. Why is there a DC high school named for Benjamin Banneker? If you read this book, you will find out that this local-boy-made-good was a free African-American tobacco farmer who was born and lived his entire life just outside of what is now known as Ellicott City, MD. He had an early interest in mathematics, science, and astronomy, and with a pocket knife and some other tools built one of the first clocks ever made in the 13 American colonies, out of wood. For this he became locally famous, and made friends with some of the younger members of the Ellicott family, who were Quakers, anti-slavery advocates, and owners of some mills in what was then known as Ellicott's Mills. They lent him some mathematics and astronomy texts, and eventually gave him a telescope. He taught himself a considerable amount of mathematical and observational astronomy, and eventually began, around the age of 60, to publish an almanac detailing the locations of the planets and the Moon for the coming year, as well as predicting eclipses and sunrises and sunsets - all based on laborious and lengthy calculations and diagrams that he made himself.

Eventually, he was tapped for an even greater role - he was hired to help Major Andrew Ellicott in the astronomical and chronometric portion of the most important surveying job of his day - laying out the 10 mile by 10 mile square that eventually became the District of Columbia.

This very well-researched book also helps lay to rest some of the myths about what Banneker did and did not do during his most unusual lifetime; unfortunately, many websites and books continue to propagate these myths, probably because those authors do not understand what Banneker actually accomplished. Many state, for example, that Banneker's clock was an exact copy of one he saw, which is not true -- he figured out the mathematics and physics on his own for a clock made out of wood, instead of trying simply to copy the small pocket watch that he was lent to observe. However remarkable this clock was, it was not the first clock made in America. Other sources continually repeat the myth that when Pierre l'Enfant was fired from the job of laying out the new Federal City, Benjamin Banneker recreated l'Enfant's plans from memory. Bedini lays this myth to rest and shows us that what Banneker actually did in terms of astronomical work was actually much more difficult -- in fact, it was in the league of the work done by Mechain and Delambre to measure the length of the meridian that passes through Dunkirk, Paris and Barcelona, with the purpose of defining the meter for all time. But that's another story -- but if you want to read about it, check out Ken Alder's The Measure of All Things: The Seven-Year Odyssey and Hidden Error that Transformed The World.

If you read this book, you will also see some facsimiles of his widely-known almanac, some of his correspondence with Thomas Jefferson where he vainly attempts to convince the future president that African Americans are just as smart as European Americans, photographs of some of the equipment that he used, and so on. Unfortunately, Banneker's house, and all of its contents (including the wooden clock and many of his astronomical workbooks) burned to the ground on the day of his funeral.

A great read for my six and eight-year old grandsons and me. This biography briefly but clearly covered several areas of history: colonialism, slavery, scientific works of more than 200 years ago. It told of Banneker's many accomplishments,focusing mainly on his producing the first known almanac by an African-American and his correspondence with Thomas Jefferson over the unfairness of slavery in America. We learned what an almanac is and how important it was in colonial days. The book mentions how Banneker's grandmother, Molly, taught him to read and this led my grandsons and I to another biography, "Molly Bannaky", the story of Banneker's grandmother, written by Alice McGill. We had fun researching Banneker's family tree in this way. What I especially liked about the book was the quiet message I hope my grandsons grasped, that if you keep trying hard enough, you can accomplish many goals in your life and have a richer life for it.

Silvio A. Bedini has written Thomas Jefferson: Statesman of Science with an eye on the scientific Jefferson from his early days to his demise. Jefferson had a scientific preoccupation throughout his entire life, always looking at the things around him.

We have read books on Jefferson's multifarious life, as a lawyer, politician, diplomat, architect of Monticello and the University of Virginia, but Jefferson's talents went much further... as Jefferson would say, "Science is my passion, politics my duty." Jefferson looked at nature with a keen eye. As he sent Lewis and Clark to explore the newly purchased western territory, they sent back enough curiosities to keep Jefferson's mind occupied.

Jefferson's mind was so absorbed in sciences that he published his work "Notes on the State of Virginia" one of the most important works on science of the eighteenth century, later it helped earn him the title of "Father of American palentology."

From fossils to plants, ingenious devices, cartography, mathematical instrumentation, and many other ideas all sparked Jefferson's fertile mind... the author takes us on road of exploration into Jefferson's inventive, curious, and brilliant scientific achievements, all in a narative to pique our interest. Jefferson was on the vanguard of achievements not only here in the United States but abroad as well thus fueling his preoccupation with the sciences.

This book carries us through Jefferson's life as his inventive mind produced many utilitarion devices or improved others that already existed. Cryptography, the science of weather, medicine and farming all captivated Jefferson as we read on in the book.

