But this was precisely what Liverpool proposed to do. He would settle for the status quo ante bellum, just as the Americans had been proposing right along. Until this point, Liverpool had been insisting on the principle of uti possidetis. The American commissioners had resolutely rejected that idea, and now Liverpool was ready to accept an entirely different territorial arrangement.
The way now appeared open for a quick settlement, but two important issues remained. The British wanted the right to freely navigate the Mississippi, which Henry Clay was adamantly opposed to. Liverpool also wanted to end America’s right—confirmed in the peace treaty of 1783—to fish within Newfoundland’s territorial waters and to cure fish onshore. John Quincy Adams strongly opposed giving up a right his father had doggedly insisted be part of the Treaty of Paris. The American negotiators argued among themselves through several tense meetings until Albert Gallatin worked out an agreement that Clay and Adams could live with. Liverpool then accepted it, although not before proposing an alternative that might have wrecked the negotiations.
The American commissioners offered Liverpool the alternative of having rights to the Mississippi and the fisheries (as of 1783) confirmed or left out of the treaty. Liverpool responded by offering to include both matters in the treaty in return for a boundary concession. The Americans would under no circumstances agree to boundary concessions, but they did suggest omitting from the treaty altogether any boundary claims, rights to navigation on the Mississippi, and fishing rights. The cabinet unexpectedly agreed, which meant that both sides would settle these potentially explosive matters later.
The final treaty was silent not only on the Mississippi question and the Newfoundland fisheries but on all maritime issues. The territorial settlement was simply a return to the status quo ante bellum. The parties promised to have “restored without delay” the territory occupied by each, except for the disputed islands in Passamaquoddy Bay. Their fate was left to a commission composed of two representatives, one from each side. If they could not agree, the dispute would be submitted for final resolution to a friendly sovereign or state. As to the boundary between Canada and Maine, two commissioners would decide that as well, along with the boundary between Canada and the Connecticut River. If the commissioners could not agree, the dispute would again be settled by a friendly sovereign or state. Two more commissioners would decide the boundary running through the rivers, lakes, and land communications between Canada and the United States, and if no agreement was reached, the questions would be decided by a friendly sovereign or state. The same commissioners would determine who owned the many islands in the lakes and rivers. Prizes taken at sea after ratification were to be restored and all prisoners repatriated.
So far as the Indians were concerned, Article 9 put an end to hostilities between the United States and all the tribes, provided the Indians ceased fighting. The Indians had no representation at the negotiations, and, not surprisingly, their interests were ignored. The British pretended to act on their behalf, but in the end they deserted them, as they had after the Revolutionary War and in the Jay Treaty. Since the tribes had been unable to unite, as Tecumseh wanted, they lost the war and the peace. They were left to suffer the brutal policies sure to be followed by the United States.
In Article 10 the parties agreed to stop the slave trade, which both considered “irreconcilable with the principles of humanity and justice.” In Article 1, however, the British acknowledged that slaves were private property and would be returned or compensation paid. London would never stoop to returning slaves, but after several years of wrangling, they did pay some compensation.
On December 22 Adams and his colleagues received confirmation that agreement had been reached on all matters, and the Treaty of Ghent was signed at the quarters of the British delegation on Christmas Eve. The diplomats from both countries celebrated the peace by having Christmas dinner together. Clay wrote to Monroe, “The terms of this instrument are undoubtedly not such as our country expected at the commencement of the war. Judged of however by the actual condition of things . . . they cannot be pronounced very unfavorable. We lose no territory, I think no honor.” John Quincy Adams wrote in his diary a “fervent prayer” that the peace “may be propitious to the welfare, the best interests, and the union of my country.”
WITHIN DAYS THE British public knew of the treaty, and there was widespread approval. The Courier reported, “Wherever . . . [the treaty] has been made known, it has produced great satisfaction, not merely because peace has been made, but because it has been made upon such terms.”
