A celebrated critic of all things, and a critic to the end. What we love about Francis Bown is that he is opinionated and knows it, and is anything but ashamed of it. He speaks his mind on all matters from government, religion, restaurants, hotels, and of course, bespoke clothing. We may not always share his perspective, but there is something we find charming about this Brit, and he never fails to put a smile on our faces.

It is with the respect he deserves that we felt that a re-print of his Ten Commandments for aspiring gentlemen would be a good way to start a Friday. Though we might not always live by them, if nothing else, Bown yet again delivers some food for thought.

Unless we subscribe to the heresy of Antinomianism, we know that we all need a few rules by which to lead our lives. Human beings are not made for chaos, but for order – of the proper sort. We do not want to be suppressed, yet we know instinctively that anarchy would probably be the worst suppression of all. Moses came down from the mountain with the tablets on which were written The Ten Commandments. In my own, rather more modest, fashion I wish to respond to those correspondents who have asked for some guidance about the proper way in which a gentleman can maintain a decent appearance in a world which can be depressingly indifferent to standards of the sartorial sort. I therefore humbly offer to readers my own version of The Ten Commandments. Most of the Commandments are to do with matters of dress, although a couple relate to aspects of behaviour. One of my heroes – the French writer, Anglophile and conservative, Maurice Druon (1918-2009) – was once denounced as “starched, outdated, reactionary, egotistical, haughty and sinister”. If these Commandments prompt as noble a tribute from my many detractors, I shall know that my efforts have not been in vain.
-Francis Bown

Follow Bown's Commandments and someday we will all look this good.

( I ) THOU SHALT WEAR BESPOKE

This is the first and Great Commandment. Whether it is for his suits, his shirts or his shoes, a gentleman’s first priority should be to wear bespoke. By bespoke, I do not mean ‘made to measure’. The mark of true bespoke is that the craftsman – the tailor, the shirt-maker or the shoemaker – makes a pattern which is unique for each of his customers, and that his workmanship, based on that pattern, is of the highest order. There are no short cuts in the world of true bespoke. Bespoke can, therefore, never be cheap. I realize, of course, that the vagaries of life mean that some who would very much like to obey this commandment are prevented from doing so by financial constraints. I would urge them to remember that one bespoke suit (or one pair of bespoke shoes) is worth a whole wardrobe (or boot room) of inferior items.

( II ) THOU SHALT WALK ONLY ON LEATHER

There is something utterly vile about the way in which the footwear of Western men has been defiled by the widespread adoption of the ‘trainer’. I suppose it has brought huge profits to the manufacturers of these nasty items, but it has also done inestimable damage to the character, as well as the appearance, of our sex. Trainers are for training: they are not fit for respectable living. Nor should we countenance those shoes which, at an indifferent glance, look passable – but which have soles made from synthetic material. Men should wear leather shoes with leather soles.

( III ) THOU SHALT WEAR A COLLAR AND TIE
To dress without effort is to dress without respect for one’s fellow man. To wear a collar with a tie means that decisions have been made and time has been spent in making one’s appearance smart. Such discipline is a habit which promotes grace.

( IV ) THOU SHALT HAVE A PARTING
Americans call the parting in the hair ‘the part’. Frenchmen call it ‘la raie’. Italians call it ‘la riga’. The widespread disappearance of the parting has gone almost unremarked. It should have been the cause of outrage and protest. Why has it gone? Is it the laziness of barbers? A parting requires work to maintain, for it is the making of order where there is inclined to be indiscipline. Its presence now denotes a person who cares about tradition and about propriety.

( V ) THOU SHALT WEAR CUFF-LINKS

A buttoned cuff on a gentleman’s shirt is a miserable, squalid thing, suggestive of the ‘couldn’t care less’ attitude. Cuff-links can be valuable or relatively cheap, but they are essential if a man is to be smartly dressed.

( VI ) THOU SHALT WEAR BRACES

Trousers can only be kept at the correct height by braces. Nothing is more dispiriting than the sight of trousers sagging at the waist and horribly crumpled at the shoe.

( VII ) THOU SHALT NOT WEAR UNPOLISHED SHOES

Unpolished shoes are a disgrace to God and man. This is a truth I learnt from my dear Father. Perhaps this is why I find the polishing of shoes to be positively therapeutic. Requiring concentration and a modest expenditure of energy, but no thought, it enables the mind to rest and find comfort. And the result is truly satisfying. Scuffed, badly-maintained shoes denote laziness and unreliability in the wearer.

( VIII ) THOU SHALT NOT WEAR UNFASTENED CUFF BUTTONS
Every gentleman should have working cuff buttons on his jacket. But to leave any of them un-buttoned – one supposes, to impress the observer with the quality and/or expense of the garment being worn – is unconscionably vulgar. It is sartorial boasting and must not be done.

( IX ) THOU SHALT NOT USE A PORTABLE TELEPHONE IN A PUBLIC PLACE

No device has done more to promote bad manners and the vulgarization of our public spaces than the portable telephone. It has also proved deleterious to the appearance of many a gentleman who might otherwise have looked properly dressed. If a telephone must be carried, it should be carried discreetly and should only be used in an emergency. I confess that I do possess one of these machines: I keep it in the glove box of my motor car, in case the Royce ‘declines to proceed’.

( X ) THOU SHALT NOT CHEW GUM

I am very sorry indeed that this unpleasant subject has to be mentioned. But the chewing of gum has become an epidemic which is disfiguring mankind. It has spread far beyond the confines of the underclass and now infects even some of those who have had the privilege of a decent education. It makes its practitioners appear moronic and it results in the defilement of our pavements. A gentleman who is worthy of the name does not chew gum.

So no gum chewing today, chaps. Out of respect of Sir Francis.

When the President of the United States asks you to take them fishing, you probably know what you are doing. Dan Vermillion is a humble guy, so he would never tell you, but he’s one of the most respected guides in the business. Ask any of his devoted clients, who had just as soon not fish with anyone else.

We sat down with Dan to talk about the pursuit of 50 inch trout, what we can do to preserve our waterways, and what it’s like to fish with the Secret Service.

FMA: Did you grow up fly fishing?

Vermillion: Yes, I was very lucky as I kid. My dad actually moved us to Billings, Montana, primarily because he loved to fly fish. My family has a ranch on the Yellowstone River and I grew up running the banks and fishing grasshoppers. It was a great way to grow up.

How does a man luck Into fishing for a living?

