George Washington – Page 2 – The Intelligent Collector Magazine

We’ve seen incredibly successful hucksters and three-ring circuses before

A 1913 poster promoting the Barnum & Bailey elephant baseball team sold for $9,600 at a February 2019 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

One of the world’s greatest hucksters died in 1891. He was born in Bethel, Conn., and died 80 years later on April 7 in Bridgeport, where he had been mayor in 1875-76. Earlier, he had served four terms in the Connecticut House of Representatives, without distinction. The three-ring circus of modern life with all its hustle and bustle had to start somewhere, so why not simply start with the man responsible for the actual three-ring circus?

Phineas Taylor Barnum had been a loyal Democrat until the 1854 Kansas-Nebraska Act, which supported slavery, was drafted by Democrats and signed by President Franklin Pierce. It effectively nullified the 1859 Missouri Compromise, escalated tensions over the slavery issue and led to a series of violent civil confrontations known as “Bloody Kansas,” a political stain on American democracy.

Barnum promptly switched political parties, becoming a member of the new anti-slavery Republican Party, which was expanding rapidly with defecting abolitionists. John C. Frémont – “The Pathfinder” – was the first presidential candidate of the Republican Party, losing to Democrat James Buchanan in 1856. Abraham Lincoln prevailed in 1860 and 1864, and Republicans would dominate national politics for the rest of the 19th century.

Yes, we’re talking about that Barnum, who would become world famous as founder of “P.T. Barnum’s Grand Traveling Museum, Menagerie, Caravan & Hippodrome.” Most Americans know the name, but whether they know that “P.T.” stands for Phineas Taylor or that he did not enter the circus business until he was 60 years old is doubtful. If not, then it is surely because of the extraordinary, eponymous circus formed when he and James Bailey teamed up in 1881.

Barnum was an energetic 70-year-old impresario. “The Greatest Show on Earth” may have been a slight exaggeration, but it’s not clear who would have rivaled them for the top spot. Clearly it was a distinctive assertion in a life filled with remarkable contradictions. Perhaps it is more precise to think of him as “the Greatest Showman on Earth” or other lofty positions as one desires. (He would undoubtedly find an angle to exploit to the fullest).

He actually had a modest beginning in his show-biz career, starting at age 25. He purchased a blind, nearly paralyzed black slave woman (Joice Heth) who purportedly was 161 years old and a nurse to a young George Washington. She sang hymns, told jokes and answered audience questions about “Little George.” Barnum cleverly worked around existing laws and exhibited her 10 to 12 hours a day to recoup his $1,000 investment.

As Barnum bribed newspaper editors for extra press coverage (always mentioning his name), he also co-produced a sensationalized biographical pamphlet to further hype the hoax. When Heth died in 1836, Barnum sold tickets to another “event” – a public autopsy to judge her actual age. More than 1,300 people eagerly attended the spectacle, which critics slammed as “morally specious.” At 50 cents a ticket, it provided a surprisingly nice profit. Barnum attempted to appease the abolitionists by claiming (falsely) that all proceeds from this flagrant exploitation would be used to buy her great-grandchildren’s freedom.

It is here that that experts who study such arcane issues will argue that it’s important to define the pejorative term “humbug,” using Barnum’s own precepts. To him, a humbug was a fake that delights audiences without scamming them. It is sleight of hand, not bait-and-switch. He called himself the “Prince of Humbugs.” Perhaps it is a distinction without a difference. However, Barnum, still searching for a code of ethics, fled this humbug. Even in his 1854 biography, he wrote that he wanted people to remember him for something other than Joice Heth. It would haunt him until his death.

By 1841, he was touring the country with magicians and jugglers. He bought John Scudder’s struggling American Museum in lower Manhattan, promptly renaming it with the Barnum brand. While displaying a cabinet of curiosities, he introduced pseudo-scientific exhibitions, live freaks and the normal hokums. Still struggling with his ethical bankruptcy, he gambled on backing a national tour for Jenny Lind, the most celebrated soprano in the world, offering her $1,500 for every performance. He calculated it would be worth losing $50,000 just to enhance his reputation.

Her virtuosic arias drew crowds in the thousands, as Barnum wishfully hoped his association with “the Swedish Nightingale” would lessen his reputational baggage. But driven by an outsize eagerness to enrich himself, he peddled spectacles like the “Feejee Mermaid,” the torso and head of a monkey and the back half of a fish, bound together by the clever art of taxidermy. He continued to worship at the altar of celebrity and the power of the press. He created attractions like General Tom Thumb, who at 5, learned to drink wine; at 7, he was smoking a cigar.

He parlayed an audience with President Lincoln into a European tour involving Queen Victoria, gambling that her subjects would be interested as well. The trip paid off big and was extended to include visits with the Tsar of Russia and other nobles. It is not surprising that in his quest for money and fame, his name itself conjured up qualities of audacity, greed and humbug. But how to account or judge the value of excitement, entertainment and gentle controversy? Even as Charles Darwin was jolting the scientific and religious communities with evolution via his Origin of Species, P.T. Barnum introduced William Henry Johnson, a microcephalic black man who spoke a mysterious language … “solving” the quest to find the Missing Link of mankind.

Sadly, on May 21, 2017, Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus gave the last performance of its 146-year history after the elephants had vanished under pressure from animal rights activists. The audience rose for a standing ovation while singing Auld Lang Syne. Then it was over.

Except that it wasn’t!

P.T. Barnum, famous for grabbing headlines, reached up from the grave as Hugh Jackman lionized him in the movie The Greatest Showman. Recent one-word-titled books like Fraud, Hoax and Bunk have found analogies to today while a generation of Madonnas, Warhols and Kardashians have mastered the media to enhance the power of celebrity. We now have the modern equivalent of a three-ring circus continuously playing on Twitter or any cable news channel 24/7. The Romans knew this when they built the coliseum and so did Walt Disney when Disneyland popped up in 1955.

