Saturday, 17 October 2015

Men of Yore: Charles Martin Hall

 This is another in a series of posts about men from history who have either achieved great things in one form or another by pushing boundaries: either in themselves or in society or science or exploration of some form. Boundary pushing and growth is what men do, it's their nature: to grow and push outwards. We, as men, are the frontiers men, the first to discover/uncover new territory, in a metaphysical sense (i.e. including both material and the immaterial) that is later colonised and 'civilised' by the rest of humanity. 

Charles Martin Hall


Charles Martin Hall (December 6, 1863 – December 27, 1914) was an American inventor, businessman, and chemist. He is best known for his invention in 1886 of an inexpensive method for producing aluminum, which became the first metal to attain widespread use since the prehistoric discovery of iron. He was one of the founders of ALCOA.[1][2] Alfred E. Hunt, together with Charles Hall and a group of five other individuals including his partner at the Pittsburgh Testing Laboratory, George Hubbard Clapp, his chief chemist, W.S. Sample, Howard Lash, head of the Carbon Steel Company, Millard Hunsiker, sales manager for the Carbon Steel Company, and Robert Scott, a mill superintendent for the Carnegie Steel Company, Hunt raised $20,000 to launch the Pittsburgh Reduction Company which was later renamed Aluminum Company of America and shortened to Alcoa.

 

Early years

Charles Martin Hall was born to Herman Bassett Hall and Sophronia H. Brooks on December 6, 1863 in Thompson, Ohio.[3] Charles' father Herman graduated from Oberlin College in 1847, and studied for three years at the Oberlin Theological Seminary, where he met his future wife. They married in 1849, and the next ten years were spent in missionary work in Jamaica, where the first five of their eight children were born.[4] They returned to Ohio in 1860, when the outbreak of the Civil War forced the closing of foreign missions. Charles Hall had two brothers and five sisters; one brother died in infancy. One of his sisters was chemist Julia Brainerd Hall (1859–1925), who helped him in his research.[5][6][7]
Hall began his education at home, and was taught to read at an early age by his mother.[4] At the age of six, he was using his father's 1840's college chemistry book as a reader.[8] At age 8, he entered public school, and progressed rapidly.
His family moved to Oberlin, Ohio in 1873. He spent three years at Oberlin High School, and a year at Oberlin Academy in preparation for college.[4] During this time he demonstrated his aptitude for chemistry and invention, carrying out experiments in the kitchen and the woodshed attached to his house. In 1880, at the age of 16, he enrolled at Oberlin College.[9]
Hall was encouraged in his scientific experiments, with ideas and materials from Professor Frank Fanning Jewett (1844–1926). Jewett received his undergraduate and some graduate training from Yale University. From 1883 – 1885, he studied chemistry at the University of Göttingen in Göttingen, Lower Saxony, Germany. There he met Friedrich Wöhler, and obtained a sample of aluminum metal. Upon return to the United States, Jewett spent a year assisting Wolcott Gibbs at Harvard University, then spent a further four years as Professor of Chemistry at the Imperial University of Tokyo in Japan. In 1890, he became the professor of chemistry and mineralogy at Oberlin College.
In his second term, Hall attended, with considerable interest, Professor Jewett's lecture on aluminum; it was here that Jewett displayed the sample of aluminum he had obtained from Wöhler, and remarked, "if anyone should invent a process by which aluminum could be made on a commercial scale, not only would he be a benefactor to the world, but would also be able to lay up for himself a great fortune."[9]

Discovery

His initial experiments in finding an aluminum reduction process were in 1881; he attempted, unsuccessfully, to produce aluminum from clay by smelting with carbon in contact with charcoal and potassium chlorate. He next attempted to improve the electrolytic methods previously established by investigating cheaper methods to produce aluminum chloride, again unsuccessfully. In his senior year, he attempted to electrolyse aluminum fluoride in water solution, but was unable to produce aluminum at the cathode.[2]
In 1884, after setting up a homemade coal-fired furnace and bellows in a shed behind the family home, he again tried to find a catalyst that would allow him to reduce aluminum with carbon at high temperatures: "I tried mixtures of alumina and carbon with barium salts, with cryolite, and with carbonate of sodium, hoping to get a double reaction by which the final result would be aluminum. I remember buying some metallic sodium and trying to reduce cryolite, but obtained very poor results. I made some aluminum sulphide but found it very unpromising as a source of aluminum then as it has been ever since.".[9]
He had to fabricate most of his apparatus and prepare his chemicals, and was assisted by his older sister Julia Brainerd Hall.[10][11][6] The basic invention involves passing an electric current through a bath of alumina dissolved in cryolite, which results in a puddle of aluminum forming in the bottom of the retort.[12] On July 9, 1886, Hall filed for his first patent. This process was also discovered at nearly the same time by the Frenchman Paul Héroult, and it has come to be known as the Hall-Héroult process.[2]
After failing to find financial backing at home, Hall went to Pittsburgh where he made contact with the noted metallurgist Alfred E. Hunt. They formed the Reduction Company of Pittsburgh which opened the first large-scale aluminum production plants. The Reduction Company later became the Aluminum Company of America, then Alcoa. Hall was a major stockholder, and became wealthy.[2]
The Hall-Héroult process eventually resulted in reducing the price of aluminum by a factor of 200, making it affordable for many practical uses. By 1900, annual production reached about 8,000 tons. Today, more aluminum is produced than all other non-ferrous metals combined.
Hall is sometimes suggested to be the originator of the American spelling of aluminum, but that spelling was used briefly by Humphry Davy in the early 1800s and was the spelling in Noah Webster’s Dictionary of 1828. "Aluminium" was used widely in the United States until 1895 or 1900, and "Aluminum" was not officially adopted by the American Chemical Society until 1925.[13] Hall's early patents use the spelling "aluminium".[14] In the United Kingdom and other countries using British spelling, only the spelling aluminium is now used. The spelling in virtually all other languages is analogous to the -ium ending.[13]
Hall continued his research and development for the rest of his life and was granted 22 US patents, most on aluminum production. He served on the Oberlin College Board of Trustees. He was vice-president of Alcoa until his death. He died unmarried and childless and was buried in Westwood Cemetery in Oberlin.[4] Hall left the vast majority of his fortune to charity. His generosity contributed to the establishment of the Harvard-Yenching Institute, a leading foundation dedicated to advancing higher education in Asia in the humanities and social sciences.[15]

Awards and honors

Hall won the Perkin Medal, the highest award in American industrial chemistry in 1911.[8][16] In 1997 the production of aluminum metal by electrochemistry discovered by Hall was designated as a National Historic Chemical Landmark by the American Chemical Society.[1]
Hall eventually became one of Oberlin College's most prominent benefactors, and an aluminum statue of him exists on the campus.[17] Because of its light weight, Hall's statue was once known for its frequent changes of location, often due to student pranks. Today the statue is glued to a large granite block and sits more permanently on the second floor of Oberlin's new science center, where students continue to decorate Hall with appropriate trappings on holidays and other occasions.[18]
The Jewett home is preserved in Oberlin as the Oberlin Heritage Center. The center features an exhibit called Aluminum: The Oberlin Connection, which includes a re-creation of Hall's 1886 woodshed experiment.[19] The Hall House is also preserved in Oberlin, although the woodshed was demolished long ago.[20]

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Martin_Hall


Aluminium smelting is just one of many simultaneous discoveries that have occured throughout history, and Simultaneous discoveries occur more often than you might think.  Here are a few of them:
Calculus:  Gottfried Liebniz and Isaac Newtown.
Theory of Evolution:  Charles Darwin and Alfred Wallace,

Discovery of Oxygen: Joseph Priestly and Antoine Lavoisier.
Aluminium Smelting:  Charles Hall and Paul-Louis-Toussaint Heroult.

