Month: February 2023

The Great Enterprise — Part 1

Introduction

The start date for history is that first moment in time when a human being recorded some past event — that, were it not for the record of that event, we could not know about it.  In Panama, that moment occurred in 1501, when Rodrigo de Bastidas began his exploration of the Isthmus of Panama’s east coast.  This is not to say that there were no human beings in Panama — only that we don’t know very much about them beyond the guestimates of archeologists and anthropologists.

Christopher Columbus’s fourth voyage in 1502 took him in a southeasterly direction from the upper region of Central America to the areas of Bocas del Toro, Veragua, the Rio Chagres and Portobello (named by Columbus).  In these early times, Spanish explorers referred to the Isthmus of Panama as Tierra Firme.

Several years later, the Spanish Crown granted Alonso de Ojeda and Diego de Nicuesa the right to colonize the area between the Gulf of Uraba (northern Colombia) and present-day Honduras.  The plan was to create a unitary administration somewhat similar to what later became Nueva España (New Spain (Mexico)).  Tierra Firme was later appointed to control over present-day Jamaica and several other Caribbean islands.  Vasco Nunéz de Balboa created the first permanent settlement, called Santa Maria la Antigua del Darien (later, Dariena) (northern Colombia) in 1513, from which he began his famed expedition — one that made him the first European to set eyes on the Pacific Ocean — which he named the South Sea.

It was Balboa’s fantastical descriptions of the isthmus that prompted King Ferdinand II to name this new  territory “Golden Castile.” Ferdinand appointed Pedro Arias Divila (also Pedrarias) (a veteran soldier) as its governor.  He arrived in the New World in June 1514 with 22 ships and 1,500 men.  In 1519, Pedrarias moved his capital to Castilla del Oro, founding a new location for a city he named Nuestra Señora de la Asunción de Panamá (Panama City).  Without any concrete evidence to support this contention, the origin of the word “Panama” is believed of native origin, its meaning “many fish.” Pedrarias was also instrumental in settling present-day Nicaragua.

Panama remained part of the Spanish Empire for over 300 years.  In the total of the Americas, no other region would prove to be as strategically or economically important.  Encroachment attempts by other European countries to seize Panama prompted the Spanish Crown to establish the Viceroyalty of New Granada in 1713 and Panama was placed under its protection.  Unfortunately, the capital of New Granada was located at Santa Fe de Bogotá — its remoteness was a major obstacle in effective governance.  Equally problematic was the competition between the Viceroyalty of Bogotá and the Viceroyalty of Peru — a somewhat infantile competition that lasted for over a hundred years.

The Spanish Empire reached its zenith under Habsburg rule in the late 18th century.  But as order unraveled in Europe in 1808, political instability in new world colonies increased as well.  It was the beginning of the Latin American independence movement that swept through Spanish-American colonies like a cholera pandemic.

New Granada finally achieved full independence from Spain in 1819, freeing Panama as well.  The citizens of Panama considered uniting with Peru or other Central American federations but eventually joined Gran Colombia at the urgings of the much-admired Simón Bolívar.  Panama declared its independence in 1821.

The Canal

The very notion of a man-made canal between the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean Sea originated in the 1500s when Señor Balboa envisioned a shortcut across the narrow isthmus.  But at the time, such an undertaking was deemed impossible — which is where the matter stood until around 1826 when U.S. Secretary of State Henry Clay considered the advantages of a canal across the newly independent Federal Republic of Central America.  By this time, of course, American engineers had bragging rights over the construction of the Erie Canal — demonstrating that men were not just dreamers, they were also doers. 

Secretary Clay’s idea (and those of others) was to cut across Nicaragua to the lake of the same name, which would, he supposed, provide a ready supply of water for a canal with locks to raise and lower ships for the journey from the Pacific and Atlantic.  Congress, however, turned Clay down because of Nicaragua’s political instability.  There was some talk about the likelihood that Nicaragua would separate into a half-dozen countries.  If this should happen, the instability would interfere with American ambitions.  In fact, political power in Colombia changed several times.[1]

In 1843, Great Britain announced its plans to embark on a canal project, focusing its attention on Panama.  Compared to Nicaragua, the distance in Panama coast-to-coast was less, but it too was a fleeting idea — one taken up by the famed engineer Ferdinand de Lesseps, builder of the Suez Canal.

In 1846, the United States signed the Mallarino-Bidlack Treaty with New Granada (Colombia y Panama) — a mutual cooperation treaty granting the U.S. significant transit rights within the isthmus, as well as certain military powers to suppress social conflicts and independence struggles targeting Colombia.  Over the years, the United States intervened in Panama many times — usually confronting rebellious civilians, peasant guerrillas, or independence struggles.

From the beginning of the California Gold Rush (1848), the U.S. spent the next seven years building a trans-isthmian railway, a project which (according to the Mallarino-Bidlack Treaty), granted the U.S. political and economic access to Panamanian affairs.  The province of Panama, of course, was part of New Granada — later an independent country of the same name.

In March 1885, Colombia reduced its military presence in Panama by reassigning troops to quell disturbances in Cartagena.  Panamanian insurgents, with fewer soldiers to shoot at them, took full advantage of the situation, and this, in turn, triggered U.S. intervention pursuant to the Treaty of 1846.  

Between 1869 – 1877, U.S. President Ulysses S. Grant ordered seven survey expeditions to study the feasibility of a cross-isthmus canal.  As travel and trade in the Western hemisphere increased, the desirability of a canal increased.  The distance between New York and San Francisco around Cape Horn, through treacherous seas, was 13,000 miles.  The journey took months.

The War of the Pacific

This conflict involved Chile vs. the Bolivia-Peruvian alliance that lasted between 1879 – 1884.  It was a territorial dispute that eventually increased the territory of Chile.  Initially, the argument involved Bolivia and Chile; Peru was dragged into the fray because of its alliances with Bolivia.  Chilean armed forces occupied the Bolivian port city of Antofagasta on 14 February 1879.

Oddly, hostilities weren’t declared between Chile and Bolivia until 1 March, and another month passed before Peru joined the fight.  Initially, the fight was a naval campaign with Chile struggling to establish a seaborne supply corridor for forces operating in the world’s driest desert.  Subsequently, Chile’s land campaign became overwhelming.  Bolivia withdrew after late May 1880, and Chilean forces occupied Peru’s capital in January 1881.  Afterward, the fight became a guerrilla war that simply wore down Peruvian forces to the point of agreeing to territorial concessions.  The three countries signed peace accords in 1883 and 1884.

The U.S. Navy had no part in this war, but this is not to say that there was no connection to the United States.  During the war, a lone U.S. Navy ship sat in the harbor at Callao, Peru — ostensibly to protect American interests during the war’s final stages.  The ship was U.S.S. Wachusett (commissioned in 1861), and its commanding officer was a somewhat mediocre seaman named Alfred Thayer Mahan.  Sitting in a foreign port isn’t a very exciting duty, although it was probably great fun for the crew.  As for Captain Mahan, he spent his time reading books in  the English Gentleman’s Club.  Historians tell us that it was at Callao that Mahan began to formulate his concept of sea power.

The Chilean Navy had recently acquired a protected cruiser from a British shipbuilder known as Armstrong-Mitchell in 1882 or 1883.  A protected cruiser is constructed in such a way as to provide maximum protection to that area of the ship most critical to its operation: the propulsion plant and its magazines.  The Chilean navy commissioned this ship Esmeralda and proclaimed her the swiftest and most powerfully armed cruiser in the world.  In 1885, Esmeralda appeared along the coast of Panama to observe U.S. activities ashore.  The ship was, in its time, an awesome sight, particularly when compared to the wooden-hulled ships of the line of the United States Navy.

President McKinley and Roosevelt’s Canal

In 1897, President McKinley became the 25th President of the United States.  He was an advocate of protectionist policies and tough diplomacy.  Within twelve months, McKinley took the United States to war with a major European power (although one on standing on its last Imperial legs).  The United States won the Spanish-American War (in record time), but that feat had more to do with Spanish incompetence than American might.  The war might have gone “the other way” had it not been for the U.S. Navy and Marine Corps … and one very talkative Assistant Secretary of the Navy whose name was Theodore Roosevelt.

