"Napoleon Bonaparte, general and hero of the three worlds", translation from french.

[ukron]

The Indian campaign

As Bonaparte's reduced army prepared to land in Ceylon, his project might appear, like the Irish expedition, as David facing Goliath in the heart of the British Empire.

However, on closer inspection, the situation appeared rather favorable to a foreign expedition. While the EIC had reached its apogee in terms of territorial reach and armed force (up to 190,000 men, the vast majority of them Indian Cipayes) under the leadership of Richrd Wellesley, his expensive policies had frightened the company's shareholders and led to his recall. His successor, George Barlow, reduced expenditure and focused on making a profit for what remained, despite its territorial hold, a private company. Taking advantage of the period of peace, Paris was also able to discreetly re-establish a presence with the Indian states, notably the Marathi Confederation and Hyderabad, an old ally from the days of the ancien régime. British pressure following these diplomatic overtures led to renewed Anglo-Indian tensions, despite the prudence of Governor General Lord Minto.

The bellicose Marquis d'Hastings, who succeeded him in 1813, had aggravated this hostility and provoked a new conflict with the Marâthes, much to the fury of London, whose finances were already shattered enough to have to support a new Indian conflict. What's more, since 1806, a series of mutinies among the Cipay troops had weakened the company's military capabilities and undermined mutual trust between the British and the locals.

As Bonaparte landed in Ceylon, the commander of the British garrison in Colombo, convinced he was dealing with a raid rather than an invasion, mobilized all available troops to confront him in open country. Well advised by the former Dutch colonial administrators, Bonaparte easily won the battle and then continued his conquest, taking Colombo and then most of the island. After signing a treaty with the Kingdom of Kandy, the Franco-Dutch marched on Jaffna, in the north of the country, where they defeated a reinforcing British army, before being reinforced by several hundred soldiers sent from Cape Town and Mauritius.


For Hastings, the French invasion was a major setback, forcing him not to exploit his early successes in the fight against the Marathas and to let them reorganize. At the same time, disturbing news reached him: Admiral Decaen's fleet had won a major victory over the British in the North Atlantic, forcing the Royal Navy to concentrate on defending Great Britain and giving the French greater freedom of movement in outlying theaters. In Paris and The Hague, plans were already afoot to send massive reinforcements to India, under the impetus of Lucien Bonaparte, who declared at the Comices that "the brain of British power is in London, but its beating heart is in Calcutta; let's hit it with all our might while we can!".




Period drawing of an EIC cipaye

On March 12, 1814, under the command of the excellent Admiral Hamelin, the Franco-Dutch fleet deceived the vigilance of the British and landed an expeditionary force of 3,300 men near Mahé, a former French trading post on the western coast of the subcontinent. The troops quickly took the town, then set out to conquer the Sultanate of Mysore. Almost without a fight, Bonaparte took the fortress of Seringapatam and restored power to the successors of Haidar Ali and Tipû Sahib, promising to return all lost provinces to the Mysore state.

Expecting a landing near Pondicherry, Hastings was forced to react quickly and march against Mysore. Forced to fight on three fronts, against Bonaparte, the Marâthes and internal dissidence within the EIC domains, he had to give up after six months of campaigning, leaving the Franco-Dutch sole masters of the southern tip. Nevertheless, his replacement, Arthur Wellesley, brother of the former Governor General, arrived in Madras with 15,000 reinforcements. A brilliant soldier, he reorganized his troops and restored their confidence, before trapping and destroying the bulk of the Maratha army. Freed from the northern front, he launched an offensive against Bonaparte, forcing him to retreat as far as Seringapatam.



Arthur Wellesley, arguably Bonaparte's greatest adversary

The decisive confrontation saw Wellesley field more than 40,000 men, while the French had painstakingly assembled 25,000 men, European and local, including several hundred recently arrived veterans of the Atlantic campaigns, fanatically devoted to Bonaparte. On June 18, 1816, the Frenchman was confident in the quality of his troops and his defensive position, but was surprised by his adversary's maneuvering skills and was almost overrun on his left. Thinking the battle lost, he contemplated a last-chance charge, when the cavalry of the Nezam of Hyderabad appeared in the enemy's rear and turned the tide.

[stevep]

   I would be interested to know how France is able to maintain such a sizeable fleet under those conditions? Let alone being able to reinforce Napoleon in India despite the problems of communications that would occur? I doubt Paris would send such a reinforcement without some knowledge of how things were going and in the pre-telegraph age even without a clear superiority at sea that would take months and be way behind events actually in India.

[miletus12]

Royal Navy strength over time



The British were a bit short in the frigate department, which was why the tiny USN was such a pest to such a "mighty" fleet.  

Now let us look at the narrative. 

Jul 21, 2023 15:54:52 GMT ukron said:

Admiral Decaen's fleet had won a major victory over the British in the North Atlantic,

I presume this operation was a distraction and a cover for naval forces assigned to support operations elsewhere.

A victory somewhere in the vicinity of Nantes would do nicely. The British were notorious for mounting expeditions that bit off more than they could chew in this era. 

That implies that there was a failure in coverage by an RN that maintained a 2 to 1 superiority of sailing line ships, probably in the Western Approaches somewhere between Ferrol and Waterford. Where would I next trounce the English if I were a French admiral and wanted to cause maximum grief after a covering operation broke me loose of a leaky British blockade? 


 

[stevep]

Jul 21, 2023 21:38:30 GMT miletus12 said:

Royal Navy strength over time



The British were a bit short in the frigate department, which was why the tiny USN was such a pest to such a "mighty" fleet.  

Now let us look at the narrative. 

Jul 21, 2023 15:54:52 GMT ukron said:

Admiral Decaen's fleet had won a major victory over the British in the North Atlantic,

I presume this operation was a distraction and a cover for naval forces assigned to support operations elsewhere.

A victory somewhere in the vicinity of Nantes would do nicely. The British were notorious for mounting expeditions that bit off more than they could chew in this era. 

That implies that there was a failure in coverage by an RN that maintained a 2 to 1 superiority of sailing line ships, probably in the Western Approaches somewhere between Ferrol and Waterford. Where would I next trounce the English if I were a French admiral and wanted to cause maximum grief after a covering operation broke me loose of a leaky British blockade? 

  Yes the fact the RN was heavily committed against the Napoleonic empire and its puppets, coupled with the long US coastline did mean that American privateers were a problem for the RN.

  The Walcheren campaign was an attempt at drawing pressure off Austria who was also under attack at this stage.  The big error in it was the decision of political figures in London to maintain a force on the island to seek to block the estuary despite warnings of the potential problems with disease in the area which caused the bulk of the casualties.  The other issue was abysmal lack of coordination between the army and navy commanders in the force.

  While Britain frequently had a larger number of ships that their opponents, especially after Trafalgar OTL the core of the advantage was in quality rather than quantity.  Whether the Republican French navy could change that in the slightly longer period of peace would be the big challenge.

  This still ignores the key issue of how Paris is to know of how Napoleon is doing in suitable time to not only find a way around the blockade but for them to reach India in time.  Especially since his original target was Australia.  It would be stupid to send a reinforcing force to India until they know that he's actually there and also doing well.

[ukron]

The end of the revolutionary wars


The decisive nature of the Battle of Seringapatam has long been recognized as a fact by historiography, but has been questioned in recent decades. Recent research has focused on the consequences of the eruption of Tambora the previous year and its climatic repercussions: for some historians, the United Kingdom could have continued the war for several years and re-established the situation in India had the economic crisis not made the social situation in Great Britain untenable.

In any case, the news of India's defeat caused even greater consternation than the naval setbacks, bringing down for good the morale of the population, already subjected for months to severe deprivation and disastrous harvests. On September 3, in London, the departure of a stock of wheat for Southampton provoked a riot: rumor had it that the wheat would be used to feed a new expeditionary force bound for India. While order was restored in London after several days of violence, it was the northern cities, already in the grip of Luddite unrest, that caught fire. In Manchester, the troops refused to fire on the rioters, and an insurrectionary municipality was set up.

Initially demanding guaranteed wheat supplies and representation in Parliament, the movement became more radical and founded a Free Commune, refusing to accept London's authority. The canon had to be used to put an end to this dissent. This was too much for London: faced with the risk of revolution, Great Britain signed an armistice in Cherbourg on September 15. The president of the Tribunate, Joseph Fouché, insisted that negotiations on European and maritime issues be held in Brussels, while the Indian question would be settled by an ad hoc congress in Pondicherry, no doubt with a view to keeping the increasingly popular Bonaparte away from the metropolis.



Luddite riots

Meanwhile, before the news of the Cherbourg treaty was known, the Franco-Dutch and their Indian allies had gone on to lay siege to Madras, while Wellesley had been forced to move his headquarters to Bengal, a region still beyond the reach of England's enemies; he learned of his replacement by Lord Minto at the same time as the peace.

The French delegation to the Calcutta conference was headed by Bonaparte himself, but flanked by a team of diplomats sent by Paris. The negotiations consecrated France's return to the Indian game: Paris saw its coastal possessions lost during the Seven Years' War come back into its fold, and became the protecting power of Tavancore and Mysore. States such as Hyderabad and the Marath Confederation would be grateful allies, but would play on the rivalry between the two powers to maintain the widest possible room for manoeuvre. After much hesitation, the conference decided to maintain the fiction of the Mughal Emperor's suzerainty over the subcontinent; he would not, of course, regain any real power over the other Indian states, still less over the territories under European control, but nevertheless obtained the evacuation of Delhi by the British, regaining control of the city in the manner of a Capetian king managing his small royal domain.


Appointed Proconsul of the Indies, Napoleon Bonaparte put all his energy into imposing the same reforms in the reconquered territories as he had implemented in the Mississippi Provinces: administrative reorganization, local military development and the beginnings of industrialization. "India will not content herself with sending tea to France, she will contribute to making the Fatherland shine in the world through the use of her own forces". It was also during this period that his last child, Alexandre Bonaparte, was born from his affair with a local aristocrat.

In 1819, however, he surprised everyone by leaving his post and returning to France. This decision was prompted by the first signs of failing health, as well as the death of his eldest son, Charles-Napoléon, from tuberculosis, leaving behind three young children.

