Category Archives: History

God bless you Canada

Canada is a fine country, rarely appreciated in the USA because most of it is so similar to us — One of my favorite places to visit in Canada was the museum of Canadiana — a museum dedicated to the differences between the US and Canada. Differences do exist, but they are few and small, as you can tell perhaps from the song below, “God Bless You Canada,” by Lee Greenwood, the same fellow who wrote, “God Bless the USA.” The tunes and words are strongly similar, I’d say.

Canada is much easier to reach than Hawaii for the most part, or Alaska, Puerto Rico, or Guam, it’s just north of Montana and south of Alaska and Detroit. And Canadian English is at least as understandable as a southern drawl or a New Yorker twang. Canada has far fewer murders but far more rapes, armed robberies and assaults. It has the same suicide rate as we do, but by different means. And Toronto’s mayor was on crack like Detroit’s mayor.

Canadian $2 coin, Elizabeth II, by the grace of god, Queen. The last part is in Latin.

Canadian $2 coin, Elizabeth II, by the grace of god, Queen (it’s in Latin).

Canada has a Queen, Elizabeth II, that it shares with several other countries including England, Australia, and Barbados. This is no to say that Canada isn’t quite independent: the main power of Canada’s Queen, like with the US president, is “the bully pulpit”. As in The United States. The press does its best to rein in this power.

If Canada were to join the US as the 51 state, it be the 3rd largest state in population (after Texas and California) and the 3rd largest in GDP (after New York and California). Not that all of Canada is likely to join, but certain parts might (New Brunswick, Newfoundland, Labrador) if Quebec goes its separate way. Québécois like remember that they were originally French. “Je me Souviens” is the Quebec motto, and having an English Queen irks. One of my favorite Canada facts (maybe true) is that the name Canada is French for Ça nada (nothing here) but tit’s not sure, there is stuff and people there. My wife is from there. Listen to the song, “God Bless you, Canada”, I suspect you’ll like it.

Robert Buxbaum, September 17, 2018.

The Great, New York to Paris, Automobile race of 1908.

As impressive as Lindberg’s transatlantic fight was in 1926, more impressive was George Schuster driving and winning the New York to Paris Automobile race beginning in the dead of winter, 1908, going the long way, through Russia. As of 1908, only nine cars had ever made the trip from Chicago to California, and none had done it in winter, but this race was to go beyond California, to Alaska and then over the ice through Russia and to Paris. Theodore Roosevelt was president, and Americans were up to any challenge. So, on February 12, 1908 there congregated in Times Square, New York, a single, US-made production car, along with five, specially made super-cars from Europe; one each from Italy and Germany; and three from France. The US car, a Thomas Flyer (white), is shown in the picture below. The ER Thomas company sent along George Schuster, as an afterthought: he was a mechanic and test-driver for the company, and was an ex bicycle racer. The main driver was supposed to be Montague Roberts, a dashing sportsmen, but the fellow dropped out in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Schuster reached the Eiffel tower on July 30, 1908, 169 days after leaving New York. The Germans and Italians followed. None of the French super-cars got further than Vladivostok, and one dropped out after less than 100 miles.

The race was sponsored by The New York Times and Le Matin, a Paris newspaper. They offered a large trophy, a cash prize of $1000, not enough to pay for the race, and the prospect of fame. The original plan was for drivers to go from New York to San Francisco, then to Seattle by ship, and Northern Alaska, driving to Russia across the Arctic ice. That plan was abandoned when Schuster, the first driver to reach Alaska, discovered ten foot snows outside of Valdez. The race was modified so that travel to Russia would be by ship. Schuster took his Thomas to Russia from Alaska, the other two drivers reached Russia from Seattle by way of Japan. Schuster was given a bonus of days to account for having taken the longer route. Because of his detour, he was the last to arrive in Russia. From Japan, the route was Vladivostok, Omsk, Moscow, St. Petersburg, Berlin, and Paris, 21,900 miles total; 13,341 miles driven. Schuster drove most of those 13,341 miles, protected by his own .32-caliber pistol, and mostly guided by the stars and a sextant. He’d taught himself celestial navigation as there were no roadmaps, and hardly any roads.

George Schuster driving the Thomas Flyer, the only American entry, and the only production motorcar in the race.

George Schuster driving the Thomas Flyer with another mechanic, George Miller, the Flyer was only American entry, and the only production motorcar in the race. Note that the flag has only 45 stars.

The ship crossing of the Pacific was a good idea given that, even in the dead of winter, global warming meant that the arctic could not be relied upon to be solid ice. As it was, Schuster had to content with crossing the Rockies in deep snow, and crossing Russia in the season of deepest mud. He reached the Eiffel tower at 6 p.m. on July 30, 1908. The German car had arrived in Paris three days ahead of Schuster, but was penalized to second place because the German team had avoided the trip to Alaska, and had traveled some 150 km of the Western US by railroad while Schuster had driven. The Italian team reached Paris months later, in September, 1908. That the win went to the only production car to compete is indicative, perhaps of the reliability that comes with mass production. That Mr. Schuster was not given the fame that Lindberg got may have to do with the small size of the prize, or with him being a mechanic while Lindberg was a “flyer”. Flyers were sexy; even the car was called a flyer. The Times saw fit to hardly mention Schuster at all, and when it did, it spelled his name wrong. Instead the Times headline read, “Thomas Flyer wins New York to Paris Race.” You’d think the car did it on its own, or that the driver was named Thomas Flyer.

The Flyer crossing a swollen  river in Manchuria.

Schuster in his Flyer crossing a swollen river in Manchuria.

The Times could not get enough of Montague Roberts; the driver of the first leg was famous and photographic. They tried to get Roberts to drive the last few miles into Paris, “once the roads were good”. And Roberts was the one chosen to drive in the hero-parade in New York, Schuster rode too, but didn’t drive. Schuster was feted by Theodore Roosevelt, though, who said he liked people “who did things.” Schuster said he’d never do a race like that again, and he never did race again.

The race did wonders for the reputation of American automobiles, and greatly spurred the desire for roads, but it did little or nothing for the E.R.Thomas company. Thomas cars were high cost, high power models, and they lost out in the marketplace to Henry Ford’s, low-cost Model T’s. You’d think that, in the years leading up to WWI, the US Army might buy a high cost, high reliability car, but they were not interested, and the Thomas company did little to capitalize on their success. The Flyer design that won the race was discontinued. It was a 60 hp, straight 4 cylinder engine version, replaced by lower cost Flyers with 3 cylinders and 24 hp. Shortly after that, Edwin R. Thomas, decided to drop the Flyer altogether. His company went bankrupt in 1912, and was bought by Empire Smelting. The original Flyer was sold in 1913 at a bankruptcy action, lot #1829, “Famous New York to Paris Racer.”

