INSURRECTION | The Constitution's Writers Feared Tyrants, including Mobs

David Lefer

January 19, 2021—The epiphany of January 6 will be two weeks ago tomorrow, when President Joe Biden will be inaugurated.

It is a good time to remember an event six years ago, long before social distancing put an end for a while to in-person events, that the Harvard Club of New York created a book expo. 

There I became interested in a book by David Lefer on The Founding Conservatives. I wrote about his book afterwards in a post on the Oxbridge Pursuivant blog site.

The book's theme is that in writing the Constitution conservatives like Madison and Hamilton were building in protections against hostile mobs. They had good reason. During the debate over ratifying the document, which took place in Philadelphia, a mob captured and took hostage some members of the state assembly to get them to vote their way.

Conservatives were concerned that they were trading American freedom from tyranny by George III and Lord North for tyranny by  mobs at home. They would have been particularly appalled by a political party or faction, whether on the right or left, trying to overturn the results of an election by appealing to a mob.

I was especially interested in what Lefer had to say about John Dickinson of Delaware. Another person that interested me was William Livingston, who represented New Jersey at the Constitutional Convention.

BIRTHDAY | Robert Caro, 85

L to R: Alec Baldwin, Jules Feiffer,
Robert Caro, East Hampton Library,
2015. Photo by JTMarlin.

October 30, 2020—Happy 85th birthday, Robert Caro. A New Yorker by birth, Caro is known for his two in-depth biographies, of Robert Moses and Lyndon Johnson (five volumes so far, or is it six?), to which he has devoted his lifetime. 

These congratulations are a reprise of the Happy Birthday posted here on your 80th, five years ago.

Congratulations also on the fine tribute to you today from Garrison Keillor's Writer's Almanac, from which this is extracted:

As an investigative reporter for Newsday, Robert Caro wrote why a proposed bridge across Long Island Sound from Rye to Oyster Bay would be a bad idea. It was promoted by Robert Moses, the urban planner. Caro had been convinced his articles would reverse the decision to build the bridge, but the state’s Assembly voted to begin construction. Caro was stunned. He said: 

I got in the car and drove home to Long Island, and I kept thinking to myself: ‘Everything you’ve been doing is baloney. You’ve been writing under the belief that power in a democracy comes from the ballot box. But here’s a guy who has never been elected to anything, who has enough power to turn the entire state around, and you don’t have the slightest idea how he got it.

Caro's latest book, on his
work habits. Previewed in
The New Yorker.

Caro took seven years to write his 1,300-page biography of Moses, The Power Broker (1974). He was so broke while he was writing the book that his wife sold their Long Island house without telling him. The book won the Pulitzer Prize for nonfiction [he won again with his LBJ biography]. To write biography well, Robert Caro believes it must read like fiction. He says:

Rhythm matters. Mood matters. Sense of place matters. All these things we talk about with novels, yet I feel that for history and biography to ­accomplish what they should accomplish, they have to pay as much attention to these devices as novels do. 

Caro keeps a strict routine when writing, like wearing a suit and a tie and keeping the same hours every day. He interviewed LBJ's speechwriter 22 times and lived in Texas for several years while doing research.

Comment: I was introduced to Robert Caro in New York City in 1974 when The Power Broker first came out, I think by Julius C. C. Edelstein, who was a fellow professor when I taught in the CUNY system in the 1970s. 

I have met the Caros several times since then at the Authors' Night in East Hampton, where they have a summer home. He has described both of his biographies as investigations into power—how it is acquired and how it is used. He has said: “The power of the historian is the power of the truth, a very basic thing.”

The Guardian published a fine interview with Caro last year that includes his wife Ina. She was Caro's sole research collaborator and recently wrote two books of her own on traveling in France. One of her books describes the palace that Fouquet built; it inspired Alice and me to visit it when we were in France recently.

THE FREE LIFE | 50 Years Ago

September 18, 2020—This week's East Hampton Star has a Guestwords (op-ed) tribute by LTV's Archivist, Genie Chipps Henderson, to "The Free Life" balloon that was launched from George Sid Miller's farm in Springs 50 years ago. In the aerial photo above, Accabonac Harbor is in the background.

The three balloonists were: 

• Actress Pamela Brown, 28, daughter of Kentucky Congressman John Y. Brown Sr. and sister of Kentucky Fried Chicken CEO John Y. Brown, Jr.
• Her husband Rodney (Rod) Anderson, 32.
• Famed English balloonist Malcolm Brighton, 32. 

It was Brighton's 100th balloon ascent. It was also his last. I have written about this flight  in prior years, for example, here: http://nyctimetraveler.blogspot.com/2013/09/september-21-end-of-free-life.html.

