"The three greatest fools of history have been Jesus Christ, Don Quixote — and I!"
-Simon Bolivar
Excerpt from: The Foolish Fatherlands, by Óscar Amalfitano, 1985
[...] the collapse of Spanish authority let loose the seething, bubbling undercurrent of popular discontent which had gripped Spanish America since the conclusion of Túpac Amaru II’s revolt. That revolt, which had seen the successful capture of Lima by rebel forces and forced a general settlement between the rebels and the Viceroyalty, had fostered a highly autonomous neo-Incan elite led by Amaru II himself, his royal lineage recognized and much imperial land title restored.
That title had passed to Andrés Túpac Amaru, the II’s nephew, lately Amaru III. Amaru III was the de facto leader of a rising Aymaru and Quechua elite in the Viceroyalty of Peru, whose extensive influence among the indigenous peoples of Upper and Lower Peru made him and his advisors the real center of power in the region, not the Viceroy. The region had garnered a reputation for producing strong military leaders, many women among them, and Amaru III (through his local subordinates) could call upon an ad hoc army of many thousands - something he very well did following the Tumult in Spain. Headquartered in Cuzco, Amaru III’s army began to establish a government parallel to the legal authority emanating from Lima as early as 1808. With the collapse of the royalist side into feuding claims, the position of incumbent Viceroy José Fernando de Abascal y Sousa was made precarious - who, if anyone, should he declare for?
An ardent absolutist monarchist, Sousa chose the senior Carlos, and was quickly “replaced” by candidates from each of the rival candidates (though neither of these replacements could actually make the trip). This move was generally smart, and necessary, and was likely responsible for Sousa’s ability to hang on (for dear life) in the coming years. Yet the declaration generated discontent in the ranks from the already-shaken Spanish armies of Peru, and limited the offensive military moves he could make against Amaru III. Largely in control of the Peruvian highlands and the Inca heartland, Amaru III moved to champion his late uncle’s cause, and officially declared the restoration of the Inca State. The State’s de jure claims were quite wide, yet de facto Tupac’s territory was hemmed in: to the South, the La Paz junta was locked in combat with loyalist forces, and a number of smaller juntas had been established, contributing to a general chaos. To the North, Sousa’s operationally limited yet tactically powerful force of royalists held Lima and much of lower Peru. Local authorities in Chile came out on the side of Sousa, yet even during the height of Spanish control over South America, control over Chile and its governance from Lima had long been hazy. The thin strip of mountainous territory slipped, too, into civil conflict between royalists, federalists, and centralists.
To the North were other declarations of independence. The first came from Caracas, soon bringing about the establishment of the First Republic of Venezuela, though much of the Republic’s claimed territory was in fact held by royalists of different shades. Complicating matters would be chaos in Bogota, the center of the Viceroyalty of New Granada. Fighting broke out between differing royalist factions, providing an opening for the establishment of the Junta de Santa Fe and its subsequent declaration of independence. Yet while this nascent state claimed possession of the entirety of the Viceroyalty, the area it held (known as Cundinamarca) was in reality quite limited. Other nationalistic juntas had arisen to the North and East, and much of the coasts remained in the hands of royalists. New Granada’s royalists were split between the rival claimants, yet the revolutionaries, too, were split between Federalists and Centralists. In this turbulent period, a number of distinct declarations of independence were passed by major juntas. To the West, the aforementioned unitary Free and Independent State of Cundinamarca was joined by the Federalist United Provinces of New Granada, which claimed the entirety of the former Viceroyalty. To the West, the First Republic of Venezuela was formally organized into the American Confederation of Venezuela, which itself would be overrun by Royalists, only to be re-established yet again in 1813 as the Second Republic of Venezuela, headed by creole patriot leader Simon Bolivar.