Not everyone liked the treaty, however. The Times repudiated it. The editors declared that “we have attempted to force our principles on America and have failed. Nay . . . we have retired from the combat with the stripes still bleeding on our backs—with the recent defeats at Plattsburgh, and on Lake Champlain unavenged. To make peace at such a moment . . . betrays a deadness to the feelings of honor, and shows a timidity of disposition, inviting further insult. If we could have pointed to America overthrown, we should surely stood on much higher ground at Vienna.” The following day, the Times contended that if the New Orleans invasion went badly for the British, Madison would “rejoice in adding to the indignities he has heaped upon us, that of refusing to ratify the treaty.” The editors believed, in spite of everything Madison had done to demonstrate the opposite, that he wanted to continue the war.
The Edinburgh Review, after being silent about the war for two years, declared that the British government had embarked on a war of conquest, after the American government had dropped its maritime demands, and the British had lost. It was folly to attempt to invade and conquer the United States. To do so would result in the same tragedy as the first war against them, and with the same result.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The Hartford Convention
THE VICTORIES AT Baltimore, Plattsburgh, and Fort Erie were perceived differently in Britain and America. The British public united in opposition to the war, while in America the old political divisions widened. On the one hand, Madison was buoyed by the outcome of the battles, and so were most Republicans. They now had hope that the country could defend itself against British aggression, which they assumed would continue. Federalists, on the other hand, not knowing what the reaction in Britain would be to the victories, were pessimistic about defending the country. They did not think the battles were important. They continued to believe the war would end in catastrophe. They wanted to settle quickly with London on generous terms, including giving up substantial territory. Madison wrote to Wilson Cary Nicholas, the governor of Virginia, “You are not mistaken in viewing the conduct of the Eastern States as the source of our greatest difficulties in carrying on the war, as it certainly is the greatest, if not the sole inducement with the enemy to persevere in it.”
The bitter disagreements between Republicans and Federalists that characterized the past were even more virulent when the president called the third and final session of the 13th Congress on September 19, 1814 (Congress normally convened in November or December). Madison wanted Congress back early to assure the country that the government was functioning and to secure more men and money for the war, which looked as if it would continue into 1815 and beyond. He expected Congress to find the resources to carry on when the war was more unpopular than ever and the government was essentially bankrupt. He was hoping Congress would change its ways. Its spineless members, after all, were responsible for the fiscal condition of the government. The Republican majority that consistently supported the war just as consistently refused to enact the tax legislation required to adequately fund it. The United States had more than enough resources, despite wartime disruptions, to support a much bigger war effort, but Congress refused to raise taxes in the amount required.
When members returned to Washington, the extent of the blackened ruins shocked them. The city had become even more dismal and depressing than it had been before. Reminders of Madison’s gross mismanagement of the war
were everywhere. Meetings had to be held in the only surviving public building—the Patent Office cum Post Office. Serious consideration was given to moving the capital back to Philadelphia.
The recent successes at Baltimore, Plattsburgh, and Fort Erie had offset, to some degree, the shock of defeat at Bladensburg and the burning of the capital, but few expected the victories would end Britain’s savage attacks. In his opening message to Congress Madison wrote, “We are compelled . . . by the principles and manner in which the war is now avowedly carried on, to infer that a spirit of hostility is indulged more violent than ever against . . . this country.” He accused the British of aiming “a deadly blow at our growing prosperity, perhaps at our national existence.”
The president saw little prospect for peace. He had not heard how negotiations were progressing at Ghent, but he was not sanguine about their success. He had to prepare the nation for continued sacrifice. The burning of Washington and the invasion of New England and New York had not brought the country together, as he had hoped. Instead, calls were being made by Federalists for a convention of New England states to possibly make a separate peace. Trafficking with the enemy had gotten worse, and desertions from the army and navy, after men had received substantial bonuses, was widespread. In spite of these unmistakable signs of the war’s growing unpopularity, Madison urged Congress to provide money and men for an extended conflict, something Congress had less stomach for than it had in the past.