Well I started guiding when I was 17 in Montana, where I grew up. Then I went to college and after college I began guiding in various places in South America. It was a tremendous experience, but like a lot of young guys, I began thinking about having a family and supporting them. I was worried guiding wouldn’t support a wife and kids down the road. So I went to law school and became a lawyer. I got a job with a firm and realized it just really wasn’t the life for me.

My brothers (Pat and Jeff) came to me with the idea of starting a fishing camp in Mongolia, where the biggest trout in the world, Taimen, live. In 1997 we launched our company, Sweetwater Travel, and haven’t looked back.

Dan grew up on the banks of the Yellowstone River in Montana, which still serves as his home base.

Talk about the different types of fishing you guys do with your clients.

Obviously we have the camp in Mongolia, where I just returned from. That is probably the greatest Taimen fishery in the world. You have crystal clear water and trout over 50 inches! Then we have trips in Alaska, British Columbia, New Zealand, Argentina, Brazil, and of course Montana, which is our home base. Our clients are fly fisherman and they just want to catch the best fish in the best places in the world. So that’s what we try to provide.

We have caught and released Taimen in Mongolia, Trout and Salmon in Alaska, Peacock Bass, Payara, Dorado, and Piranha in Venezuela, Bolivia, Ecuador, and Brazil, Atlantic Salmon in Russia, Steelhead in British Columbia, Trout in New Zealand, Ecuador, Chile, and Argentina, and Bonefish, Tarpon, and Snook in Florida, Mexico, Nicaragua, Tahiti and Costa Rica.

You can find big trout in Mongolia or Montana.

Recently, I’ve heard that a pretty important beginning fisherman reached out to you?

Yes, that was a pretty special experience, guiding the President of the United States. Certainly not something you ever expect to happen to you in a million years.

How did that come about?

Well, when President Obama was in Montana on the campaign trail he promised to return to Montana and learn to fly fish if he was elected. It was a campaign promise he certainly made good on.

I’m pretty active politically here in Montana and I knew some the President’s staffers. When the President made the return trip to Montana after he was elected, they reached out to me. People close to the President had recommended me and it was an honor to be the one chosen.

What is it like fishing with the Secret Service?

Those guys are some of the most efficient, professional people I’ve ever met. Just incredibly sharp, but genuinely good people. Leading up to the trip, they were great to work with and just did their job of making sure everything was secure. But, then on the day when the President shows up and it’s time to go fishing—it’s all business. They are locked in, but you really forget they are there when you’re on the river and fishing. You can tell they have a lot of experience blending into their surroundings and you quickly forget they are there.

President Obama quickly took to the sport. (Courtesy of the White House)

So, when you’re on a trout stream in Montana with the President of the United States, what do you talk about?

We actually spent nearly the entire four hours talking fishing and conservation of public lands and waterways. Obviously, those are topics that are incredibly important to me and I was glad to hear how important they were to him, as well. He seemed to have a really good grasp on the importance of conserving the lands we have to fish and hunt, so that future generations can enjoy the same things I was able to enjoy. I think it’s something that’s very important to him.

Does the President have a future as a fly fisherman?

I really think he does. He seemed to pick it up pretty fast and most importantly, really enjoy it. It was terrible weather the day we went out. Cold, raining, just a nasty day.

We fished downstream and weren’t having a lot of luck. When we got to the turnaround point, I told him we could get out and get a ride back to camp. He said “Heck no, we’re fishing back to camp” and so we did. He seemed to really have a great time. I think when his schedule clears a bit, he may make a fisherman.

Talk about the conservation efforts you are involved in?

We are very active in taimen conservation in Mongolia. (To read more about this amazing species of trout, read this article in National Geographic.) They are just an incredible species and that is one of the last places in the world to catch these beautiful fish. They’ve been over fished in neighboring places. So we practice catch and release there and are very active in supporting the Taimen Conservation Fund, which we helped create with the support of the Mongolian Government. It’s focus is to protect the species and the waters where they live. (Read more about the efforts of the TCF, here.)

My brother has also become very involved with Northern Rivers Conservation Trust, which protects wild salmon and steelhead in British Columbia. (You can read more about this charity here.)

One thing people have to realize is there are no islands in fishing. We are all connected by the waters. So what happens upstream or downstream, directly affects the sport. We are all connected and must treat our resources as such.

The pursuit of trout over 50 inches makes Mongolia a Godsend for fly fisherman.

What do you see as the biggest threats to the sport?

I worry about access to public lands and waterways. Part of what has made the United States so unique in it’s history is the ability for all economic classes to have access to places to fish and hunt. It’s critically important that we maintain our public lands. If not, we will simply go the way of Europe, where only the upper class are able to hunt and fish.

I also just worry about the future participation in fly fishing and other outdoors activities, with so much of our population residing in urban areas. If a kid grows up in the city and does not have a person in his life committed to getting him into the outdoors—they will never experience it. This is becoming more and more of a problem, as we are seeing participation numbers decrease in many outdoor activities, including fly fishing. It’s up to our generation to ensure that there are future outdoors recreational opportunities for people of all socio-economic classes to participate in.

Fly fishing has always been known as a very addicting sport. Why is that?

I think there is just something very addicting about the activity of fly casting. It’s something you can always improve on and never perfect. The sport itself really rewards skill and the better you get, the more feedback you get from the fish. Once you get to that point, you aren’t going to want to stop because that’s when it really gets fun.

What is the biggest thrill a fly fisherman can experience?

I really think the pinnacle of fly fishing is simply the one on one battle with the fish. The best experience is when you are able to engage in a situation with a fish and present a fly over and over again, until you are finally able to convince the fish to take the fly. There just aren’t many opportunities in nature to get that kind of direct feedback. It’s a very unique experience.

Gana, a Sweetwater guide, shows off his small taimen in the Uur River, Mongolia. (Courtesy of National Geographic)

If you had one fishing trip left to take in your life…where are you headed?

Mongolia. There’s no question. They have the biggest species of trout in the world, but it’s just a great experience aside from the fishing. There aren’t any better people in the world and they make me feel at home every time I go down there. And then, we have access to one of the best places to fish. It’s beautiful.

Dan, we know it has to be tough choosing to between Mongolia or Alaska or Brazil or Montana….you live a good life! We greatly appreciate the opportunity to chat with you.

To learn more about Sweetwater Travel and book a trip with Dan, visit his website.

Wine has been an ally and companion for men in love, war, health, and healing. To call wine “masculine” may be a bit superfluous. It is, after all, the first drink of man. It is at home in every circumstance. But, a little guidance is always appreciated when choosing. The wine world is a crowded one and choices can become a bit intimidating.