The final years

If the leaders of the Republic feared a return of the laurelled general to metropolitan politics, they were quickly reassured by the weakened and fatter Bonaparte who appeared before them. "How could a man as paunchy as I be ambitious?" he joked [1].



Joseph Fouché, President of the Tribunate

He remained in Paris to witness Lucien's appointment as President of the Tribunate, after Joseph Fouché's downfall, but soon set sail for New Orleans, where he had long declared his intention to end his days. Disembarking in May 1821, he was reunited with his brother-in-law Murat, who had been running the colony since his departure, in line with his policy of personal power. Settled on a plantation north of the capital, he devoted himself to writing his two posthumously published works: De la guerre expéditionnaire, a theoretical reflection, and Mémoires, which remained unfinished.

In 1822, a Greek delegation crossed the Atlantic to offer him the leadership of a future rebellion. He declined the offer, but nevertheless sent his guests some valuable officers. Recent research has revealed the existence of a similar project among the Indians of the Southern Cone of the Americas: a delegation was to travel to the Mississippi to offer Bonaparte the crown of Araucania and Patagonia!

Nevertheless, it was against illness that Bonaparte struggled during the last years of his life. He breathed his last on February 12, 1823, dictating an unsurprising will dividing his fortune among his children. A national mourning was proclaimed in New Orleans, then in Paris. A battle ensued between the two capitals to determine the location of his tomb, with Murat finally imposing New Orleans, where a gigantic mausoleum was built following a subscription campaign. It is on his coffin that the title by which he is best known today is engraved: "General and Hero of the Three Worlds".


Epilogue

Having emerged from obscurity thanks to the Revolution, Bonaparte had never worn a crown, but he founded a dynasty of sorts, as his numerous descendants would be associated with the destinies of the following centuries: while his grandson Charles-Napoléon had an honorable but lacklustre career in France, Paul-Emile Bonaparte covered himself in glory as a cavalry officer during the Missouri wars against the English-speaking colonists, before becoming Prefect and then Proconsul of Mississippi from 1855 to 1861. The Indian branch of the family produced multiple colonial administrators, then the first post-independence ruler, Eskandar Bonaparte, in 1987. Through a series of prestigious marriages, he was related by blood to most of the great princely houses of the subcontinent. Octavie Bonaparte's descendants, for their part, remained known as the wine and spirits barons of Mississippi and Texas, exporting the country's famous whiskies!

Apart from Napoleon's direct descendants, other Bonapartes have also etched their names in history: while Lucien did not long outlive his brother, Louis-Napoléon, son of his brother Louis, was Minister of Industry and then President of the Tribunate from 1862 to 1869, and is regarded as a modernizing figure. The Murat dynasty continues to play an important role in Mississippi politics, with a great-grandson of Murat and Caroline Bonaparte becoming the first President of the Republic of Mississippi.


[1] Authentic quote from the Hundred Days!

[miletus12]

Jul 22, 2023 12:59:01 GMT stevep said:

Jul 21, 2023 21:38:30 GMT miletus12 said:

Royal Navy strength over time



The British were a bit short in the frigate department, which was why the tiny USN was such a pest to such a "mighty" fleet.  

Now let us look at the narrative. 

I presume this operation was a distraction and a cover for naval forces assigned to support operations elsewhere.

A victory somewhere in the vicinity of Nantes would do nicely. The British were notorious for mounting expeditions that bit off more than they could chew in this era. 

That implies that there was a failure in coverage by an RN that maintained a 2 to 1 superiority of sailing line ships, probably in the Western Approaches somewhere between Ferrol and Waterford. Where would I next trounce the English if I were a French admiral and wanted to cause maximum grief after a covering operation broke me loose of a leaky British blockade? 

  Yes the fact the RN was heavily committed against the Napoleonic empire and its puppets, coupled with the long US coastline did mean that American privateers were a problem for the RN.

  The Walcheren campaign was an attempt at drawing pressure off Austria who was also under attack at this stage.  The big error in it was the decision of political figures in London to maintain a force on the island to seek to block the estuary despite warnings of the potential problems with disease in the area which caused the bulk of the casualties.  The other issue was abysmal lack of coordination between the army and navy commanders in the force.

  While Britain frequently had a larger number of ships that their opponents, especially after Trafalgar OTL the core of the advantage was in quality rather than quantity.  Whether the Republican French navy could change that in the slightly longer period of peace would be the big challenge.

  This still ignores the key issue of how Paris is to know of how Napoleon is doing in suitable time to not only find a way around the blockade but for them to reach India in time.  Especially since his original target was Australia.  It would be stupid to send a reinforcing force to India until they know that he's actually there and also doing well.

1. The Americans were loose upon the world ocean. It is not their fault that British local commanders could not read wind nor wave, or lacked the sense to go after the very vulnerable and very few US shipyards. Big showy raids like Baltimore and Washington and New Orleans might look good in the history books, but Gosport and the New Jersey shipyards were ignored?  
2. The Walcheran campaign was a disaster due to incompetent preparation, inter-service rivalries and divided command. The fact that the imbeciles who led the command did not provide even the minimalist field sanitation training of an American 1812 army to their British troops did not help the British. Also, before the British ever sailed, Archduke Charles had his posterior handed to him on a silver plate. The Austrians were already looking for a peace in the immediate aftermath, which , so what was the point again?  The British prime minister, in charge of their government, made one of his usual decisions, I suppose. I don't mean Spencer Percival, I mean what's his name, the guy who presided over the government way back when, that gave up to us at the Treaty of Paris in 1783. Berntinck? Anyway, the French opposition was made of 3rd class troops, who were whipped into shape by Bernadotte, who had the good judgement, when he saw what he faced, to let malaria, dysentery and a good strong dose of swampy waters do the British in. Very little fighting was necessary. Very smart man, Bernadotte. One of Napoleon's best. 
3. The French navy could do alright. Their main problem was threefold.
a. One was a technical issue in that they nailed their ships together, from not properly seasoned and dried wood, instead of pegged the joints. It took longer for the British to build their ships, but the sturdiness was superior, as was the hull flex and the water-tightness. Not so much use of bilge pumps. French ships were cheaper and faster to make, which is okay if you need a throwaway navy in a hurry (Perry, Lake Erie). French ships were faster and could turn in a fight better, but had inferior guns' operating cycles. This was a simple difference in that the French still used paper fuse inserts and matches in their touch-holes whereas, the British used flint and frission ignition to spark their guns off. They did not wait for a fuse to burn down as the gun crew jumped clear of recoil. They expected their gun crews to hop too, before the the trigger man pulled the lanyard. Add to this 5 to 10 second fire on the roll artillery difference, the less efficient sail plan layouts. It took longer for French top-siders to reset sails than it did for the English. Not a question of training, but a question of the mechanical systems here. The input mechanicals handicapped the French crews with an engineering set of flaws that led to less VERTICAL accuracy in the yaw vector when they fired their broadsides. Hence; the British got off three cycles to the French two and the British could hit hulls more consistently. The French, cursed with a time lag of fuse burn-down and bilge slosh and scamper lag aloft, made a virtue of technical inferiority. They shot at sails, masts and rigging, to cripple maneuver, and then they sought close muzzle to muzzle action so they could send over marines. 
b. The French navy lacked sea-time and a large experienced civil cadre of seafarers. Nothing trains ships' crews faster than time at sea. You cannot simulate ship-handling in port, no matter how many pier-side monkey drills you run.  You have to have wind and current, navigation hazards and maneuver time of ships in company to work out the kinks of fleet actions. The French did not put to sea enough to earn this experience. It is no wonder, since they knew their ships' design defects and shortcomings. Of course, a French admiral could have been like Perry and taken his landlubbers out again and again until they got the basics down for when the actual fight came.  In those days, 90 days was about enough, to drill in the muscle memory. Perry drowned and injured a lot of men, but the survivors turned to and showed that the British were not the only ones who could do that British thing.  By the way, I would like to thank Admiral Suffren for his contribution to my nation's independence. It turns out that the British were very much aware, despite the time lag of months, that this French admiral was well on his way to breaking the British hold on India since he kept beating them over and over in those waters. The British were left with two choices, keep fighting in America and lose India, too; or "make peace you fools". They caved and saved India by a mere cat's whisker.         

c. Speaking of sail plan layouts, such a simple thing as common windlass assists and uniform interchangeable block and tackle manufacture and rigging and superior rope made working a British ship much easier than a Frenchman.  All of those handicaps, just highlights Suffren's technical and operational genius, do you not think? Grant another admiral of that quality to the French and Britain is in trouble, again?          
      
=================================================================

What the French and Americans knew in 1783, would apply in 1800+.
 

[stevep]

Jul 22, 2023 20:18:21 GMT miletus12 said:

Jul 22, 2023 12:59:01 GMT stevep said:

  Yes the fact the RN was heavily committed against the Napoleonic empire and its puppets, coupled with the long US coastline did mean that American privateers were a problem for the RN.

  The Walcheren campaign was an attempt at drawing pressure off Austria who was also under attack at this stage.  The big error in it was the decision of political figures in London to maintain a force on the island to seek to block the estuary despite warnings of the potential problems with disease in the area which caused the bulk of the casualties.  The other issue was abysmal lack of coordination between the army and navy commanders in the force.

  While Britain frequently had a larger number of ships that their opponents, especially after Trafalgar OTL the core of the advantage was in quality rather than quantity.  Whether the Republican French navy could change that in the slightly longer period of peace would be the big challenge.

  This still ignores the key issue of how Paris is to know of how Napoleon is doing in suitable time to not only find a way around the blockade but for them to reach India in time.  Especially since his original target was Australia.  It would be stupid to send a reinforcing force to India until they know that he's actually there and also doing well.