As bleak as the situation appeared, it would have been far worse if the British had succeeded at Baltimore, Plattsburgh, and Fort Erie. The successes of American arms in these battles and General Jackson against the Creeks offset, in the president’s mind, the galling defeat at Bladensburg and the failure to defend Washington. “On our side,” he wrote, “we can appeal to a series of achievements which have given new luster to the American arms.”
The recent success of American arms had led Madison and Monroe to believe they could successfully invade Canada again and end the war in 1815. The Republican Congress, however, reflecting the mood of the country, was aghast at the notion. Federalists had always been opposed to invading Canada, and Republican support for another attempt had drastically declined. The British now had 30,000 regulars in Canada, and, as far as anyone knew, more were coming. The Royal Navy completely dominated America’s coast, and there was every reason to believe it would eventually take back Lake Erie and even Lake Champlain. Admiral Yeo’s giant battleship would soon establish supremacy on Lake Ontario.
It was not surprising that when the administration proposed increasing the army to 100,000, Congress rebelled. Madison assured members that the citizenry would “cheerfully and proudly bear every burden of every kind which the safety and honor of the nation demand,” but no one took him seriously. He proposed strengthening the regular army, rather than the militias, which had proven costly and ineffective. At the moment, the regular army had about 40,000 men; its authorized strength was 62,500. On October 17 Monroe requested that Congress raise the regular army to 100,000. Believing the army actually had 30,000, not 40,000, he requested 30,000 more regulars and 40,000 volunteers, bringing the effective total to 100,000. He also called for a conscription plan to obtain the additional regulars.
Given the government’s fiscal condition, these numbers appeared wildly unrealistic. And when Congress realized that this massive new army was for another invasion of Canada, Monroe’s requests found little support. As they had throughout the war, New England Federalists vehemently opposed invading Canada. They saw no reason to increase the army or to institute something as foreign to America as conscription. It was also hard for Republicans to see the urgency of a huge increase in spending to make another invasion of Canada. After haggling for weeks and then months, a divided Congress passed legislation late in January that authorized the president to accept 40,000 volunteers into the army and an additional 40,000 state militiamen to serve for twelve months. The militiamen, however, could be used only to defend their own state or an adjoining state. Approval of their governors was necessary before they could be used anywhere else. Madison reluctantly signed the bill on January 27, 1815. All the Federalists from New England voted against it. By this measure, Congress unmistakably vetoed any invasion of Canada. In spite of this clear signal, and Congress’s strict guidelines, Monroe continued to plan to invade in the spring of 1815.
Raising more money proved to be as intractable a problem as obtaining more men for the army. “The Congress have met in a bad temper,” Secretary Jones wrote to Madison, “grumbling at everything in order to avert the responsibility which they have incurred in refusing to provide the solid foundation for revenue and relying on loans. They have suffered the specie to go out of the country, adopted a halfway system of taxation, refused or omitted to establish in due time a national bank, and yet expect the war to be carried on with energy.”
Madison hoped a new Treasury secretary could help solve the country’s financial crisis. On September 26, just after Congress convened, the Senate approved the appointment of Philadelphia banker Alexander Dallas. He replaced George W. Campbell, the former senator from Tennessee, who was more than happy to be leaving. He had held office since February, but it seemed more like a lifetime. Trying to fund a war that Republicans voted for but would not finance wore him down. Campbell had replaced Secretary Jones, who held the position, along with his post at the Navy Department, on a temporary basis after Gallatin left.