So, we sat down and took notes from a good friend of F.M. ALLEN, Michael Armstrong, who makes his home in Texas, but has traveled the world studying wine and the art of wine making. He’s also a damn fine cook, so we respect his suggestions on wine and foods they should be paired with. So, enjoy our five best “masculine” wines for fall:

Niebaum-Coppola Black Label Claret
How much more manly could a wine be than to be produced by the famed director of The Godfather trilogy? Francis Ford Coppola purchased this winery set in Rutherford, California, and has created an incredible red wine. The first thing you’ll notice is the deep, ruby color of the fruit that compliments the thick bouquet. The wine is a great pairing for red meats and hearty pastas and can stand up on its own if you choose to drink it alone. The bottle is black with a black and gold label along with a gold ribbon wire encasing the body. Until about five years ago, the wine was made in Rutherford, however the winemaker moved production to Sonoma which lessened the quality of the wine, however it’s still a very good versatile wine. Incidentally, they still make the same wine in Rutherford, however they call it “Rubicon” now and charge $80/bottle for it.

Chateau Teyssier St. Emillion Grand Cru
This might be my favorite wine to drink right now. It’s a nice merlot/cab franc blend from the Bordeaux region. If you are going to serve this to guests, make sure you get a couple of bottles because they’ll certainly want more than a single glass. You’ll be knocked down by the usually muted merlot fruit’s power in this wine. Pairing it with food is totally acceptable as it’s a red that could hold up to a spicy pork dish since the fruit has a delicious raspberry flavor to it, but if you want to treat yourself, fire up an A. Fuente Chateau Fuente Maduro. The cedar and nuttiness of the cigar will bring out the tobacco flavor that resides just under the bold wine.

Michel-Schlumberger Cabernet Sauvignon Dry Creek Valley
Although not related in any way, any wine that shares a name with a global oil producer has to be a masculine drink. This is no exception. The winery is a small-production producer and the wines can be tough to find. The flavor is spicy and dark with peppery notes. Tannins are present and provide a neat finish, but aren’t too overpowering to go with a rack of lamb or a nice filet. It may be tough to find, but it’s worth the effort.

Trenel Fils Chiroubles
This is probably the least manly of the group, but I threw this one in because I wanted to be able to point out that it’s perfectly acceptable to drink a red with fish. This Beaujolais is made from black gamay grapes. You end up with a palatable red wine with a fruity taste and a hell of backbone that can stand up to some pretty serious fish. Give me a half dozen Connecticut Blue Points and a halibut dish and this wine is unbeatable.

Mas Igneus Priorat
Ah, yes… a manly wine list without a Spaniard is no manly wine list at all. Any wine enthusiast will tell you that Spain is home to some of the toughest, boldest red wines out there, and this is a great example of that. This wine (specifically the FA 112 and FA 206 versions) boasts a deep purple color, a strong/almost mystical mouthful of both sandalwood and vanilla spice, and a warm bouquet of something very earthy, almost like pencil lead. Think of it as the wine version of chai tea. This bad boy can stand up to some pretty heavy dishes, so when you throw down the Tony Soprano-sized baked ziti or some gnocchi with a tomato sauce, the Priorat can hang. However, my favorite dish to have with this wine is a Texas Angus ribeye seared over mesquite to medium rare. The ribeye is the Cadillac of steaks, and this grenache from the Catalunya region of Spain has heavy tannins that the beef fat loves to roll off of, creating a velvety finish.

So that’s our take, what is yours? We look forward to hearing your experiences.

On January 13, 1914, Sir Ernest Shackleton posted that classified ad in London newspapers. Shackleton needed crew members to join him in attempting the first voyage across the continent of Antarctica on foot. Nearly 5,000 people (including three women) responded. The 56 that were ultimately chosen could not have imagined just how prescient his words would turn out to be.

Shackleton began preparation for the nearly 1800-mile trans-Antarctic journey in middle of 1913, though no public announcement was made until the fateful ad. Learning from mistakes made in his two previous voyages to the continent, the expedition would employ two ships. Shackleton and 27 others boarded the Endurance into the Weddell Sea aiming for Vahsel Bay, while a 29-member supporting party sailed aboard the Aurora bound for the opposite side of the continent. The supporting party would leave supply stores at points all along the second half of Shackleton’s cross-continent trek.

Shackleton aboard the Endurance.

The Endurance set sail from the island of South Georgia on the morning of December 5, 1914. Sailing was slow as Captain Frank Worsley navigated through small cracks in the slowly drifting ice floe of the Weddell Sea. On January 19, less than a day’s sail away from their destination, the Endurance became stuck, moored on an iceberg.

The Endurance trapped on an iceberg.

Small openings in the ice initially tantalized Shackleton and crew, and the men worked furiously to try and free the ship. However, a month later, they had barely moved and the frigid winds had compressed the ice around the ship. She was completely frozen in. The Endurance and her crew were trapped on what amounted to a giant life raft made of ice, drifting slowly and helplessly in the frigid water of the Weddell Sea.

With the end of summer upon them and temperatures dropping, Shackleton ordered the crew cease their routine on February 24. The Endurance would be their home until warmer months arrived. He wrote:

“I could not doubt now that the Endurance was confined for the winter…The seals were disappearing and the birds were leaving us. The land showed still in fair weather on the distant horizon, but it was beyond our reach now, and regrets for havens that lay behind us were vain. We must wait for the spring, which may bring us better fortune…My chief anxiety is the drift. Where will the vagrant winds and currents carry the ship during the long winter months that are ahead of us? We will go west, no doubt, but how far? And will it be possible to break out of the pack early in the spring and reach Vahsel Bay or some other suitable landing-place? These are momentous questions for us.”

Drift shouldn’t have been Shackleton’s biggest concern. The ship was trapped between two gigantic ice floes that could easily crush her, and the crew worked to in attempt to clear the ice in hopes that she would rise above it as it pressed against her sides. On May 1, they said goodbye to the sun and the 70-day long “Antarctic winter night” began. Winter meant the disappearance of seals and penguins, and they began to run out of meat for the pack dogs. Temperatures dropped to nearly -25° F. All they could do was wait and hope that the Endurance would survive.

While Shackleton clung to visions of sailing out of the ice pack and into Antarctica, the elements had other ideas. October 23rd marked the beginning of the end. Shifting ice forced her starboard quarter against the floe, and the wood let out thunderous snaps and cracks as her stern twisted and the planks buckled. A gaping hole was taking on water quickly and the men worked the bilge pumps around the clock. But it was soon obvious that she couldn’t be saved.

