Navy Football vs. the Tides of History

Indeed it may seem strange to contemplate. How, you may fairly ask, can there possibly be any correlation between a football game played in 2005 and the history profiled in the Cutler Family Chronicles?

Below is an article that appeared in the publication Proceedings magazine (published by the United States Naval Institute) in 2006. The author is Tom Cutler, my acquisitions editor at the Naval Institute Press. That Thomas Cutler is the name of the father of Richard Cutler, the main protagonist in my novels, is an interesting and most gratifying coincidence, but it is not the connection I am referring to. Please read on.

Charlie Weis, 2005 Notre Dame 
football team coach

Our Lady Queen of Class
by Tom Cutler  

Call me a sissy. Call me corny, out-dated, or whatever you think appropriate. But on Saturday, 12 November 2005, I cried. I sat in front of my television with tears streaming down my face. It was not a war movie or a love story on the screen, but a football game!

I had just watched my team, Navy, seriously defeated by a powerhouse Notre Dame squad, 42-21. But that was not the reason for my tears.

When the game ended, a reporter ran up to Charlie Weis, Notre Dame's phenomenal coach. and asked him one of the usual post-game questions. Coach Weis politely, but firmly, told the reporter he had something more important to do and, pushing the microphone aside, headed for the opposite side of the field. With him went the entire Notre Dame team.

What I saw next I will never forget. With their fans looking on, The Fighting Irish joined the midshipmen and stood respectfully with them as the latter sang "Navy Blue and Gold," their alma mater.

An article in The Observer, a South Bend newspaper, described the scene:  "The weather was beautiful, the team looked great, and the home crowd at Notre Dame Stadium had plenty to cheer about on Saturday. However, the most impressive event in that stadium was when 80,795 people did no cheering at all. No yelling, no talking, not even an odd sneeze. Dead silence. That's what the Navy band received at the end of the game while they played their alma mater."

From that moment on, I am forever a Notre Dame fan (though I will still root for Navy when the two teams meet). It was a moment of pure class, of unabashed patriotism, and of true sportsmanship; an all-too-rare combination.

The class part is not too surprising. Though I am not Catholic and have been to Indiana only once, I have long had a healthy respect for Notre Dame as a university with class. Educational standards and the value of tradition have always brought this school much well-deserved respect.

The patriotism part is a bit more complicated. As a Vietnam veteran, I lived through an era when respect for the military was wanting by too many Americans. It was a time when CBS actually considered taking the Army- Navy game off the air. It was a lonely time when no one thanked you for your service.

I suspect that some of the tears I shed in front of the TV were a bit self-indulgent because I saw something I would have given much to have seen in those dark days. But it was not bitterness I felt; it was gratitude-thanks that we are now doing it right.

The sportsmanship part is something that lately we are not getting right. I have all but given up on my beloved NFL because it just isn't much fun anymore, when I have to watch players dance and strut after every routine tackle and wave the football in their opponent's face after scoring a touchdown. I won't say sportsmanship is dead, but it is seriously wounded.

But when those Notre Dame players stood beside their Navy opponents it was a gesture that said more than thousands of words could ever convey. Class, patriotism, sportsmanship-all in one simple, but noble, gesture.

I have since learned from friends who were there that the nobility went well beyond that one moment. I was told that the Notre Dame fans did not boo the opposing players when they first ran onto the field-which is often the case these days. Instead, they cheered them. And at the end of the first quarter, the stadium announcer asked the fans to recognize Navy "on this day after Veteran's Day"-and they gave the midshipmen a long standing ovation.

The Irish band played "Anchors Aweigh" several times during the game, and one witness watched as total strangers walked up to the midshipmen and thanked them for their service. He described it as not "Just one act of manners … it was all day long."

In post-game interviews, I watched spellbound as Notre Dame players spoke not of their own (awesome) achievements on the field, but talked instead of their opponents and how they faced far greater challenges in the future, not on the football field, but on the battlefield. Again, I cried.

Thank you, Charlie Weis, for a class act. Thank you, Notre Dame, for embracing patriotism. Thank you, Navy, for your service.

What Tom is writing about in this article – apart from the deep sense of civility, duty and decorum that largely defined society in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, but in more modern times has become badly eroded – is the gratitude that Americans traditionally have held for those serving in our military. Certainly our early naval officers and sailors – those profiled in the Chronicles – received a hero’s welcome when they returned home from war. Not so, tragically, for those returning from Vietnam in the 1970s, but the spirit of what we Americans hold dear was, as Tom so poignantly notes, recaptured on the day after Veterans’ Day, 2005, in South Bend, Indiana

It behooves us all to never forget that any football game played between any two of the service academies is a game in which every player on the field is willing to lay down his life for every fan watching from the stands or on television. That is something Notre Dame Coach Charlie Weis understood when his team played Navy.

Letter of Marque

Letter of Marque

Letters of marque – more properly called “letters of marque and reprisal” originated in 1243 when King Henry III of England issued licenses to specific individuals to seize enemy cargoes at sea and split the proceeds from the sale of those cargoes with the Crown. Later, in1354, King Edward III broadened the scope of these licenses to authorize a subject to make reprisals against the citizens and possessions of a hostile nation for alleged injuries perpetrated against the king by that nation. While at the time the reprisal could take place on land or sea, early on the term came to apply only to measures taken at sea.  Those in possession of a highly coveted letter of marque became known as privateers, and the practice was quickly adopted by most European maritime nations and became a mainstay of international law.

Perhaps unwittingly – although probably not – the Plantagenet king had opened wide a treasure trove of opportunity and profit for the private sector and for the Royal Exchequer. Throughout the Middle Ages enterprising English sea captains operated with the tacit understanding of their king if not his outright commission in harassing the maritime trade of offending nation-states. Things reached a fever pitch when privateers such as Sir Francis Drake seized Spanish ships laden with gold and silver on their return voyage from South America and the Spanish Main. Queen Elizabeth I was only too happy to accept this Midas touch and share in the bounty of the captured treasure and subsequent sale of the seized vessel, its value determined by newly developed Admiralty Courts (also known as “prize courts”). The privateer’s captain and crew all received a share based on rank, so everyone was happy – except, of course, the captain and crew of the captured vessel and the Court of King Phillip II of Spain. His displeasure led ultimately to the defeat of the Spanish Armada, one of most colossal and humiliating defeats in military history. 

