WHILE THE SLOOPS and the
Adams
were engaged at sea, work on the 74-gun battleships continued at an excruciatingly slow pace—the
Washington
under Hull at Portsmouth, New Hampshire; the
Independence
under Bainbridge in Boston; and the
Franklin
in Philadelphia under Commodore Alexander Murray and Naval Agent George Harrison, superintendent of the Philadelphia Navy Yard.
Of the new 44-gun frigates, the
Guerriere
was in the Delaware River, ready for sea but blockaded. The
Java
was unfinished in Baltimore, being used as a receiving ship. Her captain, Oliver Hazard Perry, was overseeing construction, but he appeared bored with the assignment and spent a good deal of time in Newport, Rhode Island. While he was away, work slowed dramatically on the frigate. The
Columbia
was destroyed at the Washington Navy Yard in August to prevent her from falling into British hands when they burned the city.
Despite the myriad problems with the new American ships, the Admiralty continued to have them on its mind. The
Times
of London wrote that the new American navy being built “must be annihilated.... Let us never forget that the present war is an unprovoked attack on the very existence of Great Britain.... The United States is now persuaded that the sea is her element, and not ours.... Now America stands alone; hereafter she may have allies. Let us strike while the iron is hot.”
The U.S. Navy was also trying to build Robert Fulton’s steam frigate, designed to break the blockade of New York Harbor. Secretary Jones even considered a similar ship for Lake Ontario. David Porter was enthusiastic about her possibilities, and so was Stephen Decatur. While Decatur was in New York, he had become a strong supporter of Fulton’s steam frigate and publicized its potential in an open letter on January 3, 1814.
The navy gave the inventor a substantial sum to build it, and
Fulton the First
, the world’s first steam warship, was launched at New York on October 29, 1814. Twenty thousand enthusiastic spectators witnessed her slide into the water. The giant ship was then towed to a New Jersey shipyard to have its 120-horsepower engine installed.
Fulton the First
was still there when the war ended. She was finally delivered to the navy in June 1816.
At year’s end, the navy had 10,617 men in service. Of these, 3,250 were on the lakes—500 on Lake Champlain, 2,300 on Lake Ontario, and 450 on Lake Erie—while 405 were prisoners. The rest were in various ports around the country. Very few were at sea. The number of seamen in the service was entirely inadequate to compete with the British on the lakes and the oceans and to defend the coast. Secretary Jones was not reluctant to remind the president of this unpleasant fact, but there was little, apparently, they could do about it.
Privateers continued to be a bright spot for Madison. During the war 526 set out. Of these, 26 were ships, 67 brigs, 364 schooners, 35 sloops, and 34 miscellaneous small craft. By virtue of their exceptional speed and handling, especially when sailing close-hauled, schooners were the preferred model. The British managed to capture 148 of the privateers.
As had happened during the Revolution, the size of American privateers and their effectiveness improved as the war progressed. They often traveled in packs for protection and profit. Estimates of how many vessels they captured varied from 1,175 to 2,300. Lloyds of London claimed that during the war American privateers captured 1,175 British merchantmen and 373 had been recaptured or released.
Niles’ Weekly Register
thought the number of captures was over 2,300. Other estimates were in between, but, by any measure, the number was high.
Privateers put out from ports all along the Atlantic coast, but New England, the bastion of Federalism, ironically sent out the largest number. Fifty-eight came from Baltimore; fifty-five from New York; forty-one from Salem, Massachusetts; thirty-one from Boston; and around fifteen from the smaller New England ports like Portland, Portsmouth, Marblehead, Beverly, Newburyport, Newport, and Providence. New Bedford, Massachusetts, had none: it was strongly Quaker and resolutely prohibited privateers from putting out or entering port.
Seamen consistently chose privateering over the navy or army. Marblehead, Massachusetts, for instance, had over 700 men in privateers and only 120 in the navy and 57 in the army, even though the town supported the war.