The men were forced to watch helplessly as the ship was crushed between the moving ice pack.

Four days later, on October 27, Shackleton ordered the crew to abandon ship. The men lowered the life boats, gear and provisions and established “Ocean Camp” approximately one mile from the spot where the ship lay paralyzed in the ice. On November 21, 1915 — 306 days after she became stuck — the Endurance slipped away to the bottom of the Weddell Sea.

Shackleton’s dream of crossing Antarctica – at least on this voyage – was officially over. But it was in this moment that Shackleton showed that he was more than just a great explorer; that he was indeed a great leader of men. He went about the excruciatingly difficult task of removing the visions the trans-Antarctic crossing from his mind with swiftness and precision, and immediately turned his unmitigated focus toward a new but more important target: Getting his men, all 27 of them, home safely.

Shackleton and his men relax in Ocean Camp.

In the 11-month period since the group had been marooned, their giant ice raft had drifted more than 1,200 miles. They were now less than 350 from Paulet Island, the closest opportunity for food and shelter. A Swedish expedition had built a hut there in 1902 and their stores and provisions remained. Shackleton and crew abandoned Ocean Camp and moved the life boats westward across the iceberg to reduce the distance between them and the Island. As the men moved closer to the edge of the iceberg, the pack often began to disintegrate beneath them. When it did, the men quickly boarded the life boats and looked for more solid chunks of ice to land upon. On April 12, following one of these searches for solid ice, Shackleton realized that instead of making good progress to the west, they had actually drifted 30 miles to the east. Elephant Island, in the South Shetlands, appeared to them in the north-northwest, and the group made their way there.

Though no one inhabited Elephant Island, Shackleton and the men set up camp there and readied for the next leg of the journey. From there, the target would be South Georgia, the place where the Endurance had originally set sail more than 15 months prior. It was 800 miles from Elephant Island to South Georgia and the voyage would take a month in the small, open life boat. On April 24, Shackleton and five other men – Thomas Crean, Henry McNeish, Timothy McCarthy, John Vincent and Frank Worsley – gathered what little provisions they could had left along with 250 pounds of ice for drinking water and bags made from blankets and filled with sand to ballast the tiny ship and boarded the James Caird bound for South Georgia. Frank Wild, Shackleton’s second in command, remained at Elephant Island to command the camp there. They would wait for Shackleton’s return with a rescue ship.

Shackleton and five others boarded the 20-foot James Caird for the month-long voyage from Elephant Island to South Georgia.

On the fourth day out, a severe southwesterly gale arose dousing the boat with spray and tossing it about like a rag doll. Time and again, it appeared the tiny boat would capsize, but she lived on. The storm had been born just north of the Antarctic continent and the temperature of the water it brought with it was near zero. The sea spray began to freeze coating the boat with a heavy layer of ice. The weight of the ice began to pose a serious problem, and the men began working frantically to chip it away. No matter how quickly they worked, they could not keep up as more ice formed on the sides of the boat; they had to drop weight. First, the spare oars, which were encased in ice and frozen to the side of the boat, were dispensed. Next went the sleeping bags, which were so full of water that they weighed more than 40 pounds each. Amazingly, the life boat remained afloat. By the dawn of the seventh day – three days after the storm began – the wind finally subsided.

Four days later, a tremendous cross-sea developed and at midnight, a line of what appeared to be clear sky was spotted between the south and southwest. Shackleton, who was manning the tiller, wrote:

“I called to the other men that the sky was clearing, and then a moment later I realized that what I had seen was not a rift in the clouds but the white crest of an enormous wave. During twenty-six years’ experience of the ocean in all its moods I had not encountered a wave so gigantic. It was a mighty upheaval of the ocean, a thing quite apart from the big white-capped seas that had been our tireless enemies for many days. I shouted ‘For God’s sake, hold on! It’s got us.’ Then came a moment of suspense that seemed drawn out into hours. White surged the foam of the breaking sea around us. We felt our boat lifted and flung forward like a cork in breaking surf. We were in a seething chaos of tortured water; but somehow the boat lived through it, half full of water, sagging to the dead weight and shuddering under the blow. We baled with the energy of men fighting for life, flinging the water over the sides with every receptacle that came to our hands, and after ten minutes of uncertainty we felt the boat renew her life beneath us.”

The next day, the tired, thirsty and battered crew awoke to discover that they were less than a hundred miles from the northwest corner of South Georgia. Two days later on May 8, just after noon, the men caught a glimpse of the black cliffs of South Georgia. Two more days of favorable wind had put them within view of South Georgia just fourteen days after departing Elephant Island. The rocky coast made it nearly impossible to find a landing place, and stormy seas kept the men at sea until the morning of May 10. When the men finally reached ground, they were 17 miles from the Stromness sailing station (the only life on the island). Sailing around to the other side of the island was impossible; the men would have to cross South Georgia’s mass of mountains and glaciers by foot, something no man had ever accomplished.

Shackleton designed this boot for the trans-Antarctic voyage. He added the nails to the soles for traction before crossing the mountains of South Georgia.

McNeish and Vincent were too weak for the journey, so Shackleton, Crean and Worsley set out for Stromness. (McCarthy stayed behind to care for the others.) The trio made their way up the icy slopes and and glaciers to an altitude of 4,500 feet. Nightfall approached quickly and there were no sleeping bags or tents to be had. Shackleton knew with the group had to get to a lower elevation, and get there quickly. With no idea what was waiting at the bottom, the group decided to slide like children down the snowy slope. Luckily, all turned out well and they were able to descend 900 feet in a matter of minutes. A full moon lit their path during the evening, and by 5 a.m., the men were exhausted. They sat down at the base of a rock and within a minute, all were asleep. Shackleton knew that falling asleep for any length of time in the frigid conditions would mean a certain death, so after five minutes he woke them up and told them they had been asleep half an hour, and the group continued their march.

The men approached the whaling station – where they met two small boys. Shackleton asked them for directions to the manager’s house and without responding, the two boys turned and ran as fast as they could. Next they came to the wharf where the man in charge was asked if Mr. Sorlle (the manager) was in the house. According to Shackleton:

“Yes,” he said as he stared at us.
“We would like to see him,” said I.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“We have lost our ship and come over the island,” I replied.
“You have come over the island?” he said in a tone of entire disbelief.

