Thomas Jefferson's Killer Sheep

Artist's rendition

For generations, Thomas Jefferson was one of our most revered presidents. He wrote the Declaration of Independence and invented stuff. He looms over us from atop Mount Rushmore. But Jefferson isn't quite as widely beloved anymore. People have started to care about things like his having owned slaves while simultaneously declaring that all men are created equal, and the recent Hamilton resurgence probably hasn't helped his image much (although he does know his way around a rap battle).

If hypocrisy and Hamilton-shaming aren't reasons enough to dislike Thomas Jefferson, perhaps his murderous sheep is. (Incidentally, if I ever own a racehorse, I'm naming it "Thomas Jefferson's Killer Sheep.")

Besides murder, Thomas Jefferson's history with sheep also involves international intrigue, smuggling, fraud, and market-cornering. If you spice it up a little (mmmm...spiced lamb...), it could almost make an interesting movie, if movies about sheep are your thing. You can read about it in detail here. (The article is very long but it contains some great gems, like the opening line: "In the summer of 1793, Thomas Jefferson was thinking about sheep." Later it discusses how "[h]e soothed the pain of disputes with Alexander Hamilton with the study of the new husbandry..." I love the visual of Jefferson sobbing over Hamilton's snubs while simultaneously thinking about sheep having sex. I don't know, maybe Jefferson's sheep actually make him more likable.)

But anyway, let's talk about one particular sheep of Jefferson's: the one that murdered someone while he (Jefferson, not the sheep) was president. This Shetland ram was territorial, ornery, and aggressive, kind of like James K. Polk. Let's assume the sheep's name was James. Jefferson was really excited about James, because he was sure that his (the sheep's, not Jefferson's) coveted Shetland wool would bring in a fortune. In between his duties running the country, Jefferson kept sending off samples of wool to confirm he had a fine specimen. Several experts analyzed the ram's wool and declared the quality "crap," possibly using different terms.

While producing inferior wool, James and the other sheep would graze on the square outside the White House. Back then there weren't fences and security zones around the president's home, so people could---and would---just meander through the grounds. No biggie, unless there happened to be a killer animal on the loose.

Like James Madison, James the Sheep was small but mighty. Unlike James Madison, who fled when people (*cough*TheBritish*cough*) approached the White House, James the Sheep stood his ground and attacked. Despite his diminutive size, he hurt one man so badly that it took six weeks for the man to recover. Yet that pales in comparison to the young boy who the sheep killed. There doesn't seem to be much information about the boy or the incident, but can you imagine what would happen these days if a president's animal attacked someone? Like if Socks the Cat contracted rabies and bit a kid during the White House Easter Egg Hunt? I mean, Teddy Roosevelt kept a freaking badger in the White House and the worst it did was nibble at people's ankles. Even John Quincy Adams' and Herbert Hoover's alligators managed not to kill anyone.

Of course, when Jefferson learned that his ram had killed a young child, he had the animal destroyed immediately. No, just kidding! It wasn't until later at Monticello, when the ram killed three valuable lambs---including its own offspring---that Jefferson finally had him put down. Priorities, you know.

So there you have the story of Thomas Jefferson's killer sheep. Make sure you work that into your Fourth of July banter this year!

Speaking of the Fourth of July, make sure to enter my Fourth of July Giveaway: A copy of Lafayette in the Somewhat United States autographed by Sarah Vowell.

NYC History Tour, Part 2: Random Presidents and Stuff

Welcome to Part 2 of Presidentress' historical tour of New York!

You'll remember from Part 1 of my tour that people like rubbing, licking, and otherwise posing with the Bull of Wall Street's testicles. Well, across the street from the bull's balls is the old U.S. Customs House, where Chester A. Arthur served as Collector of Customs, a highly coveted position bestowed upon him thanks to the strong New York spoils system. I forgot to take a picture of it, though.

