Jennifer Bohnhoff's Blog, page 14

Kozlowski's Ranch: Important Site in the Battle of Glorieta

The decisive battle in the Confederacy's attempt to take New Mexico during the Civil War took place on March 26-28, 1862. Called the Battle of Glorieta, or the Battle of Glorieta Pass, it ranged through a narrow mountain pass that was the last leg of the Old Santa Fe Trail before it reached Santa Fe. Three ranches, owned by three very different characters, were settings for this battle.  Martin Kozlowski came to the area by a circuitous route. He was born in Warsaw, Poland in 1827 and fought in the 1848 revolution against the  Prussians. He was a refugee for two years in England, during which time he met and married an Irish woman named Ellene. The two immigrated to American in 1853, and Martin enlisted in the First Dragoons, who were fighting Apaches in the Southwest.

Martin must have fallen in  love with New Mexico during his Army years. In 1858 he mustered out and used his 160-acre government bounty land warrant to purchase the land on the far eastern edge of Glorieta Pass. Here, the Pecos River meets Glorieta Stream in a wide, flat area that is well watered and has fertile soil. Kozlowski's 600 acre spread included 50 improved acres, which consisted of a home for the family, a trading post, a tavern, and rooms for travelers. It had a spring for fresh water, and lots of forage for horses and mules. The 1860 agriculture census shows that Kozlowski grew corn and raised livestock, but a lot of his livelihood came from accommodating for travelers on the Santa Fe trail. The Spanish mission church at Pecos Pueblo. The entrance to a kiva is in the foreground This area had been settled long before the Santa Fe Trail opened. Perhaps the first settlers in the area were the people who founded Pecos Pueblo sometime around AD 1100. Historically known as Cicuye (sometimes spelled Ciquique), which mean the "village of 500 warriors," the Pueblo was visited by the Spanish explorer  Francisco Vásquez de Coronado in 1540. The Spanish mission church was built in 1619 and the kiva in 1680, after a revolt that caused the Spanish to abandon the area. In 1838, attacks by Comanches compelled the inhabitants to abandon the area and move in with their relatives at the Walatowa Pueblo in Jemez. Twenty years later, Kozlowski moved to the area and used some of the timbers and bricks from the abandoned pueblo to build his buildings. Martin Kozlowski in front of his trading post.








​Kozlowski's ranch became site of Camp Lewis, the headquarters for the Union Army during the Battle of Glorieta. The troops were mostly men from Colorado, who had come from Camp Wells in Denver, through Raton Pass, and stopped in Fort Union. Their leader, John Slough, intended to engage the Confederates in Santa Fe and was surprised to encounter Confederate troops in the pass. 

The Union Army continued to maintain a hospital in Kozlowski's tavern for another two months after the battle was over.

After the war, Kozlowski complimented them, saying “When they camped on my place, they never robbed me of anything, not even a chicken.” Perhaps their good behavior was because Kozlowski was former military himself. The early 1870s appear to be the high point for the Kozlowski family's enterprises. In 1873, U.S. Attorney T.B. Catron sued him for violating a federal law that prevented non-Indians from settling on pueblo land grants. The case went all the way to the Supreme Court, but ultimately Martin paid  $1,000 and was able to keep his land. In 1880 the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad ran its line through the canyon, effectively ending the lucrative Santa Fe Trail traffic. Soon thereafter, Kozlowski moved to Albuquerque, where he died in 1905.  Kozlowski's ranch traded hands several times after he left it. Sometimes, it was a working ranch. At other times, It became a dude ranch where tourists could live like pampered cowboys. In 1939, a Texas oilman and rancher named  Buddy Fogelson bought the property and renamed it The Forked Lightning Ranch. Fogelson's widow, the actress Greer Garson, donated the ranch to the National Park Service in 1991. It is now part of Pecos National Park.   Kozlowski's Ranch is one of the major settings for The Worst Enemy, which will be published  August 15, 2023.. 


The Worst Enemy is book 2 of Rebels Along the Rio Grande, a trilogy of middle grade historical novels about New Mexico during the Civil War.

​Book 1: Where Duty Calls, is available in ebook and paperback. 

Pigeon's Ranch: Important Site in the Battle of Glorieta

The Battle of Glorieta Pass ranged through a narrow mountain divide in the Sangre de Cristo mountains just east of Santa Fe on March 26-28, 1862. The pass was part of the Santa Fe trail that had connected Old Santa Fe to Franklin, Missouri for nearly half a century. The three ranches involved in the battle were also used as way stops along the trail. Three very different characters owned and operated the ranches.

Union troops were headquartered at a ranch on the eastern end of the pass that was owned by a Polish immigrant named Kozlowski. You can read more about him and his ranch here.

The Confederate base was at Johnson's ranch, located at the western mouth of the canyon.  Pigeon's Ranch in the 1880s. Between Kozlowski's and Johnson's place sat Pigeon's ranch, which operated a hotel and saloon and was a popular watering hole along the trail. Pigeon's Ranch was the frequent venue for fandangos, the local dances.

