It‟ s only 3.30 am. local time , and I am wandering around the corridors like a ghost; I have still not adjusted.
The mystery of yesterday's broken lift has been solved: according to the management's letter of explanation, on the night before I arrived there was an "electric storm" - whatever that means. The point is that it managed to screw up, not only the electrics in the hotel, but in the whole of Chicago; that might be why there are sirens constantly going off. Talking of sirens reminds me to include a few lines about Chicago's shady past.
Its "official nickname" is the Windy City, a name coined in the 1880s, by a newspaper describing the weather conditions of the 1883 World Fair. This originally pejorative adjective was welcomed by the city, although over the last 100 years it has been the basis for many risque jokes. Most Chicagoans would be pleased if it was only windy weather that people thought of when hearing the city's name, but this, unfortunately, is not the case. The word Chicago has been, up until now, synonymous with the Italian mafia, and organized crime, and I can't see this changing very soon: there are probably hardly any cities in the world which do not have a crime-ridden district called "Chicago" by the local criminals.
The city can attribute the dubious aspects of its name to just one person: Alphonse Gabby May Capone, or, to use his shorter and more familiar names, Al Capone, or Scarface. According to criminologists, Al was, and always will be, the most famous criminal in the history of crime; and as such, he deserves my account of his riveting and varied career.
He was born in the Brooklyn slums in 1899, and with all the constant gang warfare, was immediately plunged into the deep end of criminal life. For him, there was no alternative to becoming a criminal, as being born into a world of crime. As a young man he was a talented streetfighter, gaining his famous scar in a barfight. But even so, despite his well–known career, no murders were ever pinned on him, though, in 1919, he was forced to move to Chicago, because of his involvement in a double-murder trial.
He couldn't have found a better place.
In the Chicago of the 20‟s, every Italian wanted to be a gangster.
He started by joining John Torrio's gang, and established his fame by having the rival gang-leader,”Big” Colosimo, kil ed. With his talent for organization, and his merciless brutality, he very soon made it clear to his boss that he would become a talented mafioso. These are two traits that are
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absolutely essential if you are to embark on such a nerve-racking career. By 1924, conditions in Chicago had almost reached a state of war, causing Torrio to retire from such a stressful life, and leave the whole of his criminal empire to Al.
Thus, Al, at only 26, became king of Chicago.
His gang had over 1000 members, not one of whom was a debutante. One of the secrets of his instant success was his ability to work easily with the Irish, Polish and Jewish factions, which, for the time, was very unusual. His ruthlessness had no limits: for instance on one occasion, after being accused of betraying him, he himself smashed in the heads of several of his gang-members, with a mace. By 1929 every gang in Chicago, except for one, was under his control. Given his nature, Al knew no way to handle problems and conflicts, other than through violence. Dressing up his gang as policemen, he got them to stop Bugsy Moran, the only man who would not acknowledge his authority.
He put the seven men up against a wall, and with a long, machine-gun shot excecuted them all. This was the infamous St. Valentine's Day Massacre, which proved a turning point in Al's career.
The heads of the Italian mafia all over America, previously not over-scrupulous themselves, were deeply shocked by this, especially as it now placed all their gangs in the spotlight. Mafia connections within the police and political system were unhappy about Al's sudden fame. So, at a meeting of the Mafia leaders, in order to smooth things over, and calm down the public, it was decided to make Al
"voluntarily" confess to a few petty crimes and go to prison. He did so, although his room looked more like a luxury hotel room than a prison cell; he was also able to make telephone calls, so he could continue to run his gang from the Governor's office.
Al's fall was caused by the fact that he could not recognise any limits.
Almost every major criminal brings about his own downfall, as few of them are able to keep a sober sense of judgement. After a while, they begin to lose contact with reality, and become unable to forsee the consequences of their actions. On one occasion, Al, watched by several corrupt police officers, gave the mayor a kicking, on the steps of his very own office; thus it was not surprising that he thought he could get away with anything.
But one of the special agents in the Treasury, Frank J. Wilson, did not see it that way.
When it became clear that the local police had neither the means nor the intention of standing up to Al, Wilson decided to start a legal procedure involving various cases of tax fraud against the world-famous gangster. Al, following his owns instincts, and the practices of the time, tried to have Wilson killed, but his plan was discovered by the secret service, resulting in Torrio, his old boss, persuading him to give up the idea. This gave Wilson the opportunity to investigate Al's accounts, which led directly to Al's imprisonment. This time, even his influential friends were unable to help him.
He went through several jails before arriving at the legendary prison island of Alcatraz, where his
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fellow-inmates showed him no respect whatsoever. A particular cause for their turning against him was his refusal to take part in a prison strike, which increased his isolation from the other inmates even more. His syphilis, contracted earlier, began to develop, increasing his mental deterioration, and so, in 1939, he was released. By then the snake had lost its fangs. He spent most of the remaining eight years of his life in a state of mental confusion, residing at his family's Florida estate until his death in 1948.
