Random Sunset


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So on last Christmas Eve, I was up on a park overlooking Glendora California, and I noticed the way the sun light was reflecting off some of the buildings below. I kept trying to take pictures of it, and they were kinda neat, but they really didn’t pop, so to speak. I moved up and down the trail I was on, looking for the best angle, and nothing I did seemed to make this potentially interesting picture work. Finally, I glanced over to my right and saw this…

A Park Under a Bridge


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As I mentioned in a previous post, I recently spent some time in San Diego. Whenever I get down to civilization, I tend to look for street art. San Diego had plenty of it. One location in particular stands out, Chicano Park. Many of the murals express explicit historical commentary, a fact all the more significant in light of the history of the park itself. It is the product of local unrest, a local community outraged at a series of developments diminishing the quality of life for its residents. The community had been separated from the waterfront by Naval installations, bisected by freeways and zoned in a manner hardly conducive to residential living. Plans to develop a highway patrol station seem to have been the final straw. It took an occupation to create the park as it presently exists.

And more of course!

Honestly, the stories I found here are a bit beyond me. So, I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves. That, and perhaps a link or two.

(click to embiggen)

A few more from around the neighborhood.

And some small pieces in the area.

Will Someone Give that Man a Drumstick!


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“I want a drum stick”

The old man hunched over the counter at the Kaintuck Chicken Massacre with his eyes glued on the roasted chicken. I couldn’t quite hear the young man behind the counter just yet, but I could see the old man pointing at the piece he wanted.

“I want a drum stick”

This time I could year the young teenager responding; “Do you want a 3-piece or a 5, piece. The meal comes with…”

“I want a drum stick!”

The old guy knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted a drum stick. A decade or two earlier, this old fella might have adapted his order to the menu, but now the details were clearly nonsense to him. He was pointing right at the piece he wanted. Why wasn’t that enough?The kid, for his part, wasn’t authorized to act on the desire for a single drum stick. The buttons on the cash register didn’t include that option. He needed to translate the order into something else, something that fit the categories he was allowed to provide. In a few years, the young man might have had the confidence to attempt an explanation, but the old man wasn’t listening anyway, and he had no idea how to deal with the situation. so he just kept repeating himself.

The old man, of course did the same;

“I want a drum stick.

Somewhere in the back, I imagined, there must be a manager, someone endowed with sufficient authority to just give the old man a drumstick, perhaps resolving the technical problem by putting it on the house. Maybe, maybe not. A manager might well have insisted on the usual categories just as the kid had. In any event, there was no manager up near the cash registers. So, the kid just kept repeating the official options.

And the old man just kept repeating himself.

Decades later, I can still hear the old guy’s words as I took my own order out the door.

“I want a drumstick!”

When San Diego Alaskitates!


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The lower 48 can seem like a foreign country, not always, but often enough. It’s strange to think so. I mean, I lived down there for over 40 years, so why would it seem so strange to me now? Anyway, it often does.

This feeling came through particularly strong last semester when I agreed to accompany a minor to a chemistry conference in San Diego. I often find myself working on the margins of my own fields, but I have to admit this one was a little bit of a stretch. So, it was with particular joy that I suddenly found myself looking at a bit of Alaskan history.

Right there in San Diego.

I had just descended below deck aboard The Star of India, one of several ships at the Maritime Museum, and there it was, a whole display on the Alaskan fish packing industry, or at least the role The Star of Indian played in shipping the products of fishing out to other parts. I was already enjoying the museum, and I long since warmed to my stay in San Diego when I saw this, and then my face lit right up.

There is something a little perverse about the trajectory that brings me here from the edge of civilization near to its centers only to find the ghosts of so many fish who’ve made that same trip themselves. Whether it’s a perverse irony or a perverse synchrony, I’m not sure, but either way these artifacts of an extractive industry shouldn’t really have surprised me. I enjoy living on the edge of nowhere, though I do so with the full benefits of the modern world to keep me warm and well connected to the rest of y’all, and of course, there is no real escape from the global economy. If places like Alaska are good for fishing, it goes without saying that when they are good enough, a fair portion of stories told about those fish will be told in other places.

Places like San Diego.

Anyway, you never know when a trip out will lead you to a little glimpse of home.