The man went towards the manager’s house and we followed him. I learned afterwards that he said to Mr. Sorlle: “There are three funny-looking men outside, who say they have come over the island and they know you. I have left them outside.” A very necessary precaution from his point of view.

Mr. Sorlle came out to the door and said, “Well?”
“Don’t you know me?” I said.
“I know your voice,” he replied doubtfully. “You’re the mate of the Daisy.”
“My name is Shackleton,” I said.
Immediately he put out his hand and said, “Come in. Come in.”

They washed, shaved and dined on ‘coffee and cakes in the Norwegian fashion.”

Worsley boarded a whaler to go back for the three men on the other side of South Georgia, while Shackleton planned the rescue of the remaining crew from Elephant Island. The next day, Worsley returned with the three men from the James Caird and Shackleton, Worsley and Crean left on the Norwegian whaler Southern Sky for Elephant Island. Sixty miles from the island, the pack ice forced them to retreat to the Falkland Islands. There, the government of Uruguay loaned Shackleton the trawler Instituto De Pesca, but once again the ice turned them away. They went to Punta Arenas where British and Chilean residents donated £1500 in order to charter the schooner Emma. One hundred miles north of Elephant Island, the auxiliary engine broke down and thus a fourth attempt would be necessary. The Chilean Government now loaned the steamer Yelcho, under the command of Captain Luis Pardo, to Shackleton.

On August 30, from the shores of Elephant Island, expedition artist George Marston spied the Yelcho in an opening in the mist. He yelled, “Ship O!” but the men thought he was announcing lunch. A few moments later the other men heard him running and shouting, “Wild, there’s a ship! Hadn’t we better light a flare?” Wild put a hole in their last tin of fuel, soaked clothes in it, walked to the end of the spit and set them ablaze. As the boat approached, Shackleton, who was standing on the bow, shouted to Wild, “Are you all well?”. Wild replied, “All safe, all well!” and Shackleton replied, “Thank God!”Within an hour they were headed back to the world from which no news had been heard since October, 1914. The men had survived 105 desolate days on Elephant Island.

Frank Wild and 21 other crew members were waiting at Elephant Island for Shackleton's return.

Shackleton returned to England in May 1917 with the country in the throes of World War I. At the age of 42 and suffering from a heart condition, he was unable to volunteer for service. However, more than 30 expedition members soon found themselves in the battle, many of them dying within weeks of their improbable return from the Antarctic. Shackleton’s original goal of an Antarctic crossing had been ambitious, and what actually transpired even more astonishing. For each of the men, the world they had known it before they left was truly never the same.

The noble appearance of Gray on Gray. A solemn rider atop his loyal servant. The image of General Robert E. Lee and his famed horse, Traveller, is one of the most lasting of the Civil War. But, there is a story beyond the oil paintings and old photographs. The story of Traveller is a story of a legendary General and his best friend.

Traveller began his life far away from cannon fire and blood soaked battlefields of the Civil War. His sire was Grey Eagle, a 16-hand gray racehorse that was famous for running in a $20,000 stake race in Louisville, Kentucky in 1839. Grey Eagle sired numerous successful race horses and saddle horses, and James W. Johnston, an appreciator of fine horses, purchased a mare named Flora that had been bred to Grey Eagle. He had her shipped to his home in Greenbrier County, Virginia, where the mare had her colt in 1857. Johnston ensured the colt’s Confederate association by naming him, Jeff Davis, after Jefferson Davis, the Mississippi senator who would soon become the President of the Confederacy.

A Young Robert E. Lee, while still a U.S. Army Officer.

The colt took the first prize at the Lewisburg, Virginia, fairs in 1859 and 1860. He was a sturdy horse, 16 hands high and 1,100 pounds, iron gray in color with black points, mane, and flowing tail. He had a local reputation as a very promising young horse.

In the spring of 1861, Robert E. Lee was an unknown military man commanding a small force in western Virginia. The quartermaster of the 3rd Virginia Infantry, Captain Joseph M. Broun, was directed to “purchase a good serviceable horse of the best Greenbrier stock for our use during the war.” Broun purchased the horse for $175, good money for the time, from James W. Johnston, and named him Greenbrier.

The Winds of War soon blew across the United States, and destiny would seem to bring the strong young steed and a bright young officer together. Robert E. Lee had resigned from the U.S. Army to join Virginia’s forces after the state seceded in 1861. He was sent to advise the former governor of Virginia, Brigadier General Henry Wise, after Wise’s Legion had failed to clear Federal troops from western Virginia in late August. Lee, who had his first glimpse of Traveller at that time, was immediately smitten and called the animal ‘my colt.’ But, the colt was still in possession of Captain Broun at the time. Orders sent Lee to South Carolina to examine coastal defenses, before he had a chance to try to obtain the horse from Captain Broun.

Lee and Traveller, shortly before their deaths.

As fate would have it, Captain Broun’s 3rd Regiment was transferred to South Carolina at roughly the same time. Lee once again ran across Broun riding the beautiful horse near Pocotaligo. The captain halted, and Lee inquired once again about the well being of ‘his colt.’ Broun, aware that Lee wanted the horse, and certainly not unconscious of their differences in rank, offered Greenbrier to Lee as a gift. The general declined, but offered to purchase him, provided he could borrow the horse for a week or so to learn his traits and characteristics. Broun honored his request and Lee was instantly hooked on the horse’s grace and good looks. Lee made an offer of 190 Confederate Dollars and the horse was his. Lee instantly changed his name to Traveller because of his ability to walk at a fast pace.

Despite the strong association Lee shared with Traveller, he did not begin to regularly ride him until after the spring 1862 Peninsula campaign. From that point on, he was the general’s most-used mount, even after Traveller reared and threw his owner shortly after the Second Battle of Manassas. His hands badly damaged in the fall, Lee was unable to mount up again until the Battle of Sharpsburg.

Some of the most noted and dramatic events involving Lee and Traveller occurred during the Overland campaign in 1864, when soldiers literally grabbed the horse’s reins to prevent their commander, and his horse, from personally leading attacks on six different occasions. The most notable incident occurred in the wilderness on May 6, when soldiers of the Texas Brigade surrounded Traveller and shouted, ‘Lee to the rear!’. On this day Traveller carried Lee until well after midnight and when they finally returned to camp, Lee dismounted and was too weak to hold himself up. Traveller presented his neck and the weary General threw his arms around the horse’s neck to hold himself upright.

