John Tyler - The Accidental President

John Tyler assumed office after William Henry Harrison died. But how would the American Republic react? Would there be anarchy? Or would the system remain strong? William Bodkin explains the story of how John Tyler took office in 1841…

A portrait of John Tyler.

The president was dead.

For the first time in American history, but sadly not the last, a president had died in office.  One short month after his inauguration, on April 4, 1841, William Henry Harrison was no more.  Not a soul in the United States of America was quite sure what it meant.

The Constitution, on its face, seemed clear.  Article 2, Section 1 stated that in the event of the president’s “death, resignation or inability to discharge the powers and duties of the said office, the same shall devolve on the Vice-President.”  But what did that mean?  The “same shall devolve”?  Was it merely the powers of the presidency?  Was the vice-president merely “acting” as the president for the remainder of the dead president’s term?  Or was it something else?   Did the vice-president inherit the office, as generations of princes, and too few princesses, had when kings breathed their last?

The future of the Presidency was in the hands of one man, vice-president John Tyler.  But his decision would have to wait.  Tyler was not in the nation’s capital, but home in Williamsburg, Virginia.  Tyler had left Washington, D.C. soon after his inauguration.  In those days, the vice-president’s sole responsibility was to preside over the Senate.  That august chamber was in recess until June.  Tyler had known about Harrison’s illness, but elected to stay in Williamsburg lest he be seen as a vulture perched over Harrison’s bedside, waiting for his demise.

Two messengers were sent on horseback from Washington, D.C. to Williamsburg to inform the vice-president.  One was Fletcher Webster, son of Harrison’s Secretary of State, Daniel Webster. The other was Robert Beale, doorkeeper of the U.S. Senate.  The men galloped through night and day to summon the future of the Republic.  It was dark when the men arrived on the morning of April 5, 1841.  The young Webster pounded on the door, but received no response.  The Tyler family was asleep.  Beale, used to rousting intoxicated Senators, gave a try, pounding more vigorously then his friend.  Finally, John Tyler opened the door.  Recognizing the men, he invited them in.  Webster handed over the letter the cabinet had prepared:

“Washington, April 4, 1841

Sir:

It becomes our painful duty to inform you that William Henry Harrison, late President of the United States, has departed this life.  This distressing event took place this day, at the President’s mansion in this city, at thirty minutes before one in the morning.

We lose no time in dispatching the chief clerk of the State Department as a special messenger to bear you these melancholy tidings.

                  We have the honor to be with highest regard,

Your obedient servants.”

Well-qualified?

Tyler accepted the news solemnly.  Letter in hand, he woke his family to tell them.  He dressed, had breakfast, and by 7AM departed with his son, John Jr., who often acted as his personal secretary.  The two took every means of transportation available in 1841: horse, steamboat, and train.  Tyler and his son arrived in Washington, D.C. just before dawn on April 6.

Oddly enough, John Tyler was quite possibly one of the more qualified men to assume the presidency.   No previous vice-president had his resume of political accomplishment: state legislator, governor of Virginia, United States Congressman, U.S. Senator, and vice-president.  Tyler’s father had been also been Governor of Virginia, and had been friends with Thomas Jefferson.  One of the pivotal moments of young John Tyler’s life was when the great Jefferson visited Tyler’s father in the Governor’s mansion for dinner.  Tyler saw himself as not just the successor of William Henry Harrison, but the heir of the legendary Virginia dynasty: Washington, Jefferson, Madison and Monroe.  There was, however, one small problem.  Tyler, true to his origins in the Virginia aristocracy, wasn’t quite a Whig, like Harrison.  But he wasn’t quite a Democrat either, as he had been a fierce opponent of Andrew Jackson.  He was, quite simply, a Virginian.

The former presidents were not about to let Tyler, or the nation, forget it.  Andrew Jackson derided Tyler as the “imbecile in the Executive Chair.”  John Quincy Adams, finding in rare agreement with his old nemesis, blasted the new president as “a political sectarian of the slave driving, Virginian, Jeffersonian school, with all the interests and passions and vices of slavery rooted in his moral and political constitution.”  Adams lamented that Harrison’s death had brought “a man never thought for it by anybody” to the presidency.  Many feared that Tyler would simply be steamrolled by Congress, led by perpetual presidential striver Henry Clay of Kentucky, then a U.S. Senator.  They believed that Tyler lacked the strength of character to deal with the nation’s roiled factions.

They were wrong.  When Tyler arrived in Washington, he seized command.  Tyler tolerated no debate over whether he was the acting president.  He was president in word and deed.  Tyler immediately convened Harrison’s cabinet, declaring that he was not the vice-president acting as president.  He was the President of the United States, possessing the office and all its attendant powers.  Secretary of State Webster, himself one of the other great presidential strivers of pre-Civil War America, told Tyler that President Harrison and the cabinet had cast equal votes in reaching decisions and that the majority had ruled.  Webster did not, of course, explain what decisions had been made by Harrison in the month of his presidency that he had spent on his deathbed.  Tyler firmly rejected the “democratic” cabinet.  He advised the Cabinet that he was very glad to have them. They were a true assemblage of able statesman.  But he would never consent to being dictated to.  He was the President of the United States, and he would be responsible for his administration.  Tyler told the Cabinet he wished them to stay in their posts, but if they would not accept what he said, he would gladly accept their resignations.  No one resigned.

More powerful than any person

Webster suggested that Tyler take the Oath of Office as President to quell any uncertainties.  Tyler asserted that it was unnecessary. He believed that the oath he had sworn as Vice-President was sufficient.  However, he saw the wisdom in putting the nation’s doubts to rest.  William Branch, Chief Justice of the United States Circuit Court of the District of Columbia, was summoned.  Tyler took care to advise Judge Branch that he was qualified to assume the presidency with no further oath, but asked that the judge administer it to him again, “as doubts may arise and for the greater caution.”  The Presidential Oath was administered. 

One of the more enduring attributes of the American Republic is the idea that no one is indispensible to its functioning.  Presidents, Generals, Senators, and Governors come and go. The Republic marches on.  George Washington set the tone by leaving the presidency after two terms in office.  And thanks to John Tyler, the nation knew that if a president should leave office before his term expired, the Republic’s leadership could change hands between elections, even arguably moving from one political party to another, without unrest in the streets, or shots being fired.  It would happen simply by operation of the Constitution and the laws of the land.

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William's previous pieces have been on George Washington (link here), John Adams (link here), Thomas Jefferson (link here), James Madison (link here), James Monroe (link here), John Quincy Adams (link here), Andrew Jackson (link here), Martin Van Buren (link here), and William Henry Harrison (link here).

Sources

Gary May.  John Tyler: The American Presidents Series: the 10th President: 1841-1845 (Times Books, 2008).

Witcover, Jules.  Party of the People: A History of the Democrats (Random House 2003).

Schlesinger, Arthur M., ed. Running for President, the Candidates and Their Images: 1789-1896.

Miller Center of the University of Virginia: U.S. Presidents series: John Tyler (http://millercenter.org/president/tyler).

The History of Interior Design - in the White House!

We were recently sent a fascinating infographic on the history of interior design in the White House. Naturally we felt that we had to share it with you! We hope you enjoy this very different type of article…

The infographic shows the tremendous changes the White House has undergone through the decades, embracing new interior design styles while letting presidents sit next to antique furniture.

It is common practice that presidents are allocated a renovation budget to enable them to add his mark, so to speak, to their temporary home. Many choose a new design for the rug in this famous room during their time in the Oval Office. The rug itself is one subtle method of letting the world have a visual representation behind the ideologies, reflecting the era and personality of each president while they are in office.

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Irish hero Michael Collins: Merely an ambitious man?

S M Sigerson, author of "The Assassination of Michael Collins: What Happened at Béal na mBláth?" continues to re-examine a number of myths which have distorted the facts about Collins.  Some have argued that he was merely one of several ambitious men, vying for power at the time.  But does that adequately explain his role in Irish history, his legendary stature, or his undying fascination?

The previous articles in this series are here on four myths related to Collins’ death and here on another myth.

Michael Collins giving a speech. Source: Cork Film Archive, site here.

One argument that has been put forward to explain away the phenomenon of Michael Collins is the contention that he was merely one of several ambitious men of the time.  Some suggest that he was distinguished only by his failure to survive, by being less successful than others. 

History always involves debate.  In Collins' case, the controversy which ended his life is not altogether a thing of the past, but rages on in Ireland today.  Therefore writers on this topic are particularly liable to favour either himself or his political opponents.

This and other trivializations of Collins is often found in the mouths of DeValera eulogists.  If translated from subliminal nuance into the plainest language possible, perhaps it might read something like: "Collins' death didn't matter. Nothing would have been better had he lived.  Collins just wasn't as successful as others. Collins was a loser."

