History

The subject of my history dissertation is British newspaper coverage of the US war of independence. My primary reference will be The American revolution and the British press 1775-1783 by Solomon Lutnick.

If anyone has any other sources please do point me in the right direction.

I am reading Rubicon by Tom Holland to prepare for an essay question for Roman History.

He gives a quote that I put in the blog last year from Caesar’s account of his campaigns in Gaul.

Human nature is universally imbued with a desire for liberty, and a hatred for servitude.

Of course the Gallic Wars was also a work of propaganda. Whether humans innately desire liberty is an interesting question in light of the time Caesar lived in. It is also a very relevant quote these days.

Joel Rayburn, a Major in the U.S. Army and from 2002 to 2005 taught history at the U.S. Military Academy, has an essay in the latest issue of Foreign Affairs. In it, he draws historical comparisons between the British involvement in Iraq and the current American intervention.

In light of the recent Sunni-Shiite tensions in Samara, the historical context is quite interesting.

He starts with:

A number of pundits have recently noted the parallels between the United Kingdom’s experience eight decades ago and the United States’ today. The comparisons, however, have generally centered on the early and middle phases of both occupations. Too few have focused on the ignominious end of the United Kingdom’s reign in Mesopotamia and the lessons those events hold for the United States today. In fact, Washington’s current position bears a strong resemblance to London’s in the late 1920s, when the British were responsible for the tutelage of a fledgling Iraqi state suffering from immature institutions, active insurgencies, and the interference of hostile neighbors. Eventually, this tutelage was undermined by pressure from the British Parliament and the press to withdraw — forces quite similar to those in the United States now calling for a withdrawal from Iraq. Building a better understanding of the United Kingdom’s mistakes — and of the consequences of that country’s ultimate withdrawal from Iraq — could thus help illuminate the present occupation and provide answers to when and how to end it. If the British record teaches anything, it is this: costly and frustrating as the fostering of Iraqi democracy may be, the costs of leaving the job undone would likely be far higher, for both the occupiers and the Iraqis.

And of the British context:

In 1920, a large-scale Shiite insurgency cost the British more than 2,000 casualties, and domestic pressure to withdraw from Iraq began to build. In the revolt’s aftermath, the war hero T. E. Lawrence led a chorus of critics in the press and Parliament denouncing London’s decision to continue the costly occupation. “The people of England,” Lawrence wrote, have been led in Mesopotamia into a trap from which it will be hard to escape with dignity and honour. They have been tricked into it by a steady withholding of information. … Things have been far worse than we have been told, our administration more bloody and inefficient than the public knows. It is a disgrace to our imperial record, and may soon be too inflamed for any ordinary cure. We are to-day not far from a disaster….

“We say we are in Mesopotamia to develop it for the benefit of the world. … How long will we permit millions of pounds, thousands of Imperial troops, and tens of thousands of Arabs to be sacrificed on behalf of colonial administration which can benefit nobody but its administrators?” Although the London Times remained mainly supportive of the government’s policy in Iraq, other leading British papers, most notably the Manchester Guardian, echoed Lawrence’s call to end the occupation.

The result was what historians have called the “Quit Mesopotamia” campaign, which remained an issue in British politics until the end of the British mandate in Iraq in 1932. For more than a decade, a diverse collection of anti-imperialists, pacifists, Labourites, and Lawrence loyalists kept up a steady stream of criticism in the United Kingdom’s opposition press. The Quit Mesopotamia critics effectively tapped into the British sentiment against imperialism, which had become widespread after the end of World War I. The British public’s interest in maintaining a worldwide empire had waned; the working classes, which had sacrificed so much for the war, wanted their government to invest in the stagnant domestic economy, not in costly imperial adventures. Unlike their ally the United States, the United Kingdom experienced no economic boom in the Roaring Twenties, and unemployment steadily rose throughout the decade. British voters registered their disapproval of the Conservatives’ imperialist tendencies by voting the Labour Party of Ramsay MacDonald into power in 1923. Although that Labour government was short-lived (thanks to a scandal), the Conservatives got the message and in 1925 initiated a series of increasingly desperate measures to sell their Iraq policy to the public.

