Tuesday, 21 May 2013

Book Review: Fighting for the Press: The Inside Story of the Pentagon Papers and Other Battles

By James Goodale


Do you think news organizations have a duty to publish classified information if they determine that it is in the public interest to know that information? Well, on June 13, 1971, the New York Times published the first of the Pentagon Papers, a series of top-secret Defence Department documents, leaked to it by Daniel Ellsberg, exposing U.S. government policies on the unpopular war in Vietnam. As expected, the Nixon administration sued the NYT in an attempt to ban it from publishing the documents, but the US Supreme Court, in a landmark decision for press freedom, ruled the prior restraint unconstitutional.

James C. Goodale, then the young chief counsel for the Times, was there leading the legal team every step of the way. This is his compelling, never-before-told story of what happened behind closed doors—the strategies, the decisions, the larger-than-life characters from the worlds of law, politics, journalism, and the military.

Price: $20:00
Publisher: CUNY Journalism Press
Publication Date: 2013
ISBN: 978-1939293084
Buy This Book

In his book, Fighting for the Press: The Pentagon Papers & Other Battles, Goodale presents a first-hand account of what happened as lawyers sought to defend the newspaper from the government. He remembers how he informed Harding Bancroft, the executive vice president of the Times, about a "secret newsroom project" involving a "history of the Vietnam War" that was classified "top secret sensitive." There was no precedent. Bancroft became "visibly upset." He said the Pentagon Papers could be the "most important event in the history of the Times" and it would be particularly "bothersome" if the Times published top secret documents.

The Times received legal advice to not publish the Pentagon Papers. It was argues that it would “not only be a crime to publish classified information, but it would be a crime even to look at the Pentagon Papers because they were classified,” and, “the Espionage Act covered the publication of classified information.” This was "flabbergasting" to Goodale, who found the First Amendment was absent from the lawyers’ analysis.

The Times wound up publishing after all, though Nixon immediately pursued an injunction. In a 6-3 decision, the Supreme Court ruled the US government could not stop the Times from publishing the Pentagon Papers, holding that prior restraints were barred by the First Amendment unless the publication "will surely result in direct, immediate, and irreparable damage to our Nation or its people" and Goodale was the first to develop the now widely accepted arguments that the Espionage Act should not apply to publishers or the press.

Fighting for the Press thoroughly recounts each episode in the Pentagon Papers case, including the tactics of prosecutors who tried multiple times to introduce secret evidence of “harm” or “damage” done to the national defence into court proceedings.

This is the story of a constitutional victory whose lessons are as essential today as they were in the 1970s, which Goodale reminds us of, somewhat unrelentingly, in his final chapters when documenting in detail all of the positions Obama claimed to believe in on these issues while in the Senate, arguing he has systematically breached all of them in his pursuit of WikiLeaks and Bradley Manning.

This is certainly an intriguing and thought provoking read. However, it seems that the desire for contemporary comparison rather overrides the intriguing story within, eclipsing this book's uses as a casual or bedtime read.


Thursday, 9 May 2013

Treaty of the month: What historic treaty has amused me this month?

This month: The Treaty of Fontainebleau (1814)

Yes ladies and gentleman, after a long absence and by literally 'some' demand the Treaty of the Month is back for May 2013! A throw back to the retro days of History and the Sock Merchant, this is where I discuss a historic international treaty that has amused me over my Yorkshire Tea and patisseries this month.

The Rise and Fall of Napoleon
Who, When and Where?

The Treaty of Fontainebleau was an agreement established in Fontainebleau, France, on 11 April 1814 between Napoleon Bonaparte and representatives from the Austrian Empire, Russia, and Prussia. With this treaty, the allies ended Napoleon's rule as emperor of France and sent him into exile on Elba.

The agreement contained a total of twenty-one articles. Based on the most significant terms of the accord, Napoleon was stripped of his powers as ruler of the French Empire, but both Napoleon and Marie-Louise of Austria were permitted to preserve their respective titles as emperor and empress. Moreover, all of Napoleon's successors and family members were prohibited from attaining power in France.

The treaty also established the island of Elba as a separate principality to be ruled by Napoleon. Elba's sovereignty and flag were guaranteed recognition by foreign powers in the accord, but only France was allowed to assimilate the island. Napoleon had to surrender all of his estates in France to the French crown, and submit all crown jewels to France. He was permitted to take with him 400 men to serve as his personal guard.

