Keep Moving On

Who is buried in Grant's Tomb? Asked on many quiz shows, including the Groucho Marx-hosted You Bet Your Life, this was the supposed "easy" question; one a host would ask a contestant so they would not go home empty-handed. Despite being a consolation prize question, it is actually quite tricky for two reasons: first, Grant's Tomb is really a mausoleum - North America's largest, in fact - meaning the bodies are kept above ground. The proper answer to the question, then, is "nobody." Yar har. Second, the Tomb houses the bodies of both Ulysses S. Grant and his wife Julia, although Marx often accepted "Grant" as an appropriate response. While in New York a few years back, I visited Grant's Tomb which is in a nice location in Riverside Park overlooking the Hudson River - prime New York City property. Sitting on a bench near the gargantuan limestone building, I overheard a son asking his father the famous trick question:

"Who lives here?" asked the child,

"Thomas Jefferson," the father replied.

"Oh."

The father and son walked away, hand in hand. Sure, I think it is safe to say we all use $20 bills more often than we use $50 bills, but Ulysses S. Grant is not a man one should confuse with Jefferson.

Military historian J.F.C. Fuller described Grant (born Hiram Ulysses Grant) as "the greatest general of his age and one of the greatest strategists of any age." Indeed, Grant won many important battles, rose to become general-in-chief of the Union armies, and is credited with winning the American Civil War. Some may even argue that Grant receives more respect for his military years than the ones he spent as President in the White House. It is interesting that Grant is seen as a military hero when in fact he was very mild-mannered and even said of himself, "I am more of a farmer than a soldier. I take little or no interest in military affairs." During a visit to Mexico, Grant attended a bullfight but left before the fight was over, disgusted with the cruelty displayed towards the animal. In his personal memoirs, Grant recounted, "The sight to me was sickening. I could not see how human beings could enjoy the sufferings of beasts, and often of men, as they seemed to do on these occasions." One would not expect to hear such tender sentiments from a celebrated war hero, but a war hero Grant was - not to mention, a man whose love for a good cigar led to the making of a legendary story.

While Grant fought in the Mexican War, he did so reluctantly, even calling it "one of the most unjust wars ever waged by a stronger nation against a weaker one." Hmm... sounds familiar. Grant reportedly saw the Civil War as a punishment for America's sins in Mexico and when President Abraham Lincoln called for volunteers to enlist in the Union army, Grant did so with great zest. In addition to enlisting, Grant helped organize Illinois volunteer regiments and the Governor of the state asked him to organize one particularly boisterous regiment. By September of 1861 Grant whipped the regiment into shape and became the brigadier general of volunteers in the war. Unstoppable, Grant took Fort Henry and attacked Tennessee's Fort Donelson in February of 1862. Simon P. Buckner, Fort Donelson's Confederate commander, proposed a cease-fire and when asked for his terms, Grant famously replied, "No terms except an unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted. I propose to move immediately upon your works." Needless to say, the Confederates surrendered and Grant was given the nickname "Unconditional Surrender Grant," which is quite a mouthful if you ask me. Two months after his victory at Fort Donelson, Grant fought at the Battle of Shiloh, a bloody skirmish that ultimately ended as another victory for Grant. After the Battle of Shiloh Lincoln joyfully chirped, "When General Grant once gets possession of a place he seems to hang onto it as if he had inherited it."

While the Battle of Shiloh was indeed a victory for the Union, the taking of Fort Donelson came at a crucial point in the Civil War, and many argue that this triumph is Grant's shining moment during the war. Indeed, the capture of Forts Henry and Donelson were the first significant Union victories in the war and opened two great rivers as avenues of invasion to the heartland of the South. In addition, the Union suffered 2,691 casualties while the Confederacy saw 13,846, largely due to the Confederate surrender. The Union and its supporters rejoiced, the Chicago Tribune announced the city "reeled mad with joy," and many proclaimed Grant a savior. After his victory the public showered Grant with gifts of thanks, including 10,000 boxes of cigars.

A well-known cigar afficionado, it is said that Grant smoked his way through all 10,000 boxes in five years.

The Speckled Monster

In 1806 President Thomas Jefferson wrote to Edward Jenner, the developer of the smallpox vaccination, "Future generations will know by history only that the loathsome smallpox has existed." Smallpox afflicted humankind as no other disease had done; during the 20th century, it is estimated that the disease was responsible for 300–500 million deaths. To this day, smallpox is the only human infectious disease to have been completely eradicated from nature. The last cases of smallpox in the world occurred in an outbreak of 2 instances in Birmingham, England in 1978. One of the victims, medical photographer Janet Parker, passed away after contracting the disease. In light of this accident, all known stocks of the virus were either destroyed or transferred to one of two laboratories in the United States or Russia. I can't help but think of Jurassic Park when considering the random instances when smallpox has decided to rear its speckled, pockmarked head - just when you thought the world was safe from attacks... a T-Rex somehow ends up terrorizing San Diego in an awful sequel.