Simón Bolívar in La Paz
Oil on Canvas, José Toro Moreno, 1920
To the South, the May Revolution had outright removed the reigning Viceroy of the River Plate, bringing political chaos to the region. A new Viceroy was appointed in the city of Montevideo, while a series of wobbly juntas in and around Buenos Aires attempted to settle questions of regionalism or centralization through military force, sending out armies against both royalists as well as rival juntas being established in areas nominally within the Viceroyalty. One such area, the Guarani-dominated region later known as Paraguai, secured its independence fairly peacefully, with the local royalists largely too inept to prevent liberation. While nominally part of the Viceroyalty of Rio de la Plata, by 1814 authorities in Buenos Aires were unable to re-establish control. For by then the Viceroyalty was split in twain - to the West, the Liga Federal, formally the League of the Free Peoples, and to the East, the Centralist Congress of Tucuman. The former, headquartered in Montevideo and extending into the region known as Mesopotamia, while the latter controlled Buenos Aires and much of the sparsely populated hinterlands of the country.
The one bright region for royalism was the far North, the Viceroyalty of New Spain. Having relocated to Mexico City upon The Tumult, Don Carlos had carved out a base of support for himself among the powerful Creole landowners of Mexico, eventually gaining firm control of the entirety of the Mexican heartland. Yet control of the periphery evaded him, due in no small part to his priorities: Don Carlos, at the time, only saw himself as an exiled King, and his forces were largely concerned with planning trans-Atlantic landings upon the Iberian Peninsula. Don Carlos (a thoroughly thick-headed man) was generally unconcerned with the chaos unfolding in South America, and was even dismissive of the nascent revolts unfolding in Central America. The only real concern he had was a French-backed American invasion through Louisiana - a concern shared by the British, who obligingly intervened in Carlos’ stead (though this was mostly motivated by self-interest on the part of the Brits, who saw American control of the Mississippi as an existential threat to Prince Rupert’s Land and islands like Jamaica).
It would be Carlos’ illusionary control over the periphery that would doom him, though. His reign was from the start not particularly popular among the criollos and the emerging American-born middle class, who regarded the young pretender as an unwelcome usurper. Others still, beginning to dream of a distinct Mexican identity, found the Iberian hegemony he directly represented to be a threat to their aspirations. They, however, found it difficult to act out as some were doing in South America, though a number of informal Congresses were organized, and Mexican equivalences of the Stater ‘Committees of Correspondence’ began to build up an intellectual tradition, as well as a deep bench of patriots - figures like the pastor Miguel Hidalgo, wealthy businessman Vicente Guerrero, army captain Ignacio Allende, and many others. Yet while Carlos counted upon the support of Conservative landowners, on the edges of the Viceroyalty those who had begun to stake their claim to the vast stretches of land found themselves increasingly left out to dry. It was at this time, with the Brits and Spanish alike wholly distracted, that the Comanche began more concertedly to consolidate their hold over New Mexico and the plains of Spanish Texas.
The Comanche economy, at this time, relied heavily on raids and what trade could be conducted through the Comanchero trading class. Raiding and the capture of European or Creole settlers had gradually grown the Comanche population, though central political institutions were fairly ephemeral. In the 1780s, a number of Comanche chiefs had decided upon a single figure to represent them at peace negotiations with the Spanish. This man, a chief named Ecueracapa, had died around 1793, and had been followed by Encanaguané, whose death in 1810 brought a man named Tahuchimpia to the position of war chief. Generally speaking there was little need to negotiate with the Comanche before war erupted in North America. After hostilities began, though, the Comanche were recognized as important regional stakeholders.
For any campaign into Louisiana, and any control over the territory, relied heavily on how permissive the Comanche were feeling. Don Carlos, characteristically, was largely uninterested in anything that did not concern Europe. The British, though, saw the Comanche as a distinct threat to the stability of the Louisiana territory, and thus their campaign against the United States. Additionally, it was clear to anyone with half a brain (thus excluding Don Carlos) that the British in fact held ambitions towards the Louisiana territory, particularly in regards to the Mississippi River and the extraordinarily valuable port of New Orleans. To work with the Comanche would be to cement British control over this contested land. To this end, intermediaries who spoke English and Comanche (as well as Spanish) were recruited to put out feelers. Yet again, the Comanche were faced with the need for some sort of central political figure, a role that would be filled by the young Tahuchimpia.