Sort of related, in the sense that it involves money and power, is where we ate lunch on the first day of our tour. There is now a Bobby Van's Steakhouse in the lobby of the old J. P. Morgan bank. In the basement, which used to be the bank's vaults, is the Vault Grill. One of the private rooms (which also does double-duty as a wine cellar) was J. P.'s own private vault, and that's where we ate. Since my love for Robber Barons rivals my love for presidents, this was an awesome experience.

We walked off our lunch by visiting several other sites, including Cooper Union, where Lincoln gave his famous Cooper Union speech.

Speaking of Lincoln, we also stopped by Gramercy Park, where there's a statue of Edwin Booth, brother of John Wilkes. Edwin lived in Gramercy Park and was a famous Shakespearean actor. His home is now the location of the Players Club that he founded.

I didn't get a photo of it (because I didn't realize it was there at the time), but Samuel Tilden also owned a house in Gramercy Park. You'll remember Tilden from such disputes as the Election of 1876 and the Compromise of 1877. Also from the cake I made a couple months ago. Tilden's house is now home to the National Arts Club and is located just a couple doors down from Edwin Booth's old abode.

We also stopped by the New York Police Department's former headquarters, where Teddy Roosevelt was Police Commissioner. The building now contains private condos, so we couldn't go in.

Then we walked by Roosevelt's childhood home, which we also couldn't go into because it's closed for renovations. (Thankfully we knew this ahead of time or else I would have been crushed.)

Our next stop was Tammany Hall, home of the famous/infamous political machine. Most recently it served as an art school, but apparently it is now undergoing major renovations as well.

We also somewhat unexpectedly stumbled upon a statue of William Seward. Seward was Secretary of State under Lincoln and Andrew Johnson, and is probably best known for Seward's Folly, or the

purchase of Alaska. What many people don't know is that he was also targeted for assassination the night Lincoln was killed.

John Wilkes Booth's plan was that while he was busy killing Lincoln, two other people would kill Secretary of State Seward and Vice President Johnson, thus upending the Executive Branch. Only one of the plots wound up successful. The guy who was supposed to kill Johnson chickened out, and Lewis Powell, the guy who was supposed to kill Seward, tried but failed. His gun misfired, so he wound up pistol-whipping Seward's son and then stabbed Seward several times, but Seward survived. (If you want to learn more about Seward and the assassination attempt, make sure to read Sarah Vowell's Assassination Vacation. I can't wait to hunt down the Seward Plaque in D.C.)

I did a little more digging and learned that there was some controversy surrounding Seward's statue. The same sculptor had previously created a statue of Lincoln, and some people claim that the artist simply recycled Lincoln's body and slapped Seward's head on top.

Incidentally, my New York friend said that people often steal the quill from Seward's hand, so we were lucky to find it intact.

And speaking of statues, on Day Two of our tour, we hit (figuratively) Columbia University and saw

the building where Lou Gehrig used to hit (literally) Columbia University. (There were no baseball fields, so he did the best he could, which involved accidentally breaking windows with his home runs.) That area is just a stone's throw (if you're Gehrig) from a forlorn statue of Thomas Jefferson.

Apparently the statue, bequeathed by the estate of Joseph Pulitzer, was supposed to be installed in New York's City Hall Park near a statue of Nathan Hale. But Hale's sculptor didn't want another statue there, so the plan was foiled. Instead, the Jefferson's statue was relegated to a courtyard in front of Columbia's Graduate School of Journalism, where it's not visible from the street and no one but J-School grad students and weird people searching for presidential relics will find it. Poor Thomas.

Apparently there is also a statue of Alexander Hamilton on the Columbia campus, but I didn't learn about that until just now, so I didn't seek it out.

After Jefferson, we walked several blocks to Grant's Tomb. My New York friend had never been inside so it was something new for all of us. The building itself is lovely, but it's surrounded by a strange art installment: a series of garish mosaic benches that pay homage to everything from Smokey Bear to seahorses. They were cool but felt out of place at Grant's Tomb.

Anyway, I'm a big Grant fan, so it was nice to be able to pay my respects. (Yeah, "paying respects" and taking a selfie...they don't have to be mutually exclusive.)

