QUOTE (Christopher T. George @ Jun 27 2005, 05:58 PM)
QUOTE (John Simkin @ Jun 27 2005, 07:49 AM)
QUOTE (Juan Carlos @ Jun 27 2005, 06:02 AM)
Is there any point in commerating these old, old battles?
As and Englishman I share your views. Once again schools are being encouraged to boost the egos of young people about its successful past. There are far more important subjects to study than old military victories.
Hi Dan
With due respect to John Simkin and Juan Carlos, as a military historian, I really do think there is utility in commemorating what happened in old battles beyond the inevitable breast beating.
I have nothing against studying this event in order to learn about the past. My objection is to the way it is done. I think it is totally inappropriate to celebrate this event. The historian, Adam Nicolson, has written a very good article to today’s Guardian about this. It includes the following:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,3604,1516009,00.htmlThe reality of what the party today will be celebrating is as follows. A fleet of 27 British ships of the line, hardened by years of blockade duty and an epic chase across the Atlantic and back, battened on to a combined French and Spanish fleet whose commanders were without conviction, whose ships were poorly equipped and desperately thinly manned - one Spanish sailor captured after the battle was still dressed in the clown's outfit he'd been wearing when the press gang had picked him up from the theatre in Cadiz.
Everyone on all sides knew the result before the battle began: the British, described in the Spanish press as "los usurpadores de la libertad de los mares" (usurpers of the freedom of the seas), would destroy their enemies. Which is what they did: the figure you will not read in the Daily Mail graphics is the proportion of French and Spanish to British dead. In the battle and in the days afterwards some 650 British sailors and marines died. Over the same period, Nelson's fleet killed 6,500 of their enemies. That Everest of slaughter was no chance effect. Nor was the killing of sailors collateral damage in Nelsonian war. It was the only route to victory. The ships themselves were virtually unsinkable. You won by making the enemy bleed to death. British guns were double- and treble-shotted to slow down the cannonballs, allowing them to ricochet among the crews they were aimed at. Trafalgar was victory by exsanguination.
All ships carried on board the materials with which to efface the gore after the battle was over. In log after log, and in the pursers' accounts, you read of the quantities of whitewash and brushes used to repaint the ships, particularly the spaces between decks where the wounded were carried and the dying died. There was no washing away the blood. It had to be painted over. British officers taking over the captured ships were clearly appalled at the human damage. A British midshipman went on board the Santisima Trinidad: "She had between 300 and 400 killed and wounded, her Beams were covered with Blood, Brains, and pieces of Flesh and the afterpart of her Decks with wounded, some without Legs and some without an Arm; what calamities War brings on."
The real question, then, is: why has this dimension of Trafalgar - which is after all its central quality - been forgotten? What is it about naval warfare of the late 18th and early 19th centuries that makes it more suitable to the mythologising and sanitising tea-partification which lies behind the hoopla down at Portsmouth today? It is no coincidence that all the most popular sequences of historical fiction - the Hornblowers, the Jack Aubreys and the Bolithos - are set in this world. But why is this historical moment the one which is most easily processed and reconstituted as consumable, non-disturbing and even consoling history?
Certainly because we were winning. During the wars at sea with revolutionary and Napoleonic France as a whole, lasting from 1793 to 1815, we killed six times more of them than they killed of us. It is in that sense an anti-tragedy, a happy story with a happy ending.