This was the brief life and ignominious death of America's first Public Enemy No. 1.
By today, Al Capone's once-feared face has become nothing more than a commercial product, which you can buy on souvenir shop T-shirts for a couple of dollars.
Today, my day started early.
First I went to the Sedd Aquarium. I'd found a brochure somewhere, which mentioned it. It took me just over 15mins by taxi from the hotel, but it was worth the journey. The Sedd was built as an aquarium, and is not a converted building. Its design has made it world-famous, and its glass tank is the envy of all other aquariums.
For those of us who really appreciate water-habitats, it is Eden itself.
The various aquatic communities are grouped according to their geographical area. The tanks are spacious, deep, well-lit and full of rarely seen species. They did not spare the cash when they built this! I saw fish that I only knew from scientific documentaries on television. There were large and small, colourful and plain, meat-eaters and plant-eaters; and all just a few feet from each other, in a top quality environment, with full explanatory texts. There is a separate dolphinarium beside the institution, where the public is given a surprisingly sub-standard show. It is unbelievable how strong dolphins are. With just a quick burst of speed, they can shoot their muscular bodies up to 15 ft. out of the water! Their performance brought enthusiastic gasps from the audience. During their most spectacular stunt, they actually managed to stand on the tips of their tails. Imagine what strength and agility must be needed to do that!
According to the beautiful announcer the show is only just being put together; the animals are being trained continuously, and the final performance is beginning to take shape. To compensate the audience for watching an unfinished show, they are allowed to watch the training session free; thus everyone can see that the animals do these tricks of their own free will: they are not aggressively pressured by their trainers. Also, children are not banned from contact with the creatures: there is a seperate area where they can touch them.
One of the Sedd's most spectacular features is their 3-D cinema, which, of course, is all about the
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world beneath the sea. The technology involved is so highly developed that it is not called 3-D, but 4-D! It is a really fascinating event.
Complex machinery is installed in the seats, which works in synchronisation with the images on the screen, greatly increasing the quality and realism of the experience. The combination of all these technologies brings about the "4-D" experience, although it's possible a true physicist might not completely agree with the definition. When the Great White Shark sinks back into the ocean, clutching its prey between its jaws, you'll actually get so much sea-spray on your face, you won't be able to wipe it off. The sight of penguins waddling about at the South Pole is accompanied by blasts of cold air. During a raging thunderstorm your seat will shake, and when someone throws a spear on screen, suddenly something will prod you from the back of your seat.
Americans love it all, and so do I. It's interesting to see how intensely and openly they express their feelings. Even mature men, along with their children, will scream at the scary sights on the screen, and, while laughing out loud at the funny parts, they will indignantly boo the scenes they don't like. It's impossible not to get involved yourself, and soon you'll find yourself laughing along at every joke, and the person sitting next to you in the dark will quickly become your good pal.
Everyone is constantly eating or drinking something. The sound of rustling paper-bags, the hiss of fizzy drinks being opened and the slurping of many straws, is non-stop. Compulsive eating is a typical characteristic of everyone here. I have to make sure I don't pick it up, and go home rolling in fat.
There's never any difficulty in finding something to eat. In the aquarium restaurant the menu is so long as to be unreadable; I have to ask the girl at the cash-desk for advice, as I don't want to spend the rest of the day reading it. Everything is super-sized. There's no such thing as a 30ml bottle - they start at 0.5l, and the average is 700ml.
In coming to the aquarium this morning I was not following my original plan, which was for an afternoon visit, but now it is only 12.30 pm. and so I jump in a taxi to go on to the Field Museum, the great treat of my short visit to Chicago.
This is one of the best-known science museums in the world. When I'm abroad I always like to visit the local science museum, if I have the time, and my Chicago trip is no different. The best science museum I've ever seen was in New York, but, apparently, the Field is even better. For hunters, such a visit is a must, especially as Széchenyi came here too, and mentioned it in his Alaskan hunting diary.
So, in front of the Sedd I hail a cab and give the driver the address. He starts the meter, and asks me if I know where it is. When I reply "No", he gives a big grin, and, pointing at the building right in front of us, we slowly roll the 1500 ft., for the sum of $3.00.
Like a true gentleman, I have not walked one step!
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For me, the most anticipated diorama of the museum's permanent collection, is the one of the two lions which became famous as the Man-Eaters of Tsavo. These two lions are the most famous pair in the history of hunting. Tsavo, which means "massacre", already has sinister connotations, and the name foreshadows the terror that was to overtake East Africa ...
It so happened that, at the end of the 19th century, the various powers that had colonised Africa began to compete for the last remaining uncolonised territory . This was the area that is now Uganda.
