John D. GraingerReseñas

This is one of the books that took me a long time to finish :) just kidding :) I packed it up last year when I was going on a trip and in the meantime was so immersed into other activities that I completely forgot about it.
Until two days ago that is. After finding it again (truly felt like reacquainting with the old friend) it took me less than a day to finish it.

This is an exquisite book about 10 year period in which (more by chance than by planning) Rome finally emerged as a fully imperial country together with its nemesis-to-be Parthia while old world-powers crumbled down into the history (Seleukids, Greek states (in Europe and Asia), and Ptolemies).

It is very interesting that basic statesmanship and super-power behavior did not change today when compared to those time in the past. Behavior, attitudes.... all is very much like today.

Also interesting is the view of the area of Iran, Afghanistan all the way to India - even then these were so far off places that nobody is able to provide the overview of the events there and what states there were like. Truly far off mysterious places.

The only downside is that at times the sheer number of [very similar] names makes you feel like you are reading phone book of the era - this can truly be tiresome at times.

All in all, a great book showing how local events had more than a tremendous international effect.

Highly recommended.

Oh for the time to reach such a volume! The papers and correspondence of admirals, of course, give a flavour of the life, troubles, travails, successes and operations of the Royal Navy of the time and even a browse through this volume ignites an interest in the exciting times of Admiral Duckworth and his colleagues.

Indexing such a volume is hard work and the index also appears on the page for this book on the Navy Records Society website. However, there are plenty of mistakes, not least occasioned by the different spellings of names and places in use at the time; words appear in the index that are just not on the page indicated (e.g. Nony - page 31 - does not exist) and little attempt has been made to correct, with footnotes, incorrect spellings or mis-spellings (e.g. Admiral Gumbis - page 16 - I cannot identify at all but Admiral Serces - page 16 - is surely Admiral Pierre-César-Charles-Guillaume de Sercey). It can't have been straightforward for admirals at war to know the name of their opponents unless their names were well-known or, indeed, the individuals were captured, and so on. I do wish for more information using footnotes, e;g. "Mortimer, Captain of Transport" is the index entry and, on page 457, is indeed mentioned "Captain Mortimer of His Majesty's transport Coromandel" - a footnote to advise he was "Captain John Mortimer", with yet more information about him, would have been helpful. Likewise, a footnote to tell the reader more about "Brigadier General Oakes" (page 257) would have been good. There are plenty of other names where the reader would have benefited from more information in a footnote.

Nevertheless, this is another pretty good volume from the NRS - do consider joining the Navy Records Society!

Any history that tells a story spanning 300 years faces serious challenges for both author and reader. Compounding the challenge for the author is the distance in time from the events described, the difficulties in translating ancient Greek and Latin source material, the scourge of missing sources, and the lack of context for days long past. Author John Grainger accepted these challenges to put together this very readable account of the golden age of galley warfare.

A 2011 release from Pen and Sword in Great Britain, "Hellenistic and Roman Naval Warfare 336 BC - 31 BC" takes the story of naval combat in the Mediterranean Sea from the time of Alexander the Great to the onset of Octavian Caesar's Roman Empire. At 394 pages in my Kindle edition, the book contains 16 chapters arranged chronologically. There is a section of maps, most handy given the number of places named in the text, as well as a small selection of images. The author includes endnotes and a bibliography.

The book's theme, neatly summarized in a small conclusion section, speaks to how different ancient regimes, states, and cities viewed sea power. Major entities--Alexander's Macedonians, the Romans, and, to a lesser extent the Carthaginians, saw sea power as transitory--investing only in ships, personnel, and infrastructure on when absolutely necessary. The opposing school of thought, that professional navies were permanent necessities of state, was accepted by relatively few powers--most notabl the Ptolemy dynasty of Egypt (and then only for a century) and the island state of Rhodes. Even then Grainger relates how Rhodes was really the only true practitioner of sea power throughout the period defined by this book.

The history as portrayed in "Hellenistic and Roman Naval Warfare 336 BC - 31 BC" is one that probably turns off most potential students of ancient history. Warfare between states and regimes are seemingly constant over the 300-year span--it is very difficult to differentiate among the various wars and battles. Armies and navies disappear without a trace, only to reappear in another conflict 5 or 10 years later. The Romans, in fact, seem to deliberately court naval disaster in failing to maintain a permanent navy. In the course of the three Punic Wars with Carthage, the Romans lost hundreds of galleys and tens of thousands of men to bad weather, operational losses imposed b the inexperience of the personnel and their commanders in newly raised naval squadrons. Keeping track of who was fighting whom is particularly difficult in the later Hellenistic and late Roman Republic eras.