1. The Americans were loose upon the world ocean. It is not their fault that British local commanders could not read wind nor wave, or lacked the sense to go after the very vulnerable and very few US shipyards. Big showy raids like Baltimore and Washington and New Orleans might look good in the history books, but Gosport and the New Jersey shipyards were ignored?  
2. The Walcheran campaign was a disaster due to incompetent preparation, inter-service rivalries and divided command. The fact that the imbeciles who led the command did not provide even the minimalist field sanitation training of an American 1812 army to their British troops did not help the British. Also, before the British ever sailed, Archduke Charles had his posterior handed to him on a silver plate. The Austrians were already looking for a peace in the immediate aftermath, which , so what was the point again?  The British prime minister, in charge of their government, made one of his usual decisions, I suppose. I don't mean Spencer Percival, I mean what's his name, the guy who presided over the government way back when, that gave up to us at the Treaty of Paris in 1783. Berntinck? Anyway, the French opposition was made of 3rd class troops, who were whipped into shape by Bernadotte, who had the good judgement, when he saw what he faced, to let malaria, dysentery and a good strong dose of swampy waters do the British in. Very little fighting was necessary. Very smart man, Bernadotte. One of Napoleon's best. 
3. The French navy could do alright. Their main problem was threefold.
a. One was a technical issue in that they nailed their ships together, from not properly seasoned and dried wood, instead of pegged the joints. It took longer for the British to build their ships, but the sturdiness was superior, as was the hull flex and the water-tightness. Not so much use of bilge pumps. French ships were cheaper and faster to make, which is okay if you need a throwaway navy in a hurry (Perry, Lake Erie). French ships were faster and could turn in a fight better, but had inferior guns' operating cycles. This was a simple difference in that the French still used paper fuse inserts and matches in their touch-holes whereas, the British used flint and frission ignition to spark their guns off. They did not wait for a fuse to burn down as the gun crew jumped clear of recoil. They expected their gun crews to hop too, before the the trigger man pulled the lanyard. Asdd to this 5 to 10 second fire on the roll artillery difference, the less efficient sail plan layouts. It took longer for French top-siders to reset sails than it did for the English. Not a question of training, but a question of the mechanical systems here. The input mechanicals handicapped the French crews with an engineering set of flaws that led to less VERTICAL accuracy in the yaw vector when they fired their broadsides. Hence; the British got off three cycles to French two and the British could hit hulls more consistently. The French, cursed with a time lag of fuse burndown and bilge slosh and scamper lag aloft, made a virtue of technical inferiority. They shot at sails, masts and rigging, to cripple maneuver and then they sought close muzzle to muzzle action so they could send over marines. 
b. The French navy lacked sea-time and a large experienced civil cadre of seafarers. Nothing trains ships' crews faster than time at sea. You cannot simulate ship-handling in port, no matter how many pier-side monkey drills you run.  You have to have wind and current, navigation hazards and maneuver time of ships in company to work out the kinks of fleet actions. The French did not put to sea enough to earn this experience. It is no wonder, since they knew their shipos' design defects and shortcomings. Of course, a French admiral could have been like Perry and taken his landlubbers out again and again until they got the basics down for when the actual fight came.  In those days, 90 days was about enough, to drill in the muscle memory. Perry drowned and injured a lot of men, but the survivors turned to and showed that the British were not the only ones who could do that British thing.  By the way, I would like to thank Admiral Suffren for his contribution to my nation's independence. It turns out that the British were very much aware, despite the time lag of months, that this French admiral was well on his way to breaking the British hold on India since he kept beating them over and over in those waters. The British were left with two choices, keep fighting in America and lose India, too; or "make peace you fools". They caved and saved India by a mere cat's whisker.         

c. Speaking of sail plan layouts, such a simple thing as common windlass assists and uniform interchangeable block and tackle manufacture and rigging and superior rope made working a British ship much easier than a Frenchman.  All of those handicaps, just highlights Suffren's technical and operational genius, do you not think? Grant another admiral of that quality to the French and Britain is in trouble, again?          
      
=================================================================

What the French and Americans knew in 1783, would apply in 1800+.
 

  There are some factual information there but much of it is obscured by your usual bigotry.

[stevep]

Jul 22, 2023 15:04:01 GMT ukron said:

The end of the revolutionary wars


The decisive nature of the Battle of Seringapatam has long been recognized as a fact by historiography, but has been questioned in recent decades. Recent research has focused on the consequences of the eruption of Tambora the previous year and its climatic repercussions: for some historians, the United Kingdom could have continued the war for several years and re-established the situation in India had the economic crisis not made the social situation in Great Britain untenable.

In any case, the news of India's defeat caused even greater consternation than the naval setbacks, bringing down for good the morale of the population, already subjected for months to severe deprivation and disastrous harvests. On September 3, in London, the departure of a stock of wheat for Southampton provoked a riot: rumor had it that the wheat would be used to feed a new expeditionary force bound for India. While order was restored in London after several days of violence, it was the northern cities, already in the grip of Luddite unrest, that caught fire. In Manchester, the troops refused to fire on the rioters, and an insurrectionary municipality was set up.

Initially demanding guaranteed wheat supplies and representation in Parliament, the movement became more radical and founded a Free Commune, refusing to accept London's authority. The canon had to be used to put an end to this dissent. This was too much for London: faced with the risk of revolution, Great Britain signed an armistice in Cherbourg on September 15. The president of the Tribunate, Joseph Fouché, insisted that negotiations on European and maritime issues be held in Brussels, while the Indian question would be settled by an ad hoc congress in Pondicherry, no doubt with a view to keeping the increasingly popular Bonaparte away from the metropolis.



Luddite riots

Meanwhile, before the news of the Cherbourg treaty was known, the Franco-Dutch and their Indian allies had gone on to lay siege to Madras, while Wellesley had been forced to move his headquarters to Bengal, a region still beyond the reach of England's enemies; he learned of his replacement by Lord Minto at the same time as the peace.

The French delegation to the Calcutta conference was headed by Bonaparte himself, but flanked by a team of diplomats sent by Paris. The negotiations consecrated France's return to the Indian game: Paris saw its coastal possessions lost during the Seven Years' War come back into its fold, and became the protecting power of Tavancore and Mysore. States such as Hyderabad and the Marath Confederation would be grateful allies, but would play on the rivalry between the two powers to maintain the widest possible room for manoeuvre. After much hesitation, the conference decided to maintain the fiction of the Mughal Emperor's suzerainty over the subcontinent; he would not, of course, regain any real power over the other Indian states, still less over the territories under European control, but nevertheless obtained the evacuation of Delhi by the British, regaining control of the city in the manner of a Capetian king managing his small royal domain.


Appointed Proconsul of the Indies, Napoleon Bonaparte put all his energy into imposing the same reforms in the reconquered territories as he had implemented in the Mississippi Provinces: administrative reorganization, local military development and the beginnings of industrialization. "India will not content herself with sending tea to France, she will contribute to making the Fatherland shine in the world through the use of her own forces". It was also during this period that his last child, Alexandre Bonaparte, was born from his affair with a local aristocrat.

In 1819, however, he surprised everyone by leaving his post and returning to France. This decision was prompted by the first signs of failing health, as well as the death of his eldest son, Charles-Napoléon, from tuberculosis, leaving behind three young children.

The final years

If the leaders of the Republic feared a return of the laurelled general to metropolitan politics, they were quickly reassured by the weakened and fatter Bonaparte who appeared before them. "How could a man as paunchy as I be ambitious?" he joked [1].



Joseph Fouché, President of the Tribunate

He remained in Paris to witness Lucien's appointment as President of the Tribunate, after Joseph Fouché's downfall, but soon set sail for New Orleans, where he had long declared his intention to end his days. Disembarking in May 1821, he was reunited with his brother-in-law Murat, who had been running the colony since his departure, in line with his policy of personal power. Settled on a plantation north of the capital, he devoted himself to writing his two posthumously published works: De la guerre expéditionnaire, a theoretical reflection, and Mémoires, which remained unfinished.

In 1822, a Greek delegation crossed the Atlantic to offer him the leadership of a future rebellion. He declined the offer, but nevertheless sent his guests some valuable officers. Recent research has revealed the existence of a similar project among the Indians of the Southern Cone of the Americas: a delegation was to travel to the Mississippi to offer Bonaparte the crown of Araucania and Patagonia!

Nevertheless, it was against illness that Bonaparte struggled during the last years of his life. He breathed his last on February 12, 1823, dictating an unsurprising will dividing his fortune among his children. A national mourning was proclaimed in New Orleans, then in Paris. A battle ensued between the two capitals to determine the location of his tomb, with Murat finally imposing New Orleans, where a gigantic mausoleum was built following a subscription campaign. It is on his coffin that the title by which he is best known today is engraved: "General and Hero of the Three Worlds".


Epilogue

Having emerged from obscurity thanks to the Revolution, Bonaparte had never worn a crown, but he founded a dynasty of sorts, as his numerous descendants would be associated with the destinies of the following centuries: while his grandson Charles-Napoléon had an honorable but lacklustre career in France, Paul-Emile Bonaparte covered himself in glory as a cavalry officer during the Missouri wars against the English-speaking colonists, before becoming Prefect and then Proconsul of Mississippi from 1855 to 1861. The Indian branch of the family produced multiple colonial administrators, then the first post-independence ruler, Eskandar Bonaparte, in 1987. Through a series of prestigious marriages, he was related by blood to most of the great princely houses of the subcontinent. Octavie Bonaparte's descendants, for their part, remained known as the wine and spirits barons of Mississippi and Texas, exporting the country's famous whiskies!

Apart from Napoleon's direct descendants, other Bonapartes have also etched their names in history: while Lucien did not long outlive his brother, Louis-Napoléon, son of his brother Louis, was Minister of Industry and then President of the Tribunate from 1862 to 1869, and is regarded as a modernizing figure. The Murat dynasty continues to play an important role in Mississippi politics, with a great-grandson of Murat and Caroline Bonaparte becoming the first President of the Republic of Mississippi.


[1] Authentic quote from the Hundred Days!

  How draconian is the peace imposed in Europe and how much of the continent remains - for the moment - under French rule?  Also what happens to the assorted colonial possessions of the assorted great powers?

  I would expect further conflict in India because while its importance is overstated in terms of British power its still an important market and also your likely to see continued instability unless the Marathas - as the most likely candidate - can get their act together.

  Will there be more on the following years or is this the end of the TL?

