tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36845117791970885492024-02-19T19:39:15.281-06:00The Cutler Family ChroniclesWilliam C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-35855535114886589132013-06-17T20:29:00.002-05:002013-06-17T20:29:49.071-05:00The Birth of a Nation: Haiti<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98krFBDVG9r2bLYJjauq_GUy-48dWhCXt-sw6wLXQNZzsrb9_wWGvxlH-qbRP0eRBZIDIpqSb5hn0YqOS3G2BFPrnjunbyIzlXD0qQKUmv2-jDf1GiGxZilmhp5xPY8pw1TiIX1Y2DXYU/s1600/Saint-Domingue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98krFBDVG9r2bLYJjauq_GUy-48dWhCXt-sw6wLXQNZzsrb9_wWGvxlH-qbRP0eRBZIDIpqSb5hn0YqOS3G2BFPrnjunbyIzlXD0qQKUmv2-jDf1GiGxZilmhp5xPY8pw1TiIX1Y2DXYU/s1600/Saint-Domingue.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Flag of Saint-Domingue</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The birth of a nation rarely comes easily or painlessly. Certainly our Founding Fathers understood that only through extreme sacrifice, sorrow and suffering could America hope to gain its independence from Great Britain. But at least to them the central issues of the conflict were clearly defined. But that was hardly the case in Haiti, or Saint-Domingue as it was originally called. Rarely in the course of human events has there been such a complexity of overlapping personal and national interests conspiring against each other and competing with each other.<br />
<br />
In chapter seven of <b>The Power and the Glory</b>, Lt. Richard Cutler is aboard the newly minted frigate USS Constellation as she sails south from Baltimore to the West Indies. The sailing orders of her commander, Capt. Thomas Truxtun, are to engage the French Navy and harass French military bases in the Indies in cooperation with the Royal Navy. He also has secret orders to gather intelligence about a civil war that has erupted on Saint-Domingue. Truxtun brings into his confidence Lieutenant Cutler and Lt. James Carter, captain of Marines. He starts off the conversation by asking the two lieutenants what they know about Saint-Domingue. Richard knows a little, since his family owns a sugar cane plantation on Barbados. He says to his captain:<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPutmDfGYQamYZqpqkSU8TbCi9Fk58wAGH_tAacSgGWwqiheuj9NMqtVU0f5dQSvpJtv0jx04V8KcZvf53VPb5aKlCDNqZJWUQIKrmCKwxB6U6tLNnpiNP1JX0sGQgog0vdPuLbTBYmu2/s1600/Thomas_Truxtun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPutmDfGYQamYZqpqkSU8TbCi9Fk58wAGH_tAacSgGWwqiheuj9NMqtVU0f5dQSvpJtv0jx04V8KcZvf53VPb5aKlCDNqZJWUQIKrmCKwxB6U6tLNnpiNP1JX0sGQgog0vdPuLbTBYmu2/s200/Thomas_Truxtun.jpg" width="167" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Captain Thomas Truxton</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“As I understand it, sir, Saint-Domingue is a French colony on the western half of the island of Hispaniola, a hodge-podge of British, French and Spanish interests. Columbus was first to plant a flag there and thus claimed the entire island for Spain. That claim notwithstanding, French buccaneers soon settled on the western third of the island, since the Spanish preferred the eastern parts where the soil is richer. Over the years the French built up quite an imposing presence on Saint-Domingue. The British were late-comers, motivated, I suspect, by the quality of the coffee and cane fields. Until a few years ago they had no legal standing on Hispaniola. That changed when local slaves rose up and began slaughtering their white masters, French and Spanish alike. The Spanish invited the British in to help restore order on the island and at the same time drive out the French. I heard rumors that there was an agreement between the British and Spanish to divide the colony between them once the French were ousted.”</blockquote>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQSQiJIQ1UAKn6jSp0fGakSph_dttvmkUpA4JENQFt2Fqk4OkU-_XXncPi26j_C9vll_Fp95I7-54sDwvZuwhZq74TqrazQBDid_FoLOYdk90qw9c5EON4cLK_wiKETyy1mJ4gFIYCPY14/s1600/Toussaint_Louverture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQSQiJIQ1UAKn6jSp0fGakSph_dttvmkUpA4JENQFt2Fqk4OkU-_XXncPi26j_C9vll_Fp95I7-54sDwvZuwhZq74TqrazQBDid_FoLOYdk90qw9c5EON4cLK_wiKETyy1mJ4gFIYCPY14/s200/Toussaint_Louverture.jpg" width="134" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Toussaint L’Ouverture</i></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Truxtun then informs the lieutenants that the two opposing armies in the civil war are let by Toussaint L’Ouverture and a man named André Rigaud. L’Ouverture was a former African slave whose benevolent master allowed him to learn several languages on his own. He also learned, on his own, military arts and history, his favorite book being Caesar’s Gallic Wars—in Latin. At first Toussaint had sided with the Spanish, but that loyalty proved to be ephemeral. As Truxtun explains:<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZhnyNcKcctn-0NnXHknv1FEpT2N1n_C-PoKxonTNN3wekm5_W0cGqPXCU9yDTYp8R-TfmCoD3UJ55-olOFHF2reUl2uq0oAO0mZxy6La6Oo3jvPGmrIj-pdfjUnvjWOTQ8MH_BGeBPhtQ/s1600/Andre%CC%81_Rigaud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZhnyNcKcctn-0NnXHknv1FEpT2N1n_C-PoKxonTNN3wekm5_W0cGqPXCU9yDTYp8R-TfmCoD3UJ55-olOFHF2reUl2uq0oAO0mZxy6La6Oo3jvPGmrIj-pdfjUnvjWOTQ8MH_BGeBPhtQ/s200/Andre%CC%81_Rigaud.jpg" width="142" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>André Rigaud</i></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span> “Early in ’94 Toussaint switched sides and declared himself for France. Exactly why, no one knows for certain. But since France abolished slavery in the Indies, it’s a fair guess he felt he owed allegiance to France. The Spanish also had promised freedom to their slaves but were slow to act on that promise. Great Britain -- Spain’s ally at the time as Mr. Cutler correctly informs us – has in fact reinstated slavery in the areas of Hispaniola it controls. The British fear, quite legitimately in my view, that emancipation on one island will encourage slave rebellions on other islands.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
He allowed a moment for that information to sink in. “What you said a moment ago, Mr. Cutler, is accurate. Hispaniola is indeed a hodge-podge of foreign interests, and those interests have little regard for local citizenry. On Saint-Domingue there are – I should say, were -- approximately thirty thousand whites: government administrators, artisans, shop-keepers, and the like. Most of these people supported the French Republic. Others, the wealthier ones – the planters, the so-called grand blancs -- remained loyal to the Bourbon king, the exiled Louis XVII. When rebellion broke out, these royalists sided with the Spanish and British, hoping, I suppose, to somehow come out of all of this with the status quo intact. When that effort failed and the slaughter began anew, the grand blancs fled the colony right behind the petit blancs. Many of these refugees escaped to Cuba, taking with them what slaves they could and their experience in sugar production. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“There’s more, I’m afraid. Also on Saint-Domingue are thirty thousand so-called gens de couleur, a rather elegant term for those citizens of mixed European and African descent. They are the offspring of white planters and their Negro mistresses who lived together in an odd form of common-law marriage that allows their offspring to inherit property. These people – mulattoes, you and I would call them -- are recognized as citizens of France. They form an elite group on the island. So elite in fact, that they consider themselves superior to both blacks and whites. </blockquote>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“The third group on the island -- by far the largest at more than 400,000 strong – consists of former black slaves. Most of these slaves came to Saint-Domingue in chains from the west coast of Africa. I need not describe to you the misery of their lives. So it should be easy to understand why they call Toussaint ‘Father Toussaint’ and look upon him as a saint or savior-- which to them, of course, he is. Thousands have flocked to his banner.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Against whom? The French?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Nor at all, Mr. Carter. Have you not been listening?” Truxtun’s tone conveyed more humor than reprimand. “As I told you, almost all whites in the colony have fled the island. Those who remain are connected in some way to the government or military. No, L’Ouverture is fighting the gens de couleur, the mulatto army led by André Rigaud, the militant extremist I mentioned earlier. Rigaud also knows a thing or two about military affairs--enough to conquer and control what amounts to a semi-autonomous state on the southern regions of Saint-Domingue. His objectives go far beyond that, however. He seeks what L’Ouverture seeks, to conquer the entire island of Hispaniola. L’Ouverture, it would seem, has a better chance of succeeding, since his army is considerably larger than Rigaud’s. That’s the point to remember. Two years ago L’Ouverture thwarted Rigaud’s attempt to assassinate the French governor of the colony, a general named Laveaux. As a reward for saving his life, Laveaux appointed L’Ouverture lieutenant-governor of Saint-Domingue and commander-in-chief of French forces on the island. Have I confused you yet?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Richard scratched the nape of his neck. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“You’ve done a thorough job of confusing me, sir. This is all quite interesting, but if I may, what does it have to do with Lieutenant Carter and me?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“A great deal, Mr. Cutler, as I am about to tell you. Before I do, however, you should also know that agents acting on behalf of Toussaint L’Ouverture has been in secret contact with Mr. Adams, our president.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
That information caused both lieutenants to blink. Then Truxtun delivered a thunder blow. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Toussaint has formally requested our government to lift our embargo on shipments to Saint-Domingue. He has also requested military supplies and food for his army. In exchange for our support, he has pledged to Mr. Adams that he will deny France the use of Saint-Domingue as a naval base in the West Indies.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Richard cast James Carter a stupefied look. Carter returned it with equal incredulity. Both men struggled to make sense of a labyrinth of double-dealing that seemed to expand in size and complexity with each sentence Truxtun uttered. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Captain,” Richard managed, “how can that be? Did you not say a moment ago that Toussaint L’Ouverture now commands French forces on Saint Domingue?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“I said exactly that. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Forgive me, sir, but how can the commander of French forces deny France the use of a naval base he is pledged to maintain and defend? </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Truxtun’s mouth twisted </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“I appreciate the difficulty you are having with this, Mr. Cutler. If it’s any consolation, I asked my superiors the same questions you and Mr. Carter are asking me. What you need to understand is that L’Ouverture’s true loyalty lies not with France, but with the former black slaves. He trusts no one: you, me, or anyone, foreigner or mulatto. But he will treat with you and me and with anyone else he believes can help him realize his ultimate objective.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Which is?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“An independent nation ruled by freed black slaves.”</blockquote>
As it turns out, Truxtun was just getting warmed up. And considerably more mind-boggling revelations await the Americans during a meeting with Adm. Sir Hyde Parker at the British naval base at Port Royal, Jamaica. Ultimately, Toussaint L’Ouverture would realize his dream of an independent Haiti, in large part due to substantial American aid transported to Saint-Domingue through yet another strange twist in the interpretation of international law. But he would not live to see his dream fulfilled. Toussaint was captured by the French and sent to languish in a French prison, there to die on April 17, 1803. Later that year his most trusted lieutenant, Jean-Jacques Dessalines, finally defeated the last French army on the island, having earlier defeated the army of André Rigaud with help from the U.S. Navy.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><i>Photo Credits [public domain]: Coat of arms of Haiti; Thomas Truxtun, painted in 1817 by Bass Otis; General Toussaint Louverture, pictured here on a Haitian banknote; André Rigaud.</i></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-82974167397754818452013-05-28T10:29:00.003-05:002013-05-28T10:29:21.447-05:00Hingham, Massachusetts and the Boston Harbor Islands<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3r_ZP65sD3visoVX4Qq5TraprfWMy4FueDpjsvS6LlpB7fQZsaHZWJ01SB6wJ96l69BkL5bsGHNQ_YKcLhDhJXKjJVR4A_PEZs71oNRQuPpubwUYDjpLwKqcVprH77dh7twlOVEpQQTnf/s1600/Hingham_Harbor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3r_ZP65sD3visoVX4Qq5TraprfWMy4FueDpjsvS6LlpB7fQZsaHZWJ01SB6wJ96l69BkL5bsGHNQ_YKcLhDhJXKjJVR4A_PEZs71oNRQuPpubwUYDjpLwKqcVprH77dh7twlOVEpQQTnf/s320/Hingham_Harbor.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Hingham, Massachusetts</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As the author of the Cutler Family Chronicles, I had no trouble selecting Hingham as the home town of the American branch of the Cutler Family. (The English branch hails from Fareham, England and the West Indian island of Barbados.) Hingham was where my family and I lived for sixteen years and where we still have a wealth of friends and memories. While a resident there I served on a publishing committee offering oversight and insight to an official history of the town entitled<b> Not All Is Changed</b>. Much of what I learned during the course of that initiative is scattered throughout the volumes of the Chronicles, lending what I trust is a sense of authenticity to the descriptions and history of a New England seaside village.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXmfWEZcEQJmm8WYVBKdM_yHUTdQNeOgN1EZ0-TgYuwfyklsAR81Z6gOyhUJR6hiqRw7P17YLvzp0fHn9I-Xia38z-j5d78ZTdqUj5x1vv7ni0fbGQPPSLg7wxNlR1xpTOY8J3VbHAH7u/s1600/OldShip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXmfWEZcEQJmm8WYVBKdM_yHUTdQNeOgN1EZ0-TgYuwfyklsAR81Z6gOyhUJR6hiqRw7P17YLvzp0fHn9I-Xia38z-j5d78ZTdqUj5x1vv7ni0fbGQPPSLg7wxNlR1xpTOY8J3VbHAH7u/s200/OldShip.jpg" width="120" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Old Ship Church</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Founded in 1633 as Bare Cove, Hingham was incorporated in 1635 under its new name. Many of the early settlers—including Samuel Lincoln, an ancestor of President Abraham Lincoln—fled from Hingham, England to America in search of religious freedom. In 1681, they built a meeting house on lower Main Street in the shape of an upside-down ship’s lull. That building stands today as Old Ship's Church and is the oldest continuously used house of worship in America. It is also the only remaining Puritan meeting house in New England.<br />
<br />
At the outbreak of rebellion in 1775, many residents of Hingham were Tories, that is, they remained loyal to England. However, British blunders and excessive punishments for perceived offenses against the Crown persuaded most Hingham Tories to turn coat and become patriots. In the Cutler family, eldest son Will Cutler was seized by the British off Marblehead and dragged off his family’s merchant brig to serve in the Royal Navy. Soon thereafter, as the mandated sentence for striking a ship’s officer, he was whipped to shreds and then hanged from a larboard yardarm. When contrite British authorities in Boston delivered Will’s tortured body to his father, there was no longer any doubt as to where Cutler loyalties would henceforth lie. Will’s younger brother Richard spends the remaining years of the war in a personal quest for revenge.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLTBWEJa3N8E-rqwKfxXu0CdpHNHgM9viMin8_QQoW2zmABuxT_42hSUjlu07WsHRtppI0bcdNI1zvDEJNH4Mg7R8jvHI4w9-X2fWwBx7c5SKrSxBIROD4C-0eokh2g0aGJ0KXmviJyP-F/s1600/Gen_Benjamin_Lincoln.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLTBWEJa3N8E-rqwKfxXu0CdpHNHgM9viMin8_QQoW2zmABuxT_42hSUjlu07WsHRtppI0bcdNI1zvDEJNH4Mg7R8jvHI4w9-X2fWwBx7c5SKrSxBIROD4C-0eokh2g0aGJ0KXmviJyP-F/s200/Gen_Benjamin_Lincoln.jpg" width="166" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Gen. Benjamin Lincoln</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
During the Revolutionary War (or the war with England, as it was then called), Hingham saw little of the war’s brutal devastations. In fact, not long after the British garrison evacuated Boston on March 17, 1776, the theater of war shifted to the southern states, thus sparing most of New England from the rebellion’s fury. Hingham’s main claim to fame in the conflict comes from one of its prominent citizens, Brig. Gen. Benjamin Lincoln. Lincoln was one of General Washington’s best and most trusted senior officers. At the Battle of Yorktown, he served as Washington’s second-in-command and it was he who accepted Lord Cornwallis’s sword of surrender.<br />
<br />
Because the South Shore town of Hingham is located only about an hour’s sail from Boston (assuming fair winds), in early colonial times it became an important commercial center, much like Salem on Boston’s North Shore. In the Chronicles, the Cutler family maintains a small shipping office in Hingham and a much larger one on Boston’s Long Wharf, from where it manages its global commercial interests. Sailing back and forth by boat was rarely a challenge, courtesy of the thirty-four islands (six of which are in Hingham Bay or Hingham Harbor) that, combined with the long, narrow Nantasket peninsula, provide a protective barrier for the eastern and southern extremities of greater Boston Harbor. Today, these jewels of islands offer a tourist’s dream of hiking trails, beaches and historic forts, and are easily accessible by ferries and shuttle boars operating out of Boston, Hingham and other coastal communities.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRgK0ERBjlSYVCx5nzpzuErtf_GweFvHwj0UdA7BhnPZIx2W7HF-QG8lrDBLkoXHa37SGro_sl6_MvIybGUz9ZGqRvhBy4_UZqwyCDW0J9Cs8S3EONNVuSMZSEw_Q_jd3wibjKWBY7W7U/s1600/Worlds_End.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRgK0ERBjlSYVCx5nzpzuErtf_GweFvHwj0UdA7BhnPZIx2W7HF-QG8lrDBLkoXHa37SGro_sl6_MvIybGUz9ZGqRvhBy4_UZqwyCDW0J9Cs8S3EONNVuSMZSEw_Q_jd3wibjKWBY7W7U/s320/Worlds_End.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>World's End</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A visit to these islands is highly recommended. So is a visit to Hingham and its scenic South Shore neighbors of Cohasset, Hull, Scituate, Duxbury and Plymouth. When in Hingham, be sure to stop by World’s End, a 250-acre peninsula jutting into Hingham Bay that offers spectacular views of sea and fields and groves of trees. What is now a state park and conservation area was designed in part by Frederick Law Olmstead, the landscape architect who designed New York’s Central Park. In 1945, World’s End was considered as a site for the headquarters of the newly formed United Nations.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #666666;">Photo credits [all public domain]: Old Ship Church, 19th Century woodcut by Hosea Sprague; General Benjamin Lincoln, painted by Charles Willson Peale; World's End, Hingham, Massachusetts, USA. Landscaped by Frederick Law Olmsted.</span></i><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-86285179508597409882013-04-14T11:43:00.000-05:002013-04-14T11:43:17.602-05:00Early American Lighthouses<br />
<b>The Cutler Family Chronicles</b> is a six-book series that profiles the American perspective during the Age of Sail. Because the Cutler family is engaged in overseas commerce—as well as in the fledgling U.S. Navy—much of the action takes place at sea. Lighthouses therefore play a subtle yet important role in these novels.<br />
<br />
Below is a brief profile of the lighthouses that appear in them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBz8PvqNWUvOjSnWLyFA_VL_I-aysqApn0JWGShdt07yyhWbSG0Z7LcO1e_8DrhJWyhVpR0mg9ZApCUr_ELyckHbsdUFMZAz8qRg3DhhBjXMZ_JPvSqWJ-6mFovEe-EKaDX7U_AXpgwzV0/s1600/BostonLight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBz8PvqNWUvOjSnWLyFA_VL_I-aysqApn0JWGShdt07yyhWbSG0Z7LcO1e_8DrhJWyhVpR0mg9ZApCUr_ELyckHbsdUFMZAz8qRg3DhhBjXMZ_JPvSqWJ-6mFovEe-EKaDX7U_AXpgwzV0/s320/BostonLight.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b>BOSTON LIGHT</b><br />
<br />
