In May, Jackson became a regular Army major general commanding the 7th Military District, which included Louisiana. His responsibility was to stop Britain’s New Orleans venture, a responsibility he shouldered alone, since time and distance prevented the national government from affording him timely assistance.
Admiral Cochrane, who had gone to Jamaica after his exploits on Chesapeake Bay, planned to capture New Orleans by taking Mobile, marching an army from there to the Mississippi, and then moving downriver to the Crescent City. While a roundabout approach, it was the easiest route, since New Orleans was a hundred miles up the Mississippi, situated amid a maze of bayous, swamps, and flesh-rending reeds. It could be attacked directly, said a British officer, only if troops were “assisted by the aerial flight of the bird of prey, or astride the alligator’s scaly back.” The ministry appointed Sir Edward Pakenham to command the army, but he did not reach Jamaica before the armada departed and General John Keane became acting commander.
Jackson suspected that the British might use an overland route, and when they attacked Fort Bowyer, Mobile’s main defensive work, his alert men repelled them. Three weeks later he counterattacked, capturing Pensacola. His vigilance foreclosed Cochrane’s preferred route and doomed British hopes of recruiting legions of Indians and Spaniards to assist them. Having blocked the land route to the city, Jackson hastened to New Orleans. He was not well, but those who glimpsed his fierce, hawklike eyes sensed that the emaciated exterior belied his inner strength. Jackson ordered the likely approaches to the city guarded, and to defend it he assembled a large amount of artillery and a cosmopolitan force that included sailors, a few marines, several regular regiments, Tennessee and Kentucky militia and volunteers, the Louisiana militia, two brigades of New Orleans free black men, some Choctaw Indians, and Jean Lafitte’s 800 pirates.
“By the Eternal, they shall not sleep on our soil!” thundered Jackson on December 23 when he learned that British troops were only nine miles from the city. They had arrived undetected by coming across Lake Borgne and using an unaccountably unguarded bayou leading inland. The Americans made a night attack on Keane’s position; it became a melee pitting British bayonets against American hatchets and knives. After this First Battle of New Orleans, Jackson withdrew two miles, assuming a defensive position behind the wide but dry Rodriguez Canal. On the right was the Mississippi and on the left a cypress swamp, making enemy flank attacks difficult. In front was a plain dominated by Jackson’s parapet.
Pakenham, who arrived on Christmas Day, probed the American defenses on December 28 and on New Year’s Day—the Second and Third Battles of New Orleans. The Fourth (and main) Battle came on January 8. Although Pakenham probed Jackson’s flanks, sending a West Indian black regiment through the swamp and dispatching another force across the Mississippi to assail the American forces there, his major assault was on the broad plain toward Jackson’s main position. The British general planned to attack at night, but the advance was delayed until morning. It appeared that fortune might shine on the British as fog shrouded the plain, but the fog suddenly lifted and the slaughter began. By eight-thirty the battle was over, with 500 prisoners in American hands and another 1,500 British dead and wounded littering the plain, most of them victims of Jackson’s artillery. American casualties numbered about 70.
Ironically the victory had no influence on the Treaty of Ghent, which had been signed on Christmas Eve, 1814. Efforts at negotiations had begun almost as soon as the war commenced. Allied with England in the war against Napoleon, Russia offered to mediate the dispute. Having bungled the 1812 campaign, the United States accepted Russia’s offer, but England did not. The British, however, suggested direct negotiations and Madison agreed. By the time the negotiators met, England was in no hurry to conclude a peace, believing its 1814 offensives would improve its bargaining position. Still, Britain was not prepared to fight a prolonged war for New World territory or for the benefit of its Indian allies. Not only was England’s population war-weary after two decades of continuous strife but, with the French population seething with discontent and Britain squabbling with its allies, England feared a renewed European war.
After Prevost’s retreat and Cochrane’s repulse at Baltimore, Wellington in essence advised the British government to settle the war. These defeats indicated that England could not project power into North America any more effectively in 1814 than during the Revolution—a fact confirmed by New Orleans. As in that earlier war, both combatants were militarily weak in America, with the United States being just barely strong enough to stave off defeat.
Britain agreed to terms based on the status quo ante bellum. The treaty was a cessation of hostilities that mentioned none of the war’s causes. Of course, with the European war over, British violations of neutral rights ceased and they were no longer an urgent issue. Although the United States did not acquire Canada and annexed only part of Florida, it escaped territorial losses. For the west and south the defeat of Tecumseh’s confederation and the Creeks signified clear-cut gains. Perhaps New England “lost” the war, since its influence in national affairs waned rapidly after 1815. And from a national perspective even a stalemate against Napoleon’s conquerors was no embarrassment. By fighting England a second time and surviving intact, the United States had preserved its independence and gained new respect in the international arena.
In early February 1815, three messages converged on Washington from separate locations. News of Jackson’s victory came from New Orleans, quickly followed by the treaty from Ghent. The two announcements set off national rejoicing, erasing grim memories of earlier defeats. Amidst this euphoria the third communication arrived, borne by a committee from the Hartford Convention. The Federalists’ veiled threat of New England secession tainted the party with treason, and they never recovered from the stigma—a sad end for the party that a quarter-century earlier had laid the foundations for the republic’s future growth.
