this day in 1825, the disputed presidential election of
1824 was resolved when the House of Representatives elected John Quincy
Adams as the sixth President of the United States. No presidential
candidate in that election
won a majority of Electoral College votes and so, as specified in the
Constitution, the decision came to
Congress. Despite Andrew Jackson winning a plurality of the popular and
electoral vote, the third candidate Henry Clay agreed to transfer his
electoral votes to
John Quincy Adams, which handed Adams the presidency. Clay was then made
Secretary of State, which Jackson and his legions of loyal supporters
criticised as a
‘Corrupt Bargain’. Adams, son of the second president John Adams, served
only one term as president, as he was handily defeated in his
re-election bid by Jackson in 1828. Jackson capitalised on the vote of
the ordinary man, fuelling anger over the 1825 agreement; this period is
thus characterised as one of ‘Jacksonian Democracy’. Jackson pursued
aggressive policies as President, including a violent ‘Indian Removal’
programme, threatening military action against South Carolina during the
Nullification Crisis, and attacking the national banking system.
In fact, Admiral Yamamoto did not say that; what he said, was:
Should hostilities once break out between Japan and the United States, it is not enough that we take Guam and the Philippines, nor even Hawaii and San Francisco.
To make victory certain,we would have to march into Washington and dictate the terms of peace in the White House. I wonder if our politicians, among whom armchair arguments about war are being glibly bandied about in the name of state politics, have confidence as to the final outcome and are prepared to make the necessary sacrifices.
Circa 1870 to 1890, these are photographs of Peking taken by its foreign occupiers. The originals now reside in the National Archives in London. I would recommend clicking through the images, the captions tell you where or what each photograph is.
One of the first coins to be struck in Britain and the only proof of the existence of a little known Celtic king
This is a very rare Celtic silver King Andoco unit and is one of the first coins to be struck in Britain, dating circa 10 BC - 10 AD. Andoco is only known from his coinage, such as the present example and is thought to have been either a sub-king to Tasciovanus or a rival to his throne. Tasciovanus was a king of the Catuvellauni tribe before the Roman conquest of Britain and, like Andoco, is also only known via his coinage.
Obverse: Celticized male head left; ‘A’ behind; all within interlaced linear and pelleted border. Reverse: Pegasus flying left. The legend around reading: A[ND]OCO
The (only) good thing to come from the rise of Donald Trump: You know how all those history majors in college used to wonder, “Hey, how did Hitler come to power? How did he influence innocent people to do such evil?” and do essays and dissertations on it but ultimately come to uncertain, ambiguous conclusions?
The battle between Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson over the national bank sets the book’s central tension: To a creditor or debtor be? While Hamilton wanted a national bank and a government backed credit system, Jefferson argued that the plan wouldn’t work and the feds lacked the authority in the first place. It was never really a contest, and Olegario sides with Hamilton’s farsightedness. But this is one of the few places where the book descends to the human level, and the author is laughably generous with Jefferson. Whether his opposition to debt was more personal or ideological is up for debate, but to say the slave-breeder’s “unyielding dedication to human liberty placed him among the most radical thinkers of the age” is false. To earnestly repeat the child salesman Jefferson’s anti-debt line to James Madison about no generation having the right to bind future ones, obscene.