Tag Archives: Clinton

Winning at Bunker Hill lost America for Britain.

The greatest single victory of the American Revolution in terms of British soldiers killed or wounded was the battle of Bunker Hill. It was won without global strategy, or any real sense of victory. Though the British held the hill when the battle was over, the loss of soldiers and reputation, was such that one can easily echo the comment of British General, George Clinton: “A few more such victories would have shortly put an end to British dominion in America.” How the British came to blunder this way is a real lesson in group-think leading to the destruction of an army of the finest soldiers on earth, made more humiliating because it was destroyed by a band of untrained, leader-less rabble.

By May 1775, Boston was already a major colonial port. British-controlled, but much smaller than it is today, it consisted of a knob-hill peninsula cut off from the rest of the colonies except for one narrow road, called “The Neck,” or The Roxbury Neck. The later name was used to distinguish it from a similar neck road leading that connected the colonies to nearby Charlestown peninsula (Bunker Hill is on Charlestown peninsula). Following the rumpus battles of Lexington and Concord, Boston was surrounded by 15,000 ill-clad, undisciplined colonials who ate, drank, and shot at stuff in plain view of the 6000 trained soldiers and 4 Generals quartered in Boston. The Colonials had set up barriers and cannon at their end of the Neck road. The British army could still leave by that route to demonstrate control of the colonies, but only at a cost — one that kept rising as more colonials came to camp out around Boston.

The British had sea-power though, excellent ships and excellent admirals; the colonies had neither. The British could their navy it to attack anywhere on the American coast, but only at a risk or alienating the colonials. They thus used the sea power judicially. For their attack on Lexington, April ’75, they used ships to take 2000 soldiers from Boston for a naval landing at Charlestown, at the foot of Breed’s hill. The army then marched out over the Charlestown neck towards Lexington. The battle was not a smashing success. Back in Boston, the four British generals: Gage, Burgoyne, Howe, and Clinton, realized that, to quash the revolt/revolution, they had to break out permanently from the Boston peninsula and quarter in Massachusetts proper. They needed to take and hold some easily defended ground on the mainland, preferably high ground. They needed to establish a base with good connections to the rest of coast, and good access to the sea. Looking about Boston, the obvious spot for this base was the heights of Dorchester, a set of hills that overlooked Boston Harbor from the south. Eventually George Washington captured and held these heights causing the British to flee. The heights were undefended because, by incredible ignorance, on the morning of June 17 the British changed their goals, and decided to attack at Charlestown (Breed’s Hill), and not at Dorchester. The victory at Charlestown left Britain with many dead and no good connection to the colonies, just another isolated peninsula barely attached to the mainland by an easily defended road.

What caused four trained Generals to attack at this worthless spot was American disarray: the advantage of America’s mob-rule against British group-think. Each British General saw an opportunity for personal glory at this worthless target – the same group-think that would happen in the Crimean war. Too many cooks spoil the broth, etc. The British decided to attack at Charlestown because the confusion of the American meant that the defense of the city and of Breeds Hill was done incredibly poorly. A poor location was chosen for a fort and only 1200 Colonials came to defend it. We’d meant to build a fort at Bunker Hill, a tall hill overlooking Boston, and we’d meant to build a secondary foxhole on Breeds hill. Digging  at night with much rum and confused leadership (or no leadership), we found, when the sun rose, that we’d built next to nothing on Bunker hill, and a vastly too-large, too deep, square hole or trench at Breed’s Hill: a doubtful redoubt. The trench was open at back, too large for the number of soldiers, and too deep for people to shoot out of easily. Looking with spyglasses from Boston, the British could see that the Continentals had no idea what they were doing, and Gage thought to show them the consequences. British soldiers could easily take this redoubt and the 1200 defenders, and that thought clouded his mind and the minds of his co-generals to the bigger issue: this was not a hill worth taking. Even if the British could win without a single loss, they’d be in a worse position for breaking out of Boston. Even if there were no loosed, the British forces would be divided between two peninsulas separated from the mainland by two neck-roads. Coordinating an attack would be a logistic nightmare, and any one of the Generals should have seen that.

The attack was supposed to work this way: a sea landing at Moulton's hill. two side actions, SA, at the fronts of the Colonial defenses, and a sweeping main attack, MA, at the edge.

The attack was supposed to work this way: a sea landing at Moulton’s hill. two side actions, SA, at the fronts of the Colonial defenses, and a sweeping main attack, MA, at the edge.