The condition of the American navy following the Civil War was abysmal.  The Navy’s ships were rotting at the waterline.  The Navy and Congress were guilty of criminal neglect.  The Navy for not raising holy hell about the state of its ships, and Congress for failing to provide sufficient funds to maintain the fleet.  Worse, perhaps, the Navy didn’t have much of a mission, and its officers were retired on active duty.  In short, the U.S. Navy was a disgrace.

How bad was it, really?  In 1884, a French naval officer visited a U.S. Navy ship and complimented its captain for the ship’s brilliant display of antique weaponry — suggesting, of course, that an American ship of the line was a floating museum.  A year later, President Grover Cleveland’s first message to Congress was a scorching indictment of the U.S. Navy.  In the President’s opinion, what made the state of the Navy humiliating was that Italy, Spain, and Holland boasted a more powerful navy than the United States — and Chile had more powerful ships, as well.  Captain Mahan must have been deeply embarrassed.

The impetus for a modernized, stronger Navy capable of projecting U.S. power overseas was competition for colonial possessions, the creation of numerous coaling stations, and an 1889 war scare between the United States and Germany over territorial claims in the Samoan Islands.  Two years later, a Chilean mob attacked U.S. sailors on shore leave in Valparaiso, killing 2 and wounding 17. President Benjamin Harrison tried to take a hard line, but as soon as the President understood that Chile had a stronger navy than his own, he soon backed off.

In 1897, the U.S. Navy was not ready for war — simply “more ready” than the Army, and that wasn’t saying much.  The one service that was ready for war was the U.S. Marine Corps.  See also First Marine Battalion.

The one thing the U.S. Navy/Marine Corps did not lack in 1898 was a strategic vision.  Even though the U.S. and Spain had been at peace for over 80 years, Navy and Marine Corps thinkers imagined and contemplated war with Iberia and planned for it.  These men were keen observers of the conflict between Spain and the Cuban revolutionaries (1868 – 1878).

President McKinley, of course, was assassinated in 1901, which propelled Theodore Roosevelt into the presidency.  Arguably, the most important action President Theodore Roosevelt ever took in foreign affairs related to the construction of the Panama Canal.  It was controversial abroad —it was controversial at home.  Those who opposed the canal claimed that Roosevelt’s actions were unconstitutional.  The charge was possibly true — the denizens of Washington never worry about such things as violations of the U.S. Constitution.  Roosevelt, of course, was a man of action.

Driven by patriotic fervor, supported by the investments of a hundred-thousand investors and the expectation of great wealth, the Compagnie Universelle du Canal Interoceanique began work that would cross the Colombian isthmus of Panama and unite the Atlantic with the Pacific.  There was ample evidence that Lesseps had done his due diligence.

The Panama Railway had made in excess of $7 million in the first six years of its operations.  The railroad, which had cost upwards of 6,000 human lives to build, failed to dampen Mr. Lesseps’ enthusiasm.  The project would be a sea-level canal dug along the path of the Panama Railroad.   It would extend fifty miles in length (half as long as the Suez Canal), and it would cost around $132 million.  Lesseps estimated a project lasting 12 years.

The canal became a French project on 1 February 1881, but ultimately, it was another failed attempt.  Neither Lesseps nor any of his company was prepared for the harsh Central American environment.  Ultimately, Mr. Lesseps gave up 22,000 workers who died of one cause or another; all the money spent on the project was wasted, and the project ended in 1888.

Shortly after ascending to the presidency, Theodore Roosevelt spoke of the Panama Canal in a speech to Congress.  He argued enthusiastically, “No single great material work which remains to be undertaken on this continent is as of such consequence to the American people.” The President acted quickly.  In 1902, the United States reached an agreement to buy the rights to the French canal and property and its equipment for a sum of $40 million.  The U.S. then began to negotiate a treaty with the government of Colombia.  The U.S. Department of War would direct the excavation.  The American public sensed a scandal in the making — or worse, good money is thrown after bad.

In a short time, Colombia grew reticent in its negotiations.  Roosevelt and Panamanian business interests collaborated on the instigation of a revolution.  The battle lasted only a few hours because Colombian troops in the city of Colón accepted bribes to lay down their arms. On 3 November 1903, the Colombian province of Panama became the independent country of the same name.  And, since the U.S. initiated the hullaballoo in the first place, it assumed a parental interest in Panamanian affairs.  Members of the Roosevelt administration prepared Panama’s Constitution in advance of the “revolution,” the wife of a prominent Panamanian lobbyist sewed the country’s first flag (her husband became the Panamanian ambassador to the United States), and a treaty was signed that were favorable to American interests.  The United States promptly deposited $10 million to the Panamanian government.

(Continued next week)

Sources:

  1. Wicks, D. H. “Dress Rehearsal: United States Intervention on the Isthmus of Panama, 1886.  Pacific Historical Review, 1990
  2. Collin, R. H. Theodore Roosevelt’s Caribbean: The Panama Canal, the Monroe Doctrine, and the Latin American Context (1990)
  3. Graham, T. The Interests of Civilization: Reaction in the United States Against the Seizure of the Panama Canal Zone, 1903-1904.  Lund Studies in International Relations, 1985.
  4. Nikol, J. and Francis X. Holbrook, “Naval Operations in the Panama Revolution, 1903.” American Neptune, 1977.
  5. Turk, R. “The United States Navy and the Taking of Panama, 1901-1903.” Military Affairs, 1974.

Endnotes:

[1] The idea of a canal across Nicaragua did not end in the mid-1800s.  The United States ordered a survey in 1916 as a hedge against the unworkability of the Panama Canal, and the People’s Republic of China evaluated prospects in 2012.  Concern for the safety of Lake Nicaragua settled the matter — for now.

Mutiny and other fun in the Royal Navy

Introduction

The act of mutiny occurs whenever a group of people (especially soldiers or sailors) refuses to obey orders and (or) attempts to take control away from their lawfully appointed officers or senior NCOs. In all, there were 19 mutinies in the Royal Navy. Two of these occurred in 1797, known as the Spithead and Nore mutinies — the first in an increasing number of outbreaks of maritime radicalism in the so-called Atlantic passage.  At the first, the Spithead mutiny was peaceful and successfully addressed common economic grievances.  The Nore mutiny was just the opposite.

A Word About Marines

Historically, as a principal duty, marines serve as naval infantry.  The word is French for “by sea,” which is probably why the French have always referred to English troops as marines.  They always arrived by sea.

Initially, a ship’s crew assumed the tasks of marines at sea.  They were, first, sailors.  There was not much distinction between sailors and soldiers aboard ships because, for the most part, the crews of vessels fighting one another met in close combat, and it was a melee.  Sailors had to know how to fight.  But they also had to know how to fight once they reached their destinations. 

In antiquity, Roman soldiers fought on Roman combat ships as marines.  The Italians were the first to employ specially trained sailors to serve as naval infantry (c. 1200s).  The chief magistrate of Venice assigned ten companies of these specialized troops to a naval squadron and sent them off to address some disagreement with the Byzantines.  The mission went well for the Italians, and so they decided to retain such men and called them “sea infantry.” Soon after, the idea caught on with other countries.  The Spanish Marine Corps, founded in 1537, is the world’s oldest (still-active) corps of marines.  The Netherlands created its corps of marines in 1665.  In most cases, though, modern marines are specially trained sailors.

The British Royal Marines were the first naval infantry who were NOT sailors.  During the 1600s and 1700s, the Royal Navy would form regiments of marines by taking soldiers from the British Army and disbanding them when no longer needed on active service.  In 1775, the American Congress formed Marine battalions modeled on the role of their British counterparts — to serve as naval infantry.  Today, U.S. Marines are trained from the beginning of their commissions/enlistments to serve as naval infantry — although the Continental Congress stipulated in the recruitment of marines “that particular care be taken, that no persons be appointed to office or enlisted into said battalions, but such as are good seamen, or so  acquainted with maritime affairs as to be able to serve to advantage by sea, when required.”

The employment of Marines as general handymen and orderlies for flag officers of the Navy is no innovation.  So ingrained had this idea become by 1881 that a naval encyclopedia in that year defined the word “orderly” as “a Marine private detailed as a messenger for the commanding officer.” The admiral’s orderly, therefore, had to be a leatherneck — a bluejacket wouldn’t do.  And it became the role of marines, not engaged in combat at sea, to preserve order aboard ship.  In port, sentinel posts were established to prevent desertion — and at all times, marines kept an ear cocked for the faintest rumblings of mutiny.

