Biddle was mistaken about his chief’s character, however. When it appeared that Hardy’s squadron offshore had shrunk and the danger of a British attack had lessened, Decatur moved his ships back downriver to Market Wharf in New London and prepared to escape on a dark night or in bad weather. By December 12, he was ready, but as his three ships were attempting to sortie in total darkness, he saw blue lights flashing from behind on both shores, and he interpreted them as signals to Hardy from Federalist traitors. He was forced to return to the protection of his fort.
Connecticut Federalists did indeed have a treasonous liaison with Captain Hardy. Many people in the New London area liked him. When Hardy first appeared as a blockader in April 1813, he did his best to get along with Connecticut’s residents. New London historian Frances M. Caulkins wrote in 1852 that “Sir Thomas Hardy soon acquired among the inhabitants an enviable reputation for courtesy and humanity. He released some vessels, allowed others to be ransomed, paid kind attention to prisoners, and pledged his word that fishermen should not be disturbed. Liberal payment was made [in specie] for supplies taken from the coast or islands in the Sound, and parties landing for refreshment refrained entirely from plunder.”
IN THE MIDDLE of December 1813, the
Congress
returned from her lengthy cruise in the South Atlantic and put into Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Captain John Smith was looking forward to being reunited with Isaac Hull, his old friend from Mediterranean days. The
Congress
had been eight months at sea, and during that time she had captured only four prizes, the most unproductive voyage of any frigate during the war. Secretary Jones wanted her repaired, refitted, and back out to sea as soon as possible. Her damage was not extensive, despite her long voyage, but her crew, their enlistments expiring, were leaving. Smith, who was seriously ill from consumption, found it impossible to enlist a new crew. Apparently, the deepwater navy could not compete with army enlistment bonuses, navy bounties for service on the lakes, or privateers. In May Secretary Jones decided to send what was left of the
Congress
’s crew to Sackets Harbor to help man Chauncey’s
Mohawk
. Hull removed the
Congress
’s guns and sent her farther up the Piscataqua River for protection.
The
Congress
was the least of Hull’s worries, however. Lack of money, men, and supplies continued to impede work on his major project, the 74-gun ship. As long as she was building, his navy yard was a prime target. The Admiralty was anxious to destroy the new American seventy-fours before they became active, and Hull’s defenses were weak. He also had to deal with the rampant smuggling going on between Maine and Halifax, but he had almost no tools to do it with.
By the end of 1813, smuggling in Maine, Georgia, Vermont, and New York had reached such proportions that Madison and the Congress passed a far-reaching embargo on every type of shipping, including coastal shipping and fishing outside harbors. The law even prohibited inland waterways from being used for shipping without presidential permission. Massachusetts Federalists were indignant, viewing the act as aimed directly at their economy.
Despite the embargo, commerce across the Canadian border, by land and sea, flourished. Even more galling to Madison was the flow of supplies going to the British fleet off the American coast. Without this sustenance Warren’s blockade would have been far less effective. By the end of 1813 the Admiral had a stranglehold on America’s waterborne commerce. In New York Harbor, for instance, a hundred forty merchantmen were laid up, unable to sail. During 1813 shipping out of New York had dwindled to $60,000. In 1806 it had been nearly $16 million.
Yet, as difficult as it was for merchant shipping to continue trading, privateers came and went with relative ease. Even in Chesapeake Bay, the most closely guarded waterway, Baltimore privateers were able to get in and out. Warren wrote to the Admiralty on December 30 from Bermuda that “dark nights and strong winds” have allowed “several large clipper schooners, strongly manned and armed, [to] run through the blockade in the Chesapeake.” Many of the merchants whose ships were sitting in port had invested in privateers. And they were often, but not always, richly rewarded for their enterprise, which made up for the losses inflicted by the blockade.
