Tidbits of History — November 2025

Interesting Facts From Our Past — by John Devoti

Two hundred seventy-five years ago, on November 11, 1750, students at the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia, formed the Flat Hat Club (FHC), the first college fraternity. The initials likely also stand for "Fraternitas, Humanitas, et Cognitio" (Brotherhood, Humanity, and Knowledge). The club was a secret, social club that, to member Thomas Jefferson, "had no useful object." Members eventually lost interest in the society, and it ended in the early 1770s. A few years later, in 1776, the Phi Beta Kappa club was formed at the College of William and Mary, the first Greek-letter fraternity.

Two hundred and fifty years ago, on November 7, 1775, John Murray, the fourth Earl of Dunmore and royal governor of the American colony of Virginia, issued the Lord Dunmore Offer of Emancipation. This proclamation promised freedom to enslaved people and indentured servants in the colony if they agreed to take up arms against American rebels. This was the first large-scale emancipation in North America. Six months earlier, Dunmore fled the Virginia capital, Williamsburg, for Norfolk because of rumors he was considering the action. With only a few hundred royal troops supporting him, Dunmore hoped he could expand his army with "Lord Dunmore’s Ethiopian Regiment," while also giving rebellious plantation owners more to think about. Soon after the proclamation, the Virginia Convention issued an offer to escaped slaves, allowing them to return to their owners within ten days without facing punishment. Between 800 and 2000 men accepted Lord Dunmore’s offer, but a smallpox outbreak reduced that number to about 300. Nonetheless, estimates suggest that at least 100,000 slaves attempted to escape during the war.

Two hundred fifty years ago, on November 10, 1775, Samuel Nicholas formed the United States Marine Corps at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia, just one of several notable events that happened at the tavern. Samuel Carpenter established Tun Tavern in 1685, just three years after the Pennsylvania colony was established. Located at the corner of Tun Alley and Water Street, the tavern had a reputation for serving the best beer in town. In 1732, the first American Freemason lodge was formed at Tun Tavern, and it would eventually become home to the Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania. Later, the St. George’s Society and the St. Andrews Society were founded to help needy Philadelphians. Benjamin Franklin formed the Pennsylvania Militia in 1756, and a congressional committee led by John Adams in October 1775 drafted a declaration of war and commissioned a naval fleet from the tavern. A month later, the Continental Congress assigned Samuel Nicholas the task of forming two battalions of marines, and he set up recruitment at the tavern.

Seventy-five years ago, on November 8, 1950, US Air Force Lt. Russell Brown shot down two North Korean MiG-15s in the first jet-to-jet dogfight. In early November, American General Douglas MacArthur authorized a bombing campaign against North Korean cities to eliminate military targets and slow the Chinese advance across the Yalu River. At the same time, Soviet-built MiG-15s joined the fight, the first time the Americans had faced the MiGs. On November 8, a group of F-80s was ordered to strafe the airfield at Sinuiju, where they met the North Korean jets. After their strafing runs, Lieutenant Russell and Major Evans Stephens were providing cover for the other fighters when Stephens spotted two MiGs, and the two pilots attacked. With only one gun still working (the others had jammed during the strafing run), Brown shot down both airplanes. The entire fight lasted less than a minute.

Finally, fifty years ago, on November 22, 1975, Juan Carlos was declared King of Spain after the death of Francisco Franco. In 1931, King Alfonso XIII fled Spain, and the Spanish Republic was proclaimed. At the end of the Spanish Civil War in 1939, Franco formed a fascist dictatorship. In 1969, recognizing he would not live forever, Franco designated Juan Carlos to succeed him as head of a constitutional monarchy. A scandal involving the king’s daughter and declining health led to his abdication in 2014. Juan Carlos was succeeded by his son, the current king Felipe VI.


About the Author

In the early 1990s, John Devoti had a midlife crisis. He did not want a motorcycle (those things are dangerous) or a new wife (his was very cute). Instead, he quit his auditing job and returned to school for his history doctorate. He wrote The Patriotic Business of Seeking Office: James K. Polk and the Patronage. It was not a bestseller. He taught college history for almost twenty years before retiring, and still dabbles by volunteering as a docent at the Roebling Museum in South Jersey. By the way, his wife and editor, Judy, is still very cute.

📖 John’s columns are collected in Tidbits of History: 25 Years of Historical Morsels — available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and at the Roebling Museum.

