Liquid Courage

Drink: Old Hickory’s Delight

Ratings:
Strength: 3/5 (tank)
Skill: 3/5 (grenadiers)
Rank: 4/5 (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.

Drink: The Picnic Sprint

Ratings:
Strength: 3/5 (tank)
Skill: 4/5 (foreign legion)
Rank: 3/5 (centurion)

[Ingredients:]

• lemonade
• champagne
• corn whiskey
• cucumber sandwiches
• picnic blanket [optional]

[Preparation:]

1. Mix two parts champagne and lemonade in an elegant champagne flute.
2. Sip your beverage while enjoying cucumber sandwiches, preferably while sitting on a red and white checkered picnic blanket.
3. When half of drink is finished, unceremoniously pour in a shot (or two) of corn whiskey.
4. Pound the remainder of the drink, grab the last cucumber sandwich, give a rebel yell and take off running.
5. Insult the manhood and question the honor of anyone you blow past.

Background

“You are green it is true, but they are green, also; you all are green alike.” ~ President Lincoln, addressing a general’s concern about the unpreparedness of their troops before the First Battle of Bull Run.

In July 1861, spirits in the United States were high.  Sure, a Civil War was about to break out, but both the North and the South anticipated a short, glorious affair.  Political leaders on both sides pooh-pooh’d their generals’ concerns about unprepared troops, and demanded action.  The Civil War Bowl Committee selected the fields outside of Manassas, Virginia as the site of the inaugural battle.

The South won the coin flip and elected to defer to the second half (a new rule change that year).

Despite the supposed neutrality of the Bowl Committee’s selected site, Manassas was a sensitive location for both sides.  For the South, its railroad junction connected the Shenandoah Valley to areas farther South.  For the North, Manassas’s proximity to Washington D.C. (merely 25 miles) allowed the Union a considerable advantage in the number of spectators who turned out to watch the battle on Bowl Sunday, July 21st.

Yes, members of the Washington elite, including congressmen and their wives, came to picnic and watch the battle.

Some showed up as early as 3 am to tailgate in their coach-and-fours, drink champagne, and grill cucumber sandwiches.

The Union forces elected to kick off, and it looked like they had the early advantage.  Confederate General Pierre Gustave Beaugard deployed his Confederate forces anticipating a Union attack near the railroad bridge over Bull Run.  The Union forces, led by George McDowell, instead attacked the Southern bench a few miles upstream.  Outnumbered and caught in the middle of a chalk talk with their offensive line coach, the Confederate troops nevertheless managed to slow the Northern assault sufficiently to avoid a rout.  But by the end of the first quarter, the Confederates had been driven back towards the railroad junction.

The momentum swung early in the second quarter when a brigade of Virginian troops, led by one Thomas J. Jackson, stopped the Northern advance in their tracks.  A Southern general exclaimed, “There is Jackson standing like a stone wall!  Rally behind the Virginians!  Ten, three, thirteen, thirty-three, hike!”

The event led to Jackon's famous moniker "Stonewall Jackson," replacing his previous nickname, "Silky Sweet Jackson."

At halftime, the Union troops still appeared to have the advantage, and the Union bleachers were yelling “Scoreboard!” at the few Confederate fans who had driven up in a rally bus.  Things went south for the North in the second half, however.

The hastily-scheduled inaugural Civil War battle (designed to get high telegraph ratings during the summer re-run season) meant that the South did not have time to design new uniforms, or even a flag.  After all, everybody had been in the same Army just a few months prior.  So the Union and Southern forces were both wearing blue uniforms (Lincoln confused his greens and blues).  This caused Union artillery to mistake Jackson’s charging troops for reinforcements.  No one picked up Jackon’s lead blocker, and the Union artillery were annihilated. (Some historians believe that the Union artillery were confused by the Confederate sideline’s chant of “C-S-A! C-S-A!” which sounded similar to the Union sideline’s ”U-S-A! U-S-A.”)

"I say, Methias, those blokes a'comin this way sure look peeved. And the crowd's goin' nuts!"

Contractual issues also turned the tide against the North.  Whereas the Southern troops were mostly rookies years away from arbitration, many Union soldiers were nearing the end of their 90-day enlistments.  When the South gained the upper hand in the afternoon, these troops decided they wanted to live to see their free agency, and fled in rather spectacular fashion.  Shedding their weapons and supplies, they ran past the Union cheering section, who booed them for cowardice even as the spectators themselves fled the field, leaving behind half-finished scorecards, giant foam fingers, and weak-ankled Congressional secretaries.

While the Southern press jubilantly celebrated the victory (and the Southern troops did the “Confederate Shuffle” at midfield), generals on both sides realized that the war would not be over as quickly as the civilian populations hoped.  The South’s disorganization prevented it from pressing its advantage toward Washington D.C., and it was months before the North even considered moving back into Virginia.  For the moment, however, the South beat the spread on casualties and claimed the top spot in the Civil War Power Rankings.

NOTE: The Union referred to the battle as the “First Battle of Bull Run,” while the Confederacy called it the “First Battle of Manassas.”  Least used is the technically-correct name, ”The Robert T. Goodfellow and Sons Haberdashery and Fine Dry Goods Emporium Bowl.”