Is there a political agenda detectable, in thus waving aside the achievements of the only leader to see the British Army off Irish soil, in seven centuries of trying?

If Mr. DeValera can by reason and argument induce the people of Ireland to entrust the Nation's fortunes to him and his party ... in that event the duty of the Army, no matter what were their individual views, would be to support Mr DeValera's government, and I would exhort the people to support that government, as a government, even if I were in political opposition...

Progressive campaigning often turns on convincing people that (1) change is possible and (2) the candidate / party is different from the establishment, and will make change happen.  For the same reason, these two principles are often targeted by entrenched political establishments. It becomes, in a sense, their job (if they want to keep their jobs) to convince the public that change is not going to happen. It is in their interests to encourage a general disbelief that any politician is going to be different. A general hopelessness that anything can change is advantageous to the status quo. Such inertia keeps people away from the polls: they don't bother to vote. This is good for entrenched establishments. The fewer people that vote, the more likely that the usual suspects will keep their seats. Large voter turn-outs are often good news for progressives and bad news for conservatives. When the public perceives a chance for positive improvements, when a candidate stands out as offering something genuinely valuable and innovative, when the public imagination is fired: then they stand up to be counted. It is therefore definitely in the interests of some political elements to discourage this sort of thing.

Assassination

Government by assassination is the most extreme form of that strategy. It is one very destructive and dangerous way to make sure that there will be only one kind of candidate.

Obviously, if this were a mere question of struggle between two equally selfish and unethical men, it is not Michael Collins who would have been assassinated. If he could wipe out virtually the entire British secret service in Dublin in one day, there was no one in Ireland likely to outdo him in that department.

... while it was perfectly justifiable for any body of Irishmen, no matter how small, to rise up and make a stand against their country's enemy, it is not justifiable for a minority to oppose the wishes of the majority of their own countrymen, except by constitutional means. 

Collins never said it was “necessary to shoot men like" Liam Lynch or Rory O'Connor.  Nor did he ever call on the public to wade through the blood of anti-Treaty leaders. He never advocated firing on comrades as a solution to the Dáil / Army split. On the contrary, he resisted doing so longer than anyone else in a comparably responsible position (although no one's position at the time can really be compared with his).

The solution he consistently sought was a just and amicable reunification of all factions. The analysis he repeatedly emphasized was the danger of dividing the country's strength, in the presence of their traditional foe at this volatile juncture. History has justified him. 

Collins clearly declared that, while he had no problem with assassination as a weapon of war against a violent foreign occupation force, he did not believe in it as a form of government. That, apparently, is how he differed from his opponents. Tragically for us, he paid the supreme price for that difference.

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Portions of this article are excerpted from "The Assassination of Michael Collins: What Happened At Béal na mBláth?" by S M Sigerson. Available online at www.amazon.com/dp/1493784714 or www.smashwords.com/books/view/433954. Alternatively, ask at your local bookstore.

What if Napoleon Bonaparte had won the Battle of Waterloo?

Napoleon Bonaparte was famously defeated at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 by British and Prussian forces. But what if that never happened? How would European history have changed if Napoleon had won? Here, Nick Tingley explores why history may have ended up repeating itself…

A picture of Napoleon Bonaparte.

The battle between France and Prussia in 1870 was all but decided at the Battle of Sedan on September 1. As Napoleon III was led through the French countryside for the nearest port, he knew that this battle would spell the end of the Empire. As he was sailed across to England for exile, a unified Germany was created off the back of French territory - and the landscape of Europe would be forever changed.

Had he been more like his uncle, Napoleon Bonaparte, the fall of Napoleon III’s government might never have happened. Bonaparte had known when to give up. Even as the British troops of Wellington and Blucher’s Prussians fled from the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, Bonaparte had known that he had to pursue peace in order to survive. Bonaparte had even offered clemency to the British troops by aiding their evacuation from France after the battle, essentially bringing about a new era of peace in Europe championed by the two enemy nations. Bonaparte had developed so much since 1813 when he had refused a favorable settlement in defeat that he was able to bring about the longest lasting peace that Europe had seen in centuries…

But Napoleon III had not learnt from his uncle’s mistakes and the horrendous defeat at the Battle of Sedan would haunt him until his death in 1873…

When ‘What If’ Collides with History

Ironically, for a ‘What If?’ scenario, this version of history is not remarkably unlike our own. Whilst Napoleon Bonaparte did not win the Battle of Waterloo on June 18, 1815, his nephew did eventually become Emperor of France as a result of the 1848 revolutions that sprung up around Europe. His last act as Emperor was to lead French forces against Prussia in the War of 1870. He was captured at the Battle of Sedan and forced into exile in Britain, where he was forever haunted by the destruction of his Empire. His actions that year effectively allowed the creation of Germany that was, in no small part, responsible for much of the tension between the two countries over the next seventy-five years.

And yet, this event in history may well have occurred regardless of whether Bonaparte had won the Battle of Waterloo. If we suppose, for a moment, that Napoleon had managed to defeat the British and Prussian forces at the battle and maintain control of France thereafter, it is not beyond reason to suppose that, as Bonaparte’s nephew and heir, Napoleon III would have inherited the Empire anyway. Had that happened, the Battle of Sedan would almost certainly have occurred in the same way, leading to his downfall and the beginning of the tensions that would contribute to the outbreak of the First World War.

But what scenario would allow such a divergence from historical fact and yet still arrive at the same point fifty-five years later? Rather than looking to Napoleon III, our attention must be drawn to Bonaparte, the man whose decisions would ultimately determine the future of France and the rest of Europe.

Bonaparte the Warrior

At first we must address Bonaparte’s character. The Bonaparte of 1796, the year that he began his conquest of Europe, was a war leader to the greatest degree. Had he managed to defeat Wellington and Blucher at Waterloo, he would almost certainly have urged his officers to press after Wellington and Blucher’s scattered armies until every last one of them had been captured or killed. He would have then have turned his attention to the armies of Russia and Austria who, whilst not involved in Waterloo, were slowly advancing across Europe to address this resurgence of power.

This would have presented Bonaparte with a serious problem. In the first instance, Austria and Russia had armies of approximately 200,000 men working their way across Europe. In the second, Alexander I, the Tsar of Russia, was particularly keen to eliminate Bonaparte, as he believed that Europe would never remain at peace with him alive. Finally, French conscription, from which Bonaparte had been gathering troops during his previous campaigns, was not currently a policy in France. This meant that he didn’t have access to the same amount of reserves that he had previously.

In this scenario, Bonaparte would probably not have enjoyed any significant success for more than a week or two. With the arrival of the Austrians and Russians, Bonaparte’s armies would have stood little chance at all, and history would have certainly continued down the path that we are most familiar with.

Bonaparte the Stubborn

The Bonaparte of 1813 may have lasted even less time. In 1813, Bonaparte had refused any kind of settlement at all, even though he had been completely defeated at the Battle of Leipzig that year. In that battle, Bonaparte’s armies were effectively expelled from the rest of Europe and forced to retreat back in to France. Had Bonaparte sued for a peace at that time, he might well have retained his title and control over France. The result of his failure to do so was the invasion of France by the Coalition of Russia, Austria and Prussia and his own removal from the throne.

Had he treated his victory at Waterloo with the same refusal to negotiate, Bonaparte would have probably attempted to retake parts of Central Europe immediately following the Battle of Waterloo. Once again, Bonaparte’s failing would have been signaled by the arrival of Russian and Austrian troops which would have led to yet another disastrous retreat back in to France, if not the destruction of his entire army.

Bonaparte the Diplomat

There is, however, one scenario by which Bonaparte may have been able to win at Waterloo and still maintain control of France. If Bonaparte had granted clemency to the retreating British forces of Wellington, history could have taken a completely different turn. The British forces had granted something similar seven years previously at Sintra, where French forces had been allowed to evacuate from Portugal after several disastrous battles. Such an act of honor, whilst completely removed from Bonaparte’s character, may well have been enough to convince the British that there might be a peaceful solution to the French problem.

In the event that Bonaparte had sued for some sort of peace, before the arrival of the Russian and Austrian armies, they may well have found a new ally in the form of Britain. With the two former enemies working together to bring about a new era of peace, it is not beyond reason to suggest that the rest of Europe might have been tempted to follow suit. The Congress system that was prevalent in Europe for the years following Bonaparte’s downfall may well have still existed but with a stronger leader speaking on behalf of France.

