With so few ships, the U.S. Navy had no hope of either neutralizing its British counterpart or halting British maritime traffic, though it proved to be far more than an annoyance, and Decatur and his fellow captains had partners who inflicted great damage on the enemy’s merchant fleet. These were the privateers. One British naval historian titles his essay on American privateers during the War of 1812 “War as Business.” Privateers were privately owned vessels authorized by governmental bodies to act as warships and—this is the key part—were permitted to retain profits derived from what was essentially legalized pirating. With their strong maritime heritage, the coastal states of America embraced privateering with a vengeance. More than 526 vessels were commissioned during the war. Among the most famous private warships were those built in Baltimore, whose well-designed schooners were admired for both their speed and their beauty.
American privateers sailed in quest of profit and did very well, especially early in the war. Captured British merchant ships totaled 1,444 (the British historian cited above says the number is “nearly 1350”), while the U.S. Navy took a further 254, both warships and merchantmen. True, nearly half of these were recaptured. But the impact of the combined privateer and naval operations against British ships was substantial. Why else did Liverpool merchants in September 1814 censure the Admiralty, claiming that eight hundred vessels from their port alone had been lost?
For the first few months of the war the Admiralty, Britain’s naval high command, acted cautiously. The admiral in charge of the fleet’s North American station, Sir John Borlase Warren, even put out peace feelers, which, owing to America’s views regarding impressment, came to nothing. Warren then was instructed to neutralize American warships. This was to be accomplished either by keeping them in port or by destroying them should they escape. He also was ordered to prevent American merchant ships from sailing. Thus Warren was to employ the tactic that had worked well against the French: the blockade.
In doing so he confronted several difficulties. To start with, the American coastline was nineteen hundred miles long. Then there were the winds—prevailing westerlies that made station keeping difficult. And Halifax, home port for his ships, was isolated and not particularly well equipped. Moreover, Sir John did not have command of a sufficient number of ships. The bulk of Britain’s fleet was deployed to the Mediterranean or in home waters.
Nevertheless, Warren did as instructed and instituted the blockade. Initially, New England was exempt (as previously mentioned, Wellington’s army needed American grain). So too was the American South. But gradually, as the war progressed, coverage was extended. By late 1814, when Napoleon no longer was a threat, Royal Navy ships were to be found in waters from Maine to Louisiana. Essentially, they crippled America’s merchant fleet. By September 1813, 245 vessels were laid up in Boston. In 1805, 250 ships had been registered in Salem. A decade later, the number had fallen to 57. In 1812, there were 45 privateers built in Baltimore. In 1814 only 8 were constructed. The Royal Navy’s blockade did not prevent all American ships from sailing, but vessels flying the Stars and Stripes at sea no longer were found in large number. In addition, the blockade caused a loss of revenues, which was serious, as Madison’s government depended on customs fees.
The blockade was directed not just at commercial vessels. Warren targeted warships as well. Here too the blockade was effective. The Constellation never put to sea. The Macedonian, now an American ship, and the Hornet were quickly chased back to port. The President escaped, but soon was caught by British warships and forced to surrender. However, the USS Argus of sixteen guns made a successful cruise in the summer of 1813, capturing twenty British merchant ships. The USS Enterprise, also of sixteen guns, later took HMS Boxer, while on June 28, 1814, the new American sloop Wasp prevailed over HMS Reindeer.
Such victories notwithstanding, the Royal Navy’s blockade kept most American ships tied up in port. The blockade was a signal feature of the War of 1812. Apparently, Britannia still ruled the waves.
Though not on the Great Lakes.
On March 27, 1813, a young American naval officer reached Lake Erie. Assigned the task of assembling a squadron of ships, he did so most effectively, aided by three master shipwrights: Daniel Dobbins and the Brown brothers, Noah and Adam. Together they built three brigs and several schooners. The strategic objective was to control the waters of the lake, for he who controlled Lake Erie controlled the Northwestern territories of both the United States and Canada.
In late summer, the young officer took his ships to sea in search of the enemy. Like the Americans, the British had been busy constructing ships. The two sides clashed on September 10, 1813. The Americans triumphed, and the young officer, Oliver Hazard Perry, sent his memorable message to General William Henry Harrison: “We have met the enemy and they are ours.”
Perry’s victory on Lake Erie was soon matched on land. With nothing to fear from the British, Perry transported Harrison’s army of thirty-five hundred men across Lake Erie onto Canadian soil, where, on October 5, the future American president defeated the British at Moraviantown along the River Thames. This too was a significant victory. It demonstrated that an American army could prevail in battle. It demoralized a large number of Native Americans who had chosen the British side of the conflict and also removed the possibility of a Native American buffer state. And, although Harrison’s troops eventually withdrew, it cemented American dominance in the Northwest.
The United States did less well on Lake Ontario. As on Lake Erie, control of the lake’s water was critical to military success. Why? Because the land was such that transport by water was the only practical way to move supplies and men.
