secretaries of State and War began considering intervening in the unrest in Haiti and the Dominican Republic. The United States government was losing patience with problems there, according to the Harrisburg Telegraph. The newspaper justified an intervention on unspecified "European pressure." (There was some truth to that; Germany had gained substantial economic influence in Haiti by 1914.)
 |
| Hispaniola |
In 1916, it was the Dominican Republic's turn. It took two months for the United States to conquer the nation, due to a guerrilla insurrection. That occupation lasted eight years.
Though signs of war in Europe were ominous, there was the usual news to cover. In London, The Guardian's page 1 reported on harbor improvements, the installation of street fire alarms and an extension of electric works.
The New York Times reported on the possible dissolution of the perennially floundering New Haven Railroad. It also mentioned a libel suit filed against the young Franklin D. Roosevelt. The future President shrugged off the suit as inconsequential.