However, all of this would rely heavily on Bonaparte being able to disregard all the previous behaviors that had come to define his reign. In order for this scenario to work, Bonaparte would have had to cease behaving like some sort of power-hungry megalomaniac and become a reasonable diplomatic presence in Europe. One can even imagine that, had Bonaparte become the diplomat that Europe needed him to be, the rise of Germany might have been significantly delayed.

The revolutions of 1848 might have been a significantly smaller affair as there would have been no antagonism towards a French monarchy, which would have disbanded with Bonaparte’s renewed rise to power, and therefore no revolution in France. The French revolution, which was one of the larger and more explosive of the 1848 revolutions, would not have existed to encourage the others across Europe. Without the discontent across Europe, we can easily see a scenario in which a united Germany never comes in to being, effectively removing the threat of World War One in 1914 and, therefore, the subsequent World War twenty-five years later.

The Likely Scenario

Unfortunately, Bonaparte’s actions were, by and large, a result of his psychological compulsions and the environment in which he came to power. He was very much a child of the French Revolution; his rise to power had been as a result of one of the bloodiest events in French history. The idea that a man, who owed so much of his power to man’s compulsion towards war, would be content at sitting around a conference table with the other leaders of Europe is improbable at best.

Had he been given the opportunity to make this decision, it is unlikely that he would have taken it, opting instead for the allure of battle. In the event that he had sued for peace, it would almost have certainly been a blind to allow himself time to build up his armies before making another attempt at conquering the continent. In all likelihood, rather than delaying the onset of a World War in Europe, he would almost have certainly caused one in his own right.

However, Bonaparte would not have had long to enact his plans. Barely six years after his victory at Waterloo, he would have succumbed to the pain of stomach cancer and his throne would have been left to his then thirteen-year old heir and nephew, Napoleon III. What chaos would have gripped France as a result of his death is almost unfathomable and not within the remit of this discussion. However, two scenarios present themselves. Either, under the influence of the rest of Europe, France would have returned to a monarchy-led government and once again would have continued down the course that we already know from history, or else the young Napoleon III would have taken to the throne, probably starting a civil war in the process. If Napoleon III were to survive such a period of unrest in France, he could have reigned for nearly fifty years, never having the opportunity to learn from his uncle that the best direction for Europe was towards peace…

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You can also read Nick’s previous articles on what if D-Day did not happen in 1944 here, what if Hitler had been assassinated in July 1944 here, and what if the Nazis had not invaded Crete in World War Two here.

Sources

• Blucher: Scourge of Napoleon - Michael V. Leggiere (2014)
• If Napoleon had won the Batter of Waterloo - G. Macaulay Trevelyan (1907)
• Napoleon: The Last Phase - Lord Rosebery (1900)
• Napoleon Wins at Waterloo - Caleb Carr (1999)
• The Face of Battle: A Study of Agincourt, Waterloo and the Somme - John Keegan (2004)
• Trafalgar and Waterloo: The Two Most Important Battles of the Napoleonic Wars - Charles River Editors (2014)

The Roots of the American Red Cross

Clara Barton was a pioneer of the nineteenth century. But who was this amazing lady? Well, she played a key role to wounded soldiers in the US Civil War and was instrumental in the formation of the American Red Cross. C.A. Newberry explains.

Clara Barton, circa 1897. By Charles E. Smith.

Where would we be without the Red Cross today? Since the International establishment of the organization in 1864 it has been a consistent lifeline for people in need. Vital in aiding during disaster relief efforts, supporting military families, and providing essential health and safety training. Yet, how did this incredible organization begin?

Born on Christmas Day in the year 1821 in the town of Oxford, Massachusetts, Clara Harlowe Barton was the youngest of five children. As a young girl Clara was painfully shy. Nonetheless, her passion to serve others and help people started at an early age. When her brother David suffered an accident, she stayed home from school to tend to his needs, administering medications and even learning the art of “leeching” after the family doctor suggested it may help.

During her teenage years she was encouraged to pursue a career in teaching, potentially helping her to overcome her shyness. Years later she opened a free public school in New Jersey where anyone rich or poor could attend. During the mid 1850s, after a successful career, Clara made the move to Washington, D.C. It was here that she worked in the US Patent Office, granting permits for inventions.

Civil War

However, it was the US Civil War that proved to be a defining period of Clara’s life.  When war broke out in 1861, Clara, sensing an immediate need, swiftly volunteered. She tended to wounded soldiers and then began to bring supplies to the troops and the medical teams who were exhausted and over-worked.  At one point supplies were so scarce that they were trying to make bandages out of corn husks.

Clara did her best to organize supplies but also to gather volunteers. She led the training to prepare them so they could perform first-aid, carry water, and prepare food for the wounded. Barton continued with her quest to deliver supplies, utilizing some help funded through the army quartermaster in Washington, D.C., but many were purchased with donations that Clara was able to secure. However, if those choices were unavailable she would use her own funds, most of which were later refunded to her through Congress. Through all of this tireless and selfless volunteering, she earned the nickname, “The Angel of the Battlefield”.

After years of serving through the war, she followed up by embarking on a brutal travel schedule where she spoke to countless groups recalling her time in the field. Soon Clara became ill and was encouraged by her doctors to travel to Europe. The hope was that she would have a certain amount of anonymity while there, allowing her to rest and recuperate.

Meanwhile, in Europe, Henry Dunant, founder and creator of the global Red Cross network, had the idea that there should be international agreements to protect the sick and wounded during wartime. There should also be the formation of national societies to give aid voluntarily, but on a neutral basis. The first treaty to encompass Dunant’s ideas was negotiated in Geneva during 1864. It was then ratified by twelve different European nations. This treaty is known by several titles, including the Geneva Treaty, the Red Cross Treaty, and the Geneva Convention.

During her lecture tour and the vivid recreations of her war experiences, Barton had become incredibly well known, and was brought to the attention of Dunant. And during 1869, while in Geneva, Clara met both Dunant and another supporter Dr. Louis Appia. Being familiar with Clara’s work in the states they wanted to share the vision of the International Red Cross, hoping to gain Clara’s support and further encouraging her to get the United States on board.

Bring the Red Cross to the US

During Clara’s stay in Europe the Franco-Prussian War started.  She was asked to serve with the International Red Cross providing assistance and, after seeing the benefits, Clara was determined to return to the United States and establish the Red Cross at home. When Clara first approached President Rutherford B. Hayes in 1877 she was met with resistance, as he feared a possible “entangling alliance” with the other European nations. However, his successor, President James Garfield, saw the value in the program and was supportive. Sadly, before it could become official, President Garfield was assassinated.

Frustrated, Clara, with the help of friends and neighbors in New York, funded and established the first local society of the American Red Cross in 1881.  Just a short month later they had their first call to action. Responding to a disastrous forest fire in Michigan, they collected $300 for the victims.

Clara continued to seek government support and, after years of passionate pleas, the Geneva Treaty (the International Red Cross) was signed in the US in 1882. Within a few days the Senate was able to ratify it. Not surprisingly, Clara Barton was named president.

While the mission of the International and now American Red Cross were important, Clara truly believed that the assistance needed to be expanded beyond wartime needs.  She was also passionate about helping with disaster relief, peacetime emergencies and directing charitable support. So during its first twenty years the American Red Cross was largely devoted to disaster relief. Even though Henry Dunant had originally suggested that the Red Cross provide disaster relief, it hadn’t been widely embraced until Clara Barton advocated it. In fact, during the Third International Red Cross conference in 1884, the American Red Cross suggested an amendment to the original Geneva Treaty, asking for an expansion to include relief for victims of natural disasters. The resolution was passed and became known as the “American Amendment” to the Geneva Treaty of 1864.

Clara Barton served as president until 1904. After her retirement she continued with her philanthropy until she passed away in 1912, at the age of 91. She will be forever remembered as a pioneer, passionate about the Red Cross and one of the most celebrated figures of her time.

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References

• History’s Favorite Nurses, Maryville University, February 9 2015
• Founder, Clara Barton, The Red Cross, February 9 2015
• Clara Barton, The Civil War Trust, February 9 2015

Biography as not quite Destiny - The William Henry Harrison Story

William Henry Harrison has the shortest presidency on record.  The oldest elected president at the time, he died after one month in office.  But was he an unlikely president or destined for the greatest office? Here, William Bodkin explains the story of this fascinating president…

A William Henry Harrison campaign poster.

Part Andrew Jackson and part Martin Van Buren, William Henry Harrison was a successful general who had lusted after higher office for decades, only to have death take him from his greatest achievement.  For the United States, it may have been fortunate.  Harrison’s pre-presidential career showed that while he may have had Jackson’s military talent, he lacked Van Buren’s political talent. Harrison fell upward into the presidency, almost by accident.

