Jefferson's Vision for America

It’s kind of interesting when you look at the “business” of the United States today, in our own time, and you see the President and his Congress making conference calls and luncheons and “bizz” dates with the leaders of other countries in the world. You understand that manufacturing has made a radical shift, and you see that parts and components and jobs and livelihoods are being moved away from the base of what was once a solid foundation here in America. Now – I’m just going to give you a peek at our third president, Mr. Thomas Jefferson, and I’ll keep it short and also opinion free. You see, if you knew how far to the right I’ve veered you might not ever talk to me again. (And we don’t want that!)

So, back when the Constitution was still glistening with a fresh morning’s dew, you had the third president of the United States, Thomas Jefferson, ready to take the helm. Politics following the farewell of George Washington are similar to what we have today – you had a very real party rift and there was squabbling on all sides in Congress. In 1800 it was the “Republicans” and “Federalists” who were fighting about things like the French Revolution, a National Bank, and the upcoming presidency. Party-lines were split, and if you lined these guys up in a firing squad, they would have argued over who pulled the trigger first.

The “Republicans” believed that the “Federalist” John Adams was a “monarchist” (king) and wanted to expand the powers of the federal government to the point where it might rob citizens of their freedoms.
Not unlike a current political figure, hmm? (Oops. Sorry)

The “Federalists,” meanwhile, believed that the “Republican” Thomas Jefferson was a dangerous radical who acted impulsively. Not unlike a current political figure, hmm? (Oops. Sorry. I did it again)

I will just keep to the facts. Even if the sticky politics of the 1800 election are wildly interesting. Even if you had men like John Adams, Alexander Hamilton, and Aaron Burr shooting (!!) at each other.

Jefferson, the “man of the people” had strong support from the farmers in the Southern and Western regions. (During this time, Ohio-Kentucky represented the “West” in America). John Adams, meanwhile, had strong support from the manufacturers and merchants in the northeast. Both had very different agendas for the country, but a split in the Federalist pary doomed their chances. Jefferson would actually end up in a TIE for the presidency with Aaron Burr (you remember him, he shot Hamilton) and for DAYS voting and re-voting and then more re-voting would go on. Militas in Pennsylvania and Virginia were organized, too. But after the 36TH ballot, Jefferson emerged as the President. And Burr went off to become a fugitive. And John Adams lamented that he hadn’t yet finished painting his bedroom walls.

Thomas Jefferson’s “Vision For America” is interesting because it is so different from what we see our country doing today. The new president feared the “City” and it’s accumulated wealth and population. He was also fearful of the creation of a National Bank – get this, he worried about putting too much power in the hands of the government !! You see, his plan was much simpler. Jefferson envisioned America as a nation of FARMERS, where free men could manage their own plots of land, produce their own food, and count on themselves (and not the government) to take care of their fortunes. No universal health care here, nope. And no shipping parts or jobs to other countries, either. Jefferson believed that an American nation of farmers might supply its own needs and also act as a breadbasket for Europe. France was still war-torn and England was experiencing terrible crop failures. Jefferson also supported an open, free-market economy where Americans would send food to Europe (and eventually other countries) and receive, in exchange, clothing and manufactured items.

The plan seems simple enough, right? Jefferson took the responsibility of making America SOLVENT, which means free from its debts and debtors. His administration was actually able to make budget cuts (!!) and by 1802 a working Congress (!!) was starting to repeal internal taxes. A lot of responsibility was given back to state (!!) governments. And through 1812 his efforts appeared to be working. Remember the Louisiana Purchase? Jefferson wasn’t running a critical national debt when he picked up that piece of territory. Nope. Huh uh. Indeed, I might say Jefferson’s vision was a success… but I wouldn’t want to overlook the very real problems with the American Indians, or the terrible War of 1812. Those are important factors in Jefferson’s America, also. And taken with the possible withdrawal of New York and Massachussets from the Union (“Essex Junto”) they represent stress fractures that may have prevented his “Farmer’s America” from happening.

We have the benefit of hindsight when we look to the past, and while Jefferson’s plan may seem overly simple, or a product of the time, it still gives me a moment to pause and consider. I see the state of (ahem) business in our own time, in our much different America, and I wonder how it might be if things were less complex. An Ohio that produces only corn and soybean? Wow. I’d be out on my own farm right now. And not worrying about how I’m going to get this shipment of printer parts into South America or China.