Pigeon's ranch was owed by a French immigrant whose very name is a matter of speculation. Some records list him as Alexander Pigeon. Some sources, however, say that Pigeon was a nickname he received because he strutted and flapped his elbows when he danced, making him look rather like a pigeon. On some documents, he is named Alexander Valle. Some historians suggest that Valle is less a surname as a placename given to him because his establishment was in the center of the valley. Both Pigeon and Valle are names that can be found in France, so either may be the man's actual name. An old postcard showing Pigeon's Ranch. Early in the morning of March 26, a Union scouting party led by Lt. George Nelson encountered and captured a Confederate scouting party near Pigeon's Ranch. The two armies clashed west of the ranch later that day. By nightfall, Union Forces had fallen back to Pigeon's ranch, which had become a hospital for wounded and dying men on both sides. Two days later, the ranch was the center of the battle, its short adobe walls shielding Union soldiers from the oncoming Confederates. In 1986, a mass grave with the skeletons of 31 Confederate soldiers was discovered on the property.  In this depiction of The Battle of Glorieta Pass by Roy Anderson, Pigeon's Ranch is shown in the background. The Battle of Glorieta Pass is sometimes called 'The Gettys-burg of the West" because it is the battle that marks the farthest north the Confederate Army got in the New Mexico Campaign. Had H.H. Sibley's forces not been turned back here, they might have taken the Colorado gold fields, then turned west and taken the gold and harbors of California, and the Civil War might have ended very differently.  But this battle could easily have been called The Battle of Three Ranches because of where it was fought. Jennifer Bohnhoff is an educator and author who lives in the mountains of central New Mexico. The view from her backyard includes the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Part of her novel The Worst Enemy takes place at Pigeon Ranch. 

The Worst Enemy is book 2 of Rebels Along the Rio Grande, a trilogy of middle grade historical novels set in New Mexico during the Civil War. It is scheduled to be published August 15, 2023. . 

The Cerro Grande Fire

Fourteen years after the Cerro Grande fire, devastation on the Quemazon Trail west of Los Alamos is still obvious. This image was obtained from http://www.gao.gov/new.items/rc00257t..., a document titled "T-RCED-00-257 Fire Management: Lessons Learned From the Cerro Grande Fire", Public Domain In May of 2000, a disastrous forest fire that came to be named The Cerro Grande Fire began in the hills above the town of Los Alamos, New Mexico. By the time it was contained, it had burned many homes, threatened national security, and destroyed the lives of many people.
 
The fire started as a controlled burn high on Cerro Grande, a 10,200-foot summit covered with a mix of ponderosa pine, douglas fir, white fir, and aspen trees. The summit, which sits on the rim of the Valles Caldera, has a rincon, or meadow on its southern slopes. The United States Forest Service chose that rincon as the starting place for a controlled burn that was part of a 10-year plan for reducing fire hazard within Bandelier National Monument. That rincon is the headwaters of Frijoles Creek, which flows southeast into the Rio Grande. It is close to New Mexico State Road 4, the main highway through Los Alamos County. 
The smoke from the fire made it all the way to Oklahoma. Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index... Spring may not be the best time to start controlled burns in the Jemez. High winds are common during this time of year. In addition to that, the forests were extremely dry but filled with undergrowth. In the early-to-mid-1990s, the Jemez had received abnormally high precipitation, leading to an explosion of luxuriant undergrowth. Then, several years of severe drought had dried out the forest. Deadfall, trees that had died and laid on the ground, had a moisture content lower than that of well-cured firewood. Conditions were ideal for a major forest fire. However, officials worried that if controlled burn were not used to clear the forest, a lightning strike or human carelessness could lead to disaster. Officials decided that a controlled burn was safer than letting nature take its course. The burn was scheduled to begin late in the evening of May 4, 2000. Just after the burn had begun, the winds picked up. By May 5th, the fire had burned through its controllines on the east side. The burn was declared a wildfire that afternoon. By May 7th, the fire’s behavior had become increasingly erratic, with spotting, the creation of new fires, due to flying embers, becoming common. Los Alamos National Laboratory shut down operations on May 8. Two days later, the town of Los Alamos was evacuated. That evening, 235 homes in Los Alamos were destroyed.
By the time the fire was declared officially contained, on June 6, over 400 families had lost their homes and over 43,000 acres had been burned. Los Alamos National Laboratory suffered from destruction or damage to its structures, but none of the  special nuclear material housed there was destroyed or damaged. Luckily, there was no loss of human life. The US General Accounting Office estimated total damages at $1 billion. The Cerro Grande fire was declared extinguished on July 20, 2000.