Harrison was the first “Dark Horse” candidate for president.  His 1836 candidacy seemed to come from nowhere.  In fact, the opposite is true.  Harrison’s father, Benjamin, signed the Declaration of Independence and served three terms as Governor of Virginia.  The Harrisons were close to the Washingtons.  For his career in the army, Harrison used his Washington connection to secure an officer’s commission.  Harrison was sent to Fort Washington in the Northwest Territory and showed real ability as a fighter against Native Americans.  He was given command of the Fort and steadily promoted by a succession of presidents: Adams, Jefferson and Madison.  As his administrative duties increased, Harrison continued leading men into battle, mostly against the Indian leader Tecumseh.  Tecumseh sought to rally the Middle West’s native tribes into a force that would resist Americans.  One such battle, in November 1811 at the confluence of the Tippecanoe and Wabash rivers in Indiana, was against Tecumseh’s brother.  When Harrison’s forces won, Harrison proclaimed “The Battle of Tippecanoe” a great victory.  It was, at first, little noted. But by December 1811, newspapers were reporting the story along with accusations by Andrew Jackson that the British were stirring up the tribes to rebel against the America.  As the controversy raged, Tippecanoe became the powder keg that eventually ignited the War of 1812.

Harrison and the War of 1812

The War of 1812 gave Harrison his greatest pre-presidential fame. Harrison led the army that recaptured Detroit and then hotly pursued the Native Americans, led by Tecumseh, and the British into Canada.  In the Battle of Thames River, Harrison’s forces, aided by a corps of Kentucky marksman, bested the tribes and killed Tecumseh.  Harrison then retired from the army and went on a victory tour to New York City, Philadelphia, and Washington, D.C., soaking in the adulation of the crowds as the great general who killed Tecumseh. 

Upon his return to Ohio, Harrison became a professional office-seeker.  He ran and won election to Congress, serving from 1817-1819.  As Congressman, he spent much of his time seeking more prestigious posts, trying and failing to become James Monroe’s Secretary of War and Ambassador to Russia.  After this term in Congress ended, he was elected to Ohio’s State Senate.  Harrison then tried and failed to become Governor of Ohio, and twice to become a Senator.  Finally, in 1824, he won election to the U.S. Senate from Ohio.  On his return to D.C., Harrison began lobbying immediately for a better position.  With the help of Henry Clay, Harrison was named John Quincy Adams’ Ambassador to Colombia, despite Adams’ discomfort with what he described as Harrison’s “rabid thirst for lucrative office.” But ambassador was no role for Harrison.  He embroiled himself in controversy by choosing sides in Colombia’s internal politics against the ruling government.  When Andrew Jackson won the presidency, Harrison was recalled.  He went back to Ohio, where he took a job as recorder of deeds in his home county just to make ends meet.

While Harrison was in Colombia, another man took on the role of the great slayer of Tecumseh.  Richard Mentor Johnson was a Congressman from Kentucky and a former member of the team of Kentucky marksman who had fought alongside Harrison’s men.  Johnson won election to Congress and became famous throughout the West by claiming that he had fired the bullet that killed Tecumseh.  Johnson’s supporters decided that if Andrew Jackson could catapult himself to the presidency on the strength of War of 1812 success, perhaps Johnson could too. 

The surprise president?

By 1834, a movement coalesced around Johnson, with engravings, pamphlets, songs, and a five-act play based on the Battle of the Thames.  Reenactments of the battle were staged around the country, with Johnson’s legend growing from expert marksman to mastermind of victory, usurping the role of one William Henry Harrison.  Harrison was invited to one of these celebrations and was so offended by the antics that he issued a firm public rebuke of Johnson.  The statement reminded many of the old General.  Many of his fellow Ohioans decided to push Harrison for the presidency in 1836.  One newspaper editor declared that the fact that Harrison’s name ended in “-on” was of great importance.  The nation had had Washington, Jefferson, Madison, and Jackson, why not Harrison?  It was just the right name.  No one was perhaps more surprised than Harrison himself, who had planned to retire.  But the Harrison boom was off and running.  Engravings of the battle of Tippecanoe were struck, reenactments were staged, and a big commemorative celebration was held on the battle site.  Harrison, hero of Tippecanoe and the general who beat Tecumseh became a candidate for president.

Martin Van Buren, never one to miss a political movement and running for the presidency himself, made Richard Mentor Johnson his vice-president.  Ultimately, in 1836, the Anti-Jackson, or, in this case, the anti-Van Buren votes were split among too many regional Whig party candidates.  Van Buren eked out the presidency, only to face a tumultuous four years and William Henry Harrison again in 1840.

Ignoring Harrison’s aristocratic Virginia roots, the Whigs adopted as their symbol a log cabin.  Harrison had briefly lived in one in Ohio, but quickly remodeled it into a more stately home.  The image had started as a joke.  One newspaper printed that Harrison would drop out of the presidential contest for a modest pension and a barrel of hard cider, so he could spend his days at home in his log cabin.  The Whigs by this point had learned a thing or two from observing Van Buren, and leveraged Harrison’s war hero status and this remark to give Harrison a rough hewn image, making him the Whig’s answer to Andrew Jackson.  The “Log Cabin and Hard Cider” campaign worked, helped by a weariness of the Democratic Party.  Harrison swept to the presidency.  For his inauguration, perhaps believing his own hype, Harrison marched in his inaugural parade on a wet, freezing day with neither hat, nor coat, nor gloves.  He also delivered what stands to this day as the longest inaugural address in presidential history at 8,445 words.  

A month later, Harrison was dead.

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William's previous pieces have been on George Washington (link here), John Adams (link here), Thomas Jefferson (link here), James Madison (link here), James Monroe (link here), John Quincy Adams (link here), Andrew Jackson (link here), and Martin Van Buren (link here).

References

Feller, Daniel.  “1836” Running for President, the Candidates and their images.  Arthur M. Schlesinger, Editor.  Simon and Schuster, 1994.

Wilentz, Sean. “1840”  ” Running for President, the Candidates and their images.  Arthur M. Schlesinger, Editor.  Simon and Schuster, 1994.

“William Henry Harrison” Miller Center of the University of Virginia (http://millercenter.org/president/harrison).

Let Them See What They’ve Done – The Kennedys and the Swearing-in of Lyndon B. Johnson

The assassination of John F. Kennedy inevitably came as a huge shock, but this shock was compounded for those people who had to lead the US afterwards. In this article, Christopher Benedict explains what happened in the aftermath of Kennedy’s assassination, and the problems and politics between Bobby Kennedy, Jackie Kennedy, and Lyndon B. Johnson as they sought to move forward.

The swearing in of Lyndon B. Johnson in November 1963.

A Heartbeat Away

You would be hard-pressed to find, among the men who peevishly held the office, a favorable opinion uttered of the vice presidency.

John Adams complained to his wife Abigail of the frustrating ineffectiveness affixed to “the most insignificant office that ever the invention of man contrived or his imagination conceived.”

The vice presidency “ought to be abolished” in the mind of Theodore Roosevelt, who offered his grumpy yet prescient perspective that “the man who occupies it may at any moment be everything, but meanwhile he is practically nothing.”

Franklin Roosevelt’s first VP John Nance Garner proclaimed the position “not worth a bucket of warm piss”, while Harry Truman, FDRs third and final second-in-command, joked that vice presidents “were about as useful as a cow’s fifth teat.”

Lyndon Johnson was certainly no stranger to the discontent of thwarted ambition and irksome exclusion. Consistently and deliberately closed out of the president’s inner circle, it was not exactly a well-kept secret that LBJ reserved the greatest measure of his odious disdain for Kennedy’s Attorney General, brother, and ruthless right-hand man Bobby, who Johnson thought “acted like he was the custodian of the Kennedy dream, some kind of rightful heir to the throne.” Jack, meanwhile, would send Johnson off on as many insignificant overseas diplomatic missions as he could concoct with the express purpose of sparing himself the despondent look pulling down Lyndon’s already droopy features as he moped in a perpetual state of self-pity around the White House.

Power Struggle

Lyndon Johnson was literally and figuratively kept in the dark at Parkland Hospital. Seated with Lady Bird in a small, dimly lit waiting room as physicians down the hall attempted frantically to achieve what everyone knew to be the impossible and save John Fitzgerald Kennedy’s life, he was simultaneously processing the pandemonium of Dealey Plaza while looking as far as he dared into the immediate future and the very real probability of his impending ascendance to the presidency. But, amidst the confusion of emergency responders who did not have the time to give him - and some of Kennedy’s other men – an update, Johnson yet again found himself odd man out.

“The disaster had exposed a hidden weakness, the allegiance of individual agents to a man,” William Manchester penned in his masterful The Death of a President. “As long as Kennedy had been in command the lines of authority were clear. Now the old order had been transformed into hopeless disorder.”

