Castlereagh’s conciliatory tone was in keeping with his new policy of establishing friendly relations with the United States. The Admiralty soon made ships available to transport the prisoners home. Of course, the blacks had to be careful where they were taken; they did not want to exchange one hell for another. They were the last to leave.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
A New Era
A
S WITH ALL wars, the most important question at the end of the War of 1812 was: Could the gains possibly justify the deaths and disfiguring of so many young men, the disruption of lives, the tearing apart of families, the sorrow of parents, wives, children, and friends, the robbing and slaughter of innocent civilians? Could anything compensate for the sacrifice of the baby-faced soldiers, dead before their time, their decaying bodies rotting in common graves? What purpose did it serve to kill so many? Where was the honor, the glory, the victory?
When the terms of the peace treaty became known, it looked as if the young men and their families had sacrificed in vain. The combatants simply agreed to return to the status quo before the war started. The maritime disputes about free trade and sailors’ rights were not even mentioned. The war seemed to have settled nothing. John Quincy Adams famously declared the Treaty of Ghent to be only “an unlimited Armistice [rather] than a peace, . . . hardly less difficult to preserve than . . . to obtain.”
The maritime rivalry of Great Britain and the United States, and the uncertainty of their borders in North America, provided fertile grounds for continued conflict. If war resumed in Europe, as Liverpool, Castlereagh, Bathurst, and Wellington thought likely, the old problems of neutral rights and impressment would inevitably come to the fore again, as would competition over who controlled Canada, Florida, the Caribbean, the Mississippi, the Louisiana Territory, and the Pacific coast. The potential points of friction were so numerous that a new and more terrible conflict appeared inevitable.
Madison believed the danger would be significantly increased if the United States demobilized—as she had after the Revolution and the Quasi-War with France. Disarmament might tempt Britain to renew her aggressiveness on the high seas and expand her North American empire. Presidents Washington and Adams had also believed that military weakness invited European meddling. For years, Madison and his mentor Jefferson had rejected that view. Keeping the army and navy small and inexpensive was fundamental to their political philosophy. The war changed Madison’s mind, however. He now thought Washington and Adams had been right. A politically united country with a respectable army and navy was the best safeguard against a renewal of war with Britain or any other imperialist country.
On February 18, 1815, Madison warned Congress not to dismantle the military establishment built up during the war. He wrote:
The reduction of the public expenditures, the demands of a peace establishment will doubtless engage the immediate attention of Congress. There are, however, important considerations which forbid a sudden and general revocation of the measures that have been produced by the war. Experience has taught us that neither the pacific dispositions of the American people nor the pacific character of their political institutions can altogether exempt them from that strife which appears beyond the ordinary lot of nations to be incident to the actual period of the world, and the same faithful monitor demonstrates that a certain degree of preparation for war is not only indispensable to avert disasters at the outset, but affords also the best security for the continuance of peace. The wisdom of Congress will therefore, I am confident, provide for the maintenance of an adequate regular force; for the gradual advancement of the naval establishment; for improving all the means of harbor defense; for adding discipline to the distinguished bravery of the militia, and for cultivating the military art in its essential branches, under liberal patronage of the government.
Madison was addressing a receptive audience. A significant portion of the Republican Party, and all Federalists, were committed to a strong navy, an adequate professional army, and the financial reforms necessary to support them. Albert Gallatin wrote, “the war has laid the foundations of permanent taxes and military establishments, which the Republicans had [in the past] deemed unfavorable to the happiness and free institutions of the country.”
The 14th Congress, which convened on March 4, 1815—heavily influenced by British aggressiveness the previous year—heeded Madison’s advice. It approved a strong naval expansion program and a regular army of 10,000. The president had asked for a force twice that size, but he accepted the smaller one as adequate. Congress had no similar qualms about increasing the navy. It authorized an eight-year naval armament program that included nine 74-gun battleships, twelve 44-gun heavy frigates, three steam batteries, one smaller battleship, two smaller frigates, and two sloops of war to be built each year.
