The Little Belt Affair (1811)
After the adoption of the non-importation law, Anglo-American relations continued to deteriorate. The American minister to Great Britain returned to the United States in early 1811, leaving only a charge d’affaires in his place. The following June the newly appointed British minister, Augustus J. Foster, arrived in Washington with a fresh set of demands. Foster threatened retaliation if non-importation were continued. He also declared that Britain would not lift the Orders-in-Council until France had suspended her decrees for all neutral nations (and not just the United States) and had dropped her tariff and export restrictions as well. In short, the Orders would remain in force until British goods were freely admitted to the Continent.89
Two other developments contributed to the deterioration of Anglo-American relations in 1811. The first was the Little Belt incident, a kind of Chesapeake affair in reverse. In the hope of deterring impressments, the Navy Department had ordered the heavy frigate President (54 guns) to cruise off the American coast. On May 16 the President clashed with the much smaller Little Belt (20 guns), killing nine of her crew and wounding twenty-three others. The fight took place at night, and it was never clear who fired first. Most Americans saw the engagement as just retribution for the Chesapeake affair and celebrated accordingly. The British, on the other hand, were convinced that the President was guilty of unprovoked aggression, and some newspapers demanded retaliation.90 “The blood of our murdered countrymen must be revenged,” declared the London Courier. “The conduct of America leaves us no alternative.”91 The British government, however, chose not to make an issue of the affair.
The Battle of Tippecanoe (1811)
The other development that contributed to Anglo-American discord in 1811 was the outbreak of an Indian war in the Old Northwest. Since the Jay Treaty, British officials had walked a fine line with their native allies, whom they called “Nitchies” (a corruption of the Ojibway/Chippewa word “Niigii,” which means “friend” or “comrade”).92 Although seeking to restrain the Indians, the British supplied their needs to retain their loyalty in case of war with the United States. But this subtlety was lost on Americans. Ever since Pontiac’s Rebellion in 1763, the Northwest Territory had periodically erupted in flames, and because the Indians were tied economically and diplomatically to the British, most Americans blamed them for the uprisings. “We have had but one opinion as the cause of the depredations of the Indians,” said Niles’ Register; “they are instigated and supported by the British in Canada.”93
The threat of an uprising steadily mounted after 1805, when a Shawnee spiritual leader, Tenskwatawa (better known as the Prophet), launched a religious movement that called for rejecting of the white man’s ways. At the same time, William Henry Harrison, the governor of the Indiana Territory, imposed a series of ever more outrageous land cession treaties on the Indians, culminating in the three treaties of Fort Wayne in 1809.94 This prompted Tecumseh, who was the Prophet’s brother, to transform the religious movement into a military alliance to resist further land cessions.95 Besides forging closer bonds with the British, the two Shawnee leaders established a camp at Prophetstown on the Wabash River just below the mouth of the Tippecanoe River in present-day Indiana and from there spread their message of resistance throughout the West. The movement became increasingly militant in tone, and a new round of Indian depredations erupted in 1810.96
Responding to the growing depredations, Harrison was determined to crush the Indian conspiracy. “If some decisive measures are not speedily adopted,” he told the secretary of war, “we shall have a general combination of all the tribes against us.”97 The administration was reluctant to provoke an Indian war but finally succumbed to Harrison’s pleas for troops. By the fall of 1811 Harrison had assembled an army of 1,000 regulars and volunteer militia. His plan was to march to Prophetstown and demand that the Prophet give up those responsible for the recent depredations. (Harrison knew he would not have to face Tecumseh, who was on a recruiting mission in the South.)98