Tidbits of History — October 2025

Interesting Facts From Our Past — by John Devoti

Four hundred twenty-five years ago, on October 6, 1600, Euridice, the oldest surviving opera, had its premiere. The first opera, La Dafne, by Jacopo Peri, premiered three years earlier in front of a private audience. Its score and libretto have since been lost. Euridice was Peri’s second opera and premiered during the marriage celebration of Marie de Medici to Henry IV of France. As with La Dafne, Euridice premiered to a small audience. Peri created a style that included part spoken and part sung dialogue, similar to today’s operettas. The innovation of sung dialogue was new to drama. The show was a success, not so much for its artistic novelty but for the opulence of the set design. However, the style soon caught on and quickly played to large audiences.

Four hundred twenty-five years ago, on October 21, 1600, Tokugawa Ieyasu defeated the leaders of rival Japanese clans in the Battle of Sekigahara and claimed the title of shogun of Japan, the military leader. The Ashikaga shogunate was a military government that ruled Japan beginning in 1336. The shogunate gradually weakened, and a long civil war raged during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Oda Nobunaga overthrew the shogunate in 1573. He was succeeded upon his death in 1582 by Toyotomi Hideyoshi. Toyotomi appointed five regents to protect his son Toyotomi Hideyori upon his death in 1598 and preserve the Toyotomi dynasty. The regents soon fell out, and after an assassination attempt against Tokugawa Ieyasu, one of the regents, Tokugawa, retreated to Osaka Castle and adopted the role of sole protector. On August 22, 1600, Tokugawa declared war on the rest of the Japanese clans. Tokugawa and his 89,000-man army met the clans at Sekigahara, a small mountainous valley near Kyoto, defeating the clans and taking power, beginning the Tokugawa shogunate, which retained power until 1868.

Two hundred twenty-five years ago, on October 1, 1800, Spain ceded Louisiana to France. The Louisiana Territory originally covered the area from the Rocky Mountains to the British colonies along the East Coast. After the Seven Years’ War (1756-1763), France surrendered Eastern Louisiana to Great Britain and Western Louisiana to Spain. In the late 1790s, France and the United States fought an undeclared naval war, mainly in the Caribbean, after the US suspended loan payments to France and signed a trade treaty with Great Britain. France and America settled the conflict on September 30, 1800, the day before France reacquired Louisiana. Fearing French control of the Mississippi, US President Thomas Jefferson began negotiations with French First Consul Napoleon Bonaparte. Secretary of State James Madison completed the sale in 1803 for fifteen million dollars.

Seventy-five years ago, on October 11, 1950, the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) licensed the first color television system, which was CBS’ field-sequential color system. During that year, CBS and RCA vied to become the first approved system. RCA’s system had the advantage of being compatible with black-and-white TVs, but it was ultimately rejected due to poor picture quality. TV producers resisted manufacturing the CBS product because it was expensive, the picture flickered, and it made eight million black-and-white sets obsolete. CBS did start producing several color shows, the first of which premiered in June 1951. Although most people who owned color televisions watched the show, it only aired in Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington, DC. Ultimately, RCA won the "color wars." Its color television system was approved in late 1953 and allowed shows to be filmed in color while being transmitted to all types of TVs using a shorter bandwidth than CBS’ system. Additionally, black-and-white televisions could use adapters to receive these color broadcasts.

Finally, twenty-five years ago, on October 12, 2000, two suicide bombers piloting a small boat filled with explosives severely damaged the USS Cole. The Cole had docked in Aden, Yemen. The bomb blew a forty-foot hole in the side of the ship, killed seventeen crew members, and wounded forty. The attack on the Cole was the second attempt on an American vessel. On January 3, 2000, suicide bombers tried to damage the USS The Sullivans, but the bomb detonated prematurely. Within a few months, FBI and Yemeni investigators arrested two suspects, members of Al Qaida, but they were not convicted until 2004 and released by Yemeni officials in 2007. They were later killed in American airstrikes. Another suspect is in US custody, while a fourth is still wanted.


About the Author

In the early 1990s, John Devoti had a midlife crisis. He did not want a motorcycle (those things are dangerous) or a new wife (his was very cute). Instead, he quit his auditing job and returned to school for his history doctorate. He wrote The Patriotic Business of Seeking Office: James K. Polk and the Patronage. It was not a bestseller. He taught college history for almost twenty years before retiring, and still dabbles by volunteering as a docent at the Roebling Museum in South Jersey. By the way, his wife and editor, Judy, is still very cute.

