Overlooked Cause of War
John Pauly
Regarding your June package of articles about the War of 1812, I’d like to point out an overlooked incident that helped push the United States into the conflict. On April 25, 1806, three British warships were searching all traffic coming and going from New York Harbor. The merchant sloop Richard was ordered to heave to. What should have been a warning shot from HMS Leander instead struck the Richard, resulting in the vessel’s helmsman, John Pierce, being killed. The captain of the Richard, John Pierce’s brother, rallied the city of New York to demand some sort of action against the British.
At this time only three U.S. frigates were in service. Two were in the Mediterranean, and the other was undergoing extensive refit. There weren’t even any of the detested Jefferson gunboats available in New York.
Not long after this incident, to add more fuel to the fire, three Royal Navy ships destroyed a French warship in U.S. waters off the Virginia capes. The lack of U.S. naval assets gave the British navy license to do as it pleased in American coastal waters. It wasn’t just hunger for land and impressment but interference of American coastal traffic that pushed the United States into war.
A Missed Opportunity?
Lieutenant Commander Wayne Padgett, U.S. Coast Guard Reserve (Retired)
In reading June’s article “America’s Frigate Triumphs” (pp. 36–45), a question came up that may have other readers of the Patrick O’Brian series of novels asking for clarification. In The Fortunes of War, O’Brian has his fictional hero, Captain Jack Aubrey, traveling as a supernumerary on board HMS Java during the December 1812 battle between that ship and the Constitution. Early in the battle, Aubrey is aghast that the British frigate’s commanding officer, Henry Lambert, crosses the stern of the Constitution and does not rake her—thus having the Java throwing away a good edge, if not a win.
Not being well versed in the 1812 battles, I was not sure that really happened. However, your diagram of the battle indeed shows the Java doing just that, i.e., crossing the Constitution’s stern, in position No. 2. As mysterious as Lambert’s failure to take this advantage is the author’s absence of comment on it. Perhaps Lambert did rake the Constitution but she survived anyway. If not, this lapse cost Lambert his life and the survivors their ship.
Can you clarify what happened for the readers—was the Constitution raked or was Lambert remiss?
More Lakes Coverage
James M. Perry
I am a subscriber and fervent admirer of your magazine, but I have a quibble, possibly misplaced, about the June War of 1812 issue. Much as I am dazzled by the amazing saltwater record of U.S. frigates and sloops, the naval war’s only truly significant engagements took place on the lakes—Oliver Hazard Perry’s (no relation, sad to say) on Erie and Thomas Macdonough’s on Champlain. It seems to me you should have given both those engagements a lot more attention. I don’t suppose the Royal Navy ever lost two fleet actions in the same war. Perry’s victory assured that the Old Northwest would remain in American hands and Macdonough’s thwarted the most ambitious invasion ever undertaken of the United States. Great stuff. I am hoping you will deal with those two engagements in a later issue.
The editor responds: We’re planning to cover action on the northern lakes in 2013. Because the War of 1812’s best-known (at least in the United States) frigate duels all occurred relatively early in the conflict, we focused our initial bicentennial package on the war at sea.
Constitution’s Green Sailors
Commander Tyrone G. Martin, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Regarding the June article “The Constitution’s Great Escape” (pp. 32–35), a quick check of the Constitution’s muster roll for Isaac Hull’s time in command shows that over half of his crew—more than 200 men, not “approximately 100”—were new to the ship, many entering in the three weeks prior to sailing in early July 1812.
One saving grace may have been the fact that Hull’s first lieutenant, Charles Morris, had joined the Constitution on the very same day as Hull in 1810, and so the captain had a known associate at the top. The author’s error in this regard may stem from the fact that Morris was absent from the ship on her transfer from Washington to Annapolis, unsuccessfully badgering the secretary of the Navy for a command of his own.
Normandie’s Sad State
J. B. Friderici
The June issue’s “Looking Back” article by Paul Stillwell (“Ignominious Ends,” p. 6) was interesting and had some details about the Normandie loss that I had never read before. However, I disagree with the use of the word “capsized” in the photo caption.
“Capsize” means to overturn. The picture shows a ship that is correctly referred to as “sunk with an 80 degree port list.” If she were a sailing vessel, one could refer to her as “on her beam’s ends.”
When I was in Rescue Coordination Center Cleveland in the Ninth Coast Guard District, we dealt with a multitude of boats no longer floating as intended. One of the controller’s jobs was to write the daily seach-and-rescue summary, which was read by the operations staff and the front officer, including the district commander. If I had ever referred to a vessel in the Normandie’s condition as capsized, I would have heard about it via the chain of command from the admiral on down.
Keep up the good work. You publish pieces that are not available anywhere else.
‘Real’ Mystery of Midway
Commander William E. Brooks Jr., U.S. Naval Reserve (Retired)
As a career editor of newspapers, I have seen “buried leads,” but never one to equal that of “Mitscher and the Mystery of Midway” (June, pp. 46–52).