But even if the fire was no longer threatening Los Alamos, life could not go back to normal. Scientists determined that the soil beneath a layer of ash or burned soil had become hydrophobic, or water repellant. Los Alamos, the laboratory, and the lower parts of the burned area are all situated on the Pajarito Plateau, an area which has a lot of canyons that concentrate surface runoff.  When the monsoon rains which usually begin in July occurred, it was highly likely that the hydrophobic soil would result in serious flash flooding. Diamond Drive, one of the town's arterial roads, was damaged in such a flood.
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These floods also created serious erosion issues, especially along the 57 miles of trails that had become clogged with fallen trees and boulders washed down from higher elevations. A volunteer task force devoted many thousands of hours to rebuilding trails and planting trees. Local school children made many thousands of "seed balls" to broadcast in the burned areas, and about 7000 hydromulching and hydroseeding flights occurred during the month of July. Water quality had to be monitored for several years after the fire. 
A FEMAville in Greensburg, Kansas photo by Jackie Langholz In order to house people who had been burned out, the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) brought in portable buildings, or trailers. The trailers weren’t available until June because they not only had to be delivered, but hooked up to municipal utilities that had to be extended out to undeveloped land near the county rodeo grounds on North Mesa. Known locally as FEMAville, the complex housed hundreds of displaced residents. In 2006, when the trailers were removed, most of the displaced residents had been settled into new homes, although reconstruction of houses in the burned area continued for several years after that. Wildfires have grown increasingly common in the years since the Cerro Grande fire, and they continue to be a source of great controversy, especially when they begin through government action. 
Jennifer Bohnhoff is an author of books for middle grade through adult readers. She lives in the fire-prone mountains of central New Mexico. Her next book, Summer of the Bombers, is scheduled to come out on April 10th. The story of a girl who loses both her home and her horse because of a controlled burn gone rampant, it is based loosely on the Cerro Grande fire.

Books about the Great Depression for Middle Grade Readers

My mother in law was raised on a farm in southern Minnesota during the Great Depression. Although her family managed to keep the farm and keep food on the table, she had lots of stories about how they managed to do without much that we now consider essential. Her stories were filled with pride and determination. Many of the stories written for middle schoolers that are set in this period demonstrate the same triumph of the human spirit over adversity, and that makes them good reads and good lessons for today’s youth.  
​Wish Upon a Crawdad By Curtis Condon
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Twelve-year-old Ruby Mae Ryan is determined to make enough money by selling crawdads to the local restaurant and through other odd jobs to buy something very special that she’s kept a secret from everyone but her Daddy and her best friend, Virginia. Set in 1940 in rural Oregon, this story tells what it was like in a time before electric cooperatives brought power to the rural farm country.  ​Full of Beans by Jennifer L. Holm
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Bean lives in Key West, Florida with his mother and baby brother.  His dad is off somewhere, trying to find work. Two men come to Key West: a government agent trying to renovate Key West as part of the New Deal Plan, and a con man who hires Bean for a few assignments. Bean is torn between wanting the money for his family and knowing that he's involved in questionable work. Bean and his gang of barefooted boys know that the adults are lying about something, but what is it? No Promises in the Wind
by Irene Hunt

​This story from the Newbery Award-winning author of Across Five Aprils and Up a Road Slowly tells the story of Josh, a 15-year-old boy who takes his younger brother on a cross country trek to find a safe place, away from his father’s anger. A talented pianist, he is lucky to find many sympathetic and kind people to help. Even then, the boys come close to death as they struggle to find food and shelter.  ​Al Capone Does My Shirts by Gennifer Choldenko

​This book, a Newbery honoree, is the story of Moose, a 12-year-old whose father is a prison-guard on Alcatraz Island. Moose’s sister goes to a special school in San Francisco for help with her autism, and Moose finds it hard to live in the isolation of the island prison, even if it does lead to some very funny scenes.   Esperanza Rising
by Pam Muñoz Ryan
 
Another Newberry winter, this book tells the story of Esperanza, who leaves a privileged and comfortable life in Mexico to work with her mom in Southern California labor camps. The tragedy that forced them to leave wealth and ease at home for a new and harsh life as exploited farm workers during the Great Depression will open reader's eyes to a little-known bit of history.
A Long Way from Chicago
by Richard Peck​
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Siblings Joey and Mary Alice, leave Chicago every summer to spend time with their grandmother in rural Illinois. This book tells stories about their visits from 1929 to 1942. There’s eccentric grandmother makes sure that every trip is memorable, and you will sense the love and laugh a lot about their adventures.  The Truth About Sparrows by Marian Hale
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Even though the drought is making her family’s life impossible, twelve-year-old Sadie Wynn doesn’t want to abandon the only life she’s known and leave her friends in Missouri to move with her family to Texas. This story will help middle grade readers connect with the past, for while times and circumstances change, families and children remain essentially the same.  Moon Over Manifest
by Clare Vanderpool
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Abilene Tucker has lived an itinerant life. Twelve years old in 1936, her father finds a railroad job, and puts Abilene on a train to go live with relatives. But the curious, intrepid Abilene hops off the rails in Manifest, Kansas — her dad’s hometown — in an effort to find out more about his life. She meets a host of strangers and soon-to-be friends in this strange and downbeat town with a rich and interesting past. Nothing to Fear by Jackie French Koller

