1812: The Navy's War

by George Daughan

  The grain shipments and the naval victories might have made the difference in the election. The results came in week by week and state by state. Except for Republican Vermont, New England went for Clinton. So did New York’s twenty-nine electoral votes, thanks in part to the work of twenty-nine-year-old Martin Van Buren. Clinton also won New Jersey and Delaware, while Maryland divided five to six for Madison. On December 3 the electoral college cast 128 votes for James Madison and 89 for DeWitt Clinton. The president’s margin was only twenty. Had Pennsylvania’s electoral votes gone the other way, Madison would have lost the election.

  The president’s narrow victory underscored how disillusioned large segments of the country were with the war and his management of it. Even supporters like Henry Clay admitted in private that Madison was “wholly unfit for the storms of war. Nature has cast him in too benevolent a mould.” In public, however, Clay and the War Hawks urged prosecuting the war with renewed vigor, as did the president. They had no other choice. The British were not in the mood to compromise on impressment. To the contrary, with rumors circulating in London of Napoleon’s troubles in Russia, and unexpected victories at Detroit and Queenston, the Liverpool government was thinking more of revenge than of reconciliation.

  So the president had to get on with the war as best he could, and the same went for the War Hawks and their followers in Congress. Madison’s original strategic vision, with its heavy reliance on the Napoleonic menace in Europe, remained intact. The stories of Bonaparte’s difficulties in Russia were at this point only rumors. As long as Napoleon remained master of France, the British would continue to be preoccupied with Europe. Madison thought that a renewed effort against Canada had good prospects for success, particularly with the Herculean efforts he was making to challenge British supremacy on lakes Ontario, Erie, and Champlain. Furthermore, American privateers were seriously disrupting British commerce. The naval victories on the high seas were an added bonus; they meant, among other things, that political support in Congress for strengthening the fleet would not be wanting.

  On November 4, even before the electoral college confirmed his reelection, the president addressed the second session of the 12th Congress, urging members to strengthen the army and navy. He called for an increase in pay for army recruits and volunteers, more general officers, and a reorganization of the army’s staff.

  He also called for a dramatic increase in the navy. The president did not mention how all of this was to be paid for. The enthusiasm of his congressional supporters did not extend to raising internal taxes. Madison left that ticklish matter for another day.

  When the president’s program went to Congress, Republicans generally supported strengthening the army, but, in spite of the navy’s splendid performance, many were skeptical of spending huge sums on naval expansion. Federalists, on the other hand, were strongly in favor of increasing the navy, as they had always been. On November 12, Secretary Hamilton summoned Isaac Hull and Charles Morris to Washington to celebrate their victory over the Guerriere and to help push through Congress a new approach to the navy. The chairman of the House Naval Committee, Burwell Bassett of Virginia, had written to Captain Hull that “we are determined to have a navy,” by which he meant a much larger one. The president and Mrs. Madison warmly welcomed Hull and Morris to the White House. Madison expected to make good political use of the naval heroes.

  Secretary Hamilton also employed Captain Charles Stewart, skipper of the newly refurbished frigate Constellation, moored at the Washington Navy Yard, to press the administration’s case in Congress. Stewart wrote a letter, cosigned by Hull and Morris, urging the construction of large ships of war, seventy-fours, and heavy 44-gun frigates. He also advised the economy-minded congressmen to appropriate money for the best, most seasoned materials, “which will be by far the cheapest, and be longer in a state of active service.... Past experience [proves] that the best materials are always the cheapest and that a slow increase is better than a hasty and temporary one.”

  To aid the lobbying effort, Captain Stewart hosted a party aboard the Constellation on November 26. The president and his wife attended, along with Secretary Hamilton and key members of Congress. Twelve days later, Dolley Madison, the most renowned hostess of her day, followed with a ball of her own at Tomlinson’s Hotel to honor Hull and Morris. The Guerriere’s huge, tattered flag was prominently displayed on a wall. The City of Washington sponsored the event. Captain Stewart attended, as did a significant number of the capital’s most influential politicians.