Smallpox is one of history's oldest and fearsome diseases. Many believe smallpox emerged in human populations in 10,000 BC. - the earliest evidence of its deadly mischief is found on the scarred mummified body of Pharaoh Ramesses V of Egypt. Indeed, smallpox affected many people and, in some cases, entire populations as it traveled its pustular, rash-inducing path - before it was eradicated in 1980, smallpox infections affected as many as 15 million people per year. Smallpox had made itself quite comfortable in the immune systems of Europeans by the sixteenth century. As Europe's population increased and packed into cities, smallpox epidemics appeared more frequently and with greater intensity. As another indication of its increasing strength, epidemics in the 1560s crept over the palace walls of several European monarchs of France, Spain, and England.

On October 10, 1562, Queen Elizabeth I of England felt a little under the weather and took a long walk through her gardens to get some fresh air. A few days later, Elizabeth felt feverish and faint, and her advisers called in German-born physician, Dr. Burcot. The doctor correctly informed his queen, "My liege, thou shalt have the pox;" Elizabeth became outraged upon hearing his verdict. Truth be told, Elizabeth was quite narcissistic and the prospect of contracting a disease that would leave her with a badly scarred face most likely frightened her - should she survive the illness at all, that is! Elizabeth's rival, Mary, the queen of Scots, was rumored to be quite beautiful and this, in all likelihood, only fueled Elizabeth's denial that she did not have smallpox. Agitated, the waggish Elizabeth waved Burcot away, "Have away the knave out of my sight," and off the doctor went, feeling slighted.

Hours after Burcot's departure, Elizabeth became incoherent and sank into a coma. From the start of Elizabeth's reign, all of England questioned who the queen would choose to marry. Elizabeth, however, never married and the reasons for her choice are not clear. Indeed, the queen once said, "If I follow the inclination of my nature, it is this: beggar-woman and single, far rather than queen and married." After Elizabeth became increasingly ill, her council became increasingly distressed over who would be their queen's successor should smallpox take her life. Parliament had urged the queen to marry or nominate an heir to prevent civil war upon her death, but Elizabeth did neither. In her feverish state the queen begged the council to appoint Lord Robert Dudley, a childhood friend with whom her affair was widely speculated upon, as her successor. In the interim, two of the queen's servants were sent to summon Burcot from his home; still sore from his earlier interaction with Elizabeth, the doctor initially rejected aiding the queen, "By God's pestilence, if she be sick, there let her die! Call me a knave for my good will!" Touché, Burcot. One of Elizabeth's servants threatened to kill the doctor right then and there if he refused to help the queen, so, reluctantly, Burcot rode his horse to the palace and advised the queen be wrapped in a flannel blanket beside the fireplace in order to keep warm. Burcot also administered medicine and when Elizabeth came to a few hours later, she was furious that red spots appeared on her hands as a result of taking the treatment. Upon hearing her groans, prickly Burcot exploded, "God's pestilence! Which is better? To have a pox on the hand or in the face, or in the heart and kill the whole body?" If only Elizabeth chose to marry Burcot... imagine the tempestuous spats, the screeching that would reverberate off the palace walls!

As a testament to her strong will and plucky ways, Elizabeth recovered in six days. Elizabeth was fortunate - several fellow royal victims and millions of commoners were scarred, blinded, or slain by the disease that historian TB Macaulay called "the most terrible of all the ministers of death." To thank the doctor who saved her life (the queen was not that prideful after all), Elizabeth gifted Burcot with a pair of gold spurs that she inherited from her grandfather, Henry VII, as well as land in Cornwall. Soon, the queen was writing letters to her rival, Mary the queen of Scots, happily letting her know that the disease had not left many scars on her face. Alas, Elizabeth could still compete with Mary's beauty after all (at least until Elizabeth imprisoned and eventually executed her rival in 1587 - I imagine it is not hard to remain more attractive than someone holed up in a sixteenth century prison). After overcoming smallpox, Elizabeth took to painting her face with white lead and vinegar in an attempt to conceal her scars. An inventive, albeit highly poisonous concoction. Regardless of her curious make-up habit and a nasty meeting with one of the deadliest diseases known to humankind, Elizabeth, or The Virgin Queen, as many called her, lived to be 70 years old.

