I was going through old floppy disks recently, looking at things I wrote a long time ago. One of the files, from 2003, has been very much on my mind the last few days, for reasons that will become obvious.
I might have originally posted it here, but extensive searching has not found it here or anywhere Google now reaches, so hopefully it’s not a repost of something too familiar.
I believe it was a response to the “Freedom Fries” meme. Were I to write it today, I would probably do some things a little differently, but what the hell: here it is as originally conceived twelve years ago.
A love letter to France
I have seen a number of jokes about French military prowess lately, and a few rants about how France’s current government has opposed the policies of America’s current government.
I want to talk about another time. A time long ago, when America was only a dream…and a dream very close to extinction.
Historian Barbara Tuchman paints this picture in her book The First Salute. By 1781, the American Revolution was not going well. General Washington still had faith, but little else. Only personal loans and gifts from a few persons (I believe businessman Robert Morris was the most important, iirc) had enabled him to sustain an army this long, and that money was now spent. The Continental Army had been fighting for years with little success (the victory at Saratoga was four years in the past at that point).
Washington appealed to France for help. He had the stalwart Rochambeau with some troops, and as always, Lafayette, but he needed seapower. The French were notoriously reluctant to do battle with Britain’s Royal Navy, and to do so in a losing cause would be nearly folly…but somehow American diplomats prevailed.
Admiral DeGrasse was sent to Washington’s aid. This represented an enormous cost to France – the debt would figure in the coming French Revolution. In those days, control over military forces was much more haphazard, and DeGrasse was sent with vague instructions, the primary emphasis of which were to protect French islands in the Caribbean before helping Washington.
General Washington knew what the dispatch of DeGrasse’s fleet meant. France would spend no more money on America, and DeGrasse could not remain past the next hurricane season. If the faltering American cause was to get any use out of this fleet, Washington would have to act decisively.
Washington tried to persuade the French to attack British-held New York. The loss of New York had been Washington’s bitterest defeat, and he longed to win it back. But the French ultimately decided against it, and DeGrasse sent word he was headed for the Chesapeake Bay.
A lesser commander would have remained fixated on New York. Washington knew his only real chance to win was to strike now, in coordination with France, and he instantly changed his mind. Lord Cornwallis had moved his sizable army into Yorktown, making a possible target.
To get Cornwallis, the allies would have to embark on one of the riskiest longshots in warfare. Not only would three different forces (Lafayette’s troops, Washington’s column, and DeGrasse’s fleet) have to converge without the ability to stay in contact with each other, but they’d have to do it almost simultaneously, or Cornwallis would see what was up and escape.
This kind of plan goes wrong all the time in military history, and Washington knew it. He dreaded the possible consequences, but he had made up his mind and moved his men swiftly.
DeGrasse learned in the Caribbean that the Americans desperately needed money and gunpowder. He could not persuade his government to risk more cash, so he used his own personal possessions to secure a large loan for the Americans. Then, risking France’s valuable possessions in the Caribbean, he left an active British fleet behind and set sail for America. It was almost insubordination.
Barbara Tuchman wondered why an aristocrat would defy his government and plunge himself into debt to assist the anti-aristocratic American cause. The career of DeGrasse supplies no answer. Except for this act, he was wholly typical of his class and time, and left no writings behind. Her ultimate analysis was that sometimes, a few rare people simply rise to the historical occasion and do necessary – even great – things.
DeGrasse’s gold paid Washington’s troops for the first time in a long time. With renewed spirit, the column marched overland from New York to Yorktown.
We all know that the miracle occurred. Somehow the columns and fleet converged. There’s a story of the stately and dignified Washington on a dock, seeing the French sail with his own eyes at last, after months of unendurable tension, and jumping up and down like a schoolboy waving his arms and shouting.
A British fleet sent to Cornwallis’ relief fought DeGrasse’s ships in the Chesapeake, and DeGrasse managed to hold the British off, despite the fearsome reputation of the Royal Navy. In fact, DeGrasse would lose his next battle to the Royal Navy in a few short years. But he tied this one, and Cornwallis was not rescued from the sea.
Americans take victory for granted now, but military experts know what a daring gamble Washington’s last campaign was. Failure was substantially more likely than success. Although Washington showed flexibility in giving up his pet project, and greatness in his commitment to the gamble once he started, his willingness to risk everything showed that he was desperate.
The fighting spirit of a few French generals, the unexplained generosity and risk-taking of Comte DeGrasse, and the resolution of around 5500 ordinary French soldiers rescued America at her lowest point.
The effort and expense contributed to the fall of the French government in a few years, but the French people held no grudge. They modeled their new constitution partly on ours, and later sent us the Statue of Liberty.
Vive la France!