"Amateurs talk strategy, professionals talk logistics" is an aphorism among those who fight wars for a living. In most naval history books, however, logistics is generally overlooked. This alone would make The British Navy, Economy and Society in the Seven Years War, by Christian Buchet a welcome addition to anyone’s maritime history library. The book was originally written in French and published in 1999. This edition is the first English translation of the book.

It is a rare study on maritime logistics. It focuses on the Admiralty’s Victualling Board during the middle of the Eighteenth century. The Victualling Board provided the Royal Navy’s rations.

The book is more than just a dry catalog of facts. It is also informative, readable, and revealing. Buchet provides a comprehensive look at the Victualling Board. He presents a look at the mission and organization of the Board, the bases it used and how they were run, the markets they created, and the men that supplied them. 

Buchet presents a picture startlingly different from the one often-read in popular history or maritime fiction about the sailing-era Royal Navy. Rather than the corrupt and inept organization of popular imagination, Buchet shows that by 1750 the Victualling Board was efficient, effective, and economical. It provided sufficient quantities of good quality food and beverages to Royal Navy warships. It cut prices paid for most commodities over the Seven Years War without sacrificing quality.

Buchet backs this assertion with copious statistics and thorough documentation. He even presents the likely source for modern myths about Royal Navy victualing: an individual fired by the Victualing Board in 1745 for producing spoiled and rotten provisions who wrote a muckraking pamphlet.

Buchet’s conclusions seem obvious in retrospect. A navy whose sailors were fueled by rotten beef, musty flour, rock-hard cheese, and putrid beer could not long remain at sea, much less project power as the Royal Navy did from 1750 to 1815.

His book is also filled with information as amusing as it is informative. The Victualling Board:

These nuggets, with others like them, add a human face to a dry academic topic.

Readers whose interests lie only in the naval architecture of the period, wargamers, and pure model-makes may decide this book is outside their scope of interest. For hard-core maritime and naval history buffs, this is a book worth reading. If you plan to write about the era, it is must-have and must-read. Buchet’s book presents a fresh look at an often overlooked aspect of naval history.

Reviewed by Mark Lardas, League City, Texas

Stephen Chapin Kinnaman's Captain Bulloch: The Life of James Dunwoody Bulloch, Naval Agent of the Confederacy, presents a biography of the foremost Confederate naval agent in Europe during the Civil War. Detailed descriptions and meticulous research reveal the life story of a fascinating individual, and reflect the history of the United States' most devastating conflict. While Kinnaman has successfully brought Bulloch to life, he has avoided critical analysis and presents the image of a man too flawless to be realistic.

Kinnaman's research draws from contemporary newspapers, family papers and correspondence, and military records. He traces the Bulloch family from its roots in Scotland and follows the family's immigration and colonial American experience, before exploring the life of James Dunwoody Bulloch himself. Bulloch's service as a young officer in the United States Navy and his subsequent career in the merchant marine established his talents as an accomplished naval professional. These valuable skills enabled his work for the Confederacy, especially his dominant role in the creation of the Confederate cruisers Florida, Alabama, and Shenandoah, as well as the purchasing and commissioning of Confederate warships and blockade-runners. Kinnaman's narrative explores the decisions and strategies employed by the manager of the Confederacy’s European naval activities, highlighting Bulloch's delicate maneuverings through international law, politics, and diplomacy. 

The biography employs a fascinating blend of the personal and professional elements of Bulloch's life to illustrate the whole man, but while Kinnaman has produced valuable information on this frequently [SR1]overlooked figure of the Confederacy, his claim that Bulloch's "unique talents in the service of the Confederacy were largely responsible for its untimely demise" is both unsupported and untenable in the face of the larger body of Civil War scholarship. While Kinnaman highlights Bulloch’s considerable naval contributions by reviewing his Confederate vessels, organization of Confederate Navy finances, and role in devising naval strategies, no man's actions, no matter how pivotal, can be held responsible for the outcome of this war. The statement is thus more revelatory of the author's devotion to his subject than indicative of a considered analysis.

Interwoven anecdotes, fascinating historical coincidences, and connections to noteworthy figures all enhance the book's readability, especially the Bulloch family's connection to the powerful Roosevelt dynasty. Discussion of Bulloch's post-war career in Liverpool as a British citizen centers on his relationship with his young nephew, future President Theodore Roosevelt. This intriguing history continues to grip the reader even after Bulloch’s exciting international naval career has passed.

