Hypacusics' Heroine
Sirs:
Speaking as one of the millions of hard-of-hearing folk in this land I wish that in your admirable review of Harriet Martineau's Retrospect of Western Travel (TIME, Nov. 2) the reviewer had played up more dramatically Harriet's really amazing achievement. This was not writing a lively and realistic description of our infant republic, but rather in spite of serious deafness collecting the facts for it. My lifelong interest in Harriet was inspired by her handicap, for I, too, have been seriously deaf all my life. . . .
I wish also you had printed the courageous paragraph from Society in America—the book reviewed was a by-product of that work—as an inspiration to us hypacusics. She said:
"I labored under only one peculiar disadvantage that I am aware of, but that one is incalculable. I mean my deafness. This does not endanger the accuracy of my information, I believe, as far as it goes, because I carry a trumpet of remarkable fidelity; an instrument moreover, which seems to exert some winning power, by which I gain more in tete-a-tete than is given to people who hear general conversation. Probably its charm consists in the new feeling of ease and privacy in conversing with a deaf person."
Her difficulties in conversation will strike a responsive chord in the cochlea of every hard-of-hearing person. She admired Malthus but could not understand him; he had a harelip and a cleft palate. Wordsworth took his teeth out after dinner, which made his most inspired words unintelligible to poor Harriet.
EARNEST ELMO CALKINS New York City
American Parallel
Sirs:
In line with your recent articles on Washington's apathetic response to wartime needs, may I suggest a parallel in American history.
President Lincoln faced similar troubles in the early days of the War between the States, permitting an under-equipped Confederate Army to march almost to the gates of Washington before the Federal forces received the leadership they needed.
Had Germany's Rommel been commanding the Southern army at Bull Run, it is likely that Washington would have been taken without too much trouble.
It seems that Lincoln found a job of house-cleaning necessary before unity of leadership was obtained. . . .
LYNNE BRANNEN JR. New York City
Fighting Age
Sirs:
... I believe that the U.S. errs in keeping a lot of old men in key Army positions in Washington and in the field. After 50 most men have lost their usefulness for high command.
Alexander was dead at 33. Hannibal was 29 when he crossed the Little St. Bernard Pass in the Alps; he was 31 at Cannae and was 45 at Zama. Julius Caesar was 45 in the Belgian campaign; 47 when he invaded Britain. . . .
Genghis Khan fought his last important campaign when he was 42. Gustavus Adolphus was 38 when he was killed at the battle of Lützen. Eugene of Savoy was 34 when he beat the Turks at Zenta; he was 46 at Malplaquet; he was 53 at Peterwardein. Marlborough fought his last battle with Eugene, at 59.
Frederick the Great was 51 at the end of the Seven Years' War in 1763, and that ended his military career.
Napoleon lacked two months of being 46 at Waterloo. Wellington had then just passed his 46th birthday.
Turn to American history.