I do miss the cotton candy.

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

FDR deserves credit for steering our ship through dangerous waters

This Wendell Willkie “Out at Third” campaign button – a reference to Franklin Roosevelt’s 1940 third-term candidacy – sold for $9,560 at a November 2009 auction.

By Jim O’Neal

On Sept. 19, 1940, loyal hard-core supporters of the New Deal awoke to a rather startling surprise. The venerable editorial gurus at The New York Times announced their choice for the upcoming presidential election … and it was not Franklin Delano Roosevelt!

The Times had supported FDR in 1932 and 1936, but in 1940, they decided to support his Republican opponent, Wendell Willkie. In rationalizing this decision, they prepared a long preamble describing the seriousness of national and world affairs, but without offering anything new that was not already common knowledge: “One of the great crises in American history … a hostile force sweeping across Europe … impossible to continue isolation … world revolution at stake … Americans fortunate to have two candidates who agree on fundamental foreign policy.”

To buttress their choice of Willkie, they asserted he was better equipped to provide the country with an adequate national defense. They described him as a practical liberal who understood the need for increased production and, lastly, because the fiscal policies of Roosevelt had failed disastrously. And, as a coup de grâce, it was their belief that the traditional safeguards of democracy were failing everywhere. They did not mention that Willkie was a corporate lawyer, read Marx and lobbied for his college to teach socialism. They also failed to mention that Fortune magazine had dedicated an entire edition to Willkie.

Instead, they added to this litany the old third-term taboo, a principal that dated to George Washington. Perhaps they didn’t realize that Washington was too sick to serve a third term (he would die the following year) or that Thomas Jefferson turned down a third term for purely precedent-setting political reasons.

But The Times conceded that FDR had a taken a number of steps to bolster defense, including the new Defense Advisory Commission, before quickly deriding it for lack of real power (it had become a mere consultancy) unable to cut through Washington’s red tape. Instead, they much preferred Willkie’s call for individual sacrifice, hard work and “sweat and toil.” They found this more reassuring than Roosevelt’s speeches, designed to maintain morale. In essence, they were charging the president with a lack of substance.

In choosing Willkie, they were arguing for a business leader with practical experience in stimulating economic growth, while expanding industrial production. “In this field, Willkie is the professional and Mr. Roosevelt the amateur.” A harsh indictment of the country’s leader!

Then the NYT in its editorial proceeded to excoriate FDR for fiscal policy (under an argument it titled “The Road to Bankruptcy”) by highlighting three specific policies that had become reckless:

● A silver policy that had grown to incredible proportions. They cited more than 2 billion ounces of silver – “which our government has no earthly use” – purchased by the Treasury “at overvalued prices in an artificial market. This policy makes no sense, except as a political maneuver.”

● A national debt that had doubled in seven years.

● Welfare programs that would lead citizens to bed rather than work.

In retrospect, we know the NYT was wrong on many levels. Collectively, the New Deal kept the country together through the entirety of the two greatest travails ever visited on the United States. Times were tough and sacrifices many, but we emerged with our republic intact. Roosevelt proved himself tough enough to steer our ship through rough and dangerous waters.

The economic and social reforms of the New Deal created a legacy of new solutions, from the Works Progress Administration and Social Security to banking and financial regulations and a modicum of security to millions of people who’d never tasted it. FDR managed to impart a freedom from fear that resulted in a platform to take on the sacrifices of the impending war.

We ramped up a massive display of Americanism. The Selective Service Act established the first peacetime conscription in U.S. history, while Rosie the Riveter galvanized generations of women as factory workers, warriors and healers … all keeping the home safe. The stimulus from war production produced a Keynesian effect that wiped out the lingering depression.

Thanks to the strategic blunder of Dec. 7, 1941, we saved the free world and possibly civilization as well. Starting with a “Germany First” strategy (whereby the United States and the United Kingdom agreed to subdue Nazi Germany first), Americans gradually led the world back to peace and, in the process, became the Peace-Keeper-Rebuilder.

Perhaps for the first time in modern history, conquering armies did not take vast territories or treasure. We brought our troops home and resumed the American story.

The world owes America a debt that has long been forgotten.

A little-known postscript: FDR and Willkie discussed starting a new liberal party to supplant Republicans and Democrats. Willkie died before the idea had a chance to become a reality, but it’s fun to contemplate how different things might be today.

Who will continue the story of the greatest country in history?

The myth of George Washington chopping down a cherry tree appears on this tin mechanical badge, which dates to 1889.

By Jim O’Neal

It is always a pleasant surprise to discover an obscure name that has been lost in the sands of America’s history. Charles Thomson (1729-1824) falls into that category. He was Secretary of the Continental Congress from 1774 continuously until the U.S. Constitution was firmly in place and the bi-cameral government was functioning in 1789.

He was also the only non-delegate to actually sign the Declaration of Independence. A surprisingly active participant in the Revolutionary War, he wrote a 1,000-page manuscript on the politics of the times. It included the formation of the Continental Congress and a daily recap of speeches and debates right up to the agreement to go forward. In concept, it was a remarkable, contemporary record that is unique (except for notes James Madison complied). The public was not allowed to even attend the meetings in Philadelphia.

Alas, Thomson’s manuscript was never published since he destroyed it. Purportedly, it was because he wanted to preserve the reputations of these heroes and assumed that others would write about these historic times. The obvious implication is that his candid verbatim notes might tarnish some of his fellow colleagues. Thomson receives credit for helping design the Great Seal of the United States and since he personally chose what to include in the official journal of the Continental Congress, we’re left to wonder what he omitted or later burned … another example of why history is normally not considered precisely correct.