ER Thomas went on to found another car company, as was the style in those days. Thomas-Detroit went on make similar cars to the Flyer, but cheaper. The largest, the K-30, was only 30 hp. The original Thomas Flyer is now in the National Automobile Museum, Reno Nevada. after being identified by Schuster and restored. Here is a video showing the original Flyer being driven by a grandson of George Schuster. There is a lower-power Thomas Flyer (black) in a back space of the Henry Ford museum (Detroit). Protos vehicles, similar to the one that came in second, were produced for the German military through WWI. Their manufacturer, Siemens, benefited, as did the German driver.

Advertisement for the Protos Automobile, a product of Siemens motor company. The race did not include a production Protos but one made specially for the race.

Advertisement for the Protos Automobile, a product of Siemens motor company. The race did not include a production Protos but one made specially for the race.

The Thomas engine (and the Protos) engine) live on in a host of cars with water-cooled, four-cylinder, straight engines. In 1922, Chalmers-Detroit merged with Maxwell and continued to produce versions of the old Flyer design, now with an internal drive-shaft. The original Flyer was powered via a gear-chain, like a bicycle. In 1928, Maxwell was sold to Chrysler. Chrysler persists in calling their high-power, four-cylinder engines by the name Chalmers. As for Schuster, when ER Thomas closed its doors, he had still not been paid for his time as a race driver. He went to work for Pierce-Arrow, another maker of large, heavy vehicles. The “cheaper by the dozen” family (two parents, 12 kids) drove a Pierce-Arrow.

The Great race appears in two documentaries and two general audience movies, both comedies. The first of these was Mishaps of the New York–Paris Race, released by Georges Méliès, July 1908, just about as the Flyer was entering Paris. The second movie version  “The Great Race” was released in 1965. It’s one of my favorite movies, with Jack Lemon as the Protos driver (called Dr. Fate in the movie), Tony Curtis as “The Great Leslie”, the Flyer driver. For the movie, the Flyer is called “The Leslie”, and with Natalie Wood as a female reporter who rides along and provides the love interest. In the actual race reporters from the New York Times, male, traveled in the Flyer’s rear seat sending stories back by carrier pigeon.

Path of the Great Race

Path of the Great Race

As a bit of fame, here’s George Schuster in 1958 on “What’s my secret.” He was 85, and no one knew of him or the race. Ten years later, in 1968, Schuster finally received his $1000 prize, but still no fame. A blow-by-blow of the race can be found here, in Smithsonian magazine. There is also an article about the race in The New York Times, February 10, 2008. This article includes only two pictures, a lead picture showing one of the French cars, and another showing Jeff  Mahl, the grandson of George Schuster, and a tiny bit of the flyer. Why did the New York Times choose these pictures? My guess is it’s the same reason that they reported as they did in 1908: The French car looked better than the Flyer, and Jeff Mahl looked better than George Schuster.

Robert Buxbaum, July 20, 2018. What does all this mean, I’ve wondered as I wrote this essay. There were so many threads, and so many details. After thinking a bit, my take is that the movie versions were right. It was all a comedy. Life becomes a comedy when the wrong person wins, or the wrong vehicle does. A simple mechanic working for a failing auto company beat great drivers and super cars, surpassing all sorts of obstacles that seem impossible to surpass. That’s comedy, It’s for this reason that Dante’s Divine Comedy is a comedy. When we see things like this we half-choose to disbelieve, and we half-choose to laugh, and because we don’t quite believe, very often we don’t reward the winner as happened to Schuster for the 60 years after the race. Roberts should have won, so we’ll half-pretend he did.

Wilsonian Obama vs the Trump Doctrine

As best I see it, Obama’s approach to world peace was a version of Woodrow Wilson’s: he consistently supported left-leaning, popular groups and governments, even when they were anti-American over pro-American kings, generals, and dictators. Obama heaped money and praise on elected leaders of Iran and the Palestinian Authority, while condemning Israel, and encouraging Democrats to walk out of a speech its PM. He then sent a statement to be read on the floor of congress that the Israeli PM  had nothing to say. Similarly, Obama refused to negotiate with Kim Jung Un of North Korea, a dictator in his eyes, but he had no problem with Raul Castro. Leftists, in his view, were for the masses, and thus democratic. Such democrats were on the side of the angels in his view, though Castro’s Cuba was not exactly free.

The co-head of the Democratic Party wears a shirt that reads "I don't believe in borders." It's a Moslem Brotherhood slogan. They do not believe in borders between Gaza and Israel, but do believe in them between Yemen and Saudi Arabia.

The co-head of the Democratic Party wears a shirt that reads “I don’t believe in borders.” It’s a globalist slogan, a Moslem Brotherhood slogan. The Trump doctrine requires boundaries between ‘turf.”

One of the most popular, if violent groups on the world stage was (is) the Moslem Brotherhood. A few months after becoming president, he gave his first foreign speech at Cairo University,  making the Wilsonian request to include the Brotherhood here and in all further negotiations. The Moslem Brotherhood was anti-American and left leaning, and they favored elections. On the other hand, they had assassinated Egyptian president Anwar el-Sadat and Egyptian prime minister Mohammad Pasha just a few years previous. They had also tried to overthrow the government of Egypt and Jordan by force, and had tried to assassinate Egyptian president Nasser and Jordan’s kings Abdullah and Hussein, unsuccessfully. Including the Brotherhood was symptomatic of a general problem of Wilsonian diplomacy; it provides no good way to tell the good guys from the bad without putting them in power. Some hints: the Brotherhood afforded no rights to women or gays; they had no clear distinctions from Hezbollah, Hamas, or Al Qaeda; and they were anti-American and anti Israel to the extent that they shouted death to both.

Even though the Moslem Brotherhood was Sunni-Moslem, a fair number in the mid-east cane to claim that Obama had included them because he was a Shiite Moslem, and just using them to overthrow more-stable Sunni governments of Egypt, Jordan, Turkey, and Saudi Arabia. Here’s a bit from an Iraqi MP, and from Saudi TV making this claim. Here too is a joke about Sunni and Shia to help you keep the two groups straight. Whatever his motivation, the outcome was the so-called Arab Spring (2011) uprisings that overthrew pro-American regimes in Egypt, Algeria, Tunisia and Turkey. It also brought the end of a free press in Turkey, and trouble for pro-American regimes in Bahrain, UAE, and Saudi Arabia. After the Brotherhood murdered the American ambassador in Libya and his (few) US guards, Obama blamed the death on some Jewish film-makers. My sense is that Obama was unwilling to believe that a fellow leftist of the Brotherhood would lie to him and murder our ambassador just to get at billions of dollars of Libya’s oil.