I again applaud historians who are willing to work with the few sources available for this ancient topic. This challenge is particularly difficult when so much remains unknown--how these galley navies fought is still up for debate, and the details of the craft that constituted the navies are sketchy at best. Grainger's account is very readable despite the repetitious nature of the subject. The reader need only be patient to reach the author's aim in writing this book.

An excellent narrative history of a subject that gets far less attention than it deserves.

A narrative history whose scope is made admirably clear by its title.

I was given a copy in return for a review, which was published in issue 337 of Slingshot magazine.

John D. Grainger has clearly gone over to the other side.

The Maccabean era was historically fascinating, as the Jews rebelled against the Seleucid Empire and eventually established an independent state. Our sources for this are limited -- on the non-Jewish side, there really isn't anything except what we can glean from the histories of Appian and Diodorus Siculus and Polybius, which have nothing about the Jews and aren't very complete even for the Seleucids. On the Jewish side, we have the canonical Book of Daniel, the books of I and II Maccabees, Josephus, and a few stray comments in sources like the Talmud. II Maccabees is extremely tendentious (and often appears fictitious); I Maccabees only slightly less so although it was written by an author who is less willing to make things up; Daniel was written early in the Maccabean era but pretends to have been written four centuries earlier, so it is very cryptic; and Josephus largely follows I Maccabees. Not much to go on.

Not much, but it's something. It is possible to create a fairly coherent history from these sources -- Elias Bickerman did it, for instance, in From Ezra to the Last of the Maccabees. But Bickerman was writing in the late 1940s. We don't have any new literary sources since then, but archaeologists have been active! So there is surely room for a good new review of this history. John D. Grainger seemed a good candidate to offer it -- much of his work has been on the Seleucid Era, and I had read and been interested by one of his books on that period.

But this book has a lot more Grainger in it than history. A small example is his use of names: He calls the Seleucids "Seleukids." The general, Bacchides, becomes "Bakchides." Alexander Jannaeus is "Alexander Iannai." Every one of these usages is truer to the sources than the common names (e.g. "Seleucid" is spelled with a Greek kappa, so it should be pronounced "Seleukid") -- but they're not the names everyone else knows.

And he comes in with an axe to grind. The Seleucids are right, and the Maccabean rebels are terrorists. But every source we have tells us that the Seleucid Emperor Antiochus IV, having interfered heavily in Jewish affairs to raise money for his endless wars, decided to destroy the Jewish religion and desecrate the Temple, rededicating it to Zeus. This was the "Abomination of Desolation" of Daniel. Antiochus did this, we are told by the sources, because he was not entirely sane.

Not according to Grainger. He thinks that Antiochus's interference in Temple affairs was minimal, and was only in response to requests from those on the scene, and that it was the usual Seleucid response to local problems. No madness involved; just standard operating procedure.

But Antiochus's flakiness is not just a Jewish canard. Diodorus too tells us that Antiochus IV died insane -- and details his megalomania and aping of Roman customs. Ditto Polybius, who was in Rome to see some of this. I'm willing to allow that the Jewish sources are biased, but their basic story is supported by other sources!

And Grainger's use of sources is extremely selective. He completely ignores Daniel. He "uses" I and II Maccabees -- in the sense that he reads them, extracts one or two random facts, and then rewrites so extensively that victories become defeats and rescues of prisoners become terrorism.

Am I sure Grainger is wrong? To be honest, no. I've read all four Jewish sources (which are pretty heavy reading, at least in their English guises), and I've looked at Diodorus and Appian, but I haven't read all the secondary literature. This isn't my field of expertise. Maybe Grainger is right. But if he is, he needs to explain in more detail why he ignores Daniel, and randomly rewrites I and II Maccabees, and doesn't even take the non-Jewish sources entirely seriously. I guess I just have to keep looking for that up-to-date Maccabean history based on the sources. Frankly, this is such a whitewash that it makes me wonder about Grainger's Seleucid history that I liked.