Constructed on Little Brewster Island at the entrance to Boston Harbor, Boston Light appears in several volumes of the Chronicles beginning with the first volume, <b>A Matter of Honor</b>, since Boston was home port to the Cutler family. First built in 1716--and the first lighthouse in the colonies--it was rebuilt in 1783 after the British blew it up as they evacuated Boston in March of 1776. It now stands at 98 feet and is the second oldest working lighthouse in the United States (after Sandy Hook Lighthouse in New Jersey).<br />
<br />
In August of 1803, Boston Light and Cape Cod Light at Truro are the last glimpses of Massachusetts available to Midshipman James Cutler as USS Constitution sails eastward into the night toward the Barbary Coast of North Africa (as depicted in <b>A Call to Arms</b>).<br />
<br />
As an interesting side-note, Boston Light was staffed and maintained by the United States Coast Guard until 1998, at which time it became fully automated. It was the last lighthouse in America to employ and house a keeper and his family on site.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxStNLmy6FGy-4gehIHxa_4RBlH08yJ-KSZTC3HKzjzvE0sZV5vSc6L7kpCH-VMbqbAXv42vVVjcKjoEcibnidWshDmpf1BqD8YgMElwHXyjJzuV9_OwjGWcUyToJ0d6UsZbLs1F5-lxc/s1600/Portland-Head.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxStNLmy6FGy-4gehIHxa_4RBlH08yJ-KSZTC3HKzjzvE0sZV5vSc6L7kpCH-VMbqbAXv42vVVjcKjoEcibnidWshDmpf1BqD8YgMElwHXyjJzuV9_OwjGWcUyToJ0d6UsZbLs1F5-lxc/s200/Portland-Head.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<b>PORTLAND LIGHT</b><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Richard (Cutler) was seated at his desk, but he had turned his chair around and was facing aft with his feet up on the narrow crimson-cushioned settee running athwartship afore the stern window (of his family’s double topsail schooner, Falcon). That window was open, and Richard appeared to be looking out to southwestward, toward the town of Cape Elizabeth, where a massive structure clearly defined as the base of a lighthouse stood on a far-off promontory known locally as ‘the Neck’. </blockquote>
This paragraph appears in chapter 4 of <b>For Love of Country</b>. It describes the beginnings of what was to become Portland Light, a project begun in 1787 at the directive of George Washington and completed in 1791.<br />
<br />
Standing at a height of 101 feet, it is the oldest lighthouse in Maine (until 1820, a part of Massachusetts). Like most lighthouses of the period, it was conical in shape and used whale oil lamps for illumination.<br />
<br />
<b>SANDY POINT LLIGHT</b><br />
<br />
Referred to today at Great Point Light or Nantucket Light, Sandy Point Lighthouse was a wooden tower constructed in 1784 at the end of a seven-mile spit of sand on the northerly extreme of Nantucket Island. Standing guard near the waters where Nantucket Sound and the Atlantic Ocean converge—and where treacherous shoals lurk—Sandy Point Light served as a lifeline to mariners of all states and nations, including whalers returning from the Pacific and those aboard the Cutler sloop Elizabeth battling a fierce winter gale following an encounter with a French privateer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCinKeFe_yrOIfT9aK0kTSaYrOHNySQR2xowRUWnC8j2ysn14lAGRhyHk80FxHggAhZStj0sEdh8FoWzRlccDuA2muqtxXhoSCQevIvKHFopXl5eLGdmEO2rCrwr8_UxbX_u8HLZM7KNaj/s1600/Old_Cape_Henry_Light_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCinKeFe_yrOIfT9aK0kTSaYrOHNySQR2xowRUWnC8j2ysn14lAGRhyHk80FxHggAhZStj0sEdh8FoWzRlccDuA2muqtxXhoSCQevIvKHFopXl5eLGdmEO2rCrwr8_UxbX_u8HLZM7KNaj/s200/Old_Cape_Henry_Light_.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<b>CAPE HENRY LIGHTHOUSE</b><br />
<br />
Designed by the famous New York architect John McComb, the Cape Henry Lighthouse on Virginia Beach has stood sentinel at the entry-way of Chesapeake Bay, protecting commercial traffic coming in and out of the bay as well as American privateers slipping in and out of the Chesapeake during the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812 to wreak havoc on British shipping. The Chesapeake became an important destination for the Cutler family after it opened a second shipping office in Baltimore to serve the rapidly growing interior of the United States, In <b>The Power and the Glory</b>, Richard Cutler sails from Boston to Baltimore to meet with Capt, Thomas Truxtun, with whom he serves as second lieutenant in USS Constellation during the Quasi War with France,<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh58Oi4EXS5NviZOMs10l2bJf5XRnyEZpAw5QKk1r_uqeo7u85Fh6uTpdx6OGlBY9NPrtfxqX7OPg6C7JltUeoITG6ZCD9rXbOZG41j05BWEtgqRgX-LFM72HZdXzDDGUktnob392u4C0hG/s1600/Hatteras.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh58Oi4EXS5NviZOMs10l2bJf5XRnyEZpAw5QKk1r_uqeo7u85Fh6uTpdx6OGlBY9NPrtfxqX7OPg6C7JltUeoITG6ZCD9rXbOZG41j05BWEtgqRgX-LFM72HZdXzDDGUktnob392u4C0hG/s200/Hatteras.jpg" width="139" /></a></div>
<b>HATTERAS LIGHT</b><br />
<br />
On July 10, 1797 Congress appropriated $44,000 for the construction of two lighthouses on the coast of North Carolina: one to be built on Hatteras Island and the other in the harbor of Ocracoke a few miles south.<br />
<br />
Hatteras Light is among the more important lighthouses in the United States since it is located near the infamous Diamond Shoals, more ominously referred to as “the graveyard of the Atlantic,” It is here where the cold waters of the south-bound Labrador Current clash with the warm waters of the north-bound Gulf Stream, creating chaos amid a large area of sandbars and shoals extending fourteen miles out to sea.<br />
<br />
In fair weather, the 112-foot high lighthouse can be seen by mariners eighteen miles offshore, a blessing that no doubt has saved countless lives over the years.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZgoz3h7C0YiaScLqE1c_edRJd3PE1vTfI18Q4dn2-M9MaXKJLIccqKkLjaHlADa9sTliKcJqkmRR0_2UObCZNXyNPjNK1iDDqmv_VfwPVGsE5UYdSY9CaaUr9uUPsuM4Hi3BH87LFh56C/s1600/Tybee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZgoz3h7C0YiaScLqE1c_edRJd3PE1vTfI18Q4dn2-M9MaXKJLIccqKkLjaHlADa9sTliKcJqkmRR0_2UObCZNXyNPjNK1iDDqmv_VfwPVGsE5UYdSY9CaaUr9uUPsuM4Hi3BH87LFh56C/s200/Tybee.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<b>TYBEE ISLAND LIGHTHOUSE</b><br />
<br />
Located on Tybee Island at the mouth of the Savannah River, the first rendition of Tybee Island Lighthouse was completed in 1736 at the directive of Gen. James Ogelthorpe, governor and founder of the colony of Georgia. At the time, at 90 feet in height, it was the tallest structure in colonial America,<br />
<br />
As witnessed by Richard and Katherine Cutler (in <b>How Dark the Night</b>, to be released by the Naval Institute Press in October) after a run-in with the notorious pirate Jean Lafitte in New Orleans:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Off to the east of the city was yet another beacon of civilization: a lighthouse on what the sloop’s master identified as Tybee Island. Tybee Light, originally constructed in 1736, was the first lighthouse to grace these southern American waters. It had been destroyed by fire and rebuilt twice, Richard recalled reading in a maritime journal, and today rose one hundred feet from its island base. To Richard and the others sailing with him across the eighty-five miles separating Sea Island from Savannah, the gradual emergence of Tybee Light on the northern horizon had been a most welcome sight. </blockquote>
<i><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #444444;">Photo credits [all public domain]: Morning Off Boston Light by Clement Drew, 1879; Portland Head Light Station, Cape Elizabeth, Maine, U.S.A.; 1995 photograph of the first Cape Henry Light; The famous lighthouse on Cape Hatteras, 2006; Historic Tybee Island Light Station, taken November 2004.</span></i><br />
<br />
William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-45137276091998703432013-03-05T06:32:00.000-06:002013-03-05T06:32:24.561-06:00Ingenious Escape from Old Mill Prison<br />
During the Revolutionary War there were two prisons in England that confined captured enemy sailors. One was Forton Prison in Portsmouth and the other was Old Mill Prison in Plymouth.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFM0R7do8G0EXhpTdvLz34YXOVlsjSEloJIz2NoTWbOW0R7lmXJUNJbBOrYCIGO_fDIKHA21E3jTnzg3KBMDtmo-RawJ45se9pWXIVRQneLUu1X7cRr7k5VJ-9zrd4jLmVNGOustJLxv4J/s1600/mill-prison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFM0R7do8G0EXhpTdvLz34YXOVlsjSEloJIz2NoTWbOW0R7lmXJUNJbBOrYCIGO_fDIKHA21E3jTnzg3KBMDtmo-RawJ45se9pWXIVRQneLUu1X7cRr7k5VJ-9zrd4jLmVNGOustJLxv4J/s400/mill-prison.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Old Mill Prison</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
At the end of Part I of <b>A Matter of Honor</b>, protagonist Richard Cutler is taken prisoner after a raid on the English seaport of Whitehaven led by Capt. John Paul Jones (the subject of an earlier blog). Richard and several other Americans are carted off to Old Mill Prison, to presumably wait out the war before being tried and hanged as traitors or pirates. (American sailors who fell into British hands were not treated as prisoners of war until after the Battle of Yorktown.) Old Mill was a massive structure with both an inner and outer wall. Within the inner wall were Long Prison, where Americans were held, and another prison across the compound to house French captives.<br />
<br />
Old Mill is described in part as follows:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The prison was more massive than he (Richard Cutler) had first imagined. Within the huge rectangular stone structure was another, smaller rectangle of identical construction and proportions, except that at its entrance was a wide-open wooden gate. Between the double walls was a grassy area encircling the entire inner yard. This yard was perhaps twenty feet in width to the east and west, thirty or thirty-five feet to the north and south. Near where Richard stood, between the two north walls, were two substantial stone buildings. One, Richard assumed by the guards posted at the entryway, was most likely the prison offices. The other looked to be a military barracks. Idling about in both the outer and inner yards was a large number of scruffy-looking men walking solo or in small groups.</blockquote>
Among those “scruffy-looking men” Richard would come to know in Old Mill are such future naval heroes (and future characters in the Cutler Family Chronicles) as Silas Talbot, Richard Dale, and Joshua Barney. Although these men and their compatriots had attempted many escapes, few had been successful. Outside the prison walls were legions of local citizens known as “Janners” who were awarded ₤5—a year’s salary for a farm hand—for every escaped prisoner they turned in to the Home Guard. A number of tunnels had been dug and an equal number had been unearthed by snooping prison guards and local militia.<br />
<br />
The captured American officers are mulling over their wretched state of affairs one evening after a dinner of land-snail stew. Another tunnel was under construction, this one heading north rather than to the east, which afforded the shortest way out and was the direction to which every tunnel to date had been attempted. The logic of digging to the north was that prison officials would not expect a tunnel to be dug underneath where they worked all day. Thus they would not think to look for one there.<br />
<br />
During the meeting Richard Cutler has a sudden notion. In alow but excited voice he tells his fellow inmates that the tunnel has already reached its destination even though it reaches barely beyond the inner wall. His fellow officers stare at him in bewilderment.<br />
<br />
What happens next is perhaps best conveyed in dialogue:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“This is nonsense!” Joshua Barney scoffed. “Richard, have you taken leave of your senses? What are you suggesting? That we dig just to the Outer Yard? Hell, boy, we can walk out there any time we want, the gate’s wide open ‘till nightfall. What about the outer wall? We can’t just walk out through the main gate, pretty as we please.” </blockquote>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpWe76GkVBC6YGCM3BKUqI5EjhLpX8vog3zJfz-VmbC2VMKriucDee6V3vvQ-zjzsSwm2NiXd2Y6a0EcvjQgST6sLctPJTN9T9UfFMKLbn9sSIzkXLI-lRB34msBN_I7O32ozBLl0H6Ssy/s1600/Barney.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpWe76GkVBC6YGCM3BKUqI5EjhLpX8vog3zJfz-VmbC2VMKriucDee6V3vvQ-zjzsSwm2NiXd2Y6a0EcvjQgST6sLctPJTN9T9UfFMKLbn9sSIzkXLI-lRB34msBN_I7O32ozBLl0H6Ssy/s200/Barney.jpg" width="158" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joshua Barney</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Richard grinned at him. “Yes we can, Joshua. Yes we can. Hear me out. Silas, how often do they rotate the guards out of here?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Every three months, from what we’ve observed.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Exactly. And how often do they rotate the officers?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Every six months.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Right. So when is the next time officers and guards are rotated out together? Most of them anyway.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Talbot gave that some thought. It was Russell who answered. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“The first of October, three weeks from now. </blockquote>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GkKvnMxHWQ079ngDYonXoPvb181TQ0WMrhUESwZFOHu8-YaF_GhLDtUTyfZB-SlRInYn2VNK00i-7YaF27X-04nXIEYQ5nKeFDo48xlsFrPffqwCx8ys37LDCd2lNL7FgvM-6lMeu-b0/s1600/Talbot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GkKvnMxHWQ079ngDYonXoPvb181TQ0WMrhUESwZFOHu8-YaF_GhLDtUTyfZB-SlRInYn2VNK00i-7YaF27X-04nXIEYQ5nKeFDo48xlsFrPffqwCx8ys37LDCd2lNL7FgvM-6lMeu-b0/s200/Talbot.jpg" width="158" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Silas Talbot</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Richard nodded. “That’s how I figure it.” His right hand was working in quick chopping motions. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“So on October second, we’ll have a new batch of officers in our midst, plus a fresh rotation of militia guards, most of whom, we can fairly presume, will be strangers to each other. On that one day, an officer could walk in or out of this prison, pretty as you please, as you put it, Joshua, based on one credential: his uniform. Do you agree?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The officers stared at Richard, digesting his train of thought. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“I think we can agree with that, Richard,” Talbot said, scratching his head. “But where are you leading us?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Agreen (Crabtree, a fellow midshipman and Richard’s close friend throughout the series) slapped his knee hard. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“I know where he’s leadin’ us, Silas! Jesus Christ, it’s so obvious we should all have thought of it, long ago. He’s leadin’ us into the Prison Office, the building right between the two gates where they keep the officers’ uniforms. Our tunnel’s headin’ straight for it. Come up through the floor at night, don those uniforms, hide out ‘til dawn, then walk out early before the real officers are awake. Bugger, but I’ll look good in a lieutenant’s uniform!” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
He beamed at Richard. Richard beamed back. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Talbot held up a hand in caution. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Steady on, lads. Steady on. Let’s consider this.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Searching for the weak links, Talbot and the other officers ran their minds down the chain of sequential steps that under Richard’s plan would take them from Long Prison under the inner wall, up into the Prison Office, and out through the main gate. They could identify none until Eleazar Johnston asked: “How many uniforms do we reckon are in there?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“I don’t know,” Richard confessed. “But there have to be quite a number. Every British officer is issued at least two uniforms in case one gets soiled.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“If we’re caught wearin’ those uniforms,” Barney pointed out, “sure as hell we’ll be hanged as spies.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Richard acknowledged that. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Perhaps, Joshua. But it’s a risk worth taking, don’t you think? Once we’re outside, we can get rid of the red dress coat. The rest of the uniform’s pretty much the same as standard Continental Navy issue.”<br />Barney pursed his lips reflectively. </blockquote>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Dp2671TM-KPLUfHQXO8xUwtKelyadybUD1Dg1dp0v5UJvVo1G10b0gZByi2E4DSvR7vam8pqpjKKmLKPduQVsTGT3VQ7mhCK58FkinP4M_6JTOHu7_VzvuPQPgKBwaBxNGhjUfbRvMO_/s1600/Richard-Dale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Dp2671TM-KPLUfHQXO8xUwtKelyadybUD1Dg1dp0v5UJvVo1G10b0gZByi2E4DSvR7vam8pqpjKKmLKPduQVsTGT3VQ7mhCK58FkinP4M_6JTOHu7_VzvuPQPgKBwaBxNGhjUfbRvMO_/s200/Richard-Dale.jpg" width="161" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Capt. Richard Dale</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“You’re overlooking something,” Richard Dale observed. “I grant you the sentries guarding the gate may be new, but so many officers leaving the compound so early in the morning would certainly arouse suspicion. They’d want to confirm everything with Cowdry (the prison warden) before opening the gate. Don’t forget, their ass would be on the line.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Discouraged agreement rumbled among the Americans. The weak link in the chain had apparently been identified. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Crabtree snapped his fingers. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“No, wait,” he exclaimed, rising to his feet. “We’ve been thinkin’ about this wrong. We don’t all need t’ be officers. Most of us can be what we are: prisoners. We only need a couple of us in uniform. We go in the buildin’ at night, through the tunnel, just as Richard said. When we come out the next mornin’, the prisoners are bound up, bein’ led out by the officers. For further interrogation on Yarmouth we tell the guards at the gate. On orders from Admiral Digby himself, we say. What sentry, first day at his new post, facin’ the prison brass, would challenge that?” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“He’s right,” Russell concurred, and everyone’s mood brightened considerably.</blockquote>
As a footnote to history, the plan as depicted above worked. The American officers made good their escape and made their way back to sea. Most of them went on to fight the British until the end of the war.<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-size: xx-small;">Photo Credits: The Old Mill Prison From a 19th-century illustration [public domain]; Sketch of en:Joshua Barney circa 1800 [public domain]; Engraved portrait of Silas Talbot, the second captain of the :USS Constitution [public domain]; Captain Richard Dale, USN [public domain].</span></i><br />
William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-51376520315055524552013-02-19T07:34:00.000-06:002013-02-19T07:34:00.710-06:00Horatio Nelson Speaks to the 21st Century?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipgRuXTFZg-B45A9hr2qrHsKFHPHp68j1ufm_VOrYbJmGhCMMiSvykCSBzQR-WAK8puzkOMeTSezjHmB6f5stTx12wWkAdPAv7Lgj6XQpDvYN1MRoAK3XVeSs5qObpbpio0FK0XX1-XT3e/s1600/Barbary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipgRuXTFZg-B45A9hr2qrHsKFHPHp68j1ufm_VOrYbJmGhCMMiSvykCSBzQR-WAK8puzkOMeTSezjHmB6f5stTx12wWkAdPAv7Lgj6XQpDvYN1MRoAK3XVeSs5qObpbpio0FK0XX1-XT3e/s320/Barbary.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Barbary Wars</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The novels of the Cutler Family Chronicles span the years 1774 to 1815 and have, as backdrops, the creation of the U.S. Navy and the emergence of the United States as an overseas commercial power during the Age of Sail.<br />
<br />
During the last fifteen years of this period the United States became inevitably embroiled in the Napoleonic Wars that were ravaging Europe. During America’s quasi-war with France in the late 1790s, and again during the First Barbary War in the early nineteenth century, Great Britain viewed the fledgling United States as an ally, either because we were fighting the same enemy – France – or because Britain and her overseas colonies desperately wanted to buy what America had to sell. Aside from exchanging private recognition signals with American warships and escorting American merchantmen through pirate-infested waters, the Royal Navy opened its bases in the West Indies and the Mediterranean to American naval vessels.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNSZ7f7fAT1locFs_URDSc2UeEP45Zy6BfOS3adrDfdIkrweLMf-jcxiKqTfdnVL7Z1CvuR7_IYBUFm4yzrY8YcfDroXVIHtwyoMzA1FL8PhIUfjMGoh1xkzX0YLN6DdqAHYPWjaMAQlC/s1600/HoratioNelson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNSZ7f7fAT1locFs_URDSc2UeEP45Zy6BfOS3adrDfdIkrweLMf-jcxiKqTfdnVL7Z1CvuR7_IYBUFm4yzrY8YcfDroXVIHtwyoMzA1FL8PhIUfjMGoh1xkzX0YLN6DdqAHYPWjaMAQlC/s1600/HoratioNelson.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Admiral Horatio Nelson</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The early years of the Napoleonic Wars were also the capstone years of England’s most revered naval hero: Horatio Nelson. Richard Cutler, the main protagonist in the Cutler Family Chronicles, comes to know Nelson primarily because his wife Katherine, a young woman born and raised in the shadow of English aristocracy, was once engaged to marry the dashing young post captain. Although Katherine never again sees Horatio after she weds Richard Cutler and sails to America, the two sea officers have several occasions to cross tacks with each other during the years preceding the epic sea battle off the southwest coast of Spain in 1805 that immortalized Nelson’s life. <br />
