by Mark Zuehlke
But he was quite happy to leave the difficult battle to win approval for permanent taxation to be fought by others. Gallatin admitted to being “well aware that my going to Russia will probably terminate in the appointment of another Secretary of the Treasury and in my returning to private life.”17 That was a small personal price to pay for peace. The long years in the administration, the constant heckling and bitter attacks on his reputation, the fact that he distrusted and disliked the newly appointed Armstrong had disenchanted Gallatin with political life. Being an arbiter of peace would serve as a fitting finale to his public career.
Monroe extended the invitation to Bayard on April 5. Bayard received the note at his Wilmington home two days later. His response was immediate. “The proposition … was entirely unexpected,” he wrote. “I do not allow myself however to hesitate in my determination on the subject.
“If the President considers that it is within the means of my abilities to render any service to our common country, it is for him to command the full exertion of them. The occasion is of that nature that I do not allow myself to enquire what is my private interest or convenience.
“I beg you Sir to make known to the President that I am highly flattered by this mark of his confidence which certainly shall be met by a correspondent fidelity and I will also beg you at the same time to assure Him that I can promise every thing which belongs to an unbiased devotion to the interests of the Country.”18
The announcement that Bayard and Gallatin were to be the envoys brought immediate response in the press. The anti-war newspapers saw a conspiracy by Madison to pretend to desire peace and engage in negotiations that the administration would then ensure failed so as to create new impetus for banging the drum of war. On the other hand the War Hawk lobby noted that both Gallatin and Bayard opposed the war. Did their joint appointment not suggest that the administration sought peace too eagerly and would agree to any conditions that the British might insist upon? Not surprisingly Bayard faced some sharp rebukes from Federalist colleagues for deigning to serve as an agent of Madison’s administration. Killiam K. Van Rensselaer, Solomon Van Rensselaer’s uncle and a veteran New York State senator, expressed the fear that Madison was “disposed to sacrifice you in the apparent attempt to make a peace, when no one here has the least idea that the Administration is sincere.”19
Bayard refused to credit claims that the mission was some kind of administration plot to build American support for the war. “If any Sinister views be entertained,” he replied, “they are unknown to me, but if that be the case I should think it very wonderful, that they should select a political adversary to trust with the Secret. I can well imagine without the exercise of either confidence or charity that peace may be sincerely desired by the Administration.”
That the Americans going to St. Petersburg were to eagerly seek peace at any cost was an equally ridiculous charge. Monroe’s April 15 instructions to Bayard and Gallatin jeopardized the likelihood of a successful negotiation from the outset. If Great Britain gave “satisfactory assurance that she would abandon her claim with respect to impressment of seamen and ‘illegal blockades.’ ” warfare on the part of the United States would cease.20 Also the article contained in Jay’s Treaty of 1794 that allowed British traders from Canada to trade with Indians within the boundaries of the United States was not to be renewed. “The pernicious effects of this privilege have been most sensibly felt in the present war, by the influence which it gave to the traders over the Indians, whose whole force has been wielded by means thereof against the inhabitants of our Western States and Territories.” There would also be no restrictions on America’s right to deploy any size navy it wished on the Great Lakes and to use that navy to exclude British traders from navigating the lakes and rivers exclusively under American jurisdiction. Both Britain and the U.S. must return any territory seized during the war.21
If these conditions were not enough to scuttle things, Monroe added another on April 27. Britain must understand that the Floridas were irrevocably going to come under American control. West Florida had been legally ceded to the United States by France, and Congress had authorized the president to seize East Florida if any foreign power attempted its occupation. The message was to be made clear that Britain must not consider establishing a presence there.22
Gallatin and Bayard were both in Philadelphia preparing to embark for Russia when the Florida letter reached them on May 2. Each man thought bringing Florida up at all a bad idea. In a letter to Monroe, Gallatin confided that this idea had prompted Bayard to express “his apprehensions that we would fail, and his regret that we had not more discretion on the subject of impressments.” Bayard wanted to enter into an informal understanding with the British rather than forcing them to sign “a solemn article.” This approach, he believed, would succeed because it saved “the pride of Great Britain.”23
