Tower of Lincoln

The Ford's Theatre Center for Education and Leadership has a tower of books devoted to Lincoln in its lobby. PRET-ty impressive. (Via.)

Death by Jewelry (and Why Authors Are So Generous)

Rose O’Neal Greenhow was the only American spy who was killed by her own jewelry. A gregarious socialite in Washington, DC, during the Civil War, Rose was actually gathering secrets about the Union army to pass along to the South. And this was good stuff; after Rose sent one message about troop movements hidden in a girl’s curls, the South got a big victory at the Battle of Manassas. (Jefferson Davis later gave Greenhow full credit for the victory.)

But the jig was eventually up. When Abe Lincoln’s very own detective, Allan Pinkerton, arrested Greenhow, she chewed and swallowed a secret message she was carrying. She was imprisoned for espionage and eventually exiled to the Confederate states. From there, the spying socialite traveled to Europe to lobby for the Confederate cause. She was surprisingly successful; it turned out that aristocrats could relate to the South. While in Europe, Greenhow's memoirs (My Imprisonment and the First Year of Abolition Rule At Washington) were published. It sold VERY well.

In 1864, Greenhow got on a British blockade-running ship to return home. She made it to the Cape Fear River near Wilmington, North Carolina. But as a Union gunboat gave chase, Greenhow gathered the gold and jewels her royalties had gained her and got in a rowboat. Bad move. After the boat capsized, the gold and her gigantic skirt, Greenhow sank like a gemstone, never to return.

And this explains why authors to this day donate the bulk of their royalties to charity.

Hey, that reminds me, have you ever seen that movie on intelligence gathering called Spy Kids? If so, you know that part when Carmen said, “Spy work, that's easy. Keeping a family together, that's difficult. And that's the mission worth fighting for”? I winced a little there. (Good movie, though.)

My sources are here.

Campaign Blast from the Past

Paid for by the Friends of Stephen Douglas.

Campaign Blast from the Past: Those @!&%! Voters!

American political candidates regularly pay carefully-phrased compliments to the American public. They know the most basic rule of politics: NEVER insult your voters.

It sounds obvious, but even veteran politicians sometimes forget. Senator Jim Watson (right, 1862-1948) was in office for six terms. But when he said, “You can vote for me or go to hell," Watson lost the next election.

Hearing of Watson's gaffe, Calvin Coolidge quipped, “He gave them a difficult alternative.” (Capping irony: If you visit Watson's official Senate page, it has the heading: James E. Watson: "Impossible Not to Like.")

Frontiersman Davy Crockett (1786–1836) had better timing than Watson, but worse results. Starting in 1827, Crockett served three terms in Congress. But after losing his seat in 1835, Davy told voters to "go to hell."

Crockett left town and went to the Alamo. In less than a year, he was dead.

The most legendary line along these lines came courtesy of Dick Tuck. After losing his bid for California state Senate seat in the 1960s, Tuck joked, "The people have spoken— the bastards."

Representative Morris Udall (left, with JFK) used the same line after losing the Democratic presidential primary to Jimmy Carter. Like Tuck, Udall also had a sense of humor... and he needed it, since that was the fifth time he'd lost a presidential primary!

As for McCain and Obama, they'll probably navigate the next weeks of campaigning without incident. (We'll see about Biden and Palin.) Nonetheless, two of these candidates will soon want to what Abraham Lincoln said about losing an election. The great American president said that it made him feel like a boy who’s stubbed his toe: he’s too old to cry, but it hurts too much to laugh.

*My sources are here.