The Internal Enemy: Slavery and War in Virginia, 1772-1832

by Taylor, Alan

  Cockburn had long wanted to attack the American capital. Lieutenant Scott recalled that the admiral “always fixed an eye of peculiar interest upon Washington,” for “every measure he adopted was more or less remotely connected, conceived, and carried into execution, as affording preliminary steps” to capturing the capital. By pacifying the Patuxent Valley, Cockburn had eliminated resistance and ensured fodder and provisions along his preferred route of attack. He promised that the invaders could advance to the head of that river “without meeting with the slightest opposition or requiring any Sacrifice from us whatever.” By also ravaging the Potomac Valley, the admiral had diverted American attention away from the Patuxent. In mid-August he persuaded Cochrane and Ross to adopt his aggressive plan to attack the republic’s capital.54

  On August 19–20 the British troops landed without resistance at Benedict, midway up the Patuxent. The barges and tenders of the fleet then ascended the river in parallel with the troops marching north along the west bank. A midshipman later recalled, “Never, in the whole course of my life, have I since witnessed a more imposing spectacle than the numerous tenders, launches, barges, and cutters of the fleet presented, with their colours gaily streaming, whilst the sun glistened on their various fancy sails and the uniforms of the Royal Marines.” Unable to resist, Joshua Barney blew up his gunboats just before the British advance could capture them on August 22. A day later Cochrane remained on the river with the fleet and most of the white marines, while Ross marched inland with his soldiers, the Colonial Marines, and armed sailors led by Cockburn. There was no way that he would miss the attack or trust that Ross could remain resolute without a steady stream of aggressive advice.55

  Ill prepared for the Chesapeake in summer, the troops endured a miserably hot and dusty march along sandy roads. One officer had never “suffered more severely from heat and fatigue.” Dozens collapsed from heat prostration beside the road. Ross’s chief aide, Captain Falls, became “deranged” by heat stroke. Cochrane concluded, “The Worst Enemy we have to contend with is the climate.”56

  On August 24 the Britons faced their first resistance at Bladensburg, just east of Washington. To block their advance Brigadier General William H. Winder, posted his troops on the high ground along the western bank of the Anacostia River. A professional politician but an amateur soldier, Winder’s only previous military experience involved getting captured in Canada, but he was the nephew of Maryland’s Federalist governor, which Madison hoped might assure a little more cooperation from the state militia. Although Winder had superior numbers, 7,000 men versus the 4,500 Britons, the American force consisted primarily of raw militia who had never seen combat. Only Barney’s 400 armed seamen could be relied on to fight. By contrast, the well-trained Britons had been hardened by years of victories under Lord Wellington in Spain.57

  Under heavy fire, the British pushed across a bridge over the river and through the American lines on the other side. The militiamen panicked, throwing down their guns to flee. One witness recalled that “the militia ran like sheep chased by dogs.” Only Barney’s flotilla men fought on until overwhelmed. A British army officer reported that the American defeat thrilled the nearby slaves: “On ascending a rise of the turnpike-road, from which we had just driven the enemy, we were greeted by a group of negroes, to whom our victory gave freedom. They were of course, rejoiced beyond measure at the happy change in their circumstances, and manifested their joy, in a thousand extravagant ways. Their description of the swagger and blustering of the Americans, previous to the action was highly amusing.”58

  Slavery had contributed to the American defeat, for just before the battle began, the militia became spooked by an insistent rumor that a slave revolt had erupted in the District of Columbia and the adjoining counties in Maryland. General Walter Smith of the militia recalled “that each man more feared the enemy he had left behind, in the shape of a slave in his own house or plantation, than he did anything else.” So they fled and dispersed to protect their homes. In fact, there was no such plot, but the imagined internal enemy had won the battle.59

  Chaos reigned in Washington, where many of the militiamen had fled. A resident, Margaret Bayard Smith, pitied “our poor broken militia. . . . Every hour the poor wearied and terrified creatures are passing by the door. . . . Our men look pale and feeble but more with affright than fatigue,—they had thrown away their muskets and blankets.” The president and his cabinet packed up their records and fled into the Maryland and Virginia countryside. Exploiting the confusion, local looters spread through the city before the British troops arrived. Madison’s body servant recalled, “A rabble, taking advantage of the confusion, ran all over the White House, and stole lots of silver and whatever they could lay their hands on.”60