<br />
One such occasion (in the recently published <i><b>A Call to Arms</b></i>) is in November of 1803 prior to a grand fete hosted by Sir Alexander Ball, the British governor of Malta, at the island’s magnificent San Anton Palace. Adm. Horatio Lord Nelson, commander in chief of British forces in the Mediterranean, and Captain Richard Cutler, USN, are meeting in private before the gala affair begins. With them in the small but comfortably appointed room are Captain Jeremy Hardcastle, RN, Richard’s brother-n-law and Nelson’s life-long friend, and Agreen Crabtree, Richard’s first officer in USS Portsmouth. A story that Jeremy has to relate to Richard and Agreen follows an account by Agreen regarding an earlier encounter between Portsmouth and a Tripolitan corsair. After the corsair captain strikes his colors and surrenders his ship, he orders his gun crews to open fire on the American frigate as she is lowering away her boats, an act of cowardice and dishonor that kills a number of defenseless American sailors. Captain Cutler immediately orders all sail clapped on and chases after the corsair, fleeing for her life toward the safety of Tunis. Portsmouth overtakes the corsair and reduces her to matchwood.<br />
<br />
What Jeremy Hardcastle has to relate is historically accurate in detail, as is the gist of Nelson’s response to Agreen’s comment. (<i>Note: also historically accurate is the treachery of the corsair captain.</i>)<br />
<br />
We should listen carefully to what Nelson has to say.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“It started right here off Malta,” Jeremy explained. “For no apparent reason two Algerian corsairs attacked one of our sloops of war. The sloop managed to escape into Grand Harbor, and a frigate was dispatched to hunt down the two corsairs and sink them. Which she did. The dey of Algiers, a chap named Mustapha, was so enraged he ordered British citizens in Algiers imprisoned and their property confiscated. When Horatio learned of that, he led Victory and a squadron of seven frigates from Toulon to Algiers and immediately started bombarding the city. Within an hour, the dey sent out a boat to the flagship under a white flag. Horatio paid it no mind. He kept the guns hot until the outer wall of Algiers had collapsed and fires were burning within the city. Finally, the dey had himself rowed out to the flagship, pleading to Horatio and Allah for mercy. I can’t speak for Allah, but Horatio agreed on the condition that he release British citizens from prison, restore their possessions, and compensate them for their trouble. And on the condition that Mustapha promise never again to impugn England’s honor. Thus far, he has acted the angelic school boy, bowing and scraping before a stern school master. Is that a fair summation, Horatio?”<br />
“I daresay it is,” Nelson responded.<br />
“And I daresay the dey learned a hard lesson that day,” Agreen added, setting off a round of chuckles.<br />
“I agree with you, Agreen,” Nelson said gravely,” and I am not trying to be witty in saying that. Mustapha learned the same lesson as your corsair captain. And those with Western minds must learn it as well: that the only thing these Arab despots seem to understand is brute force. That is the only anecdote to their tactics. They use diplomacy as either a tool to get what they want or as a delaying tactic. That is one reason I would not have an Arab in my fleet, except as a prisoner.”</blockquote>
Putting aside for the moment the politically correct world in which we live, had the State Department heeded Nelson’s words more diligently, would the four Americans killed during the terrorist attack on Benghazi last September be alive today?<br />
<br />
I simply pose the question.William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-75152753259861200042013-01-21T19:08:00.002-06:002013-01-21T19:08:32.640-06:00The “Volcano Ship” USS Intrepid<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXvg3ZgnKS0mM38SWleQmoSZklB-p4DUCS5P_8J9DxJzi3eSFCmY4nbGKW9T1V-25R54R3EIv2eUnoC3_OLO4FoWuTJpMmtgkMWpdu7jJpt-MpQucujS1MD682pQA4gpWpF1m7Ud55YX7/s1600/Intrepid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXvg3ZgnKS0mM38SWleQmoSZklB-p4DUCS5P_8J9DxJzi3eSFCmY4nbGKW9T1V-25R54R3EIv2eUnoC3_OLO4FoWuTJpMmtgkMWpdu7jJpt-MpQucujS1MD682pQA4gpWpF1m7Ud55YX7/s320/Intrepid.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Destruction of Fire Ship Intrepid</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In late summer 1804 the war against Tripoli was not going well. True, the third U.S. naval squadron sent to the Mediterranean under the command of Commo. Edward Preble had twice assaulted the capital and destroyed a number of enemy batteries and gunboats. But despite Preble’s impressive efforts the fortress city still stood in defiance of the United States, and the bashaw (king) of Tripoli, who had initiated the war, remained contemptuous of U.S. naval strength. His corsair fleet remained largely intact in the harbor below his castle, and the 115 cannon in the city’s defenses remained trained on the American ships standing offshore, hardly touched by the withering broadsides of USS <i>Constitution</i> and the other ships in the squadron, including a number of bomb ketches on loan from the king of Sicily. <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_aMPbyw7GUmPnLkSDiclo3bTZEBu9xHaGvP3jUI9unzm5BRcuHj6wIoxPTi3rMLv2USaEVFurTnHv1WQwrb5jehKpZFighiTPa7ml65rBbRYP3PW4hVCohW8JIDhbBUdRwlnTidRTEJtV/s1600/EdwardPreble.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_aMPbyw7GUmPnLkSDiclo3bTZEBu9xHaGvP3jUI9unzm5BRcuHj6wIoxPTi3rMLv2USaEVFurTnHv1WQwrb5jehKpZFighiTPa7ml65rBbRYP3PW4hVCohW8JIDhbBUdRwlnTidRTEJtV/s1600/EdwardPreble.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Commodore Edward Preble</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Worse, Preble had received a dispatch from Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith with the unwelcome news that a fourth squadron was underway from Portsmouth, Virginia, under the command of Commo. Samuel Barron. Since Barron had seniority over Preble, Preble’s days in the Mediterranean were numbered. If he were to make a meaningful contribution to the successful conclusion of the war, he needed to act quickly. After mulling over his options he settled on a course that no one could have suspected, not even his loyal squadron commanders whom he referred to affectionately as “my boys.”<br />
<br />
What he decided to do was transform the captured ketch <i>Intrepid</i> into what he designated as a “volcano ship” – an extreme version of the more familiar term “fire ship.” If the ketch could steal in to Tripoli harbor under cover of night and a Mediterranean rig, reach the very walls of Tripoli and set off an explosion for the ages, in one bold stroke the entire pirate fleet could be destroyed and considerable damage done to the city itself.<br />
<br />
Every carpenter in the squadron was put to work planking up her magazine in the hold and loading it to the brim with five hundred barrels of powder, five tons in all. On the deck directly above the magazine, one hundred 13-inch shells and fifty 9-inch shells were carefully stacked within a rectangular wooden bin built to accommodate them. Under the watchful eye of the squadron commanders, two holes were drilled into the bulkhead of the magazine amidships. Into these were inserted gun barrels stuffed with fuses that were connected to a main fuse at the end. These two main fuses were connected on the outside to a shallow trough of powder that ran the length of the ketch on the starboard side forward to a scuttle near her bow and aft to her companionway.<br />
<br />
The train of powder could thus be fired from either the bow or the stern of the vessel. The length of the two main fuses was set to burn for eleven minutes before the main fuses set off the smaller fuses inside the gun barrels. The smaller fuses were timed to burn for four minutes before they ignited the powder in the magazine. Once the train of powder was lit, the thirteen Americans had fifteen minutes to get off <i>Intrepid</i> and board the pinnace and cutter being towed behind the ketch. The schooner <i>Nautilus</i> would be hove to close in to the reefs, to pick them up and convey them back to the flagship, escorted by the schooner <i>Vixen</i> and the brig of war <i>Syren</i>.<br />
<br />
Commodore Preble chose Lt. Richard Somers to command <i>Intrepid</i>. Every squadron commander had begged for the honor, but Somers got the nod. Joining him as volunteers were Midshipman Henry Wadsworth (Longfellow’s uncle), Midshipman Joseph Israel, and ten carefully selected American sailors.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQGGhwxlzkeEsuaRk8fa5oEMq57mSfcv3YoW0u7a6Nr9uYZ2ggEh61k70WX1pHc-5nyUijd6zv21R8nFEiC_ZZEhKm8cH2Wc8HS6xBbUPAkGf1v2a1h-YQidI0fsCNxaSucwFQbmaxBMK/s1600/LtRichardSomers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQGGhwxlzkeEsuaRk8fa5oEMq57mSfcv3YoW0u7a6Nr9uYZ2ggEh61k70WX1pHc-5nyUijd6zv21R8nFEiC_ZZEhKm8cH2Wc8HS6xBbUPAkGf1v2a1h-YQidI0fsCNxaSucwFQbmaxBMK/s200/LtRichardSomers.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Lt. Richard Sommers</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At eight o’clock in the evening of September 3, 1804, <i>Intrepid</i> sailed from the squadron standing several miles offshore from the city of Tripoli. She made it through the Western Passage into the harbor of Tripoli. Then, with a white blinding eruption of light and an ear-rupturing concussion that could be heard and felt well out to sea, she exploded – as it turned out, prematurely, before she reached the city walls. Why, no one is certain to this day. The most likely explanation is that <i>Intrepid</i> was approached by Tripolitan gunboats and Lieutenant Somers set off the charge himself. Earlier, aboard <i>Constitution</i>, he had vowed to do just that in such a circumstance, preferring death to the dishonor of surrendering and the disgrace of turning over vast quantities of munitions to the enemy. The twelve American heroes sailing with him understood that preference when they volunteered.<br />
<br />
Following is a scene from chapter 12 of <b><i>A Call to Arms</i></b>. It depicts an exchange between Commodore Preble and Lt. George Reed, acting captain of Nautilus. The morning after the explosion Preble had signaled <i>Nautilus</i> to come alongside the flagship and report.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #134f5c;">“Lieutenant Reed, what can you tell us?” Preble shouted through a speaking trumpet.<br /><br />Reed raised his own trumpet from the larboard railing of the schooner. All eyes aboard the flagship were riveted upon him. He hesitated as he delivered his reply, as if fearful that speaking aloud of such things would somehow cause them to become a reality.<br /><br />“Sir,” Reed reported, “we followed <i>Intrepid</i> until two or three minutes before the explosion…We thought she had reached her destination, but alas…she had not. From what we observed this morning…there has been little or no damage…either to Tripoli or to its navy. And sir…It is my sad duty to report…that Captain Somers and every member of his crew…have vanished.”<br /><br />“Repeat that, Lieutenant. And speak up, man! <i>Vanished</i>, you say?”<br /><br />“Yes sir,” Reed replied more distinctly. “Vanished. There is no indication either of the crew or the two boats. No indication whatsoever.”<br /><br />“So what you are telling me, Mr. Reed, is that the crew of <i>Intrepid </i>has either perished or been taken prisoner.”<br /><br />“Yes sir. We…I fear so, sir.”<br /><br />“Dear God, Henry…” (Midshipman Ralph) Izard whispered to himself, staring out blankly to the area where Intrepid had exploded. (Midshipman) Jamie (Cutler) placed a hand on his shoulder, as much to comfort himself as his friend. Both of them realized, as well as anyone, that not one of the thirteen Americans had been taken alive. Jamie felt the warm damp of tears in his eyes and tried, unsuccessfully, to blink them away.<br /><br />“Very well, Mr. Reed,” Preble shouted through the trumpet. “Please advise Mr. Smith and Mr. Stewart (captain of <i>Vixen</i> and <i>Syren</i>, respectively) to rejoin the squadron. You may continue to reconnoiter, but stay out of effective range of the shore batteries. We shall suffer no further casualties this day.”<br /><br />“Aye, aye, Captain.”<br /><br />It was, ironically, that very afternoon, as the squadron continued to reel from such a devastating loss of shipmates, that the topgallants of USS <i>President</i> and USS <i>Constellation</i> were sighted bearing down from the north. The Mediterranean campaign of Commodore Edward Preble, so full of promise, had come to an end.</span></blockquote>
<br />William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-34013411910344242782012-12-10T11:29:00.000-06:002012-12-10T11:29:03.734-06:00Navy Football vs. the Tides of History<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjavUEwBEqrme25HOCCo4ALaDcM5FQXFDi9gG9i7W5E6GKzNzDj7348WErf6yG5JlOxjMK5EmIe4jdH3qNwTbO0VlJK6KyhrKlvNZ_kvwNVjAKiWFCa_aBGl8mbbZOPEYlh_zLG_dUw8vgq/s1600/logos.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjavUEwBEqrme25HOCCo4ALaDcM5FQXFDi9gG9i7W5E6GKzNzDj7348WErf6yG5JlOxjMK5EmIe4jdH3qNwTbO0VlJK6KyhrKlvNZ_kvwNVjAKiWFCa_aBGl8mbbZOPEYlh_zLG_dUw8vgq/s1600/logos.png" /></a></div>
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?<br /><br />Below is an article that appeared in the publication <i>Proceedings</i> 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.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-U0qCnVFA_o1vXfWbkCTf-4PnUyOUUStBHpspKmi1FP3024peC3P2S053jLzh5iyZGNyICOUmINc81OqKV7N6WDqCWN5EZoqRq8f5LDLSVfZv4DWMs_t3MjEL3ihzqiYbcza4k-bjPtBA/s1600/610px-Charlie_Weis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-U0qCnVFA_o1vXfWbkCTf-4PnUyOUUStBHpspKmi1FP3024peC3P2S053jLzh5iyZGNyICOUmINc81OqKV7N6WDqCWN5EZoqRq8f5LDLSVfZv4DWMs_t3MjEL3ihzqiYbcza4k-bjPtBA/s200/610px-Charlie_Weis.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Charlie Weis, 2005 Notre Dame <br />football team coach</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Our Lady Queen of Class </b><br /><i>by Tom Cutler </i> <br /><br />Call me a sissy. Call me corny, out-dated, or whatever you think appropriate. But on Saturday, 12 November 2005, <i>I cried</i>. 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! <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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 <i>alma mater.</i> <br /><br />An article in <i>The Observer</i>, 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."<br /><br />From that moment on, <i>I am forever a Notre Dame fan</i> (though I will still root for Navy when the two teams meet). It was a moment of pure <i>class</i>, of unabashed <i>patriotism</i>, and of true <i>sportsmanship</i>; an all-too-rare combination. <br /><br />The <i>class</i> 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. <br /><br />The <i>patriotism</i> 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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />The <i>sportsmanship</i> 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.<br /><br />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. <i>Class, patriotism, sportsmanship</i>-all in one simple, but noble, gesture. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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." <br /><br />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>I cried</i>. <br /><br />Thank you, Charlie Weis, for a class act. Thank you, Notre Dame, for embracing patriotism. Thank you, Navy, for your service. </span><br />
<br />
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<br /><br />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.<br />William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-65799316606163945002012-11-22T09:42:00.003-06:002012-11-22T09:42:53.950-06:00Letter of Marque<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmCM8PrGMTee2s7XOPnsNBty_sjvb0uvpi3nEakhx1wqcAG3sIy4FKweYkfQF8jGt1-GY-BbbA5buQUexwxUTYGPWOnToQZAbInHAIa1AP6OHcjK-dShf1XplgEFa164EXK50Y6TQy9AAM/s1600/Lettre-de-marque2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmCM8PrGMTee2s7XOPnsNBty_sjvb0uvpi3nEakhx1wqcAG3sIy4FKweYkfQF8jGt1-GY-BbbA5buQUexwxUTYGPWOnToQZAbInHAIa1AP6OHcjK-dShf1XplgEFa164EXK50Y6TQy9AAM/s320/Lettre-de-marque2.jpg" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Letter of Marque</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRRXmtoy8me9LdhdopjHKKbT-4yicfsLhGpzZRoLhlZmZD-oWWZzGRfzmEKkVDT-8q4Umv7E9WaqYz__jaLONsiU9Bg5aLHSIDGvRQKpnUbzOX8A9i_dDkCDIumUyoacXApkre4S3TzQz/s1600/Drake-treasure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRRXmtoy8me9LdhdopjHKKbT-4yicfsLhGpzZRoLhlZmZD-oWWZzGRfzmEKkVDT-8q4Umv7E9WaqYz__jaLONsiU9Bg5aLHSIDGvRQKpnUbzOX8A9i_dDkCDIumUyoacXApkre4S3TzQz/s1600/Drake-treasure.jpg" /></a>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. <br />
<br />
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. .<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggfk92cfm1Vk9w6Sv807mV4f94uT5mbSJesww8MV9IREKsF-YggQjj4RneOheBdVJ1RgWFLz2XhEagqNPETplsqz-fgY0B3x0b4LpA2En1TTHlmlQFGHyuon3qBwZPlr2hAHpBribZ1wqD/s1600/John_Paul_Jones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggfk92cfm1Vk9w6Sv807mV4f94uT5mbSJesww8MV9IREKsF-YggQjj4RneOheBdVJ1RgWFLz2XhEagqNPETplsqz-fgY0B3x0b4LpA2En1TTHlmlQFGHyuon3qBwZPlr2hAHpBribZ1wqD/s200/John_Paul_Jones.jpg" width="161" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>John Paul Jones</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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 <b>A Matter of Honor</b>. 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. <br />
<br />
“I understand your father sent him [Gen. George Washington) two brigs last year.”<br />
“Yes, sir, he did,” Richard acknowledged. <br />
“Refitted as privateers?”<br />
“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.”<br />
“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. “ <br />
“We have more than a hundred privateers at sea, Captain,” Richard pointed out. “Have not the supplies they have seized helped our cause?” <br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-size: xx-small;">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].</span></i><br />
<br />William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-38663989056807079282012-11-12T12:50:00.001-06:002012-11-12T15:20:20.312-06:00Author Interview<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>William C. Hammond – Renewing America’s Seafaring Heritage</b><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Quarterdeck, November 2012, used with permission</span></i><br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CWuv0JBrRjJm3qoglnI9ndnXP-Ts58UwnwT2LMHmTRmJhccXLiJMvTPn_ZRJpIEXPe71L1721ljVdEK3CRCLnM_QNLvn9tQ42iu0qRSNBOQweRmf_UU5Pp4nyDx1wb_L49HzZ-jhaQav/s1600/Hammond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CWuv0JBrRjJm3qoglnI9ndnXP-Ts58UwnwT2LMHmTRmJhccXLiJMvTPn_ZRJpIEXPe71L1721ljVdEK3CRCLnM_QNLvn9tQ42iu0qRSNBOQweRmf_UU5Pp4nyDx1wb_L49HzZ-jhaQav/s1600/Hammond.jpg" /></a>The award-winning Chronicles, which feature the Cutler family of Hingham, Massachusetts, debuted in 2007 with the publication of <i>A Matter of Honor</i>. The novel introduces young Richard Cutler, who comes of age during the American Revolution. <i>A Matter of Honor</i> was followed by <i>For Love of Country</i> in 2010 and <i>The Power & the Glory</i> in 2011. This month the fourth title in the series – <i>A Call to Arms</i> – will be launched by the Naval Institute Press.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Quarterdeck recently interviewed the Minnesota-based author:<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">What led you to writing in the first place?</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Is the Cutler Family Chronicles your first entry into writing fiction? What was the genesis for the novels?</span><br />
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 <i>A Matter of Honor</i>.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Considering today's market, was it difficult to find a publisher?</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">What drew you to nautical fiction, as opposed to another genre?</span><br />