Colonial Secretary Leopold Amery led the rhetorical charge. In speeches in Parliament and before audiences throughout England, Amery blasted critics for their “reckless disregard … of the honour of their country.” Calls by British newspapers to pull out of Iraq only emboldened the country’s enemies, Amery said, and a “policy of scuttle” would expose the British to far greater dangers than those they would encounter while “fulfilling [their] obligations” to the Iraqi people. The London Times weighed in on Amery’s behalf on September 25, 1925, observing that the “cost of premature withdrawal” would probably be a Turkish invasion of Mosul.

Amery claimed that the situation in Iraq was significantly better than his critics realized. Returning from a fact-finding tour of the mandate in 1925, he said that Iraq’s development was proceeding well enough to promise the British a “substantial return” on their investment in that country. The whole Middle East was undergoing fundamental changes, he declared, and Iraq would soon be a model of development and democracy for the entire region. Besides, he said, Iraq was serving as “a splendid training ground” for the Royal Air Force (RAF), which since 1922 had been charged with defending Iraq and maintaining order there.

These arguments made little impression on the opponents of the occupation. The Labour Party accused the Conservatives of wanting to remain in Iraq for the sake of oil stockholders. “We should never get out of [Iraq] without wrenching something, such as the national honour or the interests of bondholders,” declared the senior Labour Party MP and future prime minister Clement Attlee in Parliament in 1926. “Therefore,” he said, “we had better wrench free at once.”

Nonetheless, Amery’s public defense of the occupation helped the policy withstand parliamentary challenges in 1925 and 1926, and the United Kingdom’s occupation looked set to continue indefinitely. In accepting the League of Nations mandate in 1920, the British government had committed itself to at least 20 years of guardianship of Iraq’s state and society, and when it signed the Anglo-Iraqi Treaty of 1926, London promised to stick around until 1951 (or until an independent Iraq joined the league). Yet starting in 1925, the Conservatives began secretly looking for a way out. In 1927 — just one year after pledging to stay in Iraq for a quarter century — key ministers in Stanley Baldwin’s government proposed a pullout. According to Robert Cecil, a trusted Baldwin adviser, withdrawal from Iraq would be “a complete answer to those of our critics who allege that we are anxious to have a militarist or adventurous foreign policy. That charge has done us a great deal of harm already and may easily be fatal to our existence at the next election.”

Publicly, the Conservatives began to speak about the need to “reduce expenditure” in Iraq. In 1925, Sir Samuel Hoare, head of the Air Ministry and another close Baldwin adviser, acknowledged that “since the war we [have] spent a great deal in the Middle East, and the British taxpayer [has] asked whether the expenditure was worthwhile, and whether it could be reduced.” Returning from a trip to Iraq that year, Hoare announced that once the contested frontier near Mosul was settled with Turkey, the British could reduce their role in Iraq. As a government minister, Hoare could not have made this declaration without Baldwin’s approval; his statement therefore had the effect of an official promise to bring home some British troops. And indeed, the Conservatives soon made the promise a reality: by early 1927, the Baldwin government had pulled most British soldiers out of Iraq, leaving a few RAF squadrons and a battalion of Indian infantry to defend the country alongside a fledgling Iraqi army of only 9,000 men.

He continues:

…in March 1927, the Baldwin government proclaimed the Iraqi army capable of defending the country itself and withdrew the last battalion of British ground troops. Mere months later, southern Iraq came under attack by thousands of Wahhabi Ikhwan (”brothers”). The Ikhwan were a puritanical sect that had brutally conquered the holy cities of Mecca and Medina in 1924. Like today’s insurgents under Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the Ikhwan were Salafi fighters who invaded Iraq from the desert to terrorize its Shiites (whom the Salafi consider apostates). For the better part of two years, starting in 1927, all that stood between the Ikhwan and the lightly armed Iraqi tribes was a small desert detachment of British-trained Iraqi troops under the leadership of Captain John Glubb, who would later head the Arab Legion in Transjordan. Only with great difficulty did Glubb obtain occasional air support from the overstretched RAF squadrons stationed near Basra and Baghdad.