The nearly simultaneous arrival of the glad tidings from Louisiana and Ghent made it appear as if the United States had defeated Britain again, a myth Americans willingly embraced. New Orleans had a further importance: It enshrined the western hunter-soldiers who had supposedly mowed down England’s veterans (artillery inflicted most of the casualties) and glorified the militia at a time when the militia system was virtually dead. The Treaty of Ghent was also significant in that it marked the end of an epoch in American history. For more than a century, the large wars wracking the Old World had become the New World’s wars as well. But for a century afterward no general conflict afflicted Europe, and the United States avoided the Continent’s numerous smaller wars. Hence the nation turned inward, devoting its energies to domestic development and territorial expansion. America’s armed forces played vital roles in both activities.
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FIVE
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The Armed Forces and National Expansion, 1815–1860
During the War of 1812 the Republican Party converted to Federalist military policy. In the war’s aftermath, amid fervid nationalism and with full Republican support, the armed forces prospered. But by the 1820s the magnified nationalism waned, and the Army and Navy entered an era of neglect. Yet these poorly financed and undermanned forces participated in three significant developments. First, the Industrial Revolution’s technological advances transformed the conduct of war. Second, the postwar decades witnessed the beginnings of military professionalization. Finally, the armed forces aided the nation’s territorial expansion and economic development. The Army explored the wilderness, built transportation networks, guarded settlers, and fought wars against Indians who resisted President Andrew Jackson’s removal policy and against Mexico, which contested America’s claim to a “Manifest Destiny.” The Navy, too, advanced national interests by protecting foreign trade and conducting diplomatic-commercial missions abroad.
Postwar Nationalism and Military Policy
In early 1815, in words that Alexander Hamilton might have written, Pre
sident James Madison told Congress that experience “demonstrates that a certain degree of preparation for war is not only indispensable to avert disasters in the onset, but affords also the best security for the continuance of peace.” The president asked Congress to maintain a defense establishment similar to the one Federalists had long advocated: a strong Navy to protect commerce, fortifications to defend the coast, and a substantial regular Army and a reformed militia to guard the frontiers and repel invaders. Although Congress had no desire to tamper with the militia, it responded favorably to the other items.
In 1816, for the first time, the United States established a peacetime long-range naval building program. Congress voted $1 million annually for eight years to build nine 74-gun ships of the line, twelve 44-gun frigates, and three coastal defense steam batteries—a larger building program than ever before. But by 1820 a movement toward naval retrenchment, spurred by the Panic of 1819, was underway, and in 1821 Congress cut the appropriation in half, although it extended this reduced annual outlay for three years beyond the original 1824 termination date. In 1827 and in 1833 Congress continued the $500,000 expenditure for six more years. Slowly, most of the ships authorized in 1816 were completed, but the Navy Department took many of them out of active service (“laid them up in ordinary,” in the terminology of the time) and depended to a great extent on smaller warships periodically authorized by Congress.
The reliance on small ships was not ill-founded. The Navy’s primary responsibility was to protect America’s expanding commerce. No great nation threatened this trade, but pirates and irregular privateers employing small, fast ships did. Trying to catch these buccaneers with ships of the line and frigates was futile. Thus instead of forming a battlefleet, the Navy Department divided its ships into squadrons that sailed in geographic areas called stations. A squadron normally consisted of one or two frigates or ships of the line and a larger number of smaller but swifter vessels. The first squadron established was in the Mediterranean, where in 1812 Algiers had renewed its depredations. Shortly after Congress ratified the Treaty of Ghent, it declared war on Algiers. After the Navy had subdued the petty state, a squadron remained on station in the Mediterranean, and the department periodically established other squadrons in trouble spots around the globe. By 1843 six squadrons existed.7
Between 1815 and 1842 a Board of Navy Commissioners helped the secretary of the navy administer the squadrons. Since the Navy Department’s founding, a civilian secretary, aided by a few clerks, had directed all naval activities. Some experts had urged formation of a professional board to help the secretary, and the War of 1812 demonstrated the navy’s poor administration. Consisting of three captains, the board had authority in such specialized duties as the procurement of naval stores and materials, and the building, repairing, and equipping of ships. The board provided the secretary with technical assistance without impinging on civilian control, since the secretary retained control of policy.
The board had two defects. Its collective nature was, as one secretary said, “extremely unfavorable to that individual responsibility, which it is so necessary to impose upon every public officer.” The board was also extremely conservative and opposed maritime technological innovations. Aware of these problems, Congress abolished the board in 1842, replacing it with five bureaus: Yards and Docks; Construction, Equipment, and Repair; Medicine and Surgery; Provisions and Clothing; and Ordnance and Hydrography. The bureaus inaugurated an era of specialized management, with each bureau chief acting independently and reporting to the secretary. Congress also established a Corps of Engineers to service the Navy’s few steam warships, thereby acknowledging the growing importance of the new motive power, which the Board of Navy Commissioners had been slow to accept.