Trump, his daughter, el Sisi, and the King of Saudi Arabia. No Emir of Qatar.

Trump, Melania, the King of Saudi Arabia, and  el-Sisi of Egypt at a meeting in Riyadh with other friendly leaders; no Emir of Qatar, no Muslim Brotherhood.

Wilson lived to see the Mid-east parts of his 14 points lead to disaster in country after country (those were points V, XI, and XII for the Woody Woo fans). Obama similarly backed Kurdish and Hezbollah “moderates” only to see them turn sides and fight one another, or fight against our ally Turkey, or join together and form ISIS. He backed Palestinians in Gaza too, and saw them murder gays and suspected traitors on TV. He supported “moderate” Turkey, and found his Turkish allies killing his Kurds. Obama fueled a murderous tribal war, like Wilson had done, based on the best of intentions, and an American naiveté about how the world works.

Closer to home, at the very end of Obama’s presidency, he ended the registry of the National Security Entry-Exit System (NSEERS) intended to track terrorists. He closed this border program because it was racist in his view. Most of the illegals caught were Moslems or brown-skinned. Republicans seem to agree that a border-security program like this is problematic, especially where children are involved, but they claim it is better than letting in terrorists, or criminals, or the occasional human trafficker. Lacking anyone with a better answer, they elected Donald Trump, a man who claimed he’d bring peace by building a wall.

Trump made his first mideast speech in Saudi Arabia, but unlike Obama, he invited only pro-American, authoritarian leaders. He left out the Muslim Brotherhood and the rulers of any “republican” government that chanted “Death to America.” Trump announced that the US will not dictate how leaders should run their countries, or how people in these countries should live. Instead, we would be a friend to our friends, and that we would mediate disputes where necessary and helpful. There was also a threat against “bad guys” understood to be the enemies of America.

This “Trump doctrine” seems (to me) to have been borrowed from Charles (Lucky) Luciano, a New York mob boss who kept peace between the various mob families of New York and New Jersey by keeping the territories separate and clear (similar to Trump’s wall). Luciano allowed the various family heads to do what they wanted on their own turf, and offered to mediate disputes (see the similarity?). He also treated to hit those who hit him, and he took no guff. So far, Trump’s version of this seems to be working. The mideast is far calmer than when Obama was president, perhaps because its leaders understand Trump better, and Trump may have negotiated an end to the Korean war. Wilsonian Democrats (Obama) claimed that you can’t negotiate with a murderous thug like Kim Jung Un, but Trump has no problem — they both like walls. Besides, Trump points out that the alternative is nuclear war.

I suspect that Trump is hated by the Europeans is the comparison with Obama. Obama spent our money liberally, on them and on their issues, while Trump does not. A thought: if the Europeans think a president is spending enough, he's spending too much.

Obama spent our money liberally on the Europeans while Trump does not. A thought: if the Europeans think you spend enough, you’re spending too much.

How does Trump hit back? For one, he refuses to serve as free protector for those who can defend themselves. Trump has threatened Germany saying they must pay for their own defense, and has cut funding to the UN Human Rights commission and the Paris climate council, groups he considers pointless or worse. More recently, he ended Obama’s constraints on natural gas exploration and exports. In 2017 US gas exports rose by $4B, a factor of four from 2016, dramatically lowering the price of natural gas on the open market. Several oil nations were hit by this including Qatar the main gas exporter in 2014 (Russia is now) and a main funder of Al Jazeera, and of Al Qaeda, Hezbollah, and Hamas.

Robert Buxbaum, June 26, 2018. I’ve never understood why people expect Marxist leaders to be peaceful. Marx himself claims that the mode of production determines a country’s social, political and intellectual life. A leader hoping to control the latter must control the former with a war-like ferocity if he’s to be a Marxist, and even the most milk-toast Marxists have done so.

The worst president was John Adams

Every now and again a magazine cites a group of historians to pick the best and worst presidents. And there, at the bottom of the scale, I typically find James Buchanan, Franklin Pierce, Andrew Johnson; Warren Harding, and/or Ulysses Grant, none of whom deserve the dishonor, in my opinion. For Pierce and Buchanan, their high crime was to not solve the slavery /succession problem — as if this was a problem that any PhD historian would have been able to solve in a weekend. It was not so simple; the slavery question bedeviled the founding fathers, tormented Daniel Webster and Henry Clay; George Washington and Thomas Jefferson wrestled with it. None could solve it, and all served when the country had relative levels of good feeling. Now, in the 1850s, Pierce and Buchanan inherit this monster, and we blame them for not resolving the slave issue when the nation was at the boiling point and Kansas was burning. They did the best they could in impossible circumstance, buying us time (Pierce also bought us southern Arizona).

Similarly, with Johnson: our historians’ complaint is that he didn’t manage reconstruction well — as if any one of them could have done better. You can’t blame a person for failing in a hopeless situation. Be happy they filled their terms, avoided war with our neighbors, and left the country richer and more populous than they found it.

Moving on to Grant and Harding, their crime was to be president at a time of scandal. But the very essence of this condemnation is that it presents the scandal, a non-issue in the large sweep of America, as if it were the only issue. Both Harding and Grant drank in the white house, and played cards while members of their cabinets stole money. These are major scandals to blue noses, but not so relevant to normal people. Both presidencies were periods of prosperity, employment, and growth. Both presidents paid down the national debt. Harding paid down $2,000,000 of debt, a good chunk of the debt incurred in WWI. Grant paid down a similarly large chunk of the debts of the civil war. Both oversaw times of peace and both signed peace treaties: Harding from WWI, Grant from the civil war and the Indian wars. Both left office with the nation far more prosperous than when they came in. No, these are not bad presidents except in the eyes of puritans who require purity in everyone else, and care little for the needs of the average American.

The worst president, in my opinion, was John Adams, and I would say he set a standard for bad that’s not likely to be beat. How bad was Adams? He oversaw the worst single law ever in American history, the Sedition act. This act, a partner to the Alien act (almost as bad), was pushed though by Adams a mere 8 years after passage of the bill of rights. The act made it illegal to criticize the government in any way. In this, it made a mockery of free expression. Adams put someone in jail for calling him “his rotundancy” — that is, for calling him fat. The supreme court had to step in and undo this unbelievably horrible law, but this was only one of several horrible acts of president Adams.

