Kettle War
For over a century, the northern Netherlands, also known as the Republic of the United Provinces, enjoyed independence, while the southern Netherlands were under the control of the Holy Roman Empire. The northern provinces used the Scheldt River for shipping, but access to it was closed for the southern provinces. This situation allowed the United Provinces to prosper, while the southern provinces were far from enjoying similar success.
In 1784, Emperor Joseph II of the Holy Roman Empire decided that he had had enough of the northern provinces’ dominance and wanted to use the river for his trade ships as well.
Of course, His Majesty could have just asked politely, but that was apparently beneath him. Instead, he equipped a group of three armed ships, led by the vessel “Louise,” and sent them against the Dutch to put them in their place. The Emperor was confident that the Dutch would not dare to resist, especially since they didn’t even have proper artillery.
However, the Dutch didn’t need artillery. As soon as “Louise” approached the northern Netherlands on the Scheldt, it was intercepted by the warship “Dolphin.” The events that followed were swift.
The “Dolphin” fired a single cannon shot. The cannonball shattered the soup tureen standing on the deck of the “Louise,” spilling its hot contents. The crew of “Louise” immediately surrendered. That was it.
Well, they were scared—what if someone had gotten killed?
Having lost his flagship, the Emperor was furious and sent troops to the Netherlands. The brave soldiers captured the old Fort Lillo, which had long been abandoned and was being used as a vegetable garden. They destroyed the dams there, causing a flood that resulted in human casualties.
The Dutch turned to France, which at that time was allied with Joseph II. The French, seeing the chaos caused by the Austrian Emperor, forced him to start negotiations with the Netherlands.
As a result, Austria paid the Dutch 9.5 million guilders as compensation for the unrest, plus half a million for the damage caused by the flood. Moreover, the Netherlands continued to control the Scheldt River and charged tolls from anyone passing through.
Thus, the Holy Roman Empire was humiliated, losing both a significant sum of money and a soup tureen in the war with the Dutch, without achieving any of its goals.
Pastry War
In 1828, civil unrest and looting swept through the sunny city of Mexico, as usual. One of the victims of the rampaging Mexican officers, who had just staged another military coup, was a French emigrant by the name of Remontel. His small bakery was looted.
Remontel filed a claim for compensation from the Mexican authorities, but they promptly ignored it. So, Remontel turned to the French government for compensation. The officials accepted his petition and placed it among thousands of other letters, none of which they had any real intention of answering.
There it lay for ten years, until it accidentally caught the attention of none other than King Louis-Philippe himself.
He read the letter and was outraged: How could this be? A French citizen had been wronged! This must not be tolerated. “Bring me the globe, we need to find this Mexico.”
France, by the way, was actively trading with Mexico at the time, but was being taxed more heavily than the United States. Something had to be done. The King decided to combine business with pleasure: show Remontel that his homeland hadn’t forgotten him and put the Mexicans in their place.
So, in October 1838, the French fleet arrived in Mexico and blockaded the city of Veracruz. France demanded that the Mexican government pay for the destruction of the bakery. The sum requested was 60,000 pesos, even though Remontel’s bakery was valued at only about 1,000 pesos. The rest, well, that was for ten years of accumulated interest.
Mexico refused to pay. In response, the French ships began bombarding the citadel of San Juan de Ulúa, killing 224 defenders. The Mexicans threw all their forces into battle with the French. The famous General Antonio López de Santa Anna even came out of retirement to lead the defense of Veracruz.
But it was all in vain. Under pressure from Britain, which had intervened in the conflict, Mexico signed a peace treaty. The country was forced to pay a total of 600,000 pesos, or 3 million francs, ten times the original amount demanded. Although Mexico agreed to the terms, it ultimately failed to pay anything (which would lead to another French invasion in 1861).
General Antonio López de Santa Anna, who had fought against the French, had his leg shot off by grapeshot and gave the lost limb a military burial with full honors. One might wonder if he regretted coming out of retirement, given how poorly things turned out in the end.
By 1870, the French Empire had finally come to an end, and the conflict with Mexico was forgotten. As for Remontel, for whom this whole affair supposedly started, he never received any compensation for his destroyed bakery.
War of Jenkins’ Ear
In 1738, a British sailor named Robert Jenkins appeared before Parliament. He displayed his ear, preserved in a jar of alcohol, and told a dramatic story about how he had lost it.
Seven years earlier, Jenkins’ ship was returning from the West Indies when it was stopped by a Spanish patrol ship on suspicion of smuggling. Although the crew was innocent, a Spanish coast guard officer sliced off Jenkins’ ear with his saber to demonstrate what happens to smugglers.
Upon returning home, Jenkins filed a complaint with the Crown. His testimony was passed on to the Duke of Newcastle, the Secretary of State for the Southern Department, who forwarded it to the commander-in-chief of the West Indies colonies. The commander sent the report to the governor of Havana.
And so Jenkins’ complaint wandered through the bureaucracy for seven years, until Britain finally needed a reason to go to war with Spain over territorial disputes, particularly in Florida.
Suddenly, the Empire, “on which the sun never sets,” remembered that one of its citizens had been wronged.
The whole story was highly questionable. Jenkins often contradicted himself. Sometimes it was Captain Juan de León Fandiño who cut off his ear, other times it was a certain Lieutenant Dorse, or someone named Fandiño. Sometimes the Spaniards had tied him to the mast before cutting his ear, other times it happened in a brawl. His ship was either called “Guarda Costa” or “La Isabela.” Even the victim’s name was inconsistent—sometimes he was Robert, sometimes Charles.
But the British government brushed aside these inconsistencies: there was a sailor, and he was missing an ear, supposedly because of the Spanish. So, let’s go to war and figure it out later. In late 1739, Britain began a two-year war in Spanish-held Florida.