That two people (sometimes) living in disconnected cultures that have evolved in (relative) isolation end up making inventions or discoveries at the same time is bizarre.  I've no idea why it pans out this way yet it certainly does.

Metaphysics aside though, the discovery that Charles Hall made has allowed us to make use of the most common non-ferrous metal on/in planet Earth.  And if someone can turn a formerly un-usable material into a highly usable material then he's alright by me.


[End.]

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

Men of Yore: Robert Randall

This is another in a series of posts about men from history who have either achieved great things in one form or another by pushing boundaries: either in themselves or in society or science or exploration of some form. Boundary pushing and growth is what men do, it's their nature: to grow and push outwards. We, as men, are the frontiers men, the first to discover/uncover new territory, in a metaphysical sense (i.e. including both material and the immaterial) that is later colonised and 'civilised' by the rest of humanity. 


Robert Randall (or more accurately, a statue of him located in Snug Harbour Cultural Center.)

RANDALL, Robert Richard, philanthropist, born in New Jersey about 1740; died in New York city, 5 June, 1801.

He was a son of Thomas Randall, who was one of the committee of 100 chosen to control the affairs of the city of New York in 1775.

In early life Robert appears to have followed the sea, and he became a merchant and shipmaster, in consequence of which he is generally styled captain.

Captain Randall became a member in 1771 of the Marine society of New York for the relief of indigent and distressed masters of vessels, their widows and orphan children, and in 1780 was elected a member of the chamber of commerce. In 1790 he purchased from Baron Poelnitz the property known as the Minto farm, or Minthorne, consisting of snore than twenty-one acres of land in what is now the 15th ward of New York city, the southern boundary of which was then the upper end of Broadway. This, together with four lots in the 1st ward of New York, and stocks valued at $10,000, he bequeathed to found the home called the Sailors' Snug Harbor, "for the purpose of maintaining aged, decrepit, and worn-out sailors." It was his intention to have the home erected on the family estate, but, in consequence of suits by alleged heirs, the control of the property was slot absolutely obtained until 1831. Meanwhile the growth of the city made it more advantageous to rent the farm and purchase a site elsewhere, and 130 acres were bought on Staten island near New Brighton. In October, 1831, the corner-stone was laid, and the dedication ceremonies took place two years later.

In 1834 Captain Randall's remains were removed to Staten island, and in 1884 a heroic statue of him, in bronze, by Augustus St. Gaudens, was unveiled, with appropriate ceremonies, on the lawn adjoining the buildings

At present (1888) the property has increased by purchase to 180 acres, on which there are eight large dormitory buildings capable of accommodating 1,000 men, besides numerous other buildings, thirty-eight in all, including a hospital, church, and residences for the officers.


Source: http://www.famousamericans.net/robertrichardrandall/

Nearly all of will grow old enough to retire with a head of grey hair and a few marbles rolling around upstairs.  But who will take care of us?  In the pre-industrial era that probably would have been done by the extended family, assuming that we were lucky enough to live to old age.  Nowadays though loadsa people are living into their 60s, 70s and even 80s, and this means that they have to be taken care of either by family, friends or relocated to a retirement home.

Retirement homes, just like everything else in the civilised world, had to be created ex-nihlo by men.  On this occasion it was Robert Randall who took it upon himself to found a retirement home called the 'Sailors Snug Harbor' which was intended for old, 'worn out' sailors, who would otherwise end up homeless or living in squalor.

And what's more is that he accomplished all of this using his own money that he had either inherited from his father or earned by his own hand.  There was no need for taxes and government spending here.  No siree!  Just a man with a head full of common sense and heart full of compassion.  Outstanding!


[End.]

Sunday, 27 September 2015

Men of Yore: Friedrich Koenig

This is another in a series of posts about men from history who have either achieved great things in one form or another by pushing boundaries: either in themselves or in society or science or exploration of some form. Boundary pushing and growth is what men do, it's their nature: to grow and push outwards. We, as men, are the frontiers men, the first to discover/uncover new territory, in a metaphysical sense (i.e. including both material and the immaterial) that is later colonised and 'civilised' by the rest of humanity. 

Friedrich Koenig

He was born at Eisleben on April 17, 1774, and, after attending school, was apprenticed to a printer of Leipzig and then worked as a journeyman. His first improvements were made in connexion with the ordinary hand press. To further his projects he came to England in 1806, and it was soon after this that he met his countryman, Andreas Friedrich Bauer (1783–1860), who possessed the mechanical skill Koeng lacked. Four patents were taken out between 1810 and 1814 and from these came the power-driven flat bed printing machine in which the paper was pressed against the type by a cylindrical roller. Through John Walter (1776–1847), two of Koenigs machines were installed for printing the Times, and with the appearance of the issue of November 28, 1814, a new era in newspaper production began. Koenigs success, however, was but the prelude to a long struggle against difficulties. Returning to Germany with Bauer in 1817, he founded a works for the building of printing machines at Oberzell near Würzburg, only to find it next to impossible to obtain properly skilled artisans. Five years indeed passed before the partners completed their first German printing machine, and throughout his life Koenig met with little but adversity. He died at Oberzell at the age of fifty-eight years. The business was carried on by Bauer and relations, and after-wards gained a wide reputation. The speed of an early Koenig machine was about two thousand sheets an hour. Improvements by Cowper and Applegarth raised the speed to 5,000—10,000 sheets an hour, the Hoes of America then built machines doubling the capacity and to-day the rate of printing is some fifty times as fast as that in 1814.

Source: http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v131/n3298/abs/131051d0.html

The ability to communicate ideas quickly, cheaply and conveniently (mass-media) is something we Westerners take for granted.  Radio, tv, the internet, wi-fi, smartphones, social media and all the rest has resulted in us being able to swim in a sea of information (with all the benefits & hazards it brings with it).  But this wasn't always the case.

