Their Last Suppers: Legends of History and Their Final Meals Read online

  He was unable to sleep, and the doctors gave him tranquilizer shots and the first of many sleeping pills to help get him through the traumatic days ahead. Those days became years.

  Sobbing on her casket at the funeral, Elvis cried, “Goodbye darling, goodbye darling … lived my whole life for you, we’ll keep the house, everything you loved, we won’t change a thing.”

  Sick the next day, with a temperature of 102°F, Elvis received friends in his bedroom at Graceland, a habit that continued for the rest of his life, as he retreated into a world where he lived at night and slept all day.

  With the passing of his mother, Elvis threw himself even further into his career. Gold record followed gold record, and the money and the women rolled in. He became more and more dependent on medication for his sleep and found no shortage of doctors and hangers-on to get him the pills he needed daily. Just as destructive as the drugs, his love affair with junk food continued unabated. His appetite was becoming legendary. At one sitting he ate eight deluxe cheeseburgers, two bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches, and three chocolate shakes.

  Over the years the excessive food and drugs caused major changes in his physical appearance. The Elvis who weighed only 170 pounds at age 20 was 75 pounds heavier 10 years later and still growing.

  In 1974 a special medical team was installed in Graceland to help wean him off fat-laden pork chops, chicken-fried steaks, and the plates of cakes and cookies he could down effortlessly, all prepared for him by his loyal cooks.

  Recommending a breakfast of two poached eggs, orange juice, and coffee to start the day right, the doctor was stunned to find Elvis having his preferred breakfast of three double cheeseburgers, half a pound of fries, and a pound of bacon burnt to a crisp as a side dish.

  Drastic dieting to prepare him for an upcoming movie or concert would help drop 20 pounds or more, but in a matter of weeks the weight would be replaced, usually with a little interest.

  One particular night with pals, he had a craving for his favorite sandwich, “Fool’s Gold Special,” which was made of creamy peanut butter, grape jelly, and crisp lean bacon, piled inside a hollowed-out loaf sliced lengthwise and deep fried. A restaurant called the Colorado Gold Mine Company in the Rockies made it. Undeterred by the distance, he loaded his friends into his private plane and landed at Stapleton Airport after midnight, where the restaurant owner was waiting with twenty-two full sandwiches, a case of champagne, and a case of Perrier. Each sandwich contained more than 42,000 calories.

  Elvis began to miss concert appearances, sometimes almost collapsing on stage, as his drug-filled body could not cope with the demands he placed on it. At the heart of everything was the terrible loneliness he’d felt since the death of his mother. Numerous women had passed through over the years, but with the exception of Priscilla Presley, whom he’d wooed when she was a 14-year-old girl in Germany and later married, none could fill the void he seemed to feel.

  On May 28, 1977, while performing at the Philadelphia Spectrum, he couldn’t remember the lyrics of his songs and was staggering about the stage. The next night, in Baltimore, his voice was so weak the audience couldn’t hear him. He dropped the microphone, and eventually an assistant had to hold it for him.

  It was his last set. He had taken more than 128 doses of drugs during the tour. His crew had discreetly started carrying oxygen tanks around in case they needed to revive him. On August 16 Elvis showed no signs of being ready to hit the road again. Normally he would go on a Jell-O diet to lose weight, or he would starve himself for days on end to fit into the only two jumpsuits he could wear. But as he climbed the stairs of Graceland with his girlfriend, Ginger Alden, on August 16, 1977, Elvis called down for some “ice cream and cookies, but not as much as usual,” because he’d just finished eating spaghetti and meatballs.

  As always, he was plagued by insomnia that night and took two packets of his prescription drugs, not mentioning to Ginger that he had codeine and morphine hidden in his huge bathroom along with numerous other medications.

  After tossing about for a while he apparently still couldn’t sleep, so he rolled away from the sleeping Ginger and went off to his bathroom. She woke just after 2 a.m., and seeing the bed empty and the light still on in his bathroom she went to look for him. There on the floor, on his knees, was the King of Rock ’n’ Roll, Elvis Presley, dead at the age of 42.

  The autopsy stated that he died of hypertensive heart disease. He weighed nearly 350 pounds at death, and it took five large men to lift him down the stairs to the hospital.

  On August 18, 1977, with more than 4,500 floral tributes and tens of thousands of screaming mourners lining the streets, Elvis Aaron Presley was finally returned to his mother’s side at Forest Hill Cemetery, Memphis, Tennessee.

  A man who had everything—looks and talent, fame and money—could not cope with the loneliness within him. Each year more than 6 million fans pay homage to him at his Graceland home. The King lives on.

  MENUS

  Elvis Presley’s last meal was a simple snack of frosted cookies and ice cream, although a couple of hours earlier he ate spaghetti and meatballs, one of his all-time favorites.

  Favorite Foods

  Fried Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich

  Ham Pancakes

  Hawaiian Hamburgers

  Baked Apple and Sweet Potato Pudding

  Ham Bone Dumplings

  The golden rule at Graceland, Elvis’s home, was that breakfast, his favorite meal, was to be served all day, except mornings. Even the menu for his wedding to Priscilla on May 1, 1967, at the Aladdin Hotel in Las Vegas, reflected Elvis’s consuming love affair with food.