Thirteen-year-old Danny becomes the man of the house when his father leaves home in search of work. This story, set in New York City during the Depression, warms the heart as Danny strives to remain a regular kid while being forced into the very adult role of supporting his pregnant mother and younger sister. ​ Out of the Dust
by Karen Hesse
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Beautiful and evocative, this Newbery Medal-winning novel-in-verse tells the story of Billie Jo, a fourteen-year-old growing up in the dust bowls of Oklahoma. When terrible accident destroys her family and scars her hands, her one consolation, playing the piano, is taken from her and she must find a way to continue on without it.
Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred D. Taylor
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Part of her Logan family series, this Newbery winning novel tells the story of nine-year-old Cassie Logan, the daughter of an African-American farmer in 1930s Mississippi.  The novel explores Jim Crow segregation, Black ownership of land vs. sharecropping, and lynching, and is a painful reminder of the tenuousness of black/white relations. 
Did I miss your favorite middle grade novel about the Great Depression? Let me know and I'll add it to my list! A former middle school teacher, Jennifer Bohnhoff has written several historical novels for middle grade readers. She is currently working on a novel set on Isle Royale, an island in Lake Superior, during the Great Depression. 

Ms. Bohnhoff will be giving away a copy of Where the Crawdads Sing to one subscriber to her email list. If you are not a member and would like to join, click here. Winner will be announced in her elert on January 11th.

The titles of the books in this article contain links to Bookshop.org, an online bookseller that gives 75% of its profits to independent bookstores, authors, and reviewers. As an affiliate, Mrs. Bohnhoff receives a commission when people buy books by clicking through links on her blog or browsing her shop at https://bookshop.org/shop/jenniferbohnhoff.  A matching commission goes to Treasure House Books, an independent bookseller in Albuquerque's Old Town.

Please do not see Mr. Bohnhoff's affiliation with Bookshop.org as a discouragement to shop directly at your local independent bookseller or to borrow from your local library. 

Christmas Nuts in Bastogne

Nuts, Bastogne, and Christmas. Say these three words, and most World War II trivia fans will connect them to Brigadier General Anthony McAuliffe and the Battle of the Bulge. But truth can be stranger than fiction, and the connection goes much farther back than most people know.

Since the 18th century, the Belgian city of Bastogne has had a Nuts Fair during December. Farmhands, cowherds and shepherds in the region used to be employed by landowners for one-year periods that ended eight days before Christmas. Hoping to get contracts for the coming year, these workers came to Bastogne to attend the last market of the year.  If they were hired or rehired, they’d buy sugary breads and nuts to celebrate the fact that their livelihood was ensured for another year. Lieutenant Hellmuth Henke Nuts and Bastogne became even more connected because of a comment made by an American commander during the Battle of the Bulge, which began on December 16, 1944. The massive counterattack in the heavily wooded, snowed-covered Ardennes was Nazi Germany’s last attempt to dislodge the advancing Allied forces. The Belgian town of Bastogne became the center of intense fighting because the seven highways that coursed through it made it strategically important. By December 21, the city was surrounded by German forces.

On the morning of December 22nd, four German soldiers waving a white flag approached the lines to the south of town. The two officers,  Major Wagner of the 47th Panzer Corps and Lieutenant Hellmuth Henke of the elite Panzer Lehr Division, wore long overcoats and shiny boots.  Henke carried a briefcase under his arm, and declared in English that he had a written message for the American commander in Bastogne were carrying blindfolds that they were willing to put on in order to be brought into headquarters. The two enlisted German soldiers who’d accompanied Wagner and Henke were left behind with American soldiers, while Wagner and Henke were brought forward. Since the 101st “Screaming Eagles” Airborne Division was defending the town of Bastogne, Wagner and Henke’s message should have gone to their commander, Major General Maxwell D. Taylor. However, Taylor was at a staff conference in the United States when the Battle of the Bulge began, and Brigadier General Anthony McAuliffe, normally only in charge of the division’s artillery, had taken his place. McAuliffe was sleeping in his quarters right next to the headquarters when a Lieutenant Colonel woke him.

“The Germans have sent some people forward to take our surrender” said, Lieutenant Colonel Ned Moore.

McAuliffe muttered “Aw, nuts!” 
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The written message that Henke handed over consisted of two typewritten sheets, one in German, the other an English translation. The diacritical marks above certain German vowels were missing and written in by hand, showing that the Germans had used an English typewriter. It read:

"December 22nd 1944
To the U.S.A. Commander of the encircled town of Bastogne.
The fortune of war is changing. This time the U.S.A. forces in and near Bastogne have been encircled by strong German armored units. More German armored units have crossed the river Ourthe near Ortheuville, have taken Marche and reached St. Hubert by passing through Hompre-Sibret-Tillet.
Libramont is in German hands.
There is only one possibility to save the encircled
U.S.A troops from total annihilation: that is the honorable
surrender of the encircled town. In order to think it over
a term of two hours will be granted beginning with the
presentation of this note.
If this proposal should be rejected one German Artillery Corps and six heavy A. A. Battalions are ready
to annihilate the U.S.A. troops in and near Bastogne. The order for firing will be given immediately after this two hours' term.
All the serious civilian losses caused by this artillery fire would not correspond with the wellknown American humanity.
The German Commander."