Originally named the Euterpe, this vessel was built in 1863. She hauled salmon out of Alaska from 1902 to 1923, being renamed The Star of India in 1906. As steamships came to dominate the industry, she was finally retired in 1926. Today, she is docked at the Maritime Museum, though she is still seaworthy. You can find a few videos of her out on the water.

(click to embiggen.)

Some less fishy photos of the Star.

The Star at Sea

A Republic of Obligatory Anachronism!

It has become a common gambit to tell people the United States of America is not a democracy; it is a republic. This argument seems to be coming from right wing circles, for the most part anyway. It gets a lot of its force from the fact that so many on left and even in the middle ground of our nation’s politics commonly refer to the United States as a ‘democracy.’ It gets a lot more force from the fact that at least some of the nation’s founding fathers expressed reservations about democracy. So, anyone casually referring to the nation as a ‘democracy’ becomes low hanging fruit for a quick correction easily supported by a few quick references to some of America’s founding documents. And of course the Republican party gets a little pay-off out of nudging out vocabulary in the direction of their own party moniker.

Fake quotes from America’s founders help to exaggerate the contrast even to the point of caricature (e.g. Not-Jefferson on Democracy, Two Wolves and a Franklin). It is also common to find those making the correction suggesting that anyone who refers to America as a ‘democracy’ must be advocating the very horribles imagined in such spurious quotations.

People do this all the time.

But are they really doing something?

(When they do, this I mean.)

Are people really doing something when they do this?

Yes! They are indeed doing something.

What they are doing is semantics.

That’s right! At bottom, this is a word game, nothing more. What’s more, it’s not a particularly helpful word game, owing to a deceptive shift in meaning over the course of the argument. Folks who make this argument aren’t helping u to understand anything; they are confounding real issues about how to design a government with minor shifts in vocabulary.


I’m not normally a fan of argumentum ad dictionary, but this topic is all about definitions, so let’s take a moment to cover a few options.

Democracy: We’ll go with Merriam Webster Online

1a: government by the people especially rule of the majority

b: a government in which the supreme power is vested in the people and exercised by them directly or indirectly through a system of representation usually involving periodically held free elections

2: a political unit that has a democratic government

3 capitalized the principles and policies of the Democratic party in the U.S. from emancipation Republicanism to New Deal Democracy— C. M. Roberts

4: the common people especially when constituting the source of political authority

5: the absence of hereditary or arbitrary class distinctions or privileges

Republic: Also using Merriam Webster…

1a(1): a government having a chief of state who is not a monarch and who in modern times is usually a president

(2): a political unit (such as a nation) having such a form of government

b(1): a government in which supreme power resides in a body of citizens entitled to vote and is exercised by elected officers and representatives responsible to them and governing according to law

(2): a political unit (such as a nation) having such a form of government

c: a usually specified republican government of a political unit the French Fourth Republic

2: a body of persons freely engaged in a specified activity the republic of letters

3: a constituent political and territorial unit of the former nations of Czechoslovakia, the Soviet Union, or Yugoslavia

Of course, there are plenty of other dictionaries out there, but the better ones are going to have MORE rather than less options for the meaning of the terms in question, and those up above are pretty representative of the options you’ll find in other dictionaries (though the specific examples mentioned are likely to vary). So, I am going with this.


What I want to note right off the bat here is the fact that government outlined in the U.S. Constitution, with its system of elected representatives, would match definition 1b for ‘Democracy’ above, and also definition 1b for ‘Republic’ above. I used to use a government textbook that spoke of the U.S. as a ‘representative democracy’ or an ‘indirect democracy’ as well, both phrases quite synonymous with common uses of the term ‘republic’ or ‘republican government.” In my experience, these are common ways of talking about the subject. In fact, I’ll wager that that is what people generally have in mind when they refer to the United States as a ‘democracy.’ They would be quite surprised to find that they are referring to a direct democracy with no constitutional restrictions on government authority (as those using the not-a-democracy gambit typically suggest).

Simply put; there is, in every day usage, considerable range of overlap between the meaning of ‘democracy’ and the meaning of ‘republic.’ The two words are commonly used to refer to the same thing.