The bureaus and the Corps of Engineers, while reformist in intent, created problems that bedeviled the Navy for decades. The bureaus carried individual responsibility too far. Without any compulsion to cooperate, they rarely coordinated their activities, resulting in fragmented management. Conflict arose between line and staff officers. Line officers viewed staff officers, such as paymasters, surgeons, and engineers, as socially and professionally inferior and not entitled to equal rank and the privileges and esteem that went with it. Staff officers disliked the line officers’ assumed superiority. Engineers, for example, designed, directed the manufacture of, installed, and operated steam machinery on warships. These were taxing and dangerous tasks, and the men who performed them demanded equal rank and pay.
The Republicans were as favorably inclined toward coastal fortifications—few could forget Fort McHenry—as they were toward the Navy. The new ships would be the nation’s sword, new fortifications its shield. During war scares in 1794 and 1807 the country began fortifications systems, but most of the structures rapidly decayed. In 1816 Congress appropriated more than $800,000 for a fortifications program. Begun after the crisis had passed, the new system, like the new Navy, was to proceed methodically during peacetime and be permanent. Madison appointed a Board of Engineers for Fortifications to deal with seacoast defense. Its first report (February 1821), combined with a supplemental report five years later, outlined a theory of defense that remained in vogue until the 1880s. The board declared that the first line of defense was the Navy, but since it was likely to remain small, it must be supported by seacoast fortifications, an interior communications network, a regular Army, and a well-organized militia. The 1821 report suggested 50 sites for defensive works, and by 1850 the board had recommended nearly 150 more. Long before then, however, congressional enthusiasm for the program had diminished, and the gap between fortifications projected and those completed became a chasm.
The Army also benefited from the postwar nationalism. Not only was its peacetime strength increased, but the army’s bureaucracy underwent an important reorganization. In March 1815 Congress established an Army of 12,000, dwarfing any army the United States had maintained except in wartime or acute crisis. Bureaucratic reforms consisted of the creation of a General Staff and the position of commanding general of the Army. The United States had been no better prepared for war in 1812 than it had been in 1775, and the Revolution’s logistical deficiencies had soon reappeared. Part of the problem stemmed from Republican unwillingness to use the taxing power, but much of the difficulty lay within the War Department, which had developed no support service administrative machinery. An overburdened secretary, aided by a handful of clerks, usually acted as quartermaster general and commissary general, along with all his other duties. At best the department exercised loose supervision over logistical matters, and what services existed were small and decentralized. The casual administration of logistics, troubling in peace, was intolerable in war. In 1812 Congress revived several staff offices that had sporadically existed since the Revolution, such as a quartermaster general and a commissary general of purchases. However, confusion reigned due to overlapping responsibilities. In 1813 the legislature tried to bring order from chaos by creating a General Staff, which was a group of autonomous bureau chiefs, such as an adjutant and inspector general and quartermaster general, with each chief reporting to the secretary of war.8
The General Staff was unable to improve logistical support appreciably during the conflict. But two postwar secretaries—William H. Crawford (1815–1816) and John C. Calhoun (1817–1825)—realized that a peacetime staff organization was essential preparation for war. Two acts, one in 1816 and the other in 1818, expanded and improved the staff and ensured the staff’s permanence; it remained essentially intact until the twentieth century.
Operational command had been as dismal as logistical support throughout the War of 1812. No single officer commanded the entire Army. The War Department divided the Army into districts and departments, with each commander acting independently, coordinated only by the secretary of war. A commanding officer such as Andrew Jackson often failed to cooperate with other commanders and invariably resented the secretary’s “interference” in military matters. In 1821, when
Congress reduced the Army’s high command to one major general and two brigadier generals, Calhoun seized the opportunity to create a centralized command system, which might prevent the emergence of a Jacksonian-style warlord in any future war. He ordered the sole major general, Jacob Brown, to Washington and designated him the commanding general.
Most officials considered the Army’s new institutions important reforms. In theory the War Department now had a balanced organization. For technical advice the secretary called on the General Staff, while he directed military operations through the commanding general. In practice three problems arose. First, the commanding general’s responsibilities were unclear. Could he really command the Army? If he did, he would usurp the secretary of war’s constitutional duty as the president’s appointed deputy; but if he did not, his position was meaningless. A strained relationship between the commanding general and the secretary resulted. Second, a line-staff rivalry developed. Line officers wanted preferential treatment because they believed they endured privation while staff officers lived a soft life. Line officers also insisted on the right to command staff personnel in their district, but bureau chiefs asserted that staff officers in the field were responsible only to their superiors in Washington. Finally, Army bureau chiefs did not cooperate among themselves, and even the secretary was often unable to control them. Secretaries rarely stayed in office more than a few years, so power gravitated to the bureau chiefs, who held commissions for life. Chiefs became consummate bureaucrats and extremely knowledgeable about their specialized functions, but they often confused their own bureau’s well-being with the Army’s welfare.
For the Common Defense Page 17