A letter of marque thus conferred on the private merchant vessel a quasi-naval status, to the point where it was equipped with naval-style guns, often the 6- or 12-pounder variety. (A 6-pomder gun, for example, fired a shot that weighed six pounds.) A commissioned privateer was afforded the full protection of the rules of war, and captured privateers were treated (in theory at least) at prisoners of war. Unlike a naval vessel, however, the primary objective of a privateer was not to engage and destroy the enemy. A privateer’s prime objective was to board an enemy merchantman having caused as little damage as possible to its top-hamper and hull (so to not damage the selling price) and claim it as a prize of war.  If an enemy naval vessel looked on the horizon, a privateer would normally clap on all sail and run, no matter how heavily armed it might be. .

During the American Revolution, letters of marque were issued by state legislatures and by the Continental Congress. Such was the lure of quick and substantial profits, privateering made it increasingly difficult for the Continental navy to recruit sailors. The navy also seized British merchantmen, but not as a prime objective and not with as generous a split of earnings among the ship’s company.

John Paul Jones

To help illustrate the point, below is an exchange between Captain John Paul Jones and protagonist Richard Cutler that takes place in chapter one of A Matter of Honor. Jones is in Hingham, Massachusetts to recruit the 17-year-old Cutler as a midshipman to serve with him in the Continental sloop-of-war Ranger. Cutler has just informed Jones that Richard’s father, a shipping magnate, has donated two of his merchant vessels to the Glorious Cause.

    “I understand your father sent him [Gen. George Washington) two brigs last year.”
    “Yes, sir, he did,” Richard acknowledged. 
    “Refitted as privateers?”
    “Yes, sir. They’re based in Beverly and they’ve had some success. Their biggest prize was three British merchantmen bound for Cape Ann with munitions for Admiral Graves. General Washington was pleased to accept those munitions in his stead. I suspect the British might still be in Boston had these ships not been captured.”
    “I couldn’t agree more. Which is why I’ve invested so much time pounding the tables of Congress in Philadelphia. We need a strong navy for the very same reasons we need a strong army. We cannot rely for our defense on state militias or other local groups anymore than we can rely on privateers or state navies. If we are to prevail in this rebellion, our ships must do more than simply disrupt supplies coming from England to America. “
    “We have more than a hundred privateers at sea, Captain,” Richard pointed out. “Have not the supplies they have seized helped our cause?”
    “Yes, they have. And they have also done much to line the pockets of the owners of those vessels.” Jones took a deep swig of ale. “Privateering is not a calling, Richard. It’s a business, pure and simple. A damn profitable business, I might add. So much so that it’s become nigh impossible to recruit able seamen for our navy. Everyone wants a share of the riches, on the civilian side. But whilst privateers serve one purpose – and I concede, it’s an important one -- the navy serves quite another. And the navy’s mission will ultimately prove more important to victory.”

As a footnote to this discussion, the French term for a letter of marque is lettre de course, a term which gave rise to the word “corsair” as a synonym to “privateer.”

Photo credits: Lettre de marque [public domain]; Sir Francis Drake viewing treasure taken from a Spanish ship [public domain]; John Paul Jones, oil on canvas by Charles Wilson Peale [public domain].

Author Interview

William C. Hammond – Renewing America’s Seafaring Heritage
Quarterdeck, November 2012, used with permission

AMERICA’S rich seafaring heritage comes alive in William C. Hammond’s epic Cutler Family Chronicles, a fictional series set against the backdrop of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries.

The award-winning Chronicles, which feature the Cutler family of Hingham, Massachusetts, debuted in 2007 with the publication of A Matter of Honor. The novel introduces young Richard Cutler, who comes of age during the American Revolution. A Matter of Honor was followed by For Love of Country in 2010 and The Power & the Glory in 2011. This month the fourth title in the series – A Call to Arms – will be launched by the Naval Institute Press.

The Chronicles recount the founding days of the United States Navy and feature a broad cast of characters, including historical figures, such as Captains John Paul Jones, Edward Preble, Thomas Truxtun, and Silas Talbot, Lieutenants Stephen Decatur and Richard Sommers, and British Admirals Sir Hyde Parker and Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson.

Quarterdeck recently interviewed the Minnesota-based author:

What led you to writing in the first place?
I grew up in a literary family. My grandmother was a bibliophile of the highest order and surrounded herself with books wherever she went. She always gave books at Christmas to me and my two sisters. My uncle, a professor of English at Yale, was a voracious reader, as was my mother. I credit them for my love of books and my keen desire to someday be an author.

Is the Cutler Family Chronicles your first entry into writing fiction? What was the genesis for the novels?
No, my first entry into writing fiction was in my mid-twenties, when I lived in Maine with my uncle, and I wrote a novel about fourteenth century Plantagenet England and the Hundred Years’ War. I learned a lot during those eighteen months about the discipline and complexities of writing – and of course it was great fun living with Lance in such a lovely place – but fortunately for American letters that novel was never published. My interest in, and passion for, reading and writing historical novels never left me, however, and at the age of fifty I decided to again cast my fate to the wind and started doing research for A Matter of Honor.

Considering today's market, was it difficult to find a publisher?
It has always been difficult for a debut novelist to find a publisher, and it is especially difficult in today’s publishing industry. Since mainstream publishers don’t know what the future holds for them, they are not investing in young (in terms of experience) authors the way they used to when I entered the industry in 1975. So what we are left with today is essentially “celebrity publishing,” in which mainstream publishers only publish books that have a national “platform” and can all but guarantee them a profit. Of course, there are many excellent smaller royalty-based publishers, but the marketplace is flooded with book proposals and it’s often hard to get their attention. I am fortunate to have a very good agent.

