1812

THE NEWS OF Baltimore, Plattsburgh, and the successful defense of Fort Erie reached London the third week of October 1814 and Ghent shortly thereafter. Henry Clay wrote to Monroe that the victories were of great importance: “for in our own country, my dear sir, at last must we conquer the peace.” Clay made sure that Goulburn received the newspapers giving accounts of the battles.

The British people were deeply shocked. The defeat of a Royal Navy squadron and the shameful retreat of Wellington’s best troops were astonishing and impossible to believe. After the burning of Washington, the British had been expecting an uninterrupted string of victories. Suddenly, the war against America became hugely unpopular. The urge to punish the United States, while it hadn’t entirely disappeared, was replaced by war fatigue. Liverpool was quick to note the new mood. Continuing to fight in the face of strong public disapproval would be extremely difficult. Asking for more sacrifice from an unwilling country that had been at war for as long as the British had was next to impossible.

At the same time that Liverpool was suffering setbacks in America, he was facing mounting problems in Europe. In France, Louis XVIII’s government was weak, disunited, and despised. The French military was disaffected; a sudden coup was a constant threat. At the other end of the political spectrum, Jacobins, men out of work, and Republicans in general wanted to subvert the government as well. Paris, and indeed all of France, was ripe for an explosion. A single spark could ignite a crisis in which the royal family would be massacred. The Duke of Wellington, now the British ambassador in Paris, was himself in danger.

Liverpool had 40,000 troops in Belgium. If France changed regimes, Britain would inevitably be sucked into the maelstrom of another European war. The prime minister wrote to Castlereagh, “You will have heard from many quarters of the combustible state of the interior of France and the expectation of some explosion.... If the war . . . were to be renewed, there is no saying where it would end.”

Nothing gratifying was happening in Vienna at the great congress to settle Europe’s boundaries either. British and Austrian unwillingness to accept Russian dominion over Poland continued to be the main issue standing in the way of a settlement. Castlereagh’s fundamental objective was to achieve a workable balance of power by creating a strong Prussia in Central Europe allied with a strong Austria to balance France in the west and Russia in the east. Allowing Russia to control all of Poland, Castlereagh believed, would upset the balance. He had already secured support from the powers on other issues Britain regarded as essential to her interests. In the peace treaty signed with Louis XVIII on May 30, the boundaries of France as they existed in 1792 were agreed to with minor modifications, along with an enlarged Holland that included Antwerp and the Scheldt estuary, which was deemed vital to Britain’s security. Having the Prince of Orange as ruler of the new Holland was an added guarantee, as was the promise of marriage between his son and Princess Charlotte, the heir to the British throne. In addition, all maritime issues, such as the rights of neutral countries on the high seas, were excluded from discussion, which was a sine qua non for the British.

Castlereagh hoped that getting Prussia to side with Britain and Austria would move Czar Alexander to compromise and solve the Polish problem. Prussian minister Hardenberg, Metternich, and Castlereagh preferred dividing Poland between Russia, Austria, and Prussia to having Russia possess the entire country and bring Russian power into central Europe. In October, Hardenberg kept insisting that in order to break with the czar over Poland, Prussia would need all of Saxony and the fortress city of Mainz. Castlereagh was willing to accept this arrangement, and he succeeded in getting Metternich to grudgingly agree.

Castlereagh’s hopes for a settlement were dashed, however, when King Frederick William of Prussia, who remained under Alexander’s spell, told Castlereagh that he would not hear of breaking with the czar over the Polish question, even though he did not agree with Alexander on the issue. Thus, the negotiations broke down. By November matters appeared especially bleak. “Unless the Emperor of Russia can be brought to a more moderate and sound course of public conduct,” Castlereagh wrote to Liverpool on November 11, “the peace which we have so dearly purchased will be of short duration.”

While Liverpool worried about another war in Europe, he saw no hope for success at Ghent. “I see little prospect of our negotiations at Ghent ending in peace,” he wrote to Castlereagh. And he warned about the horrendous expense of another year of fighting. “The continuance of the American war will entail upon us a prodigious expense, much more than we had any idea of.”

The American conundrum was important enough for Liverpool to hold a full cabinet review on November 3, in preparation for the opening of Parliament. The prime minister pushed the idea of asking—not ordering—the Duke of Wellington to assume command in America. Doing so would solve a number of problems. It would get the duke out of France and out of immediate personal danger. More importantly, after the humiliations at Baltimore, Plattsburgh, and Fort Erie, the duke’s prestige would reinvigorate the army and, indeed, the whole American enterprise. Wellington’s standing with the public was so high that the country would go along with anything he suggested. The cabinet wholeheartedly supported the idea.

