On November 7, 1861, the Battle of Belmont took place near Belmont, Missouri, marking Ulysses S. Grant’s first major engagement of the American Civil War. Grant, leading about 3,000 Union troops, launched an attack on a Confederate camp commanded by Brigadier General Gideon J. Pillow. His goal was to disrupt Confederate forces stationed along the Mississippi River and prevent reinforcements from moving south. The Union troops caught the Confederates by surprise, overran their camp, and appeared to claim a swift and decisive victory.

But victory quickly turned to chaos. As Grant’s men began celebrating and looting the captured camp, Confederate reinforcements crossed the river from Columbus, Kentucky, led by Major General Leonidas Polk. The tide of battle shifted dramatically as the Confederates counterattacked, forcing Grant’s troops into a fierce and disorderly retreat. Despite the confusion, Grant managed to rally his men and fight their way back to their transports along the riverbank. The retreat was bloody and intense, with both sides suffering heavy casualties.

The battle ended as a tactical Confederate victory, but it was a strategic learning experience for Grant. He showed remarkable composure under fire and proved his ability to act decisively in chaotic situations—a quality that would later define his leadership in larger campaigns. The encounter also exposed weaknesses in Union discipline and logistics, giving Grant valuable lessons that he would apply throughout the war.

Though relatively small in scale, the Battle of Belmont had lasting significance. It marked the emergence of Grant as a bold and aggressive commander, willing to take risks where others hesitated. The battle’s intense, close-quarters fighting gave Union soldiers a brutal introduction to the realities of war. For Grant, it was the first test of many to come—one that hinted at the relentless determination that would eventually carry him to victory at Appomattox and the presidency of the United States.

On November 7, 1874, the Republican elephant appeared for the first time in Harper’s Weekly, drawn by famed cartoonist Thomas Nast. In his cartoon, titled “The Third-Term Panic,” Nast illustrated a scene where various animals symbolized different political groups. At the center stood a massive elephant labeled “The Republican Vote,” lumbering through a forest of political turmoil. The image was a commentary on rumors that President Ulysses S. Grant might seek a controversial third term, which had stirred anxiety among voters.

The elephant symbolized the Republican Party’s strength and size, but also its potential to stumble under pressure. Nast used the animal to represent both power and vulnerability, showing how the party’s influence could be its greatest asset—or its downfall. His choice of the elephant was intentional: it was strong, dignified, and memorable, yet capable of destruction when provoked. The idea struck a chord with readers, who immediately recognized its meaning and began associating the animal with the Republican Party.

This was not Nast’s first foray into political symbolism—he had previously introduced the Democratic donkey in earlier cartoons. But the pairing of the donkey and elephant in American politics began with this illustration. Nast’s cartoons, appearing in a publication with national reach, shaped public perception of political identity during a time when print media was the main source of commentary and satire.

From that day forward, the elephant became the lasting emblem of the Republican Party, just as the donkey did for the Democrats. What began as a humorous sketch became one of the most enduring symbols in American political culture. Nast’s creation captured the character of a party and an era—powerful, proud, sometimes clumsy, but impossible to ignore.

Flaming Arrows🔥
Feudal Japanese armies used fire arrows made from hollow bamboo tubes packed with burning powder to ignite enemy fortifications. They were early proto-rockets. Some were engineered to whistle, terrifying opponents before impact. Records from 16th-century battles describe entire wooden gates collapsing after coordinated volleys lit them like giant torches.

Floating Gardens🪴
The Aztecs engineered chinampas—floating gardens built on lakes and anchored with willow trees. They produced multiple yearly harvests and helped feed enormous populations. Spanish chroniclers were stunned by their efficiency, and modern researchers consider chinampas one of the most sustainable farming systems ever created.

Tulip Inflation🌷
In 1600s Holland, rare tulip bulbs became so valuable one could cost more than a house. People traded tulip futures like modern stocks, but when the bubble burst suddenly, fortunes vanished overnight—cementing Tulip Mania as one of history’s most famous economic crashes.

Deadly Astronomy🔭
In ancient China, imperial astronomers faced life-or-death consequences. Predicting eclipses accurately signaled Heaven’s approval of the emperor. A miscalculation implied cosmic disorder and could lead to execution. Their work blended politics, science, and fear in a way few professions matched.

If you enjoy this edition of Today In History be sure to send it to a friend and force them to sign up because that’s what good friends do. Until next time, stay curious, question everything, and keep uncovering the mysteries of the past.