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!<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">As your fourth novel is launched, do you consider writing to be your vocation?</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Your new novel, <i>A Call to Arms</i>, once again follows the Cutler family to sea? How far ahead have you planned the series?</span><br />
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 <i>A Call to Arms</i>) 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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Your novels capture the surroundings in which you place your characters. What inspirations do you use to create these moments and events?</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Do you have a particular approach to researching your novels? Do you maintain a research library?</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Please describe how you approach writing your novels. </span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">What have been the greatest influences to this point in your writing career?</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">What comes next in your writing? Have you considered writing about other historical periods for your fiction?</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Please describe where you write.</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Is there one moment that stands out in your writing career?</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">When you're not researching, what do you like to read for pleasure? What are your other avocations?</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Do you read your own work after it is published? Do you have a favorite nautical fiction title or series written by others?</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">What do you think about e-books and electronic readers like Kindle or Nook?</span><br />
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!<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Is there anything else you would like to share with our readers?</span><br />
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.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-24707713545809660912012-10-29T11:32:00.003-05:002012-10-29T11:33:20.773-05:00Jefferson vs. Obama<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljYyIHAXId9qmPbT5SZMRlIn8SAerC7FENbqQoqK7Cd8VgUHp05Eps59TtQoPfu7JQ_HsaSJyoOacWFLkkUfccMgXH4-4WKgnhuMY7PqW8yY0oaZxqSVq0YC0hGvOwewStG6jFdXucL-d/s1600/Thomas_Jefferson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljYyIHAXId9qmPbT5SZMRlIn8SAerC7FENbqQoqK7Cd8VgUHp05Eps59TtQoPfu7JQ_HsaSJyoOacWFLkkUfccMgXH4-4WKgnhuMY7PqW8yY0oaZxqSVq0YC0hGvOwewStG6jFdXucL-d/s200/Thomas_Jefferson.jpg" width="153" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Thomas Jefferson</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8C3gdswln24H6wsPQD7w0YCp9n5_btHQfnnBe_LAje5q4VmtEIuiDqjLqGujwhHUZnF2acJTTuLS8w2fmYSIMJB401iFEr-d0PiEdeT2KtHvIejcf_lFZtPX6fGxNq6X-iazA253nsyn/s1600/Barack-Obama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8C3gdswln24H6wsPQD7w0YCp9n5_btHQfnnBe_LAje5q4VmtEIuiDqjLqGujwhHUZnF2acJTTuLS8w2fmYSIMJB401iFEr-d0PiEdeT2KtHvIejcf_lFZtPX6fGxNq6X-iazA253nsyn/s200/Barack-Obama.jpg" width="153" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Barack Obama</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
One <i>can</i> argue, however, that both presidents made gross miscalculations on the need of a strong military, in particular a strong navy. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3qOVygiUkw3eSfJXVJw6eGsIRPYUamArpo6l_BKuSrAqfPiNLNZP2KbQ517hZ-nzrnOwmsnkFwGHnzJUb3xTTQVa0iNCBwR9K0f3wbngcMna7afiZdS32QRbH9qL_5lZQUaQooqeLAE_/s1600/Battleship_Division_Nine_1918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3qOVygiUkw3eSfJXVJw6eGsIRPYUamArpo6l_BKuSrAqfPiNLNZP2KbQ517hZ-nzrnOwmsnkFwGHnzJUb3xTTQVa0iNCBwR9K0f3wbngcMna7afiZdS32QRbH9qL_5lZQUaQooqeLAE_/s320/Battleship_Division_Nine_1918.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>U.S. Battleship Division Nine, 1917</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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 <i>For Love of Country,</i> 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 <i>A Call to Arms</i>, 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. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsD_wYsIOVjCTNQ7hVQLqiSDdmTz93Je6bdQV_9UKEcQW2ENhkjlYbczgBPyjTRls8i0lFWXFAWVn1stE_-AjldeG_QJJc03x6lqx3KBtE66CWd0qeqUKQwbQi1A8I1IzbIumFHk7G8LYT/s1600/USN_Amphibious_assault_ships.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsD_wYsIOVjCTNQ7hVQLqiSDdmTz93Je6bdQV_9UKEcQW2ENhkjlYbczgBPyjTRls8i0lFWXFAWVn1stE_-AjldeG_QJJc03x6lqx3KBtE66CWd0qeqUKQwbQi1A8I1IzbIumFHk7G8LYT/s320/USN_Amphibious_assault_ships.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">U.S. Navy Amphibious assault ships, 2010</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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? </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
In a <i>New York Post</i> article entitled “The Prez Misleads on the Military’s Needs” dated 10/24/12, Rear Adm. <i>(ret.)</i> Joseph Callo writes as follows: </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
“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.” </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Admiral Callo goes on to write, “Numbers <i>do</i> 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. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Can you? </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
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 <i>The Sea Was Always There</i>. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-size: xx-small;">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]</span></i></div>
</div>
William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-21357616269271604822012-10-02T16:30:00.000-05:002012-10-02T16:30:40.024-05:00The Rock of Gibraltar<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFzPpNBXlw62KgQ2KBrtGHZBlwny0yz_BJ4xEXlZq1xCd-5lpcz6siPWXiwXjjuXS80-a3bmMji-EoVKcFpTj20FruyUyjO_KJJAO_Jk-UO0oLCNKFaw7XcOms3_YvPec7ipWWB4QSWacI/s1600/Rock_of_Gibraltar_1810.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFzPpNBXlw62KgQ2KBrtGHZBlwny0yz_BJ4xEXlZq1xCd-5lpcz6siPWXiwXjjuXS80-a3bmMji-EoVKcFpTj20FruyUyjO_KJJAO_Jk-UO0oLCNKFaw7XcOms3_YvPec7ipWWB4QSWacI/s400/Rock_of_Gibraltar_1810.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Rock of Gibraltar</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhACQWhRv0saAewQp18SwCShC7rffn5zEP46RyV5LZxKOJ_JNri1g_3Uyj98WoeIxLQuq7lYvSQq340Thdnej71YjDkqwN5ixVWtCrSAcHnTmwlgS0t6vGTfgRRbqvGxDamvuOXjrx_hY3g/s1600/Howe%2527s_relief_of_gibraltar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhACQWhRv0saAewQp18SwCShC7rffn5zEP46RyV5LZxKOJ_JNri1g_3Uyj98WoeIxLQuq7lYvSQq340Thdnej71YjDkqwN5ixVWtCrSAcHnTmwlgS0t6vGTfgRRbqvGxDamvuOXjrx_hY3g/s320/Howe%2527s_relief_of_gibraltar.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Siege and Relief of Gibraltar, 1862</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
So how did Gibraltar appear to someone who had never before visited the area? Below is a scene from <i>For Love of Country</i>, 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. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyuiEQAlxu6z_fCZ0TbLz69SqKskd9sqeIXM-ndNn2F-_CMYeGq-tnjJUaZjBaJ4aQvI08ZDguJmZbgoqS1t_sLfOVhsSHjKjFpL7sWBrFXsuqHn3EQBmnRNI_nlAXOX7giasFbJRiBxM0/s1600/Europa_Point.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyuiEQAlxu6z_fCZ0TbLz69SqKskd9sqeIXM-ndNn2F-_CMYeGq-tnjJUaZjBaJ4aQvI08ZDguJmZbgoqS1t_sLfOVhsSHjKjFpL7sWBrFXsuqHn3EQBmnRNI_nlAXOX7giasFbJRiBxM0/s320/Europa_Point.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Europa Point, Gibraltar</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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. <br />
<br />
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurlBDVVMFr7rUd_AOgEUrkJR0yKIxW9hHvm-RpopZmaEiRrchRb65Wcf-7yjo-QwCaobH6YvgR_QZXFxo35mq-HjvVHPAmnB11i4N5agBsshddaj96ycTCwufp84bpahGV3srKhSoFrpH/s1600/The_Moorish_Castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurlBDVVMFr7rUd_AOgEUrkJR0yKIxW9hHvm-RpopZmaEiRrchRb65Wcf-7yjo-QwCaobH6YvgR_QZXFxo35mq-HjvVHPAmnB11i4N5agBsshddaj96ycTCwufp84bpahGV3srKhSoFrpH/s320/The_Moorish_Castle.jpg" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tower of Homage in the <br />Moorish Castle, Gibraltar</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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.”<br />
<div>
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #666666;"><i>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] </i></span></span></div>
</div>
William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-29399763836193451032012-08-21T09:42:00.000-05:002012-08-21T09:42:53.911-05:00Who Was England’s True Enemy in 1776?<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_EQQG6wjI7f3QPJn83f55asEwCIgsz2vbc8QVVP9wvJym9zMSEIy89PltCb_ZItwBLd9A7nc-1ebfDGqi8aV5oSc7t3sPosXKeDxfcApkHmk52Lr5_v0LUFJv5ny931TdycTnOYON-KI/s1600/George_III_1792.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_EQQG6wjI7f3QPJn83f55asEwCIgsz2vbc8QVVP9wvJym9zMSEIy89PltCb_ZItwBLd9A7nc-1ebfDGqi8aV5oSc7t3sPosXKeDxfcApkHmk52Lr5_v0LUFJv5ny931TdycTnOYON-KI/s320/George_III_1792.jpg" width="215" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Helvetica;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">King George III </span></i></span>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
What
Americans refer to as the “Revolutionary War”, most Brits refer to as the
“American War of Independence.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
may seem a fine distinction, but semantically the British are correct.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>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.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>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.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No matter how you slice and dice it, however, the war was a
civil war.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>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.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHjR8Zy354HXeQjW42A9s0YZk4flGXUG7OvMZgMoo9oh4jEvvWhOaRy4evLs5orks_aQW6bXN-6_oRuHOKd0005hNU3bHgMgD7vPur5iZKkopHs748FIplHutWGLve7_bPHal9HJkgfrk-/s1600/Cape_Holman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHjR8Zy354HXeQjW42A9s0YZk4flGXUG7OvMZgMoo9oh4jEvvWhOaRy4evLs5orks_aQW6bXN-6_oRuHOKd0005hNU3bHgMgD7vPur5iZKkopHs748FIplHutWGLve7_bPHal9HJkgfrk-/s1600/Cape_Holman.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: xx-small;"><i>
<span style="color: black; font-family: Helvetica;"><i>The
moonlight <span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Battle of Cape St
Vincent</span></i></span> </i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<span class="A2"><span style="color: black;">But
what really was at issue for England in this war?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>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?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The answer is, in a word, no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>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.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why is that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps it was
because, from their perspective, Germaine and his military cohorts were
emphasizing the wrong enemy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4miYr7nis10RcqcH3fNCDicU9UuxZaSCAqAcn5yCPVV0Xq60G7C7JbwhvpwD_obozilDa1EKNRI4cDE5CqAUrgVbHern75W4ZNUHhe4_27DbLwrLBLdyYQwD9qkWfVG-qVUo0I7Bw9hA9/s1600/Bunker_Hill_by_Pyle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4miYr7nis10RcqcH3fNCDicU9UuxZaSCAqAcn5yCPVV0Xq60G7C7JbwhvpwD_obozilDa1EKNRI4cDE5CqAUrgVbHern75W4ZNUHhe4_27DbLwrLBLdyYQwD9qkWfVG-qVUo0I7Bw9hA9/s320/Bunker_Hill_by_Pyle.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Helvetica;"><i><span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Battle
of Bunker Hill</span></span></i></span>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To illustrate the point, following is a scene from chapter
eight of <b>A Matter of Honor</b><span style="font-weight: normal;"> 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.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>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.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>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.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two sugar plantations owned and
operated by the Cutlers in the West Indies comprise the bulk of their family
wealth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>William Cutler starts out
speaking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<span class="A2"><span style="color: black;">“I’d
like to pick up on a subject we broached last evening,” he said, the gravity in
his </span>voice reflecting the time he had devoted since then to clarifying
his own views on the subject.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“As
you recall, I made several references to ‘the war’. Understandably, to you and to most people in America, ‘the
war’ means ‘the revolution’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fact
is, England is currently engaged in <i>two </i></span><span class="A2">wars, each
with an entirely separate purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first war is to <i>maintain </i></span><span class="A2">our empire. That, sadly, involves the civil war in
America.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the same time, we are
fighting a second war to <i>sustain</i></span><span class="A2"> our empire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That one is against our ancient enemy,
France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At stake are the sugar
islands of the West Indies -- our islands, Richard, Barbados and Tobago among
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whoever controls those
islands controls the wherewithal to wage a hundred wars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is why I am convinced that Spain
and Holland will soon enter this war.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And other countries too, all allied against us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It then will become a world war, and
England will be standing alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mind you, these other countries will not be fighting in support of
American revolutionary ideals any more than France is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why would Louis and his chevaliers support
open rebellion against a king?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>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.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>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 <i>real </i></span><span class="A2">threat in the
Indies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can’t defend our
islands properly and our enemies are aware of our weaknesses.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhRy5DcN0DOd7Lfw43zCjqlXbYgZl3-921FLdPRZMufwbPXe24vU3RR6XBNk97MNsD9l-IQmGQaJphntTC2_FluKAoSpu0xKBSdcYOmvbwvmafI_1VmXs9L3AdEB40yh4WMaH2LjXyRjR/s1600/Death_of_Montgomery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhRy5DcN0DOd7Lfw43zCjqlXbYgZl3-921FLdPRZMufwbPXe24vU3RR6XBNk97MNsD9l-IQmGQaJphntTC2_FluKAoSpu0xKBSdcYOmvbwvmafI_1VmXs9L3AdEB40yh4WMaH2LjXyRjR/s320/Death_of_Montgomery.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Helvetica;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">The Death of
General Montgomery <br />at the Attack on Quebec</span></i></span> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<span class="A2">Richard walked on,
pondering what his uncle had said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had to admit, it made sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“How would you advise the king and his council, were you able to?” he
asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<span class="A2"><span style="color: black;">“I
am able to, and in fact I have done so through my contacts in Westminster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My advice to King </span>George and
Parliament is to seek reconciliation as quickly as possible with the former
colonies.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<span class="A2"><span style="color: black;">Richard
felt his eyebrows involuntarily shoot up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<span class="A2"><span style="color: black;">“You’d
sue for peace?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grant America her
independence?”</span></span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<span class="A2"><span style="color: black;">“If
necessary, yes,” William Cutler said with conviction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“England would be </span>far better off, in my opinion, with
the United States as her ally rather than her enemy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, we share a common heritage and system of
beliefs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Together, there would be
no stopping us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the civil war
is simply not worth the cost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our
military and exchequer are being bled dry in America whilst we put our true
source of wealth and prosperity at grave risk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many Britons agree with me, which is why you’ve found so
many people sympathetic to you both here and in the West Country...”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have to agree with Mr. Cutler, as I believe most British
and American historians would today.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-size: xx-small;">Photo credits: <i>George III of the United Kingdom</i> [public domain]; <i>Battle of Bunker Hill</i> by Howard Pyle [public domain]; <i>The moonlight Battle of Cape St Vincent</i> by Francis Holman [public domain]; <i>The Death of General Montgomery at the Attack on Quebec</i>, by John Trumbull, 1786 [public domain].</span></div>
<br />
William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-44770471821628308372012-07-25T18:42:00.000-05:002012-07-25T18:42:32.214-05:00Tripoli 1801 vs. Iraq 2003
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>949</o:Words>
<o:Characters>5413</o:Characters>
<o:Lines>45</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>10</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>6647</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>11.1539</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotShowRevisions/>
<w:DoNotPrintRevisions/>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">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 <b>A
Call To Arms</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> 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.</span></div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUdTFLVbqrdou1_b-8ogbrnTVzIAoW71nkVKFPgr_x6cOHi1ROtRXhlT36cIYOfoRvn49SxIlNUXS7mMUCbALSlzeDFf1hT3-A75vh25eXgBXodC2oGqt5ID2D_6EBclohf6r2CMO7y7Y/s1600/George-W-Bush.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUdTFLVbqrdou1_b-8ogbrnTVzIAoW71nkVKFPgr_x6cOHi1ROtRXhlT36cIYOfoRvn49SxIlNUXS7mMUCbALSlzeDFf1hT3-A75vh25eXgBXodC2oGqt5ID2D_6EBclohf6r2CMO7y7Y/s1600/George-W-Bush.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>George W. Bush</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLoqLkEiSXDpRTqlsA6tM2TKYwAa9sOHArNbJl-WaN_EpCyd23VjNnbNsPc1UMy4fhia4AOsP4l4ieuQTvYqcPHqEkbGSrL6tQhSSjZ2r4yQdi3DWC1GzbVbK_UfG_9etp7rXUGqEJVvxh/s1600/Tjefferson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLoqLkEiSXDpRTqlsA6tM2TKYwAa9sOHArNbJl-WaN_EpCyd23VjNnbNsPc1UMy4fhia4AOsP4l4ieuQTvYqcPHqEkbGSrL6tQhSSjZ2r4yQdi3DWC1GzbVbK_UfG_9etp7rXUGqEJVvxh/s200/Tjefferson.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Thomas Jefferson</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">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 <i>any</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> 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 <i>jihad</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">, or a holy war against the infidel