What drew you to nautical fiction, as opposed to another genre?
I grew up on Cape Ann in Massachusetts and learned to sail at a very young age. I love sailing and I love the sea. In addition to sailing I fished twenty-five lobster traps off the coast of Manchester. When after college I began working for Little Brown as a sales rep, I started reading the Hornblower novels, all of which were distributed in the US by Little Brown. What a launching pad that turned out to be!

As your fourth novel is launched, do you consider writing to be your vocation?
I do consider writing my vocation, although not just because of writing my own novels. I am also a ghostwriter (which is more remunerative) and have a number of clients for whom I am writing original material or doing heavy developmental editing on text already written. My dream is to someday live comfortably on my own novels and on Social Security, but today that dream remains exactly that, a dream.

Your new novel, A Call to Arms, once again follows the Cutler family to sea? How far ahead  have you planned the series?
Two more books are planned in the series. The fifth volume, the first draft of which I am soon to complete, will focus on the troubled years (both for the country and for the Cutler family) between the end of the First Barbary War (the backdrop of A Call to Arms) and the start of the War of 1812. The sixth and final volume will focus exclusively on the War of 1812 and will (I trust) tie up all lose ends for readers.

Your novels capture the surroundings in which you place your characters. What inspirations do you use to create these moments and events?
In certain cases, memories. Over the years I have visited a number of the places I write about in the novels. Where I haven’t been, I can get a good sense of a place through photographs and information off of the Internet and in travel books. For example, a lavish picture book on eighteenth century London published a few years ago by David Godine has served me well.

Do you have a particular approach to researching your novels? Do you maintain a research library?
In researching I do a lot of reading, including original texts such as the log John Paul Jones kept on Bonhomme Richard. I have also been to a number of maritime museums, primarily in New England, and I have been aboard USS Constitution, for example, perhaps twenty times. I don’t tend to travel far afield, however, especially after I start work on a manuscript. Travel can be fun and interesting and informative; it can also be time-consuming and an expensive form of pencil- sharpening.

Please describe how you approach writing your novels. 
I suspect that my approach is somewhat different from many other writers. I arise each morning between four and five o’clock (for me, the best time of the day), make coffee, putter around the kitchen to get the blood flowing and my eyes focusing. After reviewing the night’s accumulation of emails, I start in editing the work I had done the previous morning. On some mornings that is all I do. I cannot go on to new text until I am satisfied (for the moment, at least) with what is already written. I impose no minimum word count, no page count, no nothing. What is, is. There are mornings when I spend my entire allotted time on one descriptive paragraph, until I’m convinced I have it right. In sum, therefore I write only one draft. After the draft is finished I edit it, of course, many times over. But I have never felt the necessity to re-write a manuscript per se.

What have been the greatest influences to this point in your writing career?
Certainly the sea has had a major influence. Growing up on the ocean, being on the ocean whenever possible, and reading about the ocean have been pursuits of mine since I can remember. Also, as a child I stuttered. Since I was challenged by the spoken word, I was determined to excel in the written word. Winning several writing prizes while in high school helped set my compass course.

What comes next in your writing? Have you considered writing about other historical periods for your fiction?
I’m not sure what I will work on next after I finish the sixth and final volume of the Cutler Family Chronicles. I want to write a book for my three sons that chronicles the first six years of my marriage to their mother, before we had children. Victoria passed on from cancer last year and her loss has been hard to bear. That book, of course, is meant just for family. But who knows, there may be a way to expand that into another book that has a wider audience. It would be a wonderful way to honor her memory. And as she would want me to do, I will get back to historical fiction and/or nonfiction at some point, assuming my weak vision holds out.

Please describe where you write.
Nothing exotic here, I'm afraid. We have a small study off our kitchen in Minneapolis, and that serves as my quarterdeck. A PC on a desk, no telephone, piles of books everywhere, research notes catalogued in some fashion or other – in other words, a typical writer's lair. It's where I feel most comfortable, and it's near the coffee maker, which, for those early morning hours, is an obvious benefit.

Is there one moment that stands out in your writing career?
I suppose that moment would have to be the day I signed my first contract, an act that carried with it a handsome (to me) royalty advance. I was actually going to be paid for doing what I love to do! The next best moment was when I signed a publishing contract with the Naval Institute Press, after my original publisher decided to suspend operations in early 2009. NIP is truly a wonderful publisher.

When you're not researching, what do you like to read for pleasure? What are your other avocations?
What I read for pleasure is quite eclectic. There are certain modern authors I enjoy, such as Pat Conroy and Philippa Gregory, and of course there are many modern writers of historical/nauti cal fiction whom I admire. And I enjoy going back to the novels of Hemingway and Fitzgerald and Faulkner, and such timeless classics as The Catcher in the Rye and A Separate Peace. So it really is all over the map. When I’m not reading or writing, I enjoy a good walk around a lake and perhaps a sail upon the lake. I have two sons living with me, and spending time with them is always a special occasion.

Do you read your own work after it is published? Do you have a favorite nautical fiction title or series written by others?
I do read my own work after it’s published. I really have to in order to ensure I am carrying forward the right material (e.g., physical attributes, subplots, any sort of loose end) into future books. I realize that the books written by Patrick O’Brian are many people’s favorite nautical fiction series, but I’m still partial to C. S. Forester.

What do you think about e-books and electronic readers like Kindle or Nook?
I’m an old print guy and I prefer the tactile feel of paper to a screen. The printed book truly is wonderful technology! But I totally “get” why people like e-readers, and from an author’s perspective, it’s wonderful for a customer to be able to make a buying decision on the spot and access the content within minutes. And with my weakening vision I know I will have to succumb to an e-reader sooner rather than later. When I do, I know I’ll be happy I did, and I will chastise myself for waiting so long!

Is there anything else you would like to share with our readers?
Only that I am very grateful for the praise and encouragement I have received from readers in this country and from around the world. These emails serve as great motivation to get up before dawn each morning and attend to my craft. I hope that in the immediate and more distant future I am able to please readers to the extent they tell me I have so far.