British officials were slow to grasp the extent of the Ikhwan threat. The British high commissioner in Iraq at the time, Sir Henry Dobbs, declared the Ikhwan defeated in 1928. Acknowledging that the Wahhabi invaders had hurt Iraq’s economy by discouraging foreign investment, he informed the press that “the only grave injury done to Iraq … [has] been inflicted by wild reports manufacturing scare after scare.” In fact, although no official report was ever conducted, it is probable that the Ikhwan managed to kill hundreds of Iraqis. Dobbs’ assessment of the Ikhwan’s strength, meanwhile, was also wrong: the next year, they invaded again, in large numbers. Indeed, the Ikhwan continued to threaten Iraq until they were routed by the army of Ibn Saud in mid-1929.

During this same period, the resurgent Turkey of Mustafa Kemal (better known as Atatürk) threatened Iraq from the north. Kemalist Turkey mounted an unsuccessful invasion of Mosul in 1922 and thereafter continually intrigued against Iraqi rule among the Kurdish tribes in the region. Like Iraq’s Sunni Arabs today, the Kurds of the mandate period represented a communal threat that consumed the attention and resources of the Iraqi state. With Turkish support, the Pesh Merga of the Barzani tribe and its allies were able to sustain an insurgency against the Iraqi government for almost four years. At one point, the Iraqi army was forced to deploy three-quarters of its strength in the Kurdish Sulaimaniya region in an attempt to put down the insurgents. In the spring of 1931, as the formal handover of sovereignty to the Iraqis approached, the British roused themselves to pacify the Kurds for good. For over a month, the RAF bombed Kurdish villages, finally forcing the rebels to capitulate.

The context helps us give an idea why Sunni Muslims are so dominant in present-day Iraq:

When the mandate actually ended in 1932, Iraq’s British-built institutions began, one by one, to collapse. With the occupiers gone, Iraq’s Sunni Arab elite used the army not to defend the state against foreign invaders, but to suppress Iraq’s Assyrians, Kurds, and Shiites. The Iraqi army of the 1930s was the most dangerous kind: it was easily the most powerful institution in the country, too strong to be checked by other groups and free from any real constitutional constraints, but it was also too weak to actually defend Iraq from outsiders. As the British-installed King Faisal lay dying in Switzerland in 1933, Iraqi troops massacred Assyrians in northern Iraq and returned to Baghdad as heroes. Army leaders then used their newfound prestige to meddle in the country’s politics, backing certain factions in parliament in return for the passage of conscription laws that bolstered the army’s strength but turned young Shiite men into a military underclass. By 1936, Iraq’s generals had gathered enough power to carry out a military coup, ending constitutional government and setting a precedent that would recur again and again.

At the same time, Iraqi society, the most ethnically diverse in the Arab world, came fully under the sway of Sunni Arab chauvinists. Typical of this development was the fate of Iraq’s educational system, which fell under the control of Sati al-Husri, a Syrian pan-Arabist who taught that Shiite Islam was heretical. Under his influence, the Iraqi government began to suppress Shiite religious holidays and practices — a policy that sparked large-scale Shiite uprisings in the mid-1930s. By the 1940s, Iraq, one of the least Sunni of all Arab states, had become a bulwark of what historian Elie Kedourie called “the Sunni spirit of domination.”

The coups following 1936 mostly involved the Sunni Arab officer corps. By 1939, Iraq’s military rulers had become openly hostile to the United Kingdom. When war broke out in Europe, Baghdad opened back channels to the Axis powers, and it finally offered up the country to Hitler in 1941. Faced with the prospect of an Axis stronghold on their line of communication to India, the British were forced to invade Iraq once again. As British troops approached Baghdad, Iraqi soldiers and police carried out a final act of official butchery, slaughtering hundreds of Iraqi Jews. There followed a second British occupation of the country that lasted until 1948.

Had the United Kingdom stayed longer the first time around, much of this mayhem could have been avoided. Continued British oversight would have prevented the Iraqi government from falling into the hands of military dictators, and the presence of a British force in the country would likely have restrained the Iraqi army from preying on Iraq’s minority communities. Since the British had opposed Iraqi conscription throughout the 1920s, it is safe to assume they would have continued to do so if the mandate had been extended, thereby removing a significant irritant from the relationships among Iraq’s ethnic and sectarian communities. The typically pragmatic British political advisers would also have been unlikely to allow Sunni Arab supremacists to pervert Iraq’s public educational system.

These restraints could have helped Iraq develop into a more stable society, in which Sunnis, Shiites, Kurds, and other minorities would have somehow found a way to live together peacefully. Instead, these groups spent the next 70 years of Iraq’s independence with daggers drawn, each decade pocked by civil war.