The balloon was first assembled over several weeks in the field behind 775 (now 771) Springs Fireplace Road. It was then brought north on the same road to Miller's larger field —a pasture for horses from which the horses were temporarily removed—for inflation, filming, and launching.

As the flight plans moved along, some nagging questions arose:

• Only one of the three was an experienced balloonist.
• The balloonist was not involved in the design of the balloon, and had issues with it.
• Above all, the design did not allow easy separation of the gondola from the balloon.
• Another experienced balloonist pulled out because he decided it was too risky.
• On the day before the launch, a couple of tears were found in the balloon. One of them was described by farmer Miller as a "hole in the side" that was "patched". 
• A crowd came to see them off. The press was out in force—a problem, because it meant rescheduling would have wasted their time and lost face for the crew.
• It was beautiful launch day. What could go wrong?
• The departure was fueled by champagne.

The momentum of a sendoff makes turning back difficult. I am reminded of this when I speculate why it has been so hard for some to self-quarantine or accept a lockdown to stop the spread of Covid-19. Momentum keeps us wanting to stick to the old plan, the old way.

After they took off, a PanAm pilot warned them about a cold front coming south. When they reached Newfoundland, they ran into a storm. Brighton, in a clear and professional voice, notified the Gander Delta weather station that they were ditching the balloon. They were coming down over water. That, alas, was the last anyone heard from the balloon.

Presumably Brighton was planning on cutting the lines that held the balloon to the gondola and the crew would then get into the onboard raft and be rescued. One could imagine that in the storm the crew could not cut them fast enough. If they did cut loose and made it to the raft, it would have been a challenge for the 1970-vintage operation at Gander to send out a rescue mission to get to them quickly. They were hundreds of miles away.

No one ever found any trace of The Free Life.

Genie Henderson was a close friend of fellow Kentuckian Pamela Brown. Here is her story: https://www.easthamptonstar.com/guestwords-opinion/2020917/guestwords-50-years-later-free-life. A plaque is being prepared to mark the pasture where the flight was launched.

Brighton's daughter, who was eight years old at the time, has initiated a special site to honor the quest represented by The Free Life—https://www.thefreelifeballoon.com/. It includes a compelling movie about the flight.

CONSTITUTION DAY | 233rd Anniversary Celebration

September 17, 2020. On this day in 1787 the United States Constitution was signed by delegates at the final meeting of the Constitutional Convention. 

The Signing of the United States Constitution by Louis S. Glanzman, 1987. 

Commissioned by State Societies of the Daughters of the American 

Revolution. Independence National Historical Park Collection.

We may forget that the Constitutional Convention was created to raise money for the central government so it could maintain a military to stop piracy. The central government was supposed to provide such services but it didn't have the money to pay for them. It didn't have an effective means of collecting its debts.

The war with Britain had officially ended four years before, but the Articles of Confederation created by the Second Continental Congress were weak. After overthrowing an imperious monarch, George III, the Americans had no taste for another strong central authority. The United States had no real executive, just a president of the Congress. The Second Continental Congress had thrown the government-creating job back to each of the 13 colonies. They did their job, and took on what they could, but some things could only be done centrally, like maintaining an Army and a Navy.

By 1787, not one of the states was up-to-date on its federal taxes. The central government had no way to force collection. Meanwhile, pirates were attacking American ships, and the central government could afford neither to pay them off nor defend the ships. Troops were deserting, and the national military was unable to come to the aid of states when they needed it.

James Madison and other leaders organized the Constitutional Convention to enable the central government to collect taxes and provide reliable services. In May 1787, delegates arrived in Philadelphia and there spent the next four months rewriting the Articles of Confederation. It was hot and buggy. The 55 highly educated, and by-now politically seasoned, delegates averaged 42 years of age:

• George Washington was elected president and rarely spoke. 
• Alexander Hamilton was absent from much of the deliberations but emerged as the principal author of the Federalist Papers, arguing why the Constitution should be ratified. 
• Governor Morris was a witty man with a peg leg who wrote the famous preamble to the Constitution. 
• Benjamin Franklin, 81, could no longer walk and had to be carried around Philadelphia in a sedan chair.
• James Madison was constantly in attendance, taking notes and arguing strenuously for a more powerful central government. A small man, 5'6" and weighing 120 pounds, he became known as "the Father of the Constitution.” On the final day of the Constitutional Convention, he wrote: "“Franklin, looking towards the President's Chair, at the back of which a rising sun happened to be painted, observed to a few members near him, that painters had found it difficult to distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun. I have, said he, often … looked at that behind the President without being able to tell whether it was rising or setting: But now at length I have the happiness to know that it is a rising and not a setting Sun.”