Prior to Friedrich Koenigs revolutionary printing press all printing had to be done the same way that Gutenberg did it 300 years previously: one sheet at a time, and by hand.  It was slow and expensive.  Koenig had the genius idea of mechanising the process and making it cyclical, much like modern day production lines: which comprise a linear-progressive part (the coke bottle travelling along the linear conveyor belt) and multiple cyclical-repetitive parts (e.g. the bottle filling contraption, the bottle capping contraption, the bottle labelling contraption, all doing the same job over and over again).  This is precisely what Koenig did with his genius idea of using a roller as a method of printing repeatedly.

The result of his invention is of course the growth of the printed-press media (newspapers, journals, comics, magazines etc) and all the benefits that these things brought us.



P.S. The linear and cyclical elements in a production line are like the linear and cyclical elements in life: linear = masculine, cyclical = feminine.  For example the linear view of history tends towards the progressive view (history as forever improving), and the cyclical view of history tends towards the repetitive view (history as forever repeating e.g the Indian Yugas, or Oswald Spenglers cyclical view of history etc).


[End.]

Friday, 11 September 2015

Men of Yore: Carl Bosch

This is another in a series of posts about men from history who have either achieved great things in one form or another by pushing boundaries: either in themselves or in society or science or exploration of some form. Boundary pushing and growth is what men do, it's their nature: to grow and push outwards. We, as men, are the frontiers men, the first to discover/uncover new territory, in a metaphysical sense (i.e. including both material and the immaterial) that is later colonised and 'civilised' by the rest of humanity. 


Carl Bosch

Carl Bosch was born at Cologne on August 27, 1874, and grew up there. From 1894 to 1896 he studied metallurgy and mechanical engineering at the Technische Hochschule in Charlottenburg, but started reading chemistry at Leipzig University in 1896. He graduated under Professor Wislicenus with a paper on organic chemistry in 1898. He entered the employ of the Badische Anilin- und Sodafabrik, Ludwigshafen, Rhine as a chemist in April 1899 and participated actively in the development of the then new industry of synthetic indigo under the guidance of Dr. Rudolf Knietsch.

At the turn of the century Bosch became interested in the problem of the fixing of nitrogen and his first experiments in this field were done with metal cyanides and nitrides; in 1907 he started a pilot plant for the production of barium cyanide.

Bosch's opportunity for really large-scale work came when in 1908 the Badische Anilin- und Sodafabrik acquired the process of high-pressure synthesis of ammonia, which had been developed by Fritz Haber at the Technische Hochschule in Karlsruhe. Bosch was given the task of developing this process on a large industrial scale. This task involved the construction of plant and apparatus which would stand up to working at high gas pressure and high reaction temperatures. Haber's catalysts, osmium and uranium had to be replaced by a contact substance which would be both cheaper and more easily available. Bosch and his collaborators found the solution by using pure iron with certain additives. Further problems which had to be solved were the construction of safe high-pressurized blast furnaces, a cheap way of producing and cleaning the gases necessary for the synthesis of ammonia. Step by step Bosch went on to using increasingly larger manufacturing units and thus created the industry which deals with the production of synthetic ammonia according to the high-pressure process.

From this work resulted the second task of making the thus won ammonia available for use in industry and agriculture. Bosch succeeded in working out methods for the industrial production of nitrogen fertilizers, thus providing practically every country in the world with sufficient fertilizers for agricultural purposes. The Stickstoffwerke (Nitrogen works) in Oppau were opened in 1913, followed by the even larger Leunawerke near Merseburg in 1917, where the synthesis of methanol and the hydrogenation of oil were added to the production programme. Bosch was appointed Managing Director of the Badische Anilin- und Sodafabrik in 1919 and in 1925 was made Principal of the I.G. Farbenindustrie Aktiengesellschaft, which was created by the merger of the German coal-tar dye works. In 1935 Bosch was appointed Chairman of the Board of Directors of the I.G. Farbenindustrie A.G.

Bosch was honoured in many ways and not only for his achievements and inventions in the field of industry, but also for his research in pure science, which he considered to be his duty. He received the honorary doctorate of the Technische Hochschule in Karlsruhe (1918), of the Landwirtschaftliche Hochschule (Agriculture College), Berlin (1921), the Technische Hochschule in Munich (1922), of Halle University (1927), the Technische Hochschule in Darmstadt (1928). The distinctions of Honorary Senator of the Universities of Heidelberg (1922) and Leipzig (1939), and of Honorary Citizen of Frankfurt (1939) were conferred upon him.

He received the Liebig Memorial Medal of the Association of German Chemists, the Bunsen Medal of the German Bunsen Society, the Siemens Ring, the Golden Grashof Memorial Medal of the VDI (Association of German Engineers), the Exner Medal from the Austrian Trade Association, and the Carl Lueg Memorial Medal from the Association of German Metallurgists. In 1931 he was awarded the highest international honour, the Nobel Prize for Chemistry, jointly with Friedrich Bergius, for their contributions to the invention and development of chemical high pressure methods.

Bosch particularly enjoyed his membership of various German and foreign scientific academies, and his chairmanship of the Kaiser Wilhelm Society of which he became its President in 1937.

He died after a prolonged illness on April 26, 1940.

Source: http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/chemistry/laureates/1931/bosch-bio.html

Fooooood.  Some have too much of the stuff (the obese), some have the wrong sort (the diabetic), some waste it needlessly (a yuppie with bag of salad rotting in the bottom of the fridge), some throw the stuff around (kids at food fights), yet despite all of this wastage there's still plenty enough of the stuff to go around.  And 'why is that' I hear you cry?!  Why it's because of men like Carl Bosch, men who provide us all with ways of producing even more food.  Bosch co-invented the Haber-Bosch process which allows us to manufacture nitrogen fertilisers.  Nitrogen fertilisers which increase the yield of world food production by a significant factor: 'Conservative estimates report 30 to 50% of crop yields are attributed to natural or synthetic commercial fertilizer.'

Without men like Carl Bosch, John Deere, Turnip Townsend, Norman Borlaug (father of the 'Green Revolution') it's likely that many of us would be subsidence farmers toiling aways for a few bushels of grain, instead of living the luxurious existence that their innovations have allowed us.


[End.]

Monday, 7 September 2015

Alternative Lyrics to Well Known Songs 42 - Still Can't Get Laid

('Still Can't Get Laid' is based on 'All Around the World' by Lisa Stansfield)

This weeks 'alternative lyrics post' is a cautionary tale about one naive youngster who fell for Roosh V's spiel about 'game', the PUA lifestle, and how to score with women.

The youngster in this tale follows Roosh's advice down to the letter: he bought Roosh's book, flew out to Asia (where the so-called 'easy' women are), he adopted the 'Dark Triad' persona, etc etc, and despite this he still couldn't get laid.  Yet despite our heroes failure to score he blames himself for his failings and not Roosh's bad advice.  This is a sad fact about gurus (sex, orlifestyle, or personality, or business or whatever) that the people who follow them sometimes blame themselves for failing to succeed instead of blaming the guru and their duff advice.  Alas, it's just the way it is - the naive getting ripped off.  The unfortunate truth is that some folk have to learn the hard way - by first hand experience.