War on the Plains
Oil on Canvas, George Catlin, 1834
The place that was chosen for negotiations would be the central watering hole of Comancheria, an area later known as Big Spring. A small permanent post would soon be established there, creating a permanent European ‘embassy’ in Comancheria for the first time. Negotiations would prove fruitful, both sides walking away mostly happy - the Comanche would continue to receive European manufactured goods, particularly firearms, as well as fine riding horses. The British were comfortable turning a blind eye to Comanche raids, as long as they were directed to the South and West, away from Louisiana. Thus, the British were comfortable with the knowledge that the British rear would not be raided or harassed by Comanche war bands, and additionally knew that if a permanent British presence were established in the Louisiana country, there would be a healthy trade of Comanche furs, meats, and goods waiting for them.
As the War of the Third Coalition progressed, British interests turned more and more to the re-establishment of significant British influence in North America. In mid 1811, the Red River Colony was founded by Thomas Douglas, 5th Earl of Selkirk, creating an agricultural colony that extended civilian settlement further into the Great Prairie. Without an active player in Central America, the British moved to secure their claims in Belize, opening a new fort and naval base on the island of St. George's Caye, solidifying British control over the contested area. Just to the South, an uprising by the Miskito people, a long-time British ally along the coast of Honduras and Nicaragua, rose up in revolt and expelled the Spanish from the capital of Bluefields, re-establishing the Miskito Kingdom under George Frederic Augustus I, himself largely guided by the newly-reappointed British superintendent, the physical representation of the re-established British protectorate.
The invasion of Spain helped bring about a new dawn for the ailing French navy. For many years, dating back to the burning of the old navy in Toulon, France had been pressed in on all coasts by the Royal Navy, and found it eternally difficult to resupply foreign holdings in the Indies, Australia, or the Caribbean. Yet the interbellum period had provided a useful reprieve, and a valuable time for construction. Adding to this was the capture of the Port of Cartagena by Revolutionary forces, where a sizable share of the Spanish Armada had been located. The rejuvenation of France's naval strength could not have come at a better time. Île-de-France, in the Southwest Indian Ocean, had been seized in an ambitious British naval raid by 1812, and the growing port of St Aloüarn in Western Australia was only barely hanging on with the assistance of local native allies. Critical to French naval success was the entry of the United States to the war, providing pressure upon the British Atlantic Fleets that France’s other allies, Poland and Turkey, could not provide on their own.
On that note, a brief aside, to examine one of the stranger episodes of naval history. In 1811, a Stater sailor, unsuccessful pirate, and recreational seal hunter founded his own country. Yes, really. Landing on the uninhabited island of Tristan da Cunha, Mr. Jonathan Lambert of Salem, Massachusetts, became the first man to permanently settle upon the desolate rock. Accompanying him was an Italian man named Tomasso Corri, an Englishman named William Stukeley, and a fourth named Andrew Millet - as well as Mr. Stukeley’s wife. The five began to busy themselves growing grain and raising pigs (and, in the case of the Stukeleys, children). Lambert, displaying more than a little of the grandiose insanity he would gain so much prominence for, declared the island, less than half a dozen people large, to be an independent princedom under his reign as Lambert I.
Yet the little islet became the center of military controversy when a frigate and a merchant vessel, British and Stater, respectively both sought to resupply there. Whichever side he chose would surely incur the wrath of the other! Caught between the horns of a dilemma, Lambert was saved by what he declared in his memoirs to be an “Act of the Lord,” though in reality it was an act of booze. On the night of January 14th, 1812, a drunk sailor on the British vessel knocked a cigar (stolen from the captain’s supply), stumbled and lit up an unsecured powder supply on the ship’s lower decks. The resulting explosion flung burning rubble far and wide, which quickly set the Stater merchant vessel alight! Suddenly, Lambert found himself the de facto leader of a straggling band of British and Stater survivors, hundreds and hundreds of miles away from homelands which did not yet know what would happen…
[...]
The story above is, no doubt, an amusing anecdote, with individual men and single vessels playing their roles like actors in a play. Yet the confrontation in the seas around the Islands of Refreshment (as the islands had been named by Lambert) also works as an encapsulation and simplification of the Anglo-Stater theater of the War of the Third Coalition: namely, a British frigate destroying a United Stater trade ship, with no small amount of sheer luck playing an important role.