Another horrible act of president Adams is his decision to pick a war with France, our ally from the revolution. Adams himself had signed the treaty of Paris guaranteeing that we would never go to war with France. So why did Adams do it? He was a puritan, literally. He didn’t like French immorality and hated French Catholicism. He was insulted that French officials had overthrown their king (not that we had done otherwise) that they wore fancy clothes, and that they wanted bribes. He leaked their request for bribes to the press (the XYZ affair) and presented this as the reason for war. So Adams, pure Adams, got us to war with our oldest ally, a war we could not win, and didn’t.

But Adams didn’t stop there. Having decided to go to war, he also decided to stop paying on US debt to the French. He was too pure to pay debt to a nation that overthrew its king and set up a more-egalitarian state than we had. One where slavery was abolished.

Adams, of course, did nothing to address slavery, though he berated others about it. And it’s not like Adams didn’t pay out bribes, just not to the despised Catholics. At the beginning of Adams’s single term a group of Moslems, the Barbary pirates, captured some American ships. Adams agreed to pay bribe after bribe to the Barbary Pirates for return of these US ships. But the more we paid, the more ships the Barbary pirates captured. So Adams, the idiot, just bribed them more. By the end of Adams’s term, 1/4 of the US budget went to pay these pirates. When Jefferson became president, he ended the war with France by the simple solution of buying Louisiana and he sent the US Marines to deal with the pirates of North Africa. Adams could have done these things but didn’t; Jefferson did, and is ranked barely above Adams as a result. So why is it that no historian calls out Addams as an awful president?.I think it’s because Adams wrote beautifully about all the right sentiments, especially to his wife. Historians like writers of high sentiment. According to 170 scholars, the top ten presidents, not counting those on Mount Rushmore are FDR, Truman, Eisenhower, Reagan, Obama, and LBJ.

The bottom ten presidents. And there's Trump at the very bottom, with the usual suspects. Harrison was only president for a month.

The bottom ten presidents. And there’s Trump at the very bottom, with the usual suspects. Harrison was only president for a month.

And that brings us to the new poll. It includes William Henry Harrison among the worst. Harrison took office, became sick almost immediately, and died of Typhoid 31 days after taking office. The white house water supply was just down river from the sewage outlet, something you find in Detroit as well. He did nothing to deserve the dishonor except drinking the water after running a great presidential campaign. His campaign song, Tippecanoe and Tyler too is wonderful listening, even today.

And that brings us to the historian’s worst of the worst. The current president, Donald J. Trump. This is remarkable since it’s only a year into Trumps term, and since he’s done a variety of potentially good things: He ended a few trade deals and regulations that most people agree were bad. The result is that the stock market is up, employment is up, people are back at work, and historians are unhappy. What they want is another FDR, someone who’ll tell us: “We have nothing to fear, but fear itself.” whatever that means. By historian polls FDR is the second or third best president ever.

Robert Buxbaum. April 25, 2018. Semi-irrelevant: here’s a humorous song about Harrison. 

Kennedy’s perfect, boring college-entry essays

To get into any college you have to write an essay or two, generally including one describing why you want to go that particular college, and many students have trouble. How do I make myself stand out, they ask. My suggestion: Don’t. Make it clear that you want to go, but dare to be dull with the details. John Kennedy did; you can too.

JFK's dull letter to Harvard. It's his only essay.

JFK’s dull letter to Harvard. It’s his only essay.

Most school essays limit the number of words. The reviewer too prefers you keep it short. If you want to go to Harvard, or Princeton, or Iowa state, show you can say what needs to be said within the word limit. The first sentence must tell them that you want to go that college, specifically. Mention the college: you want to go to Old Ivy, say. Once that’s taken care of, just state your reasons. Unless you’re going into the writing program, the baldest, simplest terms will work just fine — e.g. that Old Ivy provides an excellent education. It’s better if you can mention a more-specific field of study, e.g. liberal arts or zoölogy, but that’s not necessary. You can now list three or so details to back up your claims. For example, you might mention that the zoölogy program at Old Ivy is well-regarded (mention the school often), that you enjoy their sports team (the ground-hogs, say), or their extracurriculars. Mention that your dad went there or your uncle (and is your hero — hero is a good word) or that you like the location. Surely there is some reason you want to go. If you can mention a famous teacher or alumnus, all the better. Flesh it out if you have space; don’t if you don’t. Conclude with a sentence pointing to the future: that this school will help me do something you want to achieve. You can be specific or not, but don’t lie. Dull is more effective than a lie. I’ve copied, above, John Kennedy’s essay to Harvard, and below his essay to Princeton. These essays follow the pattern, and are dull within the pattern. His conclusion for the first essay: that he wants to go to Harvard to be “a Harvard Man.” He got in. He used the same, dull letter for Princeton, but had more space. For Princeton he said It would have a good effect on me, and that he wanted to be “a Princeton Man.” He got into Princeton too, and went there for two months before switching to Harvard.

John F. Kennedy's, almost identical letter to Princeton. He got in there too.

John F. Kennedy’s, almost identical letter to Princeton. He got in there too.

You may think that letters like this only work if you are John F. Kennedy, and to some extent that is true. But not totally. I got into Princeton grad school from a background in public school, with no famous relatives or money. My grades were better than JFKs, but my essay had the same structure with some more specifics. As I recall, I explained that I wanted to go to Princeton because I wanted to study chemical engineering in a top department. I may have mentioned a famous professor, and stated I wanted to work on nuclear fusion — a big Princeton specialty at the time. That’s about all, as I recall.

This formula can be tweaked for the other college (and non-college) essays. I’ve previously written about the two speeches at the opening of the Gettysburg cemetery, in 1863. Edwin Everett gave the first speech of the day, excerpted and analyzed here. His speech followed the formula and was lauded. He told folks that it was important that we are here honoring the dead, and followed with three or four reasons for why it was important. His conclusion pointed to the future significance of the events. Republicans and Democrat listeners agreed this was a speech to remember from a scholar of note. Everett’s face graced the $50 bill for the 40 years after his death.

