Spitzka and spitzka on the brains of the assassins of presidents

Abstract

Although four American Presidents have been assassinated (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Kennedy), only the assassins of Garfield (Charles Julius Guiteau) and McKinley (Leon Franz Czolgosz) were tried, convicted, and executed for their crime. In 1882 Edward Charles Spitzka, a young New York neurologist with a growing reputation as an alienist, testified at the trial of Guiteau. He was the only expert witness who was asked, based on his personal examination of the prisoner, a direct question concerning the mental state of Guiteau. Spitzka maintained the unpopular view that Guiteau was insane. In spite of aggressive and spirited testimony on Spitzka's part, Guiteau was convicted and hanged. However, even before the execution it was acknowledged, by some experts, that Spitzka was undoubtedly right. About 20 years later, in 1901, Edward Anthony Spitzka, the son of Edward Charles Spitzka, was invited to conduct the autopsy on Czologsz, the assassin of McKinley. At the time Spitzka the younger, who had just published a detailed series of papers on the human brain, was in the fourth year of his medical training. It was an unusual series of fortuitous events that presumably led to Edward A. Spitzka conducting the autopsy on the assassin of the President of the United States while still a medical student. This, in light of the fact that other experts were available. Each Spitzka went on to a career of note and each made a number of contributions in their respective fields. It is however, their participation in the ‘neurology’, as broadly defined, of the assassins of Presidents Garfield and McKinley that remains unique in neuroscience history. Not only were father and son participants in these important events, but these were the only times that assassins of US Presidents were tried and executed.     

‘A Young Tory’? The Early Parliamentary Career of Charles James Fox 1768–74

This article seeks to redress the neglect, even by his biographers, of Fox's early career, when he made over 250 speeches in the house of commons in six years. The period when young Fox supported government was an inappropriate prelude to his later fame as opponent of Prime Minister Pitt and champion of ‘liberal causes’. He was anything but a ‘man of the people’ in his authoritarian attitude and detestation of popular opinion, and yet there were signs that he would not be an administration man in the mould of his father, Henry Fox.     

FROM VAGUE SYMBOLS TO CONTESTED CONCEPTS: PEIRCE,W. B. GALLIE,AND HISTORY

This article explores Walter Bryce Gallie's notion of “essentially contested concepts” from a viewpoint that has hitherto been neglected, namely its relation to the philosophy of Charles S. Peirce. As a matter of fact, Gallie was an authoritative reader of the American philosopher. All areas of his work are influenced by his attempt to take up and further articulate a major insight of Peirce's semiotics, namely the idea that symbols are inherently vague, and that their meaning is in a state of perpetual growth. At the same time, Gallie rejected another crucial tenet of Peirce's philosophy, that is, the idea that the growth of signs is regulated by the possibility of a final agreement among sign‐users. Examining this ambivalent relation between the two authors will help us shed light on a question that was of crucial importance for Gallie: to what extent should we let our appreciation of concepts or beliefs depend on a historical examination of their meaning?     

Politician or Poet? The 6th Lord Byron in the House of Lords, 1809–13

Lord George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron of Rochdale, is known internationally as, perhaps, the most famous Romantic poet of his generation. His work continues to be read across the globe. As a peer (succeeding to the title following the death of his great uncle, the 5th Baron Byron, in 1798) he was entitled to a seat in the Lords, and this article covers the period during which he was active in the House. He took his seat in 1809, but most of his work in the Lords took place between early 1812 and the summer of 1813. Thereafter, his financial troubles, his stellar literary career, and his personal problems, led him to spend little or no time in the House, and he lived abroad between 1816 and his death in 1824. In 1812, before he had become known for his poetry, except among a small London elite, he began actively to cultivate a political career, and he made his maiden speech on the Framework Knitters Bill in 1812. Byron was a prolific letter writer, and from his published correspondence as well as other sources of contemporary information, it is possible to document his growing career in the upper House, and to see how a young peer might make his way into politics in the absence of a particular sponsor.     

Urban law—II

This paper explores the political thought of Andrew Michael Ramsay with particular reference to his highly acclaimed book called A New Cyropaedia, or the Travels of Cyrus (1727). Dedicated to Prince Charles Edward Stuart, the Young Pretender, to whom he was tutor, this work has been hitherto viewed as a Jacobite imitation of the Telemachus, Son of Ulysses(1699) of his eminent teacher archbishop Fénelon of Cambrai. By tracing the dual legacy of the first Persian Emperor Cyrus in Western thought, I demonstrate that Ramsay was as much indebted to Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet's Discourse on Universal History (1681)as he was to Fénelon's political romance. Ramsay took advantage of Xenophon's silence about the eponymous hero's adolescent education in his Cyropaedia, or the Education of Cyrus (c.380B.C.), but he was equally inspired by the Book of Daniel, where the same Persian prince was eulogised as the liberator of the Jewish people from their captivity in Babylon. The main thrust of Ramsay's adaptation was not only to revamp the Humanist- cum-Christian theory and practice of virtuous kingship for a restored Jacobite regime, but on a more fundamental level, to tie in secular history with biblical history. In this respect, Ramsay's New Cyropaedia, or the Travels of Cyrus, was not just another Fénelonian political novel but more essentially a work of universal history. In addition to his Jacobite model of aristocratic constitutional monarchy, it was this Bossuetian motive for universal history, which was first propounded by the German reformer Philipp Melanchthon in his Chronicon Carionis (1532), that most decisively separated Ramsay from Henry St. John, Viscount Bolingbroke, author of another famous advice book for princes of the period, The Idea of a Patriot King (written in late 1738 for the education of Frederick Lewis, Prince of Wales, but officially published in 1749).     

Veteran Politics in Restoration England, 1660–1670

This article calls attention to the political and social significance of the military during the first decade of Charles II's reign. The “Old Army” of the Commonwealth continued to be a sensitive issue long after 1660, and its disposal was neither as unproblematic nor as bloodless as oft-quoted sources such as Pepys might suggest. The redeployment of thousands of troops in Portugal, Tangier and Bombay is presented as a decisive episode in the consolidation of royal power. This redeployment, together with the great demobilisation of 1660–1662 had a significant impact on local communities, where demobilised veterans, maimed soldiers and war widows (both royalist and parliamentarian) had already become catalysts for economic and cultural tension. The author argues that the various issues concerning veterans were inextricably intertwined with wider political issues and had far-reaching consequences for the Restoration regime.     

Mapping Spain in the Sixteenth Century: The Escorial Atlas and Pedro de Esquivel’s Notebook

ABSTRACT

The twenty-one maps of Spain that comprise the Escorial atlas (El atlas de El Escorial) and the later notebook compiled by Pedro de Esquivel for another map of Spain have long been confused. Recently identified documents in the Royal Library, Stockholm, have allowed us to recognize the two works as completely separate and to shed new light on each. In this article we describe their respective histories, starting with the Escorial atlas, now known to have been commissioned by Emperor Charles V from the Sevillian cosmographer Alonso de Santa Cruz, who between c.1538 and 1545 produced an index map and 20 regional sheets drawn to the scale of 1:400 000. We then go on to show how, later in the century (between c.1552 and 1565), Pedro de Esquivel was using a version of the topographical methods described in Peter Apian’s Cosmographia to assemble data for the map of Spain commissioned by Philip II before and just after he became king in 1556. Esquivel died in 1565 before all the data had been collected, his map was never drawn, and his notebooks, with all his astronomical measurements and calculations of angles and distances, took a curious journey that ended in Stockholm in the archives of the Royal Library of Sweden.