Today, the National Archives is celebrating the 233rd anniversary of the signing of the Constitution with special virtual programs for all ages, including book talks,  public programs, and interactive webinars. The National Archives is the permanent home of the original Constitution. See the Archives special Celebrating Constitution Day page for information about its public programs, family activities, and online resources.

SHIPS | MS Boissevain (1937-1968)

The MS Boissevain, built 1937, named after Jan Boissevain (1836-1904)

September 13, 2020—The MS [Motor Ship, sometimes MV for Motor Vessel] Boissevain was officially launched on June 3, 1937 in Hamburg. The passenger ship was impressive for its day. It and the other two ships built at the same time were intended for luxury service in Asia, Africa and Latin America.

 

The MS Boissevain was named after Jan Boissevain, older brother (by six years) of Charles Boissevain (1842-1927), who was your blogger's great-grandfather. A friend and third cousin, Ben Boissevain of Ascento Capital, is great-grandson of Jan Boissevain.

Today I received some photos I hadn't seen before, from Thomas E. Brown. They were in a photo album he purchased in the 1990s from a German dealer, Hermann Historica. It has many photos of the shipbuilding dock at Boehm and Voss during the 1930s. It contains  details about the MS Boissevain and the two other large passenger-cargo liners of the Koninklijke Paketvaart-Maatschappij (KPM). 

1. The first series shows the launching party's arrival at the B+V shipyard 45 in Hamburg on June 3, 1937. They are met by shipyard dignitaries. Here is a sample.

Launching party arrives, met by shipyard executives.

2. Ellegonda Duranda (E. D.) Boissevain is in many photos—she is the young lady in front at with the cake-like hat, dark coat and bouquet of flowers. She is your blogger's third cousin, Jan Boissevain's great-granddaughter.

Ellegonda Duranda Boissevain (born 1914) is in front at right. She later married
Eduard Veltman and subsequently Arthur Anton Kunzil.

3. The white-haired gentleman in the first photo is also seen making a speech in the launching photo below. 

Unidentified white-haired man presides.

4. Then they all leave.

Dignitaries depart.

Each of the three ships was named after one of the KPM founders/Directors— Jan Boissevain, Mr. Tegelberg and Mr. Ruys. These three Dutch liners were all launched in 1937, yet strangely each ship was built by a different builder, as well as one outside of the Netherlands, yet each ship was identical, with minor interior décor differences. 

Once completed, each ship reached their homeport in Asia, but they rarely visited the Netherlands, which was invaded without warning or pretext by Hitler in 1940. Instead, the ships operated as part of the most exotic and far-ranging ocean liner service in the world. 

The Koninklijke Paketvaart-Maatschappij — “KPM” or “Royal Packet Navigation Company"—  operated extended voyages from Hong Kong, Manila, Saigon, Bangkok, Singapore, Batavia, Rodriguez, Mauritius, Réunion, Tamatave, Lourenço Marques, Durban, East London, Port Elizabeth, Mossel Bay, and Cape Town. Also Zanzibar, Mombasa, Mahé, Belawan Deli, Shanghai Hong Kong.  Here's another photo of the MS Boissevain.

Speed trials for the MS Boissevain were a success.

Their services varied, and their schedules would include South America, after their WW2 troop-carrying duties. The three ships were originally built with luxurious and extremely spacious accommodations for just 82 passengers in First Class, 72 passengers in Second Class, and 500 Third Class passengers. 

First Class passengers had specially designed public rooms. Two deluxe suites had glass- enclosed private verandas. There were spacious promenade and sports decks and a Lido Cafe opening onto a tiled outdoor Pool. The passengers included very wealthy people in First Class, International and Asian tourists, and migrants to a new land. In their 30 years of operation, the MS Boissevain and its two sister ships became greatly loved for exemplary service and fine cuisine, provided in elegant interiors. 

From the Blohm & Voss slipway, the MS Boissevain entered the water for the first time.  Once afloat, she was towed to her Blohm & Voss "Fit-Out" berth, where she was fitted out, had her funnel placed atop and masts added. When she was completed in October she headed out to sea for her speed trials, which reached an excellent 18.1 knots at top speed. 

The Boissevain was delivered to KPM in Yokohama, Japan on December 1, 1937. KPM ensured the ship was fully crewed and stocked up to commence her first voyage in early January 1938. The advance 1938 MS Boissevain schedule was published by KPM prior to the MS Boissevain being completed, with an artist's impression of The Boissevain on the cover. 

During World War II they became troop carriers and their glamorous interiors were sacrificed to wartime needs for maximum capacity for troops. The MS Boissevain was renamed HMS (Her Majesty's Ship) Boissevain because the boat was in the service of the Dutch Queen. The ships docked with troops in the Dutch East indies in Batavia and Tandjong-Priok.