Resistance to American expansion in the Old Northwest was spearheaded by two Shawnee brothers, Tenskwatawa, better known as the Prophet (1775–1836), a visionary who built a religious movement to resist assimilation, and Tecumseh (1768?–1813), a commanding leader who transformed his brother’s movement into a military alliance. (Benson J. Lossing, Pictorial Field-Book of the War of 1812)
Harrison’s army reached the vicinity of Prophetstown in early November. In the pre-dawn hours of November 7 some 500 Indians—mostly Kickapoos, Winnebagoes, and Potawatomis—attacked Harrison’s camp. The Indians badly mauled the Americans, who were caught silhouetted against their campfires. But the troops held their positions and eventually turned the tide. Most of the Indians enjoyed good cover, although some appeared in the open because the Prophet had promised them immunity from American muskets. The Indians were finally driven off by a counterattack on their flank, and the next day Harrison burned Prophetstown, along with the Indians’ food supplies.99
In the Battle of Tippecanoe, Harrison’s army suffered almost 200 casualties, while Indian losses were probably half that number. Harrison could claim victory, but only because the Indians had been driven from the field and their village and food supplies destroyed. The Prophet suffered some loss of face, but his spell was far from broken.100 The battle did little to deter the Indian depredations on the frontier, and the whole region remained unsafe. “Most of the Citizens in this Country,” Harrison conceded in 1812, “have abandoned their farms and taken refuge in Such temporary forts as they have been able to construct.”101
When Governor William Henry Harrison marched to Prophetstown in late 1811, the result was the Battle of Tippecanoe, a close American victory. This marked the beginning of an Indian war in the Old Northwest that blended into the War of 1812 seven months later. (Print by Kurz & Allison. Library of Congress)
The Indian war drove many natives in the region into the British camp. It also intensified American hatred of Britain. The Indians were armed with British weapons, and this only served to reinforce the notion that the British were behind the depredations. Republican newspapers carried accounts of the conflict under headings that read “ANGLO-SAVAGE WAR” or “Anglo-Indian War.”102 “The war on the Wabash is purely BRITISH,” concluded the Lexington Reporter, the leading newspaper in the West. “The SCALPING KNIFE and TOMAHAWK of British savages, is now, again devastating our frontiers.”103
The Drift toward War (1811–1812)
With Anglo-American discord mounting, a growing number of Republicans began to talk of war.104 It was an important, even a momentous step, and yet what was the alternative? The restrictive system had failed, and in the eyes of most Republicans, to do nothing at all in the face of British encroachments was unthinkable. For years Republican foreign policy had been predicated on the necessity of upholding American rights, and many now regarded war as the only way of achieving this end. “Negociation & commercial restrictions failed to obtain redress,” William Plumer of New Hampshire later said; “submission or war were the only remaining alternatives.”105
War appealed to Republicans because it offered the prospect of winning diplomatic concessions from the British, of forcing them to give up the Orders-in-Council and impressment and perhaps modify other maritime practices as well. War was also seen as a way of resolving the nation’s long-standing Indian problem. Although this problem was not as crucial as the maritime issues, it loomed large in the West. “The blood of our fellow-citizens murdered on the Wabash by British intrigue,” said the Lexington Reporter, “calls aloud for vengeance.”106 By conquering Canada, or at least administering a sound drubbing to the British there, the Republicans hoped to destroy British influence over American Indians and thus put an end to the nation’s recurring Indian wars. In other words, war offered the prospect of winning American diplomatic aims in the Northwest as well as on the high seas.