Heinous Mutiny

Mutiny at sea was always problematic — and in 1797, what made it so was the fact that Great Britain was at war with Revolutionary France.  The Royal Navy was a primary component of the war effort.  There were also concerns among home offices — that the mutinies might be part of broader attempts at revolutionary sedition instigated by “troublemaking organizations,” such as the London Corresponding Society and the United Irishmen (see also: “Conclusion”).

Spithead was an anchorage near Portsmouth, and at anchor were sixteen ships under the command of Admiral Alexander Hood, Lord Bridport.  No country has done a marvelous job caring for its Navy’s ships or the men who handle them, and the United Kingdom is no exception.  And the men were not happy.  Between 16 April to 15 May, the men of the channel fleet protested against the living conditions aboard ship, they demanded more pay for their services, better food, increased shore leave, and compensation for sickness and injury.

On 26 April, a supportive mutiny broke out on the additional 15 ships, each of which sent delegates to Spithead to participate in negotiations.  It was probably about time for a review of pay accorded to the men of the sea.  Their pay tables dated to 1658.  The pay was still reasonable for those times — even through the Seven Years’ War.  But in the last decades of the 18th century, nations experienced high inflation rates.  Sailors with families to support were struggling to make do.

Another sore point for the Navy was the fact that, in recent years, the government granted pay increases to the British Army, to militia forces, and even to naval officers.  But another issue affecting morale — and perhaps the Royal Navy’s budget- was its new practice of coppering the hulls of its warships.  In 1761, coppering meant that combat ships no longer had to return to port as often to have their hulls scraped.  The additional time at sea significantly altered the sea service rhythm, yet the Admiralty had made no adjustments.  Senior officers were slow to grasp the difficulty of the deck-hands work.  Impressment was a common practice suggesting that some of the crew served against their will.

Finally, in the war with France, the British Admiralty announced a new quota system known as the Quod.[1]  More than one clever politician discovered that sending convicted criminals to serve with the Navy was convenient.  Generally, these “conscripts” did not mix well with a ship’s company.  Dissention aboard ship was one of the items on a marine’s to-do list.

The mutineers were led by elected delegates and tried to negotiate with the Admiralty for two weeks, focusing their demands on better pay, demanding an end to the so-called 14-ounce purser’s pound.[2]  And the men wanted to get rid of a few officers, as well.  No one mentioned flogging or impressment … but they could not abide an ass wearing an officer’s uniform.  Throughout the mutiny, the crews maintained their regular naval routines aboard their ships and their discipline, and they consented to allow some ships to leave Spithead for convoy escort duties or combat patrols and promised to suspend the mutiny and go to sea immediately if French ships were spotted heading for English shores.

Negotiations broke down over such issues as pardons for mutineers, and some minor incidents broke out with a few unpopular officers.  When the situation calmed down again, Fleet Admiral Richard Howe, 1st Earl Howe (brother of Major General Sir William Howe) intervened to negotiate an agreement to obtain a royal pardon for all crews, the reassignment of some unpopular officers, a pay raise, and abolition of the purser’s pound.[3]

The Nore Mutiny

The Nore is a long bank of sand and silt running along the south-central portion of England’s final narrowing of the Thames Estuary.  Until 1964, it was the seaward limit of the Port of London.  It was so dangerous that the world’s first lightship was established there in 1732.

Inspired by the example of their comrades at Spithead, the sailors at The Nore also mutinied an incident that began on 12 May 1797.  The sailors of HMS Sandwich seized control of the ship, and several other ships within call’s reach followed their example.  Other ships quietly slipped away despite gunfire from the ships in rebellion.  Scattered ships make it difficult to organize mutinies among other ships, but each involved vessel quickly elected its delegates.  The men of HMS Sandwich elected Seaman Richard Parker to serve as President of the Delegates of the Fleet.

Seaman Parker was a former master’s mate who was reduced in rank at a court-martial for insubordination and subsequently discharged.[4]  Life was hard for Parker in Exeter, and he fell into debt.  This situation caused the county council to nominate Parker for duty with the Navy, and he found himself as an ordinary seaman aboard Sandwich.  He had only recently joined the crew when the mutiny broke out.  Parker, an older and more experienced man, fully aware of the squalid conditions aboard Sandwich, took no part in the mutiny, but he did empathize with the crew, and he agreed to represent them with the officer commanding — even though he exercised no control over the actions of the mutineers.

Crewmen formulated a list of eight demands and, on 20 May 1797, presented them to Admiral Charles Buckner.  They wanted pardons, increased pay, and modifications of the Articles of War and demanded that the King dissolve Parliament and make immediate peace with France.  As one might imagine, the demands infuriated the Admiralty, which offered nothing in return except a pardon (and the concessions already made at Spithead) in return for an immediate return to duty.  By the first of June, mutinied ships formed a blockade of the Thames.

Captain Sir Erasmus Gower, commanding HMS Neptune in the upper Thames, put together a flotilla of fifty loyal ships and determined to use them to prevent mutineers from reaching the City of London.  It was essentially Gower’s intentions that made the mutineers at Nore begin to waiver, but not before they made the wrong decision to blockade London, which prevented merchant vessels from entering port.  Parker then decided to move the mutinied ships to France — which infuriated the regular English sailors and caused them to take back a few ships.

Among most of the mutineers at The Nore, if anyone was thinking about treason, it was only a few.  Most men simply wanted less squalid living conditions, better food, and better pay.  Parker issued orders to allow passage to merchant ships on the Thames but ordered the detention of the Royal Navy’s victualling ships.  Historians claim that Parker wanted the Admiralty to have a good impression of the mutineer’s intent; other academics argue that it was a bit more complex than that.  And, in any case, Parker was out of his depth.

After the successful resolution of the Spithead mutiny, the Admiralty was not inclined to make any further concessions, mainly as they felt some leaders of the Nore mutiny had political aims beyond improving pay and living conditions.  The rebellion fell apart when Parker signaled ships to sail to France.  When the mutineers (on most ships) observed the signal, they refused.   

It did not take long for the Royal Navy to convict Seaman Parker — of treason and piracy.  It also did not take the Royal Navy to hand him from the yardarm of Sandwich.  Shown at right is Parker’s death mask.

Following Parker on the yardarm were 29 other seamen.  An additional 29 went to prison.  Nine men received a flogging, and several more found themselves headed for the penal colony in Australia.  Most men, however, received no punishment — which until then was unheard of in the Royal Navy.

One tidbit: posting the watch

Ship’s crews stand their watches (periods of duty) according to the hour of the day.  In the days of sail, watches were divided into two sections: port and starboard.  Each of these was on duty for four hours, and then they were off duty for four hours.  One stroke of the bell indicates the first half hour of the watch.  An additional bell strikes for each succeeding half-hour.  Eight bells indicate the end of a four-hour watch.  Whenever the time calls for two or more bells, they are sounded in groups of two.

The first five watches

First watch: 20:00 to 00:00

Middle watch:  00:01 to 04:00

Morning watch:  04:01 to 08:00

Forenoon watch:  08:01 to 12:00

Afternoon watch:  12:01 to 16:00

Following the afternoon watch, the next four hours are divided into two “Dog Watches.” The first dog watch occurs from 16:01 to 18:00, and the second dog watch from 18:01 to 20:00.  The dog watch can be changed every day so that each watch gets a turn at eight hours of rest at night.  Otherwise, each crew member would be on duty for the same hours daily.

Before The Nore mutiny, Royal Navy vessels sounded five bells to signal the end of the last dog watch; after The Nore mutiny, five bells no longer signified the last dog watch because that was the signal aboard Sandwich to begin the mutiny.

Conclusion

There have seldom been what one might call “good feelings” between the English and the Irish.  The Society of United Irishmen was a sworn association in the Kingdom of Ireland formed after the French Revolution to secure “equal representation” of all the people.  In 1798, the society instigated a republican insurrection in defiance of the British Crown.  Espousing principles they believed had been vindicated by the American Revolution, and the French Declaration of the rights of man, Presbyterian merchants who formed the organization in Belfast vowed to make cause with their Catholic brethren.  In 1800, England abolished the Irish legislature, and everything went downhill from that point forward.