Christian Americans, seemed his best alternative. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGW9zYerAq3u6g2LR68Uwg3Ohk9OvWC1iy78jxXLACCbyek-zgXqWMZpW-12PhEcLu9MSNG-x5q_732wgZ0pepDHqtXtNNhNVod9b9stsDK45yj048Qx5j3G0azvmO615pd885-tVnVPRB/s1600/F-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGW9zYerAq3u6g2LR68Uwg3Ohk9OvWC1iy78jxXLACCbyek-zgXqWMZpW-12PhEcLu9MSNG-x5q_732wgZ0pepDHqtXtNNhNVod9b9stsDK45yj048Qx5j3G0azvmO615pd885-tVnVPRB/s320/F-15.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>F-15 during Operation <br />Iraqi Freedom</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFZXF59guiwcZBPPytgMPgQfyM8VWiGTTjfAQDt8rZGjF4-HG-VAYo_qzwIblrlefzZC5KG536kSUfM9w9SeXz8YaZ5RfRY-bVCjkDu8DcSmI0n97gvY599P9yL4T4R0HhciWuaelvMRV5/s1600/Burning_of_the_uss_philadelphia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFZXF59guiwcZBPPytgMPgQfyM8VWiGTTjfAQDt8rZGjF4-HG-VAYo_qzwIblrlefzZC5KG536kSUfM9w9SeXz8YaZ5RfRY-bVCjkDu8DcSmI0n97gvY599P9yL4T4R0HhciWuaelvMRV5/s320/Burning_of_the_uss_philadelphia.jpg" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span">Bur</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">ning of</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small; font-style: italic;"> the Frigate Philadelphia <br />in the Harbor of Tripoli</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">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. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">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. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 27.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-size: xx-small;">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].</span></i></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-13592662577582585282012-06-26T11:10:00.000-05:002012-06-26T11:10:02.176-05:00Was England Really So Unreasonable?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>943</o:Words>
<o:Characters>5377</o:Characters>
<o:Lines>44</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>10</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>6603</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>11.1539</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotShowRevisions/>
<w:DoNotPrintRevisions/>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5Ewv9cqyco03gamsz1eKZ_zCJSWmh11GTmmfs21WN96VvOtWHbKCO6DM9oS7NsMmQ_Bmq9gpU480xR2xqQfUnacxqDMoJpa0Pbh__mCHy54oC9I5dmoLMPs-0Y-rfZDpsMrx-9qfzpf_/s1600/Parliament_Stamp_Act1765.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5Ewv9cqyco03gamsz1eKZ_zCJSWmh11GTmmfs21WN96VvOtWHbKCO6DM9oS7NsMmQ_Bmq9gpU480xR2xqQfUnacxqDMoJpa0Pbh__mCHy54oC9I5dmoLMPs-0Y-rfZDpsMrx-9qfzpf_/s320/Parliament_Stamp_Act1765.jpg" width="173" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>5</o:Words>
<o:Characters>31</o:Characters>
<o:Lines>1</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>38</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>11.1539</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotShowRevisions/>
<w:DoNotPrintRevisions/>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Newspaper
posting of <br />Stamp Act, 1765.</i></span></span><!--EndFragment--> </span> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-phRrNO_MeaGFuMGQgl5a9eVqldB5yPAgfAcFNb35pTBVqwJSj0wByA2BW5beyy9HCn_R_sVbmaJuqzbNO6D3MJqpQwpkYjgOjeyYX2kDWGg-SYuSnGHXNbJMKGmTM-OL5_YjSS7UXw15/s1600/Boston_Massacre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-phRrNO_MeaGFuMGQgl5a9eVqldB5yPAgfAcFNb35pTBVqwJSj0wByA2BW5beyy9HCn_R_sVbmaJuqzbNO6D3MJqpQwpkYjgOjeyYX2kDWGg-SYuSnGHXNbJMKGmTM-OL5_YjSS7UXw15/s320/Boston_Massacre.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>2</o:Words>
<o:Characters>13</o:Characters>
<o:Lines>1</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>15</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>11.1539</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotShowRevisions/>
<w:DoNotPrintRevisions/>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment--><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Boston Massacre</i></span></span><!--EndFragment-->
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ALYUaGZm8Nf4o8tuAnoRbLlOXNBAaibkgbZTZRIZv_yxq8ewz9PrFSayAkpCZ4Lioc0MK8CDvqpvKNDKWI5ToHYlbODH3EUs6xtgt_WCs-85exiF68C6J8SvsZqp54xPUSiU8JAHrAum/s1600/Boston_Tea_Party_Currier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ALYUaGZm8Nf4o8tuAnoRbLlOXNBAaibkgbZTZRIZv_yxq8ewz9PrFSayAkpCZ4Lioc0MK8CDvqpvKNDKWI5ToHYlbODH3EUs6xtgt_WCs-85exiF68C6J8SvsZqp54xPUSiU8JAHrAum/s320/Boston_Tea_Party_Currier.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>5</o:Words>
<o:Characters>33</o:Characters>
<o:Lines>1</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>40</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>11.1539</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotShowRevisions/>
<w:DoNotPrintRevisions/>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-size: xx-small;"><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">The Destruction of Tea at Boston Harbor</span><!--EndFragment--> </i></span> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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 </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sound reasonable? Perhaps to our generation, but certainly
not to many English colonists living in America at that time. To them, <i>any</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> levy of taxes without the consent of the governed
violated their unalienable rights as free English citizens and were therefore
subject to open resistance.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgACzHu7uTBKRvDS5WTI5GEoZBLhrxCBVgmdJsVopjevtQeJ-ift8VqAA4wL4236VyF-djtJiX3HD2qMOu0r2S0uWgoOKnvhMUz_hNTn23J-IkHcjhNzw3mIA6NjSD3B0Za8YwaUTotYvcJ/s1600/Boston_1768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgACzHu7uTBKRvDS5WTI5GEoZBLhrxCBVgmdJsVopjevtQeJ-ift8VqAA4wL4236VyF-djtJiX3HD2qMOu0r2S0uWgoOKnvhMUz_hNTn23J-IkHcjhNzw3mIA6NjSD3B0Za8YwaUTotYvcJ/s320/Boston_1768.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>4</o:Words>
<o:Characters>23</o:Characters>
<o:Lines>1</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>28</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>11.1539</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotShowRevisions/>
<w:DoNotPrintRevisions/>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Boston 1768 by Paul Revere</i></span></span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment--></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To help illustrate the point, following is an excerpt from
chapter 2 of <b>A Matter of Honor</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">. 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.</span> </div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“Explain
yourself, sir,” Henry Hardcastle harrumphed.</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">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?”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“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?”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“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.” </span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">Henry
Hardcastle threw up his arms in frustration. His daughter (<u>author’s note</u>:
Richard’s future wife) said: </span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“Are
you suggesting, Will, that my father is somehow responsible for how people are
treated in America?”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“No,
not directly, Katherine. But every Englishman in a position of influence must
bear some responsibility.”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“I
say!” Henry fumed, his dander up. </span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">Jamie <u>(author’s
note</u>: 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.”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“And
bear in mind,” added Robin (<u>author’s note</u>: 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.” </span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“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?”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">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 (<u>author’s note</u>: 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</span>…</div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-size: xx-small;">
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>63</o:Words>
<o:Characters>363</o:Characters>
<o:Lines>3</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>445</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>11.1539</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotShowRevisions/>
<w:DoNotPrintRevisions/>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
</span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-size: xx-small;">Photo credits: <span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Newspaper posting of Stamp Act, 1765. Public domain; </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><i>Boston Massacre perpetrated in
King Street Boston on March 5th 1770 by a party of the 29th Regt.</i> Public domain; "The Destruction
of Tea at Boston Harbor," lithograph depicting the 1773 Boston Tea Party.
1846 by Nathaniel Currier. Public domain;</span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><i>A
view of the Town of Boston in New England and British ships of war landing
their troops, 1768 </i></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">by Paul Revere. Public domain.</span></span><br />
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2"><br /></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2"><br /></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2"><br /></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2"><br /></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2"><br /></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2"><br /></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2"><br /></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-92207966298812049362012-06-05T15:16:00.001-05:002012-06-10T08:09:55.915-05:00The Fall of the Bastille<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirT4dq_UQoMB7tEmFfimq-okQACVZAQWETlcK4aYbGLMmhj7Gl-jKGnF7np85H-uKODE9XycPcP_-RuqWeuMRrEfYGswUo5akkG2ynB7mtyfIlOKPPVvQSfZcZe_vyk4oplMikHzAyvnHA/s1600/Prise_de_la_Bastille.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirT4dq_UQoMB7tEmFfimq-okQACVZAQWETlcK4aYbGLMmhj7Gl-jKGnF7np85H-uKODE9XycPcP_-RuqWeuMRrEfYGswUo5akkG2ynB7mtyfIlOKPPVvQSfZcZe_vyk4oplMikHzAyvnHA/s320/Prise_de_la_Bastille.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Storming of the Bastille</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">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 <i>A Tale of Two Cities</i>, 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. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaIPLo_BWhKfGP3ymE4h3XCG11IrVY1TT20OW_0vvrpc3LNVtPIuYQ6cnlq5EA9686xCqjGIVzj3SI2sGbgobgMCI9tMndsSDcYMPIGiQQFgtaQmJd5AX_4aa4B5kNgoLF5RpktLAdvuob/s1600/LouisXVI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaIPLo_BWhKfGP3ymE4h3XCG11IrVY1TT20OW_0vvrpc3LNVtPIuYQ6cnlq5EA9686xCqjGIVzj3SI2sGbgobgMCI9tMndsSDcYMPIGiQQFgtaQmJd5AX_4aa4B5kNgoLF5RpktLAdvuob/s320/LouisXVI.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>King Louis XVI</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">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 <b>For Love of</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> <b>Country</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial;">,
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. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> “What
exactly do you know about what happened at the Bastille?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> 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.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> “Lafayette
is correct. Go on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> “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 (<u>editor’s note</u>: the most powder stored anywhere in
France), that was no small threat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> “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.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> “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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> “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: <i>Vive le roi! </i></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> 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!’”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">(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.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: x-small;">Photo credits: <i>Storming of the Bastille and arrest of the Governor M. de Launay</i>, July 14, 1789, public domain; <i>Louis XVI in Coronation Robes</i>, public domain.</span></span></div>William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-47352041301085648672012-05-09T12:21:00.001-05:002012-05-09T12:21:37.636-05:00The Majesty of Spithead<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWK5CZ5ymul4LaLmBj-u2BaukEjr0MZPhuYUbMKYhtxganPjjxgufgjthoF9swBx05u3PXoElIfh7t6vTf2mAXcmD-IDUb7DsgZMW-kU4GEac0KhYiNovwplRQM0DtTpNZj2-XNevzM1fO/s1600/SpitheadMap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWK5CZ5ymul4LaLmBj-u2BaukEjr0MZPhuYUbMKYhtxganPjjxgufgjthoF9swBx05u3PXoElIfh7t6vTf2mAXcmD-IDUb7DsgZMW-kU4GEac0KhYiNovwplRQM0DtTpNZj2-XNevzM1fO/s1600/SpitheadMap.jpg" /></a>Spithead. For centuries, the very word has conjured up mental images of British hegemony at sea for sailors and lubbers of all nations. The name derives from a spit of sand stretching south for three miles into the Solent, a strait separating the Isle of Wight from the Hampshire shore. The area that incorporates what is generally referred to as Spithead is roughly fourteen miles long and four miles wide. Spithead, where Royal Navy warships continue to this day to lie at anchor in protected waters, is often used synonymously with Portsmouth, the administrative center and the site of the world-famous Portsmouth Dockyard, to define Britain’s premier naval base.</div>
<br />
In this relatively small body of water moves much of England’s coastal trade. It is also where the Royal Navy has maintained a naval base since the age of Richard the Lionhearted. From 1690 to 1909, Spithead was home to the Channel Fleet, an onslaught of British warships whose primary responsibility at the time of the Cutler Family Chronicles (and in prior years) was to prevent the warships of England’s enemies, particularly France, from entering the English Channel. It was also the site of a famous mutiny in 1797, during which British sailors went on strike to demand higher wages and better working conditions. Among other literary interpretations of this event by O’Brian, Forester and a host of other gifted authors, the novel <b>Billy Budd</b> by Herman Melville is set on ships of the Channel Fleet immediately after this mutiny was addressed by My Lords of the Admiralty.<br />
<br />
What must have it been like for the uninitiated to encounter the majestic splendor of a Royal Navy base for the first time? Following is an excerpt from chapter two of <b>A Matter of Honor</b> in which Richard Cutler and his brother Will have sailed on their first cruise from Boston to England. They are aboard their family’s merchant brig Eagle on their way to visit their Uncle William Cutler and his family who live just north of Portsmouth in a town called Fareham.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyTnRmN7D8uggt2aDxhClW19JaQxjD8EFkyc1iqh2xmrejSVyP_iEnPxCVCbPCgL1W6IcCV3QYLDCd7Eudj3dFqNN9-yXrzqblH44O7vB7Bu5kxbvbeqPMQV8OitPpHMYNjwbNTZ1AobnG/s1600/Ships_at_Spithead_1797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyTnRmN7D8uggt2aDxhClW19JaQxjD8EFkyc1iqh2xmrejSVyP_iEnPxCVCbPCgL1W6IcCV3QYLDCd7Eudj3dFqNN9-yXrzqblH44O7vB7Bu5kxbvbeqPMQV8OitPpHMYNjwbNTZ1AobnG/s400/Ships_at_Spithead_1797.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
His watch off duty, Richard walked forward to the larboard foremast shrouds to survey the scenery ashore. Will joined him, as did most of the ship’s crew. It was the first land they had seen in nearly four weeks, and for the older sailors aboard, it was homeland.<br />
“Look, Will,” said Richard, pointing abeam. “Those ruins over there on that cliff. Ancient fortresses, I suspect. Wasn’t it the Tudor kings, the Henrys, who ordered them built to protect the naval base?”<br />
Will did not respond. Richard continued to watch with fascination as history passed by him on either side. “There’s another one, Will, to starboard. Take a look,” he implored. Again Will did not respond. Richard turned to look at him; when he saw Will staring transfixed ahead, he gazed forward to see what his brother found so engrossing. Confused by what he saw, he decided to go to the prow for a better view. To his surprise he realized there was no room to move forward. What seemed like the entire ship’s company was standing on or near the forecastle in silent contemplation of what Eagle was now approaching. Thoroughly bewildered, Richard grasped a backstay and stepped out onto a larboard chain-wale. Leaning out, he searched ahead to where the Solent met Southampton Water between Portsmouth Harbor and the Isle of Wight. There, stretched before him as far and wide as sight would permit, was a display of naval power and glory beyond imagining, each ship looming ever more imperiously into view as Eagle glided serenely through the protected waters.<br />
“Spithead,” remarked a seaman, as if explanation at this point was necessary.<br />
It was a virtual forest of masts and spars, a basin covering a vast area filled with ships of every description and size, some bigger than Richard had ever envisioned. Bustling about among these leviathans was subservient water traffic: longboats and bumboats and water-lighters powered by sail or oars shuttling back and forth between the great ships and Portsmouth Town, bearing the officers, crew, cargo, provisions, water barrels, ordnance, and dispatches to sustain an empire. Up until now, Richard had considered his family’s brig Eagle a large vessel. He had seen larger ones of course. A Royal Navy frigate had once sailed into Hingham Bay, and a year ago in Boston his father had pointed out three ships of the line anchored in the harbor. But those vessels he had viewed from a distance and from that distance they appeared more like the toy models he and Will used to build as children. Certainly they had seemed far less formidable than the ship they were now closing on, so close that Eagle seemed in comparison a tiny water bug cruising by. Ezrah Harley identified her as the flagship of a Vice-Admiral of the Blue, pointing up at the long blue pennant fluttering self-importantly from the foremast truck. Three tiers of gun ports were closed shut on her starboard side, and a Jacob’s ladder hanging down from the waist to the waterline seemed to lead up to the Almighty Himself, in command on the quarterdeck. <br />
“How many ships do you think, Will?” <br />
“I dunno. A hundred, maybe?”<br />
“More like two hunderd, mate,” a seaman corrected him. “And them’s just the ones that ‘appen to be in port. Spit’s been called the ‘wooden wall of England’. Now you know why.”<br />
It was with a keen sense of humility that Eagle’s crew took her on a final tack through the narrow and crooked entrance of Portsmouth Harbor and dropped anchor near the commercial wharves at Gosport, at the opposite end of the harbor from the long stone buildings of Portsmouth Dockyard, a Royal Navy facility that by 1774 had become the largest industrial enterprise the world had ever known.<br />
<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Photo credits: Map of Spithead and environs. Public domain; Ships at Spithead 1797. </i>Sceptre<i>. </i>King George<i>, Hudson's Bay Company. </i>Rodney<i>, East Indiaman. </i>Ganges<i>. Perseverence. </i>General Goddard<i>, East Indiaman; watercolour. Public domain. </i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span>William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-66269032770064970282012-04-24T00:34:00.000-05:002012-04-24T01:17:16.705-05:00Bringing History Alive<br />
<i>My new blog is a “blog within a blog” and is based on a recent radio
interview I did with Bookmark Radio in Denver.</i><br />
<br />
By Michael Scott, co-host of Bookmark Radio<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBpX7H0FK6bEWoQUzR3e7loQo6t7UK8OQgqJ7tC147W0rw1D76zBkGO0_upysKCUOHhd7hL6krmA5IHbgtQh-Ld2XMbOc-eM313n23m2Quw7yPwA4_NQcAFSseC2Z7lQBmmXbQXU3cVTFk/s1600/USSConstellationVsInsurgente.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBpX7H0FK6bEWoQUzR3e7loQo6t7UK8OQgqJ7tC147W0rw1D76zBkGO0_upysKCUOHhd7hL6krmA5IHbgtQh-Ld2XMbOc-eM313n23m2Quw7yPwA4_NQcAFSseC2Z7lQBmmXbQXU3cVTFk/s320/USSConstellationVsInsurgente.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>USS Constellation and L'Insurgente</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
What better way to learn about the early history of our country than with
a series of engrossing novels that also get the facts right and weave in
the actual historical figures who played pivotal roles during this era? That’s what it’s all about for Bill Hammond, author of the Cutler Family
Chronicles, a series of nautical / historical fiction novels that are
meticulously researched and thoroughly vetted.<br />
<br />
Bill was my guest on Bookmark Radio on Monday, April 16. (I was flying
solo—my co-host Wendy was not able to make the show but she contributed by
texting in some very good questions!) You can hear the interview online
<a href="http://castlerockradio.com/ARCHIVES/BOOKMARK/BookmarkRadio_04-16-2012.mp3"><b>here</b></a>.
