Had he been able to articulate a plausible strategy to end the war honorably, Clinton might well have unseated Madison. Instead, he tried to be all things to all people, arguing in places where the war was popular that he would end it by winning and promising to people who did not support the war that he would simply end it. His duplicity did not escape notice, and it hurt him badly.
In spite of Clinton’s campaign blunders, opposition to Madison was strong enough that by early fall his reelection was in doubt. To offset the devastating effects of the army’s failures, the president ostentatiously embraced the navy’s heroes, particularly Isaac Hull and Charles Morris of the
Constitution
. To what extent the naval victories improved his chances is impossible to tell, but Madison certainly felt they were a great political asset.
As the campaign progressed, Pennsylvania’s twenty-five electoral votes appeared critical. Supporters of both Madison and Clinton pursued them vigorously. The candidates themselves did so through surrogates. In keeping with the custom followed by Adams and Jefferson, they affected to be above politics and did no campaigning directly. The president, however, continued to allow farmers to ship corn and flour on a massive scale to Wellington’s army in Spain and Portugal under British licenses. This was an important source of his support in places like Pennsylvania and other mid-Atlantic and Southern states.
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 thinking. 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.”