Okay, so where do people get the idea that they are different? They do so because America’s founding fathers were openly skeptical of democracy. Sometimes the founders expressed this in terms of a need check extreme forms of democracy and sometimes they voiced opposition to democracy altogether. And yet, their comments on the subject were not uniformly negative. It says something that the Jefferson and Madison faction of post-Constitution politics was (and is) known as the Democratic-Republicans. If democracy and republicanism could be juxtaposed in opposition to one another, they could also be seen as complementary. Those snarking about how the United states is a ‘republic’ and not a ‘democracy’ take notice of the one theme while seeking to hide the other.

Perhaps the most strident diatribe against a democracy in the founding era comes from Federalist 10, written by James Madison. The relevant passages begin…

From this view of the subject, it may be concluded that a pure democracy, by which I mean a society, consisting of a small number of citizens, who assemble and administer the government in person, can admit of no cure for the mischiefs of faction.

It’s worth noting the hedge in Madison’s comments at this point in the article; he is speaking of “pure democracy,” which seems to leave open the possibility of other not-so-pure democracies. Also, it’s worth noting that he attributes two separate features to this pure democracy; small size and direct participation. The former is a direct function of the purpose of the Federalist papers; they are an effort to sell the Constitution to the public, and along with the Constitution, a much larger and stronger central government. Madison is making a case for a larger government by telling us that smaller governments are more prone to corruption by factional interests. That is part of what he means when he contrasts ‘democracy’ with ‘republic.’ Significantly, this theme runs quite counter to the politics of the Republican Party with its current penchant for bashing big-gov. So, it should be no surprise that those insisting America is a republic would not take up this aspect of Madison’s thinking. The second theme, that direct democracy is a problem (i.e. that letting the people as a whole make decisions about government themselves) makes more of an appearance in their rhetoric. At least some of those telling us the USA is not a democracy will call attention to the representative nature of our legislative process. A lot of educational materials will put that closer to the center of a discussion on the topic. So, did Madison.

A republic, by which I mean a government in which the scheme of representation takes place, opens a different prospect, and promises the cure for which we are seeking. Let us examine the points in which it varies from pure democracy, and we shall comprehend both the nature of the cure, and the efficacy which it must derive from the union.

The two great points of difference between a democracy and a republic, are first, the delegation of the government, in the latter, to a small number of citizens elected by the rest; secondly, the greater number of citizens, and greater sphere of country, over which the latter may be extended.

Note that Madison describes the U.S. model of government in terms of elected representatives which would put it squarely in the domain found in definitions 1b above for both ‘democracy’ and ‘republic’ found in the dictionary above. That Madison refers to this as a republican model of government in contrast to a ‘pure democracy’ does not change the fact that today, people use the word ‘democracy in a manner that is precisely consistent with his own use of ‘republic.’ The point he is making is about the virtues of elected representatives, and there is absolutely no reason to believe this point – or would be – lost on those who refer to the present government of the United States as a ‘democracy.’ There is no reason to suppose that modern usage of the word ‘democracy’ (particularly in reference to the U.S. Government) is meant to apply strictly to direct democracies as Madison does in Federalist 10.

By the end of Federalist 10, Madison has dropped his hedge, and the contrast is simply between a democracy and a republic. The fact remains, however, that Madison’s use of the term is significantly more narrow than that of modern usage in which the word ‘democracy’ is commonly taken to include representative government or indirect democracy. If Madison (or any other founder restricting the term to a comparably narrow range of meaning) rejects democracy, then what stands between them and those Americans who think they live in a democracy is a question of semantics, NOT factual or practical matters. Those producing this sophomoric correction never account for the shift in meaning. They would prefer to pretend that they are weighing in on a matter of great substance.


Note: Another way of distinguishing a ‘republic’ from a ‘democracy’ is to talk about the role of a constitution as a document defining the terms of government authority and restricting that authority to specific contexts of application. This is particularly, important, some would suggest, insofar as a constitutional republic (theoretically) prevents the majority from voting away the rights of a minority. This too is deceptive. Those referring to the USA as a ‘democracy’ are not ignorant of the Constitution or the Bill of Rights, nor are they talking about government in a way that negates the significance of either. In college, the distinction is often made between a “strict majoritarian democracy” and a government limited by the terms of a Constitution. It could be added that such provisions are still part of a democratic process, because even constitutions can be modified (albeit usually by the higher standard of a supermajority vote) and in the U.S. at least, our legislative representatives are still elected to office. People who call the U.S. a ‘democracy’ know this, and they certainly aren’t suggesting in such references that the Bill of rights or the proscriptions on government authority in Article 8 section 9 should be set aside.