Zeno's Paradoxes

Time for a bit of mind-bending today, care of my old friend Zeno (491bc – 430bc), a philosopher who lived just at the edges of the “Classical Age” in Greece. He was known as a “Pre-Socratic” thinker, even though he was a contemporary with Socrates (you know, the dude from Bill & Ted wearing the white Toga). The divide between “Pre-Socratic” and “Socratic” philosophy has more to do with the methods and teachings of men like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle than with the actual structure of the philosophy. We usually take it to mean the Pre-Socratics came BEFORE Socrates, and Zeno was probably the last in a line of men who emphasized abstract, speculative thinking. This sort of philosophy marks a turning point from “divine” explanations of the universe and looks more toward the primacy of human reason – meaning that man should be able to figure out things, based on nature and science, for himself. Socratic philosophers were influenced by Socrates; Zeno was influenced by men like Thales, Anaximander, Anaximenes, Heraclitus, Pythagoras, and Paramenides.

To make it short – Zeno was following in a line of philosophers who were searching for the “primary substance” (or ARCHE) from which all nature was created. Thales believed the Arche was water, Anaximenes believed it was air, Heraclitus believed it was fire. Anaximander proposed that the Arche was unlimited… the primary substance was undefined. Paramenides sort of went off the deep end and said that there was no real Arche, or primary substance… the world of the senses and that of reality could not be defined. (Plato would later pick this up in his “Theory of Forms” where you’ve got a chalkboard that is there but really isn’t)

Really I should explain more of this… but it’s complicated. Let’s get to Zeno.
His paradoxes should be enough for today.

Zeno’s first paradox involves the flight of an arrow. Like Paramenides before him, Zeno was actually experimenting with the concept of “reality” and what could be defined and what could not. Here you’ve got Zeno arguing that there was no such thing as “MOTION” and he claimed that if you shot an arrow from a bow… the arrow would actually not move at all. You see, for the arrow to *move* it has to move somewhere where it is not. If you are shooting an arrow at a tree you would expect the arrow to hit the tree. Zeno is making a paradox, saying that the arrow cannot be anywhere other than where it *is*… and as the arrow cannot move to anywhere other than where it *is* it can never move to a place where it is *not*. You bend this around in your mind and you start to see how Zeno argues against the real existence of anything. (Aristotle had fun with this one. He very much enjoyed Zeno’s games)

The second paradox involves the step – Zeno says for us to imagine we’re moving toward a stream. We’re going to walk toward a cool, clear, glistening stream of water over there in the distance. Right? Well, before you can get to the stream you must first travel *half* the distance to the stream. And to travel *half* the distance you must first travel a *quarter* of the distance, which is a *half-half* of the distance. As you begin to move you are stymied because you cannot really move at all… you are taking an infinite number of smaller steps to a point where it becomes impossible to move. Your motion is only illusory.

I can still remember sitting in a mid-level Philosophy class, way back when, and I had to put my pen down, fold up my notebook, and just sit back in wonder at this. When you’re a student you have to love that, right? It helps that the professor was patient and he explained it this way – imagine you are walking from one side of a room to the other. You take a step in order to get there. Now you imagine taking half that step, then a half of that half-step… and so on. Or you can imagine a solid black line. You are cutting half of that line, then a half-half, and so on. This is sometimes called Zeno’s “backward” argument. It is also known as “infinite regression.”

Zeno also used a racing paradox, and I’ve sometimes heard of this with the turtle and the hare, but it was originally used with the mythical figure Achilles and a tortoise. In his “forward argument” Zeno says that you can imagine a race track that is oval-shaped. You’ve got Achilles, our legendary fast-as-the-wind runner, and the tortoise. Now Achilles will run a lap and eventually pass the tortoise, who is moving very slowly. But the tortoise has travelled at least *some* distance, so Achilles must travel that *some* distance to gain on the tortoise… and as the tortoise keeps moving the very *real* space in which he travels is something that Achilles can never reach. I’m not real keen on this one, because Achilles can continue to run laps around the tortoise, but Zeno’s argument is as always – there is no such thing as “motion” and there is, perhaps, no “reality” in which we might measure it.