As Secretary of the Congress, Thomson personally rode to Mount Vernon, Va., and delivered the news to George Washington that he had been elected president of the United States. He told Washington that Congress was delighted he’d agreed “to sacrifice domestic ease and private enjoyments to preserve the happiness of your country.” Washington, in turn, said he couldn’t promise to be a great president, but could promise only “that which can be done by honest zeal.”

Political pundits opine that the office of the president was perfectly suited for George Washington, especially during the early formative years of the nation. A well-known hero in the fight for independence, he was a national leader who gained power without compromising himself or his principles. Absent the burden of a political party, he could have easily assumed the kind of monarchical power the nation had fought against. But, like his hero Cincinnatus, he had laid down his sword and returned to the plow. Clearly, this was a case of the office seeking the man as opposed to the reverse.

Washington truly did not aspire to the presidency – perhaps unique compared to all the men who followed. In his own words, he considered those eight years a personal sacrifice. In that era, land was the ultimate symbol of wealth and prestige. Through inheritance, he had acquired Mount Vernon and roughly 2,000 acres. That was not close to satisfying his ambitions and he spent much of his private life in a search of more … much more!

Historian John Clark called him an “inveterate land-grabber” and there’s plenty of evidence to support the claim. In 1767, he grabbed land set aside for Indians by the Crown by telling the surveyor to keep it a secret. This was followed by another 20,000 acres designated for soldiers in the French and Indian War. Washington arranged for officers to participate and then bought the land after telling the solders it was hilly, scrubby acreage. Washington would later boast that he had received “the cream of the country.”

Most biographies have been consistent in pointing out that land may have been a prime factor in his decision to court the widow Martha Parke Custis. They invariably point to his strong affection for Sally Fairfax, but she was his best friend’s wife. Martha was not without attraction. As one of the richest widows in North America, her marriage to George resulted in a windfall since what was hers became his. In addition to nearly 100 slaves, her 6,000 acres made George a very rich man. Details of their relationship are not available since Martha burned their love letters after his death.

However, since slaves over 12 were taxed, there are public records. During the first year of their marriage (he was 26 and she was 28), he acquired 13 slaves, then another 42 between 1761 and 1773. From tax records, we know he personally owned 56 slaves in 1761 … 62 in 1762 … 78 in 1765 … and 87 in the 1770s. Washington, Jefferson, Madison and most Virginia planters openly acknowledged the immorality of slavery, while confessing an inability to abolish it without financial ruin.

Washington had a reputation for tirelessly providing medical treatment for his slaves. But, was it for regard of property or more humane considerations? I suspect the answer lies somewhere in between.

As the first president, the paramount issue – among the many priorities of his first term – was to resolve the new government’s crushing debt. In 1790, the debt was estimated at $42 million. It was owed to common citizens of modest means and to thousands of Revolutionary War veterans whose IOUs had never been redeemed as stipulated by the Articles of Confederation. The war pension certificates they held had declined dramatically by 15 to 20 percent of face value.

Raising taxes was too risky and states might rebel. Ignore the debt, as had been the custom for several years, and the federal government risked its already weak reputation. The new president had to turn to his Cabinet for advice. He had an excellent eye for talent and the brilliant Alexander Hamilton was Treasury Secretary. He quickly formed a plan to create a new Bank of the United States (BUS). Since the bank would be backed by the federal government, people would feel safer about lending money and, as creditors, they would have a stake in both the bank and the government. Although Thomas Jefferson opposed the BUS, Washington prevailed in Congress.

Washington was re-elected four years later, again with a unanimous vote in the Electoral College. The first popular voting would not occur until 1824 and since that time, five presidential candidates have been elected despite losing the popular vote: John Quincy Adams (1824), Rutherford Hayes (1876), Benjamin Harrison (1888), George W. Bush (2000), and Donald J. Trump (2016).

It’s not easy starting a new country. There were no cherry trees to chop down as Parson Weems’ story describes. George Washington did not throw a silver dollar across the Rappahannock River. These are all fairy tales that grew over time. Yes, George Washington owned slaves and told a lie now and then. He was obsessed with land at one time. But, when it came to crunch time, he stepped up and committed eight years of his life to his country.

The big question now seems to be where we’ll find another man or woman to continue the story of the greatest country in history?

Zimmermann Telegram the proverbial straw that broke America’s isolationism

A vintage postcard signed by U.S. General John J. Pershing (right), and also showing British Field Marshal Douglas Haig and French General Ferdinand Jean Marie Foch, went to auction in October 2006.

By Jim O’Neal

On Jan. 31, 1917, the German Secretary of State for the Imperial Navy addressed the nation’s parliament. “They will not come because our submarines will sink them.” He went on to state, categorically, “Thus, America, from a military point of view, means nothing … nothing!”

Strictly from an Army standpoint, Eduard von Capelle may have had a point. The U.S. Army had gradually declined in size to 107,641 – ranked No. 17 in the world. Additionally, the Army had not been involved in large-scale operations since the Civil War ended in 1865, over 50 years earlier.

The National Guard was marginally larger, with a total of 132,000. However, these were only part-time militia spread among the 48 states and they, quite naturally, varied considerably in readiness. Equipment was another issue since they were armed with nothing heavier than machineguns. This was rectified significantly in 1917-18 when 20 million men were registered for military service.

Known to only a few, two weeks earlier on Jan. 16, British code-breakers had intercepted a diplomatic message sent by German Foreign Secretary Arthur Zimmermann. The “Zimmermann Telegram,” as it is known, was intended for Heinrich von Eckardt, the German ambassador to Mexico.

