To make matters worse, Herbert caught a winter cold. On top of all those distractions he had to write “reports—reports—reports” for every graduate seminar, which were “fatal to thesis work.”74
In February 1898 the explosion of the USS Maine in Havana harbor added the prospect of war with Spain to Herbert's list of distractions. The catastrophe was widely believed to be an act of Spanish sabotage, and war fever was at a high pitch. One week after the explosion President McKinley tried to cool public passions against Spain with a temperate speech to a huge crowd at the University of Pennsylvania. Herbert may have been at the event; he sent the program to his brother without comment.75
Herbert was “no jingo,” he told Fred. Nevertheless, he concluded that the united States was “not to be wholly condemned for interfering in Cuban affairs,” citing “disorder at our doors,” “un-Christian barbarities,” and the “Commercial interests of the united States.” Herbert thought that the United States would ultimately prevail if war came and that Spain should lose its last colonial possessions as a result. Current events compelled him to take a historical view of Spanish America, perhaps for the first time in his career. “At the opening of the century [Spain] was in possession of the whole American continent from the headwaters of the Missouri to Terra [sic] del Fuego.” But now “most of her possessions have been lost by revolution, all by incompetency.”76 No one could accuse Herbert of Hispanophilia in 1898.
Bolton's ruminations about the Spanish Empire show a distinct lack of interest in what would become his chief field of study. He emphasized his disinterest in things Spanish when he speculated about “learning a language (Not Spanish)” and preferred picking up Italian so that he could master Renaissance history.77 The days when he would defend Spanish civilization still lay far in the future.
Herbert's opinions about the war and Spain were influenced by McMaster, who thought the sinking of the Maine reason enough to go to war. McMaster's newspaper and magazine articles and speeches were widely publicized. Territorial expansion had been a good thing for the United States in the past, he analogized, and it would be a good thing now. McMaster thought that war would stimulate patriotism and might quiet social discontent in the United States, a position that eventually helped to convince historian Charles beard to conclude that the Spanish-American War was launched to quell domestic unrest. McMaster gave visual reinforcement to his bellicose ideas by decorating his office with Frederick Remington's “savage paintings,” as McMaster's biographer styled them.78
McMaster's choice of art and his high-blooded rhetoric must have impressed Herbert. His prominence as a public intellectual was impossible to miss. Politicos who found academic support for their views deeply appreciated McMaster. As Henry Cabot Lodge said, McMaster's ideas about expansion and the war were significant because he spoke “with the authority of an historian.”79 At Penn Bolton found a new model for professional success: a professor of history who wrote for popular audiences about the historical origins of the important issues of the day.
By the end of the school year Bolton's dissertation was not finished but Penn had renewed his fellowship. Bolton's work pleased McMaster, so one more year of effort would bring the degree if all went well. Fred's success brought renewed encouragement. He passed his examinations and secured the doctorate. Then came the perfect culmination of events when Wisconsin Normal in Milwaukee hired Fred. This justified everything that the Boltons had invested in higher education. If anyone doubted their wisdom, they had only to consider the esteemed professor, Dr. Frederick Bolton, the published scholar who lectured in Milwaukee. “I shall be glad when I have accomplished as much,” Herbert averred, and who could doubt his sincerity?80
With another summer behind him and Fred's gleaming success before him, Bolton plunged back into his work at Penn. Hoping to alleviate the distraction of having a toddler in the house, he rented a three-room, third-floor flat with a living room that was arranged as a study for Herbert. “Herbert is so nicely shut off from us that he is quite certain that he will be able to accomplish a good deal,” Gertrude wrote.81
It was time to finish the degree, and Herbert intended “to make every day count toward the desired end.” Scholarship was not all that Herbert had to think about. He had more privacy in the new home, but in some ways it was not as convenient as their former Philadelphia room, where a neighbor routinely took care of Frances so that Gertrude could get out during the day. Now Herbert babysat when Gertrude had errands or social engagements. Gertrude was not entirely shut in. During the evenings while Frances slept and Herbert studied, she enjoyed the cultural attractions of Philadelphia. She attended lectures and musicals at the Drexel Institute, only three blocks from their apartment.82 Nor had she forgotten her scholarly interests. At home she studied English Medieval history, perhaps as Herbert's study mate.
Bolton plugged away “ under the lash ‘must’ ” in this crowded but companionable setting. “McMaster accepts all my ideas without much comment,” Herbert wrote. “I don't know whether that augurs well or ill. He may tear me to pieces at the end.” In December McMaster accepted Bolton's most recent “batch of ‘negroes’ with the comment that it was ‘ very good.’ ”83 This was where matters stood at Christmas 1898.
In January disaster struck the Boltons when Frances developed a fever and then severe convulsions. The frightened Boltons, who were loving but inexperienced parents, doused Frances with cold water and called for a doctor who decided that Frances's intestines were inflamed. After two days and nights of nursing, Frances's condition did not improve, although the doctor visited twice daily and Herbert got a woman in to help Gertrude during the day. Then Frances developed hives and a severe cold.84 The cash-strapped Boltons hired a nurse. The doctor prepared them for the worst when he said that Frances was “desperately sick.”85 Complications set in. Frances's bowels had stopped and poison was building up. Her abdomen, face, and limbs were bloated “fearfully” and her pulse ran at 150 beats per minute. It was “now a question of which way the tide goes.” “We only hope,” Herbert told his brother. “My faith in the result is weak.”86
With everything in the balance and the outlook bleak, on the last day of January the tide carried Frances back to the Boltons. The worst symptoms had abated and Herbert thought that she would survive, although the recovery period proved to be lengthy. It had been an expensive illness, but family members pitched in to defray expenses.87
Amidst the uncertainty and chaos of late winter, Herbert returned to his thesis. McMaster thought that it was better than the work he had seen from Harvard and that it should be published.88 With the dissertation approved, Bolton still had to pass his examinations. “I do not see how they can pluck me,” he mused, “but they might.”89 It was not likely that the Penn faculty would “pluck” Herbert at this stage of the game. They had arranged for him to lecture on his thesis before the Professors’ History Club, a group of faculty from Penn and other Philadelphia colleges.90
If he won the degree, Herbert believed, his best opportunity for college teaching would be in a normal school. Sometimes he wished that he had taken pedagogy and psychology like his brother, because it would have given him “a pull” at the normal schools.91 If he could not get a normal school job, Herbert was willing, even anxious, to teach high school if the pay was good. He was tired of being poor, tired of annual searches for summer jobs, tired of subjecting his wife and child to the inconvenience and risk of a life without money to spare. And while he was sure that he was a good teacher, uncertainty about his other abilities dogged him. “I have never thought I am a whale at originality,” he explained to Fred, “but I always thought I could teach some.”92 Herbert's insecurity in the final stages of his graduate education was natural enough. Like many doctoral students, he had taken in a mass of data and detail and was uncertain about how to digest it. Nor did he know whether his work was worthwhile in the eyes of others. He thought it would take an additional