Abraham Lincoln also spoke at the Gettysburg dedication, but he didn’t follow the formula. He spoke of liberty, and America, and of a government of the people. His speech was panned at the time, even by Republicans. More details here. Though people now see his Gettysburg address as a landmark, at the time even the Republican press didn’t like it  Fortunately for Lincoln and the republic, they warmed to the speech over the next year – in time for the election of 1864. When you apply to college, you want entry now. You can’t wait a year for people to warm to your essay. Stick to the formula. You don’t want the compliment of finding, years from now, that one of the reviewers who rejected you remembers your words fondly. That will be too late. Write for the dull audience in front of you; help them put your application in the “accepted” box. As a last note: If you can not find any truthful reason that you want to go to Harvard or Old Ivy you probably should not be going there. The beginning of wisdom is self-knowledge, and the primary audience for your essay is you.

If you find you have good reasons, but find you need help with the process or with your english grammar, I should mention that my niece owns a company to help folks get into college — link here. She also has a book “From Public School to The Ivy League.

Robert E. Buxbaum, August 7, 2017. Some two years ago, I wrote an essay for my daughter on the joys and pressures of entering her junior year in high school. Here it is. 

Peace killed the Indian, ended Spain’s golden age

The why of history is always more speculative than the what. Yet, to write about only the what, is to do only half of the job, if that. The what is largely interchangeable: the names of kings and generals, the dates and locals of battles and treaties. It’s the why that adds interest, and provides whatever lessons one can take forward. With this as background, I’d like to speculate on the cause of: the destruction of the American Indian, and the end of the golden age of Spain. For both and some others, I suggest an unusual villain, peace: too much peace. It’s a speculative why, but bear with me.

Lets start with the American Indian. In the mid 1700s, Indians controlled the majority of the continent. They had an advanced society of six main nations, held together by mutual treaty. The Indians had few guns, but were not less intelligent than the Japanese or Chinese, suggesting that they could have learned to make them if they desired (or realized they needed to desire). The Japanese did so in short order. Indians addressed the Continental assemblies, and though they were not integrated, quite, they were not segregated either. But this first period of co-existence ended, as best i can tell, in the years of and following the French and Indian war. In the war, some Indians supported the French and some the British, and each side looked after their Indians. After peace was established, however, English leaders like Lord Jeffery Amherst set up to wipe out the Indians of both sides, “this execrable race,” with blankets infected with smallpox, and good old-fashioned cruelty. His activities are memorialized, on the cafeteria china used at Amherst Colleges till the 1960s.

Cup from the cafeteria of Amherst College shows Lord Jeff pursuing the Indians.

Cup from the cafeteria of Amherst College, used till the 1960s, shows Lord Jeffery Amherst pursuing a band of Indians. Purple and white are the Amherst colors. 

My thought of why he did it, and why he succeeded, is that the Indians had outlived their usefulness. The ones on the French side had been enemies, and might be again. The ones on his, English side were annoying and might turn in the next conflict. Besides, Lord Jeffery and his ilk had idle military power. Removing the Indians was something they could do. The army at peace could otherwise get destructive, or turn on him (I’m speculating here on motives).

This pattern appeared again in the Revolutionary war and in the War of 1812. During each war, Indians were befriended by both sides, and recruited. Indians fought important battles in each war, now mostly forgotten; the defense of Canada was largely by Indians. After each war, these Indians were largely betrayed. In the War of 1812, the Shawnee, Potawatomi, Ojibwa, and Creek mostly sided with the British, led by the fierce Shawnee general, Tecumseh. The Muscogee, Creek, Seminole, Choctaw, Cherokee, and Chickasaw, mostly sided with the US. Iroquois fought on both sides. In the years following the wars, these and these were sent west of the Mississippi. Those who had been allies with the US were paid for their land, those that sided with the British were not. A good price, but it was a forced sale none-the-less. I will speculate that they were exiled because they retained a government structure independent of the US, making them a threat. Also (I speculate) the military, Generals Harrison, Jackson, etc., had nothing better to do with an army that might have mutinied otherwise. By 1846, there was no serious future for the American Indian east of the Mississippi, and besides, there was an external enemy to fight — The Mexicans. My speculation: the Indians were destroyed by “the era of good feelings” that follows war.

In the case of Spain, I note that the Inquisition and Jewish expulsion followed suddenly after 300 years of science, art, literature, and coöperation. I also note that the Alhambra decrees (March 1492) followed almost immediately after the defeat the last major Moslem-held citadel, Granada in December, 1491, and the peace treaty of Granada (January 2, 1492). The Alhambra decrees of March 31, 1492 mandated that all Jews must convert or leave Spain, and gave free-reign to the Inquisition to punish heresy. At the time, the financier of the Spanish crown was a Jew, Don Isaac Abarbanel. And some years earlier another Jew, Shmuel HaNagged hand been vizier (2nd) to the king. My theory of the cause for the sudden switch is that it was not a sudden surge in religion, as some have suggested, but rather that the king and queen no longer needed an army or Jewish or Moslem allies, but they still had an army that might turn against them if not otherwise occupied.

In the interwar, peace years, Stalin removed 3 of the 5 top generals, 13 of 15 below them; 8 of 9 admirals, 50 of 57 army corps commanders, 154 out of 186 division commanders, 16 of 16 army commissars, and 25 of 28 army corps commissars.

In the interwar, peace years, Stalin removed 3 of the 5 top generals, 13 of 15 below them; 8 of 9 admirals, 50 of 57 army corps commanders, 154 out of 186 division commanders, 16 of 16 army commissars, and 25 of 28 army corps commissars. Peace is hell.

I’m reminded that peace is the background to intrigue in at least six of Shakespeare’s historical plays: Macbeth, Hamlet, Richard III, Lear, Julius Caesar, and Othello. Richard III explains his behavior as follows (Act I, Scene 1):  “Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, have no delight to pass away the time, unless to spy my shadow in the sun and descant on mine own deformity.”

A few other examples: After WWI, most of Europe removed their bearded aristocracy, and Stalin used the peacetime to remove much of the communist leadership including many of his generals and former friends – this was especially so after signing a peace treaty with Germany. And, in the US after WWII, we entered a period of communist witch hunts — a mini Inquisition directed at the writers and artists who provided Allied propaganda during the war. Even a general good, like peace can leave casualties.

Robert Buxbaum, July 7, 2017. I like to speculate on the why of history, and like to imagine my speculations are partially true, at least.

Why did Hamilton wear his glasses at the duel?

The musical play “Hamilton” ends with his duel with Burr. A song leading up to it, the world was wide enough tells the audience that Hamilton “wore his glasses” at the duel, and that he “methodically fiddled with the trigger.” It doesn’t say why, but tries to imply a sort of death-wish where Hamilton “threw away his shot” (fired into the air) because he didn’t want to kill his first friend, or because he thought of his son, who died near the spot. The theory is supported by popular myth, though the details of the events are, by necessity, muddy. All the witnesses testified that they looked away before the shooting started –customary in duels at the time.

