Eliot Cohen argues that the battles America fought along the corridor connecting New York with Canada shaped the way the U.S. has approached warfare down through the years. Check out his editorial in today’s Wall Street Journal, a sample of the arguments in his forthcoming book.
Tag Archives: French and Indian War
I’m reading Stephen Brumwell’s excellent Redcoats: The British Soldier and War in the Americas, 1755-1763. One of his chapters deals with the unique challenges of campaigning in the New World: rugged terrain, severe weather…and insects. Lots and lots of insects.
I usually don’t think much about insects when I read military history, but to a lot of eighteenth-century British soldiers who crossed the Atlantic, they were an inescapable and ubiquitous fact of life. This is the sort of thing that wouldn’t occur to you unless you read accounts from people who were there and experienced it. One of the strengths of Brumwell’s book is his intensive research in first-person accounts, and in fact it’s surprising to see how abundant and rich the primary material from these soldiers is.
This outstanding use of primary sources reminded me of another fine book I read several years ago called City Behind a Fence: Oak Ridge, Tennessee, 1942-1946, by Charles W. Johnson and Charles O. Jackson. Oak Ridge was a town that sprang up out of nowhere, built solely as a home for the effort to create the radioactive material used in the first atomic weapons. Because the city was built so quickly, there was a lot of mud everywhere, a fact that early residents remembered in great detail. Again, this was an aspect of the historical experience that probably would have gone unnoticed if it weren’t for the fact that it was so prominent in the reminiscences of early residents, so the authors gave it the emphasis it deserved.
This is one of the reasons it’s important to be receptive to primary sources. By “being receptive” I don’t just mean consulting them; I mean listening to them as well as asking questions of them. We can get so caught up in framing our questions properly that we miss the things they’re telling us that we don’t even think to ask. These two otherwise unrelated books are both well worth reading, partly because of the questions the authors asked but also because they remembered to listen.
It’s been a while since I’ve posted one of my historic site reviews, but the other day I tagged along on a trip to Fort Loudoun State Historic Area near Vonore, TN. This is another of those fascinating frontier-era sites in East Tennessee that I’ve intended to visit for a good, long while. (It’s funny how you’ll drive hundreds of miles to see a site but go years without hitting the ones in your backyard.)
During the French and Indian War, both sides lobbied America’s tribes for military aid. The British tried to enlist the Cherokee in their war for empire, but Cherokee warriors balked at leaving their villages undefended. In 1756 South Carolina began constructing a fort on the Little Tennessee River to offer protection to these Overhill towns and to help improve trade between the tribe and the British. This fort, named for the Earl of Loudoun, was the first significant European structure in what is now Tennessee.
Colonial alliances between whites and Indians were about as stable as Hollywood marriages, and the relationship between the British and Cherokee was no exception. Indians passing through Virginia angered settlers by stealing their horses. Colonists killed British-allied Indians for scalp money. As reprisals took place on both sides, colonial authorities finally imprisoned a number of Cherokee chiefs in South Carolina. A party of warriors attacked the fort to free the hostages, but the attack failed and the chiefs were put to death.
By the summer of 1760, the same Ft. Loudoun built to cement the Cherokee-British alliance was deep in enemy territory and under a loose siege by the very Indians it was supposed to protect. Promised safe passage, the garrison started a long trek back to South Carolina. They didn’t get far before disgruntled Cherokee warriors attacked them; many were captured and later ransomed, while others (including Paul Demere, the British officer in charge) met extremely unpleasant ends at the hands of the Indians. Maybe the Cherokee were upset that Demere broke the surrender terms by hiding some of the fort’s arms, or maybe they were still upset over the murder of the chiefs held hostage in South Carolina.
Fort Loudoun State Historic Area tells this complex story of alliances made and broken on the outskirts of Britain’s empire. The centerpiece is a full-scale reconstruction of the fort. You can explore the barracks, bastions, guardhouse, commandant’s quarters, blacksmith shop, oven, and some fairly extensive outer works (a parapet, dry moat, and chevaux-de-frise). It’s an impressive structure, and as an added bonus, the view from the elevated rear area is pretty spectacular.