I don't know how to score with women, so I don't blog about it.  Roosh doesn't know about getting laid either (it costs him $6,500 per woman, and roughly 3-8 women per year), so he shouldn't blog about it either.  He should blog about microbiology and bacteria or whatever he did before become a full time shyster.  It would save a lot of men a lot of wasted time and effort.  Time and effort that they could spend on their own lives rather than throwing it away imitating some charlatan's fictional life.  Blogging about microbiology would also benefit Roosh because he would be informing the world of information about topics that he does know about rather than polluting the world with lies about topics that he doesn't know about.

Now, on to the music!  And before you say anything yes, yes, yes, I 'know' it 's a Lisa Stansfield track.  You don't need to rub it in.  "Lisa Stansfield!  What 'are' you thinking of?!" you say.  "I'm a child of the '80's..." I say, "...I can't help it!  It was everywhere when I was growing up: it was on the radio in the car, in the house, in the supermarket.  After a while it gets into your bones like a bad dose of radioactive fallout!"  On the up side it has provided me with the opportunity to write lyrics about social issues to pop-songs which are as cheesey as you like (which lightens the whole mood).

It has also taught me that young whipper-snappers learn song lyrics almost subconsciously, probably because of the emotion of the song (the music and the singers inflection); and they often learn those lyrics better than boring subjects that they are taught in school, again probably because of the presence of emotion (emotions are important in memory formation).  I'm sure you can all sing a verse or two of Don McCleans American Pie easy enough, but how many of you can remember what you learnt in eighth grade chemistry?  Difficult innit?!  That's emotions doing there thing: aiding the formation and recall of memories.


Play the music video above and sing along using the alternative lyrics given below.


# Still Can't Get Laid #
I don't know how to get laid.
But I know that, somewhere, somehow.
I'm gonna get lucky with Roosh's advice.
I'll never give up looking to get laid.

Been around the world and I, I, I.
I still can't get laid yeah.
I don't know yeah I don't know why.
Why I can't get laid.
'cos I did everything he told me, old Roosh V.
So it must be me.

I read his book, and I flew out West.
I followed his instructions, right down to the bone.
And I was oh oh so bad.
And I did the whole dark triad thing, mm mmm.
Roosh gave the reason, the reason to be bad.
And he said "being bad-ass is how to score."
And that he was oh oh so bad.
And that's how he got ho's in the sack, in the sack.

I couldn't score at home.
It was all forlorn.
Now I'm here in Bangkok, I, I, I..

Been around the world and I, I, I.
I still can't get laid yeah.
I don't know yeah I don't know why.
Why I can't get laid.
'cos I did everything he told me, old Roosh V.
So it must be me.

So much time wasted, in the wrong bars.
I was a fool, the biggest fool of all.
And now I'm oh oh so bad
Yet still can't score in the sack, in the sack.

I couldn't score at home.
It was all forlorn.
Now I'm here in Bangkok, I, I, I..

Been around the world and I, I, I.
I still can't get laid yeah.
I don't know yeah I don't know why.
Why I can't get laid.
'cos I did everything he told me, old Roosh V.
So it must be me.

Been around the world and I, I, I.
I still can't get laid yeah.
I don't know yeah I don't know why.
Why I can't get laid.
'cos I did everything he told me, old Roosh V.
So it must be me.
I need to find him, old Roosh V.

I couldn't score at home.
It was all forlorn.
Now I'm here in Bangkok, I, I, I..

Been around the world and I, I, I.
I still can't get laid yeah.
I don't know yeah I don't know why.
Why I can't get laid.
'cos I did everything he told me, old Roosh V.
So it must be me.


[End of lyrics.]

Friday, 4 September 2015

Men of Yore: Rowland Hill

This is another in a series of posts about men from history who have either achieved great things in one form or another by pushing boundaries: either in themselves or in society or science or exploration of some form. Boundary pushing and growth is what men do, it's their nature: to grow and push outwards. We, as men, are the frontiers men, the first to discover/uncover new territory, in a metaphysical sense (i.e. including both material and the immaterial) that is later colonised and 'civilised' by the rest of humanity. 


Rowland Hill


Sir Rowland Hill KCB, FRS (3 December 1795 – 27 August 1879) was an English teacher, inventor and social reformer. He campaigned for a comprehensive reform of the postal system, based on the concept of Uniform Penny Post and his solution of prepayment, facilitating the safe, speedy and cheap transfer of letters. Hill later served as a government postal official, and he is usually credited with originating the basic concepts of the modern postal service, including the invention of the postage stamp.

Early life

Hill was born in Blackwell Street, Kidderminster, Worcestershire, England. Rowland's father, Thomas Wright Hill, was an innovator in education and politics, including among his friends Joseph Priestley, Tom Paine and Richard Price.[1] At the age of 12, Rowland became a student-teacher in his father's school. He taught astronomy and earned extra money fixing scientific instruments. He also worked at the Assay Office in Birmingham[2] and painted landscapes in his spare time.[3]

Educational reform

In 1819 he moved his father's school "Hill Top" from central Birmingham, establishing the Hazelwood School at Edgbaston, an affluent neighbourhood of Birmingham, as an "educational refraction of Priestley's ideas".[4][5] Hazelwood was to provide a model for public education for the emerging middle classes, aiming for useful, pupil-centred education which would give sufficient knowledge, skills and understanding to allow a student to continue self-education through a life "most useful to society and most happy to himself".[6] The school, which Hill designed, included innovations including a science laboratory, a swimming pool, and forced air heating. In his Plans for the Government and Liberal Instruction of Boys in Large Numbers Drawn from Experience (1822, often cited as Public Education) he argued that kindness, instead of caning, and moral influence, rather than fear, should be the predominant forces in school discipline. Science was to be a compulsory subject, and students were to be self-governing.[3][7] Hazelwood gained international attention when French education leader and editor Marc Antoine Jullien, former secretary to Maximilien de Robespierre, visited and wrote about the school in the June 1823 issue of his journal Revue encyclopédique. Jullien even transferred his son there. Hazelwood so impressed Jeremy Bentham that in 1827 a branch of the school was created at Bruce Castle in Tottenham, London. In 1833, the original Hazelwood School closed and its educational system was continued at the new Bruce Castle School of which Hill was head master from 1827 until 1839.