The struggle was to be won by whoever first completed the railway. Naturally, the British were part of the fight, and in 1896 construction work began under the leadership of the commissioner, George Whitehouse. Two years later, on the 8th March 1898, another character entered the story: the newly-appointed engineer from the Foreign Office, Colonel Henry Patterson.
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Four days after arriving, he noticed, with some irritation, that there was no British flag flying at the work-camp on the banks of the Tsavo River. One of his servants, Narain, volunteered to make one, using pieces of fabric from the storeroom. But Narain was not to receive the rewards of his labours from his master: the day after he finished, he, together with a coolie, disappeared without a trace.
They were the first official victims of the man-eaters.
The following day, one of Patterson's staff, out reconnoitering, came upon Narain's blood-stained clothes. It was then that the Colonel realised that his servant had been the victim of a lion attack.
Then, again the next day, the attacks continued: the lion - they did not yet know there were two killers
- snatched the Colonel's huge Sikh servant Ungan Singh, right from his tent, in front of six terrified onlookers. The eye-witnesses could hear Ungan's hopeless fight against the lion; Patterson even mentions in his book that the Sikh "had a hard death".
After examining the remains they deduced that there were two lions. Further examination showed that the lions had fought over the body of the unfortunate man, whose head, strangely, had remained untouched. These events were impossible to conceal from the inhabitants of the camp and the thousands of workers, especially as Colonel Patterson was seen entering his tent swinging Ungan's head. In the camp, panic had not yet broken out, but the Indian coolies, who comprised the majority of the workers, were already terrified.
According to Whitehouse "the camp is under siege".
Several workers had disappeared previously, but only now did the commander consider the possibility that they were not runaways; this, however, could not be proved at the time. Several security measures were introduced, one of which was that there would be one armed guard for every hundred workers.
But maintaining discipline became more and more difficult. The terrifying lion attacks were only one reason; Patterson, himself, was another. His excessive punishments included refusing to pay the workers, which reduced his popularity and authority, and contributed to the decline in morale.
Empathy was definitely not among his virtues. On one occasion, for example, when a coolie claimed to be ill, he had a fire lit beneath his bed, to force him to get up and keep on working.
Patterson then had a hide built, where he tethered two live goats as bait, hoping that he would be able to kill at least one of the lions. The lions, however, were after a more valuable quarry, and two more names were added to the list of victims; nor was this the end of the massacre. Because of the increasing frequency of the attacks, he decided to move his headquarters from the banks of the Tsavo. Only 300 workers remained at the camp to try and finish the work on the bridge over the valley.
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The remaining residents prepared for a war.
Lions versus men.
Hides, watchtowers and barricades were made, and a strengthened patrol guarded the camp. On one occasion Patterson shot at one of the man-eaters from a train carriage which had been converted into a hide; but he missed, a mistake that was to cost several lives. The courage and intelligence of the lions was amply demonstrated by the way they managed to regularly infiltrate the thorny fences protecting the camp, being quite obviously unafraid of the proximity of tents and people, and several times traces of them were found within the camp. As the lions learnt to work together with increasing harmony, discord in the camp grew accordingly; instead of uniting to try and track down the man-eaters, quarrels and rivalry broke out, leading to several murders.
The attacks went on.
For weeks and months.
They were running out of coolies. Work on the Tsavo bridge almost ceased. The camp residents now slept in huts built in trees, or in heavily protected underground shelters.
To go out at night was to court death.
Whitehouse was under huge pressure from British M.P.s and officials to meet the deadlines, so it became imperative to, somehow, solve the situation. The problem was that no-one could come up with a solution.
Whitehouse could see that Patterson and the other hunters in the camp were incapable of stopping the attacks, and so he decided to offer a bounty for every lion killed in the neighborhood of Tsavo. The call was heard, down to the very dregs of Africa, and soon a forest of tents sprang up beside the river.
From information found in a contemporary hunting book, we know that even W.D.M. "Karamojo" Bell, the greatest marksman and hunter in Africa, and a legend in his own lifetime, turned up in the vicinity for a short time. Even if this is true, it's certain that he did not spend much time amongst all the so-called lion hunters, but continued on his way. I'm sure if Bell had seriously decided to get the Tsavo man-eaters, their skins would soon have been hanging on his wall. There was nobody in the world who could shoot better than him, and probably no better hunter in the whole of the dark continent.
The policy of extermination began to produce results. Many animals were brought in by those claiming the bounty. In the summer of 1898 the attacks stopped, and it seemed that the war was over.
But Patterson still remained out of favor with the coolies, as is shown by the continuation of plots against him; they culminated in an unsuccessful attempt to kill him.
After all this, a sort of calm descended on the shore of the Tsavo. Work continued and nothing more was heard of the lions.
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Until the 17th November.