They later fought in Venezuela, engaged in naval battles in the Caribbean, and clashed with the Spaniards and the French, who had joined the conflict over weakened Austria. In short, a war in which around 25,000 people were killed or wounded broke out.
This conflict, mockingly called “The War of Jenkins’ Ear,” ended only in 1748. By then, everyone had long forgotten about the severed ear. Spain and Britain made peace, treaties were signed, and nothing really changed. Why they started the conflict in the first place remains a mystery.
War of the Golden Stool
Here’s a small recommendation for you to keep in mind — just in case. If you visit someone’s home and see a golden stool in the middle of the room, do not sit on it unless the hosts specifically ask you to. This is important. Even something as small as this could lead to bloodshed.
In Ghana, West Africa, the Ashanti people live. It’s after them that the pop singer was named, not the other way around, mind you. They have many interesting and ancient customs, but what especially stands out is the Ashanti people’s passionate love for stools. These stools are called asendwa and are viewed not as furniture, but as religious objects. It is believed that the stool houses the souls of all the deceased, as well as the living yet unborn members of the tribe.
Only the matriarchs of families sit on asendwa, and only on major holidays. When the stool is not in use, it is placed against the wall, so passing souls can sit on it and relax.
The asendwa is a symbol of power and is associated with the personality of the tribal chief. When he dies, the Ashanti say, “A stool has fallen.”
Asendwa, the repositories of family souls, are present in every home in Ghana, but the most important stool in the state is the Golden Stool (it’s actually wooden but is called golden). It belonged to the ruler of the Ashanti Empire when it still existed. To this day, the sacred Golden Stool appears on the Ashanti people’s flag.
This object is so sacred that even the king is not allowed to sit on it — he merely pretends to squat without touching the seat during his inauguration. At other times, the king sits on a simpler chair, while the Golden Stool stands beside him… on its own throne. Yes, a separate chair for the stool.
As you can imagine, disrespecting such a valuable artifact has certain consequences.
In 1900, the Ashanti lands were ruled as a colony by the British Empire. However, they retained sovereignty and the right to self-govern. This didn’t sit well with Governor Frederick Hodgson, who commanded British colonies on the Gold Coast. Along with his wife Mary Alice Hodgson and a small group of soldiers, he went to the Ashanti capital of Kumasi to remind the “savages” who was in charge.
The Ashanti greeted the governor warmly, and their children even sang “God Save the Queen” for his wife. Encouraged by the reception, Hodgson delivered a speech in which he explained that he ruled on behalf of Her Majesty, and therefore should have full authority. This meant he was entitled to sit on the Golden Stool.
The tribal chiefs listened to Hodgson in silence, then stood up and left to prepare for war. More than 12,000 Ashanti warriors attacked the British, laying siege to Kumasi. The British, in turn, brought in troops to protect their colonists. The ensuing three months of fierce fighting led to the deaths of about 2,000 Ashanti and 1,000 British soldiers.
And all of this because an arrogant official decided he wanted to sit on a stool.
Hodgson, who barely escaped from Kumasi with his wife, was transferred to Barbados for safety. Major Matthew Nathan was appointed governor in his place. He had a better understanding of customs and was tactful in negotiations with the Ashanti. The Ashanti retained their Golden Stool, which remains a sacred relic of their people to this day.
War of the Pacific (Nitrate War)
Officially, this armed conflict that occurred in December 1878 between Chile and Bolivia is known as the Second Pacific War. Unofficially, it is referred to as the Saltpeter War, or the War over Bird Droppings.
Guano, which is the excrement of birds and bats, was one of the main exports of Bolivia and neighboring countries. It could be processed into saltpeter, which served as fertilizer for agricultural crops. More importantly, it was used in the production of gunpowder.
Under British patronage, the Chilean government extracted guano in massive quantities and shipped it to Europe. The Bolivian ruling elites, for a fee from the British, granted the Chileans the right to extract this resource duty-free. For a long time, Bolivia’s primary national wealth was being drained and shipped overseas in tons.
But suddenly, the Bolivian parliament decided they’d had enough and imposed taxes on guano extraction.
When the outraged Chileans and British refused to pay, the Bolivians simply confiscated all the property of the companies extracting bird droppings on their territory. Chilean President Aníbal Pinto annexed the Bolivian city of Antofagasta because 4,530 of its 5,348 residents were Chilean. Bolivia declared war on Chile. Peru joined the conflict on Bolivia’s side.
In the end, Chile won the war because it had Britain’s backing. Guano extraction continued under the same conditions as before. Bolivia lost about 25,000 men to deaths and injuries, and another 9,000 were taken prisoner.
The province of Antofagasta was never returned to Bolivia, leaving the country landlocked, a loss they still haven’t fully reconciled with. To this day, Bolivia observes Navy Day to remember that the coast of Antofagasta once belonged to them. On this day, Bolivian women paint their eyelashes blue, and children are dressed in sailor stripes.
Incident at Petrich (War of the Stray Dog)
Finally, here’s a story about how a love for dogs sometimes leads to terrible consequences.
For a long time, Bulgaria had strained relations with Greece due to a territorial conflict over Macedonia. Despite provocations from both sides, peace was maintained for a time.
However, in 1925, a Greek border guard lost his dog. He saw it running toward the Bulgarian border at the Iron Gate Pass and chased after it. Bulgarian sentries saw an armed man running toward them and shot him.
This sparked a war involving 10,000 Bulgarian soldiers and 20,000 Greeks.
The conflict claimed the lives of 171 soldiers before the League of Nations intervened and persuaded both sides to cease fire. Greece had to pay Bulgaria £45,000 (3 million Bulgarian lev) as compensation for the damages, while Bulgaria paid compensation to the family of the unfortunate Greek. The dog, by the way, was never found.