  At dusk the British troops marched into the city. Aside from a few snipers, the invaders faced no resistance, merely suffering the loss of one horse shot out from under Ross. Later in life, Michael Shiner recalled his boyhood as a slave in the capital; nothing made a more vivid impression than the spectacle of the entering Britons: “they looked like flames of fier all red coats and the stocks of the[i]r guns pain[t]ed with red ver Milon and the iron work shin[e]d like a spanish dollar.” Then nine years old, Shiner started to run but “ole Mrs. Reid caught hold of” him and demanded, “Wher are you runig to you niger you[?] What do you recon the Br[i]tish Wants With such a niger as you[?]” Feeling more terrified than liberated, Shiner hid from the British instead of joining them.61

  The departing American officers had set fire to the navy yard and its ships, which lit up the sky with an immense red fireball. A British colonel recalled, “I think this was one of the finest, and at the same time, the most awful sights I ever witnessed—the Columns of fire issuing from the houses, and Dock Yard, the explosions of [gunpowder] Magazines at intervals, the sky illuminated from the blazes, the Troops all under Arms.” Breaking into the White House, and scattering the looters, the delighted British officers devoured the meal left behind by the fleeing Madisons. Later that night, Cockburn ordered the mansion torched by fifty sailors and Colonial Marines, who broke the windows with long poles and hurled in incendiary devices, “so that an instantaneous conflagration took place and the whole building was wrapt in flames and smoke.”62

  Giddy with triumph, Cockburn next led his burning party to the printing office of Joseph Gales, who edited and published the National Intelligencer, the official newspaper of the Madison administration. As a British immigrant to the United States, Gales offended Cockburn as a traitor, which the editor had compounded with blistering denunciations of the admiral’s raids. “I am really afraid my friend Josey will be affronted with me, if after burning Jemmy’s palace, I do not pay him the same compliment,—so my lads, take your axes, pull down the house, and burn the papers in the street,” Cockburn ordered.63

  Rather than torch the entire city, the British selectively burned buildings with military or political import. Applying Cockburn’s doctrine of discrimination, Ross assured civilians that their homes remained safe so long as they stayed peaceably in them. Only a couple of private homes burned as punishment for hosting snipers. In addition to the White House and the National Intelligencer shop, the British torched the Capitol, the War Office, the Treasury, and three rope walks rich in naval stores. Ross ordered the public flogging of a few soldiers who did abuse civilians, and the British carefully paid for their provisions.64

  Cockburn would never have burned the entire city, for he longed for applause from the ladies of Washington. The admiral appealed to a young lady, “Were you not prepared to see a savage, a ferocious creature, such as Josey represented me? But you see I am quite harmless, don’t be afraid, I will take better care of you than Jemmy did!” Cockburn sought to prove that the British were true gentlemen and to shame American men as cowards. He eagerly solicited validation from those women, who complimented the British on their gallantry and mercy. “He, and all his officers and soldiers were perfectly polite to the citizens,” Mar
garet Bayard Smith conceded. Lieutenant Scott exulted, “The Admiral was surrounded by a host of lovely women, who certainly outshone their countrymen in generalship. . . . The kind affable manner in which he calmed their fears, his lively conversation and gentlemanly demeanour, soon won over their better feelings.” A gifted ham actor, Cockburn regarded the capture of Washington, D.C., as his finest moment on stage.65

  On August 25 the British completed their destruction of military stores, a process interrupted by a ferocious windstorm that ripped off the roofs from some houses and drenched the troops with gales of rain. For nearly two hours the sky turned as dark as night, save for when vivid flashes of lightning lit up everything brighter than day. At sunset, after twenty-four destructive hours in the city, the British marched away, covering fifty miles unopposed to reach the Patuxent late on August 26.66

