The Three Hundred and Thirty-Five Years' War

In 1651, the Netherlands decided to get involved in the English Civil War between the Royalists and Parliamentarians. During the whole messy affair, the Dutch sent a fleet of 12 warships to the Isles of Scilly, an archipelago off the southwestern tip of Cornwall, to demand reparations from the Royalists, who had been raiding Dutch shipping lanes. Their demands were ignored, at which point the Dutch declared war on the Isles of Scilly. The Dutch hung around for three months and then abandoned the fruitless conflict and sailed home. But they forgot one thing: to declare peace with the Isles of Scilly. The bloodless war technically lasted for 335 years until anyone saw fit to formally sign a peace treaty, which finally happened in 1986. It remains, arguably at least, one of the longest wars in history (the shortest, in contrast, lasted just 38 minutes). 

War of Jenkins' Ear

In 1738, British merchants were increasingly protesting over Spanish control how the Spanish Guarda Costa (coast guard) was treating their trading ships in the Americas. The mood in Britain was that the Spanish needed to be taught a lesson. Enter Captain Robert Jenkins, a Welsh mariner who, in 1731, had his ear cut off by overzealous Spanish coast guards when they searched his ship for contraband. Seven years after that incident, Jenkins was called to appear in the House of Commons in London, where, according to some accounts, he presented his preserved ear, much to the outrage of the gathered assembly. The British public soon became aware of this episode, further stoking anti-Spanish fervor and helping to pave the way for a full-scale war that began in 1739 and ended in 1748.

The Kettle War

The Kettle War was a bizarre conflict that, in truth, was more of an international incident than a war. In 1784, the Holy Roman Empire and the Dutch Republic were squabbling over access to the ports of Antwerp and Ghent in Belgium. In a show of force, the Holy Roman emperor dispatched three vessels, led by his magnificent warship Le Louis, to seize control of the Dutch port at Amsterdam. The Dutch were waiting with their own smaller ships. When the enemy approached, their lead ship, the Dolfijn, fired a single shot that ricocheted off a kettle on the deck of the Le Louis. This terrified the ship’s incompetent captain, who immediately surrendered, handing victory — and the emperor’s flagship — to the Dutch. 

The Pastry War

In the early 1830s, a French pastry cook living in Tacubaya, near Mexico City, claimed that some Mexican army officers had damaged and looted his restaurant. He appealed to the king of France, demanding compensation, and in doing so, unwittingly helped launch a war. The pastry cook’s complaint prompted France to press Mexico for the grand sum of 600,000 pesos in compensation. In November 1838, with the Mexican president yet to make any payments, France sent a fleet to Veracruz, the principal port on the Gulf of Mexico. The French bombarded the fortress of San Juan de Ulúa, and Mexico declared war on France. But before the crisis could escalate any further, Britain stepped in and negotiated a peace treaty. The French forces withdrew in March 1839. The pastry cook, meanwhile, never saw a single peso from Mexico, which never paid the compensation — a fact that was later used by France to justify the second French intervention in Mexico, in 1861. 

The Pig War 

The Oregon Treaty of 1846 settled long-standing border disputes between the U.S. and British North America (present-day Canada). Even on the strategically important island of San Juan in Washington state, which remained contested, the British and American settlers seemed to be getting along. But then, on June 15, 1859, an American farmer named Lyman Cutlar shot a British pig that had wandered onto his land and was eating his potatoes. Things escalated quickly, and the local Americans requested U.S. military protection. A 66-person company of the U.S. 9th Infantry was sent to San Juan. In response, the British sent three warships. Then came a voice of reason in the guise of Admiral Robert L. Baynes, commander in chief of the British navy in the Pacific. He refused to engage any further, stating that he would not “involve two great nations in a war over a squabble about a pig.” So ended the Pig War, with only one casualty: the unfortunate pig. 

