The War of 1812 and the Struggle for Political Permanency


The War of 1812 and the Struggle for Political Permanency
From Roger Brown's Republic in Peril: 1812 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1964), pp 177-191.

ROGER H. BROWN


Deeply and bitterly divided we went to war in 1812. Public demonstrations across the nation showed the split in opinion. Illuminations, parades, and cannon-firing welcomed the decision; tolling church bells, flags at half-mast, and empty shops and counting houses bore witness to condemnation. Federalists in the city of Providence, Rhode Island, set church bells slowly ringing, and Republicans countered with cannon and recruiting drums. Sailors in Boston harbor fought off a Federalist boarding party after their Republican captain refused demands to lower his flag to half-mast. Republican "huzzas and acclarnations" at a Philadelphia coffee house greeted a public reading of the war resolution; Federalist "hissers" were told to take their business elsewhere, "that they must not now consider this as a British Coffeehouse; henceforth it must be and shall be, an American Coffee-house.' ' Editorial opinion was also divided along party lines. Federalist journals denounced the "dreadful tidings," and reported: "Dissatisfaction, disgust, and apprehensions of the most alarming nature have seized on every mind." This "overwhelming calamity-so much dreaded by many-so little expected by the community at large" had at last taken place. Republican editors were exultant. "War, long expected, long demanded by an indignant nation, comes now, gloriously, in place of base, infamous, abject submission." No "true American" could read the President's summons to war "without feeling an honest and implicit confidence in the truth and justice of the great cause in which his country is engaged." Were these fellow citizens of a common country?

Experienced observers would not have been surprised at such responses. Ever since the early 1790s when Republicans first organized against the Hamiltonian program the two parties had clashed on practically every measure brought forward. The constant conflict evoked gloomy predictions from contemporaries. "The prejudices and self will of parties and party men to support principles and measures right or wrong if it is brought forward by their political friends has appeared to me for some time very dangerous," warned the New York Republican, Thomas Sammons. Federalists and Republicans "have each in turn supported and opposed the same acts and measures with but few exceptions-no reformation appears to take place, every one is just, all parties are right at Least in their own opinion." Would this not lead to ultimate disaster? The "internal heat of parties may raise to burn-as by a continual rubbing of two pieces of timber the heat encreases till fire proceeds and often consumes the timber."

Party suspicion and animosity cut deep into local affairs. Federalists and Republicans in Newburyport, Massachusetts, libeled each other in party newspapers, organized separate marine insurance companies, and avoided all possible social contact; their ladies even refused to call on the wives of

rival partisans. Federalist and Republican householders in nearby Salem had homes in different neighborhoods, and their rival news sheets and banking corporations reflected deep-grained suspicions that barred men from common enterprises. Feeling in this town ran so high that in 1799 the Republican Crowninshields boycotted the funeral of a relative who had married the famous Federalist merchant, Elias Hasket Derby. In 1802 Federalists officially excluded leading Republican families from the dancing assembly, that "tcrowning glory of the social season." Time had not played tricks on the memory of New Hampshire's William Plumer when he recalled in 1818 how in the former era the "spirit of party ran high, divided families, neighborhoods, towns & states; and, blind to public interest, embittered the sweets of social life, and hazarded the rights of the nation.

Was there any truth in these conceptions, or were they wholly mistaken? Some Federalists remained skeptical of republicanism. Alexander Hamilton, as we have seen, harbored life-long doubts on this score: "It is yet to be determined by experience whether [republicanism] be consistent with that stability and order in government which are essential to public strength and private security and happiness." George Cabot of Massachusetts deemed it impossible to have good government in America because any "government altogether popular in form tends irresistibly to place in power the levellers of public authority, order, and law." But this does not necessarily prove that these men plotted to subvert the state. It has never been established that Hamilton conspired at any time to destroy the government. As late as 1802 he could write to Gouverneur Morris of his continuing efforts "to prop the frail and worthless fabric." Charles Carroll of Carrollton, a Maryland Federalist leader, in 1800 denied that anyone in his party plotted monarchy and declared that these Republican "declaimers in favor of freedom & equality act in such a questionable shape I cannot help suspecting their sincerity.