“They want to surrender?” McAuliffe, who was still groggy from sleep, asked.  When he was told that the Germans were demanding that the Americans surrender, McAuliffe threw the paper on the floor and said "Us surrender, aw nuts!" Wagner and Henke, who were still waiting in blindfolds nearby, demanded a formal written response to their message. The one they received said: ​

"December 22, 1944
To the German Commander,
N U T S !
The American Commander"

At first, the Germans did not understand what the message meant. When they finally did understand, they stormed off.

“Nuts!” became the rallying cry for the beleaguered defenders. It raised their morale and gave them hope. Luckily for Bastogne, the German Corps Commander General Heinrich von Lüttwitz decided to circumnavigate Bastogne, and concentrate his forces on Bayerlein.  

For his actions, McAuliffe received the Distinguished Service Cross from General George S. Patton. Today, there is a statue of him in the town square, and every year a nut-throwing ceremony celebrates the city’s rescue.  Patton decorating McAuliffe with the Distinguished Service Cross (Photo: U.S. Army) Jennifer Bohnhoff is an author of historical fiction and a former history teacher. Her novel Code: Elephants on the Moon is the story of a young French girl who discovers that nothing in her little town in Normandy is what she'd believed it to be. As D-Day approaches, she must make some decisions that could mean life or death for many.  This YA novel is suitable for older children and adults. 

Away in the Manger with Cowboys and Soldiers

Years ago, I bought a manger scene at an after Christmas sale. It was one of the best purchases I ever made.  The figures in my nativity set are made out of a rubbery plastic, which means that my three sons, and now my grandchildren have been able to play with them over the years. This has given me the chance to tell and retell the Christmas story to them. They know the story of the three kings, and he herald angel (not Harold the Angel, as one used to think.) and of the shepherds watching their flocks by night. But over the years, our little scene has attracted a few extra players. Many depictions of Christ's birth have an angel or two who watches over the newborn. Having three sons, one who was interested in the military, my nativity scene had a more earthly guard. For years, a little green army man sniper lay face down on the roof, watching the distance for approaching danger. Sometime in the past decade, he went off duty and was replaced first by one green army man, who seemed to be signaling everyone to come and see the Christ child, then by a second khaki colored one.  Sometime after I moved from the city, another character joined the scene. For the past five years or so, we've had a cowboy to watch after the cow and donkey in the manger. He is a good natured chap, with a smile always on his face. I think he does a good job of mucking out the stalls, for I've never smelled anything coming from them. Now that I have granddaughters, Jesus sometimes finds that his humble manger has been transported to the tropics and is surrounded by flowers. You'll note that the sheep were banished to the back forty so they wouldn't eat the greenery. How about your house? Do you have a nativity scene that comes out this time of year? I'd love to see it! Jennifer Bohnhoff is the author of several novels for adults and children. You can read more about her and her books at her website.

Crossing the Alps: Reality vs. Propaganda

When Napoleon Bonaparte crossed the Alps to push the Austrians out of Italy in the spring of 1800, he was determined that the world know that this crossing put him on a footing with the world’s most renowned generals. Hannibal Barca, the great Carthaginian general, had crossed in 218 BC to attack the Romans. Charlemagne, the great Frankish king who became the first Holy Roman Emperor, did so in 772 AD. Now that Napoleon was to add this accomplishment to his list, he commissioned his favorite painted, Jacques-Louis David, to commemorate the event. David did so in his five versions of Napoleon Crossing the Alps, paintings that remains instantly recognizable the world over.  But what Napoleon wanted and what David provided, was not in any way historically accurate. Instead, it is propaganda, more representative of Napoleon’s character and goals. David didn't paint what Napoleon looked like as he cross the Alps. He painted what Napoleon wanted everyone to think he looked like: a man who could control France and the world as easily as he could control -- with just one hand. -- a rearing horse.
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In the original version, which is hung at Malmaison, a very young-looking Bonaparte wears an orange cloak and rides a black and white piebald horse. The Charlottenburg shows Napoleon with a slight smile, wearing a red cloak and mounted on a chestnut horse. There are two versions hung at Versailles, the first shows a stern-looking Napoleon riding a dappled grey horse, while the second shows an older Napoleon, with shorter hair wearing an orangy-red cloak and mounted on a black and white horse. A final version, from the Belvedere, is almost identical to the first Versailles version. In all versions, the horse is rearing and Napoleon is pointing, guiding his men over difficult pass. Behind the horse and rider, there is a small view of soldiers struggling to get their cannons over the pass. The sky is stormy and dark.  What Napoleon wanted and what David provided, was not in any way historically accurate. Instead, it is propaganda, more representative of Napoleon’s character and goals. Not even the face in David’s portraits was drawn from life because the fidgety and impatient Bonaparte had refused to sit still for the painter.