At the time of the Spithead and The Nore mutinies, British politicians assumed that the United Irishmen were behind these troubles as part of a plot to overthrow the British monarchy and establish in its place a British Republic.  This was not true, of course, but given their turbulent past, everyone (Irish or British) was prepared to believe it.

Sources: 

  1. Nalty, B.  Certain Aspects of Manpower Utilization in the Marine Corps: Historical Background.  Marine Corps Historical Reference Series, Headquarters, U.S. Marine Corps, 1959.
  2. Roulo, C.  Why Are Marines Part of the Navy?  U.S. Department of Defense, online publication.
  3. Manwaring, G. E.  The Floating Republic: An Account of the Mutinies at Spithead and The Nore in 1797.  Harcourt-Brace, 1935.
  4. Woodman, R.  A Brief History of Mutiny.  Carroll & Graff, 2005.

Endnotes:

[1] Introduced by Prime Minister William Pitt (the Younger) in 1795.  The system required every British county to provide a certain number of men for service in the Royal Navy.  The quota depended on the population of the counties.  In some cases, county commissions found it difficult to meet their quota, so they offered bounties to landsmen, which created some dissension among regular swabbies.  The system lasted through 1815, when the British decommissioned most of its navy.

[2] The purser’s pound was an arrangement where the ship’s purser was allowed to keep 2 ounces of food for every 16 ounces of food sold to the crew.

[3] Howe commanded HMS Baltimore during the Jacobite Uprising in 1745.

[4] Master’s Mate is no longer a rank in the British or American navies.  Originally, the master’s mate was an experienced senior petty officer who assisted the ship’s master but was not in line for an officer’s commission.  By the mid-18th century, though, this rate was a senior midshipman awaiting a commission to lieutenant.

Banastre Tarleton

Introduction

There are two Banastre Tarleton’s.  The first one — the real one — is part of British Army history and, of course, that of the American Revolution.  The second Banastre is an invention of Hollywood writers and every historian content to evaluate history through 21st-century rose-colored lenses.

I have no inside information about what goes on inside Hollywood production studios.  I simply know that whenever Mel Gibson begins a project having anything to do with British history, the British always come out looking horrible.  He did that with the film about William Wallace, which was more fiction than fact — and he did it with the film The Patriot, where he painted Cornwallis as dishonorable and Banastre Tarleton as a war criminal.[1]  Placing “entertainment” aside, if that’s what fictional history is, Gibson and others are teaching their American audiences revisionist history.  Given the current state of education in the United States, one may argue that Americans don’t need any help learning the wrong history.

Taking another look

Banastre Tarleton was born on 21 August 1754.  I’ve read that he was either the second, third, or fourth of seven children of John Tarleton, the former lord mayor of Liverpool, a money lender, a merchant, and a slave trader.  Banastre was fortunate to have a wealthy father — just not lucky enough to be his father’s first born son.  Although his father paid for his education at prestigious Oxford University, his was a rather undistinguished learning experience.  He seemed more interested in drinking, gambling, and consorting with loose women than studying.  When his father died in 1773, Banastre inherited £5,000, which he promptly squandered.  The purchase of his military commission was a gift of his mother, who promised her son that he’d seen his last monetary gift from the home front.

What kind of person was Banastre Tarleton?  For a young man raised in the home of a slave trader, we might expect that he developed a cold-hearted worldview.  In later life, as a member of Parliament, Tarleton rigorously defended the slave trade (upon which his family’s fortunes rested), and he was known to verbally attack abolitionist politicians.

Coronet Tarleton arrived in North America in 1776 and was assigned rather mundane duties of an administrative manner.  It did not take him long to run up another £2,500 of debt.  We may not have heard any more about Banastre Tarleton were it not for the stunning defeat of General John Burgoyne at Saratoga in 1777.

A twenty-one-year-old Banastre Tarleton sailed from Cork in December 1775 with Lord Cornwallis.  Cornwallis’s mission was to capture Charleston, South Carolina.  This expedition failed, but in the following year, Tarleton joined the main British Army under General William Howe in New York.  Coronet Tarleton was assigned to Colonel William Harcourt.[2]

Coronet Tarleton was part of a scouting party ordered to gather information about the movements of General Charles Lee in New Jersey.  On 13 December 1776, Tarleton surrounded a house in Basking Ridge and forced General Lee, dressed in his nightgown, to surrender by threatening to burn down the house.  Lee surrendered.

Subsequently, Tarleton’s campaign service in 1776 earned him the position of brigade major; he was barely 22 years old.[3]  He was promoted to captain on 13 June 1778, having served in several combat engagements — including the Battle of Brandywine and others (1777 – 1778).  One such battle was an attack on a communications outpost in Easton Township, Chester County, Pennsylvania, which was guarded by Captain Henry Lee III.  In this battle, the patriots repulsed the British assault.  Captain Tarleton was wounded in this action.

Burgoyne’s defeat at Saratoga led senior British commanders to shift their efforts to the southern colonies, where they believed Loyalists would help them to win the war.  To help accomplish that, General Sir Henry Clinton created a British Legion from among the communities of British loyalists.  Formed in July 1778, the Legion initially consisted of several small loyalist militia units from New York, placed into a single organization of mounted infantry, cavalry, and “flying” artillery.[4] 

In 1778, Tarleton was 24 years old.  His mission was to patrol, track, raid, assault, shock, and destroy enemy guerrilla forces.  Between 1778 – 1782, the British Legion participated in 15 separate combat operations — but, by every account, Tarleton completed his mission enthusiastically, efficiently, and ruthlessly … giving rise to the claim that the young colonel was guilty of war crimes.

Any British notion that southern loyalists would save the day was a substantial miscalculation because what the British had to contend with in the Carolinas was the backcountry Scots-Irish who had been pushing British buttons since 1740.

In 1778, these hard-headed people (and their offspring) had become rebel militiamen and guerrillas.  Colonel Tarleton’s attitude was that if these people were going to ruthlessly attack British formations and baggage trains, then they should be prepared for some ruthlessness in return.  To his credit, Tarleton’s legion was constantly in the saddle, far afield from regular garrisons.  They seized what they needed to sustain themselves — from the King’s subjects, which was only proper.  These rebels were, after all, committing their treason on the King’s land.

At most, Tarleton had around 500 men in uniform.  On average, it was probably closer to 300.  When the Legion needed more men, Tarleton’s officers recruited them from among the loyalist communities (and rebel deserters).  He motivated the men by convincing them that they were the British Army’s elite fighters.  They distinguished themselves by wearing green uniforms rather than redcoats.  Tarleton’s standing order to his men was to give the enemy “fire and sword.”  And that’s what they did.

Waxhaws

Charleston, South Carolina, fell to General Sir Henry Clinton’s British forces on 12 May 1780.  A column of around 380 patriot reinforcements known as the Third Virginia Detachment, serving under Colonel Abraham Buford, failed to reach the city before it’s capitulation.  Once they realized that the city had fallen, they withdrew.  Buford’s command involved two companies of the 2nd Virginia Regiment, 40 light dragoons, and two six-pound cannons.

Having taken the city, General Clinton prepared to return to New York, appointing his deputy, Lieutenant General Cornwallis, to assume command of the southern army.  Even though a week had elapsed when Cornwallis learned of Buford’s presence, he dispatched Colonel Tarleton to pursue him.  At that time, Tarleton’s command consisted of around 230 Legionnaires, reinforced by 40 men from the 17th Light Dragoon and a three-pound cannon.

Colonel Tarleton aggressively moved his men 150 miles rapidly, catching up with Buford on the afternoon of 29 May.  The area in which the two forces caught sight of each other lies along the border of North and South Carolina — an area known as the Waxhaws.[5]  Colonel Tarleton sent a message to Buford demanding his surrender.  Initially, Buford refused and ordered his baggage and weapons train to continue moving northward in all due haste.  He then formed a battle line in an open field across his route of march, placing his infantry in a single line with orders not to fire until the British approached within ten yards.

While approaching Buford’s position, Tarleton organized his force into three attacking columns.  He deployed 120 British dragoons on his right flank, intending to dismount his infantry to fire upon the Americans and pin them down.  His center column consisted of his elite force, regulars of the 17th Light Dragoons and Legionnaires to charge straight ahead, and a left flank column of 30 legionnaires under his personal command, intending to sweep the American right flank and drive for their baggage and reserves.  Tarleton retained his only cannon in reserve.

