Liquid Courage

On this date in 1820, Thomas Cochrane, 10th Earl of Dundonald, completed the daring capture of Valdivia during the Chilean War of Independence.  Using subterfuge and audacity, Lord Cochrane led 250 men and two ships in a nighttime assault on seven forts bristling with 110 guns, 700 soldiers, and 800 nearby reinforcements.  Cochrane and his men routed the forts on the southern shore of the bay in the night, and the troops guarding the northern shore fled in the morning.

The Chilean capture of Valdivia

Lord Cochrane was invited to the Chilean cause by the (terrifically-named) Bernardo O’Higgins, and became instrumental in securing Chile’s independence from Spain.  Yet the capture of Valdivia on February 3-4, 1820 was only one of Lord Cochrane’s many exploits on or near the High Seas.

Lord Cochrane

Nicknamed ‘The Sea Wolf’ by his French adversaries, Cochrane served the British Navy with great flair and distinction.  Cochrane commanded the HMS Speedy’s14 guns and 54 men in the audacious capturing of the Spanish frigate El Gamo (32 guns and 319 men) on May 6th, 1801.  He was captured during the French Revolutionary Wars by a French admiral who sought the advice of his prisoner.  Lord Cochrane got into a duel at a Maltese fancy dress party because a fellow officer mistook Cochrane’s common-sailor-costume for the real thing.  He was kicked out of British politics and the navy after being found (dubiously) guilty in the Great Stock Exchange Fraud of 1814.  Not one to sit on his hands, Cochrane aided the Chilean, Brazilian, and Greek wars of independence until he was reinstated into the British Navy in 1832.  Considered a brilliant practitioner of coastal warfare, Lord Cochrane planned his missions meticulously and frequently bluffed or disguised his way into victories over numerically superior opponents.  Lord Cochrane is buried in Westminster Abbey, and has served as inspiration for C.S. Forester’s Horatio Hornblower and Patrick O’Brian’s Jack Aubrey.
 
So if you find yourself drinking gin in a coastal port, watching the sun set beyond an old harbor fortress and imagining leading an assault on that position, pour one out for Lord Thomas Cochrane.  He would know how to capture that fort, and with fewer troops than you would think were required.

Drink: Old Hickory’s Delight

Ratings:
Strength: 4/6 (tank)
Skill: 4/6 (grenadiers)
Rank: 5/6 (knight of the realm)

[ingredients:]

• 2 parts rye whiskey
• 1 dash bitters
• 1 sugar cube
• 1 tsp absinthe
• 1 hickory stick or $20 dollar bill

[preparation:]

1. Mix bitters and sugar cube in a glass.
2. Add whiskey.
3. Swish the absinthe inside a chilled (old fashioned) glass to coat the sides.
4. Pour the bitters, sugar, and whiskey mixture into the absinthe-coated glass.
5. Stir and garnish with a hickory stick or $20.
6. Drink slowly and deliberately, after the party is over, and while the band is playing Johnny Horton’s “The Battle of New Orleans.”

Background

In a world…torn by war…sometimes…a few men…are all that stand…between defeat…and freedom…
~promotional tag line from The Battle of New Orleans (1815)

The American Revolutionary War was so successful for the Colonies that they decided to have another war with Britain in 1812.  The newly-United States was roiled by divisive politics and everybody just wanted to feel that way again.  Sure enough, the war ushered in an American “Era of Good Feelings” despite its lack of significant changes to the status quo.  The Battle of New Orleans was a major element of this feel-good war narrative.  Now, the “Battle” was not a collaborative charity rap album, but rather one of the most significant American land victories of the war.  Sadly, it took place after the war was over.

Volume 1 drops this Tuesday! Pick it up at dry goods emporiums near you!

The Setting: New Orleans.  At the time, it was the second largest port in the United States, filled with a dazzling array of consumer goods and beautiful and exotic women, who glided down its streets in fancy dresses, make up, and in slow motion.

The Players: The British landed 8,000 troops on the Louisiana coast in December 1814.  They were poorly supplied for the wet, cold winter.  The three British commanding generals disagreed over whether to push directly towards New Orleans, or prepare for a full-strength attack.  They decided to camp at the Lacoste Plantation, where they played dispirited, soggy games of polo and lost their favorite pack mule to an alligator attack.  Their delay allowed the plucky American soldiers, led by rakish General Andrew “Never Tell Me The Odds” Jackson, to fortify the Rodriguez Canal four miles south of New Orleans.

In a world...torn by war...sometimes...a beautiful spring line...is all that stands...between defeat...and freedom... Lacoste!

Jackson’s troops represented a kaleidoscope of backgrounds, disciplines, and ethnicities.  He commanded Mississippi cavalry, militia from Tennessee and Louisiana, the “Louisiana Blues” (an Irish unit), a free black unit of Haitian immigrants and an “on loan” slave unit, French-speaking pirates, Choctaw Indians, a tough union dockworker from Baltimore, a quiet Jewish kid from Queens, a handsome-yet-naive blond ballplayer from small town Iowa, an educated Dartmouth philosophy major who looked down on his rural comrades, a quiet and deeply pious Hispanic soldier who was not afraid of death, a psychotic and tattooed Arkansas drug dealer who ended up sacrificing himself to save the grizzled seen-it-all-vet who despised him, a tough-but-kindly Kentucky field medic with a family back home who signed up for one more tour because he loved his country but who everybody just knew was going to die, and an uncredited Tom Sizemore.

