Barbara Tuchman
"The Zimmerman Telegram"
After World War I broke out (1914), President Wilson saw the role of the U.S. as a mediator rather than a belligerent power, and strove to keep the U.S. out of the war in Europe while communicating to the warring countries his desire for a peace settlement. "Peace without victory", he called it.
"The facts would have forced themselves upon anyone but Wilson, but the armor of fixed purpose he wore was impenetrable. He chose two main principles -neutrality for America, negotiated peace for Europe- as the fixed points of his policy and would allow no realities to interfere with them. ... Intent upon saving Europe, he ignored the mood of the Europeans. Just as he was determined to confer democracy upon Mexicans, ready or not, he was determined to confer peace upon Europeans, willing or not. He had no idea how like condescension his attitude appeared to them. He listened to himself rather than to them. He seemed unaware that two and a half years of fighting a war that was taking the best lives of nations had welded the combatants into a frame of mind in which compromise was impossible. He refused to recognize that each side now wanted tangible gains to show that the pain and cost had been worth while, and each had aims -Alsace-Lorraine was only one, but it would have been enough- that were permanently irreconcilable." (pp. 122-123)
"He felt obliged to be, or at least to act, impartial if he was to have any chace of getting both sides to listen to him. He was convinced that only a negotiated peace could endure, that a dictated peace forced upon the loser 'would be accepted in humiliation, under duress, at an intolerable sacrifice, and would leave a sting, a resentment, a bitter memory upon which the terms of peace would rest, not permamently, but only as upon quicksand.'" (pp. 123-124)
Wilson's resolve for peace was so strong that even the German announcement of irrestricted submarine warfare in the North Atlantic against enemies and neutrals alike (to begin on February 1, 1917), was not enough to push the U.S. into the war. However, after the publication of the Zimmerman Telegram (february to march 1917), in which Germany "invited" Mexico to declare war against the U.S. in an alliance with Japan and Germany -with the promise of help to recover her lost territories in Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona-, in view of Germany's open hostility toward the U.S., Wilson had no alternative but to ask Congress for a declaration of war (April 2, 1917).
"The night before he spoke the public words that were to mark a chasm in our history, he spoke other words to a friend, Frank Cobb, the liberal editor of the New York World, whom he asked to visit him at the White House. They have the quality of last words, like Sir Walter Raleigh's poem before his execution. He could see no alternative, Wilson said, although he had tried every way he knew to avoid war. He said that once the American people entered the war, freedom and tolerance and level-headedness would be forgotten. Moreover, a declaration of war would mean 'that Germany would be beaten and so badly beaten that there would be a dictated peace, a victorious peace... At the end of the war there will be no bystanders with sufficient power to influence the terms. There won't be any peace standards left to work with.' And even at this moment a cry broke from him, 'If there is any alternative, for God's sake, let's take it!'" (pp. 196-197).
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viernes, 25 de julio de 2014
sábado, 24 de agosto de 2013
Surrender at Yorktown (1781)
George Washington in the American Revolution (1775-1783)
James Thomas Flexner
p. 459
In his grotto, Cornwallis received a letter from Washington outlining surrender terms. One sentence filled his heart with dismay. To forseeable propositions, Washington had added: "The same honors will be granted to the surrendering army as were granted to the garrison of Charleston."
When General Lincoln had been forced to surrender at Charleston, Clinton had expressed his disdain for the rebels by refusing to grant the "honors of war" traditionally accorded a defeated army which had fought well. If Washington were to insist on retaliation, the British could not march out of Yorktown with their colors flying -the colors would have to be "cased" as Lincoln's had been. And the garrison, as they advanced to the surrender ceremony, would be further disgraced by being forbidden to pay the victors the compliment of playing a French or an American march. They would be shamefully restricted to march natural to their own army, either English or German. Thus to apply to the professionals in Yorktown what Clinton had thought suitable for American amateurs and barbarians, would disgrace Cornwallis and his officers before all civilized Europe. The British command could only hope that their French opponents would not permit this to happen. Surely, as true soldiers and European gentlemen, the French would realize that equating Cornwallis's sophisticated force with Lincoln's rabble was bizarre.
[...]
The surrender ceremony was set for two in the afternoon of September 19, 1781. It was a clear autumn day with an exhilarating nip of chill; the trees had hardly started to turn brown. On both sides of a main road out of Yorktown, the allies drew up their armies, each two ranks deep: the Americans on the right side, the French on the left. The narrow passage between the files was a half-mile long. A the far end, the general officers waited on horseback: Washington and Rochambeau, Chastellux and Lincoln, and many other. [...]
For a while, the bands played: the French "magnificently", the Americans "moderately well". Then a nervous silence sank over the conquering armies. Finally, from a distance, approaching music could be heard. The tune was slow, melancholy: Washington recognized "The World Turned Upside Down."
[...]
As the Britons and Hessians moved between the contrasting lines, the band still playing its melancholy air, the officers ordered their men to turn their heads to the right, acknowledging their French conquerors, ignoring the American. Lafayette, who had stationed himself proudly beside the tattered division, shouted an order. A fife and drum corps broke into the puckish irreverence of the tune the French called "Janckey-Dudle." The British were startled into looking at the men who were to reap the true advantage from victory.
