H. G. Wells - War of the Worlds (1897) in Real Time

Antoinette Louise Clark, or as we now know her, Dame Antoinette Louise Clark, GCVO, completed her medical training, following in the footsteps of her friend, Grace Harwood Stewart. Her experiences during the Martian Invasion shaped her service, and she continued to work with those most in need, particularly the poor, elderly, and infirm of London, as it recovered from the disaster.

She was mentored by her great friend, Dame Elizabeth Cadbury (GCVO), and remained an active member of the suffragist movement.

History was indeed shaped by the momentous events Toni so emotively described in her journal. The suffragists achieved the vote much earlier than they would have, if the #Martians had not invaded. Their role in organising those left ‘below the line’ in 1897, gave them a connection with the ordinary people of London, that cannot be downplayed.

Once they’d achieved the vote, they went on to leap into politics. They’d shown their metal, been tested in fire, and where the government of the day had given up, they’d persevered. London had not forgotten, and in many cases, not forgiven.

Millicent Fawcett became one of the first female MPs, and Elizabeth Cadbury, as we now know, would go on to serve as Britain’s first female prime minister.

Toni herself entered politics after a distinguished medial career, and became Britain’s first female health minister. We owe the current equity of access to care to her determination to see no-one left behind, ever again.

She remained friends with @hgwellsbro until his death, but was occasionally heard to lament his execrable taste in underwear right up to her dying day. Apparently the stripes made a lasting impression.

From A Suffragette’s War of the Worlds, by Persephone Maxim-Carver, Maidestone Press, 1916:

My husband spent the next three months recovering in hospital, being treated in an oxygen tent. After the War, medical science, including treatment of the victims of the Black Smoke, grew by leaps and bounds. I visited him daily in his ward, along with Amanda, whom we’d adopted.

To his regret, due to his injuries, Roger would never return to sea. He was promoted to Captain and retired on a full pension. Yet life went on. We married in the fall and Roger became a loving husband and father and divided his time between writing and working with Grandfather.

With the destruction of the Martian tower at Woking, Grandfather’s theories were proven correct, as within the week, all the Martians began to sicken and die. Yet Grandfather sought no reward for his contribution. He was at heart, perhaps a little overwhelmed by what he had done.

Our scientific knowledge increased one hundredfold since the War, partially due to the examination of what the Martians left us, and humanity’s own response. Our increasing mastery of aviation is one such example, along with our early efforts at space travel.

After the war, Mr. Churchill proposed that we arm our new aerocraft with my grandfather’s bomb. This Vengeance or “V” force would be able to strike the Martians wherever they land should they return. Grandfather made it clear he would make no more bombs and the idea died.

The Martians never returned. We know of the Martians’ failed landing on Venus after their failure on Earth. Attempts to contact Mars by wireless were greeted by a great silence. Dr. Goddard and Dr. Tsiolkovsky have suggested we send a robotic messenger rocket to establish contact.

Roger was never terribly fond of the popular history of the War, as related by Mr. H.G. Wells. He complained to Wells at length how he had either left so many details out or reported them incorrectly. Wells told him his story was a work of fictionalized history and poetic license.

Perhaps what disturbed Roger the most, was that while Wells told him he had the right to tell his own story, people would find it too hard to believe. “People believe the Martians because they’ve lived it. But a tower that protects from being ill? And Maxim’s bomb? Unbelievable.”

For their actions at Woking, both Grandfather and Roger were knighted by Her Majesty at the National Service of Thanksgiving, that Christmas Eve on the steps of the fire-blackened St. Paul’s Cathedral. Sergeant Howard received a Victoria Cross for his role in the action.

Of course, I – and all women of the Empire – received a great gift of our own in 1902: the electoral franchise.

Lt. James Robert Dullanty, for displaying great coolness and gallantry during the attack on Primrose Hill, was awarded a VC by the Queen, at a ceremony at Balmoral attended by his father and siblings. The Queen, herself, presented the VC to Sir John Dullanty, a rare honour not normally seen.

What happened to Morant and Vogan after the last entry in the Morant’s diary, or how Marie ended up with it is unclear. It is known that some people were rescued from the Primrose Hill encampment. They remember rockets being set off. But, there is no mention of Vogan of Morant being involved. It is possible they were killed setting off rockets.

However, it is possible that being were on a list of deserters, they took the opportunity to disappear. Especially as Field Marshal Wolseley had personally ordered Morant’s summary execution when he discovered he was impersonating an officer.

In contrast, I could find detailed records of what happened to others in this story. George Brown was also on the deserters’ list. Happily for him, a petition from the people of Edinburgh and the many people he had helped evacuate from London convinced Queen Victoria to pardon him. There is a statue of him overlooking the harbour. He married into the wealthy Leslie clan.

Morant’s mother settled in Manchester with her two proteges. Fortune smiled on these two women as they were reunited with their long-estranged husbands. Unfortunately, it is unknown when they were married, as many such records were destroyed in the Martian War. Still, the two couples re-established the Manchester Guardian and lived on a property used as a horse stud. In a fantastic coincidence, the husbands’ names were Harry and Arthur.