Colonisation of South Australia

The colonisation of South Australia was a project of Edward Gibbon Wakefield, who believed that many of the social problems in Britain were caused by overcrowding and overpopulation. In 1832 Rowland Hill published a tract called Home colonies : sketch of a plan for the gradual extinction of pauperism, and for the diminution of crime, based on a Dutch model.[8] Hill then served from 1833 until 1839 as secretary of the South Australian Colonization Commission, which worked successfully to establish a settlement without convicts at what is today Adelaide. The political economist, Robert Torrens was chairman of the Commission.[9] Under the South Australia Act 1834, the colony was to embody the ideals and best qualities of British society, shaped by religious freedom and a commitment to social progress and civil liberties. Rowland Hill's sister Caroline Clark, husband Francis and their large family were to migrate to South Australia in 1850.[10]

Postal reform

Rowland Hill first started to take a serious interest in postal reforms in 1835.[11] In 1836 Robert Wallace, MP, provided Hill with numerous books and documents, which Hill described as a "half hundred weight of material".[12] Hill commenced a detailed study of these documents and this led him to the publication, in early 1837, of a pamphlet called Post Office Reform its Importance and Practicability. He submitted a copy of this to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Thomas Spring-Rice, on 4 January 1837.[13] This first edition was marked "private and confidential" and was not released to the general public. The Chancellor summoned Hill to a meeting in which the Chancellor suggested improvements, asked for reconsiderations and requested a supplement which Hill duly produced and supplied on 28 January 1837.[14]
 
In the 1830s at least 12½% of all British mail was conveyed under the personal frank of peers, dignitaries and members of parliament, while censorship and political espionage were conducted by postal officials. Fundamentally, the postal system was mismanaged, wasteful, expensive and slow. It had become inadequate for the needs of an expanding commercial and industrial nation.[15] There is a well-known story, probably apocryphal, about how Hill gained an interest in reforming the postal system; he apparently noticed a young woman too poor to redeem a letter sent to her by her fiancé. At that time, letters were normally paid for by the recipient, not the sender. The recipient could simply refuse delivery. Frauds were commonplace; for example, coded information could appear on the cover of the letter; the recipient would examine the cover to gain the information, and then refuse delivery to avoid payment. Each individual letter had to be logged. In addition, postal rates were complex, depending on the distance and the number of sheets in the letter.[16]

Richard Cobden and John Ramsey McCulloch, both advocates of free trade, attacked the policies of privilege and protection of the Tory government. McCulloch, in 1833, advanced the view that "nothing contributes more to facilitate commerce than the safe, speedy and cheap conveyance of letters."[17]
 
Hill's famous pamphlet, Post Office Reform: its Importance and Practicability, referred to above, was privately circulated in 1837. The report called for "low and uniform rates" according to weight, rather than distance. Hill's study reported his findings and those of Charles Babbage that most of the costs in the postal system were not for transport, but rather for laborious handling procedures at the origins and the destinations. Costs could be reduced dramatically if postage were prepaid by the sender, the prepayment to be proven by the use of prepaid letter sheets or adhesive stamps (adhesive stamps had long been used to show payment of taxes, on documents for example). Letter sheets were to be used because envelopes were not yet common; they were not yet mass-produced, and in an era when postage was calculated partly on the basis of the number of sheets of paper used, the same sheet of paper would be folded and serve for both the message and the address. In addition, Hill proposed to lower the postage rate to a penny per half ounce, without regard to distance.[18] He first presented his proposal to the Government in 1837.

In the House of Lords the Postmaster, Lord Lichfield, a Whig, denounced Hill's "wild and visionary schemes." William Leader Maberly, Secretary to the Post Office, also a Whig, denounced Hill's study: "This plan appears to be a preposterous one, utterly unsupported by facts and resting entirely on assumption". But merchants, traders and bankers viewed the existing system as corrupt and a restraint of trade. They formed a "Mercantile Committee" to advocate for Hill's plan and pushed for its adoption. In 1839 Hill was given a two-year contract to run the new system.

The Uniform Fourpenny Post rate was introduced that lowered the cost to fourpence from 5 December 1839,[20] then to the penny rate on 10 January 1840, even before stamps or letter sheets could be printed. The volume of paid internal correspondence increased dramatically, by 120%, between November 1839 and February 1840. This initial increase resulted from the elimination of "free franking" privileges and fraud.

[..] 
In May 1840 the World's first adhesive postage stamps were distributed. With an elegant engraving of the young Queen Victoria (whose 21st birthday was celebrated that month), the Penny Black was an instant success. Refinements, such as perforations to ease the separating of the stamps, were instituted with later issues.

Later life

Rowland Hill continued at the Post Office until the Conservative Party won the 1841 General Election. Sir Robert Peel returned to office on 30 August 1841 and served until 29 June 1846. Amid rancorous controversy, Hill was dismissed in July 1842. However, the London and Brighton Railway named him a director and later chairman of the board, from 1843 to 1846. He lowered the fares from London to Brighton, expanded the routes, offered special excursion trains, and made the commute comfortable for passengers. In 1844 Edwin Chadwick, Rowland Hill, John Stuart Mill, Lyon Playfair, Dr. Neill Arnott, and other friends formed a society called "Friends in Council," which met at each other's houses to discuss questions of political economy.[21] Hill also became a member of the influential Political Economy Club, founded by David Ricardo and other classical economists, but now including many powerful businessmen and political figures.[9]

In 1846 the Conservative party split over the repeal of the Corn Laws and was replaced by a Whig government led by Lord Russell. Hill was made Secretary to the Postmaster General, and then Secretary to the Post Office from 1854 until 1864. For his services Hill was knighted as a Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath in 1860. He was made a Fellow of the Royal Society and awarded an honorary degree from University of Oxford.

Hill died in Hampstead, London in 1879. He is buried in Westminster Abbey; there is a memorial to him on his family grave in Highgate Cemetery. There are streets named after him in Hampstead (off Haverstock Hill, down the side of The Royal Free Hospital), and Tottenham (off White Hart Lane). A Royal Society of Arts blue plaque, unveiled in 1893, commemorates Hill at the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead.[22]


Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rowland_Hill_(postal_reformer)
 

[End.]

Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Alternative Lyrics to Well Known Songs 41 - Old Oppressive Town

('Old Oppressive Town' is based on 'Hazard' by 'Richard Marx')


Cities can principally be used as centres of production & perspicacity or centres of consumption & comfort.  The former tends towards the masculine and the latter tends towards the feminine.

The character of a city is decided by the people living in it.  After all they are the ones that that built it and sustain it (repairs etc) with their energy.  If the inhabitants of a city are the kind of people that want to do things and go places then it will become masculine and will produce new things (tangible things like are produced in factories, or intangible things like are produced in research facilities), on the other hand if the inhabitants want to use the city as a form of escapism/security from their mundane everyday lives then it will become feminine.

Unfortunately as all of you are aware the centres of our cities are now meccas for consumption and comfort.  The High Street (or Main Street in the USA) is full of shops stocked with the latest goodies imported from third world countries.  Little in that high street shop contains anything that was manufactured from the home nation; and practically nothing that was sourced from that town or county.  If that city were more masculine then the shops would be factory-shops, like European cities used to be, where goods were both manufactured and sold.  This should be easier than ever as the technology to manufacture goods is getting cheaper and cheaper.  And now with the arrival of 3-D printers (both plastic, metal, and genetic printers) manufacturing goods in the same shop as they are sold should be easy as pie.  It would also mean that the goods could be custom made (but 3-D printers in factory-shops is a whole other topic, so I won't ramble on about it).

