Utmost Gallantry: The U.S. and Royal Navies at Sea in the War of 1812
Kevin D. McCranie. Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2011. 365 pp. Illus. Maps. Notes. Bibliog. Index. $39.95.
Reviewed by David Curtis Skaggs
Among the plethora of bicentennial books describing the War of 1812 at sea, Professor Kevin McCranie of the Naval War College sets an unequaled standard for depth of research and analysis. In Utmost Gallantry, he seeks “a balanced appraisal of the war based on British and American archival sources” and “to place engagements in a broader operational and strategic context” than do previous studies. Within the operational limits he establishes for this volume, he succeeds admirably.
Most American studies emphasize the ship-to-ship duels of the war’s first six months and ignore the ever-increasing effectiveness of the British blockade of the East Coast of the United States. McCranie stresses the latter and declares the war’s turning point to be the inglorious 1 June 1813, when British sailors bottled up Stephen Decatur’s squadron of the USS United States, Macedonian, and Hornet at New London, Connecticut, and when HMS Shannon defeated the Chesapeake off Cape Ann, Massachusetts. McCranie rightfully concludes: “When adding the combat loss of the Chesapeake to the operational loss of Decatur’s squadron . . . the Royal Navy had rendered ineffective in a single day four U.S. warships, or slightly less than half of the total operational strength of America’s oceanic navy.” At the same time the Constellation lay blockaded at Norfolk, from which she never sailed.
For the remainder of the volume, McCranie traces cruises of ships from both sides, recounting their many failures and occasional successes in the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans. It is here that the author’s indefatigable research skills bear their ripest fruit. One cannot help but admire his use of American and British ship logs, and of inquiries into such little-used archives as the Suffolk Record Office in Ipswich, England, where the papers of Captain (later Rear Admiral Sir) Philip Broke reside along with the Chesapeake’s log and the Shannon’s journal. McCranie and the Naval Institute Press deserve high accolades for the superb maps and engagement diagrams depicted throughout the book.
Unlike most scholars of the naval war, this author is not an unabashed admirer of Secretary of the Navy William Jones. Because McCranie concentrated on warship combat, he belittles Jones’ emphasis on using the Navy as commerce raiders. Nor does he see privateering as an adjunct to naval policy, as did Jones. However, too often blame for mission failure is placed on Jones’ shoulders rather than those of his self-serving, honor-hungry captains.
The one problem with Utmost Gallantry is the book’s narrow focus. McCranie confines it to the oceanic war, omitting the conflict on the North American lakes and Royal Navy raids on the American coast from Maine to Louisiana. There is an interrelation between these aspects of the naval conflict that can only be seen through a detailed analysis of their interconnections.
For instance, the lakes effort not only took manpower from the oceanic war, it also diverted money, matériel, and shipwrights from the coastal ports. But the lakes were the one place where the United States could match the Royal Navy, and where two decisive battles and one indecisive campaign affected the war’s outcome more than oceanic operations.
The same can be said for the British decision to engage in littoral raids. Designed to encourage opposition to the James Madison administration and to detract American Army regulars from the Canadian campaign, they did exactly the opposite. By diverting soldiers and sailors from the Canadian operations, London strategists may well have contributed to British failures on Lake Champlain and the Niagara frontier in 1814. For these interconnections, readers should consult George Daughan’s less-well-researched and error-prone 1812: The Navy’s War.
It is to be hoped that Professor McCranie will follow up this volume with a second one dealing with those aspects of the naval conflict omitted in Utmost Gallantry. His talents in research diligence and analytical insight are too well demonstrated to leave us without a complete history of the naval aspects of the War of 1812.
De Ruyter: Dutch Admiral
Jaap R. Bruijn, Ronald Prud’homme van Reine, and Rolof van Hövell tot Westerflier, eds. Rotterdam: Karwansaray Publishers, 2011. 279 pp. Illus. Maps. Notes. Bibliog. Index. $93.19.
