Not only did Congress approve a strong defense, but it also enacted the financial reforms to fund it, raising taxes and establishing a national bank. In doing so, it was enacting the program begun by Alexander Hamilton, George Washington, and John Adams and rejected by Jefferson when he took office in 1801. America had now come full circle; the war had crystallized political opinion in favor of a strong national defense as the best guarantee against more wars. The notion that a disarmed country could protect itself against imperialist Europe by using “peaceful coercion” and diplomacy was forever rejected.
THE NEWFOUND STRENGTH of the United States was put on display immediately after the treaty with Britain was ratified. On February 23, while the country was celebrating peace, Madison asked Congress to declare war on Algeria. The president wrote that the Dey of Algiers had been in “open and direct warfare” against the United States since 1812, and it was time to put a stop to his depredations. On March 3, after lopsided votes of approval in both the House and the Senate, Madison signed the declaration of war.
Spearheaded by the new secretary of the navy, Benjamin W. Crowninshield, and with an efficiency unknown during the war, the government prepared enough naval power to force Algeria to mend her ways. Madison was determined to use overwhelming force to bring about a quick settlement. He was doing the exact opposite of what Jefferson did in 1801, when he was confronted with a similar problem. Jefferson’s war against the Barbary pirates dragged on for four years, from 1801 to 1805, because he would not apply sufficient force until the very end. Madison was not going to repeat that mistake. The American navy was now the strongest it had ever been, and he intended to use it.
The president decided to dispatch two powerful squadrons to the Mediterranean—and three if necessary. He appointed Decatur to lead the first and Bainbridge the second. At the moment, Decatur was occupied with a court of inquiry on the loss of the President, but that did not deter Madison, who assumed Decatur would be exonerated—and he was.
Bainbridge was senior to Decatur, and normally the president would have given the lead to him, but Madison much preferred Decatur and gave him the coveted assignment. Bainbridge was miffed, of course—not surprising to either Madison or Crowninshield—but that did not matter. Decatur would lead the way with the first squadron, and Bainbridge would follow with the second. When Bainbridge reached the Mediterranean, he would become overall commander, so Decatur rushed to get there first. In fact, he refused to serve under Bainbridge. Madison allowed Decatur the option of returning to the United States when Bainbridge arrived. The arrangement was, to say the least, extraordinary. Madison must have felt that Decatur needed special treatment after the loss of the President. It was also clear that the president wasn’t enamored with Bainbridge.
Decatur received his orders on March 27 and went full speed ahead. By the third week in April his squadron was waiting off Staten Island ready to sail. It included his flagship, the new 44-gun Guerriere, with Master Commandant William Lewis as flag captain; the 38-gun Macedonian, under Captain Jacob Jones; the 38-gun Constellation, under Captain Charles Gordon; the 22-gun sloop of war Ontario, under Master Commandant Jesse Elliott; the 18-gun brig Epervier (captured by the Peacock) under Lieutenant John Downes, who unaccountably had not yet been promoted to master commandant; the 14-gun brig Firefly, under Lieutenant George W. Rodgers (the commodore’s nephew); the 12-gun brig Flambeau , under Lieutenant J. B. Nicolson; the12-gun brig Spark, a former privateer, under Lieutenant Thomas Gamble (brother of Peter Gamble, who died at the Battle of Plattsburgh); the 11-gun schooner Spitfire, under Lieutenant A. J. Dallas; and the 10-gun schooner Torch, under Lieutenant Wolcott Chauncey. By any standard it was a strong squadron with outstanding leaders. In fact, it was the most powerful ever assembled under the American flag.
On April 29, Decatur, straining to get going, was put on hold. Word reached Washington that on February 26 Napoleon had slipped away from Elba with 1,100 troops and on March 1 landed at Golfe Juan near Cannes on the Riviera. Not unexpectedly, the French army rallied to him. With no support among the people, Louis XVIII secretly fled Paris on March 20 at two o’clock in the morning. Later that day, Bonaparte entered the capital. Wellington was in Vienna at the time, and the allies unanimously agreed not to recognize Napoleon. They vowed to get rid of him. With the advent of a new war, the same old maritime problems that had bedeviled British-American relations in the past could well rise again.