Republicans also saw war as a way of vindicating American independence. As
heirs of the American Revolution, the Republicans were steeped in anglophobia. Extremely sensitive to British slights—as one would expect from citizens of a new nation—they saw British encroachments as part of a larger plot to keep the United States in a kind of quasi-colonial subjugation. Britain’s aim, said Jonathan Roberts of Pennsylvania, was “to make us subserve her interests as a colonial dependency.” “If we submit,” declared John C. Calhoun of South Carolina, “the independence of this nation is lost.”107
War was also seen as a way of shoring up republican institutions. The United States was the only democratic republic in the world, and even though most Americans were confident that they were riding the wave of the future, they were acutely conscious of how fragile republican institutions were. If the administration proved incapable of protecting American rights, the people might turn to some other form of government, and the entire republican experiment might collapse. As the editor of the Washington National Intelligencer put it, “Not only the rights of the nation, but the character of the government are involved in the issue.” “The time is come,” added another Republican, “to humble the overgrown monsters [the British]—and to cause our republic to be respected at home and abroad.”108
Besides upholding independence and preserving republican institutions, war offered the prospect of significant political dividends. A successful war would redound to the Republicans’ advantage, while retreat would have just the opposite effect. “The honor of the Nation and that of the party,” said a Philadelphia newspaper editor, “are bound up together and both will be sacrificed if war be not declared.” “If War is not resorted to,” added a Tennessee Congressman, “this nation or rather their representatives will be disgraced.” “The War machine [must be] put into active motion,” said another Republican; “this deed, & this deed alone can save the character of the Democratic party & of the Nation.”109
War also offered the best means of unifying the Republican party. For years the administration had been under fire from dissident factions within the party. There was mounting resentment, especially in the North, over the domination of the Virginia dynasty. There was also growing frustration over the British and French depredations and the failure of the restrictive system. Many Republicans were critical of the administration for failing to defend the nation’s rights or to prepare the nation for war. With the election of 1812 looming on the horizon, it was imperative for the administration to silence these dissidents and to consolidate its hold on the party. “Only a change in our foreign relations,” said a Virginia Republican, “would enable Mr. Madison to ride triumphant, put down his opponents in Congress, and silence the growlings of those who ought to possess his entire confidence.”110
Besides unifying the Republican party, war offered the prospect of silencing the Federalists. No doubt Republicans found the Federalist claim—which was constantly repeated—that the restrictive system was a futile, double-edged sword all the more galling because it was so near the truth.111 A state of war, most Republicans assumed, would put an end to this criticism, for everyone—including Federalists—would have to rally to the flag. “A declaration of War,” said William Plumer, “must necessarily produce a great change in public opinion & the State of parties—British partisans must then either close their lips in silence or abscond.” “By war,” Elbridge Gerry of Massachusetts told the President, “we should be purified, as by fire.”112
Thus by 1812 many Republicans had concluded that there were compelling diplomatic, ideological, and political reasons for going to war against Britain. If all went well, the Republicans could expect to win concessions from the British, vindicate American independence, preserve republican institutions, maintain power, unify their party, and silence the Federalists. With these prospects before them, many Republicans had come to believe that the rewards of war outweighed its risks.
President Madison was by nature a cautious man, but he shared these views. The nation, he believed, was at a crossroads, with the future of the republic at stake. To submit to British practices, he thought, would be to sacrifice “the neutral guaranty of an Independent flag” and to “recolonize our commerce by subjecting it to a foreign authority.”113 Hence, even though Republican policies had left the nation woefully unprepared to prosecute a major war, the president summoned Congress to an early meeting in November 1811 to consider this very prospect.
Chapter 2
The Declaration of War
The Twelfth Congress—known to history as the War Congress—convened on November 4, 1811. Republicans across the country showed a keen interest in its proceedings. “Never did the American Congress assemble under circumstances of greater interest and responsibility,” said the Boston Chronicle. The deliberations of this body, the Washington National Intelligencer predicted, “will, perhaps, do more to stamp the character of genuine republican governments than has been effected in this respect since the creation of the world.” “The people, the times and the government,” added the Salem Register, “all require DECISION.”1
The War Congress Meets
The Republicans had solid majorities in both houses of the new Congress, controlling 75 percent of the seats in the House and 82 percent in the Senate.2 Yet for years they had been without competent floor leadership and beset by factionalism. “Factions in our own party,” said one Republican, “have hitherto been the bane of the Democratic administration.”3 The regular Republicans, who customarily followed the administration’s lead, could usually muster a majority, but sometimes they were outmaneuvered by their enemies. Their most implacable foes were the Federalists. Led by Josiah Quincy and James Lloyd of Massachusetts and James A. Bayard of Delaware, the Federalists numbered only 25 percent of the House and 18 percent of the Senate, but they normally voted as a bloc and usually opposed the administration.