Editing errors and typos occasionally distract from Kinnaman's narrative, and prose is littered by many inferences of Bulloch's possible emotions, indicating a lack of objectivity towards the subject—but Kinnaman's obvious passion also engages his audience.

Overall, Kinnaman's biography presents a fascinating account of an important and largely neglected historical character, presented both as crucial figure for the Confederacy and emblematic of the American experience. Though occasionally sentimental, Kinnaman’s narrative serves as a valuable guide to an extensive array of source material, significant and helpful to any researcher of the Confederate Navy. 

Reviewed by Jeneva Wright, East Carolina University

Having published six books in as many years about the western theater Civil War navies, Myron J. Smith, Jr. has established himself as one of the foremost authorities on the subject. His recent works include a biography of a Union naval officer in the western theater, two studies of unique classes of vessels (timberclads and tinclads), two histories of individual vessels (USS Carondelet and CSS Arkansas), and the work under review here, which is essentially a regional study. As with all of Smith’s work, this study is thoroughly researched and densely detailed, at times almost to its own detriment. Readers familiar with Smith’s work will know exactly what they are in for before ever opening the book.

After an opening Introduction and Acknowledgements, a chapter detailing the landscape and environmental conditions of the Yazoo region, and a chapter about the destruction of the Confederate ironclad CSS Arkansas, Smith lays out the remainder of the book as a chronological study of the various phases of the war in and around the Yazoo River, from the earliest Union reconnaissance to the eventual Union control of the entire region by late 1864. Each chapter is thick with detail and the book is well illustrated throughout, particularly with photographs of people and ships as they appear in the text. Coming in at nearly 400 pages, this is literally a blow-by-blow account of nearly two years of warfare. The tremendous amount of detail can make the book difficult to work through at times, but the amount of information is certainly very valuable to researchers looking for a starting point for further inquiry. The bibliography is extensive, including many primary sources.

There are some significant issues that plague this book, and they are the same issues that seem to appear in each of Smith’s works. It is enough to make one wonder whether these are faults of the author or the publisher, as all of Smith’s recent works have been published by the same company. Typographical mistakes and simple factual errors can be found throughout the book. A few examples include Helena, Arkansas being referred to as Helena, Arizona and photographs of steamboats being mislabeled on pages 34 and 36 (a side wheel steamboat is labeled as a stern wheel and vice versa). These types of mistakes are easily corrected if more careful editing is undertaken. Another issue involves citation of sources. As with all of Smith’s works, each endnote contains far too many sources cited, making the notes confusing. More frequent citations containing fewer sources per note would be more helpful. Although the book is replete with illustrations, more maps might prove useful for readers who may not be familiar with the region’s geography. Finally, though the book contains a tremendous amount of detail, it is short on analysis. There is no real conclusion; rather the story ends abruptly. Ideally, the Acknowledgements would receive a page unto itself, and the author would expand the well-written Introduction and add a Conclusion to complement it. 

Reviewed by Andrew Duppstadt, North Carolina State Historic Sites

Primary accounts of voyages or seagoing careers are indispensable resources for maritime historians and archaeologists, and so new publications of this type are always welcome. Hunting the Essex is a modest but worthy addition to the genre. The handy little duodecimo-sized volume, a product of Seaforth Publishing, presents the journal kept by Royal Navy Midshipman Allen Gardiner during the voyage of His Majesty’s frigate Phoebe to the Pacific Ocean in 1813-1814. Phoebe’s crushing defeat of the United States frigate Essex is one of the more famous naval encounters of the Anglo-American War of 1812, and inspired parts of the novel The Far Side of the World by the celebrated writer Patrick O’Brian.