I should add that the matter is not entirely trivial. The Constitution incorporates democratic principles into government in a variety of ways, balancing them off against measures concentrating power in elite circles. We can ask legitimate questions about how well these serve the people (or even whether or not they were ever meant to serve the people), but any questions about what we should do are poorly served by this simple either-or distinction. Recent efforts to subvert the democratic elements of U.S. government (such as the independent state legislature theory) pose a real threat to the integrity of American government.

Not to mention, a flagrant attempt to subvert the result of an election!

There are those who would genuinely prefer it if America were less democratic. This gambit gives them a cheap shortcut to an agenda they might find more difficult to articulate in responsible terms.


Semantic discussion should help us clarify meaning, not obscure it in the immediate partisan interests of those seeking to gain the rhetorical upper hand. There is a legitimate point to be made here, that America’s founding fathers had their concerns about democratic government. That point is not well made by opportunistic gotcha games like the notion that our nation is not a democracy because it is actually a constitutional republic. The United States of America is both.

Patriotism that Ain’t!


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Just a minor footnote to the story of the former guy. If you watch the footage of his July 4th celebration in the Black Hills, you may notice a catchy little tune that accompanies the first few moments of the fireworks (they begin at @around 4:52:45 on this video).

Catchy isn’t it?

Some of you may find that tine to be a little bit familiar.

Wondering where you might have heard it before?

Don’t worry!

It’s not a coincidence.

The tune is called Gary Owen. It was the marching tune for Custer’s 7th cavalry. His band really did play this song as he attacked Black Kettle’s village on the Washita River.

I guess someone in the Trump camp must have thought to include that as a little extra message for the Native American community, and most especially for the protesters who thought Trump never should have brought his celebration there out to the Black Hills.

It’s actually kind of an apt metaphor for the Trump administration An invitation for all of us to wave flags and celebrate our national heritage.

…Even as they stick it to someone in that very same message.

Because, nothing at all is really any fun someone gets hurt

The CSS Shenandoah


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Where was the last shot fired in the civil war?

No, seriously!

Where was that last shot fired?

Oh, also, when?

Some folks would put that on April 9th, 1865, when the battle of Appomattox Courthouse (Virginia) concluded with Lee’s surrender. (Presumably, the last shot would have been fired a little before the surrender, but at any rate, you can see why this moment might be a good candidate for the end of hostilities.) On the other hand, Lee’s surrender left a number of other Confederate forces in the field and still quite willing to fight. Some folks thought the last shot was fired a little later on, in Waynesville, North Carolina on May 6th, 1865. Of course the battle of Palmito Ranch (Texas) comes after that (May 12, 1865), which leads some to name that as the last battle of the civil war. Apparently, there was a small battle in Eufaula, Alabama, on May 19th of 1865 which certainly beats all of the above. If we are looking for an official end of the war, we could put it at May 5th when Confederate President, Jefferson Davis, officially disbanded the Confederate government or on May 10th when Davis was captured, putting to rest any hopes that he might somehow carry on after all. One might say that nothing after that counts. Just don’t tell that to Frank and Jesse James who seemed to view themselves as continuing the struggle well into what most would think a completely different story altogether. We could probably find a few other outlaws who might have told similar accounts of their actions. Sticking with official military forces, it’s worth noting that the last Confederate General to surrender was Stand Watie, who surrendered on June 23, 1865. Just how much fighting he and his men were doing in those last few days, I must confess I do not know. And then of course, there is the Confederate canon ball that exploded in Fort Macon, NC in the winter of 1942, putting an American soldier in the hospital for a couple days. Does that count? I’m gonna say ‘no’, but I do wonder what those who fired that shot might think to find out they scored a hit so many years afterwards. Clearly, there are a lot of candidates for the last shot of that war.

Or a story about a war.


Turns out it isn’t easy to wrap up a war!

I’m half-tempted to say the last shot of the civil war (so far) is the one that killed Ashli Babbitt on January 6th of this year, but that’s a whole other write-up.


Part of the Shenandoah exhibit at the Alaska Veterans Museum in Anchorage

So, what was the last shot of the civil war?