The missive gave the ambassador a set of highly confidential instructions to propose a Mexican-German alliance should the United States enter the war against Germany. Von Eckardt was to offer the president of Mexico generous military and financial support if Mexico were to form an alliance with Germany. In exchange, Mexico would be free to annex the “lost territory in Texas, New Mexico and Arizona.” In addition to distracting the United States, Mexico could assist in persuading Japan to join in, as well.

At the start of World War I, Germany’s telegraph cables passing through the English Channel had been cut by a British ship. This forced the Germans to send messages via neutral countries. They had also convinced President Woodrow Wilson that keeping channels of communications open would help shorten the war. The United States agreed to pass on German diplomatic messages from Berlin to their U.S. Embassy in Washington, D.C.

The United States was still firmly committed to remaining neutral and not being entangled in foreign wars that did not pose a direct threat. Wilson had been re-elected in 1916 with a main slogan of “He kept us out of war!” But that did not prevent many individual citizens from joining and many were already fighting in the war in a variety of ways. Some had joined the British Army directly and others joined Canadians already in Europe.

There were also groups in the French Foreign Legion and a special group in the French Air Force. They formed the La Fayette Escadrille in honor of the Marquis de Lafayette, who was a friend from our own war for freedom. Lafayette had actually fought in the American Revolution as a major general under George Washington. He was even present at Yorktown, Va., when British Army General Charles Cornwallis had surrendered, effectively bringing an end to armed hostilities. When Lafayette died in 1834 in Paris, President Andrew Jackson had both Houses of Congress draped in black for 30 days. Individual members of congress also wore mourning badges. It is likely that we may have lost the war with Britain absent the help from the French.

Back on the morning of Jan. 17, 1917, one of the British codebreakers (Nigel de Grey) entered Room 40 of the British Admiralty and asked his boss a question: “Do you want to bring America into the war? I’ve got something that might do the trick!” It was a decoded copy of the Zimmermann Telegram.

Room 40 was the home of the British cryptographic center and they were acutely aware of the implications of disclosing their clandestine activities. They developed an elaborate plan to get a copy to President Wilson without exposing that they had been monitoring all transatlantic cables, including America’s (a practice that would continue for another 25 years). Wilson received a copy on Feb. 25 and by March 1, it was splashed on the front pages of newspapers nationwide.

Diplomatic relations had already been severed with Germany in early February when Germany had resumed unrestricted submarine warfare on American ships in the Atlantic. The Zimmermann Telegram became the proverbial straw that broke America’s isolationism and on April 2, Wilson asked Congress to officially declare war, which they did four days later.

Remarkably, by June 17, the American Expeditionary Force had landed in France. General John J. Pershing and his troops soon marched on Paris. By 1918, it was almost as though Von Capelle’s prophetic “They will never come” had been trumped in six months by America’s melodramatic “Lafayette, we are here!”

Many of the best Room 40 personnel would end up at Bletchley Park to work on cracking the German Enigma machine. Their work is captured brilliantly in the 2014 film The Imitation Game, with Benedict Cumberbatch in the Oscar-nominated role of English mathematics genius Alan Turing.

How to explain why Americans remain so divided?

An oil-on-canvas portrait of George Washington by Philadelphia artist Robert Street (1796-1865) sold for $41,250 at a May 2019 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

The date was April 30, 1789, and the highly respected commander of the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War was ready to take the oath as the first president of the United States. The election had taken place much earlier in January, but electoral votes had not been counted until April 5.

General George Washington, who also had served as the presiding officer at the Continental Convention of 1787, was unanimously elected to the highest office in the new nation. He had to travel from his home in Virginia to New York City for the formal inauguration.

Robert Livingston, chancellor of New York, administered the presidential oath of office at Federal Hall across from the New York Stock Exchange. This site was home to the first Congress, the Supreme Court and executive offices. President Washington then retired to the Senate Chamber where he delivered the first inaugural address to a joint session of Congress. Observers commented he was mildly embarrassed and noticed an almost imperceptible tremble; possibly due to the significant historic relevance of the occasion.

Two blocks away at 75 Wall Street now stands a 42-story modern structure of marble, glass and steel. This luxurious condominium was converted from office space in 2008. It sits at the water’s edge of the Hudson River, atop an old slave market, where people were bought and sold for over 50 years (1711-62).

For Dutch and Spanish slave-traders, who controlled the transatlantic trade at the time, there were far superior markets for the sale of slaves. For one, the sugar plantations in both Spanish America and Portuguese Brazil required hundreds of thousands of slaves.

Given the insatiable European demand for sugar, it made little sense for slave-traders to undertake the additional time to travel up the North American coast to service what was considered a small speculative market. A slave ship could make a round trip between West Africa and Brazil in the same time it would take just to reach Virginia one-way. Compounding the cost were the death rates a longer journey would impose on their human cargo. This was a thriving business and decisions were made based on profitability.

Another factor was that England’s American Colonies were not willing to pay a premium since there was an adequate supply of Europeans willing to serve as indentured servants. As a result, the transatlantic perimeter of the booming slave market essentially ended at the sugar-growing islands of the Caribbean.

In 1788, the year before Washington’s inauguration, the founders recognized that they would have to include language protecting slavery in order to get the necessary state votes to gain approval of the proposed U.S. Constitution. Perhaps James Madison – “The Father of the Constitution” – was the one who accomplished this without using either the words “slaves” or “slavery” (they do not appear until later with the 13th and 15th Amendments). Instead, the reference was to a person “held to service” or “bound to service.”

In a compromise, the Constitution ordered Congress to pass a regulation to abolish it by 1800. A special committee extended the deadline to 1808 to allow a gradual 20-year phase out. They assumed (wrongfully) that slavery would become uneconomic and just naturally die out. In fact, it continued to grow. The 1790 census reported a U.S. population of 4 million, including 700,000 slaves.