The treaty was ratified on the same day it was signed. The signatories were Caulaincourt, Duke of Vicenza, Marshal MacDonald, Duke of Tarentum, Marshal Ney, Duke of Elchingen, Prince Metternich, Count Nesselrode, and Baron Hardenberg.
The British position was that the French nation was in a state of rebellion and that Napoleon Bonaparte was a usurper. Lord Castlereagh explained that he would not sign on behalf of the king of the United Kingdom because to do so would recognise the legitimacy of Napoleon as emperor of the French and that to exile him to an island over which he had sovereignty, that was only a short distance from France and Italy, both of which had strong Jacobin factions, could easily lead to further conflict.


Why it has amused me:

In 2005, two Americans, former history professor John William Rooney and Marshall Lawrence Pierce, were charged by a French court for stealing a copy of the Treaty of Fontainebleau from the French National Archives between 1974 and 1988. The theft came to light in 1996 when a curator of the French National Archives discovered that Pierce had put the document up for sale at Sotheby's. Rooney and Pierce pleaded guilty in the United States and were fined (a $1,000 fine for Rooney and a $10,000 fine for Pierce). However, they were not extradited to France to stand trial there. The copy of the treaty, along with a number of other documents (including letters from King Louis XVIII of France) that were checked out from the French National Archives by Rooney and Pierce were returned to France by the U.S. in 2002. Cheeky Buggers!

Sunday, 28 April 2013

Book Review: The Unreliable Life of Harry the Valet

by Duncan Hamilton


Having had my fill recently of stories about the serial killers, lone gunmen and terrorists, I decided what I really wanted was a story of genteel crime in the highest echelons of Victorian society. I found just what I was looking for in the story of the ‘immaculately dapper and suave’ gentleman jewel thief, Harry Thomas Sands, in The Unreliable Life of Harry the Valet by Duncan Hamilton.

Price: £14.99
Publisher: Century
Publication Date: 2011
ISBN: 978-1846058134
Buy This Book






Initially introducing Harry as a Raffles type character, sweeping through Victorian high society, kissing the rings off the fingers of Duchesses and conning gentlemen out of their prized possessions, we are soon swept into a story that is much more complex than it initially appears.

Harry, for a start, is an enigma; what we know about him is predominantly the result of six autobiographical articles that he wrote in the 1920s for the The Weekly News. Advertised as the true story of this master thief, it is notable that it provides the only real evidence piecing together Harry’s life. He talks about his origins as a humble son of a picture framer, who steals from the family cash register to finance an increasing interest in the world of gambling and horse racing. Followed by his apprenticeship with a Fagin type character and his foray into the world of pick-pocketing, we are then led to his greatest obsession; the theft of jewels.

Harry finds himself hanging around at railway stations, stealing jewel cases from under the noses of porters and lady’s maids. He is remarkably successful and his spoils are used to fund a lavish lifestyle of gambling, drinking and having a jolly good time.
Like the best stories, the turning point in Harry’s life is when he meets with what will, ultimately be his downfall; falling in love. His love for an actress will lead to some of the most daring thefts he has ever undertaken and it will lead him to stand in the dock for one of the most famous jewellery thefts of the Victorian period.

What starts off at a somewhat slow pace becomes a very interesting story full of colourful characters. From the Police officers who capture him (including an early triumph for Walter Dew, seeking the acclaim and notoriety that he would later gain for the capture of Dr Crippen) to the Duchess of Sutherland, the not-so-very-innocent victim of the ultimate jewel theft, all the people that Harry encounters are not quite on the side of the angels and as a result you feel some sympathy for the book’s subject, despite his dubious morals. Perhaps the most heartbreaking aspect of the story is that the great love of Harry’s life is not returned and the object of his affection was unworthy of his efforts, giving the tale a tragic edge.

As a personal story in itself, Harry’s life is fascinating. There are also some really interesting themes to this book that require deeper reflection; notably, the changes in society from the Victorian into the Edwardian period, and the nature of self presentation in the media.
If I said more, I would spoil it. This is not a book for academics; instead, it is something to cosy up with on a night, to read a story that is at moments a love story, a crime thriller, and a fable about legend versus reality.

By guest reviewer Martha Stoneham.