  In the middle of the festivities, Midshipman Archibald Hamilton, the secretary’s son, appeared suddenly with the Macedonian’s flag. He had served aboard the United States during the battle, and he now proceeded to unroll the huge ensign at the feet of the First Lady, after which he read Decatur’s dispatch describing the victory. Secretary Hamilton was in attendance, and he was delighted but noticeably unsteady from imbibing too much—a frequent occurrence that undermined respect for him.

  Ironically, Decatur’s triumph meant less money for Hull and his men. Since Decatur brought the Macedonian into port, and the navy eventually purchased her, the captain and crew received $200,000 to divide. Decatur’s portion was $30,000. Congress had previously promised Hull $100,000 for the Guerriere. Hull thought the figure should be triple that amount. But because Congress appropriated so much for Decatur, it reduced the figure for Hull and his men to $50,000. Hull’s share was $7,500. Needless to say, the Constitution’s crew were irate, and so was Hull. It was a bizarre, morale-destroying way for the country to reward its most successful fighters.

  CHAIRMAN BASSETT OF the House Naval Committee welcomed help from Hull, Morris, and Stewart in his efforts to increase the navy’s size and resources. From November 7 to 27 he held hearings before the Naval Committee on expanding the navy. Congress debated the resulting Naval Expansion Act for a month before both House and Senate agreed to Bassett’s original proposal, which provided for building and fitting out four 74-gun battleships and six 44-gun frigates. Madison signed the bill into law on January 2, 1813. The support of antiwar but pro-navy Federalists was critical to its passage. A majority of Republicans in the House voted against the bill; it only passed because of Federalist support. Nonetheless, it represented a sea change in the president’s—and the country’s—commitment to a permanent navy. Six more sloops of war were authorized on March 3.

  In due course, work was started on three ships of the line: the Franklin at Philadelphia, the Washington at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and the Independence at the Boston Navy Yard in Charlestown, Massachusetts. Three frigates were begun in 1813: the Columbia at Washington, the Guerriere at Philadelphia, and the Java at Baltimore. Naming new warships after those defeated in battle was a British practice that the American navy copied. Because of wartime shortages, none of the ships were finished before the conflict ended. The nearly completed Columbia would eventually be burned to prevent her from falling into British hands.

  Some of the Republicans who voted for a large increase in the navy did so only as a wartime necessity. They intended to cut the service drastically after the war, just as Congress did following the Quasi-War with France and the war with Tripoli. Jefferson, who had always opposed building both seventy-fours and frigates, told Monroe that, “Frigates and seventy-fours are a sacrifice we must make, heavy as it is, to the prejudices of a part of our citizens.”

  For a solid bloc of Republicans, however, including the president and all of the Federalists, deciding to build a strong navy was a decision to fashion a new defense policy for the United States. They wanted a fleet large enough to be a factor in the thinking of any European country, particularly Britain. They were determined to never again allow the United States to be defenseless on the high seas, dependent on the goodwill of the great powers, who still coveted American territory and had only ill will for the country’s republican government. Thus the navy, despite some continuing Republican skepticism, found a permanent place in America’s strategic th
inking. For the first time in the young republic’s history, the navy’s existence was no longer in doubt. As time went by, most Republicans eventually accepted the idea that a strong navy was not a threat to the Constitution but an indispensable tool in protecting it, as, indeed, Washington and John Adams had always maintained. Even Albert Gallatin now believed the country needed a powerful navy.

  The commitment to a stronger, permanent navy presaged a change of command at the Navy Department. Despite the stunning victories, political support for Secretary Hamilton had disappeared. He had long been criticized for his ineptitude. Rumors that he drank excessively and that little got done at the department after lunch were widespread. And, indeed, the secretary did imbibe too much too often, but the rumors were exaggerated. His major failings were a lack of administrative skill and an inability to form a strategic vision for the fleet. In addition, Hamilton suffered—as anyone would have—from having to serve under a chief executive who, for much of his tenure, thought and acted as though the navy were inconsequential. In fact, before the Constitution’s victory over the Guerriere, Madison showed less interest in the navy than any previous president, including Jefferson. No secretary of the navy, however able, could have performed well under such a chief. Now, with Madison having become a supporter of a strong navy, a new secretary had a chance to get the most out of the department.