Rayburn concludes by arguing that the US cannot afford to make the same mistakes as appear to have happened in the past -

Washington thus now finds itself facing roughly the same question that London faced between 1925 and 1927: Should it leave Iraq, or continue until its project there has truly fulfilled its aims? In the British case, both sides of the debate — the Quit Mesopotamia critics and the Conservative officials who minimized Iraq’s problems — apparently believed that the United Kingdom could leave Iraq without repercussions, regardless of whether the mandate had actually served its purpose. They came to assume that an independent Iraq would somehow muddle along — and that if it did not, the consequences would not affect the British.

Accordingly, the Conservative government succumbed to the political and media pressure to pull out. After 1925, as British officials continued to pay lip service to the original goals of the mandate, they privately began looking for ways to withdraw early, even though many of them recognized that chaos would ensue. To avoid a similar result today, the U.S. government and its allies must confront what the United Kingdom’s premature withdrawal achieved: namely, disaster both for Iraq and for its occupier. Having left the work of the mandate undone, the British were forced to return and attempt to finish the job nine misery-filled years later. The United States can ill afford to do the same.

I meant to blog this last week, so I am just sticking it in the archives.

Up to three million men around the world could be descended from a prolific medieval Irish king, according to a new genetic study.

It suggests that the 5th-century warlord known as “Niall of the Nine Hostages” may be the ancestor of about one in 12 Irishmen, say researchers at Trinity College Dublin, Ireland. Niall established a dynasty of powerful chieftains that dominated the island for six centuries.

In a study of the Y chromosome - which is only passed down through the male line - scientists found a hotspot in northwest Ireland where 21.5% carry Niall’s genetic fingerprint, says Brian McEvoy, one of the team at Trinity. This was the main powerbase of the Ui Neills, which literally translated means “descendants of Niall”.

McEvoy says the Y chromosome appeared to trace back to one person.

“There are certain surnames that seem to have come from Ui Neill. We studied if there was any association between those surnames and the genetic profile. It is his (Niall’s) family.”

1. Discuss the concept of “contemporary history” proposed by Geoffrey Barraclough’s An Introduction to Contemporary History.

2. Discuss Mark Mazower’s analysis of the challenge to democracy in the 20th century in his Dark Continent.

3. Discuss the impact of Eric Hobsbawm’s marxist views in his history of the 20th century, Age of Extremes.

4. Discuss the role of “conterfactual history” in Joe Lee’s The Shifting Balance of Power.

Things have been quiet on here of late, thanks to essay deadlines. I hope readers aren’t put off. I have uploaded my latest essay on Islam here, if you feel like having a read.

It’s not great, but let me know what you think.

Account for the success of the seventh-century and early eighth-century Arab conquests in former territories of the Roman Empire; how did Westerners view Islam and the Arabs?

Any recommended websites/books?

Timewatch looks good tonight, BBC2, 9pm.

We follow in the footsteps of Julius Caesar’s bloody eight-year campaign that saw a million die, a million held hostage and 800 cities destroyed.

There will also be a preview of ‘Rome’ just after, the highly successful series that has been shown on HBO in the US. I think it starts on BBC on November 1st. I caught a glimpse of the series when I was in New York, with HBO On Demand - and it looked really good.

This one via Powerline.

Bulgarian archaeologists have unearthed about 15,000 tiny golden pieces that date back to the end of the third millennium B.C. - a find they said Wednesday matches the famous treasure of Troy.

What a find that would be…

Very interesting archaeology:

An Israeli archaeologist says she has uncovered in East Jerusalem what she believes may be the fabled palace of the biblical King David. Her work has been sponsored by the Shalem Center, a neoconservative think tank in Jerusalem, and funded by an American Jewish investment banker who would like to help provide scientific support for the Bible as a reflection of Jewish history.

I meant to post about this last week, but it’s been a busy one. It always fascinates me how so much of what we learn in school about the Second World War is entirely devoted to how the US and Britain fought it. The battle of Stalingrad was an afterthought in the syllabus I was taught in school. Maybe its partly Hollywood’s fault, what ratio of war films portray the Western battles versus the Eastern ones? What films show the sheer loss to the Soviet Union?