Gardiner’s journal serves as a breezy counterpoint to United States Navy Captain David Porter’s well-known and somewhat controversial Journal of a Cruise, the two-volume narrative of Essex’s famous voyage published shortly after the War of 1812. In the latter work Porter exhaustively relates the details of his campaign against British whaling ships in the Pacific, provides insights into his strategic and tactical decisions, and accuses Phoebe’s captain of dishonorable conduct in battle. Gardiner’s journal, on the other hand, gives us the perspective of a nineteen-year-old junior lieutenant on a long voyage far from home. He had a keen eye for geography, foreign cultures, ancient ruins, and attractive ladies, and accordingly devotes considerable ink to his adventures on land. Life at sea and the cruise of Phoebe are part of the narrative, but a relatively small part, and his eyewitness description of the battle between Phoebe and Essex at Valparaiso, Chile is disappointingly brief. Despite its limitations Gardiner’s account has a refreshing candidness that captures the spirit of its youthful writer: Phoebe may be engaged in a dramatic hunt for a marauding frigate, but Gardiner seemingly finds it just as interesting to be dancing until the wee hours of the morning with the senoritas of Lima, Peru.

The original Gardiner journal was purchased, transcribed, and edited by Ohio State University Professor Emeritus John S. Reiske, who unfortunately died before its publication. The book’s introduction, by renowned naval historian Andrew Lambert of King’s College, London, provides readers with a useful historical context for Lieutenant Gardiner, the war, and the cruise of Phoebe. Lambert has strong opinions about the conflict, and clearly has scant patience for Captain Porter’s lamentations or American claims of victory in the War of 1812. Both the introduction and the journal narrative are thoroughly cited, and the book includes a map at the front and eight plates with contemporary portraits and prints.

Hunting the Essex is recommended for scholars and laymen with an interest in the War of 1812 in particular and early nineteenth-century naval history in general. 

Reviewed by Kevin J. Crisman, Texas A&M University

Between the conclusion of the Napoleonic Wars in Europe (1815) and the outbreak of the Civil War in the United States (1861), the political and economic sinews connecting the Old World with the New expanded to include ever increasing numbers of immigrants. One shipping firm in particular, located in the German harbor city of Bremen, regularized its routes to Charleston, South Carolina, with one of its captains, Heinrich Wieting, so heavily dominating the Bremen-Charleston route that he bears near total responsibility for populating Charleston with Germans. 

Captain Heinrich Wieting is the ostensible subject of Andrea Mehrländer’s beautiful two volume, lavishly illustrated, German language history. Her research is based on a sizeable collection of Wieting’s letters, which he posted on a regular basis to his bosses in his shipping firm. In Mehrländer’s very sympathetic treatment, Wieting emerges as a very capable captain, devoted family man and loving husband, not to mention amateur poet, who had the good fortune to live in a German port at a time of expanding opportunity, peace and German desire to emigrate. Heinrich Wieting and his transport of so many of his countrymen and women to Charleston is only the starting point for a much larger history, or series of histories in this wide-ranging work.

An American Studies professor, Mehrländer informs broadly on the maritime and sailors’ culture at the high point of the age of sail; steamships appear to the reader as they did to Wieting: an unavoidable future, looming on the horizon. Like Wieting himself, Mehrländer does not just bring her Germans across the Atlantic and deposit them on Charleston’s wharves, but brings the reader ashore as well for a first-hand look at antebellum Charleston. For this latter aspect the sketches, drawings and color reproductions of Charleston, as well as the sea craft of the age are of high value and interest.

While never offering analysis of her subjects, Mehrländer does inform on the activities of the sizeable German community in Charleston. Germans and their offspring brought by Captain Wieting occupied every economic niche in the city, from brewer and grocer to slave owner, and lived in all social strata, from slum up to the mayor’s office, with many fighting for the Confederacy. She situates her story in the broader historical context, and though Wieting was not a slaver and only a few of his Germans went on to own slaves, Mehrländer includes sections on slaves and slave life, as well as the effects of the Civil War on Wieting’s career and trans-Atlantic shipping more generally.

Visually the two volumes have much to offer. However the text will be an obstacle to anyone who cannot read German fluently. (An expensive English €150 translation is available from de Gruyter publishers) Having said that, Mehrländer’s work is an absolute treasure trove for the genealogist, as she reproduces Wieting’s crews’ names and duties, passengers’ names and points of origins and much more besides, for the nearly twenty years that he sailed back and forth between South Carolina and Bremen.