At the very end of that article author Craig Symonds asks about Captain Marc Mitscher’s “decision to gundeck the story of the flight to nowhere.” That is the harshest of all criticisms, short of a court-martial, for any officer of the U.S. Navy.
The real “mystery of Midway” is why the decisions and actions by Lieutenant Commander John C. Waldron Jr. have been overshadowed. On the basis of facts, his squadron’s actions should be known as the “flight to victory.” On the 70th anniversary of Midway, Waldron should receive a posthumous Medal of Honor.
Waldron defied orders from his air-group commander and was the first Navy pilot to find four Japanese carriers in a single formation. When he ordered Torpedo 8 to attack, he set up the astonishing American action that followed. He achieved surprise and led his squadron in an assault that pulled Japanese fighter cover to the wave tops.
The sacrifice of Waldron’s unit came at the precise moment when Navy dive bombers could attack without opposition. In a matter of minutes, three Japanese carriers were flaming hulks and U.S. victory at Midway was assured. If there is a single American hero at Midway, John Waldron could claim the laurels.
Museum-Ship Success Factors
Fred Tannenbaum
Bravo Zulu to Lieutenant Commander Thomas J. Cutler for his discussion about museum ships (“Keeping Floating Museums Afloat,” August 2011, pp. 52–57). I have followed the fortunes of this community for three decades and would like to offer a clarification or two.
First, I believe the Olympia has been open to the public in Philadelphia since 1957; the story’s wording may lead some to believe that it has been a floating exhibit since 1996, which actually is when it came under the current management.
Second, no doubt that location, weather, and size matter to a museum ship’s success, but these factors can be completely wiped out if a museum-ship organization lacks vision, professionalism, and accepted business and fiscal practices. Historic-ship operators will succeed or fail based on these factors as well. Those failing to take heed in these areas miss enormous opportunities to educate and connect with the public, and to make something old new again.
Vision: No longer instruments of war, museum ships are tools of education, learning, and sharing. Museums must share their stories in a meaningful way, and that means sharing with as many people and demographics as possible. The mission must be capturing the public’s imagination and excitement. To me, successful execution of a vision means reaching out to everyone, including people with no previous exposure to the military, and providing them with a meaningful, enjoyable experience and appreciation of the ship’s history and technology that will keep them coming back.
This brings to mind the need for relevance. Ship-museum operators must know the story their vessel tells—then tell it. They don’t have to make it something it isn’t, i.e., make it overly dramatic. The histories of these ships are more exciting and heroic than fiction.
Professionalism: Lack of professionalism can destroy the vision. Paul Farace, curator of the USS Cod Submarine Memorial in Cleveland, introduced me to the acronym BOGSATTs (Bunch of Guys Sitting Around a Table Talking). It describes folks who have a pie-in-the-sky belief that just getting a ship will result in the world clamoring to run up the gangplank. BOGSATTs never ask the right questions and never seek advice, Paul says. If and when they get their ship, they sink rather quickly.
Some museum-ship regulars are happier with their vessels being their clubhouses instead of sharing them with the visitors. Public goodwill can be lost if visitors are treated in a surly manner, or as intruders or a nuisance instead of being welcomed as the reason the museum ship exists.
Museum boards need to include more museum professionals, especially those who work in the exhibit world. Board members should at least have some sense of history. Their museums frequently fail because they don’t know how to tell an engaging story.
Accepted business and fiscal practices: The business of a museum ship must be transparent as glass and completely aboveboard. Anything less brings dishonor on the star attraction. Financial records should be kept to the nth degree and available for inspection by board members and the public at any time.
Historic vessels need constant maintenance and upkeep and occasionally major work, such as dry-docking. But how many have raised money for trust funds or endowments to support these needs for the future? Financial problems preventing museum ships such as the Olympia from receiving needed, expensive maintenance are not created overnight. The wise operations are the ones planning ahead and saving, rather than waiting for issues to reach the crisis state.
The plight of museum-ship management (or lack thereof) and financial issues have been dealt with for generations. I suggest Naval History’s editors consider devoting an entire issue to these problems and offer strategies and solutions. Perhaps they could publish more information from Historic Naval Ships Association annual meetings.
I realize that our Navy is a fighting force, first and foremost. Its rules for establishing new ship museums are strict and extensive. Many ship museums were “grandfathered in” and opened before those rules were established. Sometimes, I wish the Navy would allow the “grandfather” privileges to expire for museums with chronic problems or noncompliance. The Navy would seek transfer applications from other communities and groups for any ship museum belonging to an organization that cannot meet standards for financing, preservation, docking, and professionalism.
A little harsh? You bet. But the reach of some of these groups exceeds their grasp. And fears over the future of some of these illustrious vessels would cease because they would be well cared for.
My comments echo and expand upon points Norman Cary Jr. makes in “FAQ: So You Want A Historic Ship,” found on HNSA’s website at www.hnsa.org/handbook/faq.htm.