Now I am entirely other-brained when it comes to Science and Math. I do enjoy philosophy and speculative reasoning, and I did have to take a couple of classes on inductive and deductive logic in college. What is meaningful for History is the fact that these philosophies were taking shape at a time when Greece was moving past the Persian invasions, the Pelopponesian Wars, into a more modern society where we can first see the “Polis” and the beginning of the “Classical Age.” Socrates tends to get a lot of credit because he was so public (and maybe because of Bill & Ted and their Excellent Adventure)… but the Pre-Socratics came first, and they were the first to look beyond a mystical or divine explanation for things. They were some of the first thinkers to move outside of the box. And it is interesting that Plato, Socrates’ own student, would take up Zeno’s thoughts in his later works. Plato (and his student, Aristotle) are what we consider to be the founders of modern thought in the Western World.

Indeed, Zeno’s paradoxes on motion and reality are still being worked out by Physics today. And he does still bend the mind, doesn’t he? I mean, I’d like to go to Panera for some lunch right now. I’m just not sure I’d make it there.

Tragic Richard II

Okay, so I know Shakespeare wrote about this guy, and I know he also wrote about Richard’s successors, Henry IV and Henry V – but I’m going to bypass him (forgive me) with my own quick rendering of this History. It is a sad tale about a boy who becomes king, and it is a tragedy of sorrow and betrayal by a young man’s male lovers. It is a tale about family, and the betrayal of a cousin who had Richard put in chains and later starved to death in the Tower of London. It is the story of murder, and how Richard outlived, perhaps, those who had sought to take his life.

I’ll try to keep it short, how’s that?

In 1367 Richard was born; he was the son of Edward, “The Black Prince,” who was himself the oldest surviving son of King Edward III. Without getting too much into the upcoming *Wars of the Roses* (the lineage there is very hard to follow) I will say that Edward III had five sons – they were Edward (The Black Prince), and then Lionel, John of Gaunt, Edmund, and Thomas. Desendants from four of these five would later make claims to the throne, and England would be thrown into a very complicated civil war.

For this story, we can concentrate on Richard II and his cousin, Henry of Bolingbroke who was the son of John of Gaunt.

In 1377 Richard’s father died, and young Richard assumed England’s throne. He was first in line for the job, but he was only ten, and so he was surrounded by a group of “advisors” who tried to rule England, themselves. This didn’t sit well with many of the nobles in England, and neither did Richard’s very flamboyant and gaudy escapades with his two male lovers. A marriage to Anne of Bohemia proved (ahem) fruitless, and after her death Richard II fell under the whim of his first lover, Richard. I suppose we could call them “Dick” and “Dick,” but I’m not sure that would be appropriate. In any case, both Dicks (sorry, I mean both Richards) lived a life of luxury and spent a king’s wealth with lavish abandon. The king was not popular with the people, he was not respected at all, and the nobility tended to snicker at him behind his back.

The proposed “marriage” to six year old Isabella of France (Richard II was nearly 30) signaled the King’s downfall – he was not unaware of his cousin Henry’s desires for the throne, but he seemed powerless to stop him. By 1397 Richard II suffered the death of his male lover (can you believe it? he was mauled by a wild pig?) and he slid into massive bouts of depression and madness. Oh, yeah. Madness. Poor Richard was a mess. He gathered people around the throne and then sat in silence for hours at a time. He dismissed Parliament. He tried to kill his uncle Thomas. And then he exiled anyone who tried to reason with him.

Hmm, yeah. That doesn’t look good when you’ve got Henry amassing a small army outside of Ireland, now does it? And when Richard took another lover, this time a courtier named “Rutland,” he would find himself fatefully betrayed. Rutland would switch sides in the upcoming battle between Richard and Henry, and this desertion, along with the troops Rutland (the courtier) had under his thumb, would prove disastrous to the King. (Why would you give Rutland any trooops at all? Seriously? Think about it, man.)

As Henry was moving south toward London, Richard was moving north to meet him. Along the way Henry was gaining a swell of support while Richard was seeing even his closest friends abandon him. Richard was not popular, he was in some ways despised, and his policies and peculiar personality worked to alienate his counrty at large. In fact, most people inside London would welcome Henry as he swept into the city. Richard, in the meanwhile, had been forced to disguise himself in monk’s clothing and he tried to hide himself inside the walls of an abandoned castle during. He hunkered down during the middle of a summer storm. Once found, he tried to escape by throwing himself from a stone wall – unfortunately the fall did not kill him. I almost feel bad for him. Poor Richard. It would have been an easier death.