In harbors along the shoreline, both sides built ships. But Isaac Chauncey, the American naval commander, and Sir James Yeo, his Royal Navy counterpart, were cautious men. Neither seemed willing to risk a decisive battle. So they sparred, with success eluding them both. Chauncey did undertake a successful raid on the capital of Upper Canada, York (now the city of Toronto), where army troops, contrary to orders, burned the parliament building (considered bad form by the standards of the day). Sir James conducted a less successful raid against Chauncey’s base of operations at Sackets Harbor. Yet neither side, despite considerable activity, was able to secure control of the lake.
On land in 1813, save for Moraviantown and the defense of Fort George in May, British forces fared better than the Americans. They won at Frenchtown, Stoney Creek, Beaver Dam, and Fort Niagara. And while the Americans beat off a British attack on Fort Meigs, an outpost south of Lake Erie, they suffered high losses: four hundred men were killed and six hundred taken prisoner.
Nowhere was the superiority of British forces on land in 1813 more evident than farther east. There, along the St. Lawrence River, two battles occurred. The British won both of them. Late in 1813, the largest force assembled by the Americans during the war, eleven thousand men, invaded Canada at two locations along the river. Their target was Montreal. If the city could be taken, the war might end and the United States, despite reversals on land and sea, might claim victory.
Major General Wade Hampton’s force came north from Plattsburgh. Farther west Major General James Wilkinson, the senior American officer on the northern frontier, crossed into Canada. Theirs was to be a coordinated attack. Conceptually, the plan was sound. Its execution was not. Neither general appeared equal to his task and both suffered defeat. Hampton lost at Châteauguay. Wilkinson was beaten at Crysler’s Farm. Canadians remember the former because British troops were not present. Only Canadians fought the intruders. Hardly anyone remembers Crysler’s Farm, though it put a stop to the most serious threat to Canada the British faced throughout the war.
At sea in 1813, the fortunes of the Royal Navy improved. Its vessels now escorted merchant ships in convoys (as they would much later in two world wars), reducing losses to enemy privateers and warships. It conducted raids within the Chesapeake Bay that were
intended to—and did—alarm the population and keep American men and material from being sent to Canada. But to the officers of the fleet, the most satisfying event of 1813 was the victory they long had sought over an American frigate. Stung by the successes of the Constitution and the United States and by the actions of smaller American warships, the Royal Navy desperately was seeking a victory at sea.
On June 1, 1813, the USS Chesapeake, a frigate of thirty-eight guns, departed Boston Harbor. She was a fine ship, with a brave captain, James Lawrence. But her crew was inexperienced, and she went up against one of the most capable frigates in Britain’s navy. HMS Shannon, also of thirty-eight guns, was captained by Philip Broke, who knew his trade exceptionally well. He had commanded Shannon for seven years and had trained his crew hard, especially in gunnery. The battle took place in the early afternoon and lasted but eleven minutes. Shannon triumphed, pulverizing Chesapeake. Lawrence was killed and the severely wounded Broke became a national hero.
For Great Britain more good news was on the horizon. In May 1814, Napoleon abdicated. This freed up military resources for the war in America. The army received fourteen regiments from Wellington’s forces in Europe (the duke himself declined the offer to command the army in Canada). The navy in North America received additional ships. As importantly, it received a new commander. Admiral Sir Alexander Cochrane replaced Warren. Cochrane intended to act aggressively. “I have it much to heart,” he wrote, “to give them a complete drubbing before peace is made.”
Cochrane was true to his word. He extended the Royal Navy’s blockade to New England. He ordered the seizure of coastal towns in Maine. And he directed Sir George Cockburn to attack America via the Chesapeake Bay. All of these actions were in support of the principal British effort of 1814: an invasion of the United States from the north. The strategic goal was to inflict such damage upon the Americans that the results of the inevitable peace agreement would be highly favorable to Great Britain.
The Americans understood that with Napoleon gone the British would be able to marshal considerable military resources. They therefore planned to act before these resources could be deployed. And they decided to do what they had done before: invade Canada.
This time, there would be a difference.
In command of the invading force was Major General Jacob Brown, whose force numbered approximately three thousand, divided into two brigades, one commanded by Winfield Scott, the other by Eleazer Ripley. These three gentlemen knew how to fight and were not reluctant to do so. Gone were the likes of Hull, Dearborn, Wilkinson, and Hampton. Brown’s army was well trained, and when on July 15, 1814, it met the British at Chippawa in Upper Canada near the Niagara River, the Americans emerged victorious.
Jacob Brown then halted his troops, awaiting support form Commodore Chauncey. With naval assistance, Brown intended to push the British off the lands separating Lake Ontario from Lake Erie. But Chauncey, ever cautious, stopped at Sackets Harbor. This left Brown with insufficient means to continue. So, prudently, he moved his men back to a place called Lundy’s Lane, not far from Chippawa.
On July 25, the two armies clashed again. The battle was hard fought and Brown was wounded, as were 572 of his men. His dead numbered 170. The British lost 84 killed and 559 wounded. Both sides had more than 100 soldiers missing. The Americans fought extremely hard and considered the outcome a victory. So did the British. But, as Jacob Brown withdrew to Fort Erie, the British claim seems more convincing.