But four generals working together were stupider than one would have been. Any one could have remembered why Dorchester Heights was the right military goal, as originally planned. But the group think of four generals, each more gleeful than his fellow at the incompetence of the rebels made attacking there too tempting to ignore. If they could get a superior force of trained men to land at Charlestown, they could have them march forward to an easy victory and personal glory. Against this rabble they might even do it with bayonets alone. The Continentals had too few men, no training, and no bayonets. If the Continentals were able to muster together at all (unlikely), they were unlikely to be able to reload fast or shoot fast — that took special guns and training. The colonials would likely miss with half their shots and then fumble. The British would arrive at the trench before the Continentals could reload. The superior British force could shoot rebels at close range or spear them with their bayonets. There was a small problem the British saw: the Americans had bought a cannon to the hill, and a trained cannoneer could fire grape-shot. They thus decided on a complex attack with a feint to the front and a side run. What they didn’t know was that the Americans had little powder and no idea what to do with the cannon. The British plan was to form a single line, fake an attack at redoubt staying out of range of the grape shot, and then wheel right. That is every British soldier in the line was to turn right and march north to the trench’s right side (the left side if you look as a Colonial). They’d avoid the cannon and take the redoubt from the side. It should have been a piece of cake.

Unfortunately landing the troops and forming them up took longer than expected, and this allowed more Colonials to show up and fix some of the more-glaring errors of their defense. The British discovered they had trouble mustering into an appropriate line for attack because colonials positioned themselves in Charlestown and took potshots at the officers. Meanwhile, the Continentals build up the left side of their redoubt (the side the British wished to attack). The colonials built triangular sub forts (Friches) at both sides of the trench, somewhat in front, and built a rail fence-from the hill to the sea on the left (north) side somewhat behind. The British naval commander wasted yet more time with a cannon barrage from his ships in the harbor. The barrage managed to kill only one colonial, decapitated by a cannon-ball, while the colonials built more defenses and did more sniper shooting. Col. Stark of the colonials put up shot markers at 100 feet from the fence and passed the now-famous instruction: don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes. The assumption is that, at 50 to 100 feet, colonial shooters would not miss while any British who passed the fence would be taken out by the defenders on Bunker Hill.

The second attack at Breeds Hill

The second attack at Breeds Hill

At first the British tried the two frontal attacks described above with a wheel to the north. But this attack failed; it was too complicated. The front line was composed of crack Hessians who marched perfectly in step, but they were wearing their bright red coats and with heavy bear-skin hats (Busby hats) to make them look more formidable. The ground was uneven and mucky, though, and the tall hats kept them from looking down at the brambles and rocks. The result was they moves so slowly that the colonials had time to fire once and reload. The cannon was never used, but those Hessians who survived the first shots never managed to wheel. Meanwhile, the main attack at the rail fence failed because a colonial fired early by mistake. The British force (bigger mistake) stopped and fired back, more or less in range. Hearing the shooting, more Colonials showed up and shot British soldiers using the fence to steady their aim. A few British got past the fence and got shot by retreating Americans and by the garrison on Bunker Hill. The rest were called back, allowing the British to re-muster, and allowing the Americans to reload and reposition.

The second British attack used a simpler arrangement, see map above. Three ranks of soldiers where mustered to march straight towards the fort while the generals burnt Charlestown as a way of stopping the snipers (see painting below). But the Colonials rearranged themselves. More colonials wandered onto the peninsula, and built a quick platform in the redoubt so they could shoot better over the top. Some defenders of Bunker Hill — folks who’d seen little action so far — moved forward to defend the fence, and some Colonial soldiers wandered off, too. The British attacked without  trying to wheel, and the result was many British dead or wounded. The attack was called off.

The second attack: Three ranks and no Busby hats this time, with Charlestown burning in the background. Their's not to question why, their's but to do and die.

The second attack: Three ranks and no Busby hats this time, with the dead strewn around and Charlestown burning in the background. Their’s not to question why; their’s but to do and die. Painting by Pyle.

Eventually, the British organized their men for a third attack, adding some 400 marines (ship-board soldiers) plus some 200 wounded who were ordered to re-muster. This attack would be even simpler than the last. The men were arranged in columns, not rows, and sent straight up to the front of the fort. The folks in front were killed, but the attack worked in part because it robbed the Colonials of ammunition. While the British managed to take the fort this time, most of the defenders avoided capture. They retreated across the neck and rejoined the main mob. The British captured or killed some 400 colonials at the expense of 1,054 men lost (226 killed in the immediate battle) including most of their junior officers. The British also lost the sense of invincibility; colonials could inflict serious damage at minimal cost.