The Worst Journey in the World

There are a few types of diaries: those that are used for institutional purposes and those that we generally think of when we hear the word "diary" - the diaries that record our innermost thoughts and ramblings, frustrations, and dreams. I kept several diaries throughout my childhood and well into my teen years and these continue to be a constant source of entertainment and embarrassment. Reading someone else's diary can be just as entertaining, if not more so, than re-visiting one's own past diaries. And if you hold a possibly unhealthy obsession with early Antarctic explorers like I do, reading their journals is definitely more interesting than opening my Mead notebooks from the past. Indeed, when scientific journals get personal, things can get pretty exciting.

Edward Wilson, known as "Ted" to his family and "Uncle Bill" to his peers, is one of the most prominent figures of early Antarctic exploration. Wilson took part in two British expeditions to the Antarctic: the British National Antarctic Expedition (or Discovery Expedition), and the Terra Nova Expedition. Wilson served as a Junior Surgeon and Zoologist in the former, a trek that, at the time, was the southern-most journey achieved by any explorer. Wilson traveled with Robert Scott and Ernest Shackleton during the Discovery Expedition and his easy and professional manner was attractive to Scott and Shackleton, so much so, in fact, that each invited Wilson on subsequent journeys. Shackleton invited Wilson to be Second in Command on another trip, romancing Wilson with several letters filled with sentiments such as "Don't say no 'till we have had a talk. Don't say no at all." I like to imagine Shackleton whispering these words into Wilson's ear, coaxing Wilson to join him in frolicking upon the Antarctic floes, admiring baby penguins from afar. Isn't it picturesque? Alas, Wilson rejected Shackleton and instead opted to run off with Scott on what would later be called "The Worst Journey in the World."

In a letter to his mother written prior to the 1910 journey, Wilson wrote, "I am to go as 'Leader of the Scientific Staff,' a high sounding title with the disagreeable duty attached to it of having to reply to toasts on behalf of the scientific staff at the send off dinners." Despite the sarcastic tone used here, after reading his diary, it is obvious that Wilson possessed the necessary qualities of a great leader and that he took much pleasure in his scientific work. For the most part, Wilson's diary acts as a strictly technical recording of his days aboard the Terra Nova, but occasionally he allows readers a glimpse into his personal experience of being in Antarctica and the overwhelming joy he felt while there. After witnessing a pod of killer whales swimming close to the Terra Nova, Wilson writes: "These days are with one for all time... and they are to be found nowhere else in all the world but at the poles."

In the winter of 1911 Wilson fractured from the rest of the Terra Nova crew and led "The Winter Journey" with Henry Robertson Bowers and Apsley Cherry-Garrard. The three men trekked to Cape Crozier to collect Emperor penguin embryos to study what Wilson hypothesized was the most primitive bird in existence. Wilson's account of this journey is much less descriptive than Cherry-Garrard's. Indeed, peers teased Cherry-Garrard for his lack of Antarctic experience and his lack of specialized credentials for the position of 'assistant zoologist' to which he had been named. It makes sense, then, that this young buck's journal would perhaps be more descriptive and written with a wide-eyed tone, unlike Wilson, a man who had been around the icy block several times.

After the three men returned from The Winter Journey, barely alive after working in complete darkness and -40 degree weather, Wilson set out with another party to reach the South Pole. After weeks of trekking through the harshest conditions one could imagine, the five men reached the Pole on January 17, 1912 only to discover that a Norwegian team led by Roald Amundsen preceded them by merely 21 days. Wilson's journal remains detached; he states the facts and lists what the party found at the site. While one can sense disappointment in his writing, Wilson remains stoic and trudges along, although he writes his final entry on February 27, 1912. Robert Scott's diary, on the other hand, continues almost a month after Wilson's ends. Why? Perhaps Wilson's maxim, "to become entirely careless of your own soul or body in looking after the welfare of others" has something to do with it. Indeed, after reading Scott's diary, one can really see that Wilson was a completely selfless leader: "We none of us expected these terribly low temperatures, and of the rest of us Wilson is feeling them most; mainly, I fear, from his self-sacrificing devotion in doctoring Oates' feet. We cannot help each other, each has enough to do to take care of himself." Despite Scott's sentiments, Wilson continued to help his fellow explorers until he physically could not. It is exhilarating and heart-breaking at the same time to read Scott's last few entries - the men are 11 miles away from safety, but a blizzard, exhaustion, and terrible frostbite prevent them from moving. Reading these entries is similar to watching a horror film: the protagonists are so close to safety yet they can never outrun the villain that constantly nips at their heels.

Although Wilson's journal ends in February, there is a letter he wrote on either March 21 or 22 to his parents and it is astounding how lucid and poised he was: "The end has come and with it an earnest looking forward to the day when we shall all meet together in the hereafter."