  Despite American dread, no slave uprising erupted in Washington during the British occupation. According to the 1810 census, the city had 8,208 residents, of whom 1,437 were enslaved. Like Michael Shiner, most hunkered down and stayed put. After the war, residents received compensation for only three runaway slaves. Like their masters, the Washington slaves were not prepared for the whirlwind British visit to their city. On August 26, during the British retreat through Montgomery and Prince George’s Counties, rural slaves did throng to the British as liberators. A British officer recalled, “We were joined by numbers of negro slaves, who implored us to take them along with us, offering to serve either as soldiers or sailors, if we would but give them their liberty; but as General Ross persisted in protecting private property of every description, few of them were fortunate enough to obtain their wishes.” A newcomer to the Chesapeake campaign, Ross did not share the admirals’ zeal to liberate slaves. The general also worried about slowing his retreat lest the Americans rally and counterattack. But some persistent runaways did tag along, making good their escape with the British.67

  During the British retreat, their only trouble came in passing through Upper Marlboro, near the head of the Patuxent, where a few soldiers straggled behind to loot, and some locals worked up the courage to seize six of them. Informed of this loss, General Ross sent back armed horsemen to arrest a ringleader, Dr. William Beanes, rousted from his sleep at midnight. When the British threatened to burn Upper Marlboro, the other villagers released the captive soldiers. The British kept Beanes, whom they despised as a traitor and backstabber, for he was an immigrant from Scotland who had treated British officers to tea when they had first passed through town.68

  Meanwhile, another British naval expedition ascended the Potomac under the command of Captain James Gordon. Rather than stand and fight, the American commander blew up Fort Washington (which commanded the river) and fled, opening a safe passage for Gordon to bring his warships up to Alexandria on August 29. Defenseless, the Federalist town fathers surrendered to the British, who exacted a massive ransom, loading twenty-one prize ships with plunder from the warehouses. En route down river, the retreating British dodged cannon fire from the bluffs, escaping with only minimal damage. While the British celebrated another victory, the Republicans blasted the Federalists of Alexandria as craven defeatists.69

  The British exulted in their triumphant campaign. From the pacified banks of the Patuxent, Captain Robert Rowley noted the “perfect unanimity . . . between Army & Navy. General good humour pervades, and some of the military officers having brought their wives, the battle being ended we have regular Balls, dinner parties, Pick Nicks on shore . . . the bands serenading in the woods.” The Britons celebrated their victorious march of fifty miles and back through an enemy country to destroy a gunboat flotilla, defeat a larger army at Bladensburg, and ravage Washington, D.C., which Codrington described as “the capital & pride of the Virginians and all other supporters of the Jefferson & Maddison party and the haters of everything English.”70

  While boasting of their prowess, the British also dwelled on the folly of their foes, who, in the words of Colonel Arthur Brooke, “would tamely allow a handful of British Soldiers to advance thro’ the heart of their Country, and burn, & destroy the Capitol of the United States.” Above all, the British delighted in striking a blow at American presumption. Bermuda’s governor (and Cockburn’s brother) cherished the victory “as wounding to the pride as destructive to the resources of the enemy” and likely “to put an end to the unequal & unnecessary contest in which they have so rashly embarked.” Addressing Parliament, the ruling Prince Regent praised the operation as “most brilliant” for having given the Americans a rancid taste of the “calamities of a war in which they have been so wantonly involved.”71

  Meanwhile, Americans felt shock, shame, and gloom. Thomas Tudor Tucker, the treasurer of the United States, wrote to his brother St. George Tucker, “I feel myself humbled & degraded. I have no longer a country or a Government that I can speak of with pride.” Tucker had hoped that the war would secure “the lasting respect of all Nations. What an Illusion!” Instead of resigning in disgrace, the president made a scapegoat of the secretary of war, John Armstrong, a self-promoting bungler who had slighted Washington’s defense. Madison replaced Armstrong with James Monroe, who also remained secretary of state.72