[Update 11/23/2020: Added two references to Polybius's statements about Antiochus IV -- an important source, since Polybius is widely considered the most accurate historian of the period, even if a bad writer and one whose work survives only in fragments.]

Author John D. Grainger is mostly known for ancient history (see, for example The Rise of the Seleukid Empire); here he’s taken on a “sideshow” to the Napoleonic Wars: the British Campaigns against South Africa and South America in 1805-1807. He has three themes: a straightforward account of the military actions; notice that the units involved in both campaigns were mostly Scottish; and speculation on the long-term consequences.

The action against South Africa made military sense; the Cape was a Dutch colony and the Dutch (as the revolutionary Batavian Republic) were French allies. It was feared that a French naval squadron based out of Cape Town could interdict British traffic to and from India. The British put together a military force of around 6000 under General David Baird, and shipped it to South Africa under the command of Captain Sir Home Riggs Popham. Grainger begins developing his Scottish theme here, noting that both Baird and Popham were of Scottish ancestry and that one of the regiments involved was the 71st Highlanders. After some problems getting the troops to shore – one ship’s boat broached to and everybody on board drowned – Baird and Popham easily dealt with half-hearted Dutch resistance; in fact, Dutch civilians welcomed British rule because they had been cut off from European trade for some time.

This is when things began to go off the rails. Popham – he seems to be the instigator but Baird went along – conceived the scheme to sail across the South Atlantic and conquer Buenos Aires. His orders didn’t specifically prohibit that – presumably because nobody thought he would do anything so egregious. After all, Spain and the Spanish colonies were at war with England, just like the Netherlands and Dutch colonies. Popham scraped together some troops – with the acquiescence of Baird – picked up some more at St. Helena, and set off to conquer a city of around 45000 with 1500 soldiers. In the British army tradition of muddling through somehow, he succeeded, brushing Spanish regulars aside. Popham then sent a batch of letters back home – not just to the authorities, but to newspapers and personal friends, presumably to build public support for what he probably realized was a pretty hare-brained idea (he also sent a shipload of loot). This worked at first, with euphoric stories in the press on how there was a new, rich possession of the British Empire. Geographic confusion likely aided this enthusiasm; Buenos Aires referred to both the city of Buenos Aires proper and the Viceroyalty of Buenos Aires, made up of modern Argentina, Bolivia, Paraguay, and Uruguay. Grainger suggests British readers may have assumed Popham had conquered this whole province.

Things went haywire. Popham may have assumed that the residents of Buenos Aires would react the same way residents of Cape Town had; happy to have trade with Europe – or at least England – reopened. This turned out not to be the case; religion, native pride, and the rapid realization that citizens of Buenos Aires greatly outnumbered the British occupiers turned things around. While the British troops were the best in the world at formal warfare, they were not prepared to deal with urban guerillas – officers kept complaining that their opponents wouldn’t come out into the open and instead insisted on sniping from buildings. Eventually the beleaguered British asked for terms and marched off as POWs.
News got back to Britain and after some dithering it was decided that it was necessary to redeem national honor and rescue the prisoners, so another, larger expedition was cobbled together and sent off to the South Atlantic. These troops were able to capture Montevideo – once again, regular Spanish troops were easily defeated – but the attempt to recapture Buenos Aires ended in disaster. The geriatric generals involved put together a singularly inept battle plan – basically marching into the city without regard to flanks or rear – and these troops proved no better at dealing with urban guerillas than their predecessors and were also surrounded and defeated. This time negotiations led to their release, and that of the earlier captives – on the condition that the British evacuate (including Montevideo), thus ending British hopes for a South American colony.

Grainger’s comments about the aftermath of these campaigns are interesting. He contends that the presence of Scottish troops – with accompanying clergy and following missionaries, which he describes as “Calvinist” – led to a revival of religious conservatism among the Dutch already present in South Africa, and ultimately to apartheid. Grainger notes that the British government avoided allowing Dutch missionaries into South Africa, fearing they would lead to a resurgence of Dutch patriotism; instead they sent Scottish missionaries to the Netherlands to learn Dutch, then on to South Africa to preach.

In South America, Grainger argues that the British invasion greatly strengthened the independence movement. The natives noticed how easily the British forces had brushed aside regular Spanish troops – and then how easily local levies and guerillas had defeated the British forces, suggesting war for independence would successful. Although the British invasion was repulsed, some of the troops stayed behind; Catholic soldiers from Scotland and Ireland found a ready welcome, especially if they had marketable skills. Grainger notes that Argentina became a popular destination for emigrants from the British Isles, possibly due to reports from the returning invasion force and from those who remained; one such was the Irish sailor William Brown, who started as a cabin boy and worked himself up to command of the Argentine navy.