The fourth book in his series, <em><b>A Call to Arms</b></em>, is scheduled for
release in November by the Naval Institute Press in Annapolis, MD. Bill
is working diligently on the fifth volume.<br />
<br />
The Cutler Family Chronicles cover the years 1774 through 1815 as seen through
the eyes of the Cutler family, which has residences in both England and New
England, and also on the island of Barbados. In the first book, <em><b>A Matter of Honor</b></em>, protagonist
Richard Cutler is a Massachusetts teenager who joins the Continental Navy to
avenge the death of his brother, who in turn had been pressed into service by
the British. Each book stands alone, but I recommend reading them all in order
since the characters evolve throughout the series.<br />
<br />
It was almost inevitable that Bill would take on this mammoth literary project.
He grew up in Massachusetts on Cape Ann (“fifty feet from the ocean”) and
learned to sail at age eight. His family was very literary and all were
voracious readers. Bill loved history and was a college history
major. It all ties together so well!<br />
<br />
Interest in nautical fiction, a subcategory of historical fiction, is
growing according to Bill. He points out there are many excellent writers
in this genre including C.S. Forester and Patrick O’Brian. The Cutler
Family Chronicles tell the story of this era from the American perspective (the
Continental Navy and the U.S. Navy) rather than the more common British
viewpoint.<br />
<br />
Look for the books from the Cutler Family Chronicles in your local bookstore
and, of course, through Amazon and other on-line sources. Be sure to
check out Bill’s website, <a href="http://www.bill-hammond.com/">www.bill-hammond.com</a>,
if only to see the beautiful cover artwork on these books! My thanks to
Bill Hammond for taking the time to join us on Book Mark Radio!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0roVr8-f2jOFoTdg14YILGt0Ehbwepgcm4sn3xnf8sYdlewH5MW5bv9VwUil_DxCZyAJQKUtLpm6BQYkOJMj0mWl2eqbPRPiJmNlK3wAx5XuU6J6L-uH6cCiyLrru8ZfAAB2Nt4Zu0nN/s1600/MichaelScott.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0roVr8-f2jOFoTdg14YILGt0Ehbwepgcm4sn3xnf8sYdlewH5MW5bv9VwUil_DxCZyAJQKUtLpm6BQYkOJMj0mWl2eqbPRPiJmNlK3wAx5XuU6J6L-uH6cCiyLrru8ZfAAB2Nt4Zu0nN/s1600/MichaelScott.jpg" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><strong><i>Michael Scott is co-host of the weekly radio show, Bookmark
Radio. </i></strong><a href="http://www.bookmarkradio.com/"><strong><i>www.bookmarkradio.com</i></strong></a>.
It is on air live at 4:00 MDT in Denver, Colorado. Follow the show on Twitter: @BookmarkRadio. Please
“LIKE” the show at <a href="http://www.facebook.com/bookmarkradio">www.facebook.com/bookmarkradio</a></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-16316949012341126592012-04-10T16:20:00.003-05:002012-04-10T16:20:45.672-05:00The Burning of USS Philadelphia, 1804<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgetsEn0a1SgTF0ZTaq9UOi80gafwQqxG1GAxaDs8y3tr2ROv1PGISDwVJFCzesCQTzhDFTy8iZdgiNUyXmBzXFjE7OUzOTZW5JpzYkc1Vez7IljY2mI0CMq05n8CsVr5-cscej8I95n2AB/s1600/Hammond-9781612511443r.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgetsEn0a1SgTF0ZTaq9UOi80gafwQqxG1GAxaDs8y3tr2ROv1PGISDwVJFCzesCQTzhDFTy8iZdgiNUyXmBzXFjE7OUzOTZW5JpzYkc1Vez7IljY2mI0CMq05n8CsVr5-cscej8I95n2AB/s320/Hammond-9781612511443r.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
The destruction of a U.S. Navy frigate in Tripoli Harbor
proved to be a defining event in America’s first war on terrorism.
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The burning of USS <i>Philadelphia</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, as depicted on the jacket of <b>A Call To Arms</b></span>
(to be released by the Naval Institute Press in November), was one of the most
significant events to occur during the War with Tripoli, also known as the
First Barbary War. Whichever name you prefer, it was America’s first war
against terror – in this case, the terror of high seas piracy being perpetrated
by the Arab states of North Africa. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Midway through a war that hitherto had produced little of
consequence for either side, the new American commodore, Edward Preble, ordered
Capt. William Bainbridge to Tripoli to blockade the harbor. <i>Philadelphia</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> was up to the task. One of the early frigates to be
constructed for the fledgling U.S. Navy, she was launched in May of 1799 and
commissioned in April of 1800. She weighed 1,240 tons, was 157 feet long, and
carried a ship’s complement of 307 officers and crew. As ordnance, she carried
twenty-eight 18-pounder long guns and sixteen 32-pounder carronades. Tripoli
had nothing close to match her. Its navy consisted of a flotilla of gunboats
plus a squadron of small naval brigs presented to the bashaw either as gifts
from the Ottoman sultan or as bribes from the European maritime powers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4SeeucCMICVSDy1w00x9Phmudl2_ztAIN6hCZTmbyUHwVDyI_lORsKU6eYHEkLxziRNfSHPbHqeTu0Yq0UYEgq-7VwQRJAq93JY-xtxJnNuim4EJgFd_yFbS-scEtHffQTPf2IboNzCg/s1600/William_Bainbridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4SeeucCMICVSDy1w00x9Phmudl2_ztAIN6hCZTmbyUHwVDyI_lORsKU6eYHEkLxziRNfSHPbHqeTu0Yq0UYEgq-7VwQRJAq93JY-xtxJnNuim4EJgFd_yFbS-scEtHffQTPf2IboNzCg/s200/William_Bainbridge.jpg" width="157" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Capt. William Bainbridge</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On October 1803 Capt. Bainbridge spotted an enemy corsair
standing toward Tripoli and took off in pursuit of her. Fearing he had sailed
too close to shore, he abruptly called off the chase and ordered evolutions for
wearing ship. A short time later <i>Philadelphia</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> struck an uncharted reef and went aground. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bainbridge (who as a commanding lieutenant had surrendered
the naval schooner <i>Retaliation</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> in the
Quasi War) did everything he could to free her. He ordered all but two of her
guns tossed overboard, along with equipment and supplies. He even ordered her
foremast cut down, to lift her bow as her crew fought to kedge her off the
reef. The enemy ashore, meanwhile, had taken note of her struggles. A force of
gunboats was sent out and surrounded her. Seeing no alternative, Bainbridge
ordered </span><i>Philadelphia</i><span style="font-style: normal;">’s two
remaining guns fired at the enemy, for the sake of honor, while he secretly
deposited overboard the ship’s signal book and other sensitive documents. Bainbridge
and the ship’s crew were taken prisoner. Arab seamen, meanwhile, managed to
coax </span><i>Philadelphia</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> off the reef
and to salvage most of her guns.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4gC5xTKIirRazUpCTlpDnYLHBb4SVnlGzVXhd9_c-yixqshslN9LK6SHpdth_VuoMKlBqUi-OHmIMN-bjmlljluxUQubTw43EcnmuSPoq971wwgAdEMbmAUJyg33G5m2QnXyu4b33k6p/s1600/Edward_Preble.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4gC5xTKIirRazUpCTlpDnYLHBb4SVnlGzVXhd9_c-yixqshslN9LK6SHpdth_VuoMKlBqUi-OHmIMN-bjmlljluxUQubTw43EcnmuSPoq971wwgAdEMbmAUJyg33G5m2QnXyu4b33k6p/s200/Edward_Preble.jpg" width="155" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Commodore Edward Preble</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The capture of the American frigate posed a serious threat
to Commodore Preble’s Mediterranean Squadron. She was too great a prize to
remain in enemy hands. His dilemma was how to counter the threat. Preble
conferred with his officers who put forth several proposals. Following is a
conversation between Edward Preble and Richard Cutler, captain of the frigate <i>Portsmouth</i><span style="font-style: normal;">. The conversation takes place aboard USS </span><i>Constitution</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, flagship of the American squadron based in
Syracuse, Sicily. Richard Cutler has just informed Preble of what intelligence
he had garnered at the British naval base in Malta. . </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“[With this information] I have been able to approximate her
position on a chart. That position, unfortunately, puts her well within the
string of shoals and reefs that ring the inner harbor and make entry so
difficult.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“So cutting her out could prove
challenging,” Preble mused.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“I should think extremely so, sir,
under the circumstances. She has lost her foremast as no doubt you are
aware…and her mainmast has also suffered damage. I understand its t’gant mast
is gone. We don’t know the condition of her mizzen. I assume it remains intact,
since Captain Bainbridge mentioned nothing about it in his [secretly encoded]
letters.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“So to retake her we’ll need to tow
her out, just as she was towed in.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“That would appear to be our best
choice, sir. Unless…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Preble arched his eyebrows. “<i>Unless,</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> Mr. Cutler?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Richard met his hard stare. “Unless
we destroy her where she lies.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Preble returned the stare. “To keep
her out of the hands of the Tripolitans? And having her guns turned on us?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Precisely, sir. And given the
alternatives, I believe we’d have a much better chance of success. The odds
would be more in our favor.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Preble appeared to contemplate
that. “A most intriguing notion, Mr. Cutler, one I intend to discuss further
with my other squadron commanders. You will be interested to note that Master
Commandant Hull and Lieutenant Decatur have reached the same conclusion. I
daresay I am drawn to it as well.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The raid took place during the night of February 16, 1804. It
was led by Lt. Stephen Decatur, who assumed command of a recently captured
local ketch that was renamed <i>Intrepid, </i><span style="font-style: normal;">and
it involved a hand-picked crew of sailors and Marines from </span><i>Constitution</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> and </span><i>Enterprise.</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> The raid was a complete success. </span><i>Philadelphia </i><span style="font-style: normal;">burned to nothing and the Americans suffered no
casualties. So startling and complete was the mission, it prompted Adm. Horatio
Lord Nelson to subsequently label it “the most bold and daring act of our age.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:"Times New Roman";
panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";}
p.MsoFooter, li.MsoFooter, div.MsoFooter
{margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
tab-stops:center 3.0in right 6.0in;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";}
a:link, span.MsoHyperlink
{color:blue;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}
a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed
{color:purple;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-parent:"";
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";}
span.description
{mso-style-name:description;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
-->
</style><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-style: normal;">Photos: </span>
William Bainbridge (1774-1833) <span class="description">Public
domain; Commodore Edward Preble, painted
before 1807. Public domain.</span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></div>William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-13591287925705733412012-03-20T11:10:00.000-05:002012-03-20T11:10:25.482-05:00High Stakes in Paris, 1778<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIwwJFthcR-66kfhSmCLJo5YzcHDIjsdLKH82_vR3neVbpzWFgdq5r5ufhpP9GVJJfFtlWRW7gEDPB35vIj7JqplowvYLwjlQVH7FAfMWS6YSI9R3D3_azg9eGWKHZMQju93cPriVelqaU/s1600/Stamp_US_1977_13c_Saratoga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIwwJFthcR-66kfhSmCLJo5YzcHDIjsdLKH82_vR3neVbpzWFgdq5r5ufhpP9GVJJfFtlWRW7gEDPB35vIj7JqplowvYLwjlQVH7FAfMWS6YSI9R3D3_azg9eGWKHZMQju93cPriVelqaU/s200/Stamp_US_1977_13c_Saratoga.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The War of Independence was now entering its third year, and
the fate of the infant republic hung on one man’s ability to bring the French
in on America’s side in a formal military alliance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most historians agree that the Battle of Saratoga (NY) in
October 1777 was a seminal event in the American Revolution. “Gentleman Johnny”
Burgoyne may have been an exquisite Peer of the Realm who drank too much
champagne on his campaign southward from Canada, but he commanded a sizable and
seasoned army, and he was considered a competent general. That his army was
defeated by a rag-tag band of rebels had sent shock-waves across the Atlantic
into the courts of King George III and King Louis XVI. For perhaps the first
time since the Revolution began, it occurred to the French that, <i>sacré bleu</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, these American upstarts might actually </span><i>win
</i><span style="font-style: normal;">the war.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still, serious questions lingered about how long General
Washington’s army could remain a viable military threat to British land forces.