[miletus12]

Jul 23, 2023 12:00:00 GMT stevep said:

Jul 22, 2023 20:18:21 GMT miletus12 said:

1. The Americans were loose upon the world ocean. It is not their fault that British local commanders could not read wind nor wave, or lacked the sense to go after the very vulnerable and very few US shipyards. Big showy raids like Baltimore and Washington and New Orleans might look good in the history books, but Gosport and the New Jersey shipyards were ignored?  
2. The Walcheran campaign was a disaster due to incompetent preparation, inter-service rivalries and divided command. The fact that the imbeciles who led the command did not provide even the minimalist field sanitation training of an American 1812 army to their British troops did not help the British. Also, before the British ever sailed, Archduke Charles had his posterior handed to him on a silver plate. The Austrians were already looking for a peace in the immediate aftermath, which , so what was the point again?  The British prime minister, in charge of their government, made one of his usual decisions, I suppose. I don't mean Spencer Percival, I mean what's his name, the guy who presided over the government way back when, that gave up to us at the Treaty of Paris in 1783. Berntinck? Anyway, the French opposition was made of 3rd class troops, who were whipped into shape by Bernadotte, who had the good judgement, when he saw what he faced, to let malaria, dysentery and a good strong dose of swampy waters do the British in. Very little fighting was necessary. Very smart man, Bernadotte. One of Napoleon's best. 
3. The French navy could do alright. Their main problem was threefold.
a. One was a technical issue in that they nailed their ships together, from not properly seasoned and dried wood, instead of pegged the joints. It took longer for the British to build their ships, but the sturdiness was superior, as was the hull flex and the water-tightness. Not so much use of bilge pumps. French ships were cheaper and faster to make, which is okay if you need a throwaway navy in a hurry (Perry, Lake Erie). French ships were faster and could turn in a fight better, but had inferior guns' operating cycles. This was a simple difference in that the French still used paper fuse inserts and matches in their touch-holes whereas, the British used flint and frission ignition to spark their guns off. They did not wait for a fuse to burn down as the gun crew jumped clear of recoil. They expected their gun crews to hop too, before the the trigger man pulled the lanyard. Add to this 5 to 10 second fire on the roll artillery difference, the less efficient sail plan layouts. It took longer for French top-siders to reset sails than it did for the English. Not a question of training, but a question of the mechanical systems here. The input mechanicals handicapped the French crews with an engineering set of flaws that led to less VERTICAL accuracy in the yaw vector when they fired their broadsides. Hence; the British got off three cycles to French two and the British could hit hulls more consistently. The French, cursed with a time lag of fuse burndown and bilge slosh and scamper lag aloft, made a virtue of technical inferiority. They shot at sails, masts and rigging, to cripple maneuver and then they sought close muzzle to muzzle action so they could send over marines. 
b. The French navy lacked sea-time and a large experienced civil cadre of seafarers. Nothing trains ships' crews faster than time at sea. You cannot simulate ship-handling in port, no matter how many pier-side monkey drills you run.  You have to have wind and current, navigation hazards and maneuver time of ships in company to work out the kinks of fleet actions. The French did not put to sea enough to earn this experience. It is no wonder, since they knew their ships' design defects and shortcomings. Of course, a French admiral could have been like Perry and taken his landlubbers out again and again until they got the basics down for when the actual fight came.  In those days, 90 days was about enough, to drill in the muscle memory. Perry drowned and injured a lot of men, but the survivors turned to and showed that the British were not the only ones who could do that British thing.  By the way, I would like to thank Admiral Suffren for his contribution to my nation's independence. It turns out that the British were very much aware, despite the time lag of months, that this French admiral was well on his way to breaking the British hold on India since he kept beating them over and over in those waters. The British were left with two choices, keep fighting in America and lose India, too; or "make peace you fools". They caved and saved India by a mere cat's whisker.         

c. Speaking of sail plan layouts, such a simple thing as common windlass assists and uniform interchangeable block and tackle manufacture and rigging and superior rope made working a British ship much easier than a Frenchman.  All of those handicaps, just highlights Suffren's technical and operational genius, do you not think? Grant another admiral of that quality to the French and Britain is in trouble, again?          
      
=================================================================

What the French and Americans knew in 1783, would apply in 1800+.
 

  There are some factual information there but much of it is obscured by your usual bigotry.

100% factual. No bigotry.   

[ukron]

Jul 23, 2023 12:03:25 GMT stevep said:

Jul 22, 2023 15:04:01 GMT ukron said:

The end of the revolutionary wars


The decisive nature of the Battle of Seringapatam has long been recognized as a fact by historiography, but has been questioned in recent decades. Recent research has focused on the consequences of the eruption of Tambora the previous year and its climatic repercussions: for some historians, the United Kingdom could have continued the war for several years and re-established the situation in India had the economic crisis not made the social situation in Great Britain untenable.

In any case, the news of India's defeat caused even greater consternation than the naval setbacks, bringing down for good the morale of the population, already subjected for months to severe deprivation and disastrous harvests. On September 3, in London, the departure of a stock of wheat for Southampton provoked a riot: rumor had it that the wheat would be used to feed a new expeditionary force bound for India. While order was restored in London after several days of violence, it was the northern cities, already in the grip of Luddite unrest, that caught fire. In Manchester, the troops refused to fire on the rioters, and an insurrectionary municipality was set up.

Initially demanding guaranteed wheat supplies and representation in Parliament, the movement became more radical and founded a Free Commune, refusing to accept London's authority. The canon had to be used to put an end to this dissent. This was too much for London: faced with the risk of revolution, Great Britain signed an armistice in Cherbourg on September 15. The president of the Tribunate, Joseph Fouché, insisted that negotiations on European and maritime issues be held in Brussels, while the Indian question would be settled by an ad hoc congress in Pondicherry, no doubt with a view to keeping the increasingly popular Bonaparte away from the metropolis.



Luddite riots

Meanwhile, before the news of the Cherbourg treaty was known, the Franco-Dutch and their Indian allies had gone on to lay siege to Madras, while Wellesley had been forced to move his headquarters to Bengal, a region still beyond the reach of England's enemies; he learned of his replacement by Lord Minto at the same time as the peace.

The French delegation to the Calcutta conference was headed by Bonaparte himself, but flanked by a team of diplomats sent by Paris. The negotiations consecrated France's return to the Indian game: Paris saw its coastal possessions lost during the Seven Years' War come back into its fold, and became the protecting power of Tavancore and Mysore. States such as Hyderabad and the Marath Confederation would be grateful allies, but would play on the rivalry between the two powers to maintain the widest possible room for manoeuvre. After much hesitation, the conference decided to maintain the fiction of the Mughal Emperor's suzerainty over the subcontinent; he would not, of course, regain any real power over the other Indian states, still less over the territories under European control, but nevertheless obtained the evacuation of Delhi by the British, regaining control of the city in the manner of a Capetian king managing his small royal domain.


Appointed Proconsul of the Indies, Napoleon Bonaparte put all his energy into imposing the same reforms in the reconquered territories as he had implemented in the Mississippi Provinces: administrative reorganization, local military development and the beginnings of industrialization. "India will not content herself with sending tea to France, she will contribute to making the Fatherland shine in the world through the use of her own forces". It was also during this period that his last child, Alexandre Bonaparte, was born from his affair with a local aristocrat.

In 1819, however, he surprised everyone by leaving his post and returning to France. This decision was prompted by the first signs of failing health, as well as the death of his eldest son, Charles-Napoléon, from tuberculosis, leaving behind three young children.

The final years

If the leaders of the Republic feared a return of the laurelled general to metropolitan politics, they were quickly reassured by the weakened and fatter Bonaparte who appeared before them. "How could a man as paunchy as I be ambitious?" he joked [1].



Joseph Fouché, President of the Tribunate

He remained in Paris to witness Lucien's appointment as President of the Tribunate, after Joseph Fouché's downfall, but soon set sail for New Orleans, where he had long declared his intention to end his days. Disembarking in May 1821, he was reunited with his brother-in-law Murat, who had been running the colony since his departure, in line with his policy of personal power. Settled on a plantation north of the capital, he devoted himself to writing his two posthumously published works: De la guerre expéditionnaire, a theoretical reflection, and Mémoires, which remained unfinished.

In 1822, a Greek delegation crossed the Atlantic to offer him the leadership of a future rebellion. He declined the offer, but nevertheless sent his guests some valuable officers. Recent research has revealed the existence of a similar project among the Indians of the Southern Cone of the Americas: a delegation was to travel to the Mississippi to offer Bonaparte the crown of Araucania and Patagonia!

Nevertheless, it was against illness that Bonaparte struggled during the last years of his life. He breathed his last on February 12, 1823, dictating an unsurprising will dividing his fortune among his children. A national mourning was proclaimed in New Orleans, then in Paris. A battle ensued between the two capitals to determine the location of his tomb, with Murat finally imposing New Orleans, where a gigantic mausoleum was built following a subscription campaign. It is on his coffin that the title by which he is best known today is engraved: "General and Hero of the Three Worlds".


Epilogue

Having emerged from obscurity thanks to the Revolution, Bonaparte had never worn a crown, but he founded a dynasty of sorts, as his numerous descendants would be associated with the destinies of the following centuries: while his grandson Charles-Napoléon had an honorable but lacklustre career in France, Paul-Emile Bonaparte covered himself in glory as a cavalry officer during the Missouri wars against the English-speaking colonists, before becoming Prefect and then Proconsul of Mississippi from 1855 to 1861. The Indian branch of the family produced multiple colonial administrators, then the first post-independence ruler, Eskandar Bonaparte, in 1987. Through a series of prestigious marriages, he was related by blood to most of the great princely houses of the subcontinent. Octavie Bonaparte's descendants, for their part, remained known as the wine and spirits barons of Mississippi and Texas, exporting the country's famous whiskies!

Apart from Napoleon's direct descendants, other Bonapartes have also etched their names in history: while Lucien did not long outlive his brother, Louis-Napoléon, son of his brother Louis, was Minister of Industry and then President of the Tribunate from 1862 to 1869, and is regarded as a modernizing figure. The Murat dynasty continues to play an important role in Mississippi politics, with a great-grandson of Murat and Caroline Bonaparte becoming the first President of the Republic of Mississippi.