Colonel Tarleton ordered his attack as soon as its elements were in position.  Buford’s men, having been ordered to withhold their fire, were overwhelmed by the speed and aggressiveness of the British assault.  Tarleton’s three columns devastated the American defenders.  As quickly as it had begun, the battle was over.  British casualties were slight, with five killed and 14 wounded.  The American losses were 113 men killed and 203 wounded — with Colonel Buford escaping to safety.  When Buford was out of danger, he reported the engagement as a massacre of surrendered men.  Even now, the American Battle Trust refers to this engagement as the Buford Massacre.

Lieutenant Colonel Banastre Tarleton tells us a different story.  In A History of the Campaigns of 1780 and 1781 in the Southern Provinces of North America (1787), Tarleton tells us that after arriving at Camden, he obtained intelligence from local citizens that Colonel Buford had quit Rugeley’s Mills on 26th May and was marching in all haste to join a corps thought to be marching on the road between Salisbury and Charlotte town in North Carolina.  With this information, Tarleton moved vigorously to prevent the union of these troops.

Tarleton’s men reached Rugeley’s Mill in daylight and learned that the Continentals were in full retreat some twenty miles down the road toward Catawba.  Motivated by his enthusiasm to meet the enemy, Tarleton quickened his pace, sending Captain Kinlock ahead with a message to the American commander: surrender his force.  Buford turned back to meet the British foe.

By this time, heat and humidity had defeated many of the British cavalry and dragoons, men who were so worn out that they began to drop out of the formation and fall into the rear of the column.  This was the condition of Tarleton’s men as he approached the Americans — and the commander realized that his men did not have the energy for a prolonged engagement.  This is why Tarleton decided to attack the enemy as soon as possible — and to prevent reinforcements from reaching the American line.  At this moment, the only circumstance favorable to the British light dragoons was the known inferiority of the American cavalry.

At 3 o’clock in the afternoon, the advanced guard of the British charged a sergeant and four men of the American light dragoon and made them prisoners.  Colonel Buford readied his 380 men for action, forming them in a single line with a small reserve, and ordered his baggage and wagons to continue their march.

Tarleton formed his men for an attack with haste.  He assigned 120 mounted men to the right flank under Major Cochrane.  He ordered Cochrane to dismount 60 dragoons to gall the Americans’ flank.  He directed Captain Corbet and Captain Kinlock to charge the center, and he would lead 30 men to sweep the American right flank.

Thus far, Buford had not fired upon Tarleton.  When the British arrived within fifty yards of the American line, Buford ordered the riflemen to present — but their officers ordered them to hold fire.  In accordance with Buford’s intention, the Americans would only have one shot before the British were inside the line.

The American riflemen took their shot when the British were within ten yards.  Colonel Tarleton’s horse was shot, and he collapsed with the animal.  Tarleton quickly recovered, but his men, thinking he was shot, unleashed their rage upon the Americans, and Buford’s battalion was soon broken and “no quarter” delivered before Tarleton could regain control of this force.

When the Americans had taken their shot, Tarleton’s horse was shot, and he collapsed with his horse.  Tarleton quickly recovered, but his men, thinking he was shot, unleashed their rage upon the Americans, and the battalion was soon broken with no quarter delivered before Tarleton could regain control of his men.  Given the over-stimulation and vindictiveness of the legionnaires, the loss of American officers and men was significant.

The wounded (American and British) of both parties were collected with all possible dispatch and treated with equal humanity.  The American officers and soldiers who were unable to travel were paroled the next morning and placed at the neighboring plantations and in a meeting house not far distant from the field of battle: Surgeons were sent from Camden and Charlotte town to assist them, and every possible convenience was provided by the British.

To dispel the idea popular among some American historians that General Cornwallis countenanced “war crimes” in his command, he actually did not seem to have much patience for misbehavior among his soldiers.  In 1781, Lord Cornwallis rode to the front of Tarleton’s regimental column and ordered Colonel Tarleton to dismount his regiment and have his men and officers stand at attention by their mounts.

Tarleton, as we now know, was one of Cornwallis’ favorite officers.  Was he too lax with his men?  Perhaps.  Although, what he may have lacked in disciplinary judgment, he made up for in his enthusiasm and battlefield courage.  As his men stood at attention, Lord Cornwallis and several civilians walked down the line looking at each trooper, inspecting each face.  From time to time, Cornwallis and the civilians engaged in hushed conversations.  Finally, Cornwallis ordered his guards to seize two men — a private and a sergeant and pulled them out of the ranks.  The two legionnaires appeared before a court martial charged with rape and robbery.  Found guilty, Cornwallis had them hanged.

The British Army could be brutal.  Some will argue that harshness to influence discipline is part of military virtue.  Either the men are disciplined, or they are not.  No doubt, Colonel Tarleton was feeling uncomfortable as he observed his men swinging from the gallows.  General Cornwallis had warned his favorite officer to bring his legionnaires to heel because he believed they were playing fast and loose with proper decorum as representatives of His Majesty’s Army.

There is little doubt that Tarleton’s command was ruthless.  War is a ruthless business, and there can be no doubt that rebellious colonists were traitors to the Crown.  Tarleton was walking a tightrope.  How much ruthlessness is acceptable?  Where does one draw the line?

In South Carolina, Francis Marion (also known as the Swamp Fox) had long served as a British and later state militia officer.  Marion never served in command of a field army or participated in a major engagement, but his expertise in irregular (guerilla) warfare earned him a promotion to brigadier general.  Throughout the southern campaign, Colonel Tarleton did everything within his power to disrupt and, if possible, capture General Marion — without success.

Marion was a popular son of South Carolina, and he had no problem gaining the support and assistance of local citizens.  Tarleton, on the other hand, unapologetically took what forage he needed to support his men.  South Carolinians were less inclined to support the rash British dragoon.  It was a matter of culture: Tarleton treated the people of South Carolina for what they were — the King’s subjects.  In time, even the loyalists began to resent Tarleton’s haughtiness and became less inclined to offer any support.

Colonel Tarleton was instrumental in helping General Cornwallis win the Battle of Camden in August 1780.  He also defeated Thomas Sumter at Fishing Creek (Catawba Fords) but was less successful with Sumter at Blackstock’s Farm (November 1780).

Colonel Tarleton’s forces were virtually destroyed on 17 January 1781 by General Daniel Morgan at the Battle of Cowpens.  Tarleton and 200 men managed to escape the battlefield.  Colonel William Washington commanded the rebel cavalry when attacked by Tarleton and two of his men.  Washington stopped Tarleton by aggressively assaulting him with his sword and challenging him by saying loudly, “Where is now the boasting Tarleton?”

A young coronet of the 17th Dragoons, Thomas Patterson, rode up to strike Washington but was shot and killed by Washington’s orderly.  In this encounter, Washington wounded Tarleton in his right hand, and Tarleton returned the favor by shooting Washington, wounding him in the knee, and also wounding his horse.  Washington, incensed, pursued Tarleton for sixteen miles, finally losing sight of him at the Goudylock Plantation. 

In Conclusion

Banastre Tarleton was a gallant military officer — one who took his duties seriously, and perhaps, in some instances, too seriously.  But he was no war criminal, and he did not die in a hand-to-hand fight with Mel Gibson.  Tarleton returned to Great Britain and entered the world of politics.  His combat wounds served him well as a returning hero.  Not everyone agreed with General Tarleton’s account of the Southern Campaign, of course … proving that the British Army, like most other armies, are highly political.

In 1812, Tarleton was commissioned to full general.  He anticipated being appointed to command British forces in the Peninsular War, but that assignment went to Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke Wellington.  Instead, Tarleton held military command in Ireland and England.

Sources:

  1. Bass, R. D. The Green Dragoon, Sandlapper Publications, 2003
  2. Reynolds, W. R. Jr. Andrew Pickens: South Carolina Patriot in the Revolutionary War.  McFarland & Company, 2012.
  3. Scotti, A. J.  Brutal Virtue: The Myth and Reality of Banastre Tarleton.  Heritage Books, 2002.
  4. Wilson, D. K. The southern strategy: Britain’s conquest of South Carolina and Georgia, 1775–1780. University of South Carolina Press, 2005. 
  5. Raddall, T. H.  Tarleton’s Legion.  Collections of the Nova Scotia Historical Society, 1949.
  6. Tarleton, B.  A History of the Campaigns of 1780 and 1781 in the southern provinces of North America.  1787.  Kindle Edition.