Saratoga had marked the end of the fall campaign; freezing weather had since
swept in upon the former colonies; in the coming months, how many Continentals
would desert the harsh conditions of Valley Forge for the warmth and embrace of
sweethearts and home? France had been quick to recognize America’s independence
and it had already sent clandestine aid to the American patriots. But if France
were to enter into a formal military alliance with the fledgling United States,
that could be a game-changer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From the first days of the revolution, it was evident to
American High Command in the Continental Army and Continental Congress that the
United States could not win the war without massive aid from France. What the
United States desperately required were French warships in addition to French
shiploads of ordnance, supplies, and money. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5yN2D4L7E9Yjief2zenwZk7LN9XSwLVsby6YfkrFz2yNfNR8N0ABjd_3uRva-k5mor31fZeXczDQ1jZx3Aaz2bVnfDSzCWUazEzuS8YLQUj95EsPJOElQ-j_neM79pFk2GEszF2FgT78A/s1600/Benjamin_Franklin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5yN2D4L7E9Yjief2zenwZk7LN9XSwLVsby6YfkrFz2yNfNR8N0ABjd_3uRva-k5mor31fZeXczDQ1jZx3Aaz2bVnfDSzCWUazEzuS8YLQUj95EsPJOElQ-j_neM79pFk2GEszF2FgT78A/s200/Benjamin_Franklin.jpg" width="158" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Benjamin Franklin, 1778</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Who would Congress now call on to save the revolution? The
answer was never in serious doubt. It would call on perhaps the most famous man
in the world and certainly the most beloved man in France: Benjamin Franklin.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Franklin was nearly seventy when he sailed to France in 1776
as his nation’s consul in Paris. Two other Americans diplomats joined him in
what passed for the American embassy in Passy, a village of the rich and famous
located between Paris and the royal court at Versailles. But it was Franklin
who stole the show. Silas Deane was competent enough, but the inept Arthur Lee
would eventually be replaced by John Adams. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every French man and woman of every station adored Ben
Franklin. His homespun clothes and coonskin cap and down home humor captivated
everyone. It was said that the number of French <i>chateaux</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> plus the number of ordinary French </span><i>maisons</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> that did not have an image of Franklin hanging on a
wall could be counted on one hand. It was even reported that Queen Marie
Antoinette carried a small silhouetted image of Franklin’s head on whatever
necklace she happened to be wearing. That Franklin was fond of the ladies, and
the ladies fond of him despite his advanced age and infirmities, only added to
his mystique and charm. And the fact that Franklin taught himself to speak
fluent French before taking the job endeared him to a nation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Following is an excerpt taken from chapter four of <b>A
Matter of Honor. </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">It depicts a meeting
between Benjamin Franklin and Charles Gravier, Count of Vergennes and the
French Foreign Minister.. Franklin was trying to persuade Vergennes to forge a
formal military alliance with the United States.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9wdDIZNU0QKPs_djFQ6yI3aW-DBITqXFMkVl7_HE2c8__Ln_l1I9suuFqCbPm2p9tUMI8v-B0Bhmx-LZuVsH5wUyyb9lTw6dqKcAc_dvYs943bB4mZpUZaS9JGIwRgF8DLS-WrMZL5l9o/s1600/Antoine_de_Favray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9wdDIZNU0QKPs_djFQ6yI3aW-DBITqXFMkVl7_HE2c8__Ln_l1I9suuFqCbPm2p9tUMI8v-B0Bhmx-LZuVsH5wUyyb9lTw6dqKcAc_dvYs943bB4mZpUZaS9JGIwRgF8DLS-WrMZL5l9o/s200/Antoine_de_Favray.jpg" width="162" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Charles Gravier <br />Count of Vergennes</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“My
friends,” he said across the table to Vergennes and his three assistants, “you
may be assured that the United States government appreciates all that France
has done and continues to do on its behalf. Your supplies and support have
maintained our army in the field. Without them, all might have been lost. As to
France recognizing our independence, it is an unparalleled blessing to be
applauded by free men everywhere who believe and put their trust in the ideals
and principles espoused by our revolution. Even if she were to do nothing
further, France has earned the eternal respect of a grateful nation.”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">As one,
the four French officials inclined their heads forward.</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“But,
gentlemen,” Franklin continued, “I must explain the realities of our situation.
America can win this war against Great Britain. But to achieve victory we need
armies, not just arms; ships of the line, not just frigates and dispatch
vessels; field cannon, not just muskets. In short, what America requires is a
nation in open alliance with her, a great nation seeking to fulfill her own
destiny and claim her rightful place on the world stage.”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">Vergennes
nodded sympathetically. </span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“Well
spoken, Dr. Franklin. Your words are heart-felt and inspirational. You have my
promise and the promise of my king that France will continue to do everything
in her power to support your revolution. Your enemy is our enemy. But as I have
said, forging a military alliance between our two countries will take time.”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“We may
not have that time,” Franklin responded. He gave Vergennes a hard look, his
tone taking on a sudden sense of urgency blended with a hint of rebuke. “Are
you aware, sir, that my fellow commissioners and I were approached yesterday by
Lord Stormont?” He was referring to the British ambassador to France.</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“No,
sir, I am not,” said Vergennes, caution entering his voice. “Might I ask the
reason for this approach?”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">Franklin
shrugged. “From what I understand, the British are now prepared to concede to
us everything we sought before the revolution began: home rule; our own
parliament making our own laws and taxes; our own prime minister. A separate
country from England, in effect, bound together with her by a common heritage
and love of liberty, not to mention mercantile and military interests. A very
intriguing proposal, I must say. Totally unexpected.”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">Vergennes
shifted uneasily in his chair. “Why do you think the British are offering
this?”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">Franklin
held up his hands exactly as Vergennes had done. </span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“The
British want peace, it seems. More to the point, they no longer want war with
America. We are speaking today of national interests, are we not? Apparently,
Great Britain has come to a better realization of where her national interests
might lie.”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“You
would accept such an offer?” Vergennes demanded, aghast.</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">Franklin
shrugged a second time. </span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“It is
not for me to accept or decline any offer, sir. I am but a humble printer asked
to speak on behalf of my country. Congress must decide. And Congress will act,
I suspect, based on what it perceives our national interests to be. In the same
way France must now act.” </span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2"><span style="color: black;">Vergennes pursed his lips, his mind apparently absorbed in
a chessboard on which</span> the might of the British Empire was combined with
the resources and latent power of the United States in a military and
mercantile alliance that would checkmate Britain’s ancient enemy, France. </span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“Thank
you for sharing this information with me, Doctor,” Vergennes said, unable to
conceal an edge to his voice. “Be assured, I will use it to our mutual
advantage. In the meantime, may I beg your indulgence in keeping this overture
confidential?”</span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2">“I shall try, sir.
But I cannot guarantee results. As I have said many times, three men may keep a
secret, if two of them are dead.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="A2">As it turned out, the overture from Lord
Stormont was real, and Franklin used it to his maximum advantage. Soon
thereafter, France entered into a formal military alliance with the United
States and the war was won. Had Franklin failed in his mission, many Americans
today might still be speaking with a British accent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="A2"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="A2"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo Credits: </span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="A2"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">1. USPOD 13-cent American Bicentennial stamp issued in 1977 for the 200th anniversary of the surrender of General John Burgoyne (1723-1792) (British commander} to General Horatio Gates (1726–1806) (US commander) at Saratoga.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">by Serjmooradian at en.wikipedia [Public domain], from Wikimedia Commons.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">2. Benjamin Franklin by Joseph-Siffred Duplessis [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">3. Charles Gravier Count of Vergennes and French Ambassador, in Turkish Attire; oil on canvas By Antoine de Favray (Pera Museum) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-86506886446519859912012-02-22T08:31:00.000-06:002012-02-22T08:31:56.558-06:00Royal Navy Prisons and Prison Ships<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Throughout history, man’s inhumanity to man has perhaps best
been exemplified by the brutal conditions to which prisoners of war have too
often been subjected. Whether due to physical torture or psychological terror,
the end result for many prisoners has been either death or a survival that
would make death seem a better alternative.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiat1f9i5OtZ7eIZmlswbH-IOCTsfK8v4GdSGjLdcUaZrLkAbqdDU3ax_aAlaJP6Xuj7aDWjyzLFJThkoxC6WtfWXOhlbQ5NS3BLxQGQM8dKS0U75g-kQ3QAXSUNUD4u2Ktl2tjMwMk-x64/s1600/galley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiat1f9i5OtZ7eIZmlswbH-IOCTsfK8v4GdSGjLdcUaZrLkAbqdDU3ax_aAlaJP6Xuj7aDWjyzLFJThkoxC6WtfWXOhlbQ5NS3BLxQGQM8dKS0U75g-kQ3QAXSUNUD4u2Ktl2tjMwMk-x64/s1600/galley.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Interior of the HMS Jersey</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Few places in history have harbored worse conditions for prisoners
than did New York during the Revolutionary War. Since New York served as the principle British base in North
America during the conflict, it was here that the most gut-wrenching atrocities
were perpetrated. This is not to suggest
that Americans were saintly in their treatment of British prisoners of
war. It is simply to say that the
historical record on the British side is far more revealing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The principle reason why the British treated American
prisoners so poorly is because they did not recognize captured Americans as
prisoners of war. Since to their
minds the revolution was a traitorous act, American rebels captured by the
British deserved to die a traitor’s death. What happened to these individuals as a consequence of
falling into British hands was of no great concern to either the British
military or British citizenry. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBkvA4DGxsl8iEgDLLD_BttlDYrt73rtGzgeilTtpjLxBXeIW7dofWU4TtKIz2Zp-PoYcRNiXmyL85yxQujsoQ1mEbdJyndEIxqS6n-Iwd4mfBrx6EUQOjKtgappj4oqcQBhGn2S8mpyzz/s1600/HMS+Jersey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBkvA4DGxsl8iEgDLLD_BttlDYrt73rtGzgeilTtpjLxBXeIW7dofWU4TtKIz2Zp-PoYcRNiXmyL85yxQujsoQ1mEbdJyndEIxqS6n-Iwd4mfBrx6EUQOjKtgappj4oqcQBhGn2S8mpyzz/s320/HMS+Jersey.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HMS Jersey</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
British prisons in America were mostly in old decrepit ships
known as “prison hulks,” the worst of which was HMS <i>Jersey</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, a former 60-gun fourth rate ship of the line that
was dismantled at the start of the war. Save for a fortunate few who managed to
escape its clutches, being sentenced to this horrific hulk of oak was
tantamount to a death sentence. Stripped
of its spas and rigging and lower decks, </span><i>Jersey</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> was anchored in Wallabout Bay (later to become the
site of the Brooklyn Navy Yard). Once
hauled aboard, captured American sailors and soldiers were shoved below into a
black hole of purposeful neglect and untold misery. On average, eight American prisoners died each day in </span><i>Jersey</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, their bodies picked up each morning by a boat and
taken ashore to the mud flats for a quick and unceremonial burial.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
During the course of the rebellion, 11,500 men and woman
died aboard these prison hulks, more than twice the number of Americans who
died in every battle of the Revolution combined. On one prison hulk, the <i>Whitby</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, desperate prisoners set the ship ablaze, preferring
a quick death by fire to a slow and painful death by starvation. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In England, American prisoners were treated somewhat better,
in large part because they normally shared a compound with French prisoners. Great Britain was also at war with
France at the time, and captured French military personnel were awarded prisoner
of war status. One such prison is profiled in <b>A Matter</b><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span><b>of Honor</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">, Volume I of the Cutler Family Chronicles. The compound is Old Mill Prison in Falmouth, England, and it
is here that protagonist Richard Cutler is incarcerated following his capture during
the raid on Whitehaven. (See a
previous blog, <i>Raid on Whitehaven</i></span>.) In Old Mill he meets fellow prisoners and future naval
heroes Silas Talbot, the second captain of USS <i>Constitution,</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> with whom Richard serves briefly in <b>The Power and
the Glory </b></span>(published October 2011 by the Naval Institute Press), and
Richard Dale, commodore of the first Mediterranean squadron in <b>A Call To
Arms (</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">to be published in October 2012). Following is an excerpt from chapter
seven:</span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal;">
<span class="A2">“Diversions from
soul-dulling drudgery were created by bored men and mandated by their morose
conditions. Whittling had become a
popular past-time, an activity encouraged by wardens who ensured that ample
supplies of wood were made available around the inner yard. They even gave prisoners, upon request,
small knives with blunted tips to use for whittling. Such curios as model ships, ladles, and makeshift mallets
were sculpted from wood and sold to local citizens visiting Old Mill on Sunday
afternoons. Whatever coins the
prisoners received was more often than not snapped up by other locals hawking
their wares in every corner of the compound. Barter was also a mainstay of commerce. In exchange for a toy pistol Richard
had fashioned from a slab of oak, an elderly woman agreed to post a letter he
had written to his family in Hingham [Massachusetts], telling them simply where
he was and that he was in good health. She was a kind and caring woman, for she had paid good money for an
object that any discerning eye would agree was a poor replica of a pistol. Richard felt certain she would actually
post the letter; whether it would ever reach Hingham was another matter.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa1" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="A2"> </span><span style="color: #221e1f;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not much to write home about, perhaps, but one has a hard
time imagining local citizens and merchants of New York fancying a row out to the
prison ship <i>Jersey</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> on a summer Sunday
afternoon, to buy or sell anything.. </span></div>William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-39202150797155482002012-02-07T18:38:00.000-06:002012-02-07T18:38:32.180-06:00Christianity vs. Islam, 1788 vs. 2012<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>812</o:Words>
<o:Characters>4631</o:Characters>
<o:Lines>38</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>9</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>5687</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>11.1539</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotShowRevisions/>
<w:DoNotPrintRevisions/>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN7JuGRwEvdPI0mHpwjdsJ3Rf9h_JM0H8TLf7DIIMBQ9fQMGpBRs1KMrARKtTzt62MaXWEzHRwNwhZHNxdXdK7zPw5vrAhENZfmtemxcUHqEK1ycw4AJKuzNtX5_HYjm9iXMgQCuKZaX8K/s1600/barbary-coast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN7JuGRwEvdPI0mHpwjdsJ3Rf9h_JM0H8TLf7DIIMBQ9fQMGpBRs1KMrARKtTzt62MaXWEzHRwNwhZHNxdXdK7zPw5vrAhENZfmtemxcUHqEK1ycw4AJKuzNtX5_HYjm9iXMgQCuKZaX8K/s320/barbary-coast.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barbary Coast</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The struggles between Christians and Muslims have been gong
on for centuries. So what have been the central issues involved in these
struggles and how far have we come during the past two centuries in addressing
them? Below is one perspective provided by a conversation between Richard
Cutler, the main protagonist in the Cutler Family Chronicles, and Jeremy
Hardcastle, a post captain attached to the Royal Navy’s Mediterranean Squadron.
Richard is dining with his brother-in-law in the after cabin of HMS <i>Invincible</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, Jeremy’s 64-gun third rate ship-of-the-line, prior
to Richard’s cruise to the Barbary Coast of North Africa in the schooner </span><i>Falcon</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> to rescue his brother Caleb and his shipmates from
captivity in Algiers. The dialogue is extracted from chapter six of <b>For Love
of Country</b></span>, Volume II of the Chronicles.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“There are essentially three points you need to understand,”
Jeremy said, settling into an explanation that Richard suspected had by now
become quite familiar to him. “I’ll try to keep them brief and simple -- though
admittedly there is precious little about our Muslim friends that fits
comfortably under either of those terms. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“First, you must recognize that Muslims do not believe that
what they are doing violates civil or Islamic law. To the contrary, their
religion encourages a holy war, or jihad, against non-believers. That most
definitely includes you and me, and everyone else who does not pay homage to
the prophet Muhammad or follow the Koran, the Islamic sacred book that Muslims
accept as the word of God dictated to the Prophet. So you see, all this has a
religious undertone to it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“However – and this is my second point -- while religion is
important to the Muslim mind, its role is secondary in affairs of State. Put
another way, what to you and me is piracy on the open seas is, to the dey (of
Algiers) and his council, simply good business. The tribute he receives from
European powers to protect their shipping in these waters, and the ransoms he
receives for the release of captured sailors, are critical to the economy of
Algiers and the other Barbary States.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So the dey not only supports acts of piracy, he directs
them.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Just so. And I might add that he earns a pretty penny in
the process: one-fifth of every tribute paid, one-fifth of every ransom paid,
one- fifth of the value of every foreign cargo seized. The captain and owners
of the corsair receive half, and her crew and soldiers divide up the balance. A
rather tidy arrangement, isn’t it? Does it happen to remind you of anything?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Privateering?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well done. Bravo. As I recall, during our recent squabbles
your privateers were quite active in the Atlantic and Caribbean doing precisely
what Barbary corsairs are doing today in the Mediterranean.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s hardly a fair comparison, Jeremy,” Richard protested.
“America was at war with England at the time. Every nation accepts privateering
as a legitimate activity in times of war.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ah, there’s the nub of it. You’ve put your legal finger
right on it. Brilliant.” Jeremy raised his glass in a silent toast. To
Richard’s confused expression he explained: “To you and me, Richard, and to
everyone else of a Western mind, peace exists until a state of war is declared
between two nations. Muslims, however, tend to look at things a bit
differently. They believe that a state of war exists <i>ipso facto</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> with an infidel country until a temporary peace has
been declared with that country. Such a notion has its roots in Islam, since
Islam is forever fighting what Muslims believe is a holy war against
non-believers. That’s just my opinion, of course. You’ll not find that in the
Koran. And incidentally, the purpose of jihad is not strictly to convert
non-believers by force. It is rather to remove obstacles to their conversion to
Islam. To achieve that goal, force often becomes necessary.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Richard contemplated that. “And a temporary peace can only
be declared if and when another nation pays a financial gift, or tribute, to
the Barbary State?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Exactly so.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We call that blackmail in America, Jeremy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We call it blackmail in England too, Richard. But to repeat
myself, the Muslims don’t see things our way. Mind you, the dey does not desire
peace with every nation, only the most powerful ones, such as England. The
others he’d prefer to prey upon, and take his profit from their cargoes and
sailors. Cheers.” Jeremy drained his glass, gripped the bottle, and after
glancing over at Richard’s half-filled glass, filled his own. “And by the bye,
you may be interested to know that in Arabic, the word ‘corsair’ does not mean
‘pirate’ as many people believe. It means ‘privateer’.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Richard settled back in his chair.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What’s your third point?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sorry?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Your third point. You said there were three points I need
to understand.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So I did. Let me see…I should let up a bit on the wine…Ah
yes. My third point is simply that taking innocent people for slaves has been
going on for centuries, by Christians and Muslims alike. Barbary corsairs have
raided the coasts of Ireland and England and as far north as Iceland to cart
off and sell off whoever and whatever they can. Britain has returned the favor
by raiding villages in North and sub-Saharan Africa, and making slaves of
Berbers, Moors, and Negroes. France, Spain, Holland, you name it, they have all
followed our example. As have you chaps over there in the colonies, quite
enthusiastically I might add. So you see, Richard, we are <i>all </i><span style="font-style: normal;">guilty in the eyes of God – or Allah, if you prefer.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is one man’s perspective, of course, but it nonetheless
is a perspective worth noting?</div>
<!--EndFragment-->William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-65231643627010056532012-01-22T18:14:00.000-06:002012-01-22T18:14:04.547-06:00The Strategic Importance of Malta<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>510</o:Words>
<o:Characters>2907</o:Characters>
<o:Lines>24</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>5</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>3570</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>11.1539</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotShowRevisions/>
<w:DoNotPrintRevisions/>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVb6lnCRMjjiRBakoPOFUIWE9XXRu_f0cDJxxVI6q1kvk2qyRk3ZqdVmyvmteN7vdfNQShjisVRfLKJMAdVZfYbvpAW3Bo0kvcWDHPh2eC5YOl5zmhQfw11lbPmJdQUrWRpfH7spdQqWtz/s1600/Napoleon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVb6lnCRMjjiRBakoPOFUIWE9XXRu_f0cDJxxVI6q1kvk2qyRk3ZqdVmyvmteN7vdfNQShjisVRfLKJMAdVZfYbvpAW3Bo0kvcWDHPh2eC5YOl5zmhQfw11lbPmJdQUrWRpfH7spdQqWtz/s320/Napoleon.jpg" width="198" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Emperor Napoleon <br />in His Study at the Tuileries<br />by Jacques-Louis David, 1812</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Located at the geographical center
of the Mediterranean Sea, fifty miles south of Sicily, the tiny island of Malta
(less than 10% the size of Rhode Island) has for centuries held a strategic
importance far greater than its hundred-twenty square mile area might suggest.