It really depends on what you choose to count as the last shot.

The key word there is ‘choose’.


Let me tell you about my favorite candidate for the last shot fired in the civil war!

It took place on June 22, 1865, in the Bering Sea. It would have been one of two warning shots fired by C.S.S. Shenandoah in the general direction of the Sophia Thornton, a whaling ship out to harvest bowheads in arctic waters. The shot had its intended effect, bringing the Sophia Thornton to a stop so this Confederate Commerce raider could loot and burn it to the waterline before they moved on to plunder other ships in the Yankee whaling fleet.

What makes this the last shot?

Well it is the last shot fired by troops acting under a flag of either belligerent in what they believe to be an action authorized by their own government in pursuit of the war. Why is that the important criteria? Well it just is, dammit! (Jesse and Frank can suck an egg.) I have spoken!

The Shenandoah would go on to plunder additional ships over the next couple days, but she didn’t need to fire any more warning shots. In time she would head south in hopes of launching an attack on San Francisco. One final capture along the way proved sufficient to furnish proof of the war’s end, thus bringing to a close this one last chapter of the Civil War.

.Almost the close anyway.

The Shenandoah made its way to England before surrendering, a trip which was certainly an ordeal in itself. And then of course there were the Alabama Claims, a lawsuit in which the Shenandoah figured rather prominently.

Maybe that’s when the story ends?

Or maybe not.


It’s damned hard to wrap up a war.

Or even a story about one chapter in a war.


Route of the Shenandoah (Alaska Veterans Museum in Anchorage)

What I love about this story is that it helps me connect the Civil War to the history of Alaska. It might seem like a footnote in the story of either Alaska or the Civil War, but it’s one of a few such footnotes that helps me connect the Civil War to students often prone to think of that war as a story for those that live in the lower 48. What I also love about this story is it keeps getting richer every time I come back to it.

Of course the story of the Shenandoah is not really just one story.

It’s a whole bunch of stories.

It’s a story about international relations. It’s a story of asymmetric warfare. It’s a story about whales and whalers. It’s a story about race and racism. It’s a story about law and violence, and the use of law as an instrument of violence. It’s probably a few other stories as well, but these are the themes this story usually takes takes on when I tell it.


First a few basic facts, which I probably should have mentioned way back in the first or second paragraph here, but anyway, you’re getting them now.

The Shenandoah began as a merchant vessel and troop transport, named the Sea King. She set sail from England in August of 1863 and finally surrendered to the British government in November of 1865. She first rendezvoused with another ship called the Lauren just off the coast of Madeira where she was outfitted with guns and other equipment necessary for work as a commerce raider. The Shenandoah was Captained by Lieutenant James Waddell, an officer in the Confederate Navy. Additional Confederate military provided the bulk of the ship’s officers, but the rest of her crew was initially unaware of the true purpose of their voyage. At Maderia, that crew was given the option to stay aboard and help on her actual mission (for a share of the loot), or to return home aboard the Lauren in the event that work in borderline piracy was not to their tastes. In time, the Shenandoah would flesh out her crew by adding sailors from the very ships she plundered. Apparently, it was not unusual for men to volunteer in such cases. Neither was it all that rare for the crew of a commerce raider to push the issue.

And by “push the issue” I might mean torture.

The Shenandoah carried 8 total canons of various sizes, not enough to make her a formidable warship, but enough to make resistance from a merchant vessel a losing proposition. She was equipped with a full set of masts with which to catch the winds as well as an auxiliary steam engine to get her moving when the winds weren’t so kind. She could make headway against the wind, but she could also take full advantage of favorable winds. Commerce raiders needed enough speed to catch their prey and outrun a full warship, and they needed just enough weaponry to defeat their civilian prey, or (more importantly) to convince their prey that surrender was the best course of action. By these standards, the Shenandoah was well suited to her task, at least when she finally got all the necessary materials.

Her first few captures, it seems, were secured through a bit of a bluff as her canons lacked the proper rope and tackle system to reload. Also, she didn’t really have enough crew. Once these problems were resolved, she was good to go!