Tuesday, 16 April 2013

Newspapers as Historic Sources

"The picture they [newspapers] draw is a response to a predisposed public opinion which is both satisfied and moulded by it" 

-Herbert L. Matthews, New York Times reporter


Even today newspapers seem to be marginal sources for many historians, who may give them a quick glance for a few juicy quotes to enliven the pages of already completed research. The emphasis is changing, however, as some scholars realize that newspapers and other forms of communication strike responsive chords in the public; otherwise, they could not exist economically. To a certain extent, then, newspapers are also gauges of public opinion. Since their inception in 1609 they have become the lingua franca of society, the most valuable index we have of measuring popular attitudes

Whether you are a researcher for a university, media or theatre company, a Teacher looking for historical coverage as it was written or even just looking for a specific article or picture, Timothy Hughes Rare and Early Newspapers are the world's largest sellers of authentic newspapers dating from 1600's-1900.

Original copies of historic newspapers can be bought through the website and they very kindly sent History and the Sock Merchant a couple of samples for review, an amazing edition of 'The Daily Post Boy' dated 1729, The Illustrated London News from 1881 and Harpers Weekly from 1864.



Few historians have wrestled with the problem of newspapers as historical sources.  Nevertheless, there have been some brilliant studies by American historians using newspapers as primary source material, and these works are increasing in number. The historiographical breakthrough came with Marcus M. Wilkerson, Public Opinion and the Spanish–American War (1932) and Joseph E. Wisan, The Cuban Crisis as Reflected in the New York Press (1934). After Joseph Goebbels focused attention on mass manipulation in the events leading up to World War II, a flurry of works appeared which considered newspapers as actors in the historical drama, not mere spectators seated comfortably in the box seats.

As a historian always trying to understand contemporary opinion these newspapers were a treasure trove, there really should be a greater exchange between historians and journalism scholars,  there is a long-standing imbalance to redress and stimulate discussion on the important issue of not excluding the proper use of newspapers as factual sources.  At the very least, the historian can examine and present the newspaper record of what was offered to the public and let readers form their own conclusions.

Tuesday, 26 February 2013

Churchill's Aircraft Carrier Icebergs

In 1942, the Allied forces were losing a significant amount of merchant shipping in the Atlantic Ocean, due to German submarine forces and the lack of adequate air cover in the mid-Atlantic. The range of operating aircraft was not sufficient to cover this area and aircraft carriers badly needed in other theatres of operation. If only some kind of large floating platforms in the mid Atlantic could be created to carry aircraft which could assist in convoy protection. Lord Louis Mountbatten was Chief of Combined Operations and part of the work of this department was to develop technology and equipment for offensive operations. He encouraged scientists to produce their ideas, however outlandish they might seem. Many ideas did not get past the drawing stage, but others were taken up and experimented with before being abandoned. One such idea was that of an iceberg aircraft carrier, and this project was enthusiastically endorsed by both Mountbatten and Churchill.


Project Habakkuk, as it became known, was a plan by the British Navy in World War II to construct an aircraft carrier out of pykrete (a mixture of wood pulp and ice), for use against German U-boats in the mid-Atlantic, which were beyond the flight range of land-based planes at that time. The idea came from Geoffrey Pyke an English journalist, educationalist, and later an inventor.
Pyke conceived the idea of Habbakuk while in the US organising the production of M29 Weasels for Project Plough, a scheme to assemble an elite unit for winter operations in Norway, Romania, and the Italian Alps. He had been considering the problem of how to protect seaborne landings and Atlantic convoys out of reach of aircraft cover. The problem was that steel and aluminium were in short supply and required for other purposes. Pyke realized that the answer was ice, which could be manufactured for only 1% of the energy needed to make an equivalent mass of steel. He proposed that an iceberg, natural or artificial, be levelled to provide a runway and hollowed out to shelter aircraft. From New York, Pyke sent the proposal he had composed on Habbakuk via diplomatic bag to COHQ (Combined Operations Headquarters) with a label forbidding anyone apart from Mountbatten from opening the package. Mountbatten in turn told about Pyke's proposal to Churchill, who was enthusiastic about it.

Pyke was not the first to suggest a floating mid-ocean stopping point for aircraft, nor even the first to suggest that such a floating island could be made of ice: German scientist Dr. Gerke of Waldenberg proposed the idea and carried out some preliminary experiments in Lake Zurich in 1930. The idea was a recurring one: in 1940 an idea for an ice island was circulated round The Admiralty but was treated as a joke by officers.