BEFORE THE YEAR was out, word finally came of David Porter and the
Essex
in the form of two letters from him dated July 2 and 22, 1813. Desperate for relief from the steady stream of bad news, the president was quick to tout Porter’s accomplishments. The
National Intelligencer
published his letters on December 16. They revealed that before reaching the coast of Brazil, Porter captured the British brig
Nocton
, carrying $55,000 in specie. But he missed Bainbridge at their places of rendezvous, the penultimate being St. Catherine’s Island off the southern coast of Brazil. Instead of proceeding to cruise in the vicinity of St. Helena, the last rendezvous point, Porter sailed south around treacherous Cape Horn into the eastern Pacific, the first American warship to do so. (The
Essex
had also been the first to round the Cape of Good Hope during the Quasi-War with France.)
After navigating the horrendous seas off Cape Horn, Porter reached Valparaiso, where he obtained provisions and then embarked on a remarkably successful career of attacking the substantial British whaling fleet in the eastern Pacific, particularly around the Galapagos Islands. His letters reported that he captured twelve British whalers, delivering a catastrophic blow to their sizable whaling industry in that part of the world. All told, the British had twenty whalers in the eastern Pacific. Those that survived Porter’s rampage had to confine themselves to port. Most of the enemy whalers carried letter of marque papers and were a threat to American whalers. Porter was thus protecting the American fleet while he was destroying Britain’s.
Porter was also occupying a number of warships that the Admiralty had sent to find him. Two of them searched the eastern Pacific, the 36-gun frigate
Phoebe
, under Captain James Hillyar, and the 18-gun sloop of war
Cherub
, under Captain Thomas Tucker. The 26-gun
Racoon
, under Commander William Black, accompanied them as far as South America and then headed north along the Pacific coast. Black’s mission was to sail to the mouth of the Columbia River, destroy John Jacob Astor’s settlement at Astoria, and take possession of the whole area in the name of His Majesty. When the
Racoon
arrived, Black discovered that the Canadian Northwest Fur Company—after threatening that the Royal Navy was on the way—had already purchased Astor’s American Pacific Fur Company, which included Fort Astoria and the surrounding settlement. Dispatching the
Racoon
was more evidence of the Liverpool ministry’s imperial ambitions in America.
President Madison knew the British would be after Porter, and he was anxious for his return. Madison needed all the heroes he could get. The war was going far worse than he had ever imagined, and the British were giving no indication they were willing to negotiate an end to it.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Allies and Napoleon
D
ESPITE AMERICA’S MYRIAD setbacks in 1813, the British were not in a position to capitalize on them. As much as they wanted to smite the United States, they had to bide their time and deal first with a still dangerous Napoleon Bonaparte. The battle to prevent him from again becoming master of Europe occupied them throughout the year. Only after the dictator’s defeat at the Battle of Leipzig in October 1813, and his subsequent retreat to France, did it appear that his ambitions would be curbed. And even then, his demise was uncertain.
Although Britain’s life hung in the balance on the European continent, the prime minister still refused to rid himself of the unnecessary war with America. Madison had made it plain that he was desperate for a settlement. The only remaining issue was impressment, and the president had promised guarantees that British seamen would not be permitted to serve on either American warships or merchantmen. Liverpool, however, refused to listen.
The prime minister’s intransigence came from an underlying confidence that Napoleon would be beaten and from the success of British arms in North America. With the expenditure of few resources, Britain had frustrated Madison’s attempts to acquire Upper Canada, and the Royal Navy had tightened its blockade of the American coast. Instead of feeling pressure to make peace with Madison, Liverpool and his colleagues saw an opportunity to deal a crippling blow to what they thought were the republic’s maritime ambitions and, at the same time, to massively expand the British Empire on the North American continent.
Once Napoleon’s power was smashed, Liverpool intended to treat the United States as if Madison had been a poor imitation of the French dictator. The
Times
proclaimed that, “Whilst Bonaparte was at once invading Russia and Spain, the President thought it not a shame to imitate him by overrunning the Canadas and Florida.” As far as the British were concerned, there would be no compromise with Madison, as there would be none with Napoleon. Liverpool wanted a free hand in North America to make certain that neither Canada nor Florida was in American hands, nor even Louisiana. The ministry consistently maintained that Jefferson’s Louisiana Purchase had been illegal.