Jefferson vs. Obama

Thomas Jefferson

Barack Obama

Philosophically speaking, President Thomas Jefferson and President Barack Obama could not be further apart. Jefferson was a Democrat-Republican, a nomenclature which to our modern mind might represent the best (or worst) of the political landscape, but which at the time referred to a political party that adhered to the ideals of republicanism: an agrarian society personified by the yeoman farmer; states’ rights; minimal or no taxation; and above all, limited government bureaucracy and limited government interference in the daily lives of American citizens. Its strength was in the South and West, and its champions included men (in addition to Jefferson) such as James Madison and James Monroe.

Opposed to the Republican Party was the Federalist Party comprised largely of merchants, bankers and entrepreneurs. The Federalists, by contrast, believed in a strong central government endowed with full powers to protect its citizens at home and to flex its muscles abroad. Its popularity was concentrated in the North, particularly in the five New England states, and its champions included such men as John Adams and Alexander Hamilton.

Whatever one’s political leaning might be today, few Americans would disagree that President Obama’s political philosophy is radically different from that espoused by President Jefferson.

One can argue, however, that both presidents made gross miscalculations on the need of a strong military, in particular a strong navy.

U.S. Battleship Division Nine, 1917

When serving as consul to France in the late 1780s and early 1790s, Jefferson made it known that he advocated a strong navy to protect American maritime interests against pirates and other seagoing miscreants (the backdrop of For Love of Country, volume II of the Cutler Family Chronicles). As vice president to John Adams, however, he flip-flopped on that issue. When he became president in 1801, he seemed to still favor a smaller navy, and yet sent five powerful naval squadrons to the Mediterranean during the war with Tripoli (the backdrop of the soon-to-be-released A Call to Arms, volume IV of the Chronicles). During his first administration the U.S. Navy expanded considerably in number of ships. But then, just as storm clouds were again gathering over the Atlantic and another war with Great Britain loomed, Jefferson reversed himself again and called for the construction of coastal gunboats to be given priority over the construction of frigates and other traditional naval vessels. To his mind, the coming war would be strictly a defensive affair, so why build more warships? How the United States would defend herself against the 1,000 ship Royal Navy with flotillas of gunboats was a question that Jefferson never seemed ready, willing or able to answer.

U.S. Navy Amphibious assault ships, 2010

Fast–forward two centuries. In the last of the three presidential debates, President Obama made what was to many analysts a similar gross miscalculation regarding the need for a strong naval presence. When informed by his debate opponent that the current Navy is smaller than it has been at any time since 1917, the president responded by essentially claiming that modern technology has obviated the need for a large standing navy. The United States can do very well, thank you very much, with a few aircraft carriers and nuclear submarines. But is such a statement accurate?

In a New York Post article entitled “The Prez Misleads on the Military’s Needs” dated 10/24/12, Rear Adm. (ret.) Joseph Callo writes as follows:

“Our naval forces are now badly overextended. Equipment and people have been worn down –and there are serious questions about the ability of the downsized U.S. Navy to meet more than a limited number of major threats.”

Admiral Callo goes on to write, “Numbers do count, Mr. President, and at present we’re getting the numbers wrong. One ship, one plane, one person can be in only one place at a time. And no level of technological capability can make up for it if the ships, planes and people aren’t where we need them, when we need them and in sufficient numbers.” He cites the recent attack on the American consulate in Benghazi as an example of deficient naval forces in the Mediterranean unable to make a timely response that could possibly have saved the lives of four Americans, including the U.S. ambassador to Libya.

Putting twenty-first century technology aside, I can almost hear the echoes of Secretary of War Henry Dearborn and Navy Secretary Robert Smith delivering the same sort of message to President Jefferson in 1808.

Can you?

On a personal note, I want to state that Admiral Callow is an acquaintance of mine and I know him to be a patriot and a man of superior intellect and integrity. He is also the author of many fine books, his most recent being The Sea Was Always There.

Photo credits: Portrait of Thomas Jefferson by Rembrandt Peale in 1800, [public domain]; Official portrait of Barack Obama [public domain]; U.S. Battleship Division Nine steaming in to Rosyth, Scotland, 1918.[public domain]; Six of the U.S. Navy's seven Amphibious assault ships in formation, 2010, [public domain]

The Rock of Gibraltar

The Rock of Gibraltar

Few locations in the history of Mankind have been as devoutly coveted as Gibraltar, a blade-shaped stab of land thrusting out from the southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula at the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea.

The first recorded inhabitants of Gibraltar were the Phoenicians, who no doubt saw the importance of the peninsula in re-supplying their forays into the Atlantic Ocean starting around 1000 B.C. The Carthaginians and the Romans also established settlements there at the time when the Rock of Gibraltar was considered one of the Pillars of Hercules, after the Greek legend that pegged Hercules as the creator of the Straits of Gibraltar. After the collapse of the Roman Empire, Gibraltar was occupied first by the Vandals and subsequently by the Visigoths.

The Siege and Relief of Gibraltar, 1862

All that changed in 771 A.D. when the great armies of Islam swept across North Africa and up into Spain and France via Gibraltar, conquering everything and everyone in their path and bringing with them, into the Dark Ages, the enlightenment of the ancient Greeks and Persians. Islam maintained an iron grip on most of Spain until 1462 when the duke of Medina, acting on behalf of King Henry IV of Castile, reclaimed Spanish control of Gibraltar.

But alas for Spain, Gibraltar was not to remain forever in Spanish hands, despite its geographical and emotional attachment to mainland Spain. In 1704, during the War of the Spanish Succession, a combined English and Dutch force captured the town. Under the terms of the subsequent Treaty of Utrecht, Gibraltar was ceded to Great Britain in perpetuity. Spanish attempts to regain control in 1727 and again starting in 1779 both ended in failure.

So how did Gibraltar appear to someone who had never before visited the area? Below is a scene from For Love of Country, Volume II in the Cutler Family Chronicles, in which protagonist Richard Cutler sails in an armed family-owned schooner from Boston to Algiers to try to rescue his brother and his brother’s shipmates from an Arab prison. On the way he stops over in Gibraltar to visit with his brother-in-law, a post captain in the Royal Navy attached to the Mediterranean Squadron. Richard is under the impression, mistakenly as it turns out, that the Royal Navy will assist him in his mission.