Nonetheless, after receiving assurances from the Liverpool ministry, Madison allowed Decatur to proceed. He stood out from New York on May 20 and shaped a course for Cadiz and Gibraltar. The squadron had just reached the outer edge of the Gulf Stream off the Atlantic coast when a severe three-day tempest struck and scattered the ships, damaging the Firefly so much that she had to return to New York for repairs. When the storm abated, Decatur gathered up the rest of his fleet and continued on to Cadiz, reaching it in three weeks. After taking on supplies there, he headed for Tangier in Morocco. The American consul told him that two days before, Admiral Rais, head of the Algerian navy, stopped in Tangier with his big 46-gun flagship, the Mashuda. The news whetted Decatur’s appetite.
The American fleet pushed on to Gibraltar, with the commodore wondering how the British were going to treat him now that Napoleon was back in power. Despite Decatur’s apprehension, he was received cordially. At Madison’s request, the ministry agreed to allow American warships into British ports while engaged in the war with Algeria. Liverpool’s policy was not to antagonize the United States. Bathurst sent orders that the American navy was to be accorded “all the privileges to which the vessels of a nation in amity with this country are entitled.” Decatur was allowed to refit and resupply. Of course, the British officers who saw the name of his flagship Guerriere, and the names of his other ships like Macedonian and Epervier, were none too pleased.
Decatur did not remain long at Gibraltar. When he learned that Hammida and the Mashuda were off nearby Cape de Gatt, waiting to receive tribute from Spain, he raced out of port, and on June 17 he found the Mashuda. Hammida tried to get into Cartagena—a neutral port—but the American squadron blocked his way. Decatur brought the Guerriere close alongside the Algerian and unleashed two punishing broadsides, frightening the Algerian crew, who ran below. When he saw them disappearing, he ordered a cease-fire.
The lull allowed Decatur to deal with a terrible accident that had occurred when the Guerriere fired her first broadside. One of her double-shotted main deck guns burst, killing five men and badly wounding thirty others. Decatur blamed the tragedy on the lack of adequate inspection for new guns. His two broadsides appeared to have beaten the Algerians, however. Hammida had been killed, and his crew looked as if they were surrendering. They may have been initially, but they now tried to make a run for it. Lieutenant Downes in the Epervier alertly got on their starboard quarter, however, and unleashed nine broadsides, forcing them to surrender.
Decatur sent the Mashuda into Cartagena with a prize crew and 406 prisoners. Two days later, he captured another Algerian, the 22-gun brig Estedio, and also sent her into Cartagena. He then sailed for Algiers, arriving on June 28. Negotiations soon began on board the Guerriere. One of her passengers, William Shaler, the prospective American consul general at Algiers who had been appointed as a joint commissioner with Decatur and Bainbridge, carried on one-sided talks with the Algerians, who had a high appreciation of the power of the American squadron anchored in their harbor. Shaler and Decatur had no trouble dictating a peace. Within twenty-four hours the dey agreed to terms, which included the end of tribute, which had been paid by the United States since the treaty of 1796; the release of ten American prisoners; and the return to the dey of the two captured Algerine ships. Decatur wrote to Crowninshield that the treaty had “been dictated at the mouth of the cannon, has been conceded to the losses which Algiers has sustained, and to the dread of still greater evils apprehended; and I beg leave to express to you my opinion that the presence of a respectable naval for
ce in this sea will be the only certain guarantee for its observance.”
Wasting no time, Decatur prepared the treaty and dispatches and sent them to Washington in the Epervier, along with the ten freed prisoners. Before she left, he changed her officers, putting Lieutenant John Shubrick, first of the Guerriere , in command and transferring Lieutenant Downes to the Guerriere, making him the new flag captain. Downes was replacing William Lewis, who was returning to the United States. Decatur made these odd changes as a favor to Lewis, so that he could go home and be with his new wife. Lieutenant Neale was also permitted the same indulgence; he had married the sister of Lewis’s wife. Sadly, the Epervier never made it back. She went down with all hands in a hurricane.