Catholic to its core – St. Paul himself ministered on the archipelago after
being shipwrecked there -- Malta had teetered back and forth at the epicenter
of a seemingly endless struggle between Greeks and Romans, Phoenicians and
Turks, and Arabs and Spanish for supremacy in the Mediterranean. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
In 1551, Barbary pirates landed on
Gozo, an island adjacent to Malta, and took the entire population of 5,000 men,
women and children back to North Africa as slaves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twelve years later, the Knights of Malta, led by Frenchman
Jean Parisot de la Valette, successfully repelled an assault by a vast Ottoman
fleet that nonetheless succeeded in causing considerable damage to the island
and its defenses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor did a treaty
between Spain and the Ottoman Empire in the late 1700s bring any sort of reprieve
to the long-suffering Maltese people. In 1798, on his voyage to conquer Egypt
with his "Army of the Orient," Napoleon Bonaparte seized possession of Malta
and left behind a sizable garrison under the command of a trusted commander, General
Claude-Henri Belgrand de Vaubois. The general’s mission, Bonaparte publicly declared,
was to hold at all costs an island so vital to French interests and supply
lines he would rather keep it out of British hands than any village in France. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
As profiled in <b>A Call To Arms</b><span style="font-weight: normal;"> (Volume IV of the Cutler Family Chronicles to be released
in October by the Naval Institute Press.), "Vaubois’s tenure on Malta proved to
be ephemeral. Reinforced with weapons and manpower furnished by the kingdom of
Sicily, the citizens of Malta, outraged by the French Republic’s hostility to
Catholic doctrine, rose up in defiance. Their revolt was enthusiastically supported
by the Royal Navy, which blockaded the islands and brought its unique blend of
firepower to bear against the French. In 1800, to show their appreciation for
British assistance and to protect themselves in the future from would-be molesters,
the leaders of Malta formally petitioned the government of King George the
Third to grant their island royal dominion status. Sir Alexander Ball, a former
British naval officer much beloved by the Maltese, graciously accepted on
behalf of His Britannic Majesty. Soon thereafter, Horatio Lord Nelson, Vice
Admiral of the Blue and commander-in-chief of British forces in the
Mediterranean, declared Grand Harbor at Valletta – one of the finest deep-draft
harbors in the world – the new headquarters for the Royal Navy’s Mediterranean
Fleet."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
In 1803, Lord Neson invited
Commodore Edward Preble, commander of the U.S. Navy’s Mediterranean Squadron,
to use Valetta as his base from which to wage war against Tripoli.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Preble politely declined the offer,
preferring for his purposes the harbor of Syracuse on the island of Sicily.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<u>Postscript</u>:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After playing a significant role during
World War II due to its proximity to both Allied and Axis shipping lanes, Malta
achieved its independence in 1964, but with Queen Elizabeth II retaining the
title of Queen of Malta and remaining as de facto head of State.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A governor-general acting in her
interests wielded administrative control over the island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1971, Malta declared itself a republic
within the British Commonwealth of Nations, with an elected president as head
of State.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-52108537284001470212012-01-02T10:40:00.000-06:002012-01-03T09:00:39.905-06:00Terror in Whitehaven, 1778<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMorECh5a_akpw-rCUALCa9svZZ13w5J99yLtjO8yWG7IkpwFCeiTFC6_r1Hj6dS8ABi9hSp1L4lz9ggdzPeo00HCFXdLduNNJI1BnKPp3dp1LJILuJ6CbGzC3ntTduPThikcxzOHr9rhp/s1600/JonesRaidjpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMorECh5a_akpw-rCUALCa9svZZ13w5J99yLtjO8yWG7IkpwFCeiTFC6_r1Hj6dS8ABi9hSp1L4lz9ggdzPeo00HCFXdLduNNJI1BnKPp3dp1LJILuJ6CbGzC3ntTduPThikcxzOHr9rhp/s320/JonesRaidjpg.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Attack on Whitehaven<br />painting by Col. Charles Waterhouse</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In the 1770's the town of Whitehaven was one of England's busiest seaports. Located near the shores of the Irish Sea, it looked out upon the Solway Firth that comprised the westernmost boundary between England and Scotland. Because Whitehaven was near where John Paul Jones was born and raised in the Scottish Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, it was where Jones decided to launch his one-ship invasion of England. Although this raid was strongly opposed by most of his officer corps, especially by First Lieutenant Thomas Simpson, it was sanctioned by a host of American dignitaries, including America's emissary in Paris, Benjamin Franklin.<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN9Z18xEC_9M4RA3rpo8X_LMWk58_FDLZOohtrbxOTgUqqoayHmz2YAbtz6NRjigfOjZvFbIgzGX5HFCbCPHszhyrokcXXDpG2a00Q_AryjPLbZUB8T0ztA2HCCn9bQFWn-NdgcFyZz-70/s1600/JPJ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN9Z18xEC_9M4RA3rpo8X_LMWk58_FDLZOohtrbxOTgUqqoayHmz2YAbtz6NRjigfOjZvFbIgzGX5HFCbCPHszhyrokcXXDpG2a00Q_AryjPLbZUB8T0ztA2HCCn9bQFWn-NdgcFyZz-70/s200/JPJ.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>John Paul Jones monument <br />in Whitehaven</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Just after midnight on April 23, 1778, Jones ordered two ship's boats lowered away from the weather deck of the Continental sloop of war Ranger. Thirty sailors and Marines clambered down into the boats. Jones objectives: to first spike the guns of the English fort protecting the entrance to the harbor and the firth, and then to set fire to the three hundred or so vessels nested together at anchor in the harbor -- most of them either coastal merchantmen or coal transports. If the fires spread to the town, so much the better. Jones had no military objectives. Whitehaven held no strategic importance to him or to anyone else. It was simply a town that Jones had sailed in and out of many times in his boyhood, and it was here that he proposed to strike fear and panic among the citizens of Whitehaven – and by extension, among the entire British nation.<br />
<br />
Despite a prolonged row ashore caused by shifting winds and a strong ebb tide, Jones realized his first objective. During the first inklings of dawn, he and his captain of Marines, Lt. Wallingford, entered the lightly garrisoned fort and spiked its cannon, temporarily disabling them. Jones, however, failed to realize his second objective, in part because the lanterns in both boats ran out of fuel sufficient to light a conflagration, and in part because a member of his raiding party, an Irishman, slipped away as dawn approached and ran along a harbor street of Whitehaven shouting out a Paul Revere-style warning. Only a single vessel, the collier Thompson, was set aflame, and the domino effect of one burning mast collapsing onto another mast did not materialize. Meanwhile, a fire alarm was sounded, Whitehaven's fire-fighting equipment was mobilized, and large numbers of townsfolk came running to the quays dressed in nightclothes and brandishing family weapons. Jones was forced to retreat to his two boats and back to Ranger, which he did without incident under the silence of the fort's spiked cannon.<br />
<br />
We Americans do not like to think of ourselves as perpetrating any overt act of terrorism at any time in our history. But the raid on Whitehaven was one such act. As stated above, it had no military objective, other than perhaps to draw ships of the Royal Navy away from the Channel in pursuit of Ranger. Its primary purpose was to spread panic among British citizenry and it succeeded in doing just that. Britons were not accustomed to having their country invaded, even by a single ship, and few people living long the coast could rest easily at night knowing that ship was prowling offshore, ready, willing and able to strike again. As Midshipman Richard Cutler responds to Captain Jones in Ranger's after cabin when asked for his opinion of the proposed raid in A Matter of Honor, "It's a bold plan, Captain, because it does not rely on success. American Marines landing on British soil will have its effect, no matter the outcome." As it turned out, he was right.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-78301762399045647132011-12-16T12:32:00.000-06:002011-12-16T12:54:40.063-06:00The Lore Of Port Royal, Jamaica<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3yYDjDIPOfPa0QRDaprtYJwMZLkGqrgTj_EUHFRbjkQvC3u7x1ocWkb-rwkcvdkf_gEprZjUrCFV51Aghrdhdg5R366OFRs2zeXHSeteIZ110KPafPXLl_tUEWolXParHRQ11kccD0RQU/s1600/Old_Port_Royal_-_Project_Gutenberg_eText_19396.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3yYDjDIPOfPa0QRDaprtYJwMZLkGqrgTj_EUHFRbjkQvC3u7x1ocWkb-rwkcvdkf_gEprZjUrCFV51Aghrdhdg5R366OFRs2zeXHSeteIZ110KPafPXLl_tUEWolXParHRQ11kccD0RQU/s320/Old_Port_Royal_-_Project_Gutenberg_eText_19396.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Illustration of pre-1692 Port Royal, Jamaica.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Port Royal,
Jamaica has a rich history. Founded in 1618, it is located at the end of a spit
of land at the mouth of Kingston Harbor.
From its earliest days it served as a refuge for English privateers preying
on Spanish treasure ships sailing home from the New to the Old World. When the British Parliament began
limiting the number of letters of marque – official documents that essentially
transformed a privately owned vessel into a government-sanctioned ship of war --
many privateers tossed aside the thin veil of legitimacy and resorted to outright
piracy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Whatever their
means of income, the wealth they amassed and liberally circulated in Port Royal
turned that commercial center into one of the gaudiest and most depraved ports-of-call
in the seven seas. To quote from <b>The
Power and the Glory, </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">the third volume of the
Cutler Family Chronicles: </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Richard Cutler
knew something of the history of Port Royal, as did most people familiar with
the West Indies. Situated at the
western tip of a long, thin spit of land shaped like an ostrich leg with an
Italy-shaped boot at its western end, it was, in its heyday in the late 1600’s,
the largest, richest and most debauched British municipality in the Western
Hemisphere, justly earning its dubious distinction as “Sodom of the West
Indies.” With an economy heaped in
gold bullion plundered by English privateers off Spanish treasure fleets, Port
Royal served as a safe-haven for pirates, buccaneers, cutthroats, and other
low-lives keeping intimate company with the thieves, whores and other
opportunists keen to pick a farthing or a florin from an unsuspecting tar dead
to the world on a alehouse floor or in a dark alley rife with the stench of
human waste and proliferation. In
1680, Port Royal was said to host a tavern for every ten residents. Inside those taverns, or on the streets
outside, prostitutes brazenly plied their wares, their oft-used bodies
tantalizing pie-eyed sailors too long away at sea. </div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3D0WV0jzQRNrFYz-Xs6_ilMrKvykw17cyDIIVbNeF1ATeWnJheoP2Ao-NItnuA0pWnuL6f5cVRAThb7jIagE5HGKdSxziERLQsn5FirGcglHpIdtZpXo8XdByU-ivhF6SNpGDF4DT6dw/s1600/MorganHenry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3D0WV0jzQRNrFYz-Xs6_ilMrKvykw17cyDIIVbNeF1ATeWnJheoP2Ao-NItnuA0pWnuL6f5cVRAThb7jIagE5HGKdSxziERLQsn5FirGcglHpIdtZpXo8XdByU-ivhF6SNpGDF4DT6dw/s200/MorganHenry.jpg" width="183" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry Morgan, Pirate of the <br />
Caribbean, 18th century lithography.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Tottering at the
tip of the societal pyramid, the town’s few respectable citizens – merchants,
mainland planters, an Anglican priest or two -- pooled their resources and
appointed Henry Morgan, the renowned buccaneer and sworn enemy of propriety and
Puritanism, as lieutenant governor.
It was a seemingly insane gamble that paid off. Elevated from the base to the apex of
society, Morgan found religion and set about to clean up the unholy mess,
publicly hanging many of those with whom just a few weeks before he had been in
cahoots. His efforts, however,
proved too little, too late. At
eleven forty-two in the morning of June 7, 1692, in what was widely perceived
as divine punishment for its manifold sins and wickedness, Port Royal was
rocked to its core by a violent earthquake that sent much of the city sinking,
Atlantis-like, into the sea. Those
few who managed to survive the holocaust fled across the bay to the mainland,
where, in collaboration with the sugar planters and wealthier merchants already
living there, they established a new commercial center. With the devastation of Port Royal
fresh in their minds, these citizens of Kingston, as the new community came to
be called, lived and worked and prayed as paragons of sobriety and Christian morals
– until memories faded. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
What remained of
Port Royal, meanwhile, was appropriated by the Royal Navy and re-built as its
flagship base in the West Indies.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
At the end of the
eighteenth century, as the United States and France waged an undeclared war
known to history as the Quasi-War, the Royal Navy opened all of its West Indian
bases, including its flagship base at Port Royal, to the fledgling American
navy. Why? Because as Rear Admiral Horatio Lord
Nelson famously explained to My Lords of the Admiralty, “Every American gun
aimed at a French warship is one less English gun aimed at a French warship.” Such good feelings between the United
Sates and Great Britain were to extend into the first four years of the
1800’s. After that, relations
deteriorated, due to England’s fight for national survival against Napoleon and
the commercial war in which the United States found herself inevitably entangled. Despite the war raging in Europe and subsequent events, Port
Royal retained its vitality (if not its depravity) until 1905, when Great
Britain closed what was once one of its premier navy yards in the Western
Hemisphere. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span></div>William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3684511779197088549.post-4426644244670399662011-12-10T08:17:00.001-06:002011-12-10T17:25:51.440-06:00What Became of John Paul Jones?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hZUwHEdeSh3DPzLZv7evL6_4mYh8w_dfsz6QUh2U4jNup4WB9Ts3pNHsmSOFWvSm10-znpkwpM1mHWJwPKv2wUKREiO1ZIue86BgPN0pl_tW9M608g6LxSek_GbH0u9kO9ajZ5bDOHSj/s1600/194px-John_Paul_Jones_by_Charles_Wilson_Peale%252C_c1781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hZUwHEdeSh3DPzLZv7evL6_4mYh8w_dfsz6QUh2U4jNup4WB9Ts3pNHsmSOFWvSm10-znpkwpM1mHWJwPKv2wUKREiO1ZIue86BgPN0pl_tW9M608g6LxSek_GbH0u9kO9ajZ5bDOHSj/s1600/194px-John_Paul_Jones_by_Charles_Wilson_Peale%252C_c1781.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>John Paul Jones*</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Many people are aware that John Paul Jones was the one great naval commander to serve in the Continentail Navy during the American Revolutionary War. His exploits in British waters as captain of <strong><em>Ranger</em> </strong>and then of <strong><em>Bonhomme Richard</em></strong> are the stuff of legend.<br />
<br />
Fewer people are aware of his earlier life. Born on the southeast coast of Scotland in 1747, John Paul went to sea at an early age as a merchant sailor. As master of his own vessel in the 1770s, he killed a member of his crew, a mutineer. He claimed it was self-defense, but feared that a court in Tobago would find him guilty nonetheless. So he fled to America, added "Jones" to his name, and for several years managed the Virginia estate of his deeased brother. Frustrated by the life of a gentleman farmer, he decided to join the navy.<br />
<br />
Few people are aware, however, of what became of Jones after the Revolutionary War. He remained in Paris, a city much to his liking and where he was revered, until he grew restless for action. To quote from my novel <em>For Love of Country:</em><br />
<br />
"He [Richard Cutler] was referring to the rank of Rear Admiral bestowed upon Jones by her most Catholic majesty, the Tsarina of Russia, Catherine the Second. Three years ago, fed up with Congressional reluctance to invest in a navy, Jones had accepted the invitation of the Empress Catherine to join her Black Sea fleet in an attack against the crumbling Ottoman Empire. That fleet was under the titular command of a Romanov prince, Admiral Potemkin, vested with wresting Constantinople away from the Muslim Turks who had occupied the city for three centuries. Having liberated the Christians there, the Empress expected to receive, as just compensation for doing God’s work, a warm water port for her navy and an outlet to the Mediterranean Sea.<br />
<br />
Once aboard the Russian flagship, Jones quickly concluded that Potemkin had no future as a naval commander. It took considerable effort and tact to convince Potemkin that Russia would be better served were he to hand over the reins of commander-in-chief to Jones, advice the reluctant prince finally accepted. At the Battle of Liman, having secretly reconnoitered the enemy fleet the night before from a rowboat, Jones destroyed fifteen enemy warships while killing three thousand Turks and taking sixteen hundred prisoners – all at the cost of one Russian frigate and eighteen Russian sailors. When reports of the stunning victory reached the capital, all Russia rejoiced except for one man, Prince Potemkin, who, stung by what he deemed a usurpation of his rightful glory, publicly accused Jones of molesting a ten-year-old girl selling butter in a St. Petersburg. square. Disgusted and disillusioned, Jones left Russia when the charges were dropped and returned to Paris, where details of his adventures were widely published."<br />
<br />
Jones died in Paris in 1792. In 1906 his remains were brought aboard the USS <strong><em>Brooklyn</em></strong>. With three other cruisers acting as escorts, the "father of the U.S. Navy" sailed home on his final vovage. Today, his coffin rests, appropriately, in Bancroft Hall at the United States Naval Academy.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>*Painting by Charles Wilson Peale, c1781, published in the US before </i></span><div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>1923 and public domain in the US.</i></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>William C. Hammondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18124740313340096022noreply@blogger.com0