The Town of Líjar Versus France

In 1883, the tiny town of Líjar in Andalusia, Spain, declared war against the entire military might of France. Líjar’s mayor was apparently infuriated by some news he had heard, and immediately called a town meeting to discuss the matter. He explained the situation as follows: “Our King Alfonso [of Spain], when passing through Paris on the 29th day of September was stoned and offended in the most cowardly fashion by miserable hordes of the French nation.” The town council approved the mayor’s war motion, and Líjar duly announced its decision to the Spanish government and the president of the French Republic. Then, nothing happened — until, 100 years later, the town decided to formally end its war with France, with very little fanfare outside of Líjar, because everyone else had forgotten the war ever started. 

War of the Stray Dog 

Following decades of territorial disputes, tensions were already running high between Greece and Bulgaria in 1925 — and then a dog sparked a war. It all began when the dog ran across the border between Greece and Bulgaria. His owner, a Greek soldier, ran after the dog, and was promptly shot by the Bulgarians. The ensuing diplomatic chaos resulted in a brief invasion of Bulgaria by Greece, known as the War of the Stray Dog or the Incident at Petrich, which lasted 10 days and resulted in at least 50 casualties. The fate of the dog remains unknown. 

The Great Emu War

In 1932, a marauding horde of emus arrived in Western Australia, where they began destroying crops and causing general havoc. Farmers petitioned the government for help to combat the mob, which totaled at least 20,000 flightless birds. In response, Major G.P.W. Meredith of the Australian army was sent to the region in command of a small group of soldiers armed with Lewis light machine guns and 10,000 rounds of ammunition. Things didn’t go well. The emus were tougher, faster, and more intelligent than expected, and it took 2,500 rounds of ammunition to fell just 200 of the birds. The “war” was eventually abandoned, with the emus victorious.  

The Whisky War

For half a century, Denmark and Canada were engaged in what must be one of the friendliest wars of all time. It all started in the 1970s, when the two nations were deliberating over their Arctic boundaries, including a small, desolate chunk of rock called Hans Island. No one could really agree on how to divide Hans, so it remained in rather unimportant limbo. Then, in 1984, some Canadian soldiers landed on the rock and promptly planted a maple leaf flag and left a bottle of whisky before returning home. In response, Denmark flew a representative out to the island, who replaced the flag with the Danish flag, leaving a bottle of schnapps and a note that read “Welcome to Danish Island.” The Whisky War had begun in earnest. This amicable conflict continued for 50 years, with the regular exchange of flags, notes, and bottles of booze. Finally, in 2022, Denmark and Canada struck a deal over the tiny, uninhabited Arctic island, ending the Whisky War for good. 

Albania Escaped Soviet Control and Aligned Itself With China

Albania may be firmly located in Europe, but during the Cold War it found an unlikely anti-Soviet ally in China. Beginning in 1949, Albania aligned itself with the Soviet Union, which was then still ruled by Joseph Stalin. But after Stalin’s death in 1953, Soviet-Albanian relations began to strain, as Albanian leader Enver Hoxha was much less fond of incoming Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev. Khrushchev denounced Stalin’s ideology, which rubbed Hoxha and the Albanian people the wrong way and eventually led to the formal termination of Soviet-Albanian relations in 1961. Around the same time, the U.S.S.R. and China had a falling-out of their own, as Chinese leader Mao Zedong also decried the Soviet Union’s revisionism. Given their similar pro-Stalin views, Albania and China found unlikely allies in one another, with China informally providing support to the tiny Balkan country. These strange bedfellows remained on the same page until Richard Nixon visited China in 1972, forcing Albania to reevaluate the relationship. The allyship between Albania and China came to an end in 1978.

Jazz Music Was Used as Propaganda by the West 

Since its creation, jazz has represented the American identity, in part as a symbol of freedom of expression. That’s what made jazz music such a useful propaganda tool for the West to reach nations behind the Iron Curtain. Underground American radio transmissions brought jazz to residents of Eastern Bloc nations beginning in 1955 in an effort to appeal to those repressed societies. Programs such as Willis Conover’s Music USA: Jazz Hour earned cult followings within these pro-Soviet countries, as the U.S. sought to win the ideological war over its Eastern European rivals. The United States hoped that free-flowing jazz music could open the minds of citizens who were used to more formal operas and ballets, and in turn make those individuals more receptive to Western culture. Barriers were broken down even further in 1958 when jazz pianist Dave Brubeck traveled to Poland to perform a landmark concert series. These efforts extended into the Middle East, Asia, and Africa around the same time, as the U.S. spread its jazz music around the world.