The decision was made to build a large scale model at Jasper National Park in Canada to examine insulation and refrigeration techniques, and to see how it would stand up to artillery and explosives. At Lake Louise, Alberta, large ice blocks were constructed, and a small prototype was constructed at Patricia Lake, Alberta, measuring only 60 by 30 feet (18 by 9 m), weighing in at 1,000 tons and kept frozen by a one-horsepower motor. The work was done by conscientious objectors who did alternative service of various kinds instead of military service. They were never told what they were building. Bernal informed COHQ that the Canadians were building a 1,000 ton model, and that it was expected to take 8 men 14 days to build it. The Chief of Combined Operations (CCO) responded that Churchill had invited the Chiefs of Staff Committee to arrange for an order to be placed for one complete ship at once with the highest priority, with further ships to be ordered immediately if it appeared the scheme was certain of success.

The Canadians were confident about constructing a vessel for 1944. The necessary materials were available to them in the form of 300,000 tons of wood pulp, 25,000 tons of fibreboard insulation, 35,000 tons of timber and 10,000 tons of steel. The cost was estimated at £700,000.
Meanwhile, Perutz had determined via his experiments at Smithfield Market that the optimum structural properties were given by a mixture of 14% wood pulp and 86% water. He wrote to Pyke in early April 1943 and pointed out that if certain tests were not completed in May, there would be no chance of delivering a completed ship in 1944. By May the problem of plastic flow had become serious and it was obvious that more steel reinforcement would be needed as well as a more effective insulating skin around the vessel's hull. This caused the cost estimate to increase to £2.5 million.
In the early summer of 1943, naval architects and engineers continued to work on Habbakuk with Bernal and Perutz. The requirements for the vessel became more demanding: it had to have a range of 7,000 miles (11,000 km) and be able to withstand the largest waves recorded, while the Admiralty wanted it to be torpedo-proof, which meant that the hull had to be at least 40 ft (12 m) thick. The Fleet Air Arm decided that heavy bombers should be able to take off from it, which meant that the deck had to be 2,000 ft (610 m) long. Steering also raised problems; it was initially projected that the ship be steered by varying the speed of the motors on either side, but the Royal Navy decided that a rudder was essential. However, the problem of mounting and controlling a rudder over 100 ft (30 m) high was never solved.

Naval architects had produced three alternative versions of Pyke's original concept, which were discussed at a meeting with the Chiefs of Staff in August 1943:

Habbakuk I (soon discarded) would have been made of wood.

Habbakuk II was closest to the COHQ model and would be a very large, slow, self-propelled vessel made of pykrete with steel reinforcement.

Habbakuk III was a smaller, faster version of Habbakuk II.


Air Chief Marshal Portal asked about potential bomb damage to Habbakuk III, and Bernal suggested that a certain amount of deck covering might be ripped off but could be repaired by some kind of flexible matting. It would be more difficult to deal with bomb holes in the centre portion, though the roof over the aircraft hangars would be made proof against 1,000 kg bombs. Bernal considered that no one could say whether the larger Habbakuk II was a practical proposition until a large scale model could be completed and tested in Canada in the spring of 1944. He had no doubts about the suitability of pykrete as a material, but said that constructional and navigational difficulties remained to be overcome.

The final design of Habbakuk II gave the bergship (as it was referred to) a displacement of 2.2 million tons. Steam turbogenerators were to supply 33,000 hp (25,000 kW) for 26 electric motors mounted in separate external nacelles (normal, internal ship engines would have generated too much heat for an ice craft). Its armament would have included 40 dual-barrelled 4.5" DP (dual-purpose) turrets and numerous light anti-aircraft guns, and it would have housed an airstrip and up to 150 twin-engined bombers or fighters.

According to some accounts, at the Quebec Conference of 1943 Lord Mountbatten brought a block of pykrete along to demonstrate its potential to the bevy of admirals and generals who had come along with Winston Churchill and Franklin D. Roosevelt. Mountbatten entered the project meeting with two blocks and placed them on the ground. One was a normal ice block and the other was pykrete. He then drew his service pistol and shot at the first block. It shattered and splintered. Next, he fired at the pykrete to give an idea of the resistance of that kind of ice to projectiles. The bullet ricocheted off the block, grazing the trouser leg of Admiral Ernest King and ended up in the wall.
Max Perutz gives an account of a similar incident in his book, I Wish I Made You Angry Earlier: a demonstration of pykrete was given at Combined Operations Headquarters (COHQ) by a naval officer, Lieutenant Commander Douglas Grant, who was provided by Perutz with rods of ice and pykrete packed with dry ice in thermos flasks and large blocks of ice and pykrete. Grant demonstrated the comparative strength of ice and pykrete by firing bullets into both blocks; the ice shattered, but the bullet rebounded from the pykrete and hit the Chief of the Imperial Staff (Sir Alan Brooke) in the shoulder. Brooke was unhurt.