Then, that night, one of the lions cheekily leapt over the fence into the midst of the coolies; ignoring the burning torches thrown at him, as well as the bullets, he snatched one of the men, and with his lion-partner,devoured him within hearing range of the camp.
After that, all hell broke loose.
From then on the lions came nightly for their rations and, without exception, always turned up where they were least expected by the Colonel.
Everybody started to panic.
Every snapping branch signaled the approach of Death. Terror ruled the camp. No-one could work, as everyone lay wide-awake at night. Nobody was safe anywhere. Roaring loudly, the beasts would prowl around the camp each night.
Masses of workers deserted; only the sick and injured remained, and so construction work stopped completely. But the man-eaters continued their attacks.
Then, on the 9th December, the turning point was reached.
On this auspicious day, a native, visiting the camp, managed to spear one of the lions attacking him, which was then killed by another native. But this was a female, whilst Patterson and his men had been looking for males. In the general confusion the lioness‟s partner managed to snatch a mule and take it off to the jungle. The colonel quickly arranged a hunt with beaters, and took up his double rifle.
They managed to drive the lion to him, but then the first barrel jammed. He was about to discharge the other barrel, but succumbed to hunting fever and fired too late. The shot, however, did hit, though the lion escaped and could not be found. By that night, next to the mule‟s corpse, they had built an Indian-style watchtower and from it managed to shoot one of the man-eaters. Two weeks later, under similar circumstances, the other lion was dispatched to the Happy Hunting Grounds in the Sky, and peace came back to Tsavo. But in fact, to guess at the truth, there had probably been a third man-eater, a male, which was shot not by Patterson, but by a Boer hunter.
The question that then most preoccupied the public, as well as historians now, is: exactly how many people were killed by the infamous man-eaters.Well, according to Patterson the number of the victims was 135. This was his own assessment, and he probably felt that any who disagreed with his total was free to check it himself. Until quite recently this was the accepted figure, but the brave colonel did not take into account current scientific advances. Researchers from the University of California and the Field Museum, using carbon and natrium isotopes, have analysed the teeth, bones and fur of the two dead animals, and have reached a different conclusion. Their examinations prove that during the 9 months prior to their deaths, these animals ate respectively 11 and 24 people, though they only partially consumed them. The estimate of the number of people killed might be as high as 75, but
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cannot be more. According to the anthropologist, Nathaniel Dominy, Patterson wanted to use these exaggerated figures to boost his image amongst his contemporaries and for posterity.
As well as all the other mistakes and misunderstandings involving the Tsavo lions was the belief, -
incorrect-, that they fed only on human flesh. In fact, the truth is that the diet of one of the lions comprised about one third human flesh, while that of the other was only half that amount of the miserable coolies. Studies of the lions‟ behavior suggest that the animal that ate the most flesh was the predominant killer and as such would have the right to eat first from the prey.
It is not clear, however, what turned these animals into man-eaters. Damage to their teeth might have reduced their hunting and eating abilities, but what is also certain is that at the turn of the century the number of prey-animals in Kenya, because of various environmental effects, was temporarily reduced.
It‟s a fact that the skins of the two famous lions were bought in 1924 by the Field Museum, who had them stuffed, and it‟s also a fact that , right now, I am standing in front of them.
Széchenyi mentions that, looking at the skins of the two lions, we can even see the wounds that they got while creeping through the thorny barricades. Well, the wounds really are visible, but only to those who know what to look for. The right shoulder and flank of the standing lion are „decorated‟ with parallel scatches that not even the skil of the last century‟s taxidermist was able to conceal. The two skulls are also part of the exhibition, so you can even see the very teeth that ended the lives of so many workers at the end of the 19th century. Otherwise, the two stuffed animals are in such good condition that they will be admired for generations to come.
Another of the Field‟s attractions is Sue, the Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton, found in excellent condition, and the most complete in the world.
The museum‟s paleontological exhibition is sensational, even without Sue. Visitors are allowed to stand within arm‟s reach of the skeletons, so you don‟t have to try to decipher the details from miles away; we are free to stroll amongst remains of these fabulous creatures, some of which are over one storey in height. But time is running out. Still, I quickly slip into a 3-D cinema showing a film of the life of dinosaurs, as well as the work done by dino-hunters during excavations. Although it was a 3-D and not a 4-D cinema – nothing prodded my back, no water was spat in my eyes – we watched a film that in the fields of special effects and computer-modelling was quite unrivalled. The American public was loudly expressing its opinion at these marvels, and I soon joined the chorus.
It is noticeable that American museums are always crowded; if you arrive after the opening time you will have to stand in a long line. Popular belief says that Americans are not an especially cultured
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people. This is another of those negative stereotypes about Yanks which I often found to be untrue. In fact, many of them are able to find Hungary on the map, and what is more, some even know the name of our beautiful capital!
I wonder how many of Hungarians would know the