Niles’ Weekly Register
estimated 100,000 seamen were ready to serve in privateers.
Britain’s home islands were particularly lucrative hunting grounds. Many American privateers were large ships of twenty and even thirty guns with two-hundred-man crews. Powerful and fast, they wreaked havoc with shipping in the Irish Channel and the North Sea. British merchantmen found they could not sail safely around their own country without being attacked.
Britain’s Convoy Act did not apply to vessels traveling around the British Isles. Traffic was so extensive it would have been impractical to force all vessels to travel in protected convoys. By the fall of 1814 insurance rates had climbed threefold—the highest they had been since the war with France began in 1793. The
Yankee
privateer out of Bristol, Rhode Island, alone made forty captures, which translated into $3 million for the investors. And there were many more privateers with almost as spectacular records.
Angry about losses at the hands of the privateers, shipowners, merchants, manufacturers, and underwriters of the City of Glasgow, Scotland, issued a strong statement on September 17, 1814, expressing outrage:
That the number of American privateers with which our channels have been infested, the audacity with which they have approached our coasts, and the success with which their enterprise has been attended have proved injurious to our commerce, humbling to our pride, and discreditable to the directors of our naval power, whose flag till late waved over every sea and triumphed over every rival.... There is reason to believe that in the short space of less than twenty-four months above 800 vessels have been captured by that power whose maritime strength we have hitherto . . . held in scorn.... Our ships cannot with safety traverse our own channels, ... insurance cannot be effected but at an excessive premium, and [it is shameful] that a horde of American cruisers should be allowed, unheeded, unresisted and unmolested to take, burn or sink our own vessels in our own inlets, and almost within sight of our own harbors.
The Scotsmen spoke for many other frustrated communities around the British Isles.
As frustrating as 1814 was for the American navy, the remarkable victories of individual warships contributed immeasurably to the respect the British ministry was developing for the capacity of the United States at sea. The success of American privateers reinforced this new attitude. The Liverpool government’s altered view of the potential strength of America at sea would play a major role in fashioning a permanent peace, something that in August 1814 appeared unobtainable to President Madison and his supporters.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Negotiations Begin at Ghent
T
HE LONG DELAYED peace talks began the second week of August 1814, in the old Flemish city of Ghent. Since at least March 1813, President Madison had been eager for them. But Liverpool had been in no hurry. He was awaiting results from the battlefield that would support his demands at the negotiating table. By the time talks began at Ghent, however, the prime minister’s delay was working against him. In the spring of 1814 Liverpool and his colleagues had assumed that European matters would no longer absorb their energies as they had during the Napoleonic Wars. But as spring became summer, this assumption proved incorrect. Dealing with the aftermath of the Napoleonic collapse proved far more difficult than Liverpool and Castlereagh had imagined. Napoleon had transformed the continent. The frontiers of nearly every European country needed to be redrawn, and there was no agreement among the great powers about how that should be done. In addition, Britain had conquered all the French, Dutch, and Danish overseas colonies, and they needed to be reallocated.
Liverpool and Castlereagh had hoped that agreement on new European boundaries and the overseas possessions in British hands would be made at the time the peace treaty was signed with Bourbon France on May 30, but the jealousies and rivalries among the powers made that impossible. Liverpool then hoped that a conference of the four great powers, scheduled in London for ten days in June, would accomplish the same result, but that too failed. Instead of being resolved, the differences among Russia, Prussia, Austria, and Britain widened.
None of the squabbling at the London conference reached the public. The
Times
was effusive in its praise of Czar Alexander and the king of Prussia (Metternich attended for Austria). Yet the real business of the conference remained unfinished, and as summer progressed, hopes for an early settlement evaporated. On August 1 the
Times
finally recognized that “much yet remains to be done in Europe.” Indeed it did.