[1] Authentic quote from the Hundred Days!

  How draconian is the peace imposed in Europe and how much of the continent remains - for the moment - under French rule?  Also what happens to the assorted colonial possessions of the assorted great powers?

  I would expect further conflict in India because while its importance is overstated in terms of British power its still an important market and also your likely to see continued instability unless the Marathas - as the most likely candidate - can get their act together.

  Will there be more on the following years or is this the end of the TL?

First: thanks Stevep and Miletus12 for this interesting debate, I don't find the proper time to read every comments in details for now, but we can suppose that without Napoleon in power, the french navy would have better strategical opportunities and at least the time to strenghthen his "building chains' (which means for instance that without the absurd idea of a french landing in England, Paris could invest into bases on Atlantic coast).

Second: for now that's the end of this timeline but i won't be suprise if Démétrios would decide to write timelines in this proper universe.

[stevep]

Jul 24, 2023 14:51:54 GMT ukron said:

Jul 23, 2023 12:03:25 GMT stevep said:

  How draconian is the peace imposed in Europe and how much of the continent remains - for the moment - under French rule?  Also what happens to the assorted colonial possessions of the assorted great powers?

  I would expect further conflict in India because while its importance is overstated in terms of British power its still an important market and also your likely to see continued instability unless the Marathas - as the most likely candidate - can get their act together.

  Will there be more on the following years or is this the end of the TL?

First: thanks Stevep and Miletus12 for this interesting debate, I don't find the proper time to read every comments in details for now, but we can suppose that without Napoleon in power, the french navy would have better strategical opportunities and at least the time to strenghthen his "building chains' (which means for instance that without the absurd idea of a french landing in England, Paris could invest into bases on Atlantic coast).

Second: for now that's the end of this timeline but i won't be suprise if Démétrios would decide to write timelines in this proper universe.

  Its a possibility but far from a certainty.  Most sources I've read suggested that the republic was in severe crisis for its last few years which lead to the move toward dictatorship under Napoleon - 1st as consort, then as emperor.  Unless its able to avoid those problems then the likelihood is that some other military leader would seek to gain power.  Which might mean a longer lasting peace without Napoleon's increasing desires for military answers to all solutions or might mean even greater chaos or anywhere in between.  However would leave it at that.  Some interesting ideas but a lot of questions about how Louisiana would actually develop and how much tension there would be in N America as a result in decades to come.  Even with a short path to the Pacific - possibly not as the Oregon/Columbia status is still unresolved - but without Texas the US has no real path for its OTL attack on Mexico in the 1840's and hence annexation of California and other areas.  This is going to change the political and economic situation for N America drastically.

[miletus12]

Sidebar:

Jul 24, 2023 16:02:17 GMT stevep said:

without Texas the US has no real path for its OTL attack on Mexico in the 1840's

Here is a brief illustration of the Mexican American War. Do you see how the Americans moved?



The Duke of Wellington had something to say about this.

Of all the Great Captains we are examining in this confer­ence, Winfield Scott is probably the least known to the general public. Years ago, when I told people I was writing a biography of President Garfield, a common reaction was “Why?” Later, when I was writing a biography of Winfield Scott, they asked: “Who?”

That was a sad comedown for the reputation of a man who, during his lifetime, was often referred to as “The Greatest Captain of His Age,” and of whom the Duke of Wellington report­edly said: “Scott is the greatest living soldier.”

From this, two questions arise: Did Scott deserve the towering reputation he enjoyed during his lifetime? and Why did that reputation fade in later years among the general public.

First, as to his rise. By present-day standards Scott’s dazzling military career seems highly improbable. He never attended a military school, never even belonged to a militia company, nor was he raised in a military family. But, as a landless, slaveless, fatherless Virginian with aspirations for gentility, he had to make his own way in the world, which meant some sort of profession, since going into trade was deemed declasse. Initially he chose the law but found that drawing up wills and deeds was unsuited to his restless, action-loving nature.

In 1807 a fresh opportunity presented itself. In the wake of the Chesapeake-Leopard affair, President Jefferson called for volunteer military companies to patrol the coast and enforce the Embargo. On an impulse, the twenty-one-year-old law student put away his books, bought a horse, borrowed a uniform and first tasted what would become his life’s work.

Though these ad hoc companies were disbanded once the emergency passed, Scott was hooked. As he later put it: “The young soldier had heard the bugles and the drum. It was the music that awoke ambition.”

By present day standards, this ambition might seem an impossible dream. Scott had none of the credentials which our society demands of a would-be professional. But nineteenth-century careers had a different trajectory than ours. The United States was then a nation of amateurs: few attorneys attended law school, most read law books on their own, did odd jobs for local lawyers, kept their eyes open and learned by experience. Like­wise, neither physicians nor teachers required a state certifi­cate to practice their profession. My earlier biograph­ical subject, James A. Garfield, was at one time or another a profes­sor, a college president, a minister of the gospel, an attorney ­(w­ho practiced before the U.S. Supreme Court) a general in the Union army and a congressman. His formal train­ing for these varied professions consisted mainly of studying Greek and Latin, but for a bright, hard-working young man that, apparently, was enough. Likewise, Scott was intelligent, tall, self-assured and could read French, assets which, given a little luck, could be parlayed into a military career.

But a military career required an active military establish­ment, which the infant United States did not possess, nor did it particularly desire. In 1807, the regular army consisted of less than 3,000 men commanded by about 150 officers. The ranks of the enlisted men were largely filled by immigrants, misfits and drunkards. Many of the officers were superannuated veterans of the Revolutionary War, locked into their commands by the iron law of seniority.

This weakness was no accident. Americans feared that a strong standing army could, as in Europe, be turned against the liberties of the people. In times of emergencies, we preferred to rely on patriotic volunteers or on militiamen, that is, part-time soldiers, drawn like the iconic Minutemen from civilian life and eager to return to it once the emergency was over.

Such a tiny army could scarcely accommodate Scott’s outsized ambitions, so he reluctantly returned to the law. But the very next year, in response to increased tension with Great Britain, President Jefferson doubled the size of the regular army. Scott jumped at this opportunity and it is indicative of the casual, almost slapdash procedures of the old army that, instead of apply­ing for a commission through channels, Scott went straight to the president, with an influential politician in tow, to plead his case. And it is further revealing that Jefferson did not draw upon the military academy he had recently formed but instead rewarded this untested neophyte with a captain’s bars.

Assigned to duty in Louisiana, Scott soon had reason to regret his career choice. He found himself in an encampment seething with feuds, festering with resentments, backbiting and intrigue, commanded by antiquated, corrupt, self-serving incompe­tents, most notably General James Wilkinson. Bored and disillu­sioned, the young captain attempted to resign but was instead suspended from duty for a year for some indiscrete remarks he had made about his commanding officer.

Despite this inauspicious beginning, Scott did not complete­ly give up on a military career. Instead, he tried a new tack. While sitting out his suspension back home in Virginia, he used his enforced leisure to devour books on military history, theory and procedure. Had he attended West Point, he would have learned very little of this, since the Academy at that time was primarily an engineering college (though it did teach drawing and ballroom dancing).

From these studies came his ambition to conduct warfare in the Napoleonic manner: “to conduct sieges and comma­nd in open fields, serried lines and columns.”

Sooner than he could have expected, such an opportunity presented itself. Only a few months after his punitive suspen­sion was lifted, war with Great Britain was declared. Much to his surprise, the young captain discovered he had been bumped two grades to Lt. Colonel and ordered to raise a regiment of volun­teers and proceed with them to the Niagara frontier. There he would spend the next two years in futile attempts to wrest this peninsu­la from British control. In the process he would be wounded, taken prisoner and would command in three major battles.

The first was at Queenston Heights, just across the river from Lewiston, New York. At first the battle went well, until British and Indian reinforcements arrived to tip the scales. American reinforcements were available across the river, but the New York militia refused to cross into Canada on the grounds that they had enlisted to defend New York state, not to invade another country. Scott could barely contain his contempt for those “vermin who . . . no sooner found themselves in sight of the enemy then they discovered that the militia of the United States could not be constitutionally marched into a foreign country!” From this dated his lifelong aversion to amateur citizen-soldiers and a concomitant attachment to the professional sol­diers of the regular army – the “rascally regulars,” as he called them with affection.

Although the battle of Queenston Heights was an American defeat, Scott himself emerged as something of a hero. Unlike other commanders who had abjectly surrendered or had avoided combat altogether, Scott had displayed bravery, initiative and a fighting spirit.

In early 1814, the War Department cleaned house, putting the aged generals of defeat on the shelf and promoting a cadre of younger officers, Scott among them. Three years earlier he had been a disgraced captain serving out his suspension, now he was a brigadier general. In 1812 the average age of an American general had been sixty. Now, suddenly it was reduced to thirty-six, and Scott, only twenty-seven years old, was the youngest of them all.

Alexis de Tocqueville observed that war “breaks down rules and makes outstanding men come forward. Officers, whose minds and bodies have grown old in peacetime are eliminated, retire or die. In their place a multitude of young men, already toughened by war, press forward with ambitious hopes aflame.” He could have been describing the career of Winfield Scott, both at its begin­ning and, sadly, at its end.

For his first command he was given the “Left Division,” a mixed group of about 3,500 regulars, veterans and raw recruits, these would be the material out of which he hoped to forge his vision of what an army should be. At Flint Hill, outside Buffa­lo, he established a training camp not, as he claimed­, the first such camp, but by far the most rigorous. For two months the men were drilled ten hours a day, seven days a week. After breakfast, corporals drilled their squads; before lunch, captains drilled entire companies; and in the afternoon the whole brigade was put through its paces by Scott himself. No detail was overlooked, including the proper way to bake bread, the location of latrines and the frequency of bathing. Discipline was main­tained through professional pride rather than fear. The brutal punish­ments, so common in all armies, were kept to a minimum, but officers who struck enlisted men were suspended from duty.