In one account, David asks Napoleon to pose and he answers “Sit? For what good? Do you think that the great men of Antiquity for whom we have images sat?”

“But Citizen First Consul,” David responded, “I am painting you for your century, for the men who have seen you, who know you, they will want to find a resemblance.”

“A resemblance? It isn't the exactness of the features, a wart on the nose which gives the resemblance. It is the character that dictates what must be painted...Nobody knows if the portraits of the great men resemble them, it is enough that their genius lives there.”

​After failing to persuade Napoleon to sit still, David copied the features of a bust of the First Consul. To get the posture correctly, David had his son perch on top a ladder. 
Look in the lower right hand corner, where men are pulling a cannon barrel. But it is not just Napoleon’s face that is inaccurate. The trail over the Grand Saint Bernard Pass is so narrow, steep, and rocky that wheeled conveyances, including cannons, could not negotiate it. The army took apart the cannon and their carriage in Bourg-Saint-Pierre, the highest village up the northern side of the pass. Tree trunks were hollowed out, the cannon barrels placed inside them, then slings were made so that 100 men could carry each cannon barrel. Other men carried the disassembled carriages, and other men carried the wheels.
Records indicate that Napoleon did not lead his men over the pass. Instead, General Maréscot led the army while Bonaparte followed after them by several days.  By the time he crossed, the sky was sunny and the weather calm, although it remained cold and the ground covered with snow. ​
Finally, Napoleon Bonaparte was not riding any of the horses depicted in the various versions of David’s paintings. Because of the treacherous conditions, he was riding a much mor surefooted mule, and the mule was being led by an alpine guide named Pierre-Nicolas Dorsaz.
Dorsaz later related that the mule slipped during the ascent into the mountains. Napoleon would have fallen over a precipice had Dorsaz not been walking between the mule and the edge of the track. Although Napoleon showed no emotion at the time, he began questioning his guide about his life in the village of Bourg-Saint-Pierre. Dorsaz told Napoleon that his dream was to have a small farm, a field and cow. When the First Consul asked about the normal fee for alpine guides, Dorsaz told him that guides were usually paid three francs. Napoleon then ordered that Dorsaz be paid 60 Louis, or 1200 francs for his "zeal and devotion to his task" during the crossing of the Alps. Local legend says that Dorsaz used the money to buy his farm and marry Eléonore Genoud, the girl he loved. In 1848 Arthur George, the 3rd Earl of Onslow, was visiting the Louvre with Paul Delaroche, the painter who had painted Charlemagne Crossing the Alps.  George commissioned Delaroche to produce a more accurate version of Napoleon crossing the Alps, which was completed in 1850. While much more historically accurate, this depiction is nowhere as heroic or romantic.  Jennifer Bohnhoff is currently working on a novel set in the Great Saint Bernard Pass in the years 1799 and 1800. Napoleon has a tiny cameo appearance in her story, but Dorsaz the mountain guide shows up in three different scenes. For more information about her and her other books, see her website.

Crossing the Alps: Napoleon and his Predecessors

The Alps are intimidating mountains. Steep and rocky, they are such a difficult place through which to transport the heavy equipment of war, and such a dangerous place for armies, that they’ve been considered nigh well impenetrable. Few generals have tried to maneuver their troops through the Alps. Those who have done so are famous for it.

Hannibal Barca, the great Carthaginian general, did it in 218 BC. He managed to not only bring his soldiers through, but what at the time was the ultimate war weapon: elephants. Credited as saying “We will find a way, and if there is no way, we will make a way,” Hannibal left behind a bronze stele that stated he brought 20,000 infantry, 6,000 cavalry, and 37 elephants over the Alps when he arrived in Italy during the Second Punic War. Although pro-Roman writers including Polybius and Livy claimed that Hannibal lost half of his men while coming through Great Saint Bernard Pass, modern historians think otherwise. They suggest that a little as 500 men succumbed to the cold, the hazards of avalanches, and from attacks by local tribes. They also believe that the general passed through the Lesser Saint Bernard Pass, which is further to the west Charlemagne, the great Frankish king who united Europe, also crossed the Alps. In 772 AD, Pope Adrian I begged Charlemagne to chase the Lombards out of Papal towns in Northern Italy. Charlemagne crossed through the Alps using the Great Saint Bernard Pass. Although he brought nothing so big as an elephant, he did have an army of between 10,000 and 40,000 troops. The chroniclers of the time hailed Charlemagne as the new Hannibal.  He besieged the Lombards in Pavia, eventually destroying their control of Italy and giving power back to the papacy. This earned him the title of King of the Lombards.
Charlemagne Crossing the Alps to Defeat the Lombards, by Paul Delaroche Napoleon Bonaparte crossed the Alps in 1800. He had just returned from his military campaign in Egypt when he found that the Austrians had retaken Italy. He decided to launch a surprise assault on the Austrian army and chose the shortest route, which went through Great Saint Bernard Pass, so that his army of over forty thousand men, his heavy field artillery, and his baggage trains could reach Italy before his enemy knew they were coming.