Europa Point, Gibraltar

            Richard sat in silence as the oarsmen rowed the boat over to the naval squadron’s anchorage. Only the steady creak of oars rising and dipping, rising and dipping broke the silence. Richard took advantage of the lull to survey the western face of Gibraltar, now revealed to him by an evening sun streaking through broken clouds. Through the dissipating fog and mist he saw what appeared to be a gargantuan battle cruiser of mythical proportions pointing north, the magnificent height of the Rock serving as an old-fashioned poop deck rising high above the Mediterranean. There was even what seemed to be a ship’s hull, a substantial wall running close to the water’s edge from as far north as he could see all the way south past the fortress to Europa Point at the southern tip of the rocky promontory. Interspersed along the wall every fifty feet or so were clusters of star-shaped batteries housing cannon of various firepower standing in defense of official and private buildings of Spanish, British, and Italian construction. And, to his surprise, he saw Moorish construction too: holding a commanding position where a gentle slope gave way to a steep escarpment a third of the way up to the top of the Rock loomed a massive stone castle in a triangular shape resembling an Egyptian pyramid. Attached to the castle was a square-turreted redoubt replete with merlon battlements and a huge stone archway flanked on both sides by thick stone walls that zigzagged down along the embankment to the wall at the water’s edge.

Tower of Homage in the
Moorish Castle, Gibraltar

            The coxswain followed Richard’s gaze. “The Tower of Homage, sir,” he explained, his seasoned tone suggesting prior experience acting as tour guide to visiting dignitaries. “That’s what we English call it. The Moors call it Al Qasabah. It was built in the early fifteenth century after the Moors recaptured Gibraltar from the Spanish. Quite a sight, isn’t it? The British governor lives on the top floor of the redoubt.”

            “I’ll be damned,” Richard marveled, awed by the sight and wondering what it must have cost the Spanish to finally wrest this fortress away from the Moors.

            A glance to the right or left of the castle confirmed how heavily fortified Gibraltar was, and why the Spanish had failed during the Great Siege of 1779–83 to take back from the British what was, geographically if not by the Treaty of Utrecht, Spanish soil. All along the escarpment were natural caves of various sizes, giving the impression of an enormous, two-mile-long honeycomb of gun ports. The iron black of cannon muzzles protruded everywhere like the dark tongues of unseen beasts lurking in their dark depths. In areas devoid of caves the British had erected additional gun batteries, armed to the teeth with 64-pounders--some larger, it seemed to Richard, if guns of such enormous size existed. And from his current vantage point out on the waters of Algeciras Bay, away from the dominance of the fortress and the sheer rock cliffs, he could see high up on the very peak of the Rock what he would have deemed to be impossible: silhouettes of mammoth cannon arrayed in back-to-back formation. One rank faced north toward Catholic Spain, the other south across the eight-mile Strait toward the empire of the Prophet: the North African realm of Islam.


As a footnote to history, in 1967 the citizens of Gibraltar rejected a proposal for Spanish sovereignty. Today Gibraltar governs it own affairs, with certain powers such as defense and foreign relations residing with the British government.

Photo Credits: "The Rock of Gibraltar's North Front cliff face from Bayside showing the embrasures in the Rock." c. 1810. [public domain]; "The Siege and Relief of Gibraltar, 13 September 1782" by John Singleton Copley (1738-1815), c. 1783. [public domain]; Eastern cliffs at Europa Point, Gibraltar.[Creative Commons]; Tower of Homage in the Moorish Castle, Gibraltar.[Creative Commons]

Who Was England’s True Enemy in 1776?

King George III 

What Americans refer to as the “Revolutionary War”, most Brits refer to as the “American War of Independence.” It may seem a fine distinction, but semantically the British are correct. A revolution normally erupts within a country with the aim of overthrowing the rulers of that country, as happened, for example, in France in 1789. On 4 July 1776, the Second Continental Congress declared America an independent nation, and the leaders of the united American states declared their country at war against their British overlords, most of whom were based three thousand miles away across the Atlantic.

No matter how you slice and dice it, however, the war was a civil war. Since the vast majority of the three million people living in the thirteen colonies in 1776 were of British descent, and no other nation had yet recognized the United States as an independent country, it was a conflict in which British citizens fought against British citizens – except, of course, when fighting the thousands of soldiers-for-hire from Hesse-Kassel, Hanover, and other German states of the Holy Roman Empire.

The moonlight Battle of Cape St Vincent    

But what really was at issue for England in this war? Who was at stake? Was it simply to punish the “rebels” for bad behavior and bring them back into the fold of the British Empire? The answer is, in a word, no. As the war in America dragged on and casualties mounted on both sides, many citizens of Great Britain and many members of Parliament became increasingly dissatisfied with the way the inept American Secretary was conducting the war. Why is that? Perhaps it was because, from their perspective, Germaine and his military cohorts were emphasizing the wrong enemy.

Battle of Bunker Hill

To illustrate the point, following is a scene from chapter eight of A Matter of Honor in which protagonist Richard Cutler is taking his daily constitutional with his uncle, William Cutler, on the grounds of the Cutler residence in Fareham, England. Richard is under what is essentially house arrest following a stint in Old Mill Prison in Plymouth, and he is confined to the not inconsequential estate of his uncle for the duration of the war. William Cutler is a prominent member of the rising merchant class in England and has amassed a tidy fortune in partnership with Richard’s father in Massachusetts. Two sugar plantations owned and operated by the Cutlers in the West Indies comprise the bulk of their family wealth. William Cutler starts out speaking.