Scott’s efforts were complicated by the strange fact that the U.S. army had no standard drill or tactical manuals, which could make for fatal confusion when different units fought side by side. He patched together a system of drill based on French models, which he used as a stopgap but which he vowed to improve after the war if he should be spared.

After two months of this regimen, Scott was confident that his “handsome little army” was ready to be tested. He was not disappointed. On July 5, 1814, while advancing up the Niagara Peninsula, he stumbled across a well-positioned British army outside of the village of Chippewa. In the brief 90 minutes of fighting that followed, Scott’s hastily trained amateurs stood as firm against British volleys as if they were on the parade ground. In the face of their determination, it was the famed “thin red line” of British veterans of the Napoleonic Wars that broke and ran for safety.

Three weeks later, Scott caught up with them at Lundy’s Lane, near Niagara Falls. Both sides claimed victory in this bloody encounter, with the Americans winning tactical honors while the British maintained their strategic control of the Niagara Pen­insula.

From the standpoint of morale, however, the Americans were the clear winners. At this stage in this dispiriting war, even a hollow victory was something to cheer about. And Scott, now a Major General (the army’s highest rank since the retirement of Lt. Gen. Washington), found himself America’s number one milita­ry hero, a distinction he would have to surrender within a few months to Andrew Jackson.

To make matters worse, Jackson’s smashing victory near New Orleans over the cream of British regulars was accomplished with a ragtag assemblage of frontier militiamen, free Blacks and Gulf pirates, rather than the highly trained regulars of Scott’s ideal army. As Scott realized, to his dismay, “Jackson and the Western militia seem likely to throw all other generals and the regular troops into the background.”

This foreshadowed the half-century split between competing visions of the role of the American military. On the one side were such presidents as Jefferson, Jackson and Polk and various frontier-schooled generals, such as Edmund Pendleton Gaines, who considered a standing army as an expensive luxury, as likely to be turned against the people’s liberties as against its enemies. They advocated a bare-boned regular army which could be augmented in time of crisis by militiamen and patriotic volun­teers. “Pluck” and common sense, they maintained, were more important than so-called military “science” derived from Frenchi­fied books. As Gaines insisted: “The brave people of the West need no other preparation than what their own strong arms, good rifles, and sound hearts will at the moment furnish.”

To counter this outdated Minuteman tradition, Scott set to work creating the basis for a trained professional army. His chief weapon between wars was the pen. He wrote drill instruc­tions, tactical manuals for each branch of the service and, his magnum opus, the General Regulations for the Army (or Scott’s Institutes, as he preferred to call it). In this handbook he codi­fied and systematized all army procedures from baking bread to winning battles, with instructions along the way as to how to clean uniforms, pack knapsacks and conduct court martials. A modern business historian has called the book “the first compre­hensive management manual published in the United States,” and it has even been claimed that the operating manual for the Baltimore and Ohio railroad was patterned after it.

Despite these later accolades, many of Scott’s fellow offi­cers, whose experience was largely gained in fighting Indians, scoffed at such impractical “scientific” notions, which they dismissed as unsuitable to American conditions. Courage and energy, they insisted, were far more important than book learn­ing.

They had a point. Later, in the 1830’s, when Scott was put in command of the war against the Seminole Indians in Florida, he devised an elaborate scheme to trap the Indians in a double envelopment similar to that employed by Hannibal at Cannae. It failed, of course. The swamps of Florida were not the plains of Tuscany and the Seminoles easily slipped out of Scott’s clumsy trap. Back in Washington, Andrew Jackson, now President, and himself a seasoned Indian fighter grumbled: “It is the first time that a scientific combined military movement has been attempted against Indians, and I hope … it will be the last.”

But Scott’s critics were locked into the past. The era of Indian fighting was drawing to a close; more and more the Ameri­can military would be required to fight that European style warfare which Scott had made his life study. His great opportu­nity came with the war with Mexico. Although Scott did not approve of the war (nor, for that matter, did Grant) this war was his chance to put into practice the study of a lifetime

He almost missed it. Although by this time he had risen to Commanding General of the Army and seemed the logical choice to lead it into Mexico, President Polk was reluctant to assign him to the command. He doubted whether the sixty-year-old general was sufficiently vigorous for such a campaign and feared that he was too “scientific and visionary in his ways.” Scott, like Zachary Taylor, was a Whig and the Democrat Polk was all too aware of how Andrew Jackson and William Henry Harrison had ridden their military success into the White House.

On further reflection, Polk considered that Scott, if successful, might neutralize Taylor’s growing popularity and perhaps divide the Whigs. Furthermore, as a wily advisor sug­gested, Polk could allow Scot to win the war and then find some excuse to “take the wind out of his sails.”

The unwary general set sail full of gratitude for the Presid­ent’s professions of confidence. His strategic plan was simple and direct: land at Vera Cruz and head straight for Mexico City, following the path blazed by Cortez three centuries earli­er. (Could he have been influenced by Prescott’s Conquest of Mexico which had been recently published?)

The strategy might be simple but its execution was full of perils. Two mountain ranges lay between the coast and the capital, and the 280-mile National Highway was defended by a Mexican army far from contemptible. Considerably larger than Scott’s force, its officers had been schooled in their country’s endemic civil wars and some had even used Scott’s manuals to train their soldiers, who were largely peasants accustomed to obeying orders and enduring hardships. They were fighting on home ground, with all its advantages in supply and familiarity. I won’t burden this group with a battle-by-battle narrative of Scott’s epic march. But it should be pointed out that in order to succeed Scott had to win every battle; losing even one would have proved fatal.

His tactics were straight out of the textbooks he himself had written: scout the terrain carefully; preserve the initiative by compelling the enemy to respond to his moves; maintain the elements of deception and surprise; and avoid frontal attacks in favor of turning movements. Above all, he had to keep his eye on the main goal and not be distracted by secondary targets, however tempting.

Yet he was not always a slave to the book (even if he did write it). At one point he found himself deep in Mexican terri­tory unable to spare the men to guard his supply line and lines of retreat. This was his nightmare scenario which freshman plebes at the Academy were taught to avoid. Scott simply threw away the book and continued his march, living off the country.

President Polk was appalled at this “great military error” and a greater authority, the aged Duke of Wellington, declared: “Scott is lost,” but his audacity was not lost on junior offi­cers, such as Lee, Grant and Sherman, who, decades later, would model their own campaigns on that of Scott’s.

It was an impressive model to follow: in six months he marched almost 300 miles, fought seven major battles against larger armies that were entrenched in positions of their own choosing. The Duke of Wellington was reported to have said that for this campaign “unsurpassed in military annals,” Scott had proven himself “the greatest living soldier.” Scott himself gave full credit to that bastion of military professionalism, West Point. “I will say to my dying bed that but for the Mili­tary Academy I never could have entered the basin of Mexico.”

President Polk disagreed. He claimed that the gallant American soldiers could have won the war “if there was not an officer among them.” Within a few months the vindictive presi­dent managed to contrive an excuse to strip Scott from his command and recall him to Washington, far from his scene of triumph. Scott, of course, would continue as Commanding General of the Army and would retain that position through the first year of the Civil War. By that time, he was 75 years old and unable to mount a horse without the aid of a stepladder. Yet he was still competent enough to supervise the raising of the immense army which the secession crisis required.

What to do with that army was a question to which he gave considerable thought, based on his experience over the past half century. The Anaconda Plan he devised (although he never used that name) was designed to end the war with a minimum of fight­ing, for he was convinced that the secession impulse was actual­ly weak but that an invasion of the South, with bloody battles, would only inflame Southern nationalism and lead to a long and possibly disastrous war. Consequently, he proposed cutting the Confederacy off from the world by blockading its coasts and by seizing the Mississippi and Ohio rivers. Thus isolated, the South would stew in its own juice, while time would allow for sober second thoughts to prevail.

This strategy of masterly inactivity overestimated the patience of the North and underestimated the determination of the South. With Northern newspapers and politicians screaming “On to Richmond,” the temptation to strike a military blow against the Rebels proved irresistible and that, as Scott had predicted, unleashed a long and bloody war.

It was not the sort of war his experience had prepared him to direct, and before the year was over he was eased out of command, leaving the war to be fought by the younger officers he himself had trained. His half-century military career was over.

And with that, his memory began to fade from the public consciousness. The hero of two wars, the conqueror of Mexico who professionalized our army, is remembered, if at all, by the derisive nickname: “Old Fuss and Feathers.”

The late historian, T. Harry Williams suggested a reason for this neglect. He divided American military heroes into two categories: The Macs and the Ikes. The Ikes, such as Zachary Taylor, U.S. Grant and, of course, Dwight Eisenhower, embodied democratic values in their behavior. Taylor dispensed with uniforms and medals and would stroll through camp, often unrecognized, and chat with his men. Grant, famously, dressed in a private’s uniform, with his general’s stars pinned to his shoulder straps

The Macs: George McClellan, Douglas Macarthur and Scott, demanded all the perks and deference due to their exalted rank. Scott, according to Grant, “always wore all the uniform pre­scribed or allowed by law,” and, like McClellan, made sure the soldiers were lined up to cheer him as he rode by. Americans may respect the Macs, but they love the Ikes.

And, it must be admitted, Scott was not particularly love­able. Vain, contentious and quarrelsome, he engaged in bitter feuds with fellow officers, politicians, Secretaries of War and Presi­dents throughout his career. Proud, pompous, petulant and pedantic, he held himself aloof, even to his friends, History is often unjust, and it seems a shame that Scott’s personal quirks and foibles should have obscured the memory of his many accom­plishments.

Even those accomplishments seem less significant with the passing years. Americans revere those heroes who fought for a noble cause: Washington for liberty and independence; Grant for Freedom and Union; Eisenhower to save civilization from a new barbarism. But to fight for Texas? It doesn’t seem to rise to quite the same exalted level. And Scott’s earlier service in the War of 1812 sounds no trumpets either, since to the public mind its causes seem enigmatic and its results inconclusive. Not even the current bicentennial commemoration seems to arouse much interest or enthusiasm.

It seems a shame, though, that Scott’s reputation has been reduced to a derogatory nickname.

Old Fuss and Feathers deserves better.

Britain's greatest general knew a PEER or should I say "superior" when he saw one.