Back in London – oh, wait. I forgot. Henry’s army captured Richard and the King was marched, in chains, back to his throne. Once there, Henry had his cousin imprisoned in the Tower of London. Now, during this time the “Tower” was actually more of a fortification and not yet a dark dungeon of imagination and for a time Richard was treated fairly well. Henry was making moves to become King (it is interesting that he tried to make “legal” his usurping of the throne) and it was in his interest to keep, for display, the humbled, weakling man who was Richard. I wonder if Rutland came to see him – but you know what? I think he did not.

I’ll interject my own opinion for a moment and say that I’m not particularly fond of Henry IV. (Apologies to the Bard) Henry was actually THIRD in line for the throne behind Richard II and then Edmund Mortimer. He took the throne from Richard (and later kept it from Edmund) and this set a very dangerous precedent that would later lead to English civil war. And you know what else? Henry IV had smelly feet. That is a fact.

It is a sure thing that Henry did not go to see his cousin. The two had actually been very close when they were youngsters. They were first cousins, after all. Regardless, Henry soon realized that it was a weakness to have Richard remain alive. Henry had all the support of England (well, most of it, anyway) and he was a strong, charismatic figure. Richard, meanwhile, was struggling with his own madness. And soon he would be struggling with hunger. At the moment Henry of Bolingbroke became Henry IV, Richard’s death note was signed. He was left to starve to death – and you can say that, and picture it, but just imagine how horrible a fate that really is – and was not seen in England again.

I say not seen in “England” because the tale gets dicey after Richard’s death. And that’s because many people did not really believe him to be dead. Richard II still had many supporters, and there were whispers that the “real” King had been spared, or had escaped, and such rumors persisted long after the coronation of the “less-real” King Henry IV. There were reported sightings of Richard II in Ireland and Scotland, and people went so far as to actually impersonate him in the hopes of restoring a fallen king to his throne. Richard II was more popular in death than he had ever been during his life. I'm telling you, he was like Jim Morrison, you know?

So there you have it, and I mean the SHORT version of it – the sad, tragic tale of a young boy placed on the throne way too early; the sad story of the death of one lover and the betrayal by another; the drama of a conflict for the throne and the betrayal by a King’s own kin; the terrible death by starvation; and the long-lived appearances of a dead man for years after his throne was taken. You like it? It is interesting, right? If you want more check out Shake’s version. He’s written a couple of plays, I think.

Russell Crowe and the Romans

I had a chance to watch the movie “Gladiator” this past weekend; I saw the movie in the cinema when it first came out in 2000, but having been snowed under, and resting comfortably in my flannel jammies, I settled in this past Saturday with the Hollywood epic on the little screen.

Of course you know I’m going to tell you the actual history swirling behind the events in the movie. There really was a Roman ruler named Marcus Aeurelius, and his son really was Commodus (and Commodus really was one of Rome’s most violent and terrifying figures). And there was also a gladiator slave who would kill Commodus… though, in history, the man named Narcissus replaces the movie’s Maximus, and instead of being stabbed to death, Narcissus would strangle the Roman Emperor.

Marcus Aurelius (121AD – 180AD) was the last of what were known as the “Five Good Emperors” of Rome. They included Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian (who attempted one of the first holocausts against the Jews), Antonius Pius, and finally Marcus Aurelius. Like the movie, Aurelius did campaign in Germania, and through the 160’s AD he was actively warring with the German tribes in Rome’s northernmost border regions. He didn’t have the wonderful Maximus to help him lead his troops (but my god, doesn’t Russell Crowe look good??) – and he would not lose his life to a son who sought to smother him with a pillow. That is actually attributed to Caligula, who smothered Tiberuis in 37AD. Marcus Aurelius, instead, would die from a great plague that swept through Rome in 180 AD. (I kind of like Caligula, too, but whew (!!)… Russell Crowe’s got a sword, now… check him out, he's really manuevering with it!)

Commodus (161AD – 192AD) would become Rome’s new ruler in 180AD, and like the movie, he was a young man possessed by very strange and bizarre behavior. I think the portrayal of Commodus by Joaquin Phoenix is dead-on, and next time you see the movie you might think of the historical figure and realize that you are seeing what was truly a disturbed and terrifying personality. Like the character in the movie, Commodus had an older sister who tried to poison him. Failing that, she attempted to hatch plots with the Senate to murder her brother. The two were never lovers (as was hinted in the movie) and it is perhaps because Commodus loved the gladiator-slave Narcissus… the man who would one day murder him.