A concluding theme is Grainger’s speculation on the effect of the South Atlantic campaigns on Scotland. He notes that large numbers of “healthy young Highlanders” were sent to distant parts just when the “Highland Clearances” were starting – the replacement of small tenant farmers with sheep pasture. (See The Highland Clearances. Nibbling around the edges of conspiracy theory, Grainger posits that if the young Scottish men had remained at home there might have been more resistance to the clearances; plausible but not provable.

I note a final connection not mentioned by Grainger: Home Popham was seen as a hero in some circles, not as an adventurer who had egregiously exceeded his orders. One such admirer was Jane Austen, who wrote a short poem (“On Sir Home Popham’s Sentence”) defending him (See Jane Austen and the Navy for more).
Scholarly account of a little-known event that had repercussions over the years. Good maps, although I would have preferred them in the body of the text rather than the endpapers. Grainger supplies a number of charts and tables to support his arguments on the number of Scottish troops involved. Good references, bibliography and index.

The first in a three volume set on the Seleukids, by John Grainger. After the death of Alexander the Great, his generals divided up the empire. The division was not harmonious. The result is called The Successor Wars (one of the things that always puzzled me is all of the successors attempted to claim the empire of Alexander; none tried to expand their territories into areas Alexander hadn’t conquered). After some alliances and fighting with Antigonas (see Antigonas the One-Eyed,) and Ptolemy, Seleukos ended up as king of Mesopotamia; he expanded his holdings to the east, to include what’s now Afghanistan and Iran, and to the west, into Syria and Asia Minor.

Seleukos I comes across as a patient strategist, founding cities as defensive measures and not risking battles unless victory was fairly certain. His successors Antiochus I, Antiochus II, Seleukos II and Seleukos III struggled to maintain the empire, with bits and pieces nibbled off by their own rebellious satraps and relatives and other Hellenistic rulers. Life was pretty uncertain for Hellenistic rulers; Seleukos I was assassinated while visiting a temple, Antiochus II was poisoned by his wife Laodike, Seleukos II died in a fall from a horse and Seleukos III was assassinated by his bodyguard. It was hard to be a relative, too; Antiochus I executed his eldest son Seleukos and Seleukos III executed his aunt Stratonike (she rebelled in indignation after he refused her marriage proposal).

Grainger comments that the ancient records are uncertain; many are from Babylon and note things like “there was fighting against the king” without explaining who was fighting or why. He’s quite cautious and apologetic when speculating from scanty data. Still this is quite readable for a scholarly history. Grainger provides adequate maps and a genealogical table; still it’s sometimes hard to keep track of things like which Stratonike is which. Adequate endnotes and bibliography and a useful index. I’ll have to track down the other books in the series.

A study on the ruling houses of the ancient world, defined as stretching from the Atlantic to the Hindu Kush and from Scotland to Nubia, and lasting circa 1000 BC - AD 750. The first, shorter, part discusses various issues concerning the definition and characteristics of ancient dynasties, supported by the second part which tabulates roughly two hundred dynasties and calculates average generation and reign lengths for each.

You might consider it a reference work, or at least the second part, but I read it cover to cover and found it surprisingly readable. To be recommended for anyone with a more than superficial interest in the classical world.

Competent kings-and-battles survey of Phillip, Alexander and their successors, especially the first generation (Antigonos, Seluekos, Ptolemy, etc.). But this is deeply plowed earth already. The "failure" part is obvious -- Alexander was a great general but a poor administrator, who was more interested in conquest than governance. Good bibliography.

I was especially interested in the brief mentions of the settlement of Bactria. There's discussions on pp. 120 - 124 and 135 about the establishment of military garrisons during Alexander's lifetime and then colonial cities afterwards. Seluekos pursued this policy successfully in Asia Minor and the northern Levant; the independent rulers of Bactria apparently did as well. But until the modern discovery of Ai Khanoum all we had were histories, coins and sculpture -- "The Bactrian Mirage." Grainger writes (p. 191) that "many thousands of Greek colonists/settlers" moved to Bactria.