“I’d like to pick up on a subject we broached last evening,” he said, the gravity in his voice reflecting the time he had devoted since then to clarifying his own views on the subject. “As you recall, I made several references to ‘the war’. Understandably, to you and to most people in America, ‘the war’ means ‘the revolution’. Fact is, England is currently engaged in two wars, each with an entirely separate purpose. The first war is to maintain our empire. That, sadly, involves the civil war in America. At the same time, we are fighting a second war to sustain our empire. That one is against our ancient enemy, France. At stake are the sugar islands of the West Indies -- our islands, Richard, Barbados and Tobago among them. Whoever controls those islands controls the wherewithal to wage a hundred wars. Which is why I am convinced that Spain and Holland will soon enter this war. And other countries too, all allied against us. It then will become a world war, and England will be standing alone. Mind you, these other countries will not be fighting in support of American revolutionary ideals any more than France is. Why would Louis and his chevaliers support open rebellion against a king? No, they’ll be fighting for the same reason they always do, for their own commercial self-interests, this time at the expense of Great Britain. Our navy is over-extended and we’re committing far too many resources to the civil war in America whilst paying scant attention to the real threat in the Indies. We can’t defend our islands properly and our enemies are aware of our weaknesses.” 

The Death of General Montgomery
at the Attack on Quebec    

Richard walked on, pondering what his uncle had said. He had to admit, it made sense. “How would you advise the king and his council, were you able to?” he asked.

“I am able to, and in fact I have done so through my contacts in Westminster. My advice to King George and Parliament is to seek reconciliation as quickly as possible with the former colonies.”

Richard felt his eyebrows involuntarily shoot up. 

“You’d sue for peace?  Grant America her independence?”

“If necessary, yes,” William Cutler said with conviction. “England would be far better off, in my opinion, with the United States as her ally rather than her enemy.  After all, we share a common heritage and system of beliefs. Together, there would be no stopping us. And the civil war is simply not worth the cost. Our military and exchequer are being bled dry in America whilst we put our true source of wealth and prosperity at grave risk. Many Britons agree with me, which is why you’ve found so many people sympathetic to you both here and in the West Country...”

I have to agree with Mr. Cutler, as I believe most British and American historians would today.

Photo credits: George III of the United Kingdom [public domain]; Battle of Bunker Hill by Howard Pyle [public domain]; The moonlight Battle of Cape St Vincent by Francis Holman [public domain]; The Death of General Montgomery at the Attack on Quebec, by John Trumbull, 1786 [public domain].

Tripoli 1801 vs. Iraq 2003

It does indeed seem odd to think that there could be any similarity between the two wars, beyond the fact that they were both fought against an Arab state. After all, in 1801 at the start of the First Barbary War (the backdrop of A Call To Arms to be released in November by the Naval Institute Press) the United States was a young republic regarded humorously if not contemptuously by Great Britain and France, as well as the four Barbary States of Morocco, Algiers, Tripoli and Tunis. America, at the time, was accustomed to being bullied and pushed around. In contrast, at the start of the Second Gulf War in 2003 the United States was so powerful a nation that any foreign leader brash or foolish enough to dismiss it did so at his peril.

George W. Bush

Thomas Jefferson

And then there were the two American presidents separated by two hundred years of history and a sea of ideology. But there were similarities between these two men. At least in theory, both men favored a small federal bureaucracy and both championed states’ rights as a preferred form of government and entrepreneurship as a preferred way to stimulate economic growth. Just as George W. Bush was often accused of flip-flopping on important issues, so was Thomas Jefferson, especially when it came to the need for a strong Navy. At first he was for it, then he was against it, before being for it again and then against it again. Fortunately for the United States, he was for it during the First Barbary War, perhaps because the bashaw of Tripoli had declared war on America without just cause – or, for that matter, without any cause. Yusuf Karamanli needed an excuse to send his pirate fleets out onto the Mediterranean to capture American merchant vessels, expropriate their cargoes, and enrich his coffers. Declaring a jihad, or a holy war against the infidel Christian Americans, seemed his best alternative.

In a similar fashion, Saddam Hussein provoked war with the United States and its allies in the First Gulf War by sending troops into Kuwait to expropriate Kuwait’s oil and to annex the emirate to Iraq. Twelve years later Saddam Hussein thumbed his nose at U.N. sanctions related to his presumed stash of WMDs (Weapons of Mass Destruction) – not a wise decision since the United States led a coalition of nations (including some Arab nations) demanding compliance with these sanctions.

F-15 during Operation
Iraqi Freedom

It is not the purpose of this blog to define and analyze all the reasons why the United States went to war with Tripoli and Iraq. The issues surrounding the invasion of Iraq in 2003 are sensitive ones and, to many people of various political persuasions, not yet fully resolved. And while it’s certainly true that presidents and prime ministers -- and kings and queens and sheiks and what have you -- try to inject a note of idealism and national pride into their rationale for going to war, it is also true that in the First Barbary War and in the Second Gulf War the two American presidents had a common objective. It may not have been the primary military or diplomatic objective, but in each case it was one that if successful would have justified for the ages the cost in American blood and treasure to ensure victory.

Burning of the Frigate Philadelphia
in the Harbor of Tripoli

First consider the Second Gulf War. Whatever one’s views on the American-led invasion of Iraq, most people can agree that Saddam Hussein was a brutal and evil man. Whether using instruments of torture that slowly chewed a victim to pieces in front of the victim’s own eyes, or using chemical gasses against his own citizens, Hussein is an individual who has earned the eternal condemnation of history – not to mention Allah.

Yusuf Karamanli was also a man not to be outdone when it came to mayhem and murder. When his father died, Yusuf was third in line to the Tripolitan throne. Soon after the burial rites he invited his oldest brother Hassan, the heir apparent, to have dinner with him and their mother. During the dinner Yusuf stood up, fired a bullet into his brother’s chest, and then stabbed him a hundred times to make sure he was dead – right in front of their mother! He then seized as hostages the wife and children of his next oldest brother, Hamet, and banished him from the realm. A short time later he had himself declared bashaw (king) of Tripoli.

No question: Saddam Hussein and Yusuf Karamanli were two men the world was better off without. But their manner of rule was not so very different from certain other regencies, sheikdoms and emirates of North Africa and the Middle East. These areas were / are rife with anti-Western despots who remain(ed) in power by perpetrating a reign of terror against their citizens while maintaining a firm grip on the military. President Bush and his advisers were convinced that if Saddam Hussein could be overthrown and a pro-Western style government established in his stead, Iraq would shine like a “beacon of light” to oppressed Arabs throughout the Middle East.