There are some problems I find with this theory, and I’d like to present another: that Hamilton was so eager to kill Burr that he over-stacked the deck in his favor. The witnesses noted that Hamilton performed some provocative actions that seem out of character for someone who wants to commit suicide: “As they were taking their places, he (Hamilton) asked that the proceedings stop, adjusted his spectacles, and slowly, repeatedly, sighted along his pistol to test his aim”[1]. This seems like a taunt, if anything. As I reading the letters too, I find Hamilton taunting Burr to duel. He could have bowed out in many ways, as Washington always had, or been neutral. Why taunt? Why wear glasses and fiddle with the trigger? Why test your aim and then throw away your shot?

The choice of guns is important too, along with where the shot actually went. First the shot: While Hamilton’s second originally thought Hamilton had shot in the air, when the seconds went back the next day they found the shot in a cedar limb, “at an elevation of about twelve feet and a half, perpendicularly from the ground, between thirteen and fourteen feet from the mark on which General Hamilton stood, and about four feet wide of the direct line between him and Col. Burr, on the right side”.[2] The men stood 10 paces apart (16-18 feet), so apparently the shot hit about 6 feet above Burr’s head on a line reasonably towards him. That’s not quite shooting in the air.

The pair of Wogdon dueling pistols used in the Hamilton - Burr duel.

The Wogdon pistols used in the Hamilton – Burr duel. Currently the property of the JP Morgan Chase Manhattan Bank, in 1976 they were found to have a hidden hair trigger, something Hamilton knew, but Burr would not have known.

The choice of pistols is also suggestive. The pistols were the property of John Church, a brother-in-law to Hamilton, and a business partner of both men. Church had fought a duel with Burr some years before and, using Burr’s pistols, shot a button off Burr’s coat. Burr missed completely. Church then bought these new pistols in London — Wogdon pistols, with an extra-large bore and sights. Sights were not considered “sporting” for duels, and not ordinarily allowed. With sights on the pistols, one could not miss if one aimed. As for the bigger bore, this too was unusual. If you hit, you killed; most gentlemen preferred a less-deadly duel. Hamilton chose to use these pistols even though he owned two, “legal” pistols (smaller bore, no sight). As the challenged party, it was his right. Still, why not choose your own, if not to make use of the sight and the large-bore. And, according to his second, he seems to have practiced with the pistols beforehand [4].

Analysis of the guns, done in the late 1970s [3] turned up another illegal feature. While they appear to be normal dueling pistols, these guns have a hidden feature. If you move the trigger a fraction of an inch forward it sets a hidden, hair-trigger. It’s a hidden feature that Hamilton knew about [3] but Burr almost certainly did not. If Hamilton surreptitiously set the hair-trigger, it would give him a tremendous advantage. He would be able to shoot more quickly and more accurately, with a much lighter squeeze on the trigger. The sights ensured it would be a kill. Burr’s gun, unset, would have required the normal, heavy, 10-15 pound pull. His shot would have been slower and less accurate. As it was, it seems Burr fired second.

Ten paces is not very far apart. People missed because of the 10-20 lb pull and lack of sights made it hard to hit. Besides, many people who were hit survived.

Ten paces is not very far apart. People missed because of the 10-20 lb pull and the lack of sights made it hard to hit anyone. Besides, with a small bore, you didn’t kill.

There are a couple of problems with using hair-trigger pistols, though. They can go off prematurely, even if you know the trigger’s been set [4], and it’s worse if you are not quite sure you’ve set the trigger. The Wogdon guns intentionally made it hard to tell if you have set the trigger or not, and made it impossible to unset the trigger without firing. I suspect that Hamilton cleaned his glasses, fiddled with the trigger, and sighted his aim because he was unsure whether he’d set the hair-trigger. My theory is he came to the wrong conclusion. According to the seconds, Burr’s shot was almost simultaneous, but his apparently achieved a lucky/ un-lucky hit. Burr killed his rival, but also killed his own political career, the unhappy end to a beautiful animosity, discussed in the play, and discussed by me from a different angle. [5]

References:

1. Testimony at trial, Centinel of Freedom, November 24, 1807, cited in Winfield, 1874, p. 220.

2.  Nathanial Pendelton’s Amended testimony of Nathaniel Pendleton and William P. Ness’s Statement of July 11, 1804. Amended after the pair revisited the site and found the bullet.

3. “Pistols shed light on famed duel”, Merrill Lindsay, Smithsonian Magazine. 1976.

4. ibid. Hamilton told his second not to set the hair-trigger, and then seems to have set his own. Linsay’s theory is that Hamilton knew he’d set the trigger, but squeezed it too early.

5. Since the witnesses looked away, you might think of another explanation: that Burr fired first and Hamilton’s gun then went off in death throw, in the general direction of Burr. A couple of problems with this theory: for the gun to go off like that, Hamilton would have had to set the hair-trigger. The ordinary 10-15 lb trigger would require a determined squeeze. Also, for the bullet to hit the tree like that, Hamilton would have had to raise his gun past Burr, though not to the side or down as one might if he wished to throw away his shot. And Burr would have to have set the trigger himself to shoot so fast and so well. Randall’s book, “Alexander Hamilton, a life”, claims he did, p. 424, but looking at this video of the hair-trigger mechanism, I find the mechanism is too cleverly hidden for Burr to have noticed. It escaped detection for 170 years. Finally, for Burr to shoot to kill without provocation, would require that he murder in cold blood, and Burr shows no evidence of that. Besides, Burr would have had to worry that the witnesses might turn around and see his dastardly deed. As it was, even with Hamilton’s gun going off, Burr’s reputation was ruined. I reject this theory, and assert as others have: “Hamilton did fire his weapon intentionally, and he fired first.”

Robert E. Buxbaum, May 10, 2017. You may like these other songs from Hamilton, “your obedient servant,” and “the ten duel commandments.” And you may like this essay about Burr, Tammany Hall and the Manhattan bank.

May 1, St. Tammany day

May 1 is St. Tammany day, a day to rejoice in the achievements of Tammany Hall, and of St Tammany, the guardian of crooked politicians everywhere. The Sons of St. Tammany started in 1773 as a charitable club of notable revolutionary-era individuals including Benjamin Franklin, John Hancock, and John Dickenson, but evolved into perhaps the most corrupt, and American, of political organizations. The picture of a US politician – the cartoon version at least — is the Tammany Democrat: a loud, drunken, womanizer, willing to do or promise whatever the people seem to want at the moment. Tammany and its bosses helped form this image. They helped new immigrants, but did so by creating needless government jobs, by filling them often with incompetent loyalists, and by overcharging on government contracts. Today, these Tammany ways rule in every major American city; the other clubs of the day are gone or influence-less.