Since the pass was too steep and rocky for wheeled vehicles, the artillery was dismantled at Bourg St. Pierre, the last settlement on the Swiss side of the pass.  Chests, specially made in the nearby villages of Villeneuve and Orsires were packed with the ammunition and iron fittings and loaded on to mules. Teams of soldiers carried the disassembled caissons and the gun barrels. The Army began their passage on May 15. The passage took five days to reach the hospice at the top of the pass, where the prior, father Berenfaller, offered Napoleon a meal in the great reception hall while the monks distributed food to his troops.
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On the other side of the St. Bernard Pass, the artillery was reassembled in the village of Etroubles then moved with the Army into the Aosta valley, where they had to lay siege to Fort de Bard, losing the element of surprise. Eventually, the French beat the Austrians at Marengo on June 14.
Napoleon was determined that people made the connection between himself, Hannibal and Charlemagne. The painting that Jacques-Louis David, Napoleon’s favorite painter, created to commemorate the event features the names of Napoleon’s two famous predecessors carved into the rocks beneath Napoleon’s horse’s hooves. David wanted to make it clear that Napoleon was not just following in the footsteps of his predecessors, but joining them on the list of generals who had conquered the Alpine crossing. The painting, which remains so popular and recognizable today that it is an important icon in popular culture, was reproduced several times, with variations in color and detail, but all of the versions show the French general astride a rearing horse, with the artillery struggling uphill in the background. And while the image is a noble one, it is not at all historically accurate, an explanation of which must wait for another blog post. 
Jennifer Bohnhoff is a writer who lives high in the mountains of central New Mexico. This summer she hiked around Mont Blanc, crossing the French, Swiss, and Italian borders, and rode a bus through Saint Bernard Pass. The scenery inspired her, and she's now writing a first draft of an historical novel for middle grade readers set in the year that Napoleon crossed the Alps. You can read more about her and her books on her website.. 

The Great and Little Passes of Saint Bernard

There are two passes in the southern Alps which bear the name Saint. Bernard, and they are often confused with each other.
 
The Great Saint Bernard Pass is the lowest pass lying on the ridge between the two highest mountains of the Alps, Mont Blanc and Monte Rosa. At 8,100 ft high, it connects Martigny in the Swiss canton of Valais, with Aosta, Italy. The Little Saint Bernard Pass, 7,178 ft high, straddles the French–Italian border and connects Savoie, France to the Aosta Valley.  Both passes have been used since prehistoric times. At the summit, the road through Little St Bernard Pass bisects a stone circle that might have been a ceremonial site for the Tarentaisians, a Celtic tribe, during the period from c. 725 BC to 450 BC. The road has taken the place of a standing stone that stood in its center. While there are indications that the Great St Bernard Pass has been used since at least the bronze age, the first historical reference to it refers to its use by Boii and Lingones, Celtic tribes who crossed it during their invasion of Italy in 390 BC.  
The stone ring at the top of Little Saint Bernard Pass. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons Publisher New York Ward, Lock, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons Writers in the 1st century BC called the Great St Bernard Pass the Punic Pass. It may be that they misinterpreted the Celtic word pen, meaning head or summit, and wrongly believed that it was the pass that the Carthaginian general Hannibal used while crossing with his elephants into Italy in 218 BC.

While no one is sure of the exact route that Hannibal used, based on the limited descriptions written by classical authors, many a full century after the event,  most historians now believe that Hannibal used the Little Saint Bernard Pass. Wanting to find a shorter route between Italy and Gaul than the commonly used coastal route, Julius Caesar tried to secure the Great Saint Bernard Pass, but it remained insecurely held until Augustus’s time when Aosta was founded on the southern edge of the pass. By 43 AD, when the emperor Claudius reigned, both the Great and Little Passes had Roman roads and mansios, rest places maintained by the central government for the use of those traveling on official business. Both also had a  temple to Jupiter at their summit.