True, after 1800 a few Federalists conspired to bring about secession and establishment of a northern confederacy. But they had a scant following ... Not until 1814 did Federalist leaders convene at Hartford to air griev ances and formally draft a program for reform. It is difficult to determine just what kind of government Federalist secessionists would have established had they been able to have their way-suffrage limited to substantial property holders, possibly a senate and executive for life. No one ever actually sought to establish hereditary forms, much less the Hanoverian restoration that Governor Elbridge Gerry of Massachusetts feared....

What of the Republican leaders whom the Federalists believed to be irresponsible, ambitious demagogues? No important leader, except for Aaron Burr, comes close to this stereotype. If either Jefferson or Madison were cynical self-servers, then an entire generation of historians and biographers have totally misread the record. The Clintons, Samuel Smith, William Branch Giles, and Michael Leib have traditionally worn the label, but much evidence points to their integrity of motive. William Plumer, a candidate for governor of New Hampshire in 1812, probably spoke for most Republican leaders when he claimed a higher commitment than mere personal ambition: "The result of the election, to me, appears doubtful and uncertain-and if I could separate myself from the cause I should feel little anxiety on the subject." The New Hampshire politician had ambition, but it was to serve an interest larger than himself. Wilson Cary Nicholas in 1808 put the matter in a nutshell: "Our sole object is the public good, the greater the pressure the more merit in saving the republic, let us my friend do our duty and I have no doubt all will be right. At all events we shall have the satisfaction of knowing that any disaster that may befall our Country cannot be ascribed to us or our measures."

Republican and Federalist views of party opposites are largely false. Both parties grossly distorted rival intentions and motives into wild parodies of the truth. Why? How does one explain this blindness and misunderstanding? ... Part of the answer lies in irrational motives of fear. Federalists harbored deep fears of mass disorders led by unscrupulous demagogues. Republicans feared the propensity of men in office to grasp greater and more permanent power for themselves. . . . As late as 1840 survivors of these party struggles remained convinced of the correctness of their suspicions. "We still know aged men," wrote an historian in that year, "who firmly believe that all the federal party were identical with the Tories of the revolution, and others who associate their democratic opponents with the Jacobins of France." . . .

More fundamental was a personal inexperience with political parties that encouraged men to identify opponents with their fears. There was no personal knowledge of parties such as we know them today-organizations that seek to gain political power but also remain firmly committed to the national welfare and institutions. Eighteenth-century political thought extolled the blessings of the harmonious commonwealth and condemned sustained, organized party activity. A generation reared in this tradition instinctively presumed prolonged opposition to rest on selfish, even traitorous, motives. Furthermore, as the history of former republics revealed, parties in their pursuit of power had characteristically ignored the common good. Their paralyzing squabbles and treasonable intrigues had led to the downfall of these republics. It was against the evil of party activity that Washington, in the famous Farewell Address, had warned his countrymen against "the spirit of party." In governments "of the popular character, in Governments purely elective, it is a spirit not to be encouraged." Distrust of parties explained Jefferson's remark that it would be the "bitterest" day of his life when he became convinced of the permanence of political parties. If Republicans and Federalists had lived through and witnessed an epoch in which parties had proven themselves equally devoted to the national welfare and institutions, they would have been far less susceptible to such wild distortions. But their experience, derived as it was from history and the factional contests of the colonial period, gave them no reason to believe in the highmindedness of opponents; if anything, it gave them positive reason to believe the contrary.

Republicans in 1812 feared that submission would gravely weaken public confidence in republicanism. Repeated negotiation and commercial restrictions caused, as Calhoun put it, "distrust at home and contempt abroad." Was it true that Americans had actually begun to mistrust their republican government? ... Hamilton remained consistently skeptical, and, by the end of the 1790s when Federalists found themselves challenged by the Republican mob, others joined him. In the Jeffersonian period Republicans began to have doubts. William Jarvis, a Boston leader, admitted in 1808 that if the American people did not support the administration and obey the embargo, then "we must with reluctance admit a doubt of the stability of republican institutions." John McKim, Jr., the Baltimore leader, wrote Henry Clay in 1812 that if the government now gave way to the Orders in Council "we may as well give up our Republican Government and have a Despot to rule over us. " . . .

True, one can also find brave avowals of confidence in the future destiny of republicanism.... John C. Calhoun was optimistic on the subject of the strength of the government and in 1813 affirmed his resolve to advance the war effort, despite Federalist menaces and threats of disunion. "I speak personally. I by no means dispair of the destiny of our nation or government. National greatness and perfection are of slow growth, often checked often to appearance destroyed. The intelligence, the virtue and the tone of public sentiment are too great in this country to permit its freedom to be destroyed by either domestic or foreign foes."