Endnotes:

[1] Historian Michael Bryant states that the first use of the term “war criminal” occurred in 1906 in a book on international law, suggesting also that the concept existed much earlier than that.

[2] Coronet was the lowest commissioned grade of the British Cavalry, equivalent to modern-day second lieutenant.

[3] A brigade major is the chief of staff of a brigade.  It is a job position, not a rank; however, such men commonly held the rank of major (but also captain), but intentionally below the rank of lieutenant colonel who generally served as officers commanding subordinate battalions.  Brigades major provided detail concerning and executed the intentions of the brigade commander.

[4] Flying artillery was a new concept in 1778.  It involved fast-moving cavalry, swift movement of artillery, and mounted infantry (dragoons) formed from Caledonian Volunteers, West Jersey Volunteers, Captain Kinloch’s independent New York Dragoons, Philadelphia Light Dragoons, the Prince of Wales’s American Volunteers, and the 16th Light Dragoons.  To lead the Legion, Tarleton was advanced to lieutenant colonel and ordered to move his 250 cavalry and 200 dragoons to the Carolinas.

[5] A geographical region extending beyond both sides of the North and South Carolina border within Lancaster, Union, and Mecklenburg counties.

From Across the Sea

Introduction

Nearly everyone recalls that the Seven Years’ War (1756 – 1763) was a global conflict that involved most of Europe’s great powers.  It was primarily fought in Europe, in the Americas, and the Asian Pacific — but there were concurrent conflicts that included the French and Indian War (1754 – 1763), the Carnatic Wars (a series of conflicts in India’s coastal Carnatic region, 1744 – 1763), and the Anglo-Spanish War (1762 – 1763).

Opposing European alliances were led by Great Britain and France, both of which were seeking to establish global pre-eminence at the expense of the other.  France and Spain opposed Great Britain in Europe and overseas with land armies, naval forces, and colonial forces.  Great Britain’s ally, Prussia, sought territorial expansion in Europe and consolidation of its power.  Great Britain also challenged France and Spain in the West Indies — with consequential results.  Prussia wanted greater influence in the German principalities, and Austria wanted to regain control of Silesia and contain Prussian influence.

The conflict forced the realignment of traditional alliances (known as the Diplomatic Revolution of 1756), where Prussia became part of the British coalition (which included a long-time competitor of Prussia, the principality of Hanover — which was in personal union with Britain).[1]  At the same time, Austria ended centuries of conflict between the Bourbon and Habsburg families by aligning itself with France, Saxony, Sweden, and Russia.  Spain also aligned with France (1761).  Smaller German states joined the war or supplied mercenaries to the parties involved.

Additionally, Anglo-French conflicts broke out in their North American colonies in 1754, when British and French colonial militias and their respective Native American allies engaged in small skirmishes and later full-scale colonial warfare.  These colonial conflicts became a theatre of the Seven Years’ War when war was officially declared two years later.  In the end, France lost most of its land on the Continent.  Some historians claim that it was the most important event to occur in North America during the 18th century — prior to the American Revolution.[2]

Spain entered the war on the side of France in 1762, but the effort to invade British ally Portugal was unsuccessful.  As it turned out, Spain’s alliance with France was a disaster because the British gained footholds in Havana, Cuba, and in Manila, The Philippines.

Inside Europe, the area that generated most of the conflict was Austria’s desire to recover Silesia from Prussia.  This contest was resolved in 1763, but more importantly, the war’s end signaled the beginning of Great Britain’s rise to become the world’s foremost colonial and naval power.  Until after its revolution, France had no chance of becoming a supreme power.  Prussia confirmed its status as a great power and, in doing so, altered the balance of power in Europe.

New Beginnings

What most people do not realize, however, is that The Seven Years’ War marked a new beginning in the art and science of warfare.  Frederick the Great embarked on land campaigns that later influenced Napoleon’s field commanders.  Such terms as command and control and maneuver warfare both belonged to Frederick the Great.  At sea, the British Royal Navy committed to decisive action under the leadership of Admiral Horatio Nelson.  His innovations gave us Rule Britannia and the British Way of War.

What sets the Seven Years’ War apart from all prior Anglo-French experiences is not in the evolution of its transatlantic maritime conduct but in the innovation of a distinct military theory: amphibious operations.

Central to this doctrinal leap was Sir Thomas More Molyneux’s 1759 masterpiece, titled Conjunct Expeditions.  It begins: “Happy for that People who are Sovereigns enough of the Sea to put [Littoral War] in Execution.  For it comes like Thunder and Lightning to some unprepared Part of the World.”

Sir Thomas was an Oxford-educated guards officer serving on half-pay and a member of Parliament.  His masterpiece was a unique addition to existing professional military literature.  But while certain accomplishments were recognized for their importance as strategic blows, Quebec for example, none have become as studied or analyzed as Molyneux’s dissertation on amphibious warfare.  The doctrine belongs to him alone. 

There were indeed insulated instances of tactical flag signals and landing schemes that pre-date Molyneux’s Conjunct Expeditions, but his effort was the first to codify methods for employment by both land and sea forces.

Although he was writing primarily for a military audience (his training was Army, after all) rather than to a naval assembly, he sought to reduce, “if possible, this amphibious kind of warfare to a safe and regular system and to leave as little as we can to fortune and her caprices.”  Sir Thomas was a brilliant man, an instinctive thinker who understood that every new expedition will, in all probability, produce some new improvement.  He knew that while theory informs practice, its execution demands good judgment.  His brilliance is illustrated by the fact that he placed “doctrine” second to the objectives and aims of the nation.  The purpose of doctrine was to serve the national interests — as was a knowledge of geography, proper utilization of resources, galvanized political will, individual courage, and devotion to the success of such operations. 

His understanding of the relationship between political ends and military means elevated his work to the level of that of Prussian General Carl von Clausewitz, who much later developed treatises on military theory incorporating the moral, psychological, and political aspects of war.  Molyneux understood the importance between strategic intent and doctrinal capability.  He knew that the disconnect between the two, or a failure to adapt to an evolving situation, brings forth the likelihood of defeat.  Such principles are observable during The Seven Years’ War: Great Britain adapted its war aims and methods — France did not.

Evolutionary Challenges

The world’s vast oceans presented Great Britain’s navy with significant challenges beyond navigation and regular seamanship.  There was a question of how best to project the Royal Navy’s power from sea to shore — a challenge that lasted two-hundred years.  Today, naval and military war planners give as much thought and consideration to warfare in the littoral (nearshore) regions as they do the deep blue sea.  But close-to-shore operations offer complex challenges that no one thought of in 1754.  And opportunities that no one imagined.  Molyneux indeed put in writing concepts that had never before been put to paper, but amphibious operations (without doctrine) had been a fact of warfare for three-thousand years.  It had simply not reached its full potential.

We believe that the ancient Greeks were the first to use amphibious warfare techniques.  This information was passed to us from Homer’s The Iliad and the Odyssey.  It is, of course, possible that such an operation may have occurred at an earlier time, at a different place, but was simply not recorded in history.  Still, according to the Iliad, Greek soldiers crossed the Aegean Sea and stormed ashore on the beaches near Troy, which began a siege lasting ten years.[3]  Then, in 499 B.C., the Persians launched a waterborne attack against the Greeks.  At the battle of Marathon in 490 B.C. Persian forces established a beachhead in their attempt to invade Greece.  They employed ships specifically designed for off-loading ships near shore, and while the Persians successfully executed their amphibious operation, the Greeks defeated the Persian armies as they moved inland.

At the beginning of 56 B.C., Caesar split his army up and sent them out from their winter quarters to the various corners of Gaul.  He dispatched his lieutenant in charge of cavalry, Titus Labienus, to Belgae to fend off German tribalists at the Rhine.  To Quintus Titurius Sabinus and three legions, he assigned responsibility to pacify the Venelli on the northern coast.  He directed Publius Crassus to lead twelve cohorts to southeast Aquitania near Hispania to pacify the ancient Basque.  Caesar’s plan was intended to prevent rebellious tribes from joining forces against Roman authority.