📖 John’s columns are collected in Tidbits of History: 25 Years of Historical Morsels — available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and at the Roebling Museum.

Tidbits of History — September 2025

Interesting Facts From Our Past — by John Devoti

One hundred twenty-five years ago, on September 8, 1900, the Galveston hurricane hit Texas, virtually destroying the city of Galveston and killing between ten and twelve thousand people. By comparison, Hurricane Katrina (2005), the most devastating recent storm, killed about fifteen hundred. Several factors led to the high casualty rate. The United States Weather Service was in its infancy, and hurricane prediction was spotty at best. Ships could not yet use wireless telegraphy to send radio alerts. Cuba did know of the hurricane and had alerted Texas of the storm’s path, but Americans assumed Cubans knew nothing of weather forecasting. Finally, Galvestonians had never experienced a major storm and assumed all such storms would turn left or right and avoid the island. This hubris meant almost nobody evacuated the island.

Seventy-five years ago, on September 15, 1950, US forces landed at Inchon in South Korea. After North Korea’s attack in June 1950, American and South Korean forces had lost steadily until all but a small defensive bubble around Pusan remained. Allied commander Douglas MacArthur designed a daring plan for a beach landing behind the North Korean lines. The American Joint Chiefs of Staff were nervous about the plan. If it failed, America had too few reserves, and South Korea would be lost. Also, an amphibious landing of this size was considered impossible without overwhelming casualties. However, North Korea was completely unprepared, and casualties were light. US forces soon recaptured Seoul, South Korea’s capital, and quickly advanced into North Korea almost to the Chinese border. The war would have been over quickly except for communist China’s intervention. The allies retreated, and the fighting settled into a three-year stalemate along the current North-South border.

Finally, fifty years ago, on September 5 and September 22, 1975, two women attempted to assassinate President Gerald Ford. In the first attempt, Lynette "Squeaky" Fromme was stopped by Secret Service agents after she pulled a gun. Ford was visiting Sacramento to meet with California Governor Jerry Brown and had stopped to greet well-wishers after leaving his hotel room. Fromme was a former member of the Manson Family cult but did not participate in the Tate-LaBianca murders of 1969. The gun Fromme carried had four rounds, but the chamber was empty. She was sentenced to life in prison. Less than three weeks later, Sara Jane Moore attempted to shoot the president. Ford was again in California, this time to attend the AFL-CIO convention in San Francisco. Moore fired two shots, the first missing Ford by a few inches. A bystander grabbed Moore’s hand, and the second shot hit another person in the crowd. The forty-five-year-old Moore developed radical beliefs after becoming fascinated with Patricia Hearst and the Symbionese Liberation Army. She said she wanted to start a revolution against the US government. She, too, was sentenced to life in prison. In October, the Secret Service made the president start wearing a bulletproof trench coat.


About the Author

In the early 1990s, John Devoti had a midlife crisis. He did not want a motorcycle (those things are dangerous) or a new wife (his was very cute). Instead, he quit his auditing job and returned to school for his history doctorate. He wrote The Patriotic Business of Seeking Office: James K. Polk and the Patronage. It was not a bestseller. He taught college history for almost twenty years before retiring, and still dabbles by volunteering as a docent at the Roebling Museum in South Jersey. By the way, his wife and editor, Judy, is still very cute.

📖 John’s columns are collected in Tidbits of History: 25 Years of Historical Morsels — available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and at the Roebling Museum.

Tidbits of History — August 2025

Interesting Facts From Our Past — by John Devoti

This month, let’s look at sayings that make little sense. For example, "as sick as a dog" suggests that dogs tend to be sicker than other animals. The expression first appears in Harvey’s Works, a collection of letters and sonnets by Gabriel Harvey. During that period, domestic dogs were generally less healthy; they were not kept as pets but were primarily working animals, not pampered by their owners. In addition, many strays roamed the cities, making them susceptible to various outdoor diseases and ailments common to denizens of cities, where sanitation was rarely adequate. Thus, the expression "sick as a dog" had genuine significance. Other phrases still used today from this period are "dog tired" or "living a dog’s life," neither of which seems relevant.