​At the Great St. Bernard Pass, a cross inscribed with Deo optimo maximo, to the best and greatest god was placed where the temple had been. The bronze statue of St Bernard stands where the mansio was. Coins dating back to the reign of Theodosius II, in the 1st half of the 5th century are now on display in the museum of the nearby hospice, while some of the buildings in the village of Bourg-Saint-Pierre 7 1/2 miles north, on the Swiss side of the pass, contain fragments of the marble temple.
After the fall of the Roman Empire, the mountain passes became haunts of brigands and outlaws who preyed on travelers. The first hospice, built to provide travelers a safe place to stop, was built in Bourg-Saint-Pierre during the 9th century and is first mentioned in a manuscript dated between 812 and 820 AD. Saracens destroyed this building when they invaded the area in the mid-10th century. It was refounded at the highest point on the Great St Bernard Pass in 1049, by Bernard of Menthon, the archdeacon of Aosta. Today, the hospice straddles both sides of the modern road and the old Roman road, which continues to see service as hiking path, goes around its northern edge, just uphill from the modern road.. Soumei Baba, CC BY 2.0 , via Wikimedia Commons This past summer, my husband, two friends, and I walked most of the way around Mont Blanc. Because we had some difficulty finding room in the hiking huts, we took a detour, traveling by bus through the Great Saint Bernard Pass. The Swiss bus took us up to the hospice, but would go no farther. We got off, then, unsure of when or even if a bus would be coming to the Italian side, we scurried past the hospice and its lake, and over the border into Italy. Fortunately, we learn that an Italian bus was coming soon and we would not be stranded at the top of the pass. Unfortunately, that mean we did not get to tour the hospice or the museum. However, the short time I spent there was inspiration enough to get a story started in my head. I am working on that story now.  Jennifer Bohnhoff is the author of several contemporary and historical novels for middle grade and adult readers. You can learn more about her books on her website.

Bedbugs!

This summer my husband and I joined another couple on a grand adventure: the four of us walked around Mont Blanc, the largest mountain in the Alps. Mont Blanc straddles the borders of France, Switzerland and Italy, so I had a lot to think about as I walked. It was an interesting and exciting, and it inspired me to begin thinking of how I could turn what I saw and experienced, both the good and the bad, into a book.

I won’t sugarcoat it: I did experience both good and bad. The scenery was beautiful, the food fantastic, the people friendly and kind. But there was also some parts of the trip that I wouldn’t want to repeat. The bedbugs fall into the later category.

We stayed in a wide variety of lodgings during our trip. One night, we stayed in a hostel that looked like it had been used as a barn before being converted into a place for hikers. The inside was furnished with rows of bunkbeds. The bathroom area, which had many narrow rooms with outfitted with toilets and others with showerheads, also had a long, trough-like sink. Our own beds were up in what had been the hayloft. It looked nice enough. But then we turned out the lights and went to sleep.  No sooner than it grew dark than I felt something strange. The feeling, a tingling, began on my hands. I began to itch. Soon the feeling way everywhere: my back, my legs, my face, my neck.

But no one else in my party seemed affected. They slept soundly while I thrashed and scratched. I believed that I was the only one affected. Sometime during the night, I got out of my bed and moved to another one, believing that I could leave my tormenters behind.

When morning came, I discovered that I was not the only victim of the bedbugs. My skin reacted the most strongly: I had itchy welts for several weeks afterwards. That shouldn’t have been a surprise, since I react very strongly to mosquito bites too, but everyone had been bitten. I felt awful that I hadn't roused everyone in the middle of the night.

We walked down to the nearest town and found a laundromat, where we boiled, drowned our clothes (and, we hoped, the bugs) in the washer, and baked them in the dryer. We turned our sleeping bags, our jackets and our backpacks inside out searching for the devious little bugs. We must have been successful in eliminating them, for they tormented us no more. But the welts, and the emotional trauma of the attack, stayed with us. 
Bedbugs have been around since the time of the dinosaurs, so it’s likely that they have been bothering people for as long as there have been people to bug. There are mentions of them in ancient Greek manuscripts dating from 400 BC. Aristotle wrote about bedbugs, and they are mentioned in Pliny's Natural History, first published in Rome around AD 77. They are aggravating, but fortunately are not a vector for any serious diseases.  People have been trying to find ways to eliminate bedbugs, or at least alleviate the itching, for as long as they’ve been plagued by the little critters. One old folk remedy that housewives in Eastern Europe have been using for generations used the leaves from bean plants. These leaves were spread on the floor. In the morning, they were covered with bedbugs and were taken out and burned. It wasn’t until recently that scientists were able to determine that bean leaves have microscopic hooks that impale the insects, capturing them. You can bet I’m using bean leaf bed bug traps in my book about the Alps!  I went into a French pharmacy looking for relief from the itching. I discovered that the French are not fans of cortisone creams. Instead, I got a tube filled with herbal oil that was dispensed through a top that had a metal roll-on ball. The oil smelled like eucalyptus or Vics Formula 44. It did little to stop the itching, but it gave me something to do. 
People in the Alps have been using various herbal remedies for their ailments for a long time. A website dedicated to Alpine plants with medicinal uses stated that a bruised leaf from a plantain weed presents the itching caused by insect bites and nettles. I wish I had known this while I was still up on the trail. It certainly would have worked as well as the little roll-on bottle did.

Am I glad I experienced bedbugs during my trip to the Alps? Absolutely not! But I can use the experience to make my writing more interesting and more informed. Writers have a great reason to appreciate even the worst of experiences.
Jennifer Bohnhoff is the author of several works of historical fiction written for middle grade through adult readers. She is participating in National Novel Writing Month by working on a first draft of a novel set in the Alps in 1799-1800. The first chapter begins with bedbugs!