Then, in 1793, Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin, which fueled a massive increase in cotton production. Slave plantations were America’s first big business, not the railroad, as some believe. Ten of the first 12 presidents were slaveholders, and two of the earliest Chief Justices.

The slave trade was one of Great Britain’s most profitable businesses. From 1791 to 1800, British ships made 1,300 trips across the Atlantic with 400,000 slaves. And then from 1801 to 1807 another 266,000. During the whole of the 18th century, the slave trade accounted for 6 million Africans. Britain was the worst transgressor, responsible for 2.5 million of the total.

In 1807, the U.S. Congress passed the slave act to “prohibit the transportation of slaves into any port … from any foreign place” (starting in 1808, as directed by the Constitution). However, it did not ban the trading of slaves within the United States. With an estimated 4 million slaves in the country (plus children born into slavery), this resulted in a self-sustaining model that did not require importation, which was now abolished.

The nation continued to evolve with a Southern agrarian society heavily dependent on slave labor while the North pursued industrialization. The constant debates over abolition simply shifted to how new territories and states would enter the Union … as free or slavers. This delicate balance was not sustainable and virtually everyone knew how it might end. It was almost inevitable that no permanent agreement was possible.

We know the implications of the great Civil War that was required to permanently stop slavery in the United States and the difficulties during the post-war reconstruction era. We can wonder about the progress in civil rights during the 20th century. But how do we explain why we are still so divided racially?

I was eager to hear the recent presidential debates, expecting discussions about climate change, health care, immigration, inequality and impeachment. Instead, issues like reparations, asylum, abortion and even forced busing in the 1970s took center stage. Had I dialed 2020 and ended up in 1820 in a Twilight Zone episode?

Maybe Pogo was right after all: “We have met the enemy and he is us.”

Throughout U.S. history, a lot of money has been made from tobacco

Peter Stackpole’s gelatin silver print titled *Camel Cigarette Billboard Sign, Times Square*, 1944, went to auction in 2013.

By Jim O’Neal

In 1976, while planning a new Frito-Lay plant for Charlotte, N.C., a small group of us made a trip to Winston-Salem to visit R.J. Reynolds Tobacco. They had spent $1B on a computer-integrated manufacturing plant (C.I.M.) that was recognized as the largest and most modern cigarette plant in the world. We were interested in the latest automation technologies available for possible application in our new plant.

My two most vivid memories include the pervasive odor outside the plant that I (correctly) identified as menthol. This was not too tough since the plant was the major producer of Salem brand cigarettes (I assumed the rest were Winstons, given the town we were in). Second was that every single manager we met was a heavy smoker, with the biggest clue being the distinctive deep-yellow stain between their index and middle fingers. It was like being in a 1940s Bette Davis movie.

We finished up with an enjoyable dinner with David P. Reynolds, chairman emeritus of Reynolds Metals, whom I had known since my days involving aluminum foil and beer cans. He amused the group by telling old company stories, including “Lucky Strike Green Goes to War.” It seems that in 1942, they wanted to change the package design by substituting white ink for the more familiar green. Both copper and chromium were expensive ingredients in the green ink, so it simply “went to war” (and never returned). There was another story involving Camel and Kaiser Wilhelm (the original name favored for the cigarette that debuted in 1913). I don’t remember the details, but the moral of the story was … never name a product after a living person.

Later, I learned about Operation Berkshire, a secret 1976 agreement between all tobacco CEOs to form a collective defense against anti-smoking legislation (anywhere). Each pledged to never concede that smoking had any adverse health effects. We all recall the “Seven Dwarfs” testifying in April 1994 to the U.S. Congress (under oath) that nicotine was not addictive and smoking did not cause cancer. Movie tip: The Insider starring Russell Crowe ranks No. 23 on AFI’s list of the “100 Greatest Performances of All Time.” It tells the tobacco story of today brilliantly.

Lucky Strike was introduced as chewing tobacco in 1871, evolving into a cigarette by the early 1900s.

More than 400 years earlier, in 1604, King James I had written a scathing rebuke to the evils of tobacco in A Counterblaste to Tobacco. He was the son of Mary, Queen of Scots, and ascended to the English throne when Elizabeth I died childless. He wrote of tobacco as “lothsome to the eye, hatefull to the Nose, harmefull to the braine, [and] dangerous to the Lungs.” He equated tobacco with “a branche of the sinne of drunkenness, which is the roote of all sinned.”

Tobacco was late to arrive in England. Fifteenth-century European explorers had observed American Indians smoking it for medicinal and religious purposes. By the early 16th century, ships returning to Spain took back tobacco, touting its therapeutic qualities. The Iberian Peninsula eagerly adopted its use.

When English settlers arrived in Jamestown in 1607, they became the first Europeans on the North American mainland to cultivate tobacco. Spotting an opportunity in 1610, John Rolfe (of Pocahontas fame) shipped a cargo to England, but the naturally occurring plant in the Chesapeake region was considered too harsh and bitter. The following year, Rolfe obtained seeds of the milder Nicotiana tabacum from the Spanish West Indies and soon production was rapidly growing and spreading to Maryland. By the middle of the 18th century, Virginia and Maryland were shipping nearly 70 million pounds of tobacco to Britain.

Even as many Colonial leaders in America believed that smoking was evil and hazardous to health, it had little effect on the relentless spread of tobacco farming. By the eve of the Revolutionary War, tobacco was the leading cash crop produced by the Colonies. Exports to Britain rose to over 100 million pounds … 50 percent of all Colonial trade. Never was a marriage of soil and seed more bountiful.