There are also shopping centres/malls in the heart of every medium and large city which are like theme parks for shopping.  They house the proverbial 'shopping experience' whereby people go and experience the pleasure of looking at the latest products, the latest goodies, which temporarily distract them from their lives.  Sometimes this comfort shopping, or worse still window shopping (just looking at goods), is used as a form of escapism. 

Escapism implies that they the shopper is trying using the shopping experience to escape from their own lives that they'd rather not live (albeit for a short period of time, roughly the same period of time as a heroin trip: about 2 hours ).  And it makes one wonder why they are trying to escape their own lives, what is it that is so insufferable that they go into a theme park for shoppers and ogle at the latest goodies in the shop aisle?

It's possibly the fact that their lives are, for want of a better phrase, messed-up.  "Messed up by what?" you say, "I don't know." I would reply.  I know enough about causes to know that reductionism isn't going to help you very much because it inevitably ends up with an absurd conclusion (like Marxism, or Satan, or 'not getting laid', or high interest rates, is responsible for all the problems in the world).  Just look around the internet for what people think is the cause of problem X, Y and Z, there's lots of whacked out theories out there.  The result of rejecting the reductionist approach and taking on a holistic outlook is that correlations and intuition/hunches become as valuable, or sometimes more valuable, than causes.

In a healthy city they would be making new products (either in the work place or at home or both) and thinking new thoughts.  These new products and thoughts would be things that they had made because they wanted to.  Because they wanted to express their own creative drive in it's unique way rather than conform to the norm, the expected way of living.

How one can remedy this feminisation of whole cities in our culture is beyond me.  But what I do know is that cities are made by the inhabitants, and they are sustained by inhabitants.  So based on that preposition one method of turning a feminine city back into a masculine one it by encouraging the inhabitants to express their own creative drive wherever and whenever the opportunity arises.  This way they will be producers rather than consumers and more masculine than feminine.  Whether that creative drive is expressed is in the workplace, or in the homestead, or in the environment doesn't matter, so long as it is expressed.  This will not only benefit the individual (who should feel more satisfied with their life) it should also benefit the community and ergo the city as a whole.


A note on the lyrics: the song is about a person who used the city in a feminine way - as a form of security, because he found the outside world too intimidating.  After a few years he found it's security to be oppressive and ended up moving back out into the countryside.  The song is framed within the context of the Nordic mythology.  It mentions Midgard (which is the 'middle world' where humans live), and Al-father (which is the 'All-Father', one of Odins many by-names).


Play the music video above and sing along using the alternative lyrics given below.


# Old Oppressive Town #
All-Father made me alive in that place called Midgard.
It was day and the whole place was alive with joy.
But then came night.
After midnight is when it started to get scary
The whole place changed from one of comfort to fear.
It gave me the frights.

I couldn't stand to face the fear.
I couldn't stand to feel the dark.
I needed comfort from those feelings.
That's when I saw this place called 'Town'.

I entered the Town some day or another.
It seemed like bliss and comfort from my former life.
That changed in time.
Routinely accused of breaking their laws.
The years flew passed and that's when it became clear to me
I could do no right.

"I swear I lived my life by your laws.
I swear I never did you wrong.
Despite this you're intent on judging me.
So I'll leave your old oppressive Town."

I think about my life gone by
and how I did me wrong.
I traded my Father's free life
for one of safety yet one of oppression.

"I swear I abided by all your laws.
I swear I never did you wrong.
Despite this you're intent on judging me.
So I'll leave your old oppressive Town."


[End of lyrics.]

Friday, 28 August 2015

Men of Yore: Ludwig van Beethoven

This is intended to be a series of posts about men from history who have either achieved great things in one form or another by pushing boundaries: either in themselves or in society or science or exploration of some form. Boundary pushing and growth is what men do, it's their nature: to grow and push outwards. We, as men, are the frontiers men, the first to discover/uncover new territory, in a metaphysical sense (i.e. including both material and the immaterial) that is later colonised and 'civilised' by the rest of humanity.

Ludwig van Beethoven


The events of Beethoven's life are the stuff of Romantic legend, evoking images of the solitary creator shaking his fist at Fate and finally overcoming it through a supreme effort of creative will. Born in the small German city of Bonn on or around December 16, 1770, he received his early training from his father and other local musicians. As a teenager, he earned some money as an assistant to his teacher, Christian Gottlob Neefe, then was granted half of his father's salary as court musician from the Electorate of Cologne in order to care for his two younger brothers as his father gave in to alcoholism. Beethoven played viola in various orchestras, becoming friends with other players such as Antoine Reicha, Nikolaus Simrock, and Franz Ries, and began taking on composition commissions. As a member of the court chapel orchestra, he was able to travel some and meet members of the nobility, one of whom, Count Ferdinand Waldstein, would become a great friend and patron to him. Beethoven moved to Vienna in 1792 to study with Haydn; despite the prickliness of their relationship, Haydn's concise humor helped form Beethoven's style. His subsequent teachers in composition were Johann Georg Albrechtsberger and Antonio Salieri. In 1794, he began his career in earnest as a pianist and composer, taking advantage whenever he could of the patronage of others. Around 1800, Beethoven began to notice his gradually encroaching deafness. His growing despondency only intensified his antisocial tendencies. However, the Symphony No. 3, "Eroica," of 1803 began a sustained period of groundbreaking creative triumph. In later years, Beethoven was plagued by personal difficulties, including a series of failed romances and a nasty custody battle over a nephew, Karl. Yet after a long period of comparative compositional inactivity lasting from about 1811 to 1817, his creative imagination triumphed once again over his troubles. Beethoven's late works, especially the last five of his 16 string quartets and the last four of his 32 piano sonatas, have an ecstatic quality in which many have found a mystical significance. Beethoven died in Vienna on March 26, 1827.  

Beethoven's epochal career is often divided into early, middle, and late periods, represented, respectively, by works based on Classic-period models, by revolutionary pieces that expanded the vocabulary of music, and by compositions written in a unique, highly personal musical language incorporating elements of contrapuntal and variation writing while approaching large-scale forms with complete freedom. Though certainly subject to debate, these divisions point to the immense depth and multifariousness of Beethoven's creative personality. Beethoven profoundly transformed every genre he touched, and the music of the nineteenth century seems to grow from his compositions as if from a chrysalis. A formidable pianist, he moved the piano sonata from the drawing room to the concert hall with such ambitious and virtuosic middle-period works as the "Waldstein" (No. 21) and "Appassionata" (No. 23) sonatas. His song cycle An die ferne Geliebte of 1816 set the pattern for similar cycles by all the Romantic song composers, from Schubert to Wolf. The Romantic tradition of descriptive or "program" music began with Beethoven's "Pastoral" Symphony No. 6. Even in the second half of the nineteenth century, Beethoven still directly inspired both conservatives (such as Brahms, who, like Beethoven, fundamentally stayed within the confines of Classical form) and radicals (such as Wagner, who viewed the Ninth Symphony as a harbinger of his own vision of a total art work, integrating vocal and instrumental music with the other arts). In many ways revolutionary, Beethoven's music remains universally appealing because of its characteristic humanism and dramatic power.