A story that illustrates just how strong the bond between horse and rider was in the case of Lee and Traveller, was retold by Mrs. S.P. Lee (daughter of General W. N. Pendleton, chief of artillery of the Army of Northern Virginia, and widow of Colonel Edwin Grey Lee) and printed in May 2006 issue of America’s Civil War Magazine:

One afternoon in July of this year, the General rode down to the canal-boat landing to put on board a young lady who had been visiting his daughters and was returning home. He dismounted, tied Traveller to a post, and was standing on the boat making his adieux, when someone called out that Traveller was loose. Sure enough, the gallant grey was making his way up the road, increasing his speed as a number of boys and men tried to stop him. General Lee immediately stepped ashore, called to the crowd to stand still, and advancing a few steps gave a peculiar low whistle. At the first sound, Traveller stopped and pricked up his ears. The General whistled a second time, and the horse with a glad whinny turned and trotted quietly back to his master, who patted and coaxed him before tying him up again. To a bystander expressing surprise at the creature’s docility the General observed that he did not see how any man could ride a horse for any length of time without a perfect understanding being established between them.

Lee spent his final years as president of Washington College in Lexington, Va., where Traveller was allowed to graze the campus. During this time, Lee and Traveller would still ride over 40 miles on many days. He lost numerous hairs from his mane and tail as admirers plucked them for souvenirs. Lee commented that he was taking on the appearance of a “plucked chicken.”

Lee lived out his final days in peace at Washington University, renamed Washington and Lee after his death in 1870.

Lee became ill in September 1870, and on October 12 he died at his home in Lexington. In the funeral procession, Traveller walked behind the hearse, ready as always, for one more ride.

Traveller died shortly after Lee in June 1871, at the age of 14 He contracted tetanus after stepping on a nail and was euthanized to end his suffering. He was buried near Lee Chapel in Lexington, and in 1907 his bones were exhumed and displayed in the Washington and Lee Museum and later in the Lee Chapel basement until 1960. They were then reburied and remain in front of the chapel.

Before Lee’s death, the old General dictated a letter to his daughter Agnes, for an artist who wished to depict his horse. You will find no words more reflective of the love between the General and his most trusted friend:

If I were an artist like you I would draw a true picture of Traveller — representing his fine proportions, muscular figure, deep chest and short back, strong haunches, flat legs, small head, broad forehead, delicate ears, quick eye, small feet, and black mane and tail. Such a picture would inspire a poet, whose genius could then depict his worth and describe his endurance of toil, hunger, thirst, heat, and cold, and the dangers and sufferings through which he passed. He could dilate upon his sagacity and affection and his invariable response to every wish of his rider. He might even imagine his thoughts, through the long night marches and days of battle through which he has passed.

But I am no artist; I can only say he is a Confederate grey. I purchased him in the mountains of Virginia in the autumn of 1861, and he has been my patient follower ever since — to Georgia, the Carolinas, and back to Virginia. He carried me through the Seven Days battle around Richmond, the Second Manassas, at Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, the last day at Chancellorsville, to Pennsylvania, at Gettysburg, and back to the Rappahannock. From the commencement of the campaign in 1864 at Orange, till its close around Petersburg, the saddle was scarcely off his back, as he passed through the fire of the Wilderness, Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, and across the James River. He was almost in daily requisition in the winter of 1864-65 on the long line of defenses from Chickahominy, north of Richmond, to Hatcher’s Run, south of the Appomattox. In the campaign of 1865, he bore me from Petersburg to the final days at Appomattox Court House. You must know the comfort he is to me in my present retirement….Of all his companions in toil, ‘Richmond,’ ‘Brown Roan,’ ‘Ajax,’ and quiet ‘Lucy Long,’ he is the only one that retained his vigor. The first two expired under their onerous burden, the last two failed. You can, I am sure, from what I have said, paint his portrait.

-R.E. Lee

It has been called the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration. During the 25-year period between 1897 and 1922, both the scientific and geographic communities as well as the public eye were fixated on polar exploration. Sixteen major expeditions were launched during which both magnetic poles were reached, and countless data and specimens across a wide range of scientific disciplines were gathered. Norwegian Roald Amundsen, Englishman Sir Robert Falcon Scott and Australian Douglas Mawson led some of the most famous expeditions of the period. But, curiously, the man considered by many to the be the greatest explorer of the age never actually made it to the South Pole.

Ernest Henry Shackleton was born at Kilkea House, County Kildare, Ireland on February 15, 1874. His father Henry was a potato farmer, but shortly after Ernest’s birth one of Ireland’s fabled disastrous potato crops forced him to give up farming and enter the medical profession. In 1884, Henry and family crossed the water to England and settled in suburban London, where Ernest would spend the remainder of his boyhood.

Sir Ernest Shackleton

Henry Shackleton sent his son to Dulwich College in South London in hopes Ernest would follow him into medicine. The younger Shackleton had other ideas. At the age of 16, Ernest left school and set out for Liverpool where he boarded a merchant ship named the Hoghton Tower.

Bound for Valparaiso, Brazil, the Hoghton Tower reached Cape Horn in the middle of winter and was battered by brutal seas for nearly two months before rounding the Cape and finally reaching its destination. A year later and running low on food and water, the ship and its crew pulled back into the Port of Liverpool. The voyage was brutal, especially for a 16-year old greenhorn, and would be a harbinger of hardships on the seas to come for Shackleton.

Shackleton had become a Master seaman by the age of 24, and in 1900, he volunteered for the National Antarctic Expedition, commanded by Sir Robert Falcon Scott. On July 31, 1901, Shackleton, Scott and crew set out on the Discovery bound for the Antarctica by way of New Zealand. The ship would dock at the coast and a small group would then set out on foot in hopes of reaching the closest possible latitude to the South Pole. The Discovery reached the Antarctic Coast on January 2, 1902, and Scott chose Shackleton to join him and scientist Edward Wilson on the expedition’s hike southward.

Sir Robert Falcon Scott's research ship, Discovery.

The trio achieved a record “Farthest South” latitude of 82°17′, beating the previous mark established by Carsten Borchgrevink in 1900. However, the journey was a treacherous one, marked by the death of all 22 sled dogs, and Shackleton, Scott and Wilson suffering frostbite and scurvy. Shackleton fell particularly ill, and was sent home before the remainder of the crew on the relief ship Morning. On June 12, 1903 Shackleton became the first Englishman to ever return home from Antarctic soil.

Shackleton and other crew members in Antarctica.