The machine at the train station was all out of Choctaw For Soldiers

Some touching early moments, in which Jackson’s orders were translated from English into French, Spanish and Choctaw, provided support to the thematic narrative of a war being fought between a homogenous, colonialist past, and a multi-ethnic, pluralistic future.  Still, Jackson and the American public were expecting a huge British attack on the American southeast, and prepared for the worst.

The two sides skirmished inconclusively in late December and exchanged artillery fire on New Year’s Day, 1815.  Men ran for cover as shells screamed dramatically through the air, explosions tore through tents, and occasionally the action lingered on the mud and water covering an officer’s uniform while the audio fell so you could hear him take one rasping breath.  The grizzled vet never flinched as the shells fell, and the rest of the troop looked at him with a mixture of horror and awe.  However, like most everything else, the artillery duel was inconclusive, and the British stopped after three hours when they ran low on ammunition.*

Cut To: The Netherlands, where British and American representatives signed the Treaty of Ghent on December 24, 1814.  This ended the war.  One remembers (doesn’t one?) a young officer outside the Veldstraat, his mouth contorted with the effort of screaming, “They signed the treaty!  The Treaty of Ghent!  Treaty of Ghent!  Ghennnnnnt!” but being drowned out by the roar of an unseasonably bad winter of weather in the Atlantic which slowed the news traveling towards New Orleans.

"Well, glad that's finished. Shall we inform America?" "Yes, but I could really use a drink." "Brilliant idea. I'll call the coach and fours."

Tragically unaware of the formal cessation of hostilities between them, the two sides fought (finally) decisively on January 8th.  The British attacked the American fortifications, but their plan shat the bed.  The troops who were ordered to take the guns on the American right flank got mired in the mud and were twelve(!) hours late.  The British infantry attacking the American center arrived without the ladders needed to climb the fortifications, and were cut down from above, frequently in slow motion.  British General Bakenham was killed, dying heroically while urging on his soldiers as violins played sweetly, somewhere in the background, oh how sweetly.  And all along the line, American soldiers put aside their differences and together fought the British with valor and camaraderie, confirming the thematic victory of the glorious present over the backward past.  In slow motion.

That day, 1994 British soldiers were killed, wounded, or went missing.  The Americans suffered 34 casualties, including the Baltimore union dockworker and that Kentucky field medic we all really liked.  News of the American victory shocked the nation and made Andrew Jackson into a national hero.**  The British returned to their ships to prepare for an attack on Mobile, Alabama, but news of the Treaty of Ghent arrived in a postscript narrated by an uncredited Morgan Freeman, and everybody went home happy.

*One event which was not inconclusive was a touching No Man’s Land soccer match between the two sides, which the British won handily because the Americans had to have the game explained to them, first in English, and then in Spanish, French and Cochtaw.

** Those Choctaw Indians probably regret this one, as the battle made Andrew Jackson famous and helped him land in the White House, where he spent a lot of time screwing over the Native Americans.

Ed. Note: “Pour One Out For” is a new feature here at Liquid Courage.  In it we highlight figures from military history who deserve to have one poured out in their memory.  They may be famous or obscure, their stories funny, tragic, or catch-your-bourbon-on-fire bad-ass, but they each deserve a little of our attention and respect.

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Thomas Jonathan Jackson was born on this date, January 21st, in 1824.  A devout Presbyterian, he attended West Point Military Academy and was the most-promoted American officer in the Mexican-American War.  He was an instructor at the Virginia Military Institute when the Civil War broke out.  Brigadier General Jackson found himself in command of a Virginian brigade at the First Battle of Bull Run.  Under heavy Union pressure, Brig. Gen. Barnard Elliott Bee, Jr. made an exclamation which would forever alter Brig. Gen. Jackson’s life.  While several accounts of the quote exist, one of them is as follows: “There is Jackson standing like a stone wall.  Rally around the Virginians!”

As sharp as his uniform ever got

It is the rare man who can acquire a nickname in the heat of battle from a soldier who dies very soon after (as did Bee).  Stonewall Jackson was a rare man indeed.  An aggressive and tactically brilliant commander, his troops were known for their discipline and courage under fire.  He was the Confederacy’s most celebrated soldier (apart from Gen. Lee), a darling of Confederate women who took the buttons off his worn uniform as souvenirs.  A devout Presbyterian, he disliked fighting on Sundays and was not a vocal proponent of slavery.  He was known before the war for organizing Sunday School education classes for slaves in Lexington.

At the Battle of Chancellorsville in May 1863, Jackson led a surprise assault on an unguarded flank of a Union army, sending them into retreat.  Returning to the Confederate lines after dark on May 2nd, Jackson and his officers were mistaken for Union cavalry and fired upon.  Jackson was hit three times, and his injuries were severe enough to require the amputation of his left arm.  General Lee, upon hearing of Jackson’s amputation, said that Jackson had lost his left arm but Lee had lost his right (ain’t that sweet?).

Jackson developed pneumonia after the surgery, and died on May 10th.  His last words, said in delirium, were battle orders to the air.  But the last part of his orders, delivered calmly and quietly, were thus: “Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees.”  If you find yourself drinking in Virginia (or his birth place, West Virginia, where lord knows one should drink), pour one out for General Stonewall Jackson.