Calhoun's faith, however, had not always been so high. After all, he had worried in the spring of 1812 that the war might fail and that failure would cause "the greatest injury to the character of the government." Edward Fox, the Philadelphia Republican, took a very gloomy view of the future of republicanism. Continued factional strife would surely lead men to agree to "any change" that "will promise quiet and tranquillity." Still, he knew that others were less pessimistic. "I know it is a maxim with you," he wrote to Jonathan Roberts, the Pennsylvania congressman, "not to dispair of the Commonwealth." Confidence obviously varied among individuals and rose and fell with passing events.

It is difficult to estimate the extent to which the public at large had come to doubt the efficacy of their government. There are occasional letters from citizens which suggest the beginning of a trend. An obscure Virginian told James Monroe that "the Predictions of the Tories, seems as Though they were now coming to Pass, to wit, that our republic could endure, for a short time only; for want of Internal stability, or virtue amongst our Rulers." . . . The Philadelphia Aurora, an outspoken critic of Republican pusillanimity since 1809, in 1812 warned that "the national reputation has been sinking ever since, and the people are daily losing confidence in the justice and fidelity of their government." Had effective measures been taken three years ago "the nation would have obtained the respect of the world, and the government the confidence of the people." . . .

The Jefferson administration took office in 1801 determined to check a presumed swing towards monarchy and preserve the government from Federalist control. Facing the problem of commercial depredation and impressment brought on by the Napoleonic wars, Jefferson and his advisers determined they must protect commerce if reputation was to be preserved abroad and public confidence upheld at home. Commercial restriction and negotiation afforded the means by which he and his successor sought to attain these ends. By mid-1811 it became clear that these weapons were useless in the contest with Great Britain. The inducements of nonimportation, embargo, nonintercourse, the Macon law, and possible conflict with France had failed; the presumed repeal of the French Decrees as they affected American neutral rights had produced no comparable British action; Britain continued her seizures and not only refused to repeal her Orders as they affected American neutral commerce, but made demands that revealed determination to make them codeterminate with her struggle with France. The Madison administration saw that no course remained but war or submission. Madison, Monroe, and their party associates in Congress and in the country at large believed submission would gravely imperil the very objects they had long sought. Aside from economic privation, infringement of national sovereignty, and the loss of national honor and morale, submission would work grave injury to the party and to the prestige of republicanism. Republicans rejected submission and reluctantly took the other alternative. Preparing for war they endeavored to use the threat of military force in a final effort to induce repeal. When this too failed the President recommended war - a war that now would put an end to impressment as well.

Sentiment in Congress on the question of war divided closely along party lines, Republican and Federalist. The great majority of Republicans supported war because they, like the President, saw no other option. They concurred with the reasoning which led the President and secretary of state to this conclusion. They were able to agree because they trusted the good faith and integrity of all past efforts to achieve settlement. They could agree to Henry Clay's avowal that: "Not a man in the nation could really doubt the sincerity with which those in power have sought, by all honorable pacific means, to protect the interests of the country." Had these policies and negotiations been the work of Federalists they would doubtless have opposed them. But they were not; they were the work of fellow Republicans, men who could be trusted.

Within the limits set by this consensus there developed sharp disagreements among Republicans as to when and how hostilities should begin. Should not war delay until the country was better prepared? Should it not begin in a limited way, confined to the sea? The safety of the persons and property of constituents in northern and eastern localities made strong cases for an affirmative to both these propositions. In the final days of peace, men already at odds with administration leadership openly challenged the agreedupon strategy in an unsuccessful bid for limited belligerency against one or both belligerents. Opposing these efforts were a hard core of southern and western members championing a strategy that would better satisfy the needs of the country and their own constituents as they conceived them to be.

Not all Republicans could support the declaration of war. A few from northern and eastern constituencies, after defeat of the limited war strategy, voted against war because they feared ruinous effects from a war inadequately prepared for on the lives and property of constituents and on the party. Clintonians joined them out of conviction that they and their leaders held an unused key to accommodation with Great Britain and fearing Federalist resurgence from a premature war. Economic interest and distorted views of the evil character of the war and fear of its results account for other scattered opposition.