Streaked in gore, Jackie refused to be parted from her husband’s side, insisting “I want to be in there when he dies” and that a priest (Father Oscar Huber) be summoned to administer last rites to Jack before the official pronouncement of death could be made for the sake of his immortal soul.

Johnson, meanwhile, awaited word of the inevitable which he would obstinately accept only from the president’s personal friend and political aide Ken O’Donnell who, with Dave Powers, Larry O’Brien and others, comprised JFKs doggedly loyal ‘Irish Mafia’. Whatever the gruesome reality, Lyndon Johnson would never be their president. Johnson, not for the last time that day, would be left wanting. Secret Service agent Emory Roberts was the first to alert Johnson to the president’s mortal demise, but Assistant Press Secretary ‘Mac’ Kilduff would have to do in satisfying Lyndon’s desire for a spokesman from the Kennedy contingency, the first to address Johnson as “Mr. President”.

Only then was LBJ spirited away, the enormity of the situation pressing down upon Lady Bird in her later recollection of flags already flying at half-mast on buildings between Parkland Hospital and Love Field. Kennedy’s body would make the same journey only after a tense standoff between Parkland’s medical staff backed up by local law enforcement and the Secret Service, Irish Mafia, and Jackie Kennedy who collectively used the president’s coffin on a gurney as a battering ram to force their way out. Kilduff finally addressed the press to formally announce to the nation, “President John F. Kennedy died at approximately one o’clock central standard time today here in Dallas. He died of a gunshot wound in the brain.”

Bobby’s Wounds Ripped Wide

The trauma of Robert Kennedy having to learn of his brother’s assassination was compounded immeasurably by the callous insensitivity with which, and from whom, the news was delivered. Bobby would suffer two indignities dealt out in quick succession by the men he hated most. The feelings of loathing, it goes without saying, were reciprocal.

FBI director J. Edgar Hoover phoned Bobby’s Hickory Hill home in McLean, Virginia and, with no pretense at sympathy or human decency, informed Kennedy, “I have news for you. The president’s been shot. I think it’s serious. I am endeavoring to get details. I will call you back when I find out more.”

Bobby’s sudden and abominable grief would be rudely interrupted one hour later.

Lyndon Johnson “had been lobbying his bereaved cabin mates one by one,” writes Jeff Shesol in his book Mutual Contempt, “forcing a consensus that the plane should not leave the ground before the transition of power was properly-constitutionally-confirmed.” Whatever his aims were in assuring that presidential continuity be achieved swiftly and legitimately, Johnson’s decision to seek the guidance of the nation’s Attorney General, who at this moment in time was above all a freshly grieving brother, was consistent with behavior that Godfrey McHugh (Air Force Aide to President Kennedy, who had once dated Jackie Bouvier) found “obscene”.

“A lot of people think I should be sworn in right away,” Johnson urged when he got through to Bobby.

“Do you have any objection to that?” He then tactlessly barraged the slain president’s sibling with very specific legal, procedural questions pertaining to taking the oath of office, forcing Bobby to consult his Deputy Attorney General Nicholas Katzenbach who was “absolutely stunned” by Johnson’s crass requests.

The Judge

Elected to the Texas legislature in 1931 and subsequently 14th District Judge in Dallas, Sarah T. Hughes became acquainted with Lyndon Johnson “in 1948 when he ran for the Senate and I campaigned for him at that time.” In 1961, she was appointed to the United States District Court for the Northern District of Texas by President Kennedy over the objections of brother Bobby who was of the opinion that Hughes was “too old” and “would be able to retire after ten years”.

She recounted her drive to Love Field following the entreaty for her specific presence to swear in Lyndon Johnson aboard Air Force One. “I was thinking...that I must get there in a hurry, because Vice President Johnson is always in a hurry and wants things done right now and I shouldn’t delay. And the other thing I was thinking about was what the oath of office was...I was brash enough to think that I could give the oath without having looked it up.” Upon her arrival, she walked into the aircraft’s crowded and stiflingly hot second compartment where she encountered and hugged Lyndon and Lady Bird. Rather than getting directly to the business at hand, Hughes was informed by Johnson that “Mrs. Kennedy wants to be here. We’ll wait for her.”

Ken O’Donnell was charged with the unthinkable task of retrieving Jackie from the rear of the plane for her placement in Johnson’s contrived photo-op and angrily refused. He ultimately relented and was stunned by the nobility of Jackie’s response once she had emerged from freshening up in the restroom.                          

“It’s the least I can do”, she said.

The Photographer

Jacqueline Kennedy was rightfully protective of her children and warned away press members from taking or publishing pictures of them, a wish that, back in those days, could be counted upon to be respected. Her husband, on the other hand, relished the opportunity to ring up his personal photographer Cecil Stoughton for impromptu photo sessions, one of which would produce - among the many iconic images he would capture during Kennedy’s 1,000 day administration - what would forever remain his own personal favorite. Caroline and John Jr. appear to be singing and dancing in front of the president’s desk in the oval office as their doting father sits in his chair and happily claps along. Stoughton is also responsible for the only known picture of Jack, Bobby, and Marilyn Monroe together (at a Democratic fundraiser), as well as Kennedy’s inauguration, state dinners and White House visits, personal vacation snapshots, and national magazine covers. He would also be assigned, as a photojournalist for Time magazine, to Bobby Kennedy’s railway funeral procession.

Kennedy with his children in the oval office.

Accompanying the Kennedys to Dallas, he photographed their arrival on the tarmac at Love Field, rode several cars back in the motorcade, and was rushed along with all other participants to Parkland Hospital. Witnessing Lyndon and Lady Bird Johnson being escorted from the premises, Stoughton asked where they were going and, after being told Washington, replied “So am I” and was conveyed to Love Field in the cruiser of a Texas state trooper which was very nearly shot at by police officers guarding Air Force One with good intentions but itchy trigger fingers. He switched out the color film he had been using that day for black and white that would be suitable for the wire services and was mortified when the shutter of his Hasselblad camera would not engage as the makeshift ceremony began. Fortunately, after a vigorous shake or two, he was able to fire off twenty shots while standing on a couch behind and to the right of Judge Hughes who grasped a Catholic missal on which an extraordinarily solemn Lyndon Johnson placed his left hand, the right raised at a ninety degree angle. ‘Mac’ Kilduff held President Kennedy’s Dictaphone between Hughes and Johnson to record audio documentation of the swearing-in. Lady Bird stands to the right of her husband, partially obscured, while Jackie is positioned prominently and strategically to his left, the bloodstains on her skirt and stockings undetectable because of the manner in which Stoughton prudently framed his shots.

Insubordination

Before landing at Andrews Air Force Base, Johnson made certain that the press was aware that their presence was not only permissible, but sanctioned. His hope was to be filmed stepping off of Air Force One, escorting Jackie as well as Kennedy’s coffin in a visible show of personal solidarity and presidential continuity. Kilduff tried to convince Mrs. Kennedy that it was best to offload the president’s body from a side or rear entrance out of view of the cameras, but she maintained, “We’ll go out the regular way. I want them to see what they have done.” Furthermore, Jackie resisted the suggestion that she change into a clean outfit, one that was not befouled by her husband’s blood and brain matter. “No”, she repeated disobediently. “Let them see what they’ve done.”

No sooner had Air Force One touched down in D.C. than Robert Kennedy burst onboard and headed directly for Jackie. In a breach of both protocol and etiquette, he pushed past Lyndon Johnson, the new president, without so much as acknowledging his existence. Along with O’Donnell, Powers, O’Brien, Kilduff, and McHugh, they hurriedly disembarked, carrying the coffin with them to a waiting ambulance. An abandoned and incensed Johnson was thwarted once more by the Kennedy assembly, promising those left to listen that “I will do my best. That is all I can do. I ask for your help, and god’s.”

It would not take Johnson long to begin throwing his considerable weight around the White House, ordering Kennedy’s personal secretary Evelyn Lincoln, on the morning of November 23 to gather her things and depart the Executive offices so that he could bring in “my own girls”. Having already met with the Joint Chiefs of Staff the night before, Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara and Secretary of State Dean Rusk prodded the new president to move immediately into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, something even he knew to be imprudent, not to mention insensitive.

Regardless of Bobby Kennedy’s vitriolic evaluation of Johnson’s haste to occupy the oval office or else “the world would fall apart”, LBJ did in fact have sincerely fond feelings for Jackie and sought not to injure her, especially in an already fragile state. Lady Bird, who had quite a way with words, put it like this: “Lyndon would like to take all the stars in the sky and string them on a necklace for Mrs. Kennedy.” He was, however, an egocentric individual and would be deeply wounded by the fact that Jackie kept him at a physical and emotional distance from then on, in favor of Bobby to whom she was bound by grief.