  After the sack of Washington, many Marylanders despaired of resisting the apparently invincible Britons. Anticipating an attack on Baltimore, Charles Carroll, one of Maryland’s wealthiest men, urged a peaceful surrender, reasoning that “resistance will be fruitless and if made will only cost the lives of some valuable citizens.” Governor Levin Winder considered his state capital, Annapolis, indefensible and assured his nephew, General William Winder, that it “wou’d be worse than useless to make an unavailing sacrifice of lives, and by that means bring on the destruction of the city.” The Annapolis magistrates met and agreed to surrender if the British appeared in force, and they privately urged Lieutenant H. A. Fay, the commander of the little American garrison, to withdraw for fear that any “firing from the forts would only exasperate the Enemy & cause the distruction of the City.” With only forty-two soldiers, ten of them too sick to fight, and the rest “confirmed drunkards,” Fay privately agreed with the magistrates. Twice he had ventured at night to one of the forts and surprised the garrison, “by scaling the walls & entering the Fort undiscovered,” because the men had passed out from too much liquor. By September in the Chesapeake region, the Americans desperately needed a victory to reverse their downward spiral.73

  Anthem

  After embarking from the Patuxent on August 29, Ross and his troops withdrew to Tangier Island to recuperate and prepare for the next attack. Meanwhile, the navy raided Maryland’s Eastern Shore to keep the militia distracted. On August 31 an especially promising young naval officer, Captain Sir Peter Parker, led a daring night raid meant to surprise an encampment of 200 militiamen at Caulk’s Field near Chestertown. Although guided by an “intelligent black man” to the camp’s location, Parker found the militia awake and prepared. Rendered overly confident by the recent victories, Parker attacked despite having only 124 men. After suffering heavy casualties, including a mortally wounded Parker, the British withdrew to their ships. This surprising militia victory thrilled the Americans and served as a dark omen for the impending British attack on Baltimore.74

  First View of the Battle of Patapsco Neck, 1814. In this 1814 engraving, Andrew Duluc represents the British attack on North Point, near Baltimore on September 12. At the top center, indicated by the letter O, Major General Ross dies. At M, to the right, British light infantrymen, who included the Colonial Marines, flush out the American riflemen who shot Ross. The main body of British troops appears at L. (Courtesy of the Maryland Historical Society).

  The British officers hated Baltimore as a Republican hotbed notorious for riots against Federalists and for sending privateers to prey on British commerce. Admiral Codrington assured his wife, “I do not like to contemplate scenes of blood & destruction, but my heart is deeply interested in the coercion of these Baltimore heroes, who are p
erhaps the most inveterate against us of all the Yankees and I hope they will be chastised even until they excite my pity.” This time Cochrane wanted no selective burning, seeking instead the city’s total destruction.75

  On September 10 and 11, led by Cochrane, Cockburn, and Ross, the British ascended the Patapsco River in overwhelming naval force. Their fifty warships included ten massive ships of the line, twenty frigates, five bomb-vessels, and a boat equipped to fire Congreve rockets. But they could land only 4,200 troops to attack the 15,000 defenders. Although primarily militia, the defenders had the shelter of strong earthworks; an able and active commander in General Samuel Smith; and the motivation of fighting to save their homes and shops.76

  On September 12, Ross landed his troops, including the Colonial Marines, at North Point to probe Baltimore’s eastern defenses. When the militia advanced beyond their earthworks, the British drove them back but suffered heavy casualties, including Ross, an inspirational leader popular with his men. His death deflated their morale, for they lacked confidence in his replacement, Colonel Brooke. Still the people of Baltimore expected the worst. John Moore reported, “I was surrounded with crowds clapping their hands together, writhing with agony, and uttering in loud exclamations their despair and grief.”77

  Brooke decided that his men were too few, the defenders too many, and their earthworks too strong, so he halted his advance and called on the navy to push into the harbor and destroy its waterfront defenses, principally Fort McHenry. On the night of September 13–14, Cochrane’s ships bombarded the fort with rockets, mortars, and cannon. “The portals of hell appeared to have been thrown open,” Moore wrote from the terror-stricken city. But the fort held, suffering surprisingly little damage as most of the enemy shots proved loud but errant. In the morning the admirals dismissed further bombardment as futile, so they withdrew their ships down the river after evacuating Brooke’s troops from North Point. The British losses included four Colonial Marines. As they sailed away, the naval officers sought to restore shaken discipline by hanging two white sailors convicted of trying to desert to the enemy.78