Island of the Blue Foxes:
Disaster and Triumph on the World’s Greatest Scientific Expedition. By
Stephen R. Bown. Da Capo. $28.
First Founding Father: Richard
Henry Lee and the Call to Independence. By Harlow Giles Unger. Da Capo. $28.
There will never be a
shortage of untold, or at least under-told, stories of historical events, so
history buffs will always have plenty of opportunities to immerse themselves in
tales of triumph and failure, heartbreak and drama, assembled by writers with a
knack for delving into primary sources and turning complex and confusing
narratives into comparatively straightforward tales whose plots move with
novelistic surety. Stephen R. Bown and Harlow Giles Unger are adept at this
sort of historical exegesis, and readers whose interests lie in these
comparatively rarefied environs will not be disappointed with the latest Bown
and Unger books. Bown’s innocuously titled story of a very extended, horrific
exploratory trip that was ultimately successful in many ways and tragic in many
more revolves around the last and greatest voyage of Vitus Bering (1681-1741),
for whom the Bering Sea and Bering Strait are named. Bering, who was Danish,
came to Czarist Russia when Peter the Great significantly expanded the Russian
Navy and made clear his ambition to show that Russia was on a par for
exploratory prowess with the greatest maritime nations of Europe. Czar Peter’s
determination led to a decade-long, three-continent voyage known as the Great
Northern Expedition, with Bering as Captain-Commander until his death in the
midst of the journey. Starting in 1733, Bering led a task force – one that
ended up including nearly 3,000 scientists, explorers, soldiers, interpreters,
surveyors and others – from the Imperial capital of St. Petersburg across 6,000
miles of mostly forbidding Russian terrain. It was a three-year trek so
harrowing, so filled with fighting and suffering, that it is hard to believe
there could be worse to come. After reaching the Pacific Ocean, the expedition
– bolstered by laborers and others commandeered from Siberia during its lengthy
travels – built two ships that would sail into the Pacific Ocean. One of these,
the St. Paul, sailed south under the command of Aleksey Chirikov (1703-1748) and
eventually made Russia’s first contact with Japan. Bering commanded the other
ship, the St. Peter, which sailed through what is now the Bering Strait –
proving that Russia is not connected with America – and reached Alaska. But there
was scarcely unalloyed triumph. The vessel was shipwrecked on an isolated Aleutian
island, where Bering and many crew members died before the survivors were able,
remarkably, to build another, smaller ship from the wreck of the first and
eventually return to Russia with a tremendous amount of scientific information.
The trials and turmoil of the expedition come through vividly in Island of the Blue Foxes, and Bown has
done his usual meticulous research using diaries and letters as well as
official reports and other secondary sources. The findings of the Great
Northern Expedition really were remarkable – for example, one scientist, Georg
Steller, provided the first-ever descriptions of animals that now bear his
name, including Steller’s sea lion, Steller’s sea cow, and Steller’s jay. In
terms of accomplishments, the expedition must be labeled a success – but Bown
effectively balances that evaluation with strong, often gruesome scenes of what
the explorers endured, notably on the island of the book’s title. This is where
Bering’s ship was wrecked, and anyone who thinks that animals that have never
encountered humans will be well-disposed toward us will be brought up short at
what happened on that island: the feral foxes were extremely vicious, to the
point of attacking and eating still-living but desperately ill men with
aggressiveness that was not hampered by human counterattacks. It is not the
scientific findings but the daily depredations of the shipwrecked crew that
will likely stay most strongly with readers of Bown’s book – readers who,
before picking up Island of the Blue
Foxes, may have known little about Alaska beyond the fact that Russia sold
it to the United States in 1867.
Those who look into Unger’s
biography of Richard Henry Lee will likely know only, or primarily, of one of
Lee's relatives – either “Light-Horse Harry” Lee of the Revolutionary War or
Robert E. Lee of the Civil War. And readers who know Unger’s other works may be
taken aback by the title of this one, since Unger has already written The Last Founding Father (about James
Monroe). What Unger wants to do in The
First Founding Father is to rescue this
Lee (1732-1794) from comparative obscurity. Unger pointedly says that Richard
Henry Lee was the first Founding Father to call for independence, the first to
call for union, and the first to call for a bill of rights – echoing, surely on
purpose, “Light-Horse Harry” Lee’s eulogy in which he described George
Washington as “first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his
countrymen.” Richard Henry Lee was friendly with Washington, as well as with
Jefferson and Madison and other Founding Fathers, although the friendships
became strained in time and did not always lead to unanimity of purpose: Lee,
for example, thought the Constitution an invitation to federal overreach on
taxes and the raising of armies, which is one reason he became instrumental in
adding the Bill of Rights to it. Lee certainly had political bona fides, serving in the Continental
Congress and as a U.S. Senator. But Unger is more interested in the ways in
which Lee helped foment and further the American Revolution – for example, by directly
threatening King George III with rebellion unless the notorious Stamp Act were
not annulled. Lee also helped Samuel Adams put together a spy network (which
included Lee’s two youngest brothers) to watch British troop movements and
provide intelligence from England; and at the First Continental Congress, Lee
pushed for a total embargo on British goods. Lee was a noncombatant during the
war itself, so the battles become background in The First Founding Father as Unger shows what Lee was doing, when and
why, while the fighting dragged on. For example, he parallels Washington’s
difficult maintenance of the fighters at Valley Forge in 1778 with Lee’s
holding together of the Continental Congress in York, Pennsylvania, at the same
time, after the British took the national capital of Philadelphia in September
1777. Significantly, it was Lee’s motion for independence that Congress
approved on July 2, 1776, the day than Benjamin Franklin thought would be
celebrated as Independence Day (a title that, however, was bestowed on July 4,
the day when the motion was widely proclaimed). Unger does his usual creditable
job of showing the importance of his biographical subject, and offers some
interesting historical sidelights along the way, such as the fact that most Americans
wanted a form of local self-determination and self-rule within Britain, not
full independence from the mother country. Lee is ultimately not as interesting
a human being as other Founding Fathers of whom Unger has written, but his
contributions to the early history of the United States were many and profound,
and they deserve to be far more widely known than they are – a situation to
whose redress this intelligently written book is dedicated.
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