I’ve been guest-blogging at Andrew Sullivan’s place this week where, somewhat to my surprise, I ended up refighting the War of 1812 with Jonathan Rauch. I meant to post this here earlier but forgot, so here it is now.
My word, that jackanape Jonathan Rauch does severely provoke me. First blogging, now the War of 1812. I surmise he aspires to nincompoop status.
The War of 1812, upon which many American myths now seem to depend, was a foolish and futile enterprise from the start, rested on a policy of ignorance and needless aggression, and was founded on the erroneous assumption that Napoleon Bonaparte would prevail in the epic, global struggle of which the War of 1812 was but a minor sideshow. By its end even President Madison had recognised its folly: dispatching a mission to europe in 1814 to sue for peace.
Granted, the United States found itself in an awkward position, trapped between the warring alliances led by Britain and France. The economic war between the two would, eventually, help decide the issue. It was Russia’s withdrawal from the Continental System that provoked Napoleon’s ill-fated invasion. Meanwhile, an unbeknownst to Madison, Britain had relaxed its Orders in Council, loosening restrictions on American shipping trading overseas. Since this was the proximate cause for the war, the enterprise was launched to solve a problem that had already, in fact, been solved.
Not that these American grievances were the whole story by any means. Madison and Jefferson had eyes on British North America. “Providence” said Jefferson, “has placed their richest and most defenceless possessions at our door”. They assumed the conquest of Canada (as it now is) would be a simple, rapid affair. This view would be contradicted by events.
Jonathan, quoting Steven Budiansky, writes:
“The odds were worse than ridiculous: 1042 British naval vessels against (ready?) 20 U.S. ships armed with 524 guns, “in other words, half as many guns as the Royal Navy had ships.” Yet despite that, and despite domestic political divisions and a passel of incompetent generals, the U.S. fought Britain to a standstill—at sea, no less, where Britain was strongest.”
This is ridiculous. As mentioned, the Royal Navy was busy dealing with Napoleonic France. The Navy had squadrons stationed across the globe. Relatively few of them, even during the war, were sent to the North American station. Even so, the Royal Navy won an overwhelming strategic victory.
Early American successes at sea certainly caused great consternation in Britain. They owed something to American naval proficiency but also to the fact that a 24-pounder heavy frigate should, more often than not, best an opponent armed with 18-pound guns. Nevertheless, it was also the case that some British ships on the West Indies station were in less-fine fettle than they might have been. After the brig-sloop Peacock had been bested by the American ship-sloop Hornet in February 1813, a court-martial condemned a “want of skill in directing the fire, owing to an omission of the practice of exercising the crew in the use of the guns for the last three years“.
Sir John Borlase Warren, the new commander of the North American station, was not supplied with sufficient ships to mount a total blockade. Accordingly American privateers enjoyed themselves with British merchant shipping in the West Indies and for a short time insurance rates rose by 30%. On the other hand, Canadian and Bermudan privateers seriously disrupted American inter-state trade, forcing New England insurance rates to rise by 75%.
Nevertheless, the idea that the American navy, admirably though it often performed, “fought Britain to a standstill” won’t wash. Cockburn and Cochrane enjoyed the freedom of the Chesapeake, unmolested by any significant American counter-measures. That was but one demonstration of American impotence.
As N.A.M. Rodger, the pre-eminent naval historian of our time, puts it:
“After the summer of 1813 the US Navy’s opportunities were nearly gone. Only small warships still managed to get to sea, with fewer and fewer successes. Decatur’s frigates were laid up at New London. The Essex cruised successfully against British whalers in the remote Pacific until early 1814, but she was the last American warship of any size at sea. In June 1814 Isaac Hull, now commanding Portsmouth Navy Yard, was told by the Secretary of the Navy that it was not worth defending as the ships were now valueless. The President escaped from New York in January 1815 but was captured within a few hours.”
In other words, the Americans won a number of small tactical victories but utterly lost, as was to be expected, the strategic battle. There’s little shame in that even if the usual boosterism demands that history be rewritten to pretend this was not what had happened.
Meanwhile, thanks to Madison’s embargo upon trade with the enemy (a trade upon which many Americans depended) US exports fell from $45m in 1811 to $7m in 1814, the consequence of the British blockade and widespread smuggling from New England ports. By this time, the reopening of european markets meant Britain was no longer so dependent upon American grain to feed Wellington’s army in the Iberian Peninsular. This being so, and with the failure to conquer Canada, the American situation was becoming perilous, Andrew Jackson’s victory in New Orleans notwithstanding. (A victory that, in any case, came after Madison sued for peace but before word had returned with the result of those successful negotiations.)
Nor, for that matter, did the Americans “pioneer” asymmetric warfare a concept that had existed for several hundred years. Even if one restricts the definition to asymmetric warfare at sea, the Dutch and British got there first by several decades if not, in fact, a couple of centuries.
Nevermind. It’s the myth that matters isn’t it? The principle consequences of this ill-founded adventure – which risked disaster for the Americans – were dreadful for the poor, ill-fated American Indians and the Federalist party which, wisely, had opposed Madison and Jefferson’s madcap scheme. Other parties benefitted too: the border between Canada and the United States was secured for the long-term which was good (and the Americans never tried to invade again) while relations between Britain and the United States also improved. They had only suffered because of Napoleon, however, and with more patience and prudence (and less greed for territory) the war could have been avoided in the first place.
Still in some sense the Americans could claim they “made their mark” on the international scene (albeit in a tiresome sideshow) and this might, I suppose, be enough to vindicate their actions. But this seems a generous definition of victory. Britain lost nothing in a war that was forced upon it by American foolishness. Indeed, by securing Canada both Britain and the Canucks won.
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