British ambitions in North America had to be put on hold, however, while they dealt with Napoleon. When 1813 began, it was not at all clear that he could be swept away. He was back in Paris assembling an impressive new army. Britain controlled the sea, but only Russia, in alliance with Prussia and Austria, could destroy Bonaparte’s army. The czar was committed to doing so, but his troops needed time to rest. They had suffered mightily in the struggle to expel the French from their country. Kutuzov, the commander in chief, insisted that his men needed to recuperate. He was not anxious to plunge into Central Europe. He was content with having thrown Bonaparte out of Russia. Alexander, on the other hand, wanted to push west across the Niemen into Prussia and the Duchy of Warsaw while Napoleon was on the run. He was determined to drive on to Paris and destroy the dictator’s regime. What Russia chose to do would determine if a resurgent Bonaparte could be defeated.
The world did not have to wait long for an answer. Ignoring Kutuzov’s doubts, Alexander drove his army into East Prussia in late December 1812 and early January 1813, proclaiming that he had come as a liberator. Immediately, the Prussian king, Frederick William, moved to ally Prussia with Russia, and after some negotiation he signed an alliance on February 28. It was a major step forward. Already, part of Frederick William’s army under General Yorck had deserted Napoleon and changed sides.
The key to defeating Bonaparte was now Austria. If she joined Russia, Prussia, and Great Britain, Napoleon might be destroyed. But it was unlikely that Austria would join the alliance, and even if she did, it was by no means certain that the allies could achieved the degree of cooperation necessary to defeat the new army Napoleon was raising.
By the beginning of March the armies of Alexander and Frederick William had liberated all of Prussia. A lull followed, as the allies rested their soldiers and prepared for the inevitable showdown with Napoleon. Meanwhile, Bonaparte’s new army had swollen to 120,000, and he marched east beyond the Rhine into Saxony, intending to destroy the allies before they got stronger. It looked as if Napoleon would repeat the brilliant victories of the past. He met the allied armies at Lutzen, southwest of Leipzig, on May 2. The Russians and Prussians combined had around 85,000 men. Not only did they have fewer troops than the French, but they did not have a battlefield commander who could compare with Bonaparte.
Demonstrating his tactical genius once more, Napoleon defeated the allies decisively. They suffered 20,000 casualties and were barely able to escape total ruin. The French had an equal number of killed and wounded, however, and unlike previous victories, Napoleon failed to pursue and deliver a final blow. Even though his raw recruits had fought well, he did not have the cavalry he once had. If he had, the defeat might have been fatal to the allies.
The allied armies were able to retreat east and cross the Elbe to Bautzen, where Napoleon attacked them again on May 20–21. Once again, he had an advantage in numbers. The allies had around 100,000 troops, and Napoleon, having received reinforcements from France after Lutzen, now had nearly 200,000. Bautzen was almost another Austerlitz. The allies were nearly annihilated, but thanks to Marshall Ney’s blunders, they were able to escape final destruction. As they retreated east, Bonaparte’s star appeared on the rise again. When word of Lutzen and Bautzen reached Washington during the summer, Madison was relieved and encouraged. His gamble on Bonaparte was still viable.
Instead of pressing his advantage at this point, Napoleon sent Caulaincourt to seek an armistice with Alexander, which the czar eagerly accepted. It lasted from June 4 to August 10. Napoleon’s casualties in the two great battles had been exceedingly high, and he needed to rejuvenate his army, particularly the cavalry. He later admitted that agreeing to the armistice was a major blunder. Alexander and the Prussians needed a respite more than the French did. They had been bloodied and were on the brink of disaster. They desperately needed to reconstitute their armies.
The armistice was supposedly for the purpose of arranging a peace settlement, but both sides used it to prepare for a fight to the death. Austria had still not committed to the allies. Napoleon’s fate would hang on what she chose to do. Bonaparte saw with great clarity that he needed to placate Austria and to divide Prussia from Russia. Whether he could do so was another matter.