But tobacco cultivation and manufacturing were extremely labor-intensive activities. Initially, white indentured servants were used to harvest the crop and inducements to come to America often came in the form of a formal “indentured servitude” agreement. Typically, in exchange for agreeing to work for seven years, the servant would receive his own land to farm. This system was preferred over slavery; losing a slave was seen as more costly than losing an indentured servant.

Then the economics started shifting as land became scarcer and slaves more plentiful due to King Charles II. He decided to create the Royal African Company of England and grant it a monopoly with exclusive rights to supply slaves to the Colonies. Then, with the explosion of cotton production, there was an enormous demand for more slaves.

A cynic might note that the formation of the United States was first led by men from Virginia and then governed by them. President Washington, followed by Thomas Jefferson, James Madison and, finally, James Monroe … four of the first five presidents … all from Virginia and all with slave plantations.

Throughout our history, there has been a lot of money made from tobacco. As the plant manager at that C.I.M. plant explained, “We ship about 800 rail cars filled with cigarettes every eight hours and they come back loaded with cash.”

As delegates hissed, Martin Van Buren became his party’s presidential nominee

Five miniature portraits of George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison and Martin Van Buren, likely produced in Europe during Van Buren’s presidency, sold for $14,340 at a May 2012 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Andrew Jackson had been denied the presidency in the election of 1824, despite winning most of the popular votes and electoral votes. In situations where a political candidate did not secure a majority, the House of Representatives decided which of the top three candidates (by vote totals) would become president. The top three in 1824 were Jackson, John Quincy Adams and William Crawford. Henry Clay had finished fourth and was dropped from consideration.

The House then voted and picked Adams for president and he subsequently appointed Clay to be Secretary of State. Critics claimed that Clay had persuaded the House to vote for Adams in a secret quid pro quo for the Cabinet position. The dispute became notorious and was dubbed “the Corrupt Bargain” by Jackson supporters.

However, Jackson bounced back four years later and soundly defeated JQA for the presidency. This was the second time an incumbent president had been defeated. Thomas Jefferson had defeated President John Adams in the election of 1800. Both Adamses, father and son, were bitter about their defeats, and the “Era of Good Feelings” that existed for eight years (1817-1825) under President James Monroe came to an abrupt end. The deterioration into partisan politics was precisely what George Washington had warned about if political parties were allowed to flourish. He was a man wise beyond his years, as we know so well today.

After Jackson served two tumultuous terms (1829-1837), the Hero of New Orleans was tired and ready to go home. He had abandoned the idea of a third term and even seriously considered an early retirement that would allow close friend and adviser Vice President Martin Van Buren to assume the presidency. This would help ensure a peaceful continuation of Jacksonianism and put Van Buren in a strong place for the 1836 election. Van Buren consistently opposed this and finally the idea was dropped. Jackson would patiently wait for the end of his term.

However, earlier in 1835, Jackson had strongly urged party leaders to hold a national convention composed of delegates “fresh from the people” to pick the nominees. He made no secret of his personal preferences: Martin Van Buren for president and Col. Richard Johnson of Kentucky for vice president. This was not a popular choice, especially in the South, where many considered Van Buren a slick New York politician and Johnson worse … much worse. Johnson was anathema to Southerners. His common-law wife was a black woman and they had two children, which Johnson openly acknowledged.

To others, the “Van Buren Convention” was a farce. They complained that several states didn’t send delegates and others sent too many. They singled out Tennessee, which didn’t have delegates, but simply found a merchant from Tennessee who was in Baltimore on business at the time, quickly admitted him to the convention and allowed him to cast all 15 Tennessee votes for Van Buren and Johnson. His name was Edward Rucker and “ruckerize” (assuming a position or function without credentials) entered the jargon as a pejorative with an easy definition. Eventually, Van Buren and Johnson were selected as the Democratic-Republican Party ticket, with the delegates from Virginia hissing as they walked out of the convention.

Van Buren’s opposition in 1836 was composed of various anti-Jackson parties that had formed a new party called the Whigs. The old English Whigs had fought against royal despotism, and the American Whigs were dedicated to fighting “King Andrew the 1^st.” They were too dispersed to hold a national meeting, so they simply nominated regional favorite sons: Daniel Webster (New England), Senator Hugh White (South) and General William Henry Harrison (West). Their hope was to divide the electoral vote, deny Van Buren the majority and have the election settled in the House as in 1824.

The strategy failed as Van Buren got almost 51 percent of the vote and was elected president. Richard Johnson had a tougher time. Twenty-three of the Virginia delegates refused to vote for him as “faithless electors” and he was one vote short of the 148 requirements. This time, the VP election was tossed to the Senate and for the only time in history, the Senate elected the vice president of the United States, 34 to 16.

Concurrently, word was received in Washington that Sam Houston had taken the president of Mexico as a prisoner, and Texas was applying for annexation as a state. Jackson was hesitant to accept a new state over the slavery issue. However, on the last day of his term of office, he recognized Texas independence – setting the stage for future annexation. Two days later, after handing over the reins of government to now-President Martin Van Buren, he left Washington by train to return to his beloved Hermitage.

Here’s why DeWitt Clinton had real nerve, visionary leadership

This DeWitt Clinton memorial pewter rim went to auction in February 2018.

By Jim O’Neal

If you’re not weary yet of presidential politics, hold on. Bill and Hil Clinton are on a 13-city speaking tour using a conversational format followed by a Q&A session. They are most likely eyeing 2020 as yet another chance to move into a big white house in the 1600 block of Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C. The current occupants do not seem to have a good chance of making it two more years, but next in line is a family named Pence.