  Hamilton finally resigned, much against his will, on December 31, and Madison asked fifty-two-year-old William Jones of Philadelphia to replace him. Jones had strong credentials. He had fought as a youngster during the American Revolution at the battles of Trenton and Princeton, and later as a privateer under famed Captain Thomas Truxtun. After the war, Jones became a successful sea captain engaged in coastal trading from Charleston to Philadelphia and then a prominent Philadelphia merchant and banker. He had been a Republican congressman at the start of the Jefferson administration, and Jefferson had asked him to become secretary of the navy, but Jones turned him down. When Madison sought him out for the post, however, Jones felt that he could not decline again, since he had been a vocal advocate of the war.

  Jones quickly proved himself to be a competent, energetic secretary. He did not have the gracious manners of Hamilton, or of Benjamin Stoddert, the first secretary of the navy, or of Robert Smith, the second secretary. But he was an able administrator and an experienced seaman who knew ships and the sea and had a clear idea of strategy and tactics. He was also a tireless worker, as he showed on January 23, 1813, the day he arrived in Washington. After a long, cold trip from Philadelphia, he rode into town at three o’clock in the afternoon, and instead of resting, immediately called on the president. After a long conversation with him, he went directly to the home of Secretary Gallatin for a lengthy meeting.

  The following morning, Jones was hard at work at the department. One of his first acts was to hire Benjamin Homans as chief clerk, replacing Charles Goldsborough, the wealthy, articulate Marylander who had been in the department since its inception. Goldsborough began his service as confidential secretary to Benjamin Stoddert and then became chief clerk. Unfortunately, he had recently become involved in a nasty public dispute with a gunpowder manufacturer, Dr. Thomas Ewell, and the president wanted him replaced. Monroe pressured Jones to hire Homans, a well-connected Massachusetts man. Jones relented, but he never worked well with Homans; he relied instead on Edward W. Du Val, a former lawyer. Commenting on the place of Homans at the department, Samuel Hambleton wrote, “The first mate does not know much of what passes in the cabin.”

  Jones did not waste any time indicating his strong support for building the freshwater fleet. On January 27 he wrote to Commodore Chauncey, “It is impossible to attach too much importance to our naval operations on the lakes—the success of the ensuing campaign will depend absolutely upon our superiority on all the lakes—and every effort and resource must be directed to that object.... Whatever force the enemy may create, we must surpass.” Giving priority to Chauncey and Macdonough included the politically unpopular decision to move men and supplies away from defending seaports and rushing them to the lakes.

  On February 22 Jones outlined his strategic priorities for the blue-water fleet. He told the navy’s leadership “to expect a very considerable augmentation of the naval force of the enemy on our coast [in] the . . . spring; . . . his policy will be to blockade our ships of war in our own harbors; intercepting our private cruisers, prizes, and trade, and harass the seaboard. Our great inferiority in naval strength, does not permit us to meet them on this ground without hazarding the precious germ of our national glory.” Therefore, Jones wrote, the navy needed to create “a powerful diversion” by attacking British merchantmen in places like the West Indies, where their warships, although present, were not patrolling in overwhelming numbers. Jones’s priority thus was commerce raiding. He told the captains that his intention was “to dispatch all our public ships, now in port, as soon as possible, in such positions as may be best adapted to destroy the commerce of the enemy.” The secretary did not want to waste precious resources fighting spectacular individual ship battles; he stressed that the destruction of Britain’s trade, not personal glory, should be the objective of every captain.

