The Great Round World and What Is Going On In It, Vol. 2, No. 23, June 9, 1898: A Weekly Magazine for Boys and Girls

In Short

This periodical functions as a historical digest, specifically curated for young students at the close of the nineteenth century. It breaks down complex geopolitical conflicts, scientific advancements, and international relations into accessible, narrative-driven updates. By focusing on the Spanish-American War, the publication grounds its lessons in the urgency of current events, offering a window into how information was synthesized and disseminated to youth in 1898. Its enduring appeal lies in its role as a primary source, documenting the shifting American perspective on global power and colonial responsibility.

The Story

The narrative arc of this particular volume is dominated by the unfolding reality of the Spanish-American War, framed not merely as a military engagement but as a grand, unfolding drama of progress and morality. The magazine begins by setting the stage: the United States is no longer a localized power but a nation with global interests, now thrust into a conflict that stretches from the Caribbean to the Philippines.

As the reader moves through the pages, the focus shifts to the tactical maneuvering of the American fleet. The story follows the exploits of the Oregon on its long, arduous journey, and the subsequent "bottling up" of the Spanish fleet in Santiago harbor. The drama reaches a fever pitch with the sinking of the collier Merrimac, an act of deliberate obstruction meant to trap the enemy. Here, the magazine emphasizes the personal heroism of Lieutenant Richmond Pearson Hobson and his volunteers, casting their mission as a noble, perilous sacrifice.

Simultaneously, the publication navigates the complexities of the broader world. It reports on the growing necessity of annexing Hawaii to secure a naval path to the Philippines, and the moral quandary of what to do with Spanish colonies once liberated. The tone is consistently patriotic, yet it attempts a measured, almost academic overview of international law, discussing the implications of cable-cutting and the neutrality of other nations.

The story takes a somber turn when it moves beyond the war to the unrest in Sierra Leone, where a hut tax leads to a violent uprising and the tragic deaths of American missionaries. This juxtaposition—the triumphant, orderly narrative of naval warfare against the messy, chaotic reality of colonial resistance—creates a complex picture of the era’s worldview.

By the end of the volume, the reader is left with a sense of inevitability regarding American victory. The magazine concludes not with a final resolution of the war, but with a firm solidification of the American identity. Through lessons on the history of the flag and the responsibilities of a world power, the magazine leaves its young audience with the understanding that the "Great Round World" is an interconnected system where American influence is, for better or worse, the new, defining variable. The final impression is one of a nation stepping out of its isolation to assume a permanent, active role in global history.

How It Unfolds

A global conflict emerges The magazine establishes the United States’ military position, highlighting the disparity in losses between the American and Spanish fleets. It emphasizes the strategic importance of naval superiority and the physical endurance of American battleships.

The war at sea intensifies Reports focus on the blockade of Santiago and the innovative, if experimental, use of balloons and cinematographs to document and assist in the war effort. The narrative maintains a focus on the technological and tactical ingenuity of American forces.

The mission in the Philippines The magazine pivots to the Pacific, detailing the deployment of troops and the necessity of capturing Hawaii. It frames the American presence in the East as an inevitable step in ending Spanish cruelty.

Diplomatic and legal complexities The publication steps back to discuss how international powers perceive these movements. It examines the legal precedents set by cutting submarine cables and the difficulty of navigating neutrality agreements with European states.

Social and global instability The narrative briefly expands to include bread riots in Italy and the rebellion in Sierra Leone. These stories serve to contrast the organized war effort with the unpredictable nature of global political and economic unrest.

The final stand at Santiago The volume concludes with the dramatic sinking of the Merrimac and the subsequent chivalric exchange of prisoners. This final beat serves to validate the American sense of moral superiority in the conflict.

The People

The figures appearing in these pages are presented as archetypes of their respective nations and roles. Admiral George Dewey and Commodore Schley emerge as the personifications of American resolve and naval efficiency, their actions described with a sense of measured, disciplined pride. Lieutenant Richmond Pearson Hobson is the embodiment of youthful, sacrificial courage, his willingness to face "almost sure death" providing a moral center for the magazine’s patriotic narrative.

On the other side of the conflict, Admiral Cervera represents a fading but still noble order; his decision to inform the Americans of the safety of their prisoners is lauded by the publication as an act of a "noble man," signaling a respect for the enemy that transcends the immediate hostility of the war. Aguinaldo is introduced as a figure of uncertain potential, a local leader whose assistance is welcomed by American forces but remains a peripheral, perhaps problematic, element of the larger imperial project.

The missionaries in Sierra Leone, such as the Kanes and Miss Archer, appear as tragic figures, their deaths providing a sobering reminder of the costs of colonial administration. Finally, the "young reader" is an ever-present, silent figure—an audience of "Alma D.s" who are encouraged to collect books for soldiers and observe the world with an informed, dutiful eye.

In Its Own Voice

The cinematograph is a wonderful invention. By a clever arrangement hundreds of photographs are taken, one after the other, with marvellous rapidity; these pictures are printed on a long strip, and made to pass through the magic lantern as rapidly as when the photographs were taken; the result is a composite picture which, when thrown upon a screen, reproduces every motion.

(The editors describe the cutting-edge technology they hope will be used to record the war for the public.)

The Spanish fleet is not only bottled up now, but the cork is in the bottle.

(Following the sinking of the Merrimac, the magazine provides a simple, memorable metaphor for the strategic success of the blockade.)

It is true that Burton did precede Milutine.

(In a brief response to a reader’s letter, the editor provides a factual correction regarding the history of travel to Mecca.)

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is about the education of a citizen-in-waiting. It asks what constitutes a nation's responsibility when it possesses the power to intervene in the suffering of others. The text grapples with the transition from the parochial to the global, debating the morality of empire under the guise of "humanity's sake." It seeks to reconcile the violence of war with the ideals of a civilized, progressive society, constantly justifying American maneuvers as necessary for a greater, more stable order. Beneath the surface, it is a manual for moral and political alignment, teaching children that their country’s growth is not merely a matter of geography, but a burden of truth and value.

Why Read It Today

Reading this publication today offers a startling look at the intersection of journalism, education, and propaganda at the dawn of the American century. Readers interested in the history of media will find the advertisements—for talking machines, bicycle hangers, and language manuals—as revealing as the news reports. It is a dense, earnest, and occasionally dry read that captures a very specific, confident, and somewhat naive period of American history.

Modern readers must be prepared for the period’s casual assumptions regarding colonial subjects and the superiority of Western institutions. There is no attempt to hide the patronizing tone toward foreign nations or the uncritical support for American expansionism. However, the reward for navigating these attitudes is a genuine understanding of how 1898 felt to those living through it. The writing is direct and devoid of irony, providing a stark contrast to modern news cycles. It is a rewarding artifact for anyone who values the original, unvarnished voice of the past, preserved in the simple language of a weekly schoolroom lesson. You walk away with a profound sense of the era’s enthusiasm for technology, its faith in the power of the printed word, and its emerging, complex identity as a global force.