Shackelton spent the next two years as secretary to the Royal Scottish Geographical Society, but following a failed run at political office, he found himself without income and longing to return to the Antarctic. With the support of the Royal Geographic Society in London and backing of King Edward VII, on July 1907 Shackleton and crew boarded the sailing vessel Nimrod en route to New Zealand and ultimately Antarctica. With Shackleton heading the expedition, their stated goal was the discovery of the magnetic South Pole.

In early February 1908, the Nimrod arrived at Hut Point Peninsula on the Antarctic coast. At Cape Royds, the crew pieced together a pre-fabricated wooden hut that would house the 15-person crew, and settled in for winter. When spring arrived, the camp broke into two small groups that set out in opposite directions – one south, the other north – with plans to meet at the South Magnetic Pole.

The Nimrod expedition's hut camp at Cape Royds.

On October 29, Shackleton, head of provisions Frank Wild, meteorologist Jameson Adams, and surgeon and cartographer Dr. Eric Marshall headed southward on a 1700-mile walk in search of the Pole. Twenty-nine days later, the group passed Scott’s 1902 “furthest south” record. By Christmas, the group was just 250 miles from the South Pole, but it was obvious that the voyage was in trouble. Hurricane force headwinds and blinding snow slowed the group’s daily march to crawl, and they had resorted to shooting their sledge horses for meat.

Shackleton's group planted the Union Jack at the new farthest South point before turning back.

Weak from a lack of food and battling blizzards and the constant threat of frostbite, Shackleton made the decision to turn back on January 9, 1909. Their farthest south point was reached that morning: 88°23′S, longitude 162° – just 97 miles from the South Pole. The group planted the Union Jack, posed for a picture, waited a few minutes then turned and headed back to Cape Royds. The North-bound group became the first people to ascend Mt. Erebus (the southernmost volcano in the world) and reached the approximate location of the South Magnetic Pole before turning back. The entire crew made it back to England safely. Shackleton returned a hero and was knighted by the King.

Shackleton received a hero's welcome in London.

The race to the South Pole would end less than three years later on December 14, 1911 when Amundsen arrived at 90°00′S. He reached the Pole just 35 days before a British group led by Scott; Shackleton was at home in England.

With the quest to reach the Pole over, Shackelton turned his eyes toward what he believed to be the last remaining polar triumph. In Shackleton’s own words, “After the conquest of the South Pole by Amundsen who, by a narrow margin of days only, was in advance of the British Expedition under Scott, there remained but one great main object of Antarctic journeyings–the crossing of the South Polar continent from sea to sea.”

Soon, that pursuit to cross Antarctica on foot would forever alter the life of Shackleton and 27 other men.

Editor’s Note: This was Part I of our two-part profile on Sir Ernest Shackleton. Stay tuned for Part II coming soon.

The USS Constitution was the first commissioned ship of the United States Navy. The construction of the ship was authorized by President George Washington in 1794. The Third Congress had previously requested that some action be taken to protect American merchant ships, which were being attacked with increasing frequency by North African and British ships. The steps taken by Congress and the President essentially resulted in the creation of the US Navy, as well as the USS Constitution. But, if it weren’t for the acts of a scholarly poet the ship would have been destroyed–something no navy in the world had been able to do.

Six ships were designed by naval architect Joshua Humpries and one of the ships, the Constitution, was to be built in Edmund Hartt’s shipyard in Boston, Massachusetts. The construction of the Constitution cost $302,700 and over 2,000 trees. The cannons on the ship were fastened with copper fixtures crafted by a blacksmith named Paul Revere, who is better known for his famous midnight ride. The ship was launched on October 21, 1797 and it has remained a part of the US Navy since, thanks in large part to the work of poet, Oliver Wendell Holmes.

In September of 1830, Holmes read a short article in the Boston Daily Advertiser about the renowned 18th century frigate, which was scheduled to be destroyed by the Navy, Holmes was moved to write “Old Ironsides” in opposition to the ship’s scrapping. The patriotic poem was published in the Advertiser on September 16, 1830, today’s date 179 years ago.

Old Ironsides
By Oliver Wendell Holmes
September 16, 1830

Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky;
Beneath it rung the battle shout,
And burst the cannon’s roar; —
The meteor of the ocean air
Shall sweep the clouds no more.

Her deck, once red with heroes’ blood,
Where knelt the vanquished foe,
When winds were hurrying o’er the flood,
And waves were white below,
No more shall feel the victor’s tread,
Or know the conquered knee; —
The harpies of the shore shall pluck
The eagle of the sea!

Oh, better that her shattered hulk
Should sink beneath the wave;
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
And there should be her grave;
Nail to the mast her holy flag,
Set every threadbare sail,
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale!

The eight-stanza poem was soon printed by papers in New York, Philadelphia and Washington, and brought the author immediate national attention. It generated enough public sentiment that the historic ship was preserved.

The Constitution is most famous for her actions during the War of 1812 against Great Britain, when she captured numerous merchant ships and defeated five British warships: HMS Guerriere, Java, Pictou, Cyane and Levant. The battle with Guerriere earned her the nickname of “Old Ironsides”, because her hull, made mostly of Southern Live Oak, was 21 inches thick and almost indestructible.

Old Ironsides last set sail in 1997, for her 200th birthday.

She continued to actively serve the nation as flagship in the Mediterranean and African squadrons and circled the world in the 1840s. During the American Civil War she served as a training ship for the United States Naval Academy and carried artwork and industrial displays to the Paris Exposition of 1878. Retired from active service in 1881, she served as a receiving ship until designated a museum ship in 1907. In 1931 she began a 90-port tour of the nation and in 1997 she finally sailed again under her own power for her 200th birthday. Today, Old Ironsides is docked in the Charlestown Naval Yard and serves as the site of the USS Constitution Museum. This makes it the oldest commissioned warship, still afloat, in the world.

Oliver Wendell Holmes.

About Oliver Wendall Holmes: Oliver Wendell Holmes was an intellectual triple threat as doctor, speaker, and author and was one of the most influential citizens of leading citizen of 19th-century Boston and one of the most brilliant minds of the era. He graduated from Harvard in 1829 and Holmes studied medicine in Paris, then returned to Harvard and earned his M.D. in 1836. At the young age of 33 he became the first dean of Harvard Medical School and from 1847 until 1882 he was a popular professor of physiology and anatomy and his research produced a groundbreaking 1843 paper on “The Contagiousness of Puerperal Fever.”