John Hancock leads a meeting of the St. Tammany (Columbian) society. Note the "Appeal to Heaven flag and the Indian, real or imagined. Indians participated in several, early St. Tammany meetings.

John Hancock leads a meeting of the St. Tammany society. Note the “Appeal to Heaven” flag. While Indians participated in some, early meetings, the one here is, I suspect, a ghost: St. Tammany.

In revolutionary-era America, the Sons of St. Tammany was just one of many social-charitable clubs (Americans like to form clubs), in many ways it was similar to the Masons and the Cincinnati, but those clubs were international and elitist. The sons of Tammany was purely American, and anti-elitist. It was open to anyone born on this side of the Atlantic, and had Indian customs. The Cincinnati society, for comparison, started with members who were as notable (Alexander Hamilton, George Washington, Marie, Marquis de Lafayette, Henry Knox, etc.) but was originally open only to high officers of the regular army, including foreigners like Lafayette, but not ordinary soldiers, minutemen (militia), or the general public. The symbols of the Tammanies were American: the liberty-cap and the “Appeal to Heaven” flag, now a popular symbol of the Tea Party; the leader was called by an Indian name: Sachem. By contrast, the Cincinnati society symbol was the Imperial Eagle (Washington’s was gold with diamonds), and the leader was called “general”. The Tammany society began admitting immigrants in 1810 or so, while the Cincinnati society remains closed to this day, except to descendants of Revolutionary officers — an aristocratic affectation in the eyes of some.

It was Aaron Burr who first saw the opportunity to use the Tammany organization as a for-profit, political machine. In the years 1795-9, New York was suffering from yellow fever and a variety of other diseases that were taken to be caused by a lack of clean water. Burr proposed, with Tammany support, the creation of a corporation to build a new water system to bring fresh, clean water from the Bronx River to lower Manhattan via iron pipes. The Manhattan company was duly chartered, with directors who were primarily Tammany men, Republican-Democrats, and not Federalists. Federalists (Hamilton, primarily) controlled the only NY banks at the time and controlled the directorate of every chartered company in the city. The Manhattan company requested a $2,000,000 perpetual charter, twice as big as the charter of Hamilton’s Bank of New York, and a monopoly on water distribution. These were reasonable requests given the task, but unusual in the lack of Federalist or governmental oversight. But the Manhattan company was a water company, and water was needed. But Burr’s intent, all along, it seems was to build a bank, not a water company. After the charter was approved, but before signing, he amended it to allow any excess funds to be used for any legal purpose. 

In this cartoon by Dr. Seuss, The Tammany Tiger says, "Today is the Big Day Folks. Vote Early and Often."

In this cartoon by Dr. Seuss, The Tammany Tiger says, “Today is the Big Day Folks. Vote Early and Often.”

Money was raised, but only $100,000 used for the water system. The remaining 95% of the charter funds, $1,900,000, went to found “The Bank of The Manhattan company” — later to be known as “The Chase Manhattan Bank” or “The Manhattan Bank of Cholera.” Instead of building the reservoir in upper Manhattan and filling it with clean water as originally proposed, Burr’s Tammany trustees voted to dig wells in lower Manhattan, and placed its reservoir in lower Manhattan too, near Chamber’s St,  next to a cemetery where Cholera victims were buried. New York suffered with Cholera, Typhoid, and leaky, wooden pipes until 1842 when Peter Cooper brought clean water to lower Manhattan from the Groton River via iron pipes. To this day, crooked water contracts are a staple of Tammany politics

The Bank of the Manhattan company opened at 40 Wall St on September 1, 1799, a mere four months after the water company’s incorporation. Hamilton was furious. The company continues today as The JP Morgan, Chase Manhattan Bank, one of the largest banking institutions in the world. Burr used the money and power of his company to reward supporters and to run for vice president with Thomas Jefferson’s tacit support. Except for his Tammany candidacy, John Adams would have won New York and a second term as president. Burr’s career pretty-well died after the Hamilton duel, but Tammany did well without him. By 1812, the Society built its first Tammany Hall, officially called the Wigwam, a $55,000, five-story building with a meeting hall for 2000. New York Democratic politics would center on Tammany Hall for the next century at least.

Following disappointment with John Quincy Adams, “the bitter branch of the bitter tree,” Tammy leaders went national. They recruited Andrew Jackson, a war hero and early recruit of Burr’s. They’d support Jackson if he’d hand over spoils, control of government jobs. He agreed and, as president, fired perfectly good, long-standing government employees He replaced them with Democratic loyalists. When Jackson stepped down in 1833, Tammany elected an equally corrupt New Yorker, Martin van Buren. Though there were periodic Whig and Republican reforms, Tammany learned they could wait those out. They always re-emerged like mushrooms after a rain.

Boss Tweed and other Tammany leaders: who stole the money?

Boss Tweed and other Tammany leaders in a cartoon by Nast, Tammany Ring. “Who stole the money? He did.”  

A key vote-getter in the Tammany system is to provide Thanksgiving dinners and other charitable giveaways for the poor, as well as promises of jobs. By the late 1800s, William J. Brian added promises of soft money and wealth redistribution, cornerstones of the Democratic platform to this day. Tammany also tends to be for low tariffs as opposed to the high tariff ideas of Hamilton and many Whigs and 19th century Republicans. A case can be made for either view.

Tammany helped New York immigrants, particularly the Irish to get citizenship and avoid legal troubles in return for votes and occasional muscle. In other cities, Democratic clubs were less open to Catholics, reflecting the views of the common voter in each state. In the North they were pro-union, in the South anti, electing Klu Kluxers like George Wallace, Sam Ervin, and Robert Byrd. This lead to a famous split in the Democratic party about the 1968 convention. Famous Tammany leaders include William M. “Boss” Tweed, “Big” Tim Sullivan, and “Gentleman” Jimmy Walker. Sullivan famously authored the first anti-gun law, the Sullivan act; it was designed to protect his thugs against private citizens shooting them. It didn’t always work.

Edwin Edwards, Democratic Governor of Louisiana. 1972-1996. Who would not trust this man?