On the day of the Battle at Lundy’s Lane forty-five hundred British soldiers, led by Major General Robert Ross, arrived in Bermuda. They were to be the sharp end of the sword that Admirals Cochrane and Cockburn planned to wield in the Chesapeake Bay. By mid-August Ross was in the Bay. On August 19, he and his troops landed at the mouth of the Patuxent River. They proceeded northward and five days later met a hastily assembled American force at Bladensburg, in Maryland. The result was a rout. The American soldiers were mostly militia and they were no match for Ross’s veterans.
That night the British entered Washington. Madison and his government had fled the city. The invaders burned several buildings, including the presidential mansion (which, when repainted to cover the scars of the fire, became quite white). This was in retaliation for the fires set by Americans in York. The next day the British withdrew, quite pleased with what they had accomplished.
But the Patuxent was not the only river on which the British sailed. A smaller force had also navigated the Potomac. South of the American capital, they exchanged gunfire with the Americans at Fort Washington and took twenty-one vessels from the docks of Alexandria. By September, this expedition too had returned to the Chesapeake.
Ross and Cochrane then planned a joint operation against Baltimore. As the city was home to American privateers, the two commanders deemed it a most worthy target. The navy would bombard the town while the army would test its defenses. If all went well, they would attack in force. On September 12, Ross landed troops at North Point. They soon engaged the Americans, and won, but the major general was among the 46 of his soldiers killed. The Americans suffered 163 casualties. The navy did its part. With guns and rockets Cochrane’s ships shelled Fort McHenry at the entrance to the harbor. The bombardment was extensive. But at dawn the American flag still flew. Further assaults seemed unwise, so the British withdrew. They left on September 15, 1814. The soldiers went south to the Caribbean. The sailors went north to Halifax.
Were the British expeditions within the Chesapeake a success? In one sense, they were. Twice the British army defeated its American counterparts, at Bladensburg and North Point. It also humiliated the Americans by marching through the streets of Washington. The Royal Navy did its part as well. It sailed the waters of Chesapeake Bay at will and made its presence known at Baltimore. Moreover, together the British army and navy severely frightened the local populations of Virginia and Maryland.
But after doing all this, the British left. There was no follow-up and little lasting impact, save an American national anthem and a coat of paint for the presidential mansion. Shortly after General Ross and his troops left Washington, Madison and his government returned to the city and continued on as before.
The British attacks along the Maine coast had more staying power. Early in September Lieutenant General Sir John Sherbrooke took two thousand British regulars to the mouth of the Penobscot River. There, without much resistance, they occupied several towns. They also caused the Americans to burn the small frigate Adams, then, thirty miles upriver, to prevent its capture. The territory of Maine jutted up between Nova Scotia and Lower Canada. This made communication and travel between the two provinces difficult. Sherbrooke hoped that if they held a few coastal areas, the land would be ceded to Great Britain once the war ended. That, of course, did not happen, and in April 1815, the British departed. That they ever were there is now mostly forgotten.
But it was in neither Maine nor the Chesapeake where the British made their major move of 1814. That came near Lake Champlain, when an army of 10,351 men invaded the United States. This was the most powerful force Great Britain assembled during the entire conflict. It hoped to accomplish what John Burgoyne had failed to do in 1777: thrash the Americans in upstate New York and separate New England from the rest of the country.
In command of this army was Lieutenant General Sir George Prevost. He was the civilian governor of all of Canada as well as its senior military official. So far he had performed both jobs quite well. His most important task had been to hold Canada for the Crown, and he had done so. True, the Americans had invaded often, but whether they had won or lost in battle, they invariably returned to American soil. Prevost’s conduct had earned the approval of the duke of Wellington. So when he led his soldiers across the border on September 1, 1814, expectations were high.
Five days later he and his army entered Plattsburgh, a little town in New York State, on the shores of Lake Champlain. Opposing his veteran troops wa
s a small American force numbering about fifteen hundred. Prevost did not attack immediately. He waited for the navy to finish building and outfitting ships so that a combined land-sea assault could be made on the American defenders. This was not a bad decision. The problem was that he did not wait long enough.
As the British were assembling a small fleet for service on the lake, so too were the Americans. Commanding the American effort was another young naval officer, Thomas Macdonough. Aided by the same Brown brothers who had built vessels for Oliver Hazard Perry, Macdonough put together a small squadron led by the Saratoga of twenty-six guns.
Soon, however, Prevost became anxious to start, so he ordered the British naval commander to attack. Despite not being ready for battle, the officer did so, on Sunday, September 11. The result was a brief but bloody effort. The Americans had 52 men killed and 58 wounded. Comparable British losses were 54 and 116. When the guns went silent Macdonough had won.
The Americans now controlled Lake Champlain. This made difficult further moves south by Prevost. Yet his army was intact and still capable of inflicting serious damage on the Americans. But Sir George, a cautious man, decided to return to Canada. He and his army marched north. A Canadian military historian terms Prevost’s expedition a fiasco.
America at War: Concise Histories of U.S. Military Conflicts From Lexingtonto Afghanistan Page 5