Reviewed by Virginia W. Lunsford
This inaugural offering of Karwansaray Publishers’ series Protagonists of History in International Perspective is a valuable contribution to early modern maritime studies. Edited by three Dutch scholars, the handsome compendium of essays surveys the life, achievements, and contributions of Michiel de Ruyter, the great 17th-century admiral from the Dutch Republic. Several pieces also investigate his impact beyond the borders of the Netherlands by exploring the greater world in which de Ruyter lived and worked in an environment characterized by European expansion, the birth of the global economy, significant developments in naval tactics, technology and professionalization, and important geopolitical changes. The contributors themselves are an admirably diverse lot.
Naval historians and specialists in Dutch history will find the essays about specific aspects of de Ruyter’s life and career fresh and illuminating. Jaap R. Bruijn writes about the relationship between de Ruyter and his fellow flag officers in the Dutch Navy. Michel Vergé-Frenceschi analyzes the naval rivalry (and respect) between the admiral and his formidable French counterpart, the Marquis Abraham Duquesne. Henk de Heijer explores de Ruyter’s 1664–65 expedition to West Africa and America, while J. D. Davies considers British perceptions of him during the Anglo-Dutch Wars. Niels M. Probst assesses his role in the conflicts between Denmark and Sweden in the 1650s from a Danish point of view. Finally, Ronald Prud’homme van Reine, in two different pieces, considers de Ruyter’s place in 17th-century Dutch arts and letters.
Other chapters use the admiral’s influence and achievements as a means to discuss broader topics in early modern history. Among these are Karim Bejjit’s look at the relationship between Dutch and North African states, Jan Glete’s exploration of the political and military context, and John Hattendorf’s discussion of the century’s European navies, naval strategy, and naval tactics.
Visually, De Ruyter, Dutch Admiral is a beautiful volume of very high print quality and striking appearance. Especially impressive are the numerous maps and images. The former are large, clear, attractive, to the point, and organized in such a fashion as to be easily consulted. The images are stunning. The book is replete with large, richly colored reproductions of 17th-century Dutch paintings, maps, drawings, and engravings. Indeed, probing essays aside, the illustrations alone are reason enough to peruse this work.
Because it transcends a narrow focus on just de Ruyter’s career and also offers illuminating essays on broader historical topics as well as sumptuous reproductions of Golden Age Dutch art, the book’s title is too limited. A more descriptive or inclusive title would enable potential readers to grasp the scope of what this attractive and informative text actually covers.
One could object a bit, too, to the publisher’s stated historiographical intent for the series (and, hence, for this book as its initial offering). The project’s goal, Bruijn declares in his introduction, is to promote a “collective European historical consciousness,” because “this continent is a collective of nations on its way to unity.” This stated purpose sounds somewhat forced, almost recasting the work as a piece of polished propaganda rather than presenting it as the top-notch, early modern scholarship that it actually represents.
It is to this volume’s credit that it offers views of the admiral from a variety of national perspectives, informs readers that he was well known throughout much of Europe, and that he made contributions beyond Dutch culture and naval history. However, his widespread influence does not necessarily fulfill the contemporary longing for a historical “joint path.” It is anachronistic, in fact, to insert this perspective into a century when European states were at war with one another almost continually. No doubt as the process of integration proceeds, a distinctive sense of European identity and collective consciousness will develop, but this will develop organically and over time
This fairly superficial feature of the book does not permeate the essays per se, even though the editors’ desire to promote a European ethos is the reason they engaged a diverse set of contributors in striving to reveal de Ruyter’s transnational impact. This is all for the good. The admiral was an especially influential and innovative figure in the most powerful navy and most economically dominant nation in the 17th-century world. Numerous accounts of his story exist in Dutch, but studies in English are far fewer. This beautiful work helps to redress the scarcity. In contextualizing de Ruyter, it provides insightful information on aspects of the broader early modern world. Michiel de Ruyter is worthy of such treatment, and the book is certainly deserving of readers’ attention.