The name “Clinton” was also prominent in Washington, D.C., and NYC during the 18^th and 19th centuries, and perhaps even more pervasively. George Clinton (1739-1812) is generally considered a Founding Father as he participated in the French and Indian War and was a brigadier general in the Continental Army. He was also a delegate to the Continental Congress in 1776, but opposed adoption of the U.S. Constitution. Like Samuel Adams, he finally relented when the Bill of Rights was added.

He then turned to politics and in 1777 was elected (concurrently) to become lieutenant governor and governor of New York. In the second presidential election in 1792, he came in third behind George Washington and John Adams, but ahead of Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr. Clinton served four more years as governor of New York and held the record for longest-serving governor (21 years) until it was broken in December 2015 by Terry Branstad of Iowa. Branstad is now the U.S. Ambassador to China.

George Clinton then served as vice president for Thomas Jefferson in his second term (1805-1809) after Jefferson dropped Aaron Burr (presumably because he killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel in 1804). Clinton then served as vice president for James Madison until Clinton’s death in 1812. This was the first time the office of vice president was vacant and also the first time a VP served for two different presidents. Later, John C. Calhoun would serve as vice president for two different presidents (John Quincy Adams and Andrew Jackson) as he unsuccessfully tried to position himself for the top spot.

However, we are more interested in George Clinton’s nephew, DeWitt Clinton (1769-1828), who challenged James Madison for the presidency in 1812. DeWitt was a U.S. Senator from New York, mayor of NYC, and the sixth governor of New York. It was during his time as governor that he made his mark on history.

At the time, the great American rivers on the Eastern seaboard – like the Hudson, Delaware and Connecticut – were woefully underutilized for transportation or commerce. The primary modes for river transportation were limited to the currents, wind, various animals or one’s own feet. And, of course, going upstream against the currents was difficult and essentially impractical. But there were exciting things going on in Europe that would help transform the United States.

James Watt’s coal-fired steam engines were powering the spinning machines that transformed cotton into high-grade cloth. The cost was so low that the material could be shipped all the way to India and still be cheaper than local hand looms. Since England was sitting on huge supplies of coal and the coalmines could use the abundance of labor, it was a near-perfect situation. The remarkable Industrial Revolution was in full swing, transforming a nation of shopkeepers into a modern nation. The same near-perfect balance occurred in steel production following Henry Bessemer’s technique that obsoleted iron.

Attaching a steam engine to a boat was the next big thing and America’s ingenuity took over. By 1807, an American who had spent most of his life in England and France decided to return to America and tackle this obvious opportunity. Robert Fulton’s boat, the North River Steamboat, was 133 feet long with a tonnage of 160. It literally dwarfed all other experimental steamboats and was ready for a trial run to Albany.

Most skeptics believed Fulton would not be able to ever move 1 mile per hour or be of any utility. With smoke plumes marking its progress, the North River headed north on the Hudson. It arrived in Albany in 32 hours, averaging nearly 5 mph … upstream. On the return, it was back in a mere 30 hours. Vindicated, Fulton predicted it would soon be providing quick and cheap conveyance on the Mississippi, Missouri and others. He was right, as the Mississippi, Ohio and every other major river would soon have steamboats churning up and down their waters.

Even as steam had conquered America’s rivers, other geographic features limited commerce. Mountains were near impossible, and flat lands required the considerable exertion of horses, oxen and people. Land-based commerce – which was rapidly becoming the major activity – was both limited and expensive. One solution was canals and that’s where Governor DeWitt Clinton re-enters the picture. He personally championed the Erie Canal when others (including Thomas Jefferson) thought the idea was “little short of madness.”

Thanks to Clinton’s unwavering efforts to overcome all objections, on July 4, 1817, construction began on a 363-mile canal that was dug all the way from Lake Erie to Albany, N.Y. … blasting its way through mountains with powder from E.I. Du Pont de Nemours; the powder was DuPont’s only product for the company’s first 60 years of its existence. It took eight years and a budget of $6 million, raised from bonds from the public rather than squabbling with state bean counters. It was a lot of money; for perspective, the entire federal government budget for 1811 was $8 million. So hats off to a Clinton with real nerve, perspective and the kind of leadership vision that built this nation.

As an aside, today the federal government spends $8 million every 56 seconds. Maybe that’s why we have bridges that crumble, airports that lag third-world countries and we owe someone $22 trillion.

Believe it or not, electing presidents has never been a pleasant affair

An 1889 letter in which Rutherford B. Hayes discusses his inauguration sold for $19,120 at an April 2007 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

One discouraging trend in American culture is treating everything from a partisan-political standpoint. I can recall not too long ago after an election, we’d simply forget about our disagreements about candidates and resume normal civility. Now it seems that nearly everything gets politicized, dividing the nation into continually warring tribes of Red and Blue. Some political pundits see the starting point as the 2000 Gore versus Bush election, with its hanging chads and the controversial Supreme Court decision to stop the vote recount in Florida. Others believe the feud between President Bill Clinton and Speaker Newt Gingrich exacerbated it.

However, to accept either theory requires ignoring the 1876 presidential election between Samuel Tilden and Rutherford B. Hayes.

Hayes, the Republican, was a lawyer from Ohio who distinguished himself during the Civil War as a brave soldier who was wounded five times and eventually promoted to a brevet major general. After the war, he served in Congress and was elected governor of Ohio three times.

Tilden also had a legal background and was the 25th governor of New York (1875-76). As the Democratic candidate for the presidency in 1876, he is still the only individual to win an outright majority (not just a plurality) of the popular vote, but lose the election … in a rather bizarre series of events. Four other candidates have lost the presidency despite having a plurality of the popular vote (Al Gore and Hillary Clinton are the most recent to suffer this fate).