With that in mind, it is a good thing for Johnson that Jackie’s 1964 conversations with Arthur Schlesinger would not be published until forty-seven years later. In them, she reveals these none too flattering sentiments. “I guess it’s very good for the country that he could go around and make this air of good feeling and lull so many people into this sense of security, which they wanted after all the tragedy of November. He can’t bear to ever be alone and face something awful. Maybe he wants to disassociate himself so if it goes wrong, he can say ‘I wasn’t there.’”  

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Sources

• Kennedy Assassination: 24 Hours After (2009, Produced by Time Travel Unlimited for History Channel)
• The Bully Pulpit: Theodore Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, and the Golden Age of Journalism by Doris Kearns Goodwin (2014, Simon & Schuster)
• Robert Kennedy and His Times by Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. (1978, Houghton and Mifflin)
• The Death of a President: November 1963 by William Manchester (1967, Harper & Row)
• Mutual Contempt: Lyndon Johnson, Robert Kennedy, and the Feud That Defined a Decade (1997, W.W. Norton & Co.)
• Sarah T. Hughes Oral History Interview 10/7/68 by Joe B. Frantz (from the archives of the Lyndon Baines Johnson Presidential Library
• Cecil Stoughton Dies at 88; Documented White House by Margalit Fox (New York Times, November 6, 2008)
• Jacqueline Kennedy: Historic Conversations on Life with John F. Kennedy: Interviews With Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. 1964 (2011, Hyperion)                                                                                                                                                                                                      

Menticide in the Eastern Bloc – But what does it mean?

The story of Mihail Shipkov is indicative of what happened to many people in communist regimes in the years after World War Two. For his opposition to the government, he was to pay a heavy price – the disturbingly titled “Menticide”. In this article, we conclude the Mihail Shipkov story that was started here and explain American reactions to Menticide.

Richard H. Cummings returns to the site (after the podcast based on his book here) and explains.

Only in the contest of ideas can there be a final victory, which will yield us one world dedicated to peace with freedom.

 - Breakdown, April 1950

In April 1950 broadcasting to Bulgaria and other countries behind the Iron Curtain over Radio Free Europe was yet to come. The National Committee for Free Europe (NCFE), reprinted 100,000 copies of the Shipkov story in a 31-page pamphlet in the “public interest” with the long descriptive title Breakdown: how the Communist secret police are able to pry confessions of treason out of men and women who love their country, a story courageously laid bare for the first time in March, 1950. 

The first page contained this summary of the pamphlet: 

Telling how the Communist secret police are able to pry confessions of treason out of men and women who love their country, a story courageously laid bare for the first time by Michael Shipkov.

The cover of the pamphlet Breakdown.

In an April 25, 1950, cover letter to NCFE members, including future President Dwight D. Eisenhower and future CIA Director Allen Dulles, NCFE President DeWitt C. Poole wrote, “Our Committee III --the Committee on American Contacts -- has prepared ... pamphlets as part of our campaign to reach the American public ... I am sure you will agree that these pamphlets will prove useful in our struggle for victory in the contest of ideas.” 

The back cover of the pamphlet told the American public:

The Committee's members are convinced that the danger of the present crisis cannot be exaggerated. Freedom is at stake. At this very moment it is being decided what kind of world our grandchildren are going to live in.

The ultimate decision lies in the contest of ideas. Only a world relieved of totalitarian despotism and held together by the tested ideals of freedom and democracy can live in peace. In the struggle for this consummation the National Committee for Free Europe offers every single citizen the opportunity to throw in his weight.

Allen W. Dulles.

Allen Dulles sent a copy of the NCFE pamphlet to psychiatrist Dr. George Eaton Daniels, M.D., Columbia University, and asked him if he would review it in view of a possible “psychiatric appraisal of the effect of the procedures used by Iron Curtain countries to obtain confessions from their prisoners.”

Dulles followed this up with a telephone conversation with Dr. Daniels, who turned down the appraisal possibility for professional reasons but supplied Dulles with names of other specialists who might be willing to help, including Dr. Iago Galdston.         

On April 27, 1950, Daniels sent a note to Dulles, with Galdston’s telephone number and address, and the comment: “As I mentioned, the Academy has a section on Neurology and Psychiatry from which I believe competent neurologists and psychiatrists could be selected for the study which you have in mind.” Dulles made wrote a note for the file on April 28, 1950:

Dr. Daniels, after talking with Dr. Nolan D. C. Lewis, suggested that possibly the New York Academy of Medicine would be the best organ through which to work and that Dr. Galdston at the Academy would be the appropriate man to approach. The New York Academy could, of course, bring in any nation-wide organization that seemed desirable.

Eleanor Roosevelt

Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt was an ardent supporter of the NCFE and Crusade for Freedom. In 1950 she wrote about this pamphlet in her national syndicated column, My Day, which was published six days a week from 1935 to 1962. In her March 9, 1950, column she wrote:

I am sure many people were very much interested in the account given by Michael Shipkov, a Bulgarian, who explained how it was possible to make individuals confess treason in a Communist-dominated court, regardless of the truth. I am sorry to say that intimidation has been used in practically every country by some of its officials who felt it legitimate because they were trying to obtain some particular kind of testimony. I have heard with concern of methods used occasionally in some of our police courts. None of them, however, seems to have acquired quite the technique that brings about these mass confessions in the Soviet court-rooms. I was sorry this morning to read that Mr. Shipkov had been taken a prisoner and now has confessed to being a spy for the Americans!

In her June 2, 1950 column, she wrote:

A little booklet I have just read, published by The National Committee for Free Europe, Inc., called: "Breakdown"—"The story of Michael Shipkov in the hands of the secret police." This pamphlet will give you a picture of how, under authoritarian regimes, confessions are finally extorted. One shudders to think what horrors confront people where justice no longer exists; where they live under constant espionage and where freedom is something they may once have dreamed of but no longer know as a reality.

It seems impossible for people ever to free themselves under the circumstances described in this pamphlet. Neither is it conceivable for a nation to go forward and develop economically, spiritually or socially under this type of government. Living must become so utterly futile. Even under the lash of fear one must cease to work and produce because life is so completely valueless. No one could want to bring children into a world where people are no longer allowed any personal freedom and must face moral and mental domination.

Dulles and the Shipkov report

On April 10, 1953, Allen Dulles, now CIA Director, made a speech entitled “Brain Warfare,” at the National Alumni Conference of Graduate Council of Princeton University. He referenced the Shipkov case: “The techniques employed in the case of Shipkov were somewhat crude but give the pattern of the later more refined methods.” 

Dulles then quoted from the Shipkov report:

Out of the jumbled memories, some impressions stand out vivid. One: they are not over interested in what you tell them. It would appear that the ultimate purpose of this treatment is to break you down completely, and deprive you and any will power or private thought or self-esteem, which they achieve remarkably quickly. And they seem to pursue a classic confession, well round off in the phraseology, explaining why you were induced by environment and education to enter the services of the enemies of Communism, how you placed your capacities in their services, what ultimate goal did you pursue – the overthrow of the people’s government through foreign intervention. And they appear to place importance on the parallel appearance of repentance and self-condemnation that come up with the breaking down of their prisoner.

Quite simply, that explains the terrible menticide.

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This article is based on a piece that originally appeared on the fascinating site, http://coldwarradios.blogspot.com.

Charles Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle – And what he discovered…

Charles Darwin’s remarkable travels aboard HMS Beagle opened his eyes to the concept of natural selection and paved the way towards a scientific and human revolution. In this article, Davide Previti explains the importance of the voyage and what happened when Darwin returned to Britain.

A photograph of Charles Darwin from 1881. By Herbert Rose Barraud.

In December 1831 Charles Darwin set off on the historic journey that would lead him to write The Origin of the Species. This was a book that would not only begin a scientific revolution but would also be responsible for changing our perception of humanity and of our position in the world.

As he experienced earthquakes and volcanoes he came to understand how the earth changes, he found the fossils of extinct mammals that would make him question the fixity of species, and he realized that both animals and humans must compete to survive.

A Chaos Of Delight

Darwin was offered the chance to join Robert Fitzroy, the Captain of the rebuilt brig HMS Beagle on a voyage to Tierra del Fuego at the tip of South America. Fitzroy feared the loneliness of command and invited Darwin to accompany him as the ship’s naturalist. Darwin brought weapons and books for the journey and the Beagle set sail from Plymouth in southern England with a crew of 73 on December 27, 1831.