My BFF and I also attended a Broadway show and afterward we met Jeff Daniels, one of my very favorite actors. I'm including that tidbit here partly to brag but also because I've featured Jeff Daniels in two presidential-ish Separated at Births: William Jennings Bryan and William Henry Harrison.

William Jennings Bryan/Jeff Daniels

William Henry Harrison/Jeff Daniels

Thus concludes Presidentress' historical tour of New York. There are dozens and dozens of other presidential (and related) sites I didn't get to see, so I might need to go back. If you're in the area, seek out some of the places I've mentioned here, and feel free to share your finds. Happy travels!

Cooking with the Presidents: Thomas Jefferson's Meat

I posted the other day about the Tilden Cake I made for our Presidents Day Eve/Valentines/My Mom's Birthday celebration. Before we dug into the cake, though, we needed a meal, and since it was Presidents Day and all, I wanted something presidential. Unfortunately, most of the recipes I have are gross. Lots of fish and turtle and stuff.

One of the few appetizing recipes I could find was Thomas Jefferson's Beef a la Mode from The Presidents' Own White House Cookbook, given to me by my aunt.. ("A la mode" in this case meaning "in fashion," not "topped with ice cream.")

Now, my mom is a huge fan of Alexander Hamilton (and has been forever---long before the Hamilton musical became the hottest thing since Hercules Mulligan's pants), ergo she hates Thomas Jefferson. Like, despises him. So her birthday celebration took an ironic turn. (Still, one has to agree that Jefferson's Beef a la Mode is a better option than Zachary Taylor's Coon-and-Squirrel Deep Dish Pie, which is a real recipe from The Presidents' Cookbook.)

Jefferson's Beef a la Mode is basically pot roast. Pot roast with lots of bacon.

Here's the recipe:

4-lb beef pot roast
1 onion, finely chopped
1 sprig parsley, finely chopped
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. ground pepper
1/8 tsp. grated nutmeg
1/4 tsp. ground thyme
12 strips bacon
3 small onions
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 tsp. grated nutmeg
Pinch of ground thyme
4 oz brandy
1 c. white wine

Take four strips of bacon and use them to line the bottom of a Dutch oven.

Next, you're supposed to trim off (but reserve) the fat from the pot roast. Then you mix together the next six ingredients and roll the reserved fat and 4 strips of bacon in it. Now, my pot roast didn't have much fat on it, so there wasn't really anything to remove (at least not without deconstructing the whole thing.) Therefore I rolled the bacon, but no fat, in the mixture.

When you're done rolling your bacon and fat, it's time to lard your meat. I'll admit I didn't actually know what it meant to "lard" my meat. I assumed it meant wrapping the meat with stuff, so that's what I did: I draped the mixture-encrusted bacon on the beef. (More on this momentarily.)

The next step says to lay 4 or 5 more strips of bacon on the meat, which seemed redundant since I'd just done that, but fine: more bacon! Then set the whole thing in the Dutch oven.

Then you cut the onions and carrots and throw them in. Instead of three small onions, I used one large one. I also used six carrots because I love carrots. I added the onions at the beginning, but I waited until the last hour of cooking to add the carrots because otherwise they'd get too mushy, in my opinion.

Add the rest of the ingredients over top, and simmer gently for three hours.

When it's done, strain the liquid through a sieve, and serve.


Let's get back to this larding issue. Once I had my pot roast simmering, I sat down and googled "larding." (Someday I'll learn to research stuff before I start making recipes.) It turns out that larding is the process of adding extra fat to meat using special larding needles, or by making strategic slices and shoving stuff in. The end result is a more tender meat since it has all that extra fat in it. Clearly that's a bit more involved than what I had imagined, and clearly it's not what I had done. Oh well.

The end result was a quite tasty pot roast. The brandy, wine, and bacon made for a savory sauce, and the carrots were perfectly cooked after their mere hour in there. The meat, though, was a bit dry. I probably should have larded it.

No one seemed to mind much, though. My kids ate their meal without complaining, and not just because they knew there was cake waiting.