Not only did Congress approve a strong defense, but it also enacted the financial reforms to fund it, raising taxes and establishing a national bank. In doing so, it was enacting the program begun by Alexander Hamilton, George Washington, and John Adams and rejected by Jefferson when he took office in 1801. America had now come full circle; the war had crystallized political opinion in favor of a strong national defense as the best guarantee against more wars. The notion that a disarmed country could protect itself against imperialist Europe by using “peaceful coercion” and diplomacy was forever rejected.
THE NEWFOUND STRENGTH of the United States was put on display immediately after the treaty with Britain was ratified. On February 23, while the country was celebrating peace, Madison asked Congress to declare war on Algeria. The president wrote that the Dey of Algiers had been in “open and direct warfare” against the United States since 1812, and it was time to put a stop to his depredations. On March 3, after lopsided votes of approval in both the House and the Senate, Madison signed the declaration of war.
Spearheaded by the new secretary of the navy, Benjamin W. Crowninshield, and with an efficiency unknown during the war, the government prepared enough naval power to force Algeria to mend her ways. Madison was determined to use overwhelming force to bring about a quick settlement. He was doing the exact opposite of what Jefferson did in 1801, when he was confronted with a similar problem. Jefferson’s war against the Barbary pirates dragged on for four years, from 1801 to 1805, because he would not apply sufficient force until the very end. Madison was not going to repeat that mistake. The American navy was now the strongest it had ever been, and he intended to use it.
The president decided to dispatch two powerful squadrons to the Mediterranean—and three if necessary. He appointed Decatur to lead the first and Bainbridge the second. At the moment, Decatur was occupied with a court of inquiry on the loss of the
President
, but that did not deter Madison, who assumed Decatur would be exonerated—and he was.
Bainbridge was senior to Decatur, and normally the president would have given the lead to him, but Madison much preferred Decatur and gave him the coveted assignment. Bainbridge was miffed, of course—not surprising to either Madison or Crowninshield—but that did not matter. Decatur would lead the way with the first squadron, and Bainbridge would follow with the second. When Bainbridge reached the Mediterranean, he would become overall commander, so Decatur rushed to get there first. In fact, he refused to serve under Bainbridge. Madison allowed Decatur the option of returning to the United States when Bainbridge arrived. The arrangement was, to say the least, extraordinary. Madison must have felt that Decatur needed special treatment after the loss of the
President
. It was also clear that the president wasn’t enamored with Bainbridge.
Decatur received his orders on March 27 and went full speed ahead. By the third week in April his squadron was waiting off Staten Island ready to sail. It included his flagship, the new 44-gun
Guerriere
, with Master Commandant William Lewis as flag captain; the 38-gun
Macedonian
, under Captain Jacob Jones; the 38-gun
Constellation
, under Captain Charles Gordon; the 22-gun sloop of war
Ontario
, under Master Commandant Jesse Elliott; the 18-gun brig
Epervier
(captured by the
Peacock
) under Lieutenant John Downes, who unaccountably had not yet been promoted to master commandant; the 14-gun brig
Firefly
, under Lieutenant George W. Rodgers (the commodore’s nephew); the 12-gun brig
Flambeau
, under Lieutenant J. B. Nicolson; the12-gun brig
Spark
, a former privateer, under Lieutenant Thomas Gamble (brother of Peter Gamble, who died at the Battle of Plattsburgh); the 11-gun schooner
Spitfire
, under Lieutenant A. J. Dallas; and the 10-gun schooner
Torch
, under Lieutenant Wolcott Chauncey. By any standard it was a strong squadron with outstanding leaders. In fact, it was the most powerful ever assembled under the American flag.