The Stater land forces had achieved some minor success in the wars’ early days, advancing past the St. Lawrence into British North America and Quebec. Yet years of cuts and mismanagement under successive Jeffersonian administrations had left the army, and especially the navy, in poor shape for conflict. The Royal Navy quickly asserted naval supremacy along much of the US’s coast (though the move required diverting some ships from the mission of harassing French shipping, thus fulfilling one of Paris’s goals when it brought the US into the war in the first place!), and had thus staved off the threat of the Canadian Maritime Colonies being cut off by land with largely unchallenged resupply missions by sea.
Early Stater land successes were further undercut by the overstretching of their lines and the difficulties of resupplying through a largely hostile hinterland. Enemy tribes continually launched hit-and-run guerrilla attacks on Stater convoys and harassed the Stater rear whenever a larger-scale push was attempted into British-held territory. Any military movement around the Great Lakes ran the risk of coordinated Native-British guerrilla strikes on supply lines, leaving the initial successes of the invasion high and dry - literally, with a wave of dysentery at one point spreading through the Stater ranks thanks to contaminated water supplies.
By the Spring of 1814, Stater offensives had generally stalled and in many places had been forced to retreat for lack of adequate supplies. British forces, some still stationed in de jure US territory in a number of Midwest forts, proved implacable to the militias raised against them, and by the end of the season the Brits had taken Fort Detroit. Yet worse humiliations were yet to come, and at the height of summer, August 1814, the British marched (largely unopposed) through the streets of Washington D.C., and sacked the US capital. The Presidential Mansion and the Congress were both torched, with British soldiers infamously taking possession of the meal left in the Mansion (for the President and his wife had fled on very short notice), and toasting to the health of Mr. Madison. The spectacular occupation of Washington, D.C., though lasting only a few days before torrential rain forced the British out, was a complete and utter humiliation. Worse yet, and oft-overshadowed by the rout at Washington, was the subsequent occupation of Baltimore and the sacking of that city as well.
Worse yet would be the ill-fated battle of New Orleans. Acting without authorization from Washington (or, by then, Philadelphia), Major General Andrew Jackson led an army of some six thousand recruits, militiamen, and allied Natives, into the Old French Quarter of New Orleans, having severely underestimated the number of British troops occupying that city. Nearly the entirety of the Stater contingent, including Jackson himself, would be surrounded and slaughtered by a British defending force a size and a half larger than what the young Major General had mustered. While the destruction of the capital city had been a serious blow, the abject failure to take New Orleans (whose theoretical purchase had been the entire basis for the war!) convinced a number of influential Stater politicians that the conflict was largely in vain. For opposed to the war from the start had been the Federalist Party, long-unsuccessful yet highly influential, who garnered more and more support as the ill-prepared military foundered.
Battle of New Orleans
Oil on Canvas, 1815, Jean Hyacinthe de Laclotte
The United States would fall largely into a defensive posture for the remainder of the war, and British forces began a push into the Northwest Territory and across the Eastern Seaboard (at one stage seriously threatening New York City, though such a landing was dissuaded by poor weather). The 1814 election was a rout for the Jeffersonians, as the Federalist Party seized control of both houses of Congress for the first time. Yet the circumstances and the conduct of the election were quickly called into question.
The failures of the past decade and a half had only served to enlarge Hamilton’s influence, and worsen his distrust of the “rabble” and the masses. In response, a somewhat shadowy elite began to cultivate power behind the scenes. Some especially paranoid Jeffersonians began to decry the influence of Freemasons over the proceedings, yet it could not be denied that outside organizations, particularly the Society of the Cincinnati, the country’s premier hereditary military order (and, as some believed, aristocratic society). With most popular elections held under threat of British military incursion, and a general state of mayhem having set in both on the coast and in the periphery, the election of much of the House of Representatives and many State offices were dubious, at best. Chapters of the Society of the Cincinnati, along with Federalist grassroots organizations like the Washington Benevolent Societies, largely selected the winners from among their own ranks. Tellingly, the winner of the 1816 Presidential election would be Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, influential Federalist and chairman of the Society of the Cincinnati. Even before the election, the United States had sent out peace feelers to London, a process which accelerated with Pinckney’s victory as well as with the general process of peacemaking that brought the War of the Third Coalition to a close.