Hamilton: The Musical

Several months ago, a friend told me about Hamilton, a largely hip-hop musical about, obviously, the life of Alexander Hamilton. The show debuted Off-Broadway in February and then on Broadway in August. I thought the idea sounded awesome, of course, but until I heard the soundtrack last week I didn't realize just how awesome it is.

I've listened to the soundtrack five or six times in the past week, and I keep finding various songs from it stuck in my head. The good news is that you can also get these songs stuck in your head---for free! They're all available on YouTube, or you can stream the soundtrack for free if you have Amazon Prime. Or buy it. But listen to it somehow, because the lyrics are intelligent, the music is fantastic, and the songs tell a thorough story on their own, without your needing to see the performance (which I'd love to do sometime, but that involves going to New York).

If you don't have time to listen to all 46 tracks right now, here are some of my favorites.

This is one of the first numbers, taking place on the eve of the Revolution. It's kind of long but it's catchy and sets up a recurring theme. Alexander Hamilton says, "I'm not throwing away my shot," in this case referring to his chance to take part in the uprising. But the idea of not throwing away one's shot recurs through the musical, sometimes figuratively and sometimes more literally, referring to the act of someone shooting his gun far off-target in a duel. (No spoilers!)

My favorite numbers might be the ones performed by King George III, who comes off as a jilted ex-boyfriend. This one, in a more pop-music style than the other songs, is a hilarious love letter to the colonies, claiming that they'll soon realize their mistake and return to him:

Finally (for this post, not for the musical), I like how this number does such a good job expressing the animosity between Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson. Plus it actually makes interesting the debate about whether or not the federal government should assume the states' debt:

Seriously, if more of American history were presented as a rap battle, people wouldn't find it so boring.

Now go listen to the rest.

My Favorite Presidents

You'd think "Who's your favorite president?" is something I get asked a lot, but it isn't. Mostly people ask "Why presidents?" in the same incredulous tone they use when asking why I moved from Southern California to Northern Illinois.

So, you didn't ask but I'm going to answer anyway, about my favorite president at least. (As for why the obsession, I have no answer. As for the California-Illinois thing, that's a discussion for another day.)

The truth is that I have a few favorites. In no particular order, they are:

Abraham Lincoln

This one seems kind of obvious. When people discuss the greatest presidents, Lincoln is always at or near the top, although I don't see how he can ever be rated lower than number one. Abraham Lincoln is like Babe Ruth. Babe Ruth is the greatest baseball player of all time. Not Mantle, not Mays, not Williams, not DiMaggio. It's Ruth. And it's Lincoln. It just is.

That's not to say that "the best" always has to be "the favorite" (Babe Ruth isn't my favorite baseball player), but Lincoln is definitely part of the three-way tie for my favorite.

Theodore Roosevelt

I'm a little conflicted on TR's presidency because I'm not just a fan of presidents; I'm also a fan of turn-of-the-century business moguls. (I totally need to make another blog called RobberBaroness.com.) Teddy as Trust-Buster caused some of my favorite historical figures to be pitted against one another, and that's uncomfortable but also kind of awesome. He was more hawkish than I'd like, but his administration did result in several important reforms.

More than anything, though, he was a fascinating human being. The guy taxidermied his own animals as a kid. He wrote several books, including a history of the War of 1812, just for fun. He overcame severe asthma to become a star athlete, and was partially blinded in one eye while boxing...when he was president. And there was the whole Rough Rider thing. And he was president. And so very, very, very much more. 

The guy was truly the most interesting man in the world. Wait, I feel a meme coming on.

There we go.

William Howard Taft

Remember I said that "favorite" and "best" don't always align? No one will ever accuse Taft of being among the greatest presidents, and it's not Taft's presidency that landed him on this list. Instead, it's because of his character, and also because I've always felt bad for him. Everyone knows he's the "fat guy," but most people don't know he was also Chief Justice of the Supreme Court (after he was president). Supreme Court Justice is the role he always aspired to, and he sort of got thrust into the whole presidential thing against his will. He didn't like acting as a politician and he didn't want to be president. In many ways, he was too principled to succeed in politics, which is probably why he didn't.