The Colonials were able to pick off British officers because they dressed better than the rest — a mistake the British would keep making. At Bunker Hill, the British lost 1 lieutenant colonel (killed), 5 majors (3 killed), 34 captains (7 killed) 41 lieutenants (9 killed), 57 sergeants (15 killed), and 13 drummers (1 killed). A lesson: don’t dress so fancy. More importantly, the British forces were now divided between two peninsulas. The men defending these peninsulas were now unavailable to attack at Dorchester heights. That is, it was a costly victory that cost the British forces the escape from Boston that they needed if they were to hold the colonies. By January 1776 the British left Boston by ship and left Charlestown peninsula as well. They would try again in 1776 and 1777, but by then the continental army would be more of an army and less of a rabble with rifles. A lesson for life: only fight for something that you really want, otherwise your win may be a loss.

After the battle, General Burgoyne blamed Generals Clinton, Howe, and Gage for the loss of men and opportunity. As a result — stung by Burgoyne’s blame — Clinton and Howe idid not come Burgoyne’s aid at Albany in June 1777. Instead, Clinton sent Howe to attack the continental congress at Philadelphia, leaving Burgoyne to defend himself, brilliant general that he claimed to be. Burgoyne lost his army and reputation, and Howe succeeded, at least a little. Philadelphia was captured, but the Continental congress fled, and Burgoyne’s defeat led to the French joining in on our side. Burgoyne was not willing to take any blame, it seems to me, because he could not see that chaos in war is far better than group-think of even the best generals.

The colonial chaos was horrible, but it was fixable. The group mistakes on the British side were not as bad, but they were impossible to fix since they evolved so much coordinated effort. Had there been fewer British generals in command, the better-trained British army would have beaten (In my opinion) a far better defense at Charlestown, or they would have ignored Charlestown and attacked a modestly defended Dorchester and won the war. General Howe beat Washington repeatedly at New York and New Jersey in the summer and fall of 1776 using the same soldiers who lost at Bunker Hill. It was only George Washington’s genius that saved some semblance of an army to keep fighting into 1777. In general, I note that the American military survives chaos and fractured leadership better than most militaries do because we are, by nature, chaotic. As Bismarck would try to explain: “God protects children, fools, and the United States of America.”

Robert Buxbaum, August 16, 2015. There were several other howler mistakes of the American Revolution. They were mostly of the same type: the British taking victories that they didn’t want, and losing opportunities that they did. One missed opportunity: they did not capture Adams and Hancock. The two fled to the Continental congress in Philadelphia where they did more mischief than they could have done in Boston. Don’t attack readily, but if you do, make sure you win.

A Masculinist History of the Modern World, pt. 1: Beards

Most people who’ve been in university are familiar with feminist historical analysis: the history of the world as a long process of women’s empowerment. I thought there was a need for a masculinist history of the world, too, and as this was no-shave November, I thought it should focus on the importance of face hair in the modern world. I’d like to focus this post on the importance of beards, particularly in the rise of communism and of the Republican party. I note that all the early communists and Republicans were bearded. More-so, the only bearded US presidents have been Republicans, and that their main enemies from Boss Tweed, to Castro to Ho Chi Minh, have all been bearded too. I note too, that communism and the Republican party have flourished and stagnated along with the size of their beards, with a mustache interlude of the early to mid 20th century. I’ll shave that for my next post.

Marxism and the Republican Party started at about the same time, bearded. They then grew in parallel, with each presenting a face of bold, rugged, machismo, fighting the smooth tongues and chins of the Democrats and of Victorian society,and both favoring extending the franchise to women and the oppressed through the 1800s against opposition from weak-wristed, feminine liberalism.

Marx and Engles (middle) wrote the Communist Manifesto in 1848, the same year that Lincoln joined the new Republican Party, and the same year that saw Louis Napoleon (right) elected in France. The communists both wear full bards, but there is something not-quite sincere in the face hair at right and left.

Marx and Engels (middle) wrote the Communist Manifesto in 1848, the same year that Lincoln joined the new Republican Party, and the same year that saw Louis Napoleon (right) elected in France. The communists both wear full bards, but there is something not-quite sincere in the face hair at right and left.