The Federalists furnished the greatest number of votes against the war. A united and determined band, they could not agree to the reasoning which led to the position that war was just and unavoidably necessary. The Republicans had never tried seriously to negotiate with Great Britain; they had deliberately created and protracted the embroilment for their own nefarious purposes. Federalists at the outset had scoffed at Republican war pronouncements and military legislation as more political maneuvering. When the Republicans took the nation into war, the Federalists attributed this unexpected move to such apparent causes as French partialities, the disgrace of retreat, a corrupt presidential bargain, and base territorial ambitions. It was an unnecessary and immoral war, clearly avoidable and fully justifying righteous and determined opposition-an opposition which many expected would eventually return them to power.

President Madison in the years 1811-12 faced the difficult task of arousing the country and warning Great Britain that war would take place if she did not repeal her Orders. Striving to give his adversary an avenue of retreat and to prevent possible preemptive attack before the country was adequately prepared, he failed on both these counts. Owing to his ambiguous pronouncements, their discrepancy with those of congressional colleagues, and Federalist propaganda, much of the country and the British government remained throughout most of the session unaware of administration intentions. The complexity of the issue and the presence of men who doubted the willingness of the administration to make war made it vital for the President to make clear, bold policy statements in order to arouse the country and convey warning to the adversary. There was some sense to the effort to respect British pride. There was less logic in the effort to convey a determination to fight and yet give no motive at all for prior attack. Madison had few illusions that Britain would yield without actual war, and his main task should have been to prepare the country as quickly and effectively as possible for military action against this formidable adversary. In the face of the consequent unpreparedness, Republicans from different areas of the country divided among themselves as to when and how force should be applied. Sectional and interest-group pressures are natural to our form of government: all the more reason for efforts to remove the conditions that generated these forces. Americans adequately warned of impending hostilities would have had sufficient opportunity to prepare for conflict. Madison was an able, astute negotiator, highly accomplished in the ways of traditional eighteenth-century European diplomacy. He was beyond his depth, however, in managing the affairs of an unruly, fractious nineteenth-century republic as it moved towards war.

The year 1812 for the student of our early history bears an heretofore unperceived meaning. The waning prestige of republicanism in 1787 had given deep urgency to the movement that produced a new blueprint of republican government-the Constitution. By 1812 republicanism seemed again in peril. Contemporaries perceived the parallel between the two periods. The present moment, exclaimed Calhoun of South Carolina, "is a period of the greatest moment to our country. No period since the formation of our constitution has been equally important." Once again men felt that a momentous outcome hung in balance. We must consider our actions with great care, urged William King of North Carolina, "when the destinies of the country are about to be launched on an untried ocean, and when the doubt is about to be solved, whether our Republican Government is alike calculated to support us through the trials and difficulties of war, and guide us in safety down the gentle current of peace."

Nor did the sense of urgency concerning republicanism and the party dissipate after war began. The nation had shown it could declare war. It must now show that it could wage war. A letter from Secretary Monroe to Senator William H. Crawford reveals a continuing concern. Would the Senator call to discuss candidates to head a confused and leaderless War Department, asked the Secretary, at a particularly low point in American fortunes? "This is the time when the arrangements that are to insure success to the republican party and to free government for our country, are to be made, or which will lay the foundation for their overthrow." From the Virginia son-in-law of the Secretary of State, George Hay, a state party leader, came this warning. "According to my limited views of the state of things in the UStates, this is the crisis of the republican cause. If it sustains the present shock, it will prevail and flourish for many years. The undivided strength of its friends ought therefore to be exerted with the utmost vigilance and circumspection." A speedy recruitment of an efficient military force, wrote William W. Bibb of Georgia in 1814, involved "the safety, if not the very existence of this free government." Only with news of the Peace of Ghent did there come relief from the sense of crisis. There had been disasters in this war, but also triumphs. Jonathan Roberts spoke for many when in 1815 in a letter to his brother he appraised the war. It had not been a defeat or even a stalemate but a victory-for the party and for republicanism.
We have not got a stipulation about impressments and orders in council nor about indemnity-But victory perches on our banner & the talisman of invincibility no longer pertains to the tyrants of the Ocean-But the triumph over the Aristocrats and Monarchists is equally glorious with that over the enemy-It is the triumph of virtue over vice of republican men & republican principles over the advocates and doctrines of Tyranny.

There would be future crises which would call into doubt the energy and staying power of the American Republic. But to many Americans like Roberts the War of 1812 was one long stride in the march towards permanency.