The graph from the Economist this week clearly says it - the sacrifice of the Soviet Union was enormous. Many say that the Soviets were crap soldiers, and their generals were worse, not having issue with cannon fodder - or losing thousands of soldiers in major battles. But surely this is just the Western propaganda I was brought up with, always believeng the Soviets to be inferior - while in fact they are alot better than the West at alot of things. The figures are stark:

…fighting in the east accounted for over three-quarters of all German military casualties

Whenever I discuss this subject with people from former Soviet countries, they always say the same thing. If it was not for Russia we would all be speaking German now. And they go further, like him or loathe him, they believe were it not for the Iron man Stalin himself, I would be in the Hitler Youth now, eating a bratwurst.

I see Matthew Yglesias has taken to reading Irish history.

I’d been envisioning a pretty two-sided British/Protestant versus Irish/Catholic kind of history. But no! You’ve got your Anglo-Irish, your Old English, your Dissenters, etc., etc., etc. Quite the mess. Lee is perhaps the funniest historical writer I’ve encountered in a good long time (perhaps ever). Can’t quite decide if Foster’s footnote capsule biographies of notable figures are charming or annoying.

Feckin’ sure its complicated Matthew. In fact I think if anyone can study and remember Irish history it pretty much prepares them for just about any subject in any field whatsoever.

A couple of hours out to sea from Tel Aviv, on a hot Mediterranean night in the 1980’s, I carefully picked my way towards the armoured personnel carrier secured on the afterdeck. My job was to remove a HiFi and a 12-bottle box of spirits hidden beneath the troop seating section of the vehicle

The items had been placed there by a friend serving with the United Nations in the Lebanon (UNIFIL). It was my task to take them to my cabin and deliver them to certain persons on my return to Ireland. On gaining access to the vehicle, which was being returned to Ireland for repair, I was dismayed to find that someone had the bright idea of storing a large number of engine parts, also for repair, around the seating area. After a number of sweaty hours I finally managed to extract the HiFi and by literally tearing the cardboard box to pieces, the 12 bottles of spirits.

This kind of petty smuggling was common on the regular trips that the Irish navy made to Israel to re-supply the troops in Lebanon during the 80’s and 90’s. Customs always met the ship on return to the naval base at Haulbowline, made a cursory check of selected areas much as they do at civilian ports and airports and that was that. This time, however, it was different.

Waiting on the quay wall to meet us was a large team of very determined looking customs officers with full equipment, including cutting gear. To my astonishment, they discovered and removed crate after crate of spirits from every nook and cranny of the armoured car and was even more astonished when they cut open the fuel tank and it too was full to the ‘gills’ with spirits. Obviously, and without the knowledge of the crew, someone in the Lebanon had gone to a great deal of trouble to organise this smuggling operation.

The naval authorities were, as you can imagine, not too happy with this huge embarrassment to the good name of the Navy. It ‘became known’ that I had taken some items from the vehicle and I was brought before the Captain. There wasn’t much he could do really as everybody had a few bottles secreted away in their cabins, including officers. So, I was told to either slip the bottles over the side or drink them on board, but under no circumstances were they to be brought ashore.

I donated some of them to the NCOs mess and gave away the rest. A week later I got a phone call from the person who ‘owned’ the haul, but to this day he doesn’t believe that I didn’t keep the drink for myself.

The big question was – who squealed to customs? The general consensus was that somebody, angered by being excluded, made a quick phone call. There was little sympathy for those who lost out as it was believed officers, who had become too greedy, were the organisers of the operation.

Anthony Sheridan

Viriathus is a name I had not come across before, but reading about him in The Enemies of Rome by Philip Matyzsak, he is certainly someone I won’t forget.

Viriathus was perhaps one of Iberia’a greatest military leaders. He succeeded in defeating the Roman army on several occassions, until he was eventually betrayed. The story of how he came to hate the Romans is an interesting one.

The time is circa 151 BC. The Romans have successfully occupied much of present-day Spain. To the west is a region called Lusitania, between the Guadiana and Douro rivers, taking in much of present day Portugal. The Romans had never succeeded in occupying Lusitania, but the Lusitanians, due in part to lack of good arable land, constantly preyed on neighbouring tribes for food and materials. Rome did manage to take control of these neighbouring tribes, the Vettones and Celtici, but the Lusitanians continued the raids regardless.