International relations: The first chapters of any book about the Shenandoah are inevitably chapters of political intrigue. The ship was born in England, but of course that was politically impossible. England was officially neutral in the American Civil War, and so they couldn’t possibly allow the Confederates to purchase a ship meant for war from one of their ports. This is why her first stop was made off the shores of Madeira. She had been purchased by Confederate agents, aided by the complicity of British officials, setting sail without weapons of war and barely escaping British waters ahead of Yankee diplomatic efforts to shut down the voyage.

The official neutrality of Britain in regards to the Shenandoah would plague her voyage as the Shenandoah had to look for neutral ports or hide her true purpose when stopping anywhere at any port under a British flag. (This problem nearly ended her voyage in Melbourne.)

Britain’s official neutrality and unofficial complicity of course played a role in the decision to surrender in London. Other options were considered, of course, but surrendering to the United States was pretty much out of the question. The legality of commerce raiding is questionable enough under any circumstances. It gets a lot more questionable when your side loses, and continuing the raids a couple months past the end of hostilities might be a good way to earn your way right into a hang-man’s noose. Under the circumstances, a neutral nation seemed like the best place to bring the voyage to a close.

The C.S.S. Alabama (Complements of the Maritime Museum of San Diego)

Britain’s complicity in this story would be revisited in the Alabama Claims, an international dispute resolved in 1872. In this case, the American government sought damages from Britain for allowing construction and purchase of 5 Confederate warships in their own waters. The Alabama was the most important of these vessels, but the Shenandoah certainly played a role. The Alabama claims ended when Britain paid the U.S. 15.5 million to cover the damages caused by ships such as the Shenandoah, thus setting the stage for international arbitration and eventually to things such as the Hague, the League of Nations, and the World Court.

…all of which states’ rights activists in the modern world might well consider examples of that Goddamned globalism!

(and thus the struggle continues…)


Asymmetric Warfare: How do you defeat an enemy that has more troops, more weapons, more industry, and more of pretty much everything necessary to fight a war? Well, to make a long story short, you might want to fight dirty. At least, that seems to a common response. That’s at least part of the story here. The Union established clear dominance over the Confederacy early in the Civil War and used a blockade to cut off much needed supplies coming in from other nations. The Confederacy thus relied on blockade runners to get supplies for the war, and on commerce raiders which served two purposes; they could weaken the Union financially, and they could draw warships away from the blockade as they were diverted to pursuit of the raiders. The Shenandoah falls into this category as it was tasked with wrecking havoc on the Yankee whaling fleet, then concentrated in arctic waters. It was part of a strategy born of desperation, but it’s also part of a strategy that works. …to a degree at any rate. It certainly works better than direct engagement with superior naval forces.

Ironically, the United States had a chance to prevent this sort of thing shortly before the Civil War as different European nations had put together an international agreement discouraging such practices. Realizing that it’s own navy was little match for its European counterparts, the United States declined to join the agreement, thus preserving the option to use such tactics in the event of a war with Nation’s like Britain or France (see Chaffin, pages 15-16). The civil war thus brought an unexpected twist of fate insofar as the Union found itself then facing down a weaker enemy with every reason to take advantage of this very option.

Suffice to say this would not be the last time, the United States would play Goliath to someone else’s David on the international stage.


Whales and Whaling: Upon encountering the first of Shenandoah’s prey in northern waters, The Abigail, Captain Waddell is said to have told its captain that the Confederacy had entered into a treaty with the whales (Chaffin, 231). It’s a clever line, one of several exchanged between the two men, but it doesn’t seem so frivolous in retrospect. At least some sources (Barr, Dunham), credit the Shenandoah with helping to reduce the Yankee whaling fleet which had only been working northern waters in search of the Bowhead population for a couple decades. She caused enough damage to change the way that insurance companies weighed the risks of covering a whaling expedition (Dunham). This wasn’t the only development shifting the economics of whaling at the time, but a plausible case can be made that the Shenandoah played a role in slowing down the whaling fleet. Waddell might well have thought himself to be telling little more than an amusing joke, but the Shenandoah may well have contributed to the welfare of the Bowhead population.

For Waddell’s allies at least, the impact of the Shenandoah were to last for some time after the close of its voyage and the war in which its crew served.