After the war and independence for Sukarno's Indonesia, in 1947 the ships were refurbished and reglamorized in Hong Kong. They went into service and in 1961 were refurbished again, with a new branding as part of the Royal Interocean Line (RIL). The ships were scrapped in 1968.

To help sort out family relationships to Jan Boissevain (1836-1904), the shipowner and co-founder of KPM, here is an abbreviated Boissevain family tree. Jan is the older brother of Charles Boissevain, who is your blogger's great-grandfather. The numerous descendants of Jan are called the Jantjes and similarly numerous descendants of his younger brother are called the Charlestjes.

Sources: 

Timetable: http://www.timetableimages.com/maritime/images/list.htm Short link: https://bit.ly/2Zx8tAd. 

KPM: http://ssmaritime.com/KPM-Boissevain-Tegelberg-Ruys-1.htm Short link: https://bit.ly/3ir4DQN Short link: https://bit.ly/35u2noc.

Family Tree: Your blogger based on the Nederlands' Patriciaat ("Blue Book").

WW2 | Who Mostly Enforced the Blackouts?

 August 12, 2020—Wearing a mask in Covid-19 time is akin to blacking out your windows, or turning off lights, during World War 2.

Who enforced the rules then? The answer is they were volunteer air raid wardens. They would patrol the streets looking for lights in windows, and they would knock on the doors of people who were letting light appear that could guide enemy bombers.

Was there much violation of the rules? No, because everyone understood it was in the interest of the neighborhood not to be visible from the air at night. 

More here. 

WW2 HOLLAND | Jimmy Huizinga, Wally van Hall

August 2, 2020—I wrote something about the visit of Wally and Gijsbert van Hall to New York City in 1929 (!). The two brothers had jobs on Wall Street. They spent time with Jimmy Huizinga, son of the great Dutch historian Johan Huizinga, who was imprisoned by the Nazis in 1942 for his anti-fascist views and died in prison in 1945.

I just received a short memory by someone who became, a generation or two later, another friend of Jimmy Huizinga. My correspondent's name is Rider McDowell, a writer who lives with his wife and sons in Pebble Beach, California. This is what he wrote to me, posted here with his permission:

Rider McDowell (L) and Jimmy Huizinga, 
in Gassin, France.

Jimmy was my surrogate grandfather. Great guy. His wife was the former Mary Cookson, who’d previously been married to Johnny Churchill. They were a great couple, took me under their wing when I was 19.

I was introduced to them in London through a girlfriend’s family. The Huizingas were looking for “an artist in residence” to work as a part time handyman on their property in Gassin [just west of Saint-Tropez on the Côte d'Azur], for the spring and summer season. Jimmy had just turned 70 and Mary used to say she was born on the same day as JFK.

I was an aspiring writer and Jimmy read and critiqued my first mystery novel as well as my first play and several short stories. They were great fun and we became very close and would get together for years afterwards in London for dinner, etc.

The first time I met Jimmy we walked from his property in Gassin to one being constructed by industrialist Gunter Sachs, an enormous ornate plate glass, bird cage of a house. And Jimmy said, “Look at this monstrosity and look at all that glass. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” And I said, “I think so.” And with a chuckle we each picked up a rock, and threw it at this enormous window, and then ran.

Even though Jimmy was 50 years older than me, we were like pals. We'd drive around to various expatriate parties around St Tropez. Jimmy knew everyone. My English girlfriend would hang with Jimmy's wife, and Jimmy and I would raise hell at the parties, meeting people and having constant laughs.

Once we went skiing for the day, some French Alp. We drove all the way there and back in one day. When we returned, he made me drag him into his house, feigning two broken legs to Mary, who almost fainted. 

He was a very popular guy, a lot of fun, but very dedicated to his own writing and led a responsible life in general. Twice I lived in their 'cabanon' in Gassin, and thereafter we would see each other in London, and then we communicated regularly by mail and phone when I moved to NYC. 

They had a delightful little mews house in Lennox Gardens Mews, in the Knightsbridge neighborhood of Westminster. They would rent out when they went to Gassin each year. David Niven came by to rent it once—his daughters were taking some course at Sotheby’s—and Mary was impressed that Niven appreciated the furniture in the house, which was quite old and eclectic. 

Jimmy felt that Niven's wife was bad news. "There's something wrong with that woman, I'd stake my life on it," he told me. He said he'd followed her around during their tour of the house fearing she might steal something. Jimmy christened me his American grandson and there was an aspect of this to our friendship. 

The advice he offered me about life and a career and what sort of people to avoid, etc., was extremely helpful, as I had little of this from my own tenuous homefront. Looking back I can see that Jimmy saw me partly as the son he never had. Just a great guy.