VERNANIA: The Celebrated Works of Jules Verne in One Edition. Жюль Верн
its turn Texas replied that Florida need not envy its fevers, and that it was, at least, imprudent to call other countries unhealthy when Florida itself had chronic “vomito negro,” and Texas was not far wrong.
“Besides,” added the Texicans through the New York Herald, “there are rights due to a state that grows the best cotton in all America, a state which produces holm oak for building ships, a state that contains superb coal and mines of iron that yield fifty per cent. of pure ore.”
To that the American Review answered that the soil of Florida, though not so rich, offered better conditions for the casting of the Columbiad, as it was composed of sand and clay-ground.
“But,” answered the Texicans, “before anything can be cast in a place, it must get to that place; now communication with Florida is difficult, whilst the coast of Texas offers Galveston Bay, which is fourteen leagues round, and could contain all the fleets in the world.”
“Why,” replied the newspapers devoted to Florida, “your Galveston Bay is situated above the 29th parallel, whilst our bay of Espiritu-Santo opens precisely at the 28th degree of latitude, and by it ships go direct to Tampa Town.”
“A nice bay truly!” answered Texas; “it is half-choked up with sand.”
“Any one would think, to hear you talk,” cried Florida, “that I was a savage country.”
“Well, the Seminoles do still wander over your prairies!”
“And what about your Apaches and your Comanches—are they civilised?”
The war had been thus kept up for some days when Florida tried to draw her adversary upon another ground, and one morning the Times insinuated that the enterprise being “essentially American,” it ought only to be attempted upon an “essentially American” territory.
At these words Texas could not contain itself.
“American!” it cried, “are we not as American as you? Were not Texas and Florida both incorporated in the Union in 1845?”
“Certainly,” answered the Times, “but we have belonged to America since 1820.”
“Yes,” replied the Tribune, “after having been Spanish or English for 200 years, you were sold to the United States for 5,000,000 of dollars!”
“What does that matter?” answered Florida. “Need we blush for that? Was not Louisiana bought in 1803 from Napoleon for 16,000,000 of dollars?”
“It is shameful!” then cried the Texican deputies. “A miserable slice of land like Florida to dare to compare itself with Texas, which, instead of being sold, made itself independent, which drove out the Mexicans on the 2nd of March, 1836, which declared itself Federative Republican after the victory gained by Samuel Houston on the banks of the San Jacinto over the troops of Santa-Anna—a country, in short, which voluntarily joined itself to the United States of America!”
“Because it was afraid of the Mexicans!” answered Florida.
“Afraid!” From the day this word, really too cutting, was pronounced, the situation became intolerable. An engagement was expected between the two parties in the streets of Baltimore. The deputies were obliged to be watched.
President Barbicane was half driven wild. Notes, documents, and letters full of threats inundated his house. Which course ought he to decide upon? In the point of view of fitness of soil, facility of communications, and rapidity of transport, the rights of the two states were really equal. As to the political personalities, they had nothing to do with the question.
Now this hesitation and embarrassment had already lasted some time when Barbicane resolved to put an end to it; he called his colleagues together, and the solution he proposed to them was a profoundly wise one, as will be seen from the following:—
“After due consideration,” said he, “of all that has just occurred between Florida and Texas, it is evident that the same difficulties will again crop up between the towns of the favoured state. The rivalry will be changed from state to city, and that is all. Now Texas contains eleven towns with the requisite conditions that will dispute the honour of the enterprise, and that will create fresh troubles for us, whilst Florida has but one; therefore I decide for Tampa Town!”
The Texican deputies were thunderstruck at this decision. It put them into a terrible rage, and they sent nominal provocations to different members of the Gun Club. There was only one course for the magistrates of Baltimore to take, and they took it. They had the steam of a special train got up, packed the Texicans into it, whether they would or no, and sent them away from the town at a speed of thirty miles an hour.
But they were not carried off too quickly to hurl a last and threatening sarcasm at their adversaries.
Making allusion to the width of Florida, a simple peninsula between two seas, they pretended it would not resist the shock, and would be blown up the first time the cannon was fired.
“Very well! let it be blown up!” answered the Floridans with a laconism worthy of ancient times.
CHAPTER XII.
“URBI ET ORBI.”
The astronomical, mechanical, and topographical difficulties once removed, there remained the question of money. An enormous sum was necessary for the execution of the project. No private individual, no single state even, could have disposed of the necessary millions.
President Barbicane had resolved—although the enterprise was American—to make it a business of universal interest, and to ask every nation for its financial cooperation. It was the bounded right and duty of all the earth to interfere in the business of the satellite. The subscription opened at Baltimore, for this end extended thence to all the world—_urbi et orbi_.
This subscription was destined to succeed beyond all hope; yet the money was to be given, not lent. The operation was purely disinterested, in the literal meaning of the word, and offered no chance of gain.
But the effect of Barbicane’s communication had not stopped at the frontiers of the United States; it had crossed the Atlantic and Pacific, had invaded both Asia and Europe, both Africa and Oceania. The observatories of the Union were immediately put into communication with the observatories of foreign countries; some—those of Paris, St. Petersburg, the Cape, Berlin, Altona, Stockholm, Warsaw, Hamburg, Buda, Bologna, Malta, Lisbon, Benares, Madras, and Pekin—sent their compliments to the Gun Club; the others prudently awaited the result.
As to the Greenwich Observatory, seconded by the twenty-two astronomical establishments of Great Britain, it made short work of it; it boldly denied the possibility of success, and took up Captain Nicholl’s theories. Whilst the different scientific societies promised to send deputies to Tampa Town, the Greenwich staff met and contemptuously dismissed the Barbicane proposition. This was pure English jealousy and nothing else.
Generally speaking, the effect upon the world of science was excellent, and from thence it passed to the masses, who, in general, were greatly interested in the question, a fact of great importance, seeing those masses were to be called upon to subscribe a considerable capital.
On the 8th of October President Barbicane issued a manifesto, full of enthusiasm, in which he made appeal to “all persons on the face of the earth willing to help.” This document, translated into every language, had great success.
Subscriptions were opened in the principal towns of the Union with a central office at the Baltimore Bank, 9, Baltimore street; then subscriptions were opened in the different countries of the two continents:—At Vienna, by S.M. de Rothschild; St. Petersburg, Stieglitz and Co.; Paris, Crédit Mobilier; Stockholm, Tottie and Arfuredson; London, N.M. de Rothschild and Son; Turin, Ardouin and Co.; Berlin, Mendelssohn; Geneva, Lombard, Odier, and Co.; Constantinople,