The Federalists were sometimes joined by dissident Republicans, such as the Old Republicans, the Clintonians, or the “Invisibles.” The Old Republicans were the conscience of the Republican party. Led by the brilliant but eccentric John Randolph of Roanoke, they were a small group of southern agrarians who favored simple government and believed that the administration had embraced too many Federalist policies.4 The Clintonians, on the other hand, thought the government ought to adopt more Federalist policies. Led by George and De Witt Clinton of New York, they were northern Republicans—mainly from commercial areas—who opposed economic restrictions and favored greater protection for trade.5 The “Invisibles” (also known as the Smith faction) were a small band of senators that included Samuel Smith of Maryland, William Branch Giles of Virginia, and Michael Leib of Pennsylvania. They had a reputation for political opportunism, but what actually united them was a common interest in military preparedness and an aversion to Albert Gallatin and his parsimonious Treasury policies.6 Most of the dissidents also disliked the president. “There is much animosity towards Madison,” said a Pennsylvania congressman, “in the Smiths & Gileses & I might say in the Clintons too.”7
The War Congress also contained a new faction, one capable of providing the leadership and firmness that hitherto had been lacking. These were the War Hawks, a group of about a dozen ardent patriots too young to remember the horrors of the last British war and thus willing to run the risks of another to vindicate the nation’s rights.8 Most of them came from the South or West. The group included Henry Clay and Richard M. Johnson of Kentucky; Felix Grundy of Tennessee; Langdon Cheves, William Lowndes, John C. Calhoun, and David R. Williams of South Carolina; George M. Troup of Georgia; Peter B. Porter of New York; and John A. Harper of New Hampshire.9 The War Hawks had the respect not only of other Republicans but of the Federalists, too. “Clay, Cheves, Lowndes, and calhoun,” said a Massachusetts Federalist, “are confessedly the best informed & most liberal men of the party.”10
Clay was the most able and articulate of the War Hawks. Although not yet 35 and never before a member of the House, he was elected speaker and lost no time in establishing his authority.11 When Rand
olph brought his dog into the House, Clay ordered the animal removed—something no previous speaker had dared or cared to do.12 “The new Speaker is quite popular,” commented a Federalist. “He possesses fine talents and presides with dignity.”13 Molding the speakership into a position of power, Clay “reduc’d the chaos to order.”14 By directing debate and interpreting the rules, by packing key committees and acting forcefully behind the scenes, he ensured that the War Hawks dominated the Twelfth Congress and kept the war movement on track.
Preparing for War
The president sent his annual address to Congress on November 5. Although Madison had planned a stronger message, Gallatin—who feared the effects of war—persuaded him to tone down his attack on Britain.15 The only grievance mentioned in the address was the Orders-in-Council. Accusing England of making “war on our lawful commerce,” the president called for war preparations. In view of Britain’s “hostile inflexibility,” he said, “Congress will feel the duty of putting the United States into an armor and an attitude demanded by the crisis.”16
The leading War Hawk in Congress was Henry Clay (1777–1852). Elected speaker of the house in the War Congress, he, more than anyone else, guided the nation into war. Later, he was part of the delegation sent to Europe to forge what proved to be a lasting peace. (Library of Congress)
According to the Philadelphia Aurora, the president’s message was “most happily adapted . . . to redeem the public mind from despondence; and to restore the nation to confidence in itself.” “It has awakened and invigorated the almost desponding spirits of the people,” added the Worcester Aegis.17 Although the War Hawks had hoped for a more spirited address, they agreed to call it a “war message.”18 The House referred the bulk of the message to its Foreign Relations Committee, which Clay had packed with War Hawks.19 Unwilling to recommend preparations without a promise from the president to support war, the committee conferred with Secretary of State James Monroe. William Lowndes reported that Monroe gave “the strongest assurances that the president will cooperate zealously with congress in declaring war if our complaints are not redressed by May next.”20
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