Matyzsak:

After a period of frequent clashes when the Lusitanians repeatedly agreed to and then violated peace accords, Rome lost patience in 151 BC and launched a full-scale attack under Servius Sulpicius Galba.

Again the Lusitanians sued for peace. Galba replied that the poverty of the Lusitanians’ native soil made it impossible for them to desist from raiding for long, so he proposed a whole-scale resettlement on three fertile plains. On an agreed date in 150 BC the Lusitanians gathered in three seperate groups to await resettlement. Galba insisited on disarming them, weapons being superfluous for an agrarian way of life. Then, with the nation in three seperate, unarmed groups, Galba ordered the Roman army to surround each group in turn and massacre everyone there - men, women and children. It was an atrocity that sickened even the brutal Romans. ‘He avenged treachery with treachery - an unworthy Roman imitating barbarians.’ (Appian, Hispania10 [60].)

One of those to escape was a shepherd by the name of Viriathus, and he had something of a grudge againt Rome.

4 years later and Lusitanian guerilla raids on Roman forces were growing more frequent. Eventually in 147 BC they invaded Turdetania, run by the Roman propraertor Vettius. The Lusitanians were no match for the Roman legions and were pushed back to a fortified town where they were besieged. It was here they were given terms for surrender, with terms that looked alot like Galba’s terms 3 years previous. Viriathus suggested a plan for escape, and was duly elected leader. The plan was basic enough, bring out everyone, line up for battle, let the Romans line up for battle, and then run like hell. It worked, the Romans were unable to catch them. His army met at a rendezvous point in Tribola, and the Romans followed. Viriathus set up an ambush and it worked - the Romans got caught between a cliff edge and the Lusitanians. 4,000 of Vettius’ army of 10,000 were killed, including Vettius.

The new Roman commander then bribed the neighbouring Celtibrerians to fight the Lusitanians. But short work was made of the Celti, they were all slaughtered. Viriathus then went on to plunder modern-day Toledo. As you can imagine, all this seriously pissed off the Romans.

There then followed a series of defeats for the Romans.

In 146 BC the Romans sent another army, commanded by C. Plautius. Viriathus ambushed and destroyed this army while they setup camp. He then went on to pillage and then destroy large parts of Segobriga.

In 145 BC the Romans sent another army, 15,000 foot soldiers and 2,000 cavalry, commanded by Quintus Fabius Aemilianus. They also sent an army commanded by Claudius Unimanus, which Viriathus duly slaughtered. On hearing of that army being destroyed, Fabius decided on a different tactic. The Romans refused to face the Lusitanians in open battle. By 144 BC Fabius decided to do battle, and drove the Lusitanians back, but the damage to Roman prestige for not doing battle earlier was done. The Celtibrerians rose against Rome, and thus began the long and bitter Numantine War.

Q. Pompeius was the next general to try againt Viriathus, he failed miserably, returning to camp after losing 1,000 men.

By 142 BC another Roman army had arrived, commanded by Fabius Servilianus. Rome was getting really pissed off, so this time they sent two full legions, 16,000 men, 1,600 cavalry and elephants.

Servilianus was successful, he besieged Viriathus in Erisone and retook several cities that had been under Lusitanian control. But Viriathus managed to smuggle himself and a large number of forces into the city. The following morning they attacked the Romans, and drove them towards a valley that Viriathus had earlier fortified. Servilianus was thus surrounded, and faced annihilation. He duly surrendered unconditionally, but Viriathus accepted, and demanded Roman forces withdraw from Lusitania, and recognise their independence, Viriathus was to be considered a friend and ally of the Roman people. No one knows why Viriathus let them off so lightly, but it is thought that if he had killed the whole army, Rome would never forget, and would keep sending armies until he was destroyed. So the Roman senate ratified the settlement.

The Romans did send a new governer to the region, Servilius Caepio, brother of the defeated general. Caepio was astute, but hated by the men who served under him. He tried to provoke Viriathus into war, but Viriathus resisted. Instead, some hot-headed tribesmen did get provoked, and in 140 BC the war resumed. Viriathus was reluctant to resume war, so he sent 3 trusted advisors to Caepio, Caepio lavished the 3 advisors with luxuries, and told them if they killed Viriathus they would obtain a huge reward. They went back to camp and stabbed Viriathus in the throat, fleeing to Caepio. Caepio then betrayed the deal, saying he had not meant for them to kill their leader. They were escorted from the city without a penny, though some other students of this era say that the three were killed by Caepio.

