"The Case of the Cashiered Lieutenant"

I recently finished reading the science fiction novel Starship Troopers by Robert A. Heinlein for the second time.  It's a great book (much better than the 1997 movie of the same name, even though I liked the movie too).  I was reminded of a story that I had apparently forgotten, "The Case of the Cashiered Lieutenant" (the title of an article appearing in the Minnesota Historical Society's journal, Minnesota History, almost sixty years ago).  When used in this context, "cashiered" refers to the ritual dismissal of an officer from military service as punishment for a breach of duty.  The specific case refers to an incident that happened on June 6, 1813, during the War of 1812 (which despite its name, lasted from 1812-1815), when the USS Chesapeake lost a battle with the HMS Shannon off the coast of Boston.

Notably, the Chesapeake was one of the original six frigates built in the early days of the United States Navy, as brilliantly told in the book Six Frigates by the historian Ian W. Toll.  The battle was brief, lasting between 10 and 15 minutes, ending when sailors from the Shannon boarded the disabled Chesapeake and captured her.  The Chesapeake's commanding officer, James Lawrence, was killed during the battle, uttering his now famous words shortly before succumbing to his wounds, "Don't give up the ship!"

William Sitgreaves Cox was serving as  "third lieutenant" in charge of gun crews during the battle.  When Captain Lawrence was mortally wounded, Cox took him below deck.  Unbeknownst to Cox, all of the other officers had been seriously wounded, incapacitated, or killed, which technically made him the ship's acting commanding officer by default, though it's not known whether Lieutenant Cox was aware of this fact.  Technically, then, as the acting commanding officer, even if by default, Cox should have remained on deck to lead the battle.  

During the time that Cox was below deck, British sailors boarded the Chesapeake.  Cox returned to the deck and fired the last cannon round at the Shannon.  There were just too many wounded and not enough men left to fight off the British boarders.  The Chesapeake was taken and Cox became a prisoner.  After a prisoner exchange, Cox was promoted to third lieutenant permanently.  

Everyone in America at the time felt that the defeat of the Chesapeake was a major catastrophe.  Something must have happened, as the public believed that Captain Lawrence ("Don't give upt the ship!") could never have been defeated in a fair fight.  Commodore William Bainbridge of the Navy Department perhaps said it best when he wrote, "The well proved courage and skill of Captain Lawrence, and the bravery of the officers and crew, justify a full belief that the loss of the Chesapeake has been entirely owing to some fortuitous event happening on board of her, and not to any superiority of skill and bravery in the enemy."  In other words, there had to be somebody to blame.

The public demanded an explanation, and the Navy Department convened a Court of Inquiry in February 1814 to further investigate the defeat of the Chesapeake.  Lieutenant William Sitgreaves Cox would be the scapegoat that everyone was looking to blame.  Lieutenant Cox was brought before the court on April 15, 1814 and formally charged with cowardice, disobedience of orders, desertion from quarters, neglect of duty, and unofficer-like conduct.  He was convicted on the charges of dereliction of duty and unofficer-like conduct for abandoning his watch station while under fire from the enemy.  He was cashiered from service and left the Navy in disgrace.

Of course, there was another side to the story.  Second Lieutenant George Budd survived his wounds and testified that he and Cox had a conversation while they were being held prisoner by the British in Halifax.  Budd reported that Cox told him that Captain Lawrence had not asked for assistance to be carried below deck and had been angry that Cox had left his post in order to help him.  That apparently was sufficient to find him guilty.  Cox would try in vain to be cleared of both charges, though the guilty verdict was upheld by then President James Madison.  He entered a business career and died in 1874.

Apparently, Theodore Roosevelt wrote in his book, The Naval War of 1812 that Lieutenant Cox had acted "basely" during the Chesapeake-Shannon battle.  One of Cox's descendants protested so vigorously that Roosevelt later apologized and removed the word from subsequent editions. For a period of 138 years, Cox's descendants fought to clear his name.  They argued vehemently that Cox was simply helping a wounded leader and that he had no idea that he was the acting commanding officer.  In 1952, Congress passed a resolution to clear his name, and President Harry Truman officially restored Cox's honor and rank posthumously.  Cox's story was told in an issue of Time magazine (see "The Case of Lieut. Cox" from the April 6, 1952 issue), the New Yorker magazine (see "Scapegoat" from the May 3, 1952 issue), and the Proceedings of the Naval Institute (see "Scapegoat of the Chesapeake-Shannon Battle" from the May 1953 issue).

I think this particular story is a great example - and I believe this is why Robert Heinlein used the story in his novel, Starship Troopers - of what happens when you hold leaders accountable for something that they have no authority to control (see in particular my posts "The accountability-authority matrix", "Sell ice cream!", "You have to hold people accountable...", and "Necessary companions, but often strangers").  I don't think it was justified to blame Lieutenant Cox for deserting his post as acting commanding officer, particularly when his actions during the actual battle suggest that he acted courageously.  Accountability is important - leaders should be held accountable for their decisions ("The buck stops here"), but only when they have the necessary authority to actually make those decisions.  

Now, Heinlein argues in Starship Troopers that, fair or unfair, Lieutenant Cox was, in fact, the acting commanding officer and should have been held accountable for the defeat of the Chesapeake.  I do not agree, and I believe history has appropriately vindicated Cox.  But I think the lesson here is an important one for all leaders, not just those in the military.  As the unnamed "Museum Sage" of the Hampton Roads Naval Museum wrote in The Daybook publication, "Just when does blame begin when something goes wrong?"  We are often too quick to ask the question, "Who is to blame when something goes wrong?"  I would argue that we would be better off investing time in trying to answer the question "Why did something go wrong?" or "How did something go wrong?" as opposed to answering "Who is to blame?"