I highly recommend reading this fascinating book.

The Pope's Elephant by Silvio A. Bedini is a fun book although it does not quite deliver the promise of the subtitle on the cover. It is not really about the journey of an elephant from deep in India to the heart of Rome. It is really about the strange workings of Rome and the Papacy in the early 1500's and their dealings with other nations, such as Portugal from which the ill-fated elephant, Hanno, arrives. The author uses a great variety of sources for this journey, particulary interesting being the use made of contemporary artists to provide proof of events. This book could have used the Pope's elephant for a much wider glimpse of the world at this point in time, but the more narrow version presented here is fascinating and illuminating in its own right. An interesting footnote into history (and, truly, how many interesting footnotes does one run across).

"Rome produces its monkeys and wild goats And every type of wild beast, more even than India and Africa. And now that Leo has become their king, All the animals, even the very elephant, Must hold him in honour."

A verse of Pasquino heralds the arrival of the great elephant Hanno to Rome, where it is presented to Pope Leo X. And so begins Silvio Bedini's delightful story of the pope's elephant. Bedini, whose work has covered a range of topics in the past, began exploring the rumors of a Vatican rhinoceros and elephant, only to find them not only true, but part of a fantastic story of imperial representations of power, patronage, gift-giving, and ceremony.

Brought to Leo X 1514, Hanno the elephant was a symbol of Portuguese power and dominance in the far east, and particularly from India, where the elephant's journey began. Bedini details the long voyage from Lisbon to Porto Ecole, during which the elephant was anchored between the two masts of the boat. From there, the travel to Rome via dirt roads is complicated both by wear on the elephant's tender feet and the throngs of people who crowd the entourage, trying to get a look at the most spectacular gift. In Rome, the elephant is finally, and formally, handed over to the pope, and Bedini shows his remarkable descriptive skill in sketching out every aspect of the ceremony. Those interested in the rituals of such religious, nationalistic and political events (all bundled into one) will be satisfied with Bedini's work here. Once in Rome and rested, Hanno becomes a living symbol of the period, captured by poets, playwrights, and artists. Oddly, the elephant shared a small amount of fame with a rhinoceros, another gift from the Portuguese. The fate of this beast, however, is less well known, and while it appears in several commissioned paintings from the period, its fate remains unclear.

The book closes with the death of Leo X, and the changes which ensued, both religiously and culturally, after his passing. Bedini thoughtfully examines the influence of this pope and his large beast on the belles lettres of the period. Beautiful plates show the extent to which the elephant--as a symbol of the Church's strength, of the Pope's magnificence, and of the animal's own divine purpose--captivated people, and the reader is given a new perspective on the 16th century, simply by focusing on an elephant.

If you've even a passing interest in historiography - supplementing the historical record with artifacts and peripherally supporting documentary evidence to glean a substantial picture of the world represented by written history - you will find this book a treasure.

At times shocking, at others moving, often repellant and even more frequently laugh-out-loud audacious, it is always illuminating.

This is high scholarship, but only very rarely is it dry. Good for the gothic audience: never again will you dream of living in romantic 16th C Europe, not after the smells and sounds and horrific displays of human behavior brought to life by Bedini and the story of the elephant/s.

The title refers not to maces and gavels in general, but to a particular mace and a particular gavel: the mace used by the United States House of Representatives, and the gavel used by the United States Senate's presiding officer. The "gavel" is not the kind that comes to mind nowadays when one thinks of a gavel, like an auctioneer or a judge would use; instead it is an ivory pestle, with no handle.

The mace was a symbol of the House of Commons, and this book's first chapter traces the mace's historical development from a weapon of battle, to the Roman fasces, to a proxy for the monarch in the Commons, through its adoption in the British American colonies as a symbol of legislative authority and, ultimately, as a symbol of the House of Representatives. The book tells the story both of the mace itself (actually the House is now using its third mace) and of its actual use for restoring order in the unruly House. The anecdotes about order and disorder in the Congress are sometimes amusing, sometimes pathetic, often both. The history of the Senate's gavel is less detailed and less amusing, but equally full of symbolism.

This book's real interest for me was its illustration of the separation between the two houses. A cynic might expect that a powerful faction or party could run roughshod over the Constitution's checks and balances by simply dominating both houses. This book shows how each house has proceeded in utter disregard of the other when developing its internal institutions, symbols, and traditions, and thereby implies the jealousy with which each house guards its independence. The mace and the gavel are themselves metaphors for a divided government. Alone, they each symbolize the house that uses them; but together they represent the Framers' wisdom in dividing the Federal power among several separated institutions sharing authority.