Reefs and Shoals: An Alan Lewrie Naval Adventure
Dewey Lambdin. New York: Thomas Dunne Books, 2011. 354 pp. Fiction. $25.99.
Reviewed by Wade G. Dudley
It is January 1805, the birth of a new year in the continuing war against the Corsican Ogre and his allies. Dragged by duty from a warm bed (heated by the lovely but straitlaced Lydia Stangbourne) in Portsmouth, England, to battle the enemies of King George III in North American waters, Captain Alan Lewrie at last hoists the broad pendant of a commodore on HMS Reliant. The challenges before him are numerous, not least among them confronting his eldest son, Seawallis, for the first time since the lad secured a midshipman’s berth for himself after forging his father’s name to relevant documents (a chip off the old block).
The Admiralty has ordered Lewrie and the Reliant to his old stomping grounds of the West Indies and the American coast via Bermuda. Upon arrival, he is to capture or destroy French and Spanish privateers, show the flag in American ports, and investigate rumors of U.S. support of enemy privateers. Along the way he must commandeer ships for his squadron from an unsupportive admiral, worry about the persistent threat of yellow fever, be wary of a French fleet rumored to be heading his way from Toulon, try to avoid the bull-in-a-china-shop approach to diplomacy with easily offended Americans, and keep his pants buttoned (a mutual attachment is beginning to bloom with Lydia). Can he do it? Well, even at the age of 42, Lewrie is still quite the ram cat.
He is also a widower, a father, and a man with many enemies (including the great Napoleon himself). Lewrie cannot escape the past, whether wandering the streets of Nassau with visions of his lost Caroline, the birth of Seawallis, and deserved death of Calico Jack Finney, or being accosted by patriot harridans in Wilmington. Fortunately he has friends of old acquaintance as well, notably Kit Cashman, to help him along in his investigations. In the end, those lead to cruel battle between Lewrie’s squadron and a perfidious alliance of French, Spanish, and greedy Americans in Georgia’s Cumberland Sound and the St. Mary’s River.
Dewey Lambdin may well be the best author of Age of Sail fiction currently practicing the art. His research is frequently impeccable, and his interpretation of life ashore and afloat is always near or on the mark. For example, he captures the Wilmington of 1805 perfectly, from its Cape Fear pilots to the town’s waterfront to the tradition revolving around the Dram Tree. The same can be said for the attitudes of Americans with whom Lewrie must deal: most of them eager for a whiff of British nobility, many still bitter about their hard-earned independence. Even the final battle draws inspiration (and information) from an actual 1805 encounter between British ships and Franco-Spanish privateers.
Lambdin’s writing skills are a perfect match for his research. His well-chosen words capture the feel, the tang, almost the taste of the moment. His characters are immensely believable, either drawn from the pages of history or evocative of the cads, scamps, and occasional good friends that we meet in life. Even Toulon and Chalky, Lewrie’s shipboard cats, come alive with his frequent requests for a hundredweight of treats and several barrels of clean beach sand (the kitty litter of his time).
Yet the greatest attraction in the 14 volumes of the Alan Lewrie Naval Adventures is the main character himself and his coterie of friends, family, lovers, and enemies who appear, disappear, and frequently die. Across the tomes, Lewrie grows from an unknown teenage rakehell intent on leaving the harsh life and discipline of King George’s navy (to which his father had committed him) to a rather famous (or infamous) profligate of middle years who would not dream of leaving the Royal Navy despite its many blemishes. In Reefs and Shoals, Lewrie has a maturity about him that has been for the most part absent until now. Only he questions his leadership and tactical skills, a self-doubt that is laid to rest in the ultimate test of battle. Those whom he leads have no such doubts.
Let none have uncertainties about Dewey Lambdin or his Alan Lewrie: “hearts of oak” both! Reefs and Shoals (and the entire series of novels) is heartily recommended to lubbers and sailors alike.
Turning the Tide: How a Small Band of Allied Sailors Defeated the U-Boats and Won the Battle of the Atlantic
Ed Offley. New York: Basic Books, 2011. 506 pp. Illus. Maps. Notes. Bibliog. Index. $28.99.