Of the many issues before the four powers, the most contentious was Russian dominion over Poland. Czar Alexander, by virtue of having an army in Poland, controlled its destiny, and he wanted not an independent country—none of the powers wanted that—but a state with a constitution that guaranteed Russian domination. Castlereagh regarded such an arrangement as a menace to the balance of power in Europe and a threat to British security. Austria also found Russian control of Poland unacceptable. Prussia, for her part, did not want Russian control of Poland either, but the Prussian king was weak and under Alexander’s influence. Frederick William was unwilling to break with the czar unless compensated with all of Saxony. Austria, however, would not agree to Prussian absorption of Saxony. Thus, through the summer and fall of 1814, the four powers were hopelessly deadlocked.
Further complicating matters, the restored monarchy in France, which Castlereagh had helped engineer, was weak, unpopular, and in danger of being overthrown by a coup of disgruntled army officers or by Jacobins and their allies. If a coup succeeded, it would ignite another European war, which would require a substantial commitment of British troops and money, making Liverpool’s diversion of resources to America look like a dreadful mistake.
Europe’s tortured diplomacy and Louis XVIII’s weakness had a decisive influence on the negotiations at Ghent. By the time talks finally began, Liverpool’s thinking differed markedly from what it had been in the euphoric spring days immediately after Napoleon’s abdication. Instead of being focused on redrawing the map of North America, Liverpool, Castlereagh, and Bathurst now had their attention on the European map and on Paris. Their expansive goals in America became much more elastic.
The American envoys at Ghent were unaware of the changing mood in London, and so, oddly, were the British negotiators—Vice Admiral James Gambier, Dr. William Adams, and Henry Goulburn. Liverpool, Castlereagh, and Bathurst did not keep their three representatives well informed of the ministry’s thinking, nor did they allow them any independent judgments. London exercised tight control over the talks. As a result, when the British commissioners presented the cabinet’s proposals, they made them appear as firm demands, when in fact they were tentative, designed to probe. If the Americans accepted them, fine, but if not, Liverpool was ready to soften his positions.
The three British envoys were neither powerful politicians nor distinguished diplomats. The titular head of the team, Vice Admiral Gambier, was a naval commander famous for leading the second Battle of Copenhagen in 1807, but he had no diplomatic experience. Adams was an Admiralty lawyer, a technician rather than a diplomat, and Goulburn was undersecretary of state for war and the colonies, a rigid, anti-American Tory—Bathurst’s reliable instrument, almost unknown in Britain.
With the exception of Jonathan Russell, the American commissioners, by contrast, were accomplished and powerful. John Quincy Adams, Albert Gallatin, Henry Clay, and James Bayard were as fine a diplomatic team as ever represented the United States. Russell, for his part, had been minister to Sweden since January 18, 1814, and although not as celebrated as the others, he had extensive diplomatic experience.
The Americans had been waiting six weeks for their British counterparts to arrive in Ghent. Indeed, except for Clay and Russell, they had been waiting over a year for negotiations to start. Gambier and his colleagues finally got to Ghent on August 6, and their first meeting with the Americans took place two days later at the Hotel des Pays-Bas.
Although Gambier was the head of the mission, Goulburn took the lead when meeting with the Americans, and at the initial gathering he presented three subjects that London was prepared to discuss. The first was impressment, the second an Indian buffer state, and the third a revision of boundaries between the United States and adjacent British colonies. He also brought up the question of the Newfoundland fisheries and rights of navigation on the Mississippi. He said that Britain would no longer grant fishing rights without being given an equivalent, by which he meant rights to unlimited navigation on the Mississippi.
The Americans withdrew to their quarters to discuss a reply. That night, new instructions on impressment arrived from Secretary of State Monroe. “On mature consideration,” he wrote, “it has been decided that, under all the circumstances alluded to, incident to a prosecution of the war, you may omit any stipulation on the subject of impressment, if found indispensably necessary to terminate it.” Monroe sent the instructions on June 25 and 27.