When somebody says they are feeling good, they might use the phrase "as happy as a clam." However, clams do not seem to be especially cheerful ocean creatures and likely lack the intelligence to understand happiness or sadness. This idiom has been around for quite a while. One of the earliest examples is found in James Hall’s The Harpe’s Head: A Legend of Kentucky in 1833. The phrase is more accurately "happy as a clam in high water." The point is that clams are less likely to become bird food when the high tide covers them, making them safer and, therefore, "happier."

Five hundred fifty years ago, on August 29, 1475, the Treaty of Picquigny ended a brief war between France and England. The Hundred Years War (1337-1453) ended twenty years earlier, but hostility between France and England still bubbled below the surface. In 1474, English King Edward IV reached an agreement with Charles the Bold for his support of an English invasion of France. Charles reneged on the agreement once Edward landed, and France’s Louis XI easily repulsed the invasion. The two sides quickly agreed to end hostilities and agreed to a seven-year truce. Louis would supply Edward and some of his advisors a pension if England stopped bothering him. They also agreed to a marital alliance between Edward’s daughter, Elizabeth of York, and the Dauphin Charles when the couple was old enough. Edward reneged on the marriage deal, and Elizabeth eventually married England’s King Henry VII to end the War of the Roses. By then, England’s internal politics made another invasion of France unlikely.

Four hundred twenty-five years ago, on August 5, 1600, the Gowrie Conspiracy, a purported attack against King James VI of Scotland, took place. King James owed the Ruthven brothers (John, third Earl of Gowrie, and Alexander) 80,000 Scot’s pounds. The king not only wanted to have the debt canceled but also coveted the Ruthvens’ land holdings. John Ruthven was studying at the University of Padua, and, upon his return, he asked to see the king about the debt. James arrived at Gowrie House unannounced. Once he entered the house, James claimed the brothers brought him alone to a locked room and threatened to kill him. The king’s aides rescued him, killing Alexander in the process. The rest of the household was arrested and tried for treason. Gowrie and his servants were all executed except for Alexander Henderson, Gowrie’s assistant, whom many believed was James’ spy. Although James ordered his version of events circulated across the kingdom, most considered the incident a complex land grab.

Seventy-five years ago, on August 25, 1950, President Truman ordered Secretary of the Army Frank Pace to seize control of the nation’s railroads to avert a national rail strike. Truman had a history of interfering in labor negotiations. In 1946, he threatened to nationalize the railways but did not follow through. A strike began but was settled within a week. In 1950, the rail workers again threatened a strike. This time, two months after America entered the Korean War, Truman followed through on his threat and ordered the army to oversee the railroads while the two sides negotiated, using national security concerns to justify the takeover. The negotiations lasted twenty-one months, and after the settlement, the army turned control back over to the companies. In 1952, Truman tried to nationalize the steel industry for the same reasons, but the Supreme Court stopped the action, saying no federal laws permitted the president to take such measures.

Finally, the phrase "he pulled himself up by his bootstraps" is commonly used to describe a politician or businessman who has risen in their field without any outside help. However, this idea seems illogical, as the notion of pulling oneself up by the bootstraps sounds like a great way to end up falling on your butt. There is a reason the phrase appears silly—it originally meant the exact opposite of its current meaning. The Mobile, Alabama Advertiser commented on Nimrod Murphree’s claim to have invented a perpetual motion machine, writing, "Probably Mr. Murphree has succeeded in handing himself over the Cumberland river, or a barn yard fence, by the straps of his boots." Throughout the 1800s, many continued to use this description to ridicule people who made impossible claims. As late as 1927, the London Sunday Times mocked American self-improvement as "The American Bootstrapper." It is unclear when critics shifted from using the phrase for ridicule to using it as praise.


About the Author

In the early 1990s, John Devoti had a midlife crisis. He did not want a motorcycle (those things are dangerous) or a new wife (his was very cute). Instead, he quit his auditing job and returned to school for his history doctorate. He wrote The Patriotic Business of Seeking Office: James K. Polk and the Patronage. It was not a bestseller. He taught college history for almost twenty years before retiring, and still dabbles by volunteering as a docent at the Roebling Museum in South Jersey. By the way, his wife and editor, Judy, is still very cute.

📖 John’s columns are collected in Tidbits of History: 25 Years of Historical Morsels — available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and at the Roebling Museum.