Race and Racism: One of the more interesting details of this story, at least to me, is the fact that the Shenandoah carried at least four African-American crew members (Chaffin, 360). One might wonder why an African-American would serve aboard a Confederate ship (a commerce raider or otherwise), and some of the sources which mention them do little to help explain this. Chaffin, however makes it clear that some of these men were put under heavy pressure, shackled, triced and threatened by Waddell who made it a point to tell one of them at least that blacks were the cause of the war. Mistreatment of these men continued well after their enlistment onto the crew. That one of them, John Williams, would escape during the ship’s stay in Melbourne would of course come as no surprise.

It would be easy enough to miss this. Just a few more sailors. These ones happen to be black, nothing to see here! Of course one can find denials of (and justifications for) their mistreatment in the comments of the ship’s officers. In the end, however, the story of the Shenandoah contains at least enough information to remind us that, at its heart, the Civil War is about a regime of forced labor defined in racial terms. To be sure, other sailors were pressed into service aboard the Shenandoah, but the treatment given to black sailors pressed into service does appear to have been significantly more abusive than that of their white counterparts.

Which really should not be surprising in the least!


Ahem, …Tricing consisted of hanging a prisoner for a period of time by their hands (or even their thumbs), often stretching them sufficiently to prevent their feet from supporting their full weight. This was done in conjunction with shackling prisoners and simply keeping in them in the same pen that was used to house animals carried for food.


Law and Violence: One of the more fascinating things about this story is the relative lack of overt violence in the capture of ships. For an act of war, this was generally carried out without any direct attacks on anyone. The ships captured by the Shenandoah were simply convinced to stop with a warning shot or two, after which the Shenandoah would send over a boarding crew to bring back the Captain of the vessel they had captured along with the ship’s records. These would then be inspected to ensure that the ship did indeed belong to Yankees, or at least that its cargo was owned by Yankees, after which the captured vessel would be looted, it’s officers, passengers and crew stowed aboard the Shenandoah itself, and then it would be burned. Some of these prisoners were treated as guests; others as prisoners. And (as mentioned) some signed onto service aboard the Shenandoah.

Prisoners were released in port.

What fascinates me about this is the legalism of the process. The officers aboard the Shenandoah were quite concerned to ensure that their prizes were legal, so to speak, even if the legitimacy of the legality was hardly something they could take for granted. They did not wish to plunder a ship from a neutral party, though; that at least would be more trouble than it was worth. So, the process was uniform, almost bureaucratic. They even enjoyed the option to require a ship to turn itself in at the nearest neutral port, effectively holding it for ransom, but doing so on little more than a written promise made under great duress.

The real violence in this story occurred primarily in the relationships between officers and crew or prisoners. Their actual naval engagements may have been a tad emotional, but they were largely legalistic affairs.

So much for the life of pirates!

Of course the men of the Shenandoah were not pirates. They were commerce raiders operating under orders from the Confederate government. This would distinguish them from buccaneers (private ships granted letters of marque from a government) or pirates who operated on their own without license from any government. The legitimacy of commerce raiding and letters of marque was always dubious, and it was coming more and more into dispute by the outset of the Civil War. In the end, their penchant for dotting legal Is and crossing legal Ts left them without much of a case to make when they finally realized the war was over. Things might have been different had the Confederacy won the war, but then again, they might also have been different if the Union had captured the Shenandoah. As it stands, they spent the final leg of their voyage trying to evade Yankee warships and get back to England where they might at least fall under the control and ostensibly neutral party.


Well, that’s it. Are you still here? Bet you thought this would be over long ago, didn’t you?

Like I said; it’s tough to end a war.

Or a story about the end of a war.

I really did warn you.


Bookish Things!

John Baldwin, Last Flag Down. (A monograph on the voyage of the Shenandoah)

Brad Barr talk in 2017. (It’s an interesting talk in which Barr argues that the greatest significance of the Shenandoah’s voyage was its impact on the practice of whaling.)

The History Guy on the Shenandoah. (A short and pithy video on the subject).

Laurell Bill, “Last Shots of U.S. Civil War Lands in the Bering Sea,” Aunt Phil’s Trunk. Aunt Phil is always worth reading!

Tom Chaffin, Sea of Gray. (A monograph on the voyage of the Shenandoah.)

Mike Dunham, “Civil War’s Last Shots Were Fired in the Bering Sea.” An article on the subject published in the old Alaska Dispatch News.

Lynn Schooler, The Last Shot. (Another monograph on the voyage of the Shenandoah)