As the head of the surrendering column approached closer, Washington stared with puzzlement at the enemy commander. The American could have little idea of what Cornwallis looked like, but surely the Earl was not young and Irish of feature, did not look so much like a buck from the gambling halls. The man, indeed, bore the insignia of only a brigadier general. Coming to the end of the long troop-lined passage, the British leader turned his horse toward the French general officers, rode up, and asked which one was Rochambeau.
Divining the brigadier's intention of offering his sword to the French commander, Dumas, interposed. "You are mistaken. The Commander in Chief of our army is on the right."
The British officer was forced to turn and ride over to Washington. He explained that Earl Cornwallis was indisposed: he was Brigadier General Charles O'Hara. He offered Washington his sword.
Washington refused it. Since the British had chosen to send a subordinate, one of Washington's subordinates would accept the surrender and give orders to the surrendered army. Washington indicated General Lincoln (whose capture at Charleston was being avenged). With the nonchalance of an aristocratic gambler whose chips have been gathered up from the board, O'Hara went through the ceremony with Lincoln.
From Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surrender_of_Lord_Cornwallis):
In the center of the scene, American General Benjamin Lincoln appears mounted on a white horse. He extends his right hand toward the sword carried by the surrendering British officer, General Charles O'Hara, who heads the long line of troops that extends into the background. To the left, French officers appear standing and mounted beneath the white banner of the royal Bourbon family. On the right are American officers beneath the Stars and Stripes; among them are the Marquis de Lafayette and Colonel Jonathan Trumbull, the brother of the painter. General George Washington, riding a brown horse, stayed in the background because Cornwallis himself was not present for the surrender. The Comte de Rochambeau is on the left center on a brown horse.
James Thomas Flexner
p. 459
In his grotto, Cornwallis received a letter from Washington outlining surrender terms. One sentence filled his heart with dismay. To forseeable propositions, Washington had added: "The same honors will be granted to the surrendering army as were granted to the garrison of Charleston."
When General Lincoln had been forced to surrender at Charleston, Clinton had expressed his disdain for the rebels by refusing to grant the "honors of war" traditionally accorded a defeated army which had fought well. If Washington were to insist on retaliation, the British could not march out of Yorktown with their colors flying -the colors would have to be "cased" as Lincoln's had been. And the garrison, as they advanced to the surrender ceremony, would be further disgraced by being forbidden to pay the victors the compliment of playing a French or an American march. They would be shamefully restricted to march natural to their own army, either English or German. Thus to apply to the professionals in Yorktown what Clinton had thought suitable for American amateurs and barbarians, would disgrace Cornwallis and his officers before all civilized Europe. The British command could only hope that their French opponents would not permit this to happen. Surely, as true soldiers and European gentlemen, the French would realize that equating Cornwallis's sophisticated force with Lincoln's rabble was bizarre.
[...]
The surrender ceremony was set for two in the afternoon of September 19, 1781. It was a clear autumn day with an exhilarating nip of chill; the trees had hardly started to turn brown. On both sides of a main road out of Yorktown, the allies drew up their armies, each two ranks deep: the Americans on the right side, the French on the left. The narrow passage between the files was a half-mile long. A the far end, the general officers waited on horseback: Washington and Rochambeau, Chastellux and Lincoln, and many other. [...]
For a while, the bands played: the French "magnificently", the Americans "moderately well". Then a nervous silence sank over the conquering armies. Finally, from a distance, approaching music could be heard. The tune was slow, melancholy: Washington recognized "The World Turned Upside Down."
[...]
As the Britons and Hessians moved between the contrasting lines, the band still playing its melancholy air, the officers ordered their men to turn their heads to the right, acknowledging their French conquerors, ignoring the American. Lafayette, who had stationed himself proudly beside the tattered division, shouted an order. A fife and drum corps broke into the puckish irreverence of the tune the French called "Janckey-Dudle." The British were startled into looking at the men who were to reap the true advantage from victory.
As the head of the surrendering column approached closer, Washington stared with puzzlement at the enemy commander. The American could have little idea of what Cornwallis looked like, but surely the Earl was not young and Irish of feature, did not look so much like a buck from the gambling halls. The man, indeed, bore the insignia of only a brigadier general. Coming to the end of the long troop-lined passage, the British leader turned his horse toward the French general officers, rode up, and asked which one was Rochambeau.
Divining the brigadier's intention of offering his sword to the French commander, Dumas, interposed. "You are mistaken. The Commander in Chief of our army is on the right."
The British officer was forced to turn and ride over to Washington. He explained that Earl Cornwallis was indisposed: he was Brigadier General Charles O'Hara. He offered Washington his sword.
Washington refused it. Since the British had chosen to send a subordinate, one of Washington's subordinates would accept the surrender and give orders to the surrendered army. Washington indicated General Lincoln (whose capture at Charleston was being avenged). With the nonchalance of an aristocratic gambler whose chips have been gathered up from the board, O'Hara went through the ceremony with Lincoln.
Surrender of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown, by John Trumbull
From Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surrender_of_Lord_Cornwallis):
In the center of the scene, American General Benjamin Lincoln appears mounted on a white horse. He extends his right hand toward the sword carried by the surrendering British officer, General Charles O'Hara, who heads the long line of troops that extends into the background. To the left, French officers appear standing and mounted beneath the white banner of the royal Bourbon family. On the right are American officers beneath the Stars and Stripes; among them are the Marquis de Lafayette and Colonel Jonathan Trumbull, the brother of the painter. General George Washington, riding a brown horse, stayed in the background because Cornwallis himself was not present for the surrender. The Comte de Rochambeau is on the left center on a brown horse.
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