Liverpool wrote to Wellington telling him of the anxiety the cabinet felt for his safety and offering him a choice of either going to Vienna to assist Castlereagh or taking command in America with “full powers to make peace, or to continue the war.” Of course, Liverpool hoped Wellington would choose America. There was nothing for him to do in Vienna. Castlereagh did not need him, and Wellington was well aware of that. He and Castlereagh kept in close touch.

Liverpool wrote to Castlereagh on November 4, explaining his reasoning: “The Duke of Wellington would restore confidence to the army, place the military operations upon a proper footing, and give us the best chance of peace. I know he is very anxious for the restoration of peace with America if it can be made upon terms at all honorable. It is a material consideration, likewise, that if we shall be disposed for the sake of peace to give up something of our just pretensions, we can do this more creditably through him than through any other person.”

On November 7, Wellington wrote back to Liverpool that he had no “disinclination” about going to America, although that was hard to believe. But, he emphasized, “you cannot at this moment allow me to quit Europe.... You already know my opinion of the danger at Paris. There are so many discontented people, and there is so little to prevent mischief, that the event may occur on any night; and if it should occur, I don’t think I should be allowed to depart.”

The duke wrote to Liverpool again on November 9, emphasizing that he did not feel threatened in Paris and that if war broke out in Europe, he would be needed there far more than in America. He admitted that Paris continued to be unstable. He did “not see what means the King [had] of resisting the brisk attack of a few hundred officers, determined to risk everything.... It is impossible . . . to conceive of the distress in which individuals of all descriptions are.”

Wellington then went on to give a frank appraisal of conditions in North America and how they related to the peace negotiations in Ghent. In the first place, he thought reinforcements already sent to Canada would assure its defense against another American invasion. He would not be needed to defend Canada. The only justification for sending him would be to invade the United States. He had unlimited confidence in his veterans from the Peninsula War; no American army could withstand them, he thought. There was one very large caveat, however. No invasion of America could succeed without command of the Great Lakes and Lake Champlain. “That which appears to me to be wanting in America,” he wrote, “is not a general, or a general officer and troops, but a naval superiority on the Lakes: till that superiority is acquired, it is impossible, according to my notion, to maintain an army in such a situation as to keep the enemy out of the whole frontier, much less to make any conquest from the enemy. . . . The question is, whether we can obtain this naval superiority on the lakes. If we cannot, I shall do you but little good in America.”

As to the current negotiations at Ghent, Wellington suggested that Liverpool settle for the status quo ante bellum: “I confess that I think you have no right, from the state of the war, to demand any concession of territory from America.... You have not been able to carry . . . [the war] into the enemy’s territory, notwithstanding your military success and now undoubted military superiority, and have not even cleared your own territory on the point of attack. You cannot on any principle of equality in negotiation claim a cession of territory excepting in exchange for other advantages which you have in your power. . . . Why stipulate for uti possidetis [a peace treaty based on land the respective armies occupied]? You can get no territory; indeed, the state of your military operations, however credible, does not entitle you to demand any.”

It was obvious the duke was not going to America unless formally ordered to, which Liverpool had no intention of doing. Given that fact, and all the pressures, both foreign and domestic, the prime minister was confronting, he decided to completely reverse his previous policy and end the war with America as quickly as possible. He wrote a letter to Wellington that must have surprised him. “I can assure you,” the prime minister said, “that we shall be disposed to meet your views upon the points on which the negotiations appears to turn at present.”

Liverpool then wrote to Castlereagh. “We have under our consideration at present the last American note of their projet of treaty [a proposed treaty], and I think we have determined, if all other points can be satisfactorily settled, not to continue the war for the purpose of obtaining or securing any acquisition of territory.

“We have been led to this determination by the consideration of the unsatisfactory state of the negotiations at Vienna, and by that of the alarming situation of the interior of France. We have also been obliged to pay serious attention to the state of our finances, and to the difficulties we shall have in continuing the property tax.”

Liverpool failed to mention the defeats at Baltimore, Plattsburgh, and Fort Erie and how they had turned the public decidedly against continuing the war. If he didn’t know before, he got an earful when Parliament opened on November 8. British debt was the largest in history. Interest alone was now £30 million a year. “After such a contest for twenty years,” he wrote to Wellington, “we must let people taste of the blessings of peace before we can fairly expect to screw them up to a war spirit, even in a just cause.”

The British negotiators at Ghent had no idea Liverpool was liquidating the war. Goulburn wrote to Bathurst on November 14, “The American projet, I think, evidently shows that we shall have no peace with America unless we accede to their proposition of placing things upon the same footing, in point of privileges as well as rights, as they stood before the war was declared, to which I presume we are not ready to accede.”

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.