On April 29, Decatur, straining to get going, was put on hold. Word reached Washington that on February 26 Napoleon had slipped away from Elba with 1,100 troops and on March 1 landed at Golfe Juan near Cannes on the Riviera. Not unexpectedly, the French army rallied to him. With no support among the people, Louis XVIII secretly fled Paris on March 20 at two o’clock in the morning. Later that day, Bonaparte entered the capital. Wellington was in Vienna at the time, and the allies unanimously agreed not to recognize Napoleon. They vowed to get rid of him. With the advent of a new war, the same old maritime problems that had bedeviled British-American relations in the past could well rise again.
Nonetheless, after receiving assurances from the Liverpool ministry, Madison allowed Decatur to proceed. He stood out from New York on May 20 and shaped a course for Cadiz and Gibraltar. The squadron had just reached the outer edge of the Gulf Stream off the Atlantic coast when a severe three-day tempest struck and scattered the ships, damaging the
Firefly
so much that she had to return to New York for repairs. When the storm abated, Decatur gathered up the rest of his fleet and continued on to Cadiz, reaching it in three weeks. After taking on supplies there, he headed for Tangier in Morocco. The American consul told him that two days before, Admiral Rais, head of the Algerian navy, stopped in Tangier with his big 46-gun flagship, the
Mashuda
. The news whetted Decatur’s appetite.
The American fleet pushed on to Gibraltar, with the commodore wondering how the British were going to treat him now that Napoleon was back in power. Despite Decatur’s apprehension, he was received cordially. At Madison’s request, the ministry agreed to allow American warships into British ports while engaged in the war with Algeria. Liverpool’s policy was not to antagonize the United States. Bathurst sent orders that the American navy was to be accorded “all the privileges to which the vessels of a nation in amity with this country are entitled.” Decatur was allowed to refit and resupply. Of course, the British officers who saw the name of his flagship
Guerriere
, and the names of his other ships like
Macedonian
and
Epervier
, were none too pleased.
Decatur did not remain long at Gibraltar. When he learned that Hammida and the
Mashuda
were off nearby Cape de Gatt, waiting to receive tribute from Spain, he raced out of port, and on June 17 he found the
Mashuda.
Hammida tried to get into Cartagena—a neutral port—but the American squadron blocked his way. Decatur brought the
Guerriere
close alongside the Algerian and unleashed two punishing broadsides, frightening the Algerian crew, who ran below. When he saw them disappearing, he ordered a cease-fire.
The lull allowed Decatur to deal with a terrible accident that had occurred when the
Guerriere
fired her first broadside. One of her double-shotted main deck guns burst, killing five men and badly wounding thirty others. Decatur blamed the tragedy on the lack of adequate inspection for new guns. His two broadsides appeared to have beaten the Algerians, however. Hammida had been killed, and his crew looked as if they were surrendering. They may have been initially, but they now tried to make a run for it. Lieutenant Downes in the
Epervier
alertly got on their starboard quarter, however, and unleashed nine broadsides, forcing them to surrender.
Decatur sent the
Mashuda
into Cartagena with a prize crew and 406 prisoners. Two days later, he captured another Algerian, the 22-gun brig
Estedio
, and also sent her into Cartagena. He then sailed for Algiers, arriving on June 28. Negotiations soon began on board the
Guerriere
. One of her passengers, William Shaler, the prospective American consul general at Algiers who had been appointed as a joint commissioner with Decatur and Bainbridge, carried on one-sided talks with the Algerians, who had a high appreciation of the power of the American squadron anchored in their harbor. Shaler and Decatur had no trouble dictating a peace. Within twenty-four hours the dey agreed to terms, which included the end of tribute, which had been paid by the United States since the treaty of 1796; the release of ten American prisoners; and the return to the dey of the two captured Algerine ships. Decatur wrote to Crowninshield that the treaty had “been dictated at the mouth of the cannon, has been conceded to the losses which Algiers has sustained, and to the dread of still greater evils apprehended; and I beg leave to express to you my opinion that the presence of a respectable naval force in this sea will be the only certain guarantee for its observance.”