Reviewed by Chad Ross, East Carolina University

During the “long eighteenth-century,” the British Royal Navy played an integral role in shaping and supporting British life and culture. The relationship between the navy and nation and the roles each played in creating Britain’s overseas empire is the subject of the book of collected essays entitled Nelson, Navy & Nation: The Royal Navy & the British People 1688-1815. The book is the product of a group effort by the National Maritime Museum and naval history scholars to tie the British Navy into the larger history of eighteenth-century British culture.

The central idea that inspires each chapter is that the Royal Navy became inseparable from British national identity. As a nation surrounded by water, the British people relied on a strong navy to preserve their lives, security, and trade. Yet, the authors skillfully describe the many other ways for which the nation identified with and relied on their navy. Brian Lavery examines how the industrial complex surrounding shipbuilding benefitted both navy and nation. Elite shipwrights expertly constructed the Navy’s ships, while the people secured employment in times of war. Additionally, the completed ships acted as symbols of their nation’s power and prestige.

Margarette Lincoln demonstrates the central role the Navy and its preeminent officers played in British popular culture. While the press could ruin naval careers and public confidence with bad publicity, it was also the foremost outlet for expressions of commemoration. Letters, poems, and ballads as well as heroic tales of naval success united the British people through shared patriotism. Prints, paintings, and jewelry abounded to commemorate the actions of naval heroes, but none received as much recognition as Admiral Horatio Nelson.

By the late eighteenth century, a recruit’s gentlemanliness became more important than his nobility, or lack thereof, and officer recruits emerged from more diverse backgrounds. Admiral Horatio Nelson embodied this new gentlemanliness expected of a British naval officer. Both Andrew Lambert and Marianne Czisnik establish Nelson’s place in British maritime history and his virtual deification by the British people. His unmatched character, courage, humility, and instinctual intelligence gave the British people a savior of sorts that made them feel protected, secure, and proud. Nelson became a part of the British identity and represented the ideal naval officer that few men would ever match.

Nelson, Navy & Nation covers a variety of other related topics that paint the cultural and maritime history of Britain from 1688 to 1815. Each chapter is brief, and though the volume is not designed for in-depth research, its value lies in its accessibility to a general audience. Glossy, high-quality images of artifacts, paintings, and political cartoons enhance the volume’s worth by embellishing the historical accounts. Nelson, Navy & Nation is a perfect resource for those who attend the National Maritime Museum’s new long-term gallery, “Nelson, Navy, Nation,” and wish to expand their knowledge. Overall, it is an ideal starting point for anyone wishing to begin research on eighteenth-century British naval history from a cultural, rather than a military, perspective. 

Reviewed by Katie Riesenberg, University of West Florida

The aim of the first of the two volumes on the archaeology of the Dry Tortugas shipwreck is to present the results of the artifact analysis and to propose a tentative identification for the ship. This book also expresses Odyssey Marine Exploration’s commitment to sharing the results of their work with society. However, after twenty years since the conclusion of the excavation, only a collection of six preliminary reports was produced.

The Dry Tortugas shipwreck was partially excavated by Seahawk Deep Ocean Technology of Tampa between 1990 and 1991. This project was a commercial operation directed to identify valuable artifacts. The site is located at a depth of 450 meters off the Tortugas Islands in the Florida Keys. Due to its depth, it was excavated exclusively using a Remotely Operated Vehicle (ROV) which recorded the position of the artifacts before to be recovered. This shipwreck has been tentatively identified as the Portuguese-built and Spanish-operated 117-ton Buen Jesús y Nuestra Señora del Rosario, a small merchant ship of the ill-fated Tierra Firme fleet of 1622.

The analysis of the site and the artifact assemblage is presented in a descriptive manner accompanied by various small-scale artifact distribution plans. The chapters are illustrated with color photographs showing the excavation work and artifacts. Unfortunately, the location of the images rarely matches what is written in the text, and there are no archaeological illustrations. The authors provide nonessential data in an attempt to support their analysis, but this information is often irrelevant to the archaeological interpretation of the shipwreck. For example, the section on the chemical composition of ballast stone samples did not include any reference to their provenance. Additionally, personal comments are frequently used to validate ideas proposed in the text that cannot be verified in the bibliography, such as Lyon’s comment to justify the presence of silver coins minted in Mexico on board the Tierra Firme fleet ships. Contradictions in the analysis also exist between different chapters of the book, like the analysis of the same pig bones assemblage in chapters Three and Five. In an effort to compensate for the inconsistencies in the book, the authors refer to forthcoming publications, which would have strengthened the quality of the book had they been included. 