Karl Marx (above, center left, not Groucho, left) founded the Communist League with Friedrich Engels, center right, in 1847 and wrote the communist manifesto a year later, in 1848. In 1848, too, Louis Napoleon would be elected, and the same year 1848 the anti-slavery free-soil party formed, made up of Whigs and Democrats who opposed extending slavery to the free soil of the western US. By 1856 the Free soils party had collapsed, along with the communist league. The core of the free soils formed the anti-slavery Republican party and chose as their candidate, bearded explorer John C. Fremont under the motto, “Free soil, free silver, free men.” For the next century, virtually all Republican presidential candidates would have face hair.

Lincoln the Whig had no beard -- he was the western representative of the party of Eastern elites. Lincoln the Republican grew whiskers. He was a log-cabin frontiersman, rail -splitter.

Lincoln, the Whig, had no beard — he was the western representative of the party of eastern elites. Lincoln, the Republican, grew whiskers. He was now a log-cabin frontiersman, rail-splitter.

In Europe, revolution was in the air: the battle of the barricades against clean-chined, Louis Napoleon. Marx (Karl) writes his first political economic work, the Critique of Political Economy, in 1857 presenting a theory of freedom by work value. The political economic solution of slavery: abolish property. Lincoln debates Douglas and begins a run for president while still clean-shaven. While Mr. Lincoln did not know about Karl Marx, Marx knew about Lincoln. In the 1850s and 60s he was employed as a correspondent  for the International Herald Tribune, writing about American politics, in particular about the American struggle with slavery and inflation/ deflation cycles.

William Jennings Bryan, 3 time Democrat presidential candidate, opponent of alcohol, evolution, and face hair.

William Jennings Bryan was three-times the Democratic presidential candidate; more often than anyone else. He opposed alcohol, gambling, big banks, intervention abroad, monopoly business, teaching evolution, and gold — but he supported the KKK, and unlike most Democrats, women’s suffrage.

As time passed, bearded frontier Republicans would fight against the corruption of Tammany Hall, and the offense to freedom presented by prohibition, anti industry sentiment, and anti gambling laws. Against them, clean-shaven Democrat elites could claim they were only trying to take care of a weak-willed population that needed their help. The Communists would gain power in Russia, China, and Vietnam fighting against elites too, not only in their own countries but American and British elites who (they felt) were keeping them down by a sort of mommy imperialism.

In the US, moderate Republicans (with mustaches) would try to show a gentler side to this imperialism, while fighting against Democrat isolationism. Mustached Communists would also present a gentler imperialism by helping communist candidates in Europe, Cuba, and the far east. But each was heading toward a synthesis of ideas. The republicans embraced (eventually) the minimum wage and social security. Communists embraced (eventually) some limited amount of capitalism as a way to fight starvation. In my life-time, the Republicans could win elections by claiming to fight communism, and communists could brand Republicans as “crazy war-mongers”, but the bureaucrats running things were more alike than different. When the bureaucrats sat down together, it was as in Animal Farm, you could look from one to the other and hardly see any difference.

The history of Communism seen as a decline in face hair. The long march from the beard to the bare.

The history of Communism seen as a decline in face hair. The long march from the beard to the bare. From rugged individualism to mommy state socialism. Where do we go from here?

Today both movements provide just the barest opposition to the Democratic Party in the US, and to bureaucratic socialism in China and the former Soviet Union. All politicians oppose alcohol, drugs, and gambling, at least officially; all oppose laser faire, monopoly business and the gold standard in favor of government created competition and (semi-controlled) inflation. All oppose wide-open immigration, and interventionism (the Republicans and Communists a little less). Whoever is in power, it seems the beardless, mommy conservatism of William Jennings Bryan has won. Most people are happy with the state providing our needs, and protecting our morals. is this to be the permanent state of the world? There is no obvious opposition to the mommy state. But without opposition won’t these socialist elites become more and more oppressive? I propose a bold answer, not one cut from the old cloth; the old paradigms are dead. The new opposition must sprout from the bare chin that is the new normal. Behold the new breed of beard.

The future opposition must grow from the barren ground of the new normal.

The future opposition must grow from the barren ground of the new normal. Another random thought on the political implications of no-shave November.

by Robert E. Buxbaum, No Shave, November 15, 2013. Keep watch for part 2 in this horrible (tongue in) cheek series: World War 2: Big mustache vs little mustache. See also: Roosevelt: a man, a moose, a mustache, and The surrealism of Salvador: man on a mustache.