  Wedding Menu

  Ham and Eggs

  Southern Fried Chicken

  Oysters Rockefeller

  Roast Suckling Pig

  Poached and Candied Salmon

  Lobster

  Eggs Minnette

  Wedding Cake

  Champagne

  Spaghetti and Meatballs

  1 lb spaghetti pasta

  large pan boiling water, add salt

  Try to time the spaghetti so it is cooked at the same time as the sauce. Meatballs:

  2 lb ground beef

  2 beaten eggs

  1 chopped onion

  4 tbsp Worcestershire sauce

  ¼ cup tomato ketchup

  1 tsp oregano

  salt and pepper to taste

  Lightly sauté onion in pan and then combine with all other ingredients and roll into golfball-size balls. Lightly brown meatballs in the frying pan and remove.

  Elvis liked a heavy tomato sauce with his meatballs, and if you use sauce from a jar, lightly heat sauce and put meatballs in to simmer for about 10 minutes; add six whole peeled tomatoes and about 1 cup of tomato juice.

  Put spaghetti in boiling water for allotted time, remove from heat, strain, and mix in large bowl with meatball sauce. Sprinkle with finely chopped oregano and Parmesan cheese and serve.

  Fried Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich (3)

  ½ cup creamy peanut butter

  5 very soft bananas, mashed

  12 slices white bread

  4 oz soft butter

  Mix bananas and peanut butter together; make sandwiches and lightly fry in melted butter until golden brown on both sides.

  Ham Pancakes (20)

  1 cup regular pancake mix

  ½ cup cornmeal

  l ½ cups milk

  1 beaten egg

  2 tbsp melted butter

  3 tbsp cream cheese

  2 tbsp mayonnaise

  1 ½ tbsp horseradish sauce

  3 cups chopped ham, from hock or regular sliced

  In a large mixing bowl combine pancake mix, cornmeal, milk, egg, and butter.

  Pour a little batter on a hot griddle about 9 inches in diameter and fry the pancakes for about 2 minutes each side.

  In a separate mixing bowl mix the mayonnaise, cream cheese, and horseradish. Blend well.

  Add the ham, then
spoon a little of the ham mixture on top of each pancake. Roll the pancakes and fasten with a toothpick.

  Place on a baking sheet and broil for about 2 minutes. Eat at once, with or without maple syrup.

  Hawaiian Hamburgers

  1 large can sliced pineapple, fresh if available

  1 ½ lb lean ground beef

  sea salt and ground black pepper to taste

  4 hamburger rolls, poppyseed

  2 tbsp pineapple juice, or use syrup from can

  ¼ cup light brown sugar

  ½ cup tomato ketchup

  In a mixing bowl season the meat with salt and pepper. Place a spoonful of the meat into the hole of each pineapple ring.

  In a separate bowl mix the ketchup, brown sugar, and pineapple juice, then mix with the meat.

  Shape into 4 patties. Grill or pan fry patties to required taste, fry or grill pineapple rings, then place a patty on one side of each bun. Top each with a pineapple ring and place other half of each bun on top.

  Baked Apple and Sweet Potato Pudding

  4 large sweet potatoes

  4 medium-sized eating apples

  1 cup water

  ½ cup light brown sugar

  ½ tsp cinnamon

  ½ tsp apple pie spice

  ½ cup melted butter

  ½ tsp vanilla essence

  1 box graham cracker crumbs

  Wash and peel the sweet potatoes and apples, then cut into slices.

  Cover the bottom of the pie dish with graham cracker crumbs; layer the potato and apple slices over the top of the crumbs.

  Mix brown sugar and water and sprinkle over each layer. Season each layer with a sprinkling of apple spice, cinnamon, butter, and vanilla.

  Spread a handful of crumbs over the top of the pie and bake at 350°F for 45 minutes.

  Let stand for 4 to 5 minutes before serving.

  Ham Bone Dumplings

  1 large ham bone or leftover ham pieces

  2 quarts water

  salt and pepper

  Dumplings:

  2 ½ cups flour

  1 tsp salt

  ½ cup vegetable shortening

  1 cup cold water

  Simmer ham bone in water for 15 to 20 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

  Combine dumpling ingredients to make dough. Place the dough on a floured board and roll very thin. Cut the dough into small pieces and drop into pot with ham. Cook for about 20 to 25 minutes.

  LORD FREDERICK CHELMSFORD

  Defeated at Isandlwana, South Africa

  January 22, 1879

  Who are these people, these Zulus that embarrass our generals and convert our bishops?

  —Benjamin Disraeli, prime minister of England, to Parliament, 1879

  As the nineteenth century wore on, the saying “The sun never sets on the British Empire” was born. In Australia, India, Africa, and throughout Europe and the Caribbean, the Union Jack flag was flown. Powered by the Industrial Revolution with aggressive merchant fleets and administrators backed up by the resolute forces of its army and navy, Great Britain ruled over more territory than had ever been conquered before by any other nation on Earth.