With respect to the proposed identification of the shipwreck, the historical and archaeological evidence is not conclusive apart from confirming the date of the shipwreck and its connection to the Tierra Firme fleet of 1622. The identification relies on the measurement of the ship’s keel whose accuracy is uncertain. An identification based on the dimensions of hull components would require a complete study of the hull timbers through an accurate hull plan to provide their exact dimensions. The absence of a homeward-bound manifest to be correlated with the artifact assemblage makes the historical interpretation of the shipwreck speculative. Although Kingsley suggests an interesting theory, it seems that further archaeological and archival research is needed to confirm the shipwreck identity.

Although Odyssey Marine Exploration has made an effort to prove that for-profit excavations can be conducted and published in a scientific archaeological manner, the outcome seems to prove otherwise. It has to be noted that this excavation was aimed to recover valuable artifacts; the hull remains were not systematically recorded and 8,400 artifacts from the original assemblage were sold so they cannot be reexamined. Contrary to what the authors believe, all these factors compromise the scientific value of their archaeological interpretations rather than aid them. 

Reviewed by Jose Luis Casaban

The Napoleonic War after 1805 has traditionally been described as a conflict between the Tiger and the Shark, or the Elephant and the Whale. James Davey, Research Curator at the National Maritime Museum and Visiting Lecturer at the University of Greenwich, contends that Britain’s naval and maritime prowess reshaped the outcome of the war after 1805. In fact, lessons learned after decades of naval operations—fighting battles, blockading enemy ports and vessels, and convoying supplies, men, and trade—across the globe permitted the British navy to accomplish their national strategic goals.

During the war against Napoleon, the Navy served as the most important arm of British strategy. Yet the Navy’s role during the conflict is far more complicated than most acknowledge. Davey describes how after Trafalgar, Napoleon waged economic war with his Berlin (1806) and Milan (1807) decrees, trying to cripple Britain financially. Britain responded with a series of Orders in Council in an attempt to control all trade to and from the continent. After 1805 the British scored no dramatic victories against French fleets but rather faced the mundane task of blockading Napoleon’s ports, which meant constantly keeping ships supplied on distant stations. The British Navy redeployed from the Bay of Biscay to Portugal and the Mediterranean in the South and to the Baltic Sea in the North, stretching supply lines and making it even more difficult for the fleet to fulfill its mission. Between 1808 and 1812 the British fleet in the Baltic Sea under the command of Sir Admiral James Saumarez protected trade, organized convoys, and offered European merchants under France’s orbit the chance to renew illicit trade and commerce, which undermined Napoleon’s economic decrees. The presence of the British fleet in the Baltic also blockaded the Russian fleet in port, depriving Napoleon access to the second largest fleet in Europe after Trafalgar, and drove Russia away from its French alliance. 

Perhaps Davey’s most important contribution reveals how sweeping British administrative reforms enacted between 1808 and 1812 created a highly effective logistical system, which permitted British ships to remain on the Baltic Station for as long as necessary. By highlighting the provisioning and constant transport of supplies to the Baltic Squadron, Davey offers the first systematic study of these areas and proves how the success of the Royal Navy depended on government and administration as much as on the fighting capabilities of ships and fleets.

Effective logistics and ample supplies win wars; the British supply system that developed by the early nineteenth century transformed naval operations, permitting the navy to pursue crucial objectives of national importance, protect essential exports and imports and attack the economies of the Napoleonic Empire, ultimately contributing to the defeat of France. This proves that naval history also encompasses administrative, economic, and political influences, and Davey makes that clear. Military and naval historians will find this book very useful. 

Reviewed by Gene Allen Smith, Texas Christian University

Much has been written about America’s entry into the Civil War, including the inept Buchannan administration that sought to ignore any hostilities until the Lincoln administration took over. When all attempts at reconciliation and appeasement failed, the separation was complete with the bombardment and capture of Fort Sumter in South Carolina by Confederate forces. However, there was one other major fortification that the Confederates needed but failed to capture: Fort Pickens that guarded Pensacola Bay. In this work, Driscoll explains how, in the months leading up to and throughout the war, the Federals were able to hang onto such a vital asset.