He also became a highly regarded public speaker at Boston affairs of all sorts. Beyond that, he published many volumes of writings and essays throughout his life, starting with “Poems” in 1836. In 1858 he helped found the magazine Atlantic Monthly, which he named. For many years he wrote the magazine’s popular feature “The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table,” whose protagonist was based at an imaginary boarding house, dishing up witty opinions on a variety of subjects. Holmes teamed with Boston’s literary elite of the day, which included his good friends Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and James Russell Lowell, to leave a powerful impression on the literary world of the 19th century.

He died in 1894 and was survived by his son, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., who was one of the most influential justices of the U.S. Supreme Court from 1902-32.

Winston Churchill is widely acknowledged as one of the most important men of the 20th Century. His gift of leadership, mastery of the written word, and gripping oratory is noted in the history books in schools around the world. He will forever and most chiefly be remembered as a key figure in the events of World War II and a champion of democracy. Democracy was perhaps Churchill’s most consuming passion and he devoted his working life to its pursuit.

But, it was a different type of pursuit, usually practiced under aliases, that served as his passion throughout the latter part of his life.

Because he practiced his hobby under a pseudonym, it was many years until the greater public knew Churchill was a prodigious painter, producing more than 500 works and exhibiting at London’s prestigious Royal Academy. Painting served as his greatest release and diversion, yet it still remains widely unknown that Churchill was a well respected artist. Painting also served as his ammunition against the “black dog” of depression, which plagued Churchill throughout his life. “If it weren’t for painting, I couldn’t live, I couldn’t bear the strain of things,” Churchill said.

Study of Boats, arguably Churchill's most acclaimed work, shows his talent.

His paintings can now be found in galleries and private collections throughout the world, recently fetching into the seven figures. The greatest collection of his paintings is at Chartwell, his beloved country estate in Kent, which the British National Trust now owns.

Churchill didn’t begin painting until he was forty, yet was quickly engulfed in an artist’s pursuits. He possessed an extremely heightened sense of perception that aided him throughout his life in politics. But, this same sense of perception served as a quite a gift for Churchill the painter. The gift of the artist is in painting the often seen and making it appear never seen. Churchill was able to do this in many of his acclaimed works.

Churchill at work in Morocco.

Churchill first picked up the brush after the World War I to serve as an escape from public scrutiny and political turmoil. He found his political career in jeopardy with the 1915 failure of the Dardanelles expedition for which he was blamed. The public criticism was harsh. Relegated to the minor position of Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, he soon resigned to join the army as a colonel. While awaiting embarkation for France, he picked up the brush and palette as a form of relaxation and distraction from the frustration of watching the war progress, unable to influence events.

Encouragement to persevere with his new found hobby stemmed from an amateur prize he won for “Winter Sunshine, Chartwell,” a bright reflection of his Kentish home. He sent five paintings to be exhibited in Paris in the 1920s. Four were sold for £30 each. This delighted Churchill, but it was inner victory as he had entered the contest under the hidden identity, Charles Morin.

Churchill achieved critical acclaim in 1947, while still Prime Minister, when he offered works to the Royal Academy under the pseudonym, Mr. Winter. Two works were accepted and eventually the title of Honorary Academician Extraordinary was conferred upon him. In addition to a handsome title, the renowned painter Sir Oswald Birley observed, “If Churchill had given the time to art that he has given to politics, he would have been by all odds the world’s greatest painter.”

Connoisseurs of Churchill’s art stoutly defend their individual preference, but there are convincing arguments for bestowing highest praise on “The Blue Sitting Room, Trent Park” which was sold in 1949 to aid charity.

The Blue Sitting Room, Trent Park was the first Churchill work that caught the eye of the critics.

After he stepped down as British Prime Minister for a final time in 1950, the amount of time available to pursuit his passion was suddenly plentiful. He preferred to take outings in order to paint the impressionist landscapes which he enjoyed the most and accordingly, painted the best. Most always using oils, Churchill never traveled or vacationed without a canvas-usually working on a piece that was to be a gift to a dear friend. Churchill presented U.S. Presidents Franklin D. Roosevelt and Harry S. Truman with his works.

Despite outward flippancy, Churchill had a true craftsman’s dedication when he took up a paint brush. He consulted teachers admired for their professionalism. He was fond of citing Ruskin’s Elements of Drawing and readily accepted Sir William Orpen’s suggestion that he should visit Avignon, “where the light can verge on a miracle”. He recalled an encounter on the Cete d’Azur with artists who worshiped at the throne of Cezanne and gratefully acknowledged the inspiration he derived from their exchange. Marrakech, Morocco always brought out the best in him and served as a source of several of his best works.

Marrakech was a gift to Harry Truman.

A winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature, Churchill was conscious of the role artistic pursuits played in the overall strength of the mind. In 1921, He wrote an essay entitled “Painting as a Pastime” which was later published in book form in England and the United States. The essay is much more than a book on painting–it is a very intimate look into Churchill’s views on the human mind. It has gone largely unnoticed amid the endless books on Churchill, but offers insight into his brilliance that cannot be seen in any other works. On the importance of challenging the brain with new activity:

“Change is the master key. A man can wear out a particular part of his mind by continually using it and tiring it, just in the same way as he can wear out the elbows of his coat. There is, however, this difference between the living cells of the brain and inanimate articles: one cannot mend the frayed elbows of a coat by rubbing the sleeves or shoulders; but the tired parts of the mind can be rested and strengthened, not merely by rest, but by using other parts.

It is only when new cells are called into activity, when new stars become the Lords of the ascendant, that relief, repose, refreshment are afforded.”

And on the importance of taking reprieve from work:

“It may also be said that rational, industrious, useful human beings are divided into two classes: first, those whose work is work and whose pleasure is pleasure; and secondly, those whose work and pleasure are one. Of these the former are the majority. They have their compensations. The long hours in die office or the factory bring with them as their reward, not only the means of sustenance, but a keen appetite for pleasure even in its simplest and most modest forms.

But Fortune’s favoured children belong to the second class. Their life is a natural harmony. For them the working hours are never long enough. Each day is a holiday, and ordinary holidays when they come are grudged as enforced interruptions in an absorbing vocation.

Yet to both classes the need of an alternative outlook, of a change of atmosphere, of a diversion of effort, is essential. Indeed, It may well be that those whose work is their pleasure are those most need the means of banishing It at intervals from their minds.”

Churchill died in 1965, with his art being widely unknown to the general public. Since his death his paintings have earned over $10 million dollars, and in 2007, “Chartwell Landscape with Sheep” sold for more than $2 million. Today his works are widely sought after by auction houses around the world.