  Jones thought sloops of war were better commerce raiders than frigates or battleships. They were faster, took less time to build, were much cheaper, and required smaller crews. Sloops could also beat the blockade more easily, and they could elude bigger warships in the open ocean. He supported building larger warships for the long term, but for an immediate impact he favored sloops of war. By the same token, Jones, the old privateer, had a high appreciation of the devastating effects a big privateer fleet could have on British commerce. He saw the navy and the privateers working in harness toward the same objective, not as competitors for men and supplies.

  MADISON NEEDED NEW leadership for the army as much or more than for the navy. For weeks, supporters of the war had been calling for Secretary Eustis’s resignation, and as defeat followed defeat, these calls grew deafening. As soon as Madison’s reelection was official on December 3, Secretary Eustis resigned, and Monroe became acting secretary until Madison could choose a successor. The president considered appointing Monroe, who initially wanted to be either secretary of war or the commander of the army with the rank of lieutenant general—George Washington’s title. Monroe undoubtedly thought a great military victory would open a clear path to the presidency, but when he realized that budget constraints would not allow him to raise the army he wanted, he decided to remain at the State Department. The president then, unaccountably, asked his friend General Dearborn and then Senator William Crawford, both of whom turned him down. Madison next considered two New Yorkers, Governor Tompkins and fifty-four-year-old Brigadier General John Armstrong. Removing Tompkins from the governorship of New York might have meant allowing Dewitt Clinton to obtain that sensitive position, so the president ultimately turned to Armstrong, the former ambassador to France who was now in charge of defending New York City. On January 8 Armstrong’s name went to the Senate for confirmation.

  The appointment was controversial. Among Armstrong’s enemies was another former ambassador to France, James Monroe, who had a number of reservations. He distrusted Armstrong; the general had a reputation as an intriguer that went back to his close association with General Horatio Gates during and after the Revolutionary War. Armstrong’s intrigues were so clumsy, and so fraught with peril for the Republic, they brought a resounding rebuke from General Washington. In 1783, when Armstrong was twenty-four years old, he wrote the infamous “Newburgh Addresses,” urging army officers to be far more strident in their demands on Congress for back pay and, in fact, threatening a military coup. At the time, he was an aide to the ever-ambitious General Gates, Washington’s persistent critic. At a tense meeting of officers on March 15, 1783, Washington, who still commanded the loyalty and affection of the army—apart from the Gates cabal—condemned the addresses as “unmilitary” and “subversive.” Historian Thom
as Fleming wrote that thanks to Washington, “the most perilous moment in the brief history of the United States of America ended peacefully.”

  Monroe felt that Armstrong had no loyalty to the president and would use his office to promote his own political ambitions. He believed Armstrong wanted to break Virginia’s grip on the presidency by assuming the office himself. He thought Armstrong would blur the boundary between the secretary and his field commanders, and try to run the army in the field as well as in Washington for the purpose of acquiring enough military glory to propel him into the White House.

  Others beside Monroe opposed Armstrong. The vote to confirm him was unusually close—18 for and 15 against, with Virginia’s two senators not voting. It was an inauspicious beginning.

  Like Jones, Armstrong went right to work the minute he arrived in Washington on February 4, 1813. Regardless of questions about his character, the new appointment seemed to portend better results from the War Department. But as time passed it would become painfully evident that Armstrong’s reputation for duplicity was well deserved, and his abilities as a military leader greatly exaggerated.

  BOTH ARMSTRONG AND Jones were constrained by the unwillingness of Congress to pay for the war through taxation. Internal taxes had been eliminated during the Jefferson administration, which left the Treasury dependent on tariffs for almost all its revenue. Since Britain was America’s lead trading partner, wartime prohibitions drastically reduced the government’s revenue. Loans were the only alternative, but Congress, under the influence of state-chartered banks, made securing them difficult by abolishing the United States Bank in 1811. A combination of Federalists and Republicans, by a single vote, declined to renew the bank’s charter. Vice President George Clinton cast the deciding vote against, even though President Madison supported it. Congressmen who voted for the war but refused to provide for its funding hoped, like the president, that it would be of short duration, perhaps only a few months. When that proved not to be the case, Congress still refused to finance the war properly by enacting substantial internal taxes.