Reviewed by Jennifer L. Speelman
In this book, journalist and military-affairs specialist Ed Offley examines the intense struggle for control of the Atlantic between September 1939 and May 1945. The author of Scorpion Down (Basic Books, 2007), Offley seeks to interject the human element into “the longest and deadliest naval conflict in world history and the crucial naval battle of the Second World War,” relying primarily on secondary sources, Internet sites, and memoirs. In particular, he credits Clay Blair’s two-volume Hitler’s U-boat War (Random House, 1996, 1998) and personal U-boat archives, now housed at the University of Wyoming’s American Heritage Center.
Offley succeeds in placing individual sailors within the greater political, strategic, and technological contexts of the Battle of the Atlantic. He concurs with the significant body of scholarship that the battle’s crucial months occurred between March and May 1943. During this period, U-boats reached their zenith before the tide turned in favor of the Allies.
The book unfolds around Allied convoys SC122 and HX229, which departed New York 6 and 9 March 1943 respectively, unaware that 46 U-boats, the largest Wolfpack so far, awaited them. We see the battle unfold from many levels: the headquarters of the Western Approaches Command under Admiral Sir Max Kennedy Horton; the Befehlshaber der Unterseeboote under the command of Rear Admiral Eberhard Godt, who assumed day-to-day control for U-boat headquarters after Gross Admiral Karl Dönitz took overall responsibility of the Kriegsmarine; the naval escort groups and their commanders; the U-boats and their captains; and the merchant vessels, their crews, and Naval Armed Guards.
The author provides biographic information and photographs of the men involved at each of these levels. In addition, appendices detail each merchant vessel in the convoys, including the flag, year built, tonnage, cargo, and fate; as well as the displacement, length, complement, armament, and speed of each escort vessel. Sixteen merchant ships in SC122 and HX229 flew the flags of German-occupied countries, their crews having decided to do their part for the Allied war effort.
The convoys faced impossible odds. The limited range of land-based aircraft made the 600 miles southwest of Iceland, the so-called “Greenland Air Gap,” particularly dangerous. Converted B-24D Liberator bombers could have covered that distance, but Offley argues that interservice rivalry prevented the convoys from having adequate air cover. Equally problematic was the inadequate numbers of warships in Escort Groups B-4 and, B-5, a blanket over German naval intelligence, broken or limited submarine-tracking technology, and challenging weather conditions. B-4 Escort Group Commander Edward C. L. Day believed the situation “amounted to a maritime suicide pact.” The gripping, page-turning account that follows details the loss of 21 Allied ships, 146,596 tons of shipping, and 373 Allied sailors.
The Allies used this defeat to re-evaluate their defense of North Atlantic convoys. Western Approaches Command increased the numbers of VLR Liberators and escort carriers, as well as adding support groups tasked with finding and destroying the U-boats. Allied code-breakers, having deciphered Enigma machine–encrypted messages, figured out the variation in the German naval weather code that had caused the March 1943 blackout and were once again decrypting transmissions sent to U-boat headquarters. The use of centimetric radar and submarine-tracking technology had the desired effect.
The hunters had become the hunted. Nowhere was this more evident than in the Battle in the Fog on 4–6 May 1943, in which the Allied support groups sank seven U-boats and killed 348 of Admiral Dönitz’s elite force. By the end of the war, 27,490 German submariners would be dead, a fatality rate of 70 percent.
Offley’s work reminds us of the human cost of gaining command of the Atlantic. In World War II, 9,500 American merchant mariners died at sea, most of them in the North Atlantic, and another 1,640 Naval Armed Guardsmen lost their lives protecting those same merchant ships. Their British counterparts suffered even more heavily: 37,318 British and Commonwealth sailors perished, as did another 10,777 seamen from German-occupied countries sailing with Allied convoys. These sacrifices made possible the control of vital supply lines to Great Britain, leading to the cross-channel invasion and Allied victory in Europe.