The voyage was not an easy one as Darwin suffered from terrible seasickness; however the physical hardships he had to endure were offset by the incredible opportunities he was presented with to explore the world. As the ship’s naturalist, Darwin was able to leave the confines of the Beagle to pursue his own interests and as a result, over the course of the five-year voyage, he only spent 18 months aboard HMS Beagle.

In Brazil, Darwin witnessed slavery first hand and pondered how sustainable the system could be, noting in his diary:

“If the free blacks increase in numbers (as they must) and become discontented at not being equal to white men, the epoch of the general liberation would not be far distant.”[1]

It was also in Brazil that Darwin found the Rainforests that would leave his mind in ‘a chaos of delight.’ He spent months in Rio de Janeiro studying ‘gaily coloured’ flatworms and spiders. It was here that Darwin would find evidence against the beneficent design of nature when he witnessed parasitic wasps that would lay eggs inside live caterpillars, which would then be eaten alive by the grubs when they hatched.[2] Darwin also discovered fossils and the bones of huge, long extinct mammals, which raised questions about what could have caused these animals to die out.

On the final leg of the voyage Darwin completed his diary and completed 1,750 pages of notes. He packed up all his samples, the fossils, skins, bones and carcasses he had collected. This was the raw material he would use to formulate his theory of evolution.

Heresy and Corruption

The fossils Darwin had collected fuelled his speculations. In 1837 he became a convinced transmutationist (evolutionist) after his Beagle collections had been examined by expert British naturalists.[3] He had brought back the fossils of huge extinct armadillos, anteaters, and sloths that he hypothesized had been replaced by their own kind according to some unknown “law of succession of types.” These theories were considered, by Cambridge clerics as:

“bestial, if not blasphemous, heresy that would corrupt mankind and destroy the spiritual safeguards of the social order.”[4]

As a Unitarian, Darwin based his beliefs on reason and experience. He used such beliefs to frame his image of mankind’s place in nature, stating in his first evolutionary notebook:

“Animals whom we have made our slaves we do not like to consider our equals. Do not slave holders wish to make the black man other kind? Animals with affections, imitation, fear of death, pain, sorrow for the dead, respect.”

Darwin continued to question religion, especially Christianity. Identifying himself as agnostic, he would eventually stop believing in Christianity altogether and instead adopted natural selection as his deity.[5] For years Darwin filled his notebooks with ruminations and ideas. He considered extinction and noted his theory that life represented a branching tree rather than a ladder that humans sat at the top of.

At this time Darwin was not the only scientist that had theories of evolution. The difference between his notion and those of his peers was that Darwin put forward the unique idea of natural selection, a theory that explains how and why evolution happens.

It is said that Darwin first began to formulate the idea of natural selection when he saw how breeders could effectively change dogs and pigeons by identifying and accentuating certain traits through breeding. Equally, the population was expanding in Britain at the time, and in 1834 a poor law was amended. This played a role in separating men and women to stop them breeding.

Darwin realized that the increase in the population had lead to a lack of resources. And, with more mouths to feed there was less to go around. It occurred to Darwin this competition would ultimately weed out the unfit and it was when he applied this idea to nature that he had formulated the basis of a theory that would forever change the way we view life on earth.

Darwin took 20 years to publish The Origin of the Species, which would go into great detail to explain the theory of natural selection. He had seen so much on his voyage, he undoubtedly found it difficult to find the time to condense his experiences into proofs that would back-up his theory. He did however produce a 230-page abstract of his theory in 1842 and would expand that to a 300-page paper in the summer of 1844. Darwin revised his ideas over the course of those two decades and added to them as he came across new evidence and information.

An Intellectual and Conceptual Revolution

When he finally published The Origin of The Species with its explanation of natural selection, without reference to God, a higher power or a creator, it changed the way scientists looked at evolution. According to the eminent late evolutionary biologist Ernst Mayr, "Eliminating God from science made room for strictly scientific explanations of all natural phenomena; it gave rise to positivism; it produced a powerful intellectual and spiritual revolution, the effects of which have lasted to this day."[6]

More than just something that changed the world of science, the notion man, animals and plants were effectively descending from the same replicable cell is something that is very difficult to put into perspective even nowadays. Man, the ruler of the world, the smartest of creatures, the creator of art and music was not born superior from the outset, but equal. This thought was unbearable to many at the time and that is no surprise. The famous depictions of Darwin as a monkey that appeared on newspapers such as The London Sketch-book and in satirical magazines like La Petite Lune appear to us nowadays as testaments of fear and disbelief.

This moment in history is capital: man’s status amongst all things, was, once again, completely downsized. It is reminiscent of when Galileo told the world the Earth was not the center of the universe but only one of the many planets orbiting the larger sun. Man has always had an idea of itself as more important in the order of things and realizations that point to its smallness and insignificance always come as a shock.

The presence of God to explain the way the world and humanity came about is comforting -it elevates man to a higher level. In the book of Genesis God says: "Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; and let them rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over the cattle and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth."[7] How wonderful to think that man is equated to God and was born to rule the Earth and all the creatures on it. Darwin wipes all of this away and leaves us to face a cold reality: scientifically we are nothing more than a conglomeration of cells which just happened to evolve differently to other plants and creatures. How about that for a paradigm shift in perception?

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Finally, you can track all the stops and events of Darwin’s voyage of the Beagle in the infographic available here.

1. http://darwinbeagle.blogspot.co.uk/2007/07/3rd-july-1832-comments-on-slavery-in.html

2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ichneumonoidea

3. http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/20665232

4. http://www.faithology.com/biographies/charles-darwin

5. http://www.faithology.com/biographies/charles-darwin

6. http://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/the-big-question-how-important-was-charles-darwin-and-what-is-his-legacy-today-1216258.html

7. The Parallel Bible (Peabody MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2009), p. 2.

Charles Darwin as a monkey in The London Sketch-book (1874).

Charles Darwin depicted as a monkey on a tree in La Petite Lune (1878).

A more Adventurous Lawrence of Arabia? The life of General Robert Rollo Gillespie

Robert Gillespie was one of the legends of his age. During his life (1766-1814), the Northern Irishman fought in all manner of arenas and participated in some amazing events. He stared death in the face many times - and came out on top much more frequently than his enemies. Here, Frank Jastrzembski starts to tell us of Gillespie’s amazing life.

An 1814 print of Robert Rollo Gillespie.

Major General Robert Rollo Gillespie was a critical agent in helping to solidify the domain of the British crown in the West Indies, Java and India during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Brave, reckless, and aggressive, his tactics played a leading role in the success of a number of campaigns. He lived a charmed life, surviving a number of deadly encounters that made him legendary in the West Indies and India. Author Sir William Thorn embodied Gillespie when he wrote that his soul, “panted for the field of toil, and thirsted for the career of glory.”[1]

A man well known in his own time, he is nearly forgotten today. By the twentieth century, his legacy had slipped into obscurity. Author Eric Wakeman commented that, “It is a curious comment on the difference between the days of Sir Rollo and the present, that a man whose deeds and heroism read almost like a fairy tale should be almost unknown to the general public.”[2] Field Marshal Philip Chetwode remarked that Gillespie’s life, “far exceeds that of Lawrence in glamour and achievement. Yet Lawrence monopolized the headlines and front pages of the world, while Gillespie is almost unknown.”[3]

Early life

Gillespie was born on January 21, 1766, in the small town of Comber, Northern Ireland, into a prestigious family. His descendants journeyed with William the Conqueror to England in 1066, producing a long line of fighting ancestors. Gillespie’s father had every intention of sending his son to the University of Cambridge for an education in law; however, the young Gillespie had other plans. Displaying a lack of interest for the routine of a life dedicated to the practice of law, the strong-headed youth opted to pursue a career as a soldier. His father reluctantly allowed him to become a member of 6th Dragoon Guards in 1783, as a Cornet, unable to persuade his son from a life of hardship as a soldier. 

Gillespie showed an aptitude for attracting danger early in his army career. In 1787, he was asked to act as a second in a duel for a fellow officer by the name of Mackenzie, after an alcohol-fueled altercation with William Barrington. When the opponents met the next day, they fired and missed their shots, which should have satisfied their honor. Gillespie suggested a compromise, which angered Barrington, who insulted the honor of his regiment. In a fit or fury, Gillespie whipped out a handkerchief and challenged Barrington to hold the other corner and duel him at point-blank range.