Later that year Habbakuk began to lose priority. Mountbatten listed several reasons: the great demand for steel, permission had been received from Portugal to use airfields in the Azores which facilitated the hunting of U-boats in the Atlantic, the introduction of long-range fuel tanks that allowed British-based aircraft extra patrol time over the Atlantic and increased numbers of escort carriers
In addition, Mountbatten himself had withdrawn from the project. The final Habbakuk Board meeting took place in December 1943 and it was announced that "The large Habbakuk II made of pykrete has been found to be impractical because of the enormous production resources required and technical difficulties involved". The use of ice had actually been falling out of favour before that, with other ideas for "floating islands" being considered, such as welding Liberty Ships or landing craft together (Project TENTACLE).

Friday, 22 February 2013

Book Review: The Three Emperors: Three Cousins, Three Empires and the Road to World War One

By Miranda Carter


George V, Kaiser Wilhelm II and the last Tsar Nicholas II should have been friends (because cousins are always friends of course) - but they happened also to rule Europe's three most powerful states. This potent combination together with their own destructive personalities - petty, insecure, bullying, absurdly obsessive (exceedingly obsessive stamp collecting) means they don't really get along . . . much. When one chooses to look a little closer at what actually led to the onset of the First World War, one realises the relationship between these three men was actually fairly irrelevant. Despite the ubiquitous over general tag lines used to plug this book, its contents, thankfully and to my unbounded relief, stops short of arguing that the First World War was a 'family feud'.  Instead Carter offers an accessible human side of absolute monarchy.





Price: £10.99
Publisher: Penguin
Publication Date: 2010
ISBN: 978-0141019987
Buy This Book

In the 1850s Prince Albert had a dream that one day the thrones of Europe would be populated entirely with his and Victoria's descendants. Any potential aggression, diplomatic incident or violation of social norms could be reconciled over an appeal to shared bloodlines. By the turn of the 20th century, Albert's vision had come to remarkable fruition. Wilhelm II and George V were both grandsons of Queen Victoria. Tsar Nicholas II’s wife, Alexandra of Hesse-Darmstadt, was Victoria’s granddaughter. The mothers of George V and Nicholas II were sisters from the house of Denmark. Wilhelm and Nicholas II were both great-great-grandsons of Tsar Paul I. The Kaiser's great-great-aunt, Charlotte of Prussia, was the tsar’s grandmother.

As is now widely understood, Albert's dream failed dramatically. The collapse of that grand dynastic plan throughout an age of rapid technological progress and expanding international markets, provides the narrative structure for “The Three Emperors.” Many historians have examined the pre-war links between England and Germany; fewer have attempted (until Catrine Clay's King, Kaiser, Tsar, 2006) to incorporate Russia, a major player in the conclusive defeat of Albert's dream of a royal, unified Europe.

The Kaiser is the most unstable subject of this triple biography, afflicted with a lethal combination of inferiority and a desire to dominate, and exhibiting many symptoms of what Carter defines as a "narcissistic personality disorder" along with "attention deficit hyperactivity". Carter quotes foreign minister Marschall saying of him: "It is unendurable. Today one thing and tomorrow the next and after a few days something completely different."

But of course the most tragic subject is Nicholas II of Russia, who was not only weak, but also had a deep sense of divine right, no notion of the real problems of his country, a German wife and a haemophiliac son whose disease they felt they had to keep secret. Eventually, as from 1905, domestic political troubles started to envelop him, he increasingly became putty in the hands of his strong-minded wife. But, whatever his weaknesses, Nicholas certainly did not deserve the fate that lay in wait for him: being slaughtered along with his family, in the cellar at Ekaterinburg.

The Three Emperors is rightly unsparing in its criticism of the role of George V in bringing about that grisly outcome. The man who claimed to be Nicholas II’s “devoted friend” stands accused of having stood in the way of any attempt to bring the Imperial family to Britain. In the damning words of Carter, the king “panicked and placed his own worries ahead of the family relationship which he had always said counted for so much”.

The story is fascinating enough to bear the wealth of recent literature re-telling it from multiple angles. More entertaining than analytical, I'd recommend The Three Emperors and a well told accessible history -and we can never have too much of that.



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