Biography by

Source: http://www.allmusic.com/artist/ludwig-van-beethoven-mn0000536126/biography

Reading biographies can occasionally make one feel distant/disconnected from the person that we are learning about.  So that we percieve them from a distance rather than feeling as if we were in the same room with them experiencing them personally, emotionally.  This deficit of emotion can be remedied in certain instances though, for example if we can see the person moving around (to see whether they are a active-mobile sort or a passive-sedentary sort of person) or hear them talking (i.e. their inflection).  In the case of Beethoven though because he was a composer we can hear his music;  and because we can hear his music it means that we can experience the type of emotions that were flowing through his veins as he lived.  It may not be as good as speaking to the man in person but it'll have to do for now.

Here are a few snippets of his music.  And whatever you make of the emotions that the songs provoke within you (whether you like them or not) there's no denying that they are more provocative than songs by 21st century popstars like Coldplay, Kylie Minogue or Lady Gaga!


Ode to Joy:


 Fifth Symphony:


Moonlight Sonata:


[End.]

Saturday, 8 August 2015

Men of Yore: Dominique Larrey

This is intended to be a series of posts about men from history who have either achieved great things in one form or another by pushing boundaries: either in themselves or in society or science or exploration of some form. Boundary pushing and growth is what men do, it's their nature: to grow and push outwards. We, as men, are the frontiers men, the first to discover/uncover new territory, in a metaphysical sense (i.e. including both material and the immaterial) that is later colonised and 'civilised' by the rest of humanity.


Dominique Larrey



Born: July 8, 1766
Place of Birth: Beaudéan, Hautes-Pyrénées, France
Legion of Honor: Commander
Imperial Nobility: Baron
Died: May 25, 1842
Cause of Death: Illness
Place of Death: Lyon, France
Arc de Triomphe: LARREY on the south pillar

Dr. Larrey is credited with reforming the French army's medical procedures of the time and was renowned for his humane treatment of any wounded, regardless of nation. Honored by Napoleon, he was also friends with many French generals of the time, including Desaix, Lannes, Duroc, and Drouot.

Beginnings

The son of a shoemaker, Dominique-Jean Larrey began his medical career when his father died and he was sent to live with his uncle who was a surgeon. Trained as a surgeon, he served aboard a ship for a brief time but by the time of the Revolution he had arrived in Paris. Believing in the ideals of the Revolution, Larrey led a group of medical students and took part in the storming of the Bastille. During the violent days of the Revolution, he practiced his skills and became convinced of the need to immediately amputate if necessary, instead of the tradition of delaying the surgery. In the meantime he met his sweetheart Charlotte Laville whom he would later marry in 1794.
 
In 1792 Larrey received a position with the Army of the Rhine and traveled to Strasbourg. After witnessing the speed at which the horse-drawn artillery could move on a battlefield, he proposed to General Custine the construction of a similar system, an ambulance to transport wounded soldiers from the battlefield for medical treatment. General Custine, anxious to not appear to be ignoring the plights of citizen soldiers, approved Larrey's plans. Initially the ambulance was a simple horse-drawn cart which Larrey led into battle to save the lives of wounded soldiers. Despite being exposed to danger, he worked tirelessly to rescue soldiers, sometimes participating in combat. At one battle in 1793, a group of French soldiers began to run away from the battle. Larrey drew his sword and charged after them, yelling at them for so cowardly leaving their comrades to fight while they ran, and this act convinced them to return to the battle. Later during the same battle, seeing four wounded soldiers being stripped of valuables by the Prussians, Larrey led a charge of his dragoon escort against the Prussians, and rescued the soldiers. The wounded were loaded into his ambulances and escorted to the rear, where he operated on them and saved all their lives.
 
In 1797 General Bonaparte requested Larrey be attached to the Army of Italy. During this time, he began to establish a clear policy on the ambulances. In the midst of battle and at risk to themselves, teams of his ambulances would hurry around the battlefield, picking up the wounded whose lives might be saved, and transporting them to the rear of battle where they could be operated upon. While at times his teams would perform first aid right there in the middle of the battle, the most critically wounded were usually retrieved and taken to relative safety before operating on them. This kept the best surgeons safely out of harm's way and able to perform their duties at stations set up specifically for saving lives. Overall, his system of transporting wounded soldiers away from the battlefield significantly reduced death rates, as almost all critically wounded soldiers were operated on within 24 hours, oftentimes before the battle was even over.

Expedition to Egypt

The next year Larrey was appointed Surgeon-in-Chief to the expedition to Egypt. As the army disembarked from its long voyage west of Alexandria, General Maximillien Cafffarelli du Falga unfortunately got his wooden leg caught in the rigging and fell overboard. Larrey immediately dove into the water after him, and drug him to the beach, saving his life. Later that month at the Battle of the Pyramids, as during all times, Larrey was willing to treat enemy wounded. One wounded mameluke came to the French for help, and Larrey treated his wound. Thankful, the man gave Larrey a brilliant ruby ring, which he wore until it was taken from him at Waterloo.
 
Before the army began its march in Syria, Larrey noticed the plight of some English prisoners of war who had been captured when their ship ran aground. Held in deplorable conditions, Larrey asked General Dupas to improve their treatment, but he refused. Undeterred, Larrey went to General Bonaparte and told him of their conditions, and Bonaparte allowed for the men to be returned to the English on the grounds that they had not directly fought the French.
 
As the army besieged Jaffa, one day an Egyptian entertainer who was caught in a skirmish came to the temporary French hospital for treatment. After treating him, Larrey noticed his pet monkey, the man's companion and his livelihood, was also wounded and he offered to patch it up. With tears streaming down his face from happiness at this unexpected gentleness and generosity, the man accepted and held the monkey while Larrey bandaged it up. The monkey returned many times to have its bandages replaced, and each time would run up and hug Larrey.
 
One evening during the siege of Acre, senior officers including General Bonaparte and Dr. Larrey were invited to General Verdier's quarters for a dinner. As everyone but Larrey had arrived, Madame Verdier began to signal that dinner would be served, as it would be rude to keep General Bonaparte waiting. Napoleon insisted that dinner not start without Larrey, to which the Verdiers replied that Larrey was at the hospital and no one knew when his work would be completed. Bonaparte continued to insist that they wait for him, and the dinner finally went ahead when Larrey arrived an hour later. 
Later during the fighting at Acre, Arrighi de Casanova arrived at the front only to be hit by a ball that passed through his neck. Blood splurting everywhere, he fell to the ground, and a soldier rushed to him and put a finger in each hole on the sides of his neck, slowing the bleeding. Dr. Larrey was called for, and he quickly applied bandages while ignoring the shots falling all around them, saving Arrighi de Casanova's life. Larrey didn't even bother to look up from his patient when his hat was shot off. 
Napoleon decided to leave Egypt and return to France, and Larrey was one of the select few chosen to accompany Napoleon. Larrey informed Napoleon that if Napoleon insisted he would return with him, but in his opinion the army needed him more than the general did. Napoleon accepted Larrey's suggestion, and Larrey stayed in Egypt. After the French surrendered in August of 1801, Larrey returned to France to receive the position of Surgeon-in-Chief to the Consular Guard. With Napoleon becoming Emperor, Larrey became the Chief Surgeon to the Imperial Guard, and was rewarded as an Officer of the Legion of Honor.