Scurvy had now begun to appear in the squadron, and Decatur stopped it by sailing to Cagliari on the southern coast of Sardinia for ten days of rest and recuperation. Afterward, he traveled to Tunis to settle matters with the bey, arriving in Tunis Bay on July 25, with a six-ship squadron—the Guerriere, Macedonian , Constellation, Ontario, Flambeau, and Spitfire. The bey had violated Tunis’s treaty with the United States by allowing the British brig Lyra during the recent war to take two prizes belonging to the American privateer Abellino out of the Bay of Tunis to Malta and for allowing local merchants to obtain the contents of those ships much below their real value. Decatur demanded and immediately received 46,000 Spanish dollars in compensation for the two prizes. Seeing the power of Decatur’s squadron, the bey decided not to fight, although he had a fleet and his capital was well protected.
Decatur sailed next to Tripoli on August 2 to make a similar impression on its ruler, arriving in the harbor on August 5. The bashaw had allowed a British warship, the Pauline, to seize two more prizes of the Albellino, in violation of Tripoli’s neutrality, and take them to Malta, thus breaking the existing treaty with the United States. Decatur demanded 30,000 Spanish dollars. He and the bashaw finally settled on 25,000 and the release of ten Christian slaves. Two were Danes and eight Sicilians.
Again wasting no time, Decatur left Tripoli on August 9 and stopped in Messina to release eight prisoners and then sailed for the Bay of Naples, arriving on September 8, where he was greeted warmly and thanked by the foreign minister and the king of the two Sicilies for obtaining the release of the prisoners. By this time Decatur had accomplished everything Madison wanted and then some, and he prepared to go home. He sent his squadron on ahead to rendezvous with Bainbridge at either the Spanish port of Malaga or Gibraltar. He then stood out alone from Naples on September 13 in the Guerriere and shaped a course for Gibraltar, expecting to meet Bainbridge.
On the way he spotted the Algerian fleet—seven warships: four frigates, and three sloops—sailing toward him. He cleared for action. But he warned the crew that the menacing ships ahead would have to fire first; America was now at peace with Algeria. If the Algerians fired, however, Decatur meant to take the lot of them. Tension lessened considerably aboard the Guerriere when the Algerians ran to the leeward side of the frigate, indicating they were not interested in a fight. For amusement, the Algerian admiral shouted to Decatur through a speaking trumpet, asking in Italian where he was going, and Decatur shouted back, “Where I please.” The Algerians sailed on, and Decatur maintained his course for Gibraltar.
MEANWHILE, COMMODORE BAINBRIDGE, full of ambition, stood out from Boston on July 2 and arrived off Cartagena on August 5, traveling in the brandnew 74-gun Independence, the first ship of its size to sail under the American flag. The sloop of war Erie, the brig Chippewa, and the schooner Lynx made up the rest of Bainbridge’s squadron. The Spark and Torch from Decatur’s fleet were in port, and they informed Bainbridge of Decatur’s success against Algiers. None too pleased, Bainbridge changed his plans and decided to visit Tunis and Tripoli, only touching at Algiers on the way. He sailed from Cartagena on September 13 and visited Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli, exhibiting his powerful squadron, reinforcing the impression Decatur had made on the dey, bey, and bashaw. Bainbridge was sorely disappointed that Decatur had settled with all three states before he arrived, but the American consuls assured him that his appearance so soon after Decatur would have a lasting salutary effect on the rulers. Bainbridge wasn’t appeased.
Figure 33.1: Michele Felice Cornè, Triumphant Return of the American Squadron under Commodore Bainbridge from the Mediterranean, 1815 (courtesy of Naval Historical Center).
He set sail for Malaga, where the United States, Enterprise, Boxer, Firefly, and Saranac joined him. They had just arrived from the United States. Madison was making sure he had enough force in the Mediterranean to accomplish his goals. Secretary Crowninshield was even getting a third squadron ready to sail under Isaac Chauncey if good news did not come from either Decatur or Bainbridge.