Monroe’s reply was quick. On May 5, he left to their discretion how the treaty was worded regarding the end of impressment, but that “leaving it in silence and trusting to a mere understanding liable to doubts and different explanations, would not be that security which the United States have a right to expect.” The next day he wrote again, setting out a long list of grievances against Britain and defending raising Florida in the negotiations. Possession of both East and West Florida, he argued, “would facilitate your negotiations in favour of impressment and every other object, especially if it was distinctly seen by the British ministers or minister that, instead of yielding them or any part of either, we would push our fortunes in that direction and in Canada if they do not hasten to accommodate. Satisfied I am that the more we endeavor to tranquilize their fears and to conciliate their esteem by any species of concession … which may be imputed to timidity or a desire to get out of the war, by the tone assumed in the negotiation, the more certain its failure, and the longer will be the continuance of the war afterwards.”24
Gallatin starkly warned Monroe on May 8 against recklessly proceeding with outright occupation of East Florida and investing the heavily fortified West Florida town of Mobile, which remained a Spanish island in the American sea there. Such action, he believed, would cause a war with Spain that would “disgust every man north of Washington” because it was motivated purely by southern desire for more land. Gallatin reassured Monroe that he agreed that no informal arrangement regarding impressment would be acceptable. There would have to be a sine qua non treaty clause.25
The next day Gallatin and Bayard boarded the 300-ton Neptune at Newcastle and sailed down the Delaware River to gain the Atlantic. James Gallatin was also aboard, as was Madison’s twenty-one-year-old stepson, John Payne Todd. He and George Dallas, the twenty-year-old son of Philadelphia senator and stout Madison supporter Alexander J. Dallas, had been assigned by the president to serve as Gallatin’s secretaries—a chance for the two young men to gain diplomatic experience that would help prepare them for political careers. Bayard’s secretary was Col. George B. Milligan.
As it was customary for those attending the Russian court to wear uniforms, Todd, Dallas, and James Gallatin had been commissioned as third lieutenants of cavalry without pay so that they could be appropriately turned out. Colonel Milligan had packed his standard utility and dress uniforms, while Gallatin and Bayard were provided with individually tailored uniforms not associated with any military rank or service. Monroe had expressed particular pleasure with Gallatin’s uniform, an embroidered “blue coat, lined with buff, with a buff waistcoat and small cloaths, yellow buttons.” The secretary of state thought it “a handsome uniform, national and economical.”26
Because of the British blockades Neptune could not avoid interception, so the Russians had formally requested a pass for the envoys from Admiral John Warren in Halifax. As Warren issued the necessary documents, he asked the Russian consular officer if the United States might be disposed to an immediate armistice to remain in effect until negotiations were concluded. Madison refused, unless the British first removed their blockade
s and withdrew all troops from American territory—something he knew they would not do.27
Whether the pass would be honoured was of great concern. Just after dawn on May 11, Bayard stood on the main deck looking toward the capes that flanked the mouth of the Delaware and noted that square in the middle of the river stood a British ship that Neptune’s captain, Lloyd Jones, identified as the 38-gun frigate Spartan. There was virtually no wind, Neptune drifting on the ebb tide at a painfully slow pace toward the river’s mouth. It took four hours for the ship to come alongside Spartan. When the British captain, Edward Brenton, was advised of the ship’s mission and the identity of the two envoys, he invited Gallatin and Bayard aboard his ship. The two men declined the invitation, sending Jones and secretaries Dallas and Milligan instead. “They were at first received coldly,” Bayard noted in his diary, because Brenton believed the ship a merchant vessel and was bent on searching it for contraband goods. Jones quickly produced papers certifying Neptune as a U.S. naval ship and the guarantee of safe passage provided by Admiral Warren. Brenton’s “manners … changed and he behaved with marked civility.” When Jones and the secretaries returned to Neptune, the ship was “allowed to drift to sea with the tide.”28 The American commissioners were on their way to Europe.