The duel commenced as both Gillespie and Barrington fired simultaneously. Barrington’s shot carried away the hammer of Gillespie’s pistol, slightly wounding him. Gillespie’s shot hit Barrington directly in the heart, mortally wounding him. After the death of Barrington, he fled and hid in the countryside facing criminal charges, eventually turning himself in to face court-martial. An army tribunal ruled the murder of Barrington as ‘justifiable homicide’, and Gillespie was acquitted.[4]

In 1792, he was transferred as a lieutenant with the 20th Light Dragoons to the West Indies. Gillespie quickly developed an effigy of invincibility that impressed his superiors. In the British attack on the French garrison of Port-au-Prince in 1794, Gillespie and a companion volunteered to swim to the garrison in order to coerce the defenders to surrender. Stripping off his red tunic, Gillespie rolled up his sweat-soiled sleeves, clenched his sword between his teeth, and leapt into the ocean in an attempt to reach the garrison while under gunfire. When Gillespie and his comrade made it successfully to the shores of the fortress, they were immediately taken into custody. Placed under arrest, they were to be executed as spies. Fortunately, Gillespie noticed an insignia of Freemasonry dangling from General Santhonax’s neck. Gillespie, a fellow Freemason, managed to charm Santhonax enough to allow for his release.[5]

8 versus 1

Another incident that helped to solidify the Gillespie legend in the West Indies took place one night while he was at his quarters in St. Domingo. Gillespie was woken from his deep slumber by the desperate cries of a familiar voice. In his fancy nightgown and dragoon sword in hand, Gillespie came dashing down the stairs to a fearful scene. The cries came from his servant who was desperately wounded in the arm. Eight intruders had broken into his residence in the dark of night. The intruders had an eight to one advantage over Gillespie. When most men would have baulked at these hopeless odds, Gillespie did what he knew best.

With superhuman strength, Gillespie warded off the eight intruders. Fighting in a style similar to that of the Three Musketeers, he managed to kill six of the intruders and so caused the panicked flight of the other two. One of the fleeing intruders fired a pistol at Gillespie that severed his temporal artery. When a patrol finally arrived to the scene of disturbance, they stepped over six disfigured bodies and found the badly wounded Gillespie clinging to life in his bedroom. The desperately wounded Gillespie was granted leave to Britain, and met King George III who was rumored to have remarked, “Is this the little man that killed the brigands?” He soon returned to Jamaica to take command of the 20th Light Dragoons.[6]  

Gillespie had grown tired with his post in Jamaica after eleven years of service, rising to the rank of colonel. The daily routine of garrison duty left him eager for battle. He requested a transfer to the 19th Light Dragoons, stationed in India.

Most of the officers who chose to make the long journey from Britain to their new assignments in India did so by sea. Traversing this journey by land would entail a traveler to make the journey through the harsh and hostile landscape of the Middle East. Naturally, Gillespie chose to make the journey to his new post by land.

To India

When he arrived in Constantinople, he was invited to dine with a French officer resident in the city. Gillespie humbly declined the dinner invitation on the excuse that he sought to return to his quarters for the night. The officers would have parted ways uneventfully if the Frenchman had not proclaimed in a sarcastic tone, “I shall be glad to kill an Englishman.” Gillespie turned and locked eyes with the Frenchman and coolly replied, “As it is your wish to kill an Englishman, I am come to give you that satisfaction, by trying your skill upon me.” As both men were of a chivalrous upbringing, the combatants chose to duel with swords. This was a poor decision on the Frenchman’s part. Gillespie quickly wounded and disarmed the Frenchman, and as an act of generosity, spared him his life.[7]

After making his way across the hazardous desert of Syria and through Persia, he finally arrived at his post in India. He joined the 19th Dragoons at Arcot and took command as colonel, and it did not take long before Gillespie found action in the frontier of India.

A clash was brewing in India due to the poor judgment made by the British officers and officials in regard to their Indian, or sepoy, soldiers. The sepoys had been faithful and brave soldiers of the British crown, but relations had begun to deteriorate between the two. Indeed, relations went from poor to critical when the sepoys were ordered to dramatically alter their appearance and violate their religious customs by shaving their beards, removing religious marks on their foreheads, and replacing their turbans with British headwear. Sepoys who refused to give into these demands were court-martialed with threats of the loss of rank, dismissal, or even being flogged.

Mutiny

On July 10, 1806, in fear of becoming Christian converts, the sepoys of the 1st and 23rd Regiments of Native Infantry mutinied at Vellore, an old fortification. The mutineers slaughtered their own British officers and managed to kill and wound approximately 200 Europeans in total. Four companies of British infantrymen of the 69th Regiment, and a handful of women and children who escaped the surprise attack were pinned down in a few buildings located within the fortress walls. The closest relief force was the 19th Light Dragoons stationed in nearby Arcot. The night before the mutiny Gillespie was scheduled to dine with the commander of the Vellore garrison, Colonel Fancourt, an old friend from Jamaica. He planned to stay the night at Colonel Fancourt’s quarters, but fortunately for Gillespie, he unexpectedly canceled.

The next day, Gillespie received a message from a frantic officer of the munity as he was riding out to Vellore for breakfast.[8] Without delay, he turned around and headed back to Arcot. This excerpt of the poem Gillespie, by Sir Henry Newbolt, immortalizes the events:

He thundered back to Arcot gate,

He thundered up through Arcot town,

Before he thought a second thought

In the barrack yard he lighted down.

Trumpeter, sound for the Light Dragoons,

Sound to saddle and spur,' he said;

'He that is ready may ride with me,

And he that can may ride ahead.

Fierce and fain, fierce and fain,

Behind him went the troopers grim,

They rode as ride the Light Dragoons

But never a man could ride with him.

Their rowels ripped their horses' sides,

Their hearts were red with a deeper goad,

But ever alone before them all

Gillespie rode, Gillespie rode.

Alone he came to false Vellore,

The walls were lined, the gates were barred;

Alone he walked where the bullets bit,

And called above to the Sergeant's Guard.

'Sergeant, Sergeant, over the gate,

Where are your officers all?' he said;

Heavily came the Sergeant's voice,

'There are two living and forty dead.'

'A rope, a rope,' Gillespie cried:

They bound their belts to serve his need.

There was not a rebel behind the wall

But laid his barrel and drew his bead.

There was not a rebel among them all

But pulled his trigger and cursed his aim,

For lightly swung and rightly swung

Over the gate Gillespie came.

He dressed the line, he led the charge,

They swept the wall like a stream in spate,

And roaring over the roar they heard

The galloper guns that burst the gate.

Fierce and fain, fierce and fain,

The troopers rode the reeking flight:

The very stones remember still

The end of them that stab by night.

They've kept the tale a hundred years,

They'll keep the tale a hundred more:

Riding at dawn, riding alone,

Gillespie came to false Vellore.

The one hundred beaten mutineers were found hiding in the Vellore palace and placed, by Gillespie’s orders, against a wall and fired on by canister shot until every one of them was killed.[9] The brutality of this incident would foreshadow the violence of the 1857 Indian Rebellion.

Now, the story of Gillespie concludes here.

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Further Reading

• Kanchanmoy, Mojumdar. Anglo-Nepalese Relations in the Nineteenth Century. Calcutta: Firma K.L. Mukhopadhyay, 1973.

• Pemble, John. Britain's Gurkha War: The Invasion of Nepal, 1814-16. London: Frontline Books, 2009.

• Pemble, John. “Forgetting and Remembering Britain's Gurkha War.” Asian Affairs 40, no. 3 (2009): 361–376.

• Thorn, William. A Memoir of Major-General R. R. Gillespie. London: T. Edgerton, 1816.

• Thornton, Leslie Heber. Campaigners Grave & Gay: Studies of Four Soldiers of the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1925.

• Wakeman, Eric. The Bravest Soldier, Sir Rollo Gillespie, 1766-1814, A Historical Military Sketch. London: William Blackwood and & Sons Ltd., 1937.

1. William Thorn, A Memoir of Major-General R. R. Gillespie (London: T. Edgerton, 1816), 8.

2. Eric Wakeman, The Bravest Soldier, Sir Rollo Gillespie, 1766-1814, A Historical Military Sketch (London: William Blackwood and & Sons Ltd., 1937), xv.

3. Wakeman, The Bravest Soldier, xvi.

4. Wakeman, The Bravest Soldier, 16-20. Leslie Heber Thornton, Campaigners Grave & Gay: Studies of Four Soldiers of the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1925), 98.

5. Wakeman, The Bravest Soldier, 39-40. Charles Whitlock Moore, “Masonic Anecdote. The Late Major General Sir Robert Rollo Gillespie, K.C.B.” The Freemasons' Monthly Magazine IV (1845): 276.

6. Wakeman, The Bravest Soldier, 58-59. Thorn, A Memoir of Major-General R. R. Gillespie, 39-40.

7. Wakeman, The Bravest Soldier, 86-87.

8. Thornton, Campaigners Grave & Gay, 97.

9. Wakeman, The Bravest Soldier, 111.