Secretary Dallas lost no time in telling Congress what he thought about the country’s desperate financial condition. He wrote a frank letter to Congressman John W. Eppes, the Republican chairman of the House Ways and Means Committee and Thomas Jefferson’s son-in-law. Dallas told Eppes something Eppes already knew and approved of, namely, that the wealth of the nation was vast but remained “almost untouched by the hand of government.” For small-government Republicans like Eppes and Jefferson, this was to be applauded, not condemned. In fact, they believed the country’s prosperity was directly attributable to a dearth of taxation. For Dallas, however, the war, which the Republicans supported, necessitated extensive taxation to pay for it, something many Republicans found incompatible with their philosophy of government.
Dallas believed that borrowing to pay for the war had brought the country to the point of bankruptcy. “Contemplating the present state of the finances,” he wrote, “it is obvious that a deficiency in the revenue and a deprecation in the public credit exist from causes which cannot in any degree be ascribed either to the want of resources or to the want of integrity in the nation.... The most operative [causes] have been the inadequacy of our system of taxation to form a foundation for public credit; and the absence even from that system of the means which are best adapted to anticipate, collect, and distribute public revenues.”
To meet the immediate need for money, Dallas recommended raising taxes on duties, imposts, and excises, and the creation of a national bank, with capital of $50 million, 40 percent of which would come from the government and 60 percent from private sources. The bank would be authorized to loan the government up to $30 million. It would provide a circulating medium (national currency) for the country, whose commerce at the moment was threatened by lack of any adequate circulating medium as a result of the suspension of specie payment by state-chartered banks.
Eppes and many other Republicans opposed Dallas’s request for more taxes and a national bank. Jefferson and his followers in Congress, like Eppes, believed Congress should pay for the war by issuing promissory notes—that is, paper money, not backed by specie. Monroe liked the idea, but Dallas was adamantly opposed, and so was Madison.
The off-and-on debate in Congress on how to fund the war went on for weeks. No happy solution appeared. As talk continued, the financial condition of the country deteriorated. The situation was so desperate that the navy was running months behind on its bills and could not even pay its seamen on time.
To meet urgent current expenses, Congress authorized Dallas t
o issue $10 million in Treasury notes and borrow $3 million. But Dallas could not raise the $3 million. He estimated that nearly $41 million would be necessary to fund the war through 1815. Weeks passed while Congress debated what to do. In the end it imposed some taxes, including $6 million in direct taxes. The total in taxes was almost $14 million—far less than what was required. At the same time, Congress refused to pass the president’s national bank. After weeks of talk, it passed a bank bill so different from the one Dallas thought was needed that Madison vetoed it.
On October 8, while the president and Congress were wrestling with the problems of finance and defense, George Dallas (Alexander’s son) arrived from Ghent with the first dispatches on the state of the negotiations. They shocked the president. British demands were arrogant and so outrageous that no hope existed for ending the war. Two days later, Madison sent the dispatches to Congress, and the Republican members were as incensed as the president. They distributed the dispatches throughout the country, which brought loud condemnation everywhere, except from hard-line New England Federalists. Even Federalists in the South and West were angry at British demands. Madison thought the dispatches made it more urgent than ever for Congress to act on his requests for a larger army and a sounder fiscal policy, but Congress continued to drag its feet. By then, it was widely known that the British were likely to invade New Orleans, yet Congress remained too deeply divided to act.
Not only did Madison need money to fund the army, but he wanted a major expansion of the navy as well. Secretary Jones was not adverse to strengthening the navy, but he thought that invading Canada again was a huge mistake. He carried out the president’s orders, of course, but he thought it was wrongheaded for the United States to continue the arms race on Lake Ontario. Money was a problem, but lack of men and weapons was an even greater one. Jones warned that he would be forced to shift men and munitions from the seacoast to the lake. And even if he did, he did not believe they would be enough. He predicted the effort on the lake would “lock up all our disposable seamen, and thus free . . . [Britain’s] commerce from depredation on the ocean, his flag from further humiliation, and expose our maritime frontier to incalculable vexation and pillage in consequence of the absence of our seamen on the lakes.”
1812: The Navy's War Page 47