The Fall of the Berlin Wall Was Partly Due to a Misinformed Spokesperson

On November 9, 1989, a gaffe uttered by East German spokesperson Günter Schabowski accelerated the fall of the Berlin Wall. After decades of difficult and dangerous travel between East and West Germany, East German officials sought to loosen restrictions while still maintaining control over the visa application process. However, Schabowski,  a spokesperson for East Germany’s politbüro, misinterpreted the notes he was given at a press conference and claimed that travel between the two sides could begin without delay. Shortly after the televised slipup, massive crowds gathered at the Berlin Wall, though these groups of travelers initially were held back by guards who were given no specific instructions. Eventually, East Berliners outnumbered the guards to a significant degree, leaving officials no choice but to let people through. Every one of the checkpoints opened by midnight, as people from the East freely traveled into West Berlin for the first time since the wall was erected in 1961. The feeling of independence and celebration was palpable, as East Berliners climbed the wall, destroyed it with hammers, and reunited with their neighbors in West Berlin.

The First Crusade

The armies of the First Crusade set off for the Holy Land in 1096. Warriors had gathered from around Europe, and a force of about 60,000 soldiers (of which some 6,000 were knights) and at least 30,000 noncombatants was amassed, known as the “Princes’ Crusade.” By 1098, the campaigning forces had taken major cities including Nicaea and Antioch, but not without suffering significant losses. By the time the Crusader army reached its primary objective, Jerusalem, in June 1099, there were only around 1,300 knights and 12,000 infantry remaining. Undeterred, they laid siege to Jerusalem, breaching the walls on July 15. The Crusaders then spent two days massacring the inhabitants and pillaging the city. The First Crusade was a bloody victory for Europe, and Jerusalem returned to Christian rule.

The Second Crusade

Despite the outcome of the First Crusade, holding territory in the Holy Land was no easy task. So-called “Crusader states” were formed, but the first of them, the County of Edessa, was retaken in 1144 by Muslim forces. In response, Pope Eugene III called for a Second Crusade, this time to be led by European kings. A force of 60,000 people assembled and marched east. The campaign, however, was a failure. The Crusader armies became stretched out, and after numerous skirmishes and a handful of sieges, the whole endeavor fizzled away. 

Saladin and Richard the Lionheart

Next came the rise of Saladin, one of the most famous figures of the Crusades. The Muslim sultan of Egypt and Syria brought forces from both nations under his own control and began attacking the Crusader states. Most importantly, Saladin recaptured Jerusalem — the prize of the First Crusade — in 1187, sending shockwaves around Europe. The pope soon called for a Third Crusade to recapture Jerusalem. The kings of Europe responded — most notably Richard I of England, known as Richard the Lionheart due to his reputation as a fearsome warrior. So began one of the greatest military rivalries not only of the Crusades, but of warfare in general. Richard and Saladin developed a mutual respect and admiration for each other through their conflicts, and became the defining figures of the Crusades. The Third Crusade ended in 1192 with the Crusader armies recapturing the vital cities of Acre and Jaffa. The Crusaders retook most of the territory captured by Saladin, but failed to recapture Jerusalem. 

The End of the Crusades

The Crusades didn’t end there. There were at least eight Crusades in total, until the period finally ended with the fall of the city of Acre in 1291. This marked the end of any major European presence in the region, and no further large military campaigns were organized. Between 1095 and 1291, a number of popular campaigns also took place, but without papal approval, so they are not considered part of the Crusades. This includes the infamous and somewhat bizarre “Children's Crusade,” led by a 12-year-old shepherd named Stephen. The details of this unofficial quest are questionable and may well have been hugely exaggerated by contemporary sources, which claim that as many as 30,000 children set off toward Jerusalem. Whatever the actual numbers, the Children’s Crusade was a failure and never even reached the Holy Land — but it can lay claim to being the first European youth movement.