Like the movie-Commodus, the historical-Commodus was heavy-handed and tended to be rabid toward the Senate. Many Roman Senators were threatened and executed during Commodus’ reign – and in the meanwhile, the Emperor worked to rouse the support of the people of Rome by giving them the spectacle of the gladiator games. He believed he was himself a “gladiator” and he meant to demonstrate it. The movie-Commodus complains about the people “loving him”… the historical-Commodus was tactful in giving them blood.
(Did you see Russell Crowe? My god, he looks very good in a leather skirt, doesn’t he??)

In the movie, Commodus was an avid fan of the games; the historical Commodus was much more savage. He took part in the battles, and it was a regular occurrence for the naked Emperor to slay unarmed men or wounded beasts in a display of his prowess. When the movie-Commodus steps out into the dust of the colosseum he is approaching the gladiator slave Maximus; in reality it was a slave named Narcissus who killed Commodus by strangling the Emperor in his bath. Narcissus was known to Commodus, and it is suggested there was a sexual relationship between them.
(That kills the mood for Russell Crowe and Maximus, doesn’t it?)
(No, no, it does not! Here is the Gladiator, and he is restoring Rome to a vision of glory… and my god, he looks so GOOD doing that, now doesn’t he?)

In the movie, you would believe (spoiler alert!) the death of Maximus did indeed signal a return to Senate power and a restoration of Rome. I mean, they carry his body away, there is sweeping music, there are rose petals, and poor Maximus is reunited with his family in the after-world. In reality, after the death of Commodus, Rome plunged into an era of chaos and instability. Septimus Severus replaced the fallen Emperor, and the “Severan Dynasty” had control of Rome from 186AD through 235AD. There was a transition of power from the Senate to an army-backed Emperor, and the Empire would be gravely weakened.

But that is all way, way after Gladiator, now isn’t it? The movie is over and I’ve spent the day flipping back through my history books and notes because that’s just the kind of flannel jammie Saturday person I am. And don’t you agree – Marcus Aurelius and Commodus, they were some interesting guys, now weren’t they? But I don’t think they hold a sword to Russell Crowe as Maximus… wow. I mean, he REALLY looks good, doesn’t he? Even if he exists only on my TV screen.

Apartment Living in Ancient Rome

When you consider Ancient Rome (as I’m sure you often do) it is a wondrous thing to see their system of architecture and bulding dating back to the age of the “Early Empire” from ca. 27 BC to 192 AD. I choose this time when talking about “apartment living” inside Rome because this was the era of perhaps the thickest concentration of people within the city, itself – and I think anyone who has lived in an apartment will appreciate the Roman take on urban dwellings.

In Rome, during the age of the Early Empire, you would have seen things like the the “arch” and the “vault” and the “basilicas” being used in architecture. Actually you would have seen this much earlier in Rome, but let’s stick with the Empire… knowledge of these structures allowed the Romans to construct massive works that would connect the people of the city with each other. The sheer workings of the “aquaducts” during this time was impressive – nearly fifty miles of clean water ran beneath the city of Rome and millions of gallons of water ran through the city every day. Amazing, too, were the public baths – these were the spas of the day, let me tell you, and hot, steaming water was coupled in the same square with cool, sparkling water for leisure and refreshment, and (ahem) bathing.

The temples during this time were astounding, too, and the Augustus’ “Pantheon” was gorgeous with its columns, the arch, and a towering dome that stretched into the sky. This was rebuilt many times due to the constant fires inside Rome. You also had the “Colosseum” (of course!) which was perhaps one of the greatest structures in the ancient world. This was the arena for the gladiators and it also served as a vast stage for things like battles, plays, and mass executions of war prisoners.

The apartments, then, were just as massive as these public constructs… if not as adequately built. Because of the sheer number of people crowding the city the apartment buildings tended to be built upward, with many floors, and they became tottering structures against the Roman skyline. Unlike today’s world, where you might aspire to live on an upper floor, in Rome you were facing the possibility of several hundred steps to reach your abode, and if fire broke out below (as it often did) you had little chance of escape. The bottom floors, too, had the only running water. Roman tenants were forced to carry water up long, fragile flights of stairs, and this meant little bathing and perhaps no real removal of waste. Indeed, the “dumpings” were often dumped out a window and left to collect on the streets below. No glass as yet covered the windows; instead, the Romans would use cloth or leather or even wooden shutters. This tended to close out natural light and locked in the smoke (and fire) from cooking… which was done on an open stove. An apartment might have a bed, and this is where people would sit, sleep, and eat. Chairs were more like stools, and blankets or pillows made up the rest of the furnishings. A family of four or five was usual for a small apartment room.