FOURTEEN
An Expanded War
SPRING 1813
While President Madison hastened to send envoys to Russia to take advantage of Tsar Alexander’s mediation offer, the war intensified. In Great Britain, the government’s attitude toward America had hardened during the winter of 1812–13 as news of Royal Navy losses to the U.S. frigates filtered in. When the presidential election swept Madison back to power, Lord Liverpool’s cabinet decided it must commit more resources to the war or risk losing British North America.
On January 9, the Prince Regent issued a declaration that for the first time officially acknowledged that there was no end in sight to the war between the two nations. The message was carefully crafted to further foster the general public feeling that Madison had started this war in collusion with Napoleon Bonaparte and was in fact little more than a puppet dancing on the end of the emperor’s strings.1 Speaking from the House of Commons backbenches, George Canning decried Madison as “the arch enemy of this country.”2
In London, The Times demanded an end to negotiation with “these blustering democrats; for surely no person in his senses could ever have believed that Mr. Madison would accede to any terms consistent with the honour or safety of this country.” The editors spurned Madison’s persistent denials that the United States was in any way aligned with France.3
At No. 14 Downing Street, Lord Bathurst and Undersecretary Henry Goulburn worked feverishly to drum up reinforcements for Canada. It was a painfully complicated business, requiring gleaning a battalion of infantry in one corner of the empire, a company of artillery in another. As each unit was confirmed a letter was dashed off to Sir George Prevost bearing the news. Finally Bathurst provided Prevost with a complete accounting and the promise that when the ice melted on the St. Lawrence River sufficient to permit navigation, the 19th Light Dragoons regiment, a company of Royal Artillery as well as reinforcements to bring the existing four artillery companies in Canada up to strength, detachments of drivers, sappers, and miners, battalions from seven infantry regiments, and two regiments of Swiss troops would arrive. Bathurst could not, however, promise that many of these troops would reach Canada in time for the 1813 campaign season because they were coming from great distances. One of the Swiss regiments, for example, was being released from the Iberian campaign, where the tide had so turned in Britain’s favour that Wellington’s army could be slightly reduced.4 It was entirely possible that Prevost would have to meet the inevitable early-spring invasion with what forces were on hand.
Hoping to force the Americans to divert troops away from Canada, the British government instructed Admiral Warren in January to launch a series of raids along America’s coastline in addition to maintaining the blockades. Liverpool’s cabinet realized that Warren would not be able to fully blockade such a long coast riddled with small bays, coves, and inlets. Instead key ports would be blockaded, while the raids would spread panic throughout the coastal communities and create demands for defensive troops. Warren was also to corral as many U.S. naval ships inside blockaded ports as possible to prevent their putting out to sea where they might threaten British shipping and trade lines.
By early spring Warren had blockaded Chesapeake and Delaware bays, New York City, Charleston, Port Royal, Savannah, and the mouth of the Mississippi. No American ships, naval or merchant, were allowed in or out and were seized if possible. Neutral ships approaching these ports were warned off, while those caught within were denied exit. Attempts to elude the blockade resulted in seizure.
Another stricture the Admiralty imposed on the Royal Navy was that ship captains were to refuse single-ship engagements that they might lose. To ensure that his blockading forces could defeat any challenge issued by the U.S. Navy, Warren always had a ship of the line supporting every squadron of frigates and smaller ships. This was particularly the case at Boston, a favourite port for American frigate captains.5
While Warren sought to bottle up the American fleet, Secretary of the Navy William Jones struggled to get all his ships out to sea. Knowing the U.S. Navy was too weak to directly challenge the blockades, Jones ordered his captains to slip out to sea one by one and then scatter. His idea was simple. Working singly, each U.S. frigate or schooner would carve out a section of ocean as its personal hunting ground and capture or destroy any British shipping that strayed across its sights. If enough havoc was wreaked, the British blockades would have to be lifted so these squadrons could pursue the American warships or shepherd maritime shipping by convoy through the troubled waters. In this way, Jones was confident America could challenge British domination of the seas “without hazarding the precious gems of our national glory.” Given their scant numbers, Jones was anxious to preserve every ship he had.