What makes this work so communicative is the focus on the importance of Pensacola Bay, and its naval and military infrastructure: the naval yard and the ring of forts built to protect Pensacola Bay from foreign intrusions. Driscoll successfully brings out the political and military machinations by both Federal and Confederate government officials and officers, both in their respective capitals and on scene at Pensacola. Pensacola Bay was vital to anybody who could possess it, especially in conjunction with the subsequent fortifications. While Confederate forces secured the naval yard and two of the three forts guarding Pensacola Bay, they failed to take Fort Pickens; a thorn in their side which would come to haunt them in the years to come.

In a prologue and through twelve subsequent chapters Driscoll effectively describes the slow roll out of secession and hostilities and how they led to a standoff in the only southern port that remained in Union hands throughout the entire war. Through the use of primary sources, such as personal letters, journals, communications between the local officers and officials in both the Federal and Confederate capitals, he is able to portray a period of time of confusion and missed opportunities as well as inept Federal administrations. Indeed, many of the tribulations that the officer who assumed command of Fort Pickens and those commanding the United States Navy ships on station suffered through were due to an ineffectual Buchanan administration and two conflicting federal departments: the Navy department and the Army department, which refused to work together. This focus by Driscoll is one of the strengths of his book as it presents a vision of how the war evolved, of which many people may not be aware.

The book is thoroughly researched and presents over seventy illustrations, including pictures and drawings of people, military camps and military installations, fortifications, and ships. As for any criticism of the work, one that quickly comes to mind is the lack of an overall site plan of Pensacola Bay and its features. An extended site plan would be extremely beneficial to readers as it would help develop a good mental picture as events occurred.

The work may not be meant for a general audience, I would, however, recommend it to a number of readers including those interested in understanding how the war unfolded overall, and especially along the Gulf Coast. In the end, it is evident that Driscoll put effort into research and writing, thus producing an informative product. The work covers a specific part of part of the Civil War that perhaps has not been covered to such a degree in any other work or study, and would be an appropriate addition to anybody’s library.

Reviewed Wayne Abrahamson, University of West Florida

The successful development of the marine chronometer in the mid-eighteenth century revolutionized navigation, since it allowed for simple computation of longitude through the comparison of the difference in time between one’s location and a fixed point. Whereas other methods required complex mathematical calculations using data from celestial observations, determining longitude needed only an accurate timepiece.

This, of course, was the rub, since clock errors would have potentially catastrophic consequences. The Antique Collectors’ Club new edition of Rupert Gould’s classic treatise on the topic presents an exhaustive analysis of the entire process of the development of marine chronometers from the earliest efforts in the first part of the sixteenth century to their final versions some 450 years later. The author lays out this story in clear language that thoroughly explains not only the technological developments in design and materials but also the processes for evaluation and adoptions.

This is not only reproduction of the original astonishingly comprehensive study but also includes a new brief introduction that extends its scope beyond Gould’s death, and adds a very informative picture gallery that surveys the chronometer’s development. As one might expect from the publisher, this is a truly handsome presentation. Practically every page contains images—drawings, diagrams, period illustrations, and photographs of extant examples—all crisply reproduced on high-quality paper. Even the endpapers are works of art! Collectors and researchers will find this a treasure trove of information. 

Zeit auf See is geared to a very different audience, since it was issued originally in conjunction with an exhibit at the Deutsches Schiffahrtsmuseum in Bremerhaven. Nevertheless, it does an excellent job in presenting a concise history of the development of the marine chronometer through a series of twenty-four very short chapters. The text is fully bilingual (German and English) and is integrated with superb full-color photographs of examples from the museum’s collection. Although its brevity necessarily means that many topics receive only limited attention, it brings the story right up to date, with sections covering modern testing methods, radio location finding, and global positioning satellite systems.

Whereas Gould’s monumental work is very markedly Anglocentric, Zeit auf See is more inclusive and presents a fair selection of timepieces from Continental Europe as well. Its physical appearance belies its paperback status and low cost; the color reproduction is excellent and the paper if high quality.

These two books take very different approaches to their subject but both succeed admirably in their goals. The specialist inevitably will choose Gould but those with less interest in details will find Zeit auf See very satisfying indeed. 

Reviewed by Christopher Voss, San Francisco, California