Similarly, President Jefferson was convinced that if the United States could defeat Tripoli and establish pro-Western rule there, Tripoli would help pull in the reins on piracy that had savaged neutral shipping in the Mediterranean for centuries. The fledgling United States would have shown the world that at least one nation had the guts to stand up to a petty tyrant, and as a result the United States would have earned the respect and gratitude of the world.

And how would all this ideally be realized? Bush would realize his objective by deploying a “shock and awe” strategy that would bring the full weight of American sea, air and land power to bear on Iraq, crush the country into submission, and then rebuild it by ousting Saddam and the Arab Socialist Ba’ath Party and establishing a pro-American government. Jefferson would realize his objective by deploying an “awe and talk” strategy (I’m not making this up) in which the might of a powerful American naval squadron standing off the coast of Tripoli would convince Yusuf that since he could not prevail in this war, he should negotiate with American consuls, parlay the best deal he could for himself, and then yield the throne to his brother. During the course of the war Hamet Karamanli had become a staunch friend of the United States and he had fought bravely beside American Marines in an attack on the Tripolitan city of Derne. He had sworn to establish a pro-Western government in Tripoli when he was restored to his rightful throne.

Neither plan worked out exactly as either of the two presidents had hoped, but surely both of them shared a common idealism in their war against an Arab state.

Photo Credits: George W. Bush [Public domain]; Thomas Jefferson [Public domain]; F-15 during Operation Iraqi Freedom [Public domain]; Burning of the Frigate Philadelphia in the Harbor of Tripoli by Edward Moran [Public domain].

Was England Really So Unreasonable?

Newspaper posting of
Stamp Act, 1765.    

The Sugar Act. The Stamp Act. The Townshend Act. These and other acts of Parliament legislated during the 1760s and 1770s have been seared into our brains since our first American History class in elementary school. Most of the key events cited as causes of the American Revolution were either the Parliamentary acts themselves or the actions of colonists rising up in defiance of these acts. The one exception may be the Boston Massacre in 1770 which came about when (according to one widely accepted version) a British soldier was struck by a snowball and his musket accidentally discharged. But in March of 1770 the citizens of Boston were angered by the presence of Redcoats in their city and outraged at being forced to house these soldiers in their homes, as decreed by the Quartering Act of 1768.

Boston Massacre

What was the motivation of the British in enacting such legislation? Was it, as many historians claim, to punish unruly colonists and force the will of British hegemony upon them? Eventually that may have been true, but not during the years immediately following the end of the Seven Years’ War (also known as the French and Indian War). Only when revolution loomed on the horizon in the 1770s and there were too many instances of open defiance against British rule did Parliament decide to take retaliatory measures. Patriots throwing a tea party at the expense of the East India Company was one thing; having the Sons of Liberty threaten the lives and livelihood of British personnel assigned to the colonies was quite another.

The Destruction of Tea at Boston Harbor    

Soon after the 1763 peace agreement that ended the war with France, Parliament imposed such legislation as the Sugar Act and Stamp Act for one simple reason: the war effort had proven to be enormously expensive, as did the ongoing costs of administering the colonies and protecting them against the enemies of propriety and social order. To King George and his ministers, it seemed only right that the colonies be required to pay their fair share for the privilege of living in the security and sanctity of the British Empire

Sound reasonable? Perhaps to our generation, but certainly not to many English colonists living in America at that time. To them, any levy of taxes without the consent of the governed violated their unalienable rights as free English citizens and were therefore subject to open resistance.

Boston 1768 by Paul Revere

To help illustrate the point, following is an excerpt from chapter 2 of A Matter of Honor. Richard Cutler and his brother Will are having supper at the home of their English cousins in Fareham, a town in Hampshire north of Portsmouth, England. Joining them for the occasion are close friends and neighbors: the Hardcastle family, the patriarch of which is a retired Royal Navy post captain who is somewhat miffed by a statement Will has made concerning the situation in America. The year is 1774. 

“Explain yourself, sir,” Henry Hardcastle harrumphed.

Will’s blue eyes remained steady on the retired naval officer. “I mean no disrespect to you, Captain,” he said, “or to anyone at this table. If I have offended you, I most sincerely apologize. I merely wish to point out that loyalty to a king or country is something that must be earned, not decreed. Unfortunately, most members of Parliament seem not to understand this. Nor do the king’s ministers except for William Pitt and perhaps one or two others. King George has called us ‘ungrateful children.’ Lord Sandwich promises us ‘a jolly good spanking.’ Is that all we Americans are to you? Children to be whipped into submission?”

“Poppycock!” Henry bellowed. “Has not your family fared well in the colonies? Should that alone not inspire loyalty in you? And what’s all this bosh about children?”

“You’re right, Captain,” Will agreed. “We have fared well. We are fortunate to have family in England with means and influence. Most people in Massachusetts are not so fortunate. They are not treated as kindly, I can assure you.”

Henry Hardcastle threw up his arms in frustration. His daughter (author’s note: Richard’s future wife) said:

“Are you suggesting, Will, that my father is somehow responsible for how people are treated in America?”

“No, not directly, Katherine. But every Englishman in a position of influence must bear some responsibility.”

“I say!” Henry fumed, his dander up.

Jamie (author’s note: Katherine’s brother, a Royal Navy midshipman) asked, in steadier tones, “Is Parliament’s position so unreasonable, Will? Surely you must realize that the cost of maintaining an army in the colonies is quite staggering, and that England must pay exorbitant annual tributes to the Barbary States to protect American shipping in the Mediterranean. Should the colonies not contribute to these costs? Your so-called Sons of Liberty resist paying taxes but ignore the simple truth that these taxes are raised primarily for your own defense and safety.”

“And bear in mind,” added Robin (author’s note: Will’s cousin), “the taxes we pay in England are much higher than what you are being asked to pay in America. Twenty-five times higher, in fact. Had you the representation in Parliament you seem to desire, you’d find no sympathy for your position there. Your own Dr. Franklin was booed off the floor last session when he tried to present your grievances.”

“Understand,” said Will, “it’s not just about taxes. If that’s what Parliament believes, Parliament is wrong. What we in the colonies want – what we have sought in every petition we have sent King George – is simply to be granted the same rights as all free Englishmen. Our grievances have been ignored. Why? Do we not deserve the courtesy of a reply? Are we so unworthy?”