It had generally been assumed that incumbent President Ulysses S. Grant would run for a third term, despite a troubled economy and numerous scandals that had been discovered during his two terms, which started in 1869. There was also the two-term precedent established by George Washington. In spite of these formidable barriers, Grant’s inner circle of advisors were eager to maintain political power. While Grant was on the verge of announcing his candidacy, the House of Representatives preempted him by passing a resolution by an overwhelming margin, 233-18, establishing a two-term limit to prevent a dictatorship. Grant reluctantly withdrew his name from consideration.

The Democrats proceeded with their National Convention in June 1876 in St. Louis (the first time a major political convention was held west of the Mississippi). They selected Tilden on the second ballot and added Thomas Hendricks for vice president, since he was the only one nominated. The Democrats were hungry for a win since they had been out of power since James Buchanan, who was elected a full 20 years earlier in 1856.

What followed was the most contentious presidential election in American history. On the first vote in the Electoral College, Tilden had 184 votes (only one short) while Hayes was stuck at 165. However, there were 20 votes being contested in four states (Florida, Louisiana, South Carolina and Oregon) and both parties were claiming victory. This impasse caused a Constitutional crisis and, finally, a beleaguered Congress passed a law on Jan. 29, 1877, to form a special 15-member Electoral Commission to settle the dispute. After a great debate, the commission awarded all 20 disputed votes to Hayes, who became president with 185 votes to Tilden’s 184.

In return, Republicans passed a resolution that required an end to Reconstruction and the removal of all federal troops from every Southern state. Over the next 20 years, the states passed all kinds of laws and regulations that effectively wiped out the provisions of the 14th and 15th Amendments to the Constitution that granted numerous rights to the black population. It would take another 60 years to regain them when LBJ was president and finally crack the “Solid South” grip on national politics.

Maybe we are doomed to be a divided nation, but I suspect that strong leaders will emerge, eventually, and help us remember the advantages of a group of united states … E pluribus unum.

John Adams saw the White House as a home for ‘honest and wise men’

A vintage creamware punch bowl, commemorating “John Adams President of the United States,” sold for $15,535 at a March 2008 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

As the states prepared for the first presidential election under the new Constitution, it was clear that George Washington was the overwhelming favorite to become the first president of the United States.

Under the rules, each state would cast two votes and at the February 1789 Electoral College, all 69 Electors cast one of their votes for Washington, making him the unanimous choice of 10 states. Two of the original Colonies (North Carolina and Rhode Island) had not yet ratified the Constitution, and New York had an internal dispute and did not chose Electors in time to participate. Eleven other men received a total of 69 votes, with John Adams topping the list with 34 votes, slightly less than 50 percent. He became the first vice president.

Four years later, there were 15 states (Vermont and Kentucky) and the Electoral College increased to 132 Electors. Again, Washington was elected president unanimously, with 132 votes. Adams was also re-elected with 77 votes, besting George Clinton, Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr. All three of the runner-ups would later become vice presidents, with Clinton serving a term for two different presidents (Jefferson and Madison). Jefferson had cleverly picked Clinton as his VP due to his age, correctly assuming Clinton would be too old to secede him … thus ensuring that Secretary of State James Madison would be the logical choice. Clinton would actually be the first VP to die in office.

Two-time Vice President John Adams would finally win the presidency on his third try after Washington decided not to seek a third term in 1796. Still, Adams barely squeaked by, defeating Jefferson 71-68. Jefferson would become vice president after finishing second. It was during the Adams presidency that the federal government would make its final move to the South after residing first in New York City and then Philadelphia.

This relocation was enabled by the 1790 Residence Act, a compromise that was brokered by Jefferson with Alexander Hamilton and James Madison, with the proviso that the federal government assume all remaining state debts from the Revolutionary War. In addition to specifying the Potomac River area as the permanent seat of the government, it further authorized the president to select the exact spot and allowed a 10-year window for completion.

Washington rather eagerly agreed to assume this responsibility and launched into it with zeal. He personally selected the exact spot, despite expert advice against it. He even set the stakes for the foundation himself and carefully supervised the myriad details involved during actual construction. When the stone walls were rising, everyone on the project assembled, laid the cornerstone and affixed an engraved plate. Once in the mortar, the plate sank and has never been located since. An effort was made to find it on the 200th anniversary in 1992. All the old maps were pored over and the area was X-rayed … all to no avail. It remained undetected.

The project was completed on time and with Washington in his grave for 10 months, plans were made to relocate the White House from Philadelphia. The first resident, President John Adams, entered the President’s House at 1 p.m. on Nov. 1, 1800. It was the 24th year of American independence and three weeks later, he would deliver his fourth State of the Union address to a joint session of Congress. It was the last annual message delivered personally for 113 years. Thomas Jefferson discontinued the practice and it was not revived until 1913 (by Woodrow Wilson). With the advent of radio, followed by television, it was just too tempting for any succeeding presidents to pass up the opportunity.

John Adams was a fifth-generation American. He followed his father to Harvard and dabbled in teaching before becoming a lawyer. His most well-known case was defending the British Captain and eight soldiers involved in the Boston Massacre on March 5, 1770. He was not involved in the Boston Tea Party, but rejoiced since he suspected it would inevitably lead to the convening of the First Continental Congress in Philadelphia in 1774.

He married Abigail Smith … the first woman married to a president who also had a son become president. Unlike Barbara Bush, she died 10 years before John Quincy Adams actually became president in 1825. Both father and son served only one term. Abigail had not yet joined the president at the White House, but the next morning he sent her a letter with a benediction for their new home: “I pray heaven to bestow the best blessing on this house and on all that shall hereafter inhabit it. May none but honest and wise men ever rule under this roof.” Franklin D. Roosevelt was so taken with it that he had it carved into the State Dining Room mantle in 1945.

Amen.

JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].