[stevep]

Jul 25, 2023 14:38:31 GMT miletus12 said:

Sidebar:

Jul 24, 2023 16:02:17 GMT stevep said:

without Texas the US has no real path for its OTL attack on Mexico in the 1840's

Here is a brief illustration of the Mexican American War. Do you see how the Americans moved?



The Duke of Wellington had something to say about this.

Of all the Great Captains we are examining in this confer­ence, Winfield Scott is probably the least known to the general public. Years ago, when I told people I was writing a biography of President Garfield, a common reaction was “Why?” Later, when I was writing a biography of Winfield Scott, they asked: “Who?”

That was a sad comedown for the reputation of a man who, during his lifetime, was often referred to as “The Greatest Captain of His Age,” and of whom the Duke of Wellington report­edly said: “Scott is the greatest living soldier.”

From this, two questions arise: Did Scott deserve the towering reputation he enjoyed during his lifetime? and Why did that reputation fade in later years among the general public.

First, as to his rise. By present-day standards Scott’s dazzling military career seems highly improbable. He never attended a military school, never even belonged to a militia company, nor was he raised in a military family. But, as a landless, slaveless, fatherless Virginian with aspirations for gentility, he had to make his own way in the world, which meant some sort of profession, since going into trade was deemed declasse. Initially he chose the law but found that drawing up wills and deeds was unsuited to his restless, action-loving nature.

In 1807 a fresh opportunity presented itself. In the wake of the Chesapeake-Leopard affair, President Jefferson called for volunteer military companies to patrol the coast and enforce the Embargo. On an impulse, the twenty-one-year-old law student put away his books, bought a horse, borrowed a uniform and first tasted what would become his life’s work.

Though these ad hoc companies were disbanded once the emergency passed, Scott was hooked. As he later put it: “The young soldier had heard the bugles and the drum. It was the music that awoke ambition.”

By present day standards, this ambition might seem an impossible dream. Scott had none of the credentials which our society demands of a would-be professional. But nineteenth-century careers had a different trajectory than ours. The United States was then a nation of amateurs: few attorneys attended law school, most read law books on their own, did odd jobs for local lawyers, kept their eyes open and learned by experience. Like­wise, neither physicians nor teachers required a state certifi­cate to practice their profession. My earlier biograph­ical subject, James A. Garfield, was at one time or another a profes­sor, a college president, a minister of the gospel, an attorney ­(w­ho practiced before the U.S. Supreme Court) a general in the Union army and a congressman. His formal train­ing for these varied professions consisted mainly of studying Greek and Latin, but for a bright, hard-working young man that, apparently, was enough. Likewise, Scott was intelligent, tall, self-assured and could read French, assets which, given a little luck, could be parlayed into a military career.

But a military career required an active military establish­ment, which the infant United States did not possess, nor did it particularly desire. In 1807, the regular army consisted of less than 3,000 men commanded by about 150 officers. The ranks of the enlisted men were largely filled by immigrants, misfits and drunkards. Many of the officers were superannuated veterans of the Revolutionary War, locked into their commands by the iron law of seniority.

This weakness was no accident. Americans feared that a strong standing army could, as in Europe, be turned against the liberties of the people. In times of emergencies, we preferred to rely on patriotic volunteers or on militiamen, that is, part-time soldiers, drawn like the iconic Minutemen from civilian life and eager to return to it once the emergency was over.

Such a tiny army could scarcely accommodate Scott’s outsized ambitions, so he reluctantly returned to the law. But the very next year, in response to increased tension with Great Britain, President Jefferson doubled the size of the regular army. Scott jumped at this opportunity and it is indicative of the casual, almost slapdash procedures of the old army that, instead of apply­ing for a commission through channels, Scott went straight to the president, with an influential politician in tow, to plead his case. And it is further revealing that Jefferson did not draw upon the military academy he had recently formed but instead rewarded this untested neophyte with a captain’s bars.

Assigned to duty in Louisiana, Scott soon had reason to regret his career choice. He found himself in an encampment seething with feuds, festering with resentments, backbiting and intrigue, commanded by antiquated, corrupt, self-serving incompe­tents, most notably General James Wilkinson. Bored and disillu­sioned, the young captain attempted to resign but was instead suspended from duty for a year for some indiscrete remarks he had made about his commanding officer.

Despite this inauspicious beginning, Scott did not complete­ly give up on a military career. Instead, he tried a new tack. While sitting out his suspension back home in Virginia, he used his enforced leisure to devour books on military history, theory and procedure. Had he attended West Point, he would have learned very little of this, since the Academy at that time was primarily an engineering college (though it did teach drawing and ballroom dancing).

From these studies came his ambition to conduct warfare in the Napoleonic manner: “to conduct sieges and comma­nd in open fields, serried lines and columns.”

Sooner than he could have expected, such an opportunity presented itself. Only a few months after his punitive suspen­sion was lifted, war with Great Britain was declared. Much to his surprise, the young captain discovered he had been bumped two grades to Lt. Colonel and ordered to raise a regiment of volun­teers and proceed with them to the Niagara frontier. There he would spend the next two years in futile attempts to wrest this peninsu­la from British control. In the process he would be wounded, taken prisoner and would command in three major battles.

The first was at Queenston Heights, just across the river from Lewiston, New York. At first the battle went well, until British and Indian reinforcements arrived to tip the scales. American reinforcements were available across the river, but the New York militia refused to cross into Canada on the grounds that they had enlisted to defend New York state, not to invade another country. Scott could barely contain his contempt for those “vermin who . . . no sooner found themselves in sight of the enemy then they discovered that the militia of the United States could not be constitutionally marched into a foreign country!” From this dated his lifelong aversion to amateur citizen-soldiers and a concomitant attachment to the professional sol­diers of the regular army – the “rascally regulars,” as he called them with affection.

Although the battle of Queenston Heights was an American defeat, Scott himself emerged as something of a hero. Unlike other commanders who had abjectly surrendered or had avoided combat altogether, Scott had displayed bravery, initiative and a fighting spirit.

In early 1814, the War Department cleaned house, putting the aged generals of defeat on the shelf and promoting a cadre of younger officers, Scott among them. Three years earlier he had been a disgraced captain serving out his suspension, now he was a brigadier general. In 1812 the average age of an American general had been sixty. Now, suddenly it was reduced to thirty-six, and Scott, only twenty-seven years old, was the youngest of them all.

Alexis de Tocqueville observed that war “breaks down rules and makes outstanding men come forward. Officers, whose minds and bodies have grown old in peacetime are eliminated, retire or die. In their place a multitude of young men, already toughened by war, press forward with ambitious hopes aflame.” He could have been describing the career of Winfield Scott, both at its begin­ning and, sadly, at its end.

For his first command he was given the “Left Division,” a mixed group of about 3,500 regulars, veterans and raw recruits, these would be the material out of which he hoped to forge his vision of what an army should be. At Flint Hill, outside Buffa­lo, he established a training camp not, as he claimed­, the first such camp, but by far the most rigorous. For two months the men were drilled ten hours a day, seven days a week. After breakfast, corporals drilled their squads; before lunch, captains drilled entire companies; and in the afternoon the whole brigade was put through its paces by Scott himself. No detail was overlooked, including the proper way to bake bread, the location of latrines and the frequency of bathing. Discipline was main­tained through professional pride rather than fear. The brutal punish­ments, so common in all armies, were kept to a minimum, but officers who struck enlisted men were suspended from duty.

Scott’s efforts were complicated by the strange fact that the U.S. army had no standard drill or tactical manuals, which could make for fatal confusion when different units fought side by side. He patched together a system of drill based on French models, which he used as a stopgap but which he vowed to improve after the war if he should be spared.

After two months of this regimen, Scott was confident that his “handsome little army” was ready to be tested. He was not disappointed. On July 5, 1814, while advancing up the Niagara Peninsula, he stumbled across a well-positioned British army outside of the village of Chippewa. In the brief 90 minutes of fighting that followed, Scott’s hastily trained amateurs stood as firm against British volleys as if they were on the parade ground. In the face of their determination, it was the famed “thin red line” of British veterans of the Napoleonic Wars that broke and ran for safety.

Three weeks later, Scott caught up with them at Lundy’s Lane, near Niagara Falls. Both sides claimed victory in this bloody encounter, with the Americans winning tactical honors while the British maintained their strategic control of the Niagara Pen­insula.

From the standpoint of morale, however, the Americans were the clear winners. At this stage in this dispiriting war, even a hollow victory was something to cheer about. And Scott, now a Major General (the army’s highest rank since the retirement of Lt. Gen. Washington), found himself America’s number one milita­ry hero, a distinction he would have to surrender within a few months to Andrew Jackson.

To make matters worse, Jackson’s smashing victory near New Orleans over the cream of British regulars was accomplished with a ragtag assemblage of frontier militiamen, free Blacks and Gulf pirates, rather than the highly trained regulars of Scott’s ideal army. As Scott realized, to his dismay, “Jackson and the Western militia seem likely to throw all other generals and the regular troops into the background.”

This foreshadowed the half-century split between competing visions of the role of the American military. On the one side were such presidents as Jefferson, Jackson and Polk and various frontier-schooled generals, such as Edmund Pendleton Gaines, who considered a standing army as an expensive luxury, as likely to be turned against the people’s liberties as against its enemies. They advocated a bare-boned regular army which could be augmented in time of crisis by militiamen and patriotic volun­teers. “Pluck” and common sense, they maintained, were more important than so-called military “science” derived from Frenchi­fied books. As Gaines insisted: “The brave people of the West need no other preparation than what their own strong arms, good rifles, and sound hearts will at the moment furnish.”

To counter this outdated Minuteman tradition, Scott set to work creating the basis for a trained professional army. His chief weapon between wars was the pen. He wrote drill instruc­tions, tactical manuals for each branch of the service and, his magnum opus, the General Regulations for the Army (or Scott’s Institutes, as he preferred to call it). In this handbook he codi­fied and systematized all army procedures from baking bread to winning battles, with instructions along the way as to how to clean uniforms, pack knapsacks and conduct court martials. A modern business historian has called the book “the first compre­hensive management manual published in the United States,” and it has even been claimed that the operating manual for the Baltimore and Ohio railroad was patterned after it.