In the winter of 57 BC, the tribes inhabiting the northern coast of Gaul surrendered their allegiance to Rome — and then, almost immediately raised an insurrection against their Roman governor, Julius Caesar.  The insurrection was led by Veneti (modern-day Brittany) and Venelli (modern-day Normandy).  There was no formal Roman government to rebel against, but as a matter of principle, the tribalists felt obliged to rebel against Roman authority.

With his remaining four legions, Caesar himself moved east from Belgae territory toward the Veneti on the eastern coast of Gaul.  In fear of Rome’s infantry, the Veneti began abandoning their villages to set up fortified strongholds along rivers and tributaries where tides made passage difficult.  None of those conditions stopped the Romans, however.  Having seized the Veneti strongholds, Caesar forced them toward the sea, where the rebels had collected a large naval force from among their fleets docked between Gaul and Britannia — about two hundred and twenty ships strong.

Caesar had no intention of allowing the Veneti to succeed in their rebellion.  He ordered assistance from the Roman navy in building ships, a project that took all summer.  A member of Brutus’s family was placed in command of this fleet while Julius Caesar stood aground with his land force on the coastline to observe the fight.

The challenge facing the Romans was not the size nor the skill of the enemy but the construction of their ships.  Roman ships were lighter with deeper hulls — ill-suited to traverse the rocky, shallow coastline.  The Veneti’s ships were constructed of heavy oak, flat-bottomed, and suitable for nearshore operations.  The strength of the oak and its thickness made the Roman technique of ramming ineffective.  But the Veneti ships were also slower.  The Romans were engineers.  They developed a long pole with a large hook fastened to its tip, which would be shot at the yards and masts of the Gallic ships.  The effect of such hooks destroyed the sails of the Veneti ships while keeping them afloat in the water.  The device used to project these poles was re-engineered ballistae.  After encircling the Veneti boats, Roman marines boarded them and put the crew to the sword.  From this experience, the Romans learned how to utilize boats to land on Britannia’s shore.  However, as a historical footnote, the tribes in Gaul were not, as they say, very fast learners.  See also: Mare Nostrum.

Beginning around 800 A.D., the Norsemen (Vikings) began their raids into Western Europe via major rivers and estuaries.  The people living along these rivers were so terrified of these raiders that even the lookout’s shout was enough to cause cardiac arrest in some people.  In 1066, William the Conqueror successfully invaded England from Normandy, and he successfully imposed his will upon the Angles and Saxons then living in what became known as Angle Land (England).  But other efforts to force a sea-to-shore landing weren’t as successful.  Spain’s Armada came to a disastrous result while attempting to land troops in England in the year 1588.

The Marines and their Corps

The first U.S. Navy amphibious landing occurred during the American Revolution when in 1776, sailors and Marines stormed ashore in the British Bahamas.  The Nassau landing wasn’t much to brag about (back then or now), but it was a start.  Among the more famous amphibious raids conducted by Marines assigned to ship’s detachments occurred during the Barbary Wars.

While Marines did conduct ship-to-shore raids during the American Civil War, the Union Army conducted most amphibious raids because, in those days, the principal mission of American Marines was to serve aboard ship, not conduct raids ashore.  Following the civil war, however, in the 1880s and 1890s, Navy squadron commanders occasionally dispatched their Marine Detachments ashore (augmented by ship’s company (called Bluejackets)) to emphasize Navy power in connection with U.S. gunboat diplomacy.  The reader will find an example of such “amphibious operations” in the story of Handsome Jack.

U.S. Marines became serious students of amphibious warfare beginning with the landing at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, in 1898 — by every measure, a complete success and a demonstration to the nation that the Navy and Marine Corps had a unique skill set that might prove useful in future conflicts.  In 1910, the Marines moved one step closer to forming a Fleet Marine Force organization with its creation of an Advanced Base Force — a concept seeking to provide an adequate defense of naval bases and installations within the Pacific Rim.[4] 

Other countries attempted to employ amphibious operations, but mostly with disastrous results — such as during the Crimean War (1853) and the debacle at Gallipoli (1915 – 1916).  As a consequence of the Gallipoli disaster, the U.S. Navy and Marine Corps began studying Amphibious Warfare in earnest in the 1920s and 1930s.

During the inter-war period (between world wars), international committees met to discuss how to achieve world peace.  Among the recommendations was an agreement to impose a reduction to naval armaments.  This effort was an unqualified disaster (and probably did as much to ignite World War II as the Allies’ unreasonable demand for reparations in 1919), but while government leaders hemmed and hawed, the U.S. Navy and Marine Corps proceeded with the development of specialized amphibious warfare equipment and doctrine.

Additionally, new troop organizations, landing craft, amphibious tractors that could travel on water and land, and landing tactics were devised, tested, re-examined, and retested.  Training exercises emphasized using naval artillery and carrier-based aircraft to provide close fire support for assault troops.  Combat loading techniques were developed so that ships could quickly unload the equipment required first in an amphibious landing, accepting some reductions in cargo stowage efficiency in return for improved assault capabilities.

To facilitate training for officers and NCOs in these newly acquired capabilities, a Marine Corps School was established at Quantico, Virginia — where subject matter could not only be taught but rehearsed, as well.  In 1933, the Navy and Marines established the Fleet Marine Force (FMF) concept from what had been known as the Advance Base Force. The FMF became America’s quick-reaction force and became the standard vehicle through which emerging ideas about amphibious warfare could be tested through annual fleet landing exercises.

By 1934 Marine tacticians had developed effective amphibious techniques, and it was in that year the Marine Corps published its Tentative Landing Operations Manual, which today remains an important source of amphibious warfare doctrine.  These preparations proved invaluable in World War II when the Marines not only spearheaded many of the attacks against Japanese-held islands in the Pacific War but also trained U.S. Army divisions that also participated in the Atlantic theater as well as the island-hopping Pacific Campaigns.

After a succession of U.S. defeats by the Imperial Japanese Navy, the tide of war turned.  At Coral Sea in the southwest Pacific and Midway in the central Pacific, U.S. aircraft carriers stopped the Japanese advances in history’s first carrier-versus-carrier battles.  Quickly taking the initiative, the United States began its offensive campaigns against the Japanese when, on 7 August 1942, the 1st Marine Division assaulted Tulagi Island and invaded Guadalcanal in the southwest Pacific.  For an account of this engagement, see the series: Guadalcanal: First to Fight.

In the European-Mediterranean theaters, the distances were shorter from allied bases to the assault beaches, but the demand for amphibious expertise was equally high.  Allied naval forces scrambled to secure amphibious shipping and landing craft to support the Atlantic-Mediterranean war effort.  Senior Marine officers assigned to Naval Planning Staffs played an important role in the success of the invasion of North Africa (1942), Sicily, and Salerno (1943).  The Atlantic War was challenging from several different aspects, and some of these efforts weren’t revealed until well after the end of the war.  Colonel Pierre Julien Ortiz served with the OSS behind the lines, and Hollywood actor Sterling Hayden served as a U.S. Marine captain with the OSS in the Aegean Sea.

When Germany surrendered to the allied powers on 7 May 1945, Pacific War planners were putting the final touches on their invasion plan for mainland Japan.  They were also awaiting the arrival of additional shipping and manpower from the European Theater.  No one with any brains was enthusiastic about the idea of having to invade Japan.

The Battles for Saipan, Guam, Tinian, Peleliu, the Philippines, Iwo Jima, and Okinawa established one painful reality: an invasion of mainland Japan would be costly.  Allied war planners had learned an important lesson from the Japanese during their island-hopping campaigns.  The Japanese were using a suicidal defensive strategy.  They realized they could not stop the Allied juggernaut — but they could certainly kill a lot of allied troops in their “defense in depth” strategy.  This fact led allied war planners to envision another one million allied infantry dead before Japan finally capitulated — that is … unless a miraculous alternative somehow presented itself.

And one did

Much has been written about the decision to drop (two) atomic bombs on Japanese cities.  Even General MacArthur argued that the Japanese were already beaten — that there was no justifiable reason to drop “the bomb.”