If you couldn’t be found at the baths or the colosseum (or working) you were usually found inside your apartment – it was not safe to walk the streets during the night, as they were not lit, and many Romans would retire to bed as soon as the sun went down. The massive city would come to a very quiet halt during the wee hours, and people would live by the dim fire of lamps inside their homes. They slept in the bed or on the wooden floor, and it was not unusual to have a small gathering of animals inside the apartment, either. So much for the TV, the Playstation, the gas range, the fridge, the laundry or the shower, right ??

The threat of fire was constant in Rome. In 64 AD perhaps the most famous fire engulfed the city; it is not true that Nero played the fiddle while Rome burned – in fact, he was responsible for organizing mass relief efforts with royal money as he ordered shelters and food and supplies for the Roman people. Rome burned uncontrollably for almost six days and merchant and living districts were razed to the ground.

It is interesting that a response to such danger was to simply build the apartment buildings higher and higher… I don’t think this is surprising, really, given the constant reconstruction of the Pantheon and other great buildings in the Empire. The Romans were expert builders, of course, and there were always more and more people eager to fill the apartments. Just like in modern times, yes? (SMILE)

A Gentleman's Duel

You see this guy on the $10 Bill and you might wonder (asI’m sure you do) just who he was and what made him tick and what happened in 1804 to cause him to become engaged in a late afternoon gunman’s duel that would cause his death… yes? Shot through the liver by a gun in the hands of Aaron Burr… right? You’re telling me you don’t have a lot of $10 bills these days? I understand. Believe me, I do. But let’s take a look at an interesting duel, anyway.

In 1800 the US of A was having a rather heated Election. History sometimes views this as a sort of minor “revolution” in American politics, and I think this is probably true. It was a time of division and splintering as Americans decided on what the country might become – Republicans appealed to the “farmers” in the South and West while the Federalists won over the “merchants” and “manufacturers” in the North. One group wanted the country to remain agricultural and supply Europe with food, the other wanted a broad industrial base. This is over-simplistic, but to see the broader background you have to see these two factions and understand that they were bitter, bitter opponents.

The Election of 1800 came down to Thomas Jefferson (Republican) and Aaron Burr (Federalist). The two men would tie for votes in the Electoral College and the election was thrown into the House of Represntatives. It would seem they decided (perhaps) on the lesser of two evils and support was given to Jefferson to become the president. It is interesting that Alexander Hamilton was a key figure in this process: he believed Jefferson to be a “gentleman” whereas Burr was a dangerous, uninhibited, and even vile opponent. Hamilton campaigned hard against him. And
Aaron Burr would not forget or forgive this… nope, not at all.

Burr was a schemer, that is certain. He was Jefferson’s vice-president (a practice of the time) but in 1804 was dropped from Jefferson’s second presidential ticket. I say Burr was a schemer only because I really don’t like him; you will see why in a moment. For now, Burr was trying to get elected governor of New York. This was an important state in the Northeast, particularly when this region (New England) was talking about actually seceding from the Union. (It’s interesting that this is a common theme in American History – people believed in their right to secede).

Anyway, Hamilton launched an impressive smear-campaign against the vile and dangerous Aaron Burr. It ended up costing Burr the governership. At a public dinner Hamilton went further and actually chastised the “uneducated” and “base” politician. He called him all sort of unpolite names, lashed into him, and embarrassed him in front of everyone. Poor Aaron. He didn’t like this, not one bit. Furious, and perhaps with spittle on his lips, he challenged Hamilton to a duel. And how cool is that? A real gentleman’s gunfight, with black longcoats and manners and everything!

The two met, late afternoon, on July 11, 1804. They took several paces across a dusty street, backs to each other, and upon turning, Hamilton’s first shot missed his opponent. Aaron Burr’s shot was not a miss, nope, not at all. It was a direct hit to Hamilton’s side and the bullet would slice through the man’s liver, causing massive bleeding and internal damage. It would take Hamilton a horrible thirty six hours to die from the wound.