Despite these later accolades, many of Scott’s fellow offi­cers, whose experience was largely gained in fighting Indians, scoffed at such impractical “scientific” notions, which they dismissed as unsuitable to American conditions. Courage and energy, they insisted, were far more important than book learn­ing.

They had a point. Later, in the 1830’s, when Scott was put in command of the war against the Seminole Indians in Florida, he devised an elaborate scheme to trap the Indians in a double envelopment similar to that employed by Hannibal at Cannae. It failed, of course. The swamps of Florida were not the plains of Tuscany and the Seminoles easily slipped out of Scott’s clumsy trap. Back in Washington, Andrew Jackson, now President, and himself a seasoned Indian fighter grumbled: “It is the first time that a scientific combined military movement has been attempted against Indians, and I hope … it will be the last.”

But Scott’s critics were locked into the past. The era of Indian fighting was drawing to a close; more and more the Ameri­can military would be required to fight that European style warfare which Scott had made his life study. His great opportu­nity came with the war with Mexico. Although Scott did not approve of the war (nor, for that matter, did Grant) this war was his chance to put into practice the study of a lifetime

He almost missed it. Although by this time he had risen to Commanding General of the Army and seemed the logical choice to lead it into Mexico, President Polk was reluctant to assign him to the command. He doubted whether the sixty-year-old general was sufficiently vigorous for such a campaign and feared that he was too “scientific and visionary in his ways.” Scott, like Zachary Taylor, was a Whig and the Democrat Polk was all too aware of how Andrew Jackson and William Henry Harrison had ridden their military success into the White House.

On further reflection, Polk considered that Scott, if successful, might neutralize Taylor’s growing popularity and perhaps divide the Whigs. Furthermore, as a wily advisor sug­gested, Polk could allow Scot to win the war and then find some excuse to “take the wind out of his sails.”

The unwary general set sail full of gratitude for the Presid­ent’s professions of confidence. His strategic plan was simple and direct: land at Vera Cruz and head straight for Mexico City, following the path blazed by Cortez three centuries earli­er. (Could he have been influenced by Prescott’s Conquest of Mexico which had been recently published?)

The strategy might be simple but its execution was full of perils. Two mountain ranges lay between the coast and the capital, and the 280-mile National Highway was defended by a Mexican army far from contemptible. Considerably larger than Scott’s force, its officers had been schooled in their country’s endemic civil wars and some had even used Scott’s manuals to train their soldiers, who were largely peasants accustomed to obeying orders and enduring hardships. They were fighting on home ground, with all its advantages in supply and familiarity. I won’t burden this group with a battle-by-battle narrative of Scott’s epic march. But it should be pointed out that in order to succeed Scott had to win every battle; losing even one would have proved fatal.

His tactics were straight out of the textbooks he himself had written: scout the terrain carefully; preserve the initiative by compelling the enemy to respond to his moves; maintain the elements of deception and surprise; and avoid frontal attacks in favor of turning movements. Above all, he had to keep his eye on the main goal and not be distracted by secondary targets, however tempting.

Yet he was not always a slave to the book (even if he did write it). At one point he found himself deep in Mexican terri­tory unable to spare the men to guard his supply line and lines of retreat. This was his nightmare scenario which freshman plebes at the Academy were taught to avoid. Scott simply threw away the book and continued his march, living off the country.

President Polk was appalled at this “great military error” and a greater authority, the aged Duke of Wellington, declared: “Scott is lost,” but his audacity was not lost on junior offi­cers, such as Lee, Grant and Sherman, who, decades later, would model their own campaigns on that of Scott’s.

It was an impressive model to follow: in six months he marched almost 300 miles, fought seven major battles against larger armies that were entrenched in positions of their own choosing. The Duke of Wellington was reported to have said that for this campaign “unsurpassed in military annals,” Scott had proven himself “the greatest living soldier.” Scott himself gave full credit to that bastion of military professionalism, West Point. “I will say to my dying bed that but for the Mili­tary Academy I never could have entered the basin of Mexico.”

President Polk disagreed. He claimed that the gallant American soldiers could have won the war “if there was not an officer among them.” Within a few months the vindictive presi­dent managed to contrive an excuse to strip Scott from his command and recall him to Washington, far from his scene of triumph. Scott, of course, would continue as Commanding General of the Army and would retain that position through the first year of the Civil War. By that time, he was 75 years old and unable to mount a horse without the aid of a stepladder. Yet he was still competent enough to supervise the raising of the immense army which the secession crisis required.

What to do with that army was a question to which he gave considerable thought, based on his experience over the past half century. The Anaconda Plan he devised (although he never used that name) was designed to end the war with a minimum of fight­ing, for he was convinced that the secession impulse was actual­ly weak but that an invasion of the South, with bloody battles, would only inflame Southern nationalism and lead to a long and possibly disastrous war. Consequently, he proposed cutting the Confederacy off from the world by blockading its coasts and by seizing the Mississippi and Ohio rivers. Thus isolated, the South would stew in its own juice, while time would allow for sober second thoughts to prevail.

This strategy of masterly inactivity overestimated the patience of the North and underestimated the determination of the South. With Northern newspapers and politicians screaming “On to Richmond,” the temptation to strike a military blow against the Rebels proved irresistible and that, as Scott had predicted, unleashed a long and bloody war.

It was not the sort of war his experience had prepared him to direct, and before the year was over he was eased out of command, leaving the war to be fought by the younger officers he himself had trained. His half-century military career was over.

And with that, his memory began to fade from the public consciousness. The hero of two wars, the conqueror of Mexico who professionalized our army, is remembered, if at all, by the derisive nickname: “Old Fuss and Feathers.”

The late historian, T. Harry Williams suggested a reason for this neglect. He divided American military heroes into two categories: The Macs and the Ikes. The Ikes, such as Zachary Taylor, U.S. Grant and, of course, Dwight Eisenhower, embodied democratic values in their behavior. Taylor dispensed with uniforms and medals and would stroll through camp, often unrecognized, and chat with his men. Grant, famously, dressed in a private’s uniform, with his general’s stars pinned to his shoulder straps

The Macs: George McClellan, Douglas Macarthur and Scott, demanded all the perks and deference due to their exalted rank. Scott, according to Grant, “always wore all the uniform pre­scribed or allowed by law,” and, like McClellan, made sure the soldiers were lined up to cheer him as he rode by. Americans may respect the Macs, but they love the Ikes.

And, it must be admitted, Scott was not particularly love­able. Vain, contentious and quarrelsome, he engaged in bitter feuds with fellow officers, politicians, Secretaries of War and Presi­dents throughout his career. Proud, pompous, petulant and pedantic, he held himself aloof, even to his friends, History is often unjust, and it seems a shame that Scott’s personal quirks and foibles should have obscured the memory of his many accom­plishments.

Even those accomplishments seem less significant with the passing years. Americans revere those heroes who fought for a noble cause: Washington for liberty and independence; Grant for Freedom and Union; Eisenhower to save civilization from a new barbarism. But to fight for Texas? It doesn’t seem to rise to quite the same exalted level. And Scott’s earlier service in the War of 1812 sounds no trumpets either, since to the public mind its causes seem enigmatic and its results inconclusive. Not even the current bicentennial commemoration seems to arouse much interest or enthusiasm.

It seems a shame, though, that Scott’s reputation has been reduced to a derogatory nickname.

Old Fuss and Feathers deserves better.

Britain's greatest general knew a PEER or should I say "superior" when he saw one.

  I can think of one or two who might have a stronger claim to the title than Wellington although it would be a matter of interpretation.

  Yes the killing blow was by sea, which I suspect is what your referring to but what excuse for such an attack and for then annexing vast areas of Mexican territory would the US have with no land border with Mexico to organise a border dispute over.

[miletus12]

Jul 25, 2023 16:22:09 GMT stevep said:

Jul 25, 2023 14:38:31 GMT miletus12 said:

Sidebar:

Here is a brief illustration of the Mexican American War. Do you see how the Americans moved?



The Duke of Wellington had something to say about this.

Britain's greatest general knew a PEER or should I say "superior" when he saw one.

  I can think of one or two who might have a stronger claim to the title than Wellington although it would be a matter of interpretation.

  Yes the killing blow was by sea, which I suspect is what your referring to but what excuse for such an attack and for then annexing vast areas of Mexican territory would the US have with no land border with Mexico to organise a border dispute over.

You have four other generals I consider good: Montgomery, Slim, the Duke of Marlborough and Cromwell, but that is about it. NONE of them was that much better than Wellington, except Slim.  

I have referred to California as a causus belle for the Mexican War. You will notice the Fremont expedition? It was on its way BEFORE the Texas border incident. Polk was after it, came Hades or Hiram.    
    
Before we derail this thread, perhaps we should open a Mexican American War thread. I really have no interest in it yet, since I have three major threads going on more interesting subjects, but have at it, if you want.      

[stevep]

Jul 25, 2023 16:41:27 GMT miletus12 said:

Jul 25, 2023 16:22:09 GMT stevep said:

  I can think of one or two who might have a stronger claim to the title than Wellington although it would be a matter of interpretation.

  Yes the killing blow was by sea, which I suspect is what your referring to but what excuse for such an attack and for then annexing vast areas of Mexican territory would the US have with no land border with Mexico to organise a border dispute over.

You have four other generals I consider good: Montgomery, Slim, the Duke of Marlborough and Cromwell, but that is about it. NONE of them was that much better than Wellington, except Slim.  

I have referred to California as a causus belle for the Mexican War. You will notice the Fremont expedition? It was on its way BEFORE the Texas border incident. Polk was after it, came Hades or Hiram.    
    
Before we derail this thread, perhaps we should open a Mexican American War thread. I really have no interest in it yet, since I have three major threads going on more interesting subjects, but have at it, if you want.      

  I know hostility was planned before the formal war started.  However the same factor applies.  Without Louisiana you are going to have great difficulty reaching California.  Especially if the Columbia/Oregon territory is resolved differently.

  I know you think US military conquest is inevitable and correct but the evidence suggests otherwise.