Richard had heard Will speak often on this topic, but not to this extent and never with such eloquence. Still, he resented Will for broaching the subject. It was one that lay in waiting like a Pandora’s box behind every discussion in Britain gravitating towards ‘the American situation.’ Once it was opened, the ills of empire were released, consuming in their fiery wake all possibilities for civil conversation. William Cutler (author’s note: Richard and Will’s uncle) was determined this evening to keep that box firmly shut. He rose to his feet and gently rapped a glass with the edge of a spoon…

Photo credits: Newspaper posting of Stamp Act, 1765. Public domain; Boston Massacre perpetrated in King Street Boston on March 5th 1770 by a party of the 29th Regt. Public domain; "The Destruction of Tea at Boston Harbor," lithograph depicting the 1773 Boston Tea Party. 1846 by Nathaniel Currier. Public domain; A view of the Town of Boston in New England and British ships of war landing their troops, 1768 by Paul Revere. Public domain.

The Fall of the Bastille

Storming of the Bastille

The Bastille has long served as a symbol of a ruthless King Louis XVI oppressing his hapless and demoralized subjects. The wretchedness of this royal prison before the French Revolution is perhaps best depicted by Charles Dickens in his epic novel A Tale of Two Cities, in which the upstanding Doctor Manette is incarcerated in the Bastille in 1757 and left to rot in solitude as “Prisoner 105, North Tower,” maintaining a lifeline to sanity only by cobbling shoes. 


The roster of prison inmates on July 14, 1789 was of a quite different pedigree. On that date the Bastille hosted but six inmates. (Some historical sources claim seven.) Two of them had been judged insane and another was the son of a wealthy chevalier who had him tossed in there as punishment for disobedience.

No, it was not revenge to save the oppressed and the wrongfully accused that inflamed a Parisian mob to take to the streets that fateful July day. Citizens of France had finally reached a tipping point after too many months of (a) economic bankruptcy brought on by excessive government spending on the American Revolution and revenge against England, (b) crop failures brought on by miserable winter-like weather that kept its icy grip on French wheat fields deep into the months of spring, and (c) moral bankruptcy brought on by a corpulent and incompetent king, his despised Austrian-born and free-spending queen known contemptuously as “Madame Deficit,” and a well-heeled and privileged aristocracy that remained utterly oblivious to the abject misery of 98 percent of the French population.

King Louis XVI

So what happened on that momentous day of July 14, 1789? Perhaps the question can best be answered by John Paul Jones in a conversation with Richard Cutler as profiled in chapter 13 of For Love of Country, Volume II of the Cutler Family Chronicles. Richard was in Paris on his return voyage to Boston to confer with his former naval commander after he, Richard, had sailed from Algiers where he had tried to ransom his brother Caleb and his shipmates being held there as prisoners in conditions far worse than anything suffered in the Bastille. President Washington had recently appointed Jones as special envoy to the Barbary States to negotiate the release of all American sailors being detained by the Barbary regencies. Richard had information about North Africa that he and Thomas Jefferson, American ambassador to France, thought Jones would find useful in his upcoming mission.  

            “What exactly do you know about what happened at the Bastille?”

            Richard shrugged. “Not a lot, really. A thousand people marched to the prison and demanded that the garrison surrender. They were armed with muskets and cannon, taken from an army arsenal. The Invalids Hospital, as I recall. Their goal, they claimed, was to free the prisoners inside. But according to General Lafayette; what they really wanted was to destroy this symbol of royal authority and seize the powder inside. The prisoners were actually of minor importance.”

            “Lafayette is correct. Go on.”

            “At first, the governor of the prison refused to surrender. He ordered his troops to fire on the crowd. Some people were killed. He sent word to the mob that he would blow up the Bastille himself if they didn’t disperse. Since something close to twenty thousand pounds of powder was stored inside (editor’s note: the most powder stored anywhere in France), that was no small threat.”

            “That’s not exactly how it happened. Yes, the governor did order his men to fire, but into the air, over the heads of the crowd. He wanted to scare them, to bring them to their senses. And yes, the governor did threaten to blow up the Bastille, but only if the mob refused to accept his terms of surrender -- which basically were to allow his garrison to leave the prison unharmed. He was simply trying to defuse the situation, avoid further bloodshed on both sides, and guarantee the safety of his soldiers. He realized he couldn’t defend the Bastille with a hundred aging veterans and a few Swiss guards dispatched from Versailles. He lost all hope when three hundred Gardes Françaises defected from the regular army and marched into Paris to join the ranks of the mob. But the governor had his honor to consider.”

            “What happened next?” Richard asked, caught up in the telling and seeing no point in recounting events that Jones obviously knew far better than he.

            “When a leader of the mob – a man named Aubriot -- refused the governor’s terms, the mob stormed into the outer courtyard, which was undefended, and cut the chains on the drawbridge leading into the inner yard.  When they did that, the garrison opened fire. Many people were killed, which only served to inflame the mob further. They stormed inside in ever greater numbers until the governor finally was forced to surrender. When he did, he and his officers were seized and dragged off to la place de Grève, a spot where traitors and criminals have traditionally been executed. He was defiant to the end. He was even able to free himself long enough to kick one of his captors in the balls and spit in Aubriot’s face. The mob pounced on him like a pack of dogs, after that.  They tore at his body and cut into his neck with a dull knife. As his lifeblood flowed out of him, he managed to gurgle out: Vive le roi!  They cut off his head, impaled it on a pike, and paraded it through the city streets followed by rioters shouting,  ‘Death to all aristocrats!’”

The French Revolution was under way, and many more years of suffering and bloodshed would elapse before the citizens of France – high-brow and low-brow alike -- would find any sort of reprieve.

(As a footnote to history, John Paul Jones never did serve as special envoy to the Barbary States. He died in Paris not long after the fall of the Bastille.)

Photo credits: Storming of the Bastille and arrest of the Governor M. de Launay, July 14, 1789, public domain; Louis XVI in Coronation Robes, public domain.