Burr, meanwhile, fled from the Northeast; he was charged with murder and the authorities were after him. It gets kind of dicey here, with Burr retreating to the South, and stirring up ideas of a secession there, where it is rumored he was trying to seize territory in Louisiana. But he WAS busy, certainly, for three years; it is possible he was trying to forment rebellion in the South and West. He was arrested in Spanish Florida in 1807 and returned to Jefferson’s custody. On trial for murder (and now, treason), Aaron Burr was acquitted, in what was akin to a political circus on the scale of our own modern-day O.J. trial. Jefferson (and his Republicans) wanted Burr to hang; the Federalists wanted him set free. Poor Alexander Hamilton, resigned to his future fate on $10 bills, wanted to take another shot at his foe. In the end, Burr was set free and it was “suggested” he leave the country. He retired to England, and then France, and in 1836 would die from a bullet-wound to the heart. Oh! Not really. He had a massive stroke and died from complications.

.

The Misunderstood Guillotine

It is summer in Paris, and the year is 1793. A throng of people twists and turns through narrow streets as shouts of happiness and shouts of glee echo against buildings that are lit by a June afternoon’s bright sunshine. There is a palpable beat of anticipation. There is a tremor of excitement as the people are carrying pikes, pots, sticks, and drums. The smell of meat roasting on open spits mixes with a more immediate and pungent smell of sweat… this is a carnival of death and the gathering men, women and children are vying for the best view, the best seats, and the quickest way toward the merchants selling ale and bread before the main attraction begins. There is a glint of sun catching the guillotine’s blade; it is a crescent blade, and sharp, and is already stained red from the previous day’s festivities. Hundreds of pairs of eyes are drawn toward the guillotine, raised atop its own platform… here is the “Razor,” the “Madam Scythe,” and below, being marched toward their death, a group of white-clad prisoners who are also squinting against the bright sun.
This is an Era in French History that included the French Revolution and Robespierre’s own “Reign of Terror” – I think it’s interesting to look at the instrument of this terror, the Guillotine, and try to understand what its original purpose was meant to be. Of course, it is a pretty cool little contraption that chopped off a person’s head whenever someone else thought this should have to happen, you know, but it was originally designed with a more humanitarian slant (sorry) in mind.
Before the invention of the guillotine, political prisoners (and thieves and brigands and such) were being put to death in a variety of painful ways. A man could be drowned, strangled, hanged, put to the wheel (too ghastly to even go into) or burned at the stake. The method of decaptitation involved an executioner with what was sometimes a dull sword or a dull axe, and it was necessary to repeatedly “chop” at a person’s neck. This often resulted in suffocation from a crushed windpipe or the loss of blood… it was also made worse if a person flinched or moved just before the strike fell.
Influenced by the “Enlightenment,” in which a man’s ability to “Reason” an “Rationalize” gave rise to new methods in Science and Philosophy -– it would be a French physician who set out to eliminate cruel and inhumane forms of punishment. Antoine Louis (primarily) would develop an easel-like structure which would allow victims to lie on their stomachs, face-down, while above them a crescent-shaped blade was being moved upward by a series of pulleys. The blade would fall quickly, severing a person’s head, and within 10 seconds they could be pronounced dead. Oh, wait. I forgot that a basket was nearby to catch the fallen (um, decapitated) head. This was important. And, in an Enlightened effort, this new tool was tested on animals, more animals, humans, and then more humans.
The guillotine was opposed by many intellectuals of the time who feared the growing power of the state; interestingly, Robespierre was himself an opponent to the tool. Others, like the artist Marat, (you know him, he was murdered in his bathtub) approved of the state’s right to use the threat of death against its enemies. I guess Robespierre, architect of the “Reign of Terror,” came to agree with him – between the summers of 1793 and 1794, the guillotine was dispatching nearly a hundred people every day.
What is interesting is that the guillotine was intended to become a humane tool used for executions. It was certainly a more humane method than dropping a rock-bound person in water or burning them at a stake, don’t you think? Unfortunately, the guillotine, in war-torn France, became a grim machine that symbolized all that the repressive and violent revolution had become. During Robespierre’s “Reign of Terror” as many as fifty thousand people would lose their lives to the constantly falling blade. That included King Louis XIV and his (perhaps) dim-witted wife, Marie Antoinette. The nobility, however, constituted only a slim fraction of those who were killed. It was more likely that the blade would find a member of the new “burgeoise,” or a worker, or a half-starved peasant… possibly those same people who found themselves in the early summer crowds.