One can argue that General MacArthur was in a position to know whether atomic warfare was necessary, but in 1945, General MacArthur was 65 years old.  He was from the “old school” American military.  He did not believe that dropping nuclear weapons on innocent citizens was a moral course of action — and this was a fine argument.  But then, neither was sending another million men into harm’s way when there was an alternative course of action.  And, in any case, the Japanese themselves — by adopting their defense-in-depth strategy — signaled their understanding that they could not win the war.  If the Japanese had to die in the war, then by all means, take as many Allied troops as possible along.  This appalling (and incomprehensible) attitude pushed allied war planners into making that horrendous decision.

Two significant facts about this decision stand out.  First, Japanese arrogance did not allow senior Japanese officials to admit they were beaten.  They were happy to “fight on” until every Japanese man, woman, and child lay dead on the Japanese archipelago.  Second, it took two (not one) atomic bombs to convince the Japanese they were beaten.  Two.  There was no need for two, but the Japanese would not capitulate until the bombing of Nagasaki three days after Hiroshima.[5]

When the Japanese finally did surrender, on 2 September 1945, World War II ended.  The suffering of the Japanese people, however, continued for many years.  Between 1945 – 1948, thousands of people died from starvation or exposure to frigid weather every single night for nearly three years.  While this was happening, Allied forces had to manage the repatriation of Japanese Imperial forces throughout the Far East.  In 1946, the Chinese civil war resumed and continued through 1949.  In the face of all this, President Truman set into motion the deactivation of America’s wartime military (even though some of these men were still in harm’s way in China).

Following hostilities, the Office of Naval Research (ONR) reviewed all after-action reports from amphibious operations.  As expected, many landing craft and amphibious-vehicle casualties were due to enemy action — but many were also related to problems with tidal waves and rip currents caused by undersea mountains that contributed to capsizing, swamping, or broaching landing craft.

For example, the analysis revealed flaws involving amphibious boats and tracked vehicles operating on confined landing areas, the slope of the beach, water levels, and soil.  ONR found that saturated sand near the water’s edge would liquefy (and trap) landing vehicles due to the vibrations produced by an overabundance of vehicular traffic.  One of the reasons allied forces continued to conduct training exercises on war-torn beaches (such as Iwo Jima) was to observe these conditions in detail and prepare findings that would improve the capabilities of U.S. amphibious assault vehicles.

Truman’s Folly

When the Korean War exploded late in June 1950, America’s military hierarchy, the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS), had already made up its mind that amphibious warfare was a relic of the past.  They could not have been more wrong about that.  The North Korean attack was lightning quick, overwhelming, and entirely the fault of Mr. “The Buck Stops Here Truman.”  The poorly trained South Korean military was swept aside like a pile of autumn leaves — and the small American military advisory group with it.  Nor were any of General MacArthur’s occupation forces serving in Japan any help.  The only two services ready for this event were the U.S. Navy and Marine Corps — but only barely.

The North Korean Army was stopped in August 1950, but it was an awful bloody event that Truman somewhat dismissively linked to police action.  It raged for three years and set into motion a series of armed conflicts that lasted twenty-five years.  What turned this looming disaster around was an amphibious assault — one that General Omar Bradley, the JCS Chairman, said couldn’t be done.  It took a Marine Corps two-star general to prove Bradley wrong.[6]  While the North Korean Army began its stranglehold of the Pusan Perimeter, Major General Oliver P. Smith was planning the invasion of Inchon, Korea.  On 16 September 1950, the amphibious assault that couldn’t be done had become a matter of history.

Following the Korean War, the United States permanently assigned naval task forces to the western Pacific and Mediterranean areas.  In each of these strategically vital locations, one or more reinforced Marine infantry battalions served as the special landing force within the fleet amphibious ready group.  The ARG/SLF provided quick responses to crises in Lebanon (1958), Laos (1961), Thailand (1962), the Dominican Republic (1965), and the Republic of Vietnam (1965).

More recently, 45 amphibious ships carried Marines to the Middle East and supported them in the late 1980s and 1990s — essentially, 75% of the Navy’s total active fleet.  Before 1991, generally regarded as the Cold War period, U.S. Marines responded to crises about three to four times a year.  Following Operation Desert Storm, the Marine Corps’ amphibious capabilities were called on roughly six times a year.  Why?  Because it is more cost-effective to maintain a rapid reaction force of Marines than to maintain the costs of maintaining American military bases overseas.

Today, the U.S. Marine Corps maintains three Marine Expeditionary Forces to respond to any crisis — no matter where in the world it might occur.  Each MEF, working alongside a U.S. Navy Fleet command, can deploy any size combat structure from battalion landing teams and Marine Expeditionary Units (air, ground, logistics support capabilities) to expeditionary brigades and reinforced MEFs.

During the Vietnam War, III MEF became the largest Marine Corps combat command in the entire history of the Corps — exercising command authority over 80,000 Marines assigned to the 1st Marine Division, 3rd Marine Division, 1st Marine Aircraft Wing, 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing, the Force Logistics Command, and numerous U.S. Army and Vietnamese infantry organizations and their supporting elements.  Over a period of more than six years, III MEF participated in 400 combat operations.  Each Marine Expeditionary Force has the same quick-reaction capability.

No matter where these Marines might originate, there is one guarantee: when they arrive at their destination, they will be ready to fight a sustained engagement.  At that instant, when they bust down the enemy’s front door, the enemy will know that these Marines have come from across the sea — just as Sir Thomas More Molyneux envisioned that they should.

Sources:

  1. Anderson, F.  The War that Made America: A Short History of the French and Indian War.  Penguin Books, 2006.
  2. Baden, C.  The Ottoman Crimean War (1853 – 1856).  Brill Publishing, 2010.
  3. Blanning, T.  Frederick the Great: King of Prussia.  Yale University, 2016.
  4. Fehrenbach, T. R.  This Kind of War.  Brassey’s Publications, 1963.
  5. Fowler, W. H.  Empires at War: The Seven Years’ War and the Struggle for North America.  Douglas & McIntyre, 2005.
  6. Heck, T. and B. A. Friedman, Eds., On Contested Shores: The Evolving Role of Amphibious Operations in the History of Warfare.  Marine Corps University, 2020.
  7. Marine Corps Publication: III Marine Expeditionary Force: Forward, Faithful, Focused, (2021).
  8. Ricks, T. E.  The Generals: American Military Command from World War II to Today.  Penguin Press, 2012.
  9. Savage, M.  U.S. Marines in the Civil War.  Warfare History Network, 2014.
  10. Taylor, A. J. P.  The Struggle for Mastery in Europe: 1848 – 1918.  Oxford Press, 1954.
  11. Vego, M. (2015) “On Littoral Warfare,” Naval War College Review: Vol. 68 : No. 2 , Article 4. Available at: https://digital-commons.usnwc.edu/nwc-review/vol68/iss2/4
  12. Willmott, H. P.  The Last Century of Sea Power: From Port Arthur to Chanak, 1894 – 1922.  Indiana University Press, 2009.

Endnotes:

[1] “Personal Union” simply means that two countries share the same head of state — in this case, the monarch, George II.

[2] Anderson, F.  Crucible of War: The Seven Years War and the Fate of Empire in British North America, 1754-1766.  Random House, 2007.

[3] The ancient city of Troy was called Ilion (hence, the poem called Iliad).  The city actually existed around 1,400 years B.C., and although the poem was believed written down around 800 B.C., it was carried down from one generation to the next as part of an oral tradition for several hundred years.  Homer, of course, receives credit as its author.  

[4] After full and frank discussions between the War and Navy departments, the Navy decided (and the War Department agreed) that there was no significant role for the U.S. Army in the matter of defending advanced naval bases/coaling stations in the Pacific Rim.  For one thing, the Navy envisioned a defense force that it actually owned/controlled.  That would be the Marines, of course.  For another (as reflected in the Army’s rather poor showing during the Spanish-American War), the Army is simply too large/too heavy to operate as a strike force.     

[5] For many years after the war, Japanese officials complained that ground zero at Nagasaki was an orphanage.  This may be true.  There were no “surgically precise” bombs in World War II.  On the other hand, why did it take two atomic bombs to convince Japanese officials that the war was over?  

[6] In 1946, General Bradley also predicted there would never again be a need for an amphibious operation.