The bad news is that it’s not even remotely similar to the view you would have had 250 years ago—or even three decades ago, for that matter. Originally the ground around Ft. Loudoun was bottomland, but now it’s at the bottom of a man-made lake. In the 1970′s, the TVA—as part of its ongoing effort to improve the lives of Appalachians by putting their homes underwater—dammed the Little Tennessee River, which overflowed its banks and flooded the area surrounding the fort site. In the process, they completely destroyed important Cherokee archaeological sites, sent the endangered snail darter packing, and turned the site of Ft. Loudoun into an island. To make things even more confusing, the reservoir around Ft. Loudoun is called “Tellico Lake,” but there’s another TVA project called “Ft. Loudoun Lake” that’s farther from the fort site than Tellico. Go figure.
One of the Indian town sites destroyed by the Tellico Dam project was Tuskegee, boyhood home of Sequoyah, the inventor of the Cherokee writing system. The park features a couple of reconstructed Cherokee dwellings, one for the summer months and one for the winter months, that illustrate the types of structures found in the villages that Ft. Loudoun was built to protect.
I used to think that the original site of Ft. Loudoun itself was underwater, too, but the reconstruction is on the original spot, although it’s seventeen feet higher in order to keep the reservoir at bay. The idea that the original site got flooded is a common error that first appeared in a Tennessee history textbook, according to the excellent guide who showed my group around the fort. Dressed in full redcoat gear, he was extraordinarily knowledgeable about the site, the life of an eighteenth-century British soldier, the region’s history, and early American history in general. It was one of the smoothest, most thorough tour presentations I’ve heard in a long, long time.
I’ve always maintained that the ultimate test for any visitor center is whether or not any visitor, especially one who knows nothing about a site, can have a fulfilling and interesting tour of the grounds based solely on what they learn from the film and exhibit. I think Ft. Loudoun would pass this test with flying colors; in fact, it’s the best visitor center I’ve seen at any of the state-run historic sites in Tennessee that I’ve been able to visit. A fifteen-minute film covers the fort’s context in the colonial struggle for control of North America, its construction, daily life within its walls, and its eventual fall. The exhibit is small but extremely well-done, incorporating artifacts from the excavations that have taken place at the site over the years. It’s a fascinating look at how the inhabitants of an outpost on the edge of Britain’s eighteenth-century empire lived their lives.
I’ll also point out that if you’re into the French and Indian War, you’d better bring some disposable income with you. The gift shop is stocked with hard-to-find academic titles and really great commemorative prints, as well as the usual souvenir items for kids.
You might want to plan on spending some extra time, too, because Ft. Loudoun isn’t the only historic site in the park. In the 1790′s the federal government built Tellico Blockhouse just a short distance away from where Ft. Loudoun stood, partly to provide the Cherokees with protection from settlers, and partly to domesticate them by teaching them farming and manufacturing techniques. The excavated foundations are now part of Ft. Loudoun State Historic Area, just across the lake from the visitor center and reconstructed fort. The Sequoyah Birthplace Museum is on Tellico Lake too, but it isn’t a part of the state historic area, and unfortunately I didn’t have time to see it on this run.
Normally my Tennessee history interests fall a little bit later chronologically—from the Watauga Association to the end of the territorial period—but this is one of those sites that digs its way into your head and stays there. It compares favorably with any historic site of its size, and it’s definitely worth a visit if you’re in the Knoxville area or on vacation in the Smokies.
I’m working my way through a book that’s been on my reading list for a long time: Fred Anderson’s Crucible of War: The Seven Years’ War and the Fate of Empire in British North America, 1754-1766. It’s a fantastic piece of work that’s set me to thinking about the French and Indian War.
Some time ago, I posted about virtual battlefield touring via Wikimapia, the collaborative website that lets you mark points of interest on satellite imagery. Since the French and Indian War is one of those overlooked conflicts, I thought I wouldn’t be able to find many relevant entries about it, but I was wrong.
It turns out that all those fortifications from the showdown between Britain and France make for some interesting landmarks. Take a virtual visit to Fort Ticonderoga and the Fort Carillon battlefield, Fort William Henry, Fort Necessity, and Forts Duquesne and Pitt. A major thoroughfare runs through the Pitt site, so only a few of the bastions have been reconstructed, but it’s still pretty neat.