In a few days Bainbridge sailed his entire fleet the short distance to Gibraltar to await Decatur’s arrival. On October 3, Decatur’s squadron arrived, except for the Guerriere and Decatur himself. Bainbridge had no way of knowing when Decatur would appear, so he made preparations to leave for the United States. On orders from Secretary Crowninshield, Bainbridge left a few ships in the Mediterranean to protect American interests. Captain John Shaw was in command of the new squadron with the United States, the Constellation, the Ontario, and the Erie. Bainbridge wrote to Shaw, “The object of leaving this force is to watch the conduct of the Barbary powers, particularly . . . Algiers.” The United States has had a naval presence in the Mediterranean ever since.
Bainbridge stood out from Gibraltar on October 6, and as he was leaving the harbor, the Guerriere hove into view and saluted the Independence. Bainbridge returned the salute but kept right on going, apparently wishing to avoid meeting Decatur face-to-face. Not understanding what was going on, Decatur jumped into his gig and chased the Independence, caught her, and climbed aboard for a talk. He knew something was wrong when the Independence did not even slow down so that he could board, but he wasn’t quite prepared for the icily formal reception he got from Bainbridge, who apparently blamed Decatur personally for robbing him of his chance for glory. The meeting was short and awkward and irritated Decatur no end. There was nothing he could do about it, however. He returned to his frigate and sailed home alone, reaching New York on November 12 to receive a hero’s welcome, as he deserved.
Decatur’s success underscored the need for a strong navy and helped build support in the country for a long-term commitment to bear the burden of a respectable defense force, all of which Madison hoped the Mediterranean mission would accomplish, beside ridding him of the Barbary pirate nuisance.
By moving a divided nation to agree that a strong navy and army would protect rather than undermine the Constitution, the horrific burdens of those who fought the war could ultimately be justified. And this new consensus on defense policy would in turn lay the foundation for a profound change in Anglo-American relations, further justifying the great sacrifices of the young soldiers and sailors.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
From Temporary Armistice to Lasting Peace: The Importance of the War
AMERICANS WERE QUICK to forget the gross failures of their leaders during the war and the horror people felt in the fall of 1814, when it looked as if the fighting would continue. The country concentrated only on its successes. The amnesia served America well, as her people looked confidently to the future. A major component of this new confidence was the remarkable, totally unexpected political unity that arose immediately after the peace. Albert Gallatin wrote, “The war has renewed and reinstated the national feelings and character which the Revolution had given, and which were daily lessening. The people now have more general objects of attachment, with which their pride and political opinions are connected. They are more Americans; they feel and act more as a nation; and I hope that the permanency of the Union is thereby better secured.”
America’s newfound unity and her commitment to a strong military forced Europe to take her more seriously. Before the war, the United States was a big, prosperous country without mi
litary capacity. Now she was an incipient power that Britain and the other European imperialists could no longer treat lightly, as they had in the past. The Liverpool ministry’s cynical perpetuation of the war to expand British territory and dismember a rival had unintentionally amplified America’s maritime power. Instead of curbing a competitor, the British had markedly increased her strength.
As Castlereagh and his colleagues considered Britain’s North American policy going forward, the central question was whether to concede the growing power of the United States and reach an accommodation with her or to treat her as a rival and potential enemy, contesting her expansion and inviting conflict at every turn. The combination of a strong army and navy, sound fiscal underpinnings, and political unity in America led the foreign minister to adopt a policy of accommodation rather than confrontation. Liverpool endorsed the new approach, initiating a fundamental change in British policy that became the most important outcome of the War of 1812. It more than compensated for all the horrors borne by ordinary people in America, Canada, and Great Britain.
The reactionary Castlereagh had no love for the American republic; he was simply recognizing that given the new strength of the United States, it was in British interests to prevent their inevitable disagreements from turning lethal. He did all he could to remove barriers to cooperation and promote the peaceful settlement of disputes. And he brought Liverpool and the rest of the cabinet along with him. The British historian Charles K. Webster wrote that Castlereagh “was the first British statesman to recognize that the friendship of the United States was a major asset . . . , and to use in his relations with her a language that was neither superior nor intimidating.” An augury of things to come had been the Duke of Wellington (the new British ambassador in Paris) taking the unprecedented step of calling on American ambassador Crawford and congratulating him on the treaty of peace.
1812: The Navy's War Page 53