Hon. (?) Edwin Edwards, Governor of Louisiana. 1972-1996. Tammany lives

If you want to see Tammany politics in action, visit almost any large US city, or read its newspaper. In Chicago, the dead vote, and 4 of the last 6 governors have gone to jail. Mayor Daily famously told Kennedy that 90 percent of the registered voters of Cook County would vote for him. They did (sort of); because of this, JFK won Illinois and the presidency. In New York, voters discovered only in the 1960s that Tammany’s leader, Carmine DeSapio had been working for 30 years with known gangland murderer, Charles “Lucky” Luciano. In Detroit, where I live and corruption in the water department is legendary. Race-based job handouts, unemployment is high along with high minimum (living) wages. We’re now in the process of a $70,000,000 project to replace 100 feet of sewer pipe, and we’re building a $140 million, 3.3 mile trolley. Tammany loves all public works.

Then there is Louisiana, home to St Tammany parish. Louisiana Democrats like Huey Long and Edwin Edwards (shown at left) are unusual in that they’re proud to say that their corrupt methods are corrupt. Edwards has had two long runs as governor despite several convictions for doing illegal things he admits to doing. When Edwards was asked why he did favors for his friends. He responded: “Who should I do them for? My enemies?” Or, to quote one of Edwin Edwards campaign ads. Vote Edwin EdwardsPeople seem to love it, or did until the levy broke. There is a particularly American grandeur to all this. As Will Rodgers said, “America has the best politicians money can buy.” Today is the day to be proud of that uniquely American tradition. You too can grow up to buy a president.

Robert Buxbaum, April 28, 2017. I ran for water commissioner, and have written about sewage treatment, flood avoidance, and fluoride, as well as the plusses and minuses of trade unionization, and the difference between Republicans and Conservatives.

Global warming and the president’s Resolute desk

In the summer of 2016, the Crystal Serenity, a cruse ship passed through the Northwest passage, going from the Pacific to the Atlantic above the Canadian arctic circle. It was a first for a cruise ship, but the first time any modern ship made the passage, it was 162 years ago, and the ship was wooden and unmanned. It was the British Resolute; wood from that ship was used to make the President’s main desk — one used by the last four presidents. And thereby hangs a tale of good global warming, IMHO.

President Trump meets with college presidents at the Resolute desk. Originally the front had portraits of Queen Victoria and President Hayes. Those are gone; the eagle on the front is an addition, as is the bottom stand.

President Trump meets with college presidents at the Resolute desk. Originally the front had portraits of Queen Victoria and President Hayes. Those are gone; the eagle on the front is an addition, as is the bottom stand. The desk is now 2″ taller than originally. 

The world today is warmer than it was in 1900. But, what is not generally appreciated is that, in 1900 the world was warmer than In 1800; that in 1800 it was warmer than in 1700; and that, in 1640, it was so cold there were regular fairs on the frozen river Themes. By the 1840s there were enough reports of global warming that folks in England thought the northwest passage might have opened at last. In 1845 the British sent two ships, the Erebus and the Terror into the Canadian Arctic looking for the passage. They didn’t make it. They and their crews were lost and not seen again until 2014. In hopes of finding them though, the US and Britain sent other ships, including the Resolute under the command of captain Edward Belcher.

The Resolute was specially made to withstand the pressure of ice. Like the previous ships, and the modern cruise ship, it entered the passage from the Pacific during the peak summer thaw. Like the ships before, the Resolute and a partner ship got stuck in the ice — ice that was not quite stationary, but nearly so, The ships continued to move with the ice, but at an unbearably slow pace. After a year and a half captain Belcher had moved a few hundred miles, but had had enough. He abandoned his ships and walked out of Canada to face courts martial in England (English captains were supposed to “go down with the ship”). Belcher was acquitted; the ice continued to move, and the ships moved with it. One ship sank, but the Resolute, apparently unscathed, passed through to the Atlantic. Without captain or crew, she was the first ship in recorded history to make the passage, something that would not happen again till the Nautilus nuclear submarine did it under the ice, 100 years later.

 

The ghost ship Resolute was found in September 1855, five years after she set sail, by captain Buddington of the American whaler, George Henry. She was floating, unmanned, 1200 miles from where captain Belcher had left her. And according to the law of the sea, she belonged to Buddington and his crew to use as they saw fit. But the US was inching to war with Britain, an outgrowth of the Crimean war and seized Russo-American property. Franklin Pierce thought it would help to return the ship as a sign of friendship — to break the ice, as it were. A proposal for funds was presented to congress and passed; the ship was bought, towed to the Brooklyn Navy yard for refitting, and returned to Britain as a gift. The gift may have worked: war with Britain was averted, and the seized property was returned. Then again, Britain went on to supply the confederacy early in the Civil War. None-the-less, it was a notable ship, and a notable gift, and when it was broken up, Parliament decided to have two “friendship desks” made of its timbers. One desk was presented to President Hayes, the other to Queen Victoria. One of these desks sits the British Naval museum at Portsmouth; its American cousin serves Donald Trump in the Oval office as it has served many president before him. It has been used by Coolidge, Kennedy, Carter, Reagan, Clinton, Bush II, and Obama before him — a reminder that global warming can be good, in both senses. If you are interested in the other presidents’ desks, I wrote a review of them here.

As for the reason for the global warming of the mid 1800s, It seems that climate is chaotic. ON a related note, I have proposed that we make a more-permanent northwest passage by cutting thorough one of the islands in northern Canada. If you want to travel the Northwest passage in 2017, there is another cruise scheduled, but passage is sold out.

Robert Buxbaum, March 16, 2017.

A thought on what Cornwallis should have done 240 years ago

Build a wall.

As we’ve seen, Cornwallis’s actual plan January 1777 failed badly. Clearly, it was a bad mistake attacking Washington at Trenton. I’d asked what he should have done, and note that the British high command answer was that Cornwallis should have withdrawn from Trenton and hoped that Washington would have entered and allowed Cornwallis to trap him in the city. I don’t like this solution as it depends on Washington doing something very stupid.

After thinking a bit, I think Cornwallis should have left a detail of British soldiers, perhaps 2000-3000 and should have built a berm wall (an earthen wall) about the town. Cornwallis should have distributed guns to the Tory inhabitants, or encouraged the inhabitants to form a militia. Washington could still have shot in, but with far less precision than before. And he would now find he’s killing Americans. A likely result would have been the Trentonians shooting back at Washington’s men from Trenton’s rooftops. The combination of civil war and weather would have defeated Washington, or at least drawn him off. This is how we dealt with hostile Indians in the 1800s, and I suspect it could have worked here too.

Robert Buxbaum, December 27, 2016. Here, by the way is some odd Christmas music, and two odd Chanukkah songs. The strong defeated by the weak, the many by the few. In those days, at this time of year.