  The “stand and fire” discipline of its army had prevailed over some of the mightiest forces in Europe, backed up by the latest artillery and cavalry with landed gentry in command. They could never have anticipated suffering their largest tactical reversal in more than 50 years against an enemy armed only with cowhide shields, short spears, and their own courage. They were about to meet the Zulus.

  After arriving and anchoring themselves in the Cape Town region of South Africa for several years, the British had gradually moved east along the coastline until settling in Durban on the East Coast. More colonists were shipped over from England to further anchor the developments, and a bustling economy was swiftly developed.

  The colonial administrator, Sir Bartle Frere, backed by his general, the heavily mustached Lord Frederick Chelmsford, was approached by Boer farmers descended from Dutch ancestry, with whom they would later have a major war, to defend them against the supposed threat of the Zulu king, Cetshwayo.

  Seizing on this request as a way to acquire more land for the British Crown and advance their own political aims and careers, Bartle Frere and Chelmsford issued the Zulu king with an ultimatum they knew he could not agree to, which was the permanent disbandment of his armies within 30 days. The king instantly refused, as they knew he must.

  And so on January 11, 1879, Lord Frederick Chelmsford led his forces, in three large columns, across the Buffalo River into Zululand. War was officially declared. In their eyes there could be only one outcome.

  The Zulu king, Cetshwayo, ruled some 400,000 people with an iron fist, first killing his own brothers to secure the throne. He was the product of a military culture that had terrified all the other African tribes with whom they came into contact. The Zulu social system was built around its army, and from childhood the boys were groomed in large military camps to endure hardship and to sacrifice all for the benefit of their king. Marriage was not allowed until they had proven themselves in battle, and competition between their regiments, Impis, was extremely fierce as everyone vied for the king’s approval and the right to marry.

  Although he had an army of more than 40,000 fierce warriors, Cetshwayo was no fool. He had watched the British move along the coast for the preceding years, and he was content to rule in his own little kingdom, which surely contained nothing the white men would want.

  However, the whole Zulu culture was founded on its military system. To disband the army was to disband his nation, so as the imperial troops crossed the river, Cetshwayo sat in his capital, Ulundi, with his Impis, pondering his next move.

  Placing himself in charge of the central column of 4,709 troops, 302 wagons and carts, and more than 1,500 transport oxen, Lord Chelmsford, a society soldier with no real military background, was sure of an easy victory. Though warned by South Africans such as Paul Kruger about the Zulu army’s ability to run all day across mountain tops and chew their cowhide shields for food, Chelmsford scoffed at how “undisciplined blacks” with no supply lines could stand up to his well-trained forces containing artillery, cavalry, and even rockets, with a solid bedrock of British soldiers equipped with the latest Martini-Henry repeating rifles.

  As the columns moved north, dragging their carts and artillery in unseasonably heavy rains over the gentle hills of Zululand, Chelmsford’s purpose in splitting his forces into three was to bring the Zulu army to battle with any one of the three powerful groups and smash it with one decisive blow.

  Unknown to him, that thinking was mirrored by King Cetsh-wayo. Sending several thousand troops to harass the flanking columns as his feints, he sent the main body of his army south toward Chelmsford’s main column with specific instructions to “crush the head of the snake.”

  By January 20, moving slowly by their standards to conserve energy, some 25,000 Zulus arrived undetected only 15 miles from where Chelmsford had set up his first base camp at a rocky outcrop on a plain dominated by a large dome-shaped rock called Isandlwana.

  After first splitting his forces into three, Chelmsford made the first major mistake of the war: He split them again.

  Acting on a tip from scouts who claimed they had seen Zulus to the north, Chelmsford moved half his troops at 2 a.m. on January 22, planning to take the Zulus by surprise and end the war with one blow.

  With horse hooves and cartwheels muffled to avoid any noise, his troops marched through the night looking for the Zulu army, supposedly southwest of Siphezi. Incredibly, the Zulu warriors crossed his front without any detection, moving northwest to the unsuspecting camp at Isandlwana.

  After searching fruitlessly for hours for his dream battle, a frustrated Lord Chelmsford elected to have lunch with his officers at the Mangeni Gorge, leaving instructions not to be disturbed. As native porters lit fires and polished the regimental silver he loved to use, some 9 miles to his rear the Zulu army was preparing to
inflict the greatest tactical defeat on the British Army in more than 50 years.

  For many of the officers traveling with Lord Chelmsford, the expedition so far had been little more than a picnic, riding off during the day to hunt Zululand’s abundant wildlife and then eating it in the evening while sipping the glorious wines they had brought with them.

  However, keeping favor with the irritable lord meant not questioning any tactic or decision he made. Chelmsford hated to see his officers think for themselves. One of these thinkers was a General Anthony Durnford, who was in charge of the mounted native auxiliaries, and he was deliberately left behind at the Buffalo River, where he couldn’t play a role in the battles to come. But Chelmsford had second thoughts and later ordered him to Isandlwana so he could keep more of an eye on him. On the morning of January 22 the veteran officer, who had the greatest respect for the Zulu nation, arrived with his cavalry at the base.