To end the hostilities, Caepio did as Galba has promised in the beginning, he resettled the Lusitanians to fertile lands. It worked and peace reigned.

I am really enjoying reading about the various exploits of those who dared to stand against the Roman Empire. Hannibal is a name known to many, and famous for his taking elephants through the Alps. Perhaps the most interesting battle I have come across is the Battle of Cannae.

The scene is Italy, 216 BC. Hannibal has already been victorious against the Romans in Trebia and at Lake Trasimene. The Romans decided to change tack, first trying to trap Hannibal. Matyszak notes:

As Hannibal pillaged Campania, he allowed [the Roman General] Fabius to slip a garrison into Casilinum, near Capua. From here, the river Volturnus blocked Hannibal’s retreat while Fabius waited in the mountains between Casilinum and the colony of Cales. This put Hannibal in a trap. He could not remain in a plain which he had stripped of supplies, nor could he launch his army in a suicidal assault against a Roman army entrenched in a superior position. Yet these appeared to be his choices.

Eventually, it seemed that Hannibal chose to try a night break-out. The Romans saw the torches of the army streaming towards a well-guarded pass. Confident that the garrison there could intercept the attempted break-out, Fabius refused to move from his camp, despite the pleas and imprecations of his subordinates, who saw a chance of breaking the Carthaginians once and for all.

But when Fabius’ garrison carried out their interception, they found thousands of cattle with torches tied to their horns, but no Carthaginian soldiers. Hannibal’s army was streaming through the position which they had abandoned, taking their booty and heading for winter quarters in Apulia.

Following this embarrasing episode the Romans decided to revert to the warfare they knew best - engage and crush the enemy in open battle. Accordingly they gathered together no fewer than eight legions, each of about 5,000 men. Together with their alies and cavalry, they had at least 85,000 men to Hannibal’s 50,000.

Later that Summer, Hannibal took Cannae and seized the corn supplies designated to feed Rome’s massive army. Hannibal was eager for battle with the Romans, as were the two Roman consuls, Terentius Varro and Aemilius Paullus. So on the morning of August 2, 216 BC the two armies faced each other.

What ensued was a classic flanking movement by Hannibal, using Numidian, Spanish and Gallic cavalry to encircle the massive Roman legion formation. The battle resulted in the death of as many as 45,000 Romans on a single day, a figure of deaths on a single day unrivalled until the first day of the Somme offensive in 1916.

Young Irelander wonders if there is any form of website that promotes the issue of Irish participation in the two world wars.

This is a serious subject, and one I have personal experience of. My great grand uncle, Owen Clerkin, was killed near the Somme valley on the 15th of September 1916. This was towards the end of the Somme campaign. He was a private in the Irish Guards and died at the age of 26. He is buried at Delville Wood Cemetery, Longueval, France. In 2000 I visited his grave, and was on of his first relatives to go there. It was an emotional experience, as are all of the Great War memorials in Belgium and France, many of which I have visited. There is something about the Great War that is different, something about the sheer waste that makes my perception of it different to other wars.

And all credit to the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, they are a great source of information. Details of my relative are here.

Details of the area he saw battle in are here. There is also a photo of the cemetery he is buried in, it is an incredibly well maintained place, as are all CWGC graves. My relative was one of the lucky ones, his body was actually identified and he has his own grave, unlike hundreds of thousands whose names appear on memorials like the Menin Gate in Ypres.

The Guardian has a good article on the impending excavation of the wreck of the Sussex, a British warship that sank in 1694 while on a secret diplomatic mission for King William III.

The estimated value of the contents of the vessel is £2.4bn. A company called Odyssey will be very rich if it finds what its looking for. The British government will also get its share:

The deal struck between the US firm and the MoD sees Britain get a share of the spoils on a sliding scale, which initially favours the Americans, who would get 80% of the first £28m. Anything more than this would be shared equally, up to £319m after which the Treasury share rises to 60%.

The UK has most of the rights to any artefacts, such as canon, anchors etc. Odyssey’s bargaining position was that it found the wreck, and has borne all the costs - more than £2m so far - and the financial risks, should the project not come off.