Some ships escaped the blockades. Others had already been at sea before the blockades were erected. The 32-gun Essex was among the latter. Having put out from Delaware in late October, by spring 1813 it had rounded Cape Horn to spread terror throughout the British whaling fleet operating near the Galapagos Islands.
Loose in the South Atlantic was the 18-gun sloop Hornet, under Capt. James Lawrence, which tangled with Capt. William Peake’s brig Peacock in February. In a thirty-minute action fought at a range of 50 yards, Lawrence managed to swing Hornet so as to fire on Peacock’s starboard quarter with full effect while Peake could only counter with two after-guns. The Americans mauled the British ship. Grapeshot and sniper fire from the sails aloft slaughtered the sailors manning the after-guns. A cannonball tore Peake asunder, while a falling spar swept the ensign overboard, prompting the senior lieutenant to surrender the ship. A prize-crew jumped aboard only to find the ship foundering. Three Americans and eight British drowned trying to abandon her. Lawrence had lost only 1 man killed and 2 wounded during the fight itself, while the British had suffered 9 dead and 28 wounded.6
That the blockades were far from impregnable was effectively demonstrated by Commodore John Rodgers when, taking advantage of late-season heavy seas and a blinding snowstorm that had driven the British ships out of position, he slipped President and Congress out of Boston on April 23. Once at sea the two ships scattered per Jones’s instructions. Congress achieved little over its eight-month cruise. But Rodgers took President on a great circle of the Atlantic that passed the Azores, the Shetlands, and the Orkneys, looped around Ireland, and then scoured through the Grand Banks off Newfoundland before dodging back into the shelter of Newport, Rhode Island, in September. Rodgers had taken a dozen prizes during his voyage, and every British attempt to intercept him had gone for naught.
Two other ships, United States and Macedonian, also slipped their tethers, escaping from New York at the end of May. Although these ships had luckless cruises, their elu
sion of the blockade exposed Warren to much criticism and added to the growing British public opinion that the American naval captains could run circles at will around their Royal Navy counterparts.7
That illusion was somewhat laid to rest when Capt. Philip Broke of the 38-gun Shannon met the much-lauded Capt. James Lawrence, who had just taken command of the American frigate Chesapeake—star of the 1807 impressment crisis—in a head-to-head contest. Although the ships mounted an equal number of guns and Chesapeake had a larger crew, Broke decided to bring the ship to battle despite Admiralty injunctions against single-ship engagements. For weeks he had been relentlessly training his gun crews and felt them ready to match the best of the U.S. Navy. On June 1, standing off Boston harbour, he issued a formal challenge for Lawrence to meet “ship to ship to try the fortunes of our respective flags.” The challenge was issued too late, however, as before it reached the harbour, Chesapeake sailed directly toward Shannon. Both men were spoiling for a fight, even though Lawrence thought his crew green as grass and Chesapeake jinxed. Before leaving his cabin for the bridge, the American captain scratched out a hurried letter to a friend. “Should I be so unfortunate as to be taken off,” he wrote, “I leave my wife and children to your care.”
The two ships passed several hours manoeuvring for position, but at about four in the afternoon opened on each other with a broadside at close range. Broke had his guns loaded with double shot that tore into the American vessel with catastrophic result. Great holes were rent in the bulwarks, the sailing master fell dead, the fourth lieutenant lay dying, Lawrence was struck in the leg by a sniper’s musket ball. The two ships veered and then collided, Shannon’s after-port being caught by Chesapeake’s anchor. The resulting position left the American upper decks completely exposed to Shannon’s forward guns, which raked them with grapeshot. A group of British sailors jumped aboard Chesapeake but were driven back in a vicious fight, and Lawrence was wounded a second time when a bullet pierced his abdomen.