Battle of Eylau

Over the next few years, Larrey fulfilled his duties in treating the wounded during the campaigns across Europe. Before the Battle of Eylau in 1807, Caulaincourt attempted to commandeer the building Larrey had set up as a hospital for the Emperor's quarters. Larrey refused to surrender his hospital, and Caulaincourt threatened to go to Napoleon, to which Larrey replied, "As you please, but you may be sure that his majesty will decide in my favor."1 When Caulaincourt did go to Napoleon, Napoleon sided with Larrey, preferring that Larrey's work for the wounded take priority over his own comfort.
 
During the battle, the Russian attack on the French left flank almost overran Larrey's hospital. As French soldiers reeled back from the Russian onslaught, Larrey calmly finished the operation he was performing and announced that he would die with his casualties if need be. That very morning Larrey had assisted General Lepic with his arthritis so he could fight, and it was lucky that he had done so. As the French soldiers reeled back, Lepic's cavalry rode to the rescue with a succesful counterattack, driving the Russians back and keeping the hospital out of harm's way.
 
Later the same day, a colonel badly wounded at Eylau had to have his leg amputated, but as Larrey attempted to perform the operation, the man's leg would not stop shaking from his fear of the operation. Larrey slapped him in the face, and the officer demanded satisfaction for such an insult to his honor. As the man angrily spoke of honor, Larrey performed the operation, then apologized and explained that he knew the affront to the man's honor would cause him to forget the operation for a moment, all the time Larrey needed to carry out the operation.
 
As the Emperor and Larrey left Eylau on the 17th, Napoleon noticed that Larrey no longer wore a sword. "You don't have a sword?" Napoleon asked. Larrey explained that his sword was lost during the battle as the Russians had overrun his baggage wagon. Napoleon removed his own sword and held it out to Larrey, telling him, "Here is mine. Accept it as a reminder of the services you rendered me at the Battle of Eylau."2

Campaigns of 1808 - 1814

Rewards followed for Larrey, as he was made a Commander of the Legion of Honor and given the military rank of general. The next year he traveled with the Imperial Guard to Spain, and after participating in the campaigning, returned with them to address the new threat from Austria in 1809. During the Danube campaign, at Aspern-Essling Larrey personally amputated one of the legs of his good friend Marshal Lannes who he had patched up numerous times before. Despite the emotions of performing such a procedure on a good friend, Larrey carried out the operation successfully, though the wound became infected and Lannes died within a matter of days.
 
After the Battle of Wagram, Larrey was further recognized for his contributions by being made a Baron of the Empire. He spent the new few years in relative peace in Paris before being named Surgeon-in-Chief to the Grande Armée for the 1812 Russian campaign. Accompanying the army, at Borodino he performed about 200 amputations throughout the day. Once Napoleon realized the Czar Alexander would not negotiate, he ordered the retreat which was almost stopped by the Berezina River. At the crossing of the Berezina, the temporary bridge for vehicles was twice swept away, and Larrey was unable to bring his ambulances across the bridge. He repeatedly crossed the other bridge, carrying as many medical supplies as he could. As the bridge began to break, panic and a mad stampede erupted. Recognizing Larrey caught in the stampede, the soldiers began to cry out, "Let us save him who has saved us!"3 A group of soldiers pushed their way through the crowds, grabbed Larrey, held him up above themselves, and passed him above themselves to safety.
 
Larrey continued in his role as Chief Surgeon to the army during the campaign in Germany in 1813. In the midst of the campaign, many young soldiers were showing up with wounds on their hands. Suspecting an attempt to avoid fighting, Napoleon ordered two men from each corps to be shot as an example, and told Larrey to inspect their wounds and determine the individuals whose wounds were clearly self-inflicted. Larrey refused to do so, arguing that there wasn't enough evidence, so the Emperor ordered an inquiry into the wounds. Larrey and the surgeons analyzed the evidence and determined that none of the suspects had self-inflicted wounds. When he told Napoleon, Napoleon was very grateful and thanked Larrey for having the courage to stick to his beliefs, saying, "Happy indeed is a sovereign in having a man like you at his side."4

The Hundred Days

After Napoleon's abdication in 1814, Larrey was well treated by the Bourbons. But the next year when Napoleon returned from exile for the Hundred Days, Larrey eagerly greeted him and welcomed him back to Paris. However, when Dr. Percy was selected as Chief Surgeon to the Army, Larrey refused to accept the position of Chief Surgeon to the Imperial Guard until his friend Drouot convinced him otherwise. He set out to join the army on the 10th of June.
 
During the fighting at Waterloo, the Duke of Wellington noticed a surgeon working on the wounded while under fire. Upon asking who it was and learning that it was Larrey, he directed his men to not fire in Larrey's direction and took off his hat in a salute to Larrey. When asked who he was saluting, Wellington pointed at Larrey and explained, "I salute the courage and devotion of an age that is no longer ours."5
 
After the loss of Waterloo, Larrey, his ambulances, and his escort found their retreat blocked by a Prussian unit. They launched a charge to break through the Prussians, but Larrey was hit, knocked unconscious, and left for dead. Upon waking, he set off on his own, only to have a Prussian cavalry squadron hunt him down. All alone, he surrendered, but was immediately manhandled and stripped of almost everything on him. The Prussians then took Larrey to their general, who ordered that he be shot. As a Prussian surgeon stepped forward to bandage his wound before his imminent execution, the surgeon recognized Larrey and convinced the general to not execute Larrey. Larrey was sent first to General Bülow, who improved his condition, giving him new clothes and untying his hands, and then sent him on to Field Marshal Blücher. Larrey had previously treated Blücher's son at Dresden, and Blücher treated him with respect and sent word to his wife that he was alive, as the French had thought Larrey was killed in the retreat from Waterloo.
 
In Napoleon's will, he called Larrey, "the most virtuous man I have ever known."6 At another time, Napoleon said, "If the Army were to erect a monument of the memory of any one man, it should be that of Larrey. All the wounded are his family."7

Source: http://www.arcdetriomphe.info/officers/larrey/
 

Whatever your attitude of a particular war or war in general the soldiers on the front line who fight those wars deserve to be well treated before, during and after the war has ended.  Good treatment during war time means, among other things, recieving quality medical healthcare should the soldier become wounded.  While many men have contributed to the improvement of medicine Larrey's contribution was to make sure that the wounded soldiers got treated as soon as they had recieved there wounds and were not left on the battlefield to suffer.


[End.]