credit, he finally recognized the complete failure of his and Jefferson’s hare-brained, counter-arithmetical commercial restriction policy—that it was riddled with smuggling and corruption, that is had done much more damage to the United States than to those against whom it had supposedly been applied, and that it had not motivated Britain to be less unreasonable. On March 31, 1814, he recommended to the Congress the abandonment and repeal of the entire program. Whatever may be said of the errors that led to these policies and their lengthy unsuccessful implementation, the president renounced them with a lack of official vanity and humbug that set an admirable precedent rarely followed in the subsequent history of his great office. Provision was made to protect new manufacturing industries with special tariffs for two years after peace should occur, but the repeal of the Embargo and Non-Importation Acts was approved easily by both houses of the Congress.
The late Tecumseh had managed to stir up the Creek Indians in Alabama, who seized Fort Mims, about 35 miles north of Mobile, and massacred more than half of the nearly 600 people in the fort, including a good many women and children. The major general of the Tennessee militia, Andrew Jackson, organized 2,000 volunteers (hence the identifying slogan of the state), and went on the warpath against the Creeks. There were a number of skirmishes won by both sides, but in March 1814, Jackson, now at the head of 3,000 men, overwhelmed the Creek stronghold at Horseshoe Bend, Alabama, killed approximately a thousand Indian braves, and carried off more than 500 Indian women and children as prisoners. In a treaty in August, the Creeks signed over two-thirds of their land to the United States. This came two weeks after the Generals Harrison and Lewis Cass signed the Treaty of Greenville with the Delaware, Miami, Seneca, Shawnee, and Wyandot Indians, in the coalition assembled by Tecumseh, in consequence of which those tribes again flipped sides and declared peace with the Americans and war on the British. These were not large forces involved (there had been more than 500,000 soldiers engaged on the two sides in the Battle of Leipzig), but the antics of the Indians were extremely disturbing to the settlers, and they tended to ignore Euro-American niceties about women and children. These generals wrote a new chapter in the American political lionization of generals, even when their fame arose in small engagements. Jackson, Harrison, and Cass would, between them, be major party nominees to the presidency six times between 1824 and 1848, and win three times, and the only one of them who did not become president, Lewis Cass, became secretary of state instead. Senior military officers would receive electoral votes for president or vice president in 27 of America’s first 30 quadrennial elections, 1788–1904. Eleven of America’s first 25 presidents would be distinguished military officers, and the first 30 elections would produce 15 terms with soldier-presidents and three with military vice presidents.
Castlereagh was about to become the co-star, along with Austria’s Metternich and the imperishable Talleyrand and the Holy See’s cunning delegate, Ercole Cardinal Consalvi, of the immense Congress of Vienna, which would reorder much of the world, Napoleon having gone into exile at Elba, off the Italian coast, in April. (Talleyrand sold the argument that Napoleon, whom he had served as foreign minister for eight years, was an impostor who had inflicted himself on France in Cromwellian manner, and that France, with Britain, Austria, Russia, and Prussia, was a fully fledged member of the Holy Alliance that had defeated Napoleon, a considerable feat of diplomatic advocacy.) Capable statesman as he was, Castlereagh pursued a negotiated peace and escalation of the War of 1812 at the same time. As his delegation sat down with the Americans at Ghent, the British sent 14,000 veterans of the Duke of Wellington’s Peninsular Army to Canada in the summer of 1814, and the Royal Navy ignored Madison’s olive branch in repealing the embargo and reinforced its blockading fleets against America. The British high command produced a much more imaginative plan to win the war than the humdrum American efforts to charge into Canada yet again by the Lake Champlain, Niagara, and Detroit approaches. They were also vastly more competent than those responsible for the British conduct of the American Revolutionary War. Twenty years of fighting Napoleon had sharpened their staff work and greatly fortified their officer talent.
A three-pronged attack was envisioned, in the footsteps of Montcalm and Burgoyne on the inevitable Lake Champlain and another go at the Niagara crossing; and amphibious attacks on Chesapeake Bay, just southeast of Washington, and at New Orleans. The U.S. regular army was only 34,000 men at the start of October 1814. There were as many as 100,000 militiamen and reservists, but they were scattered through all the states in various conditions of preparedness, command competence, experience, and equipment. The better reservist leaders, such as Jackson and Harrison, were very capable, and Jackson, who had survived hand-to-hand combat with Indians (including a hatchet-wound to the cranium), had been a drummer in the Revolutionary War, and had personally killed a number of men in military and civilian capacities, was a fierce personality who was about to stride to the forefront of national affairs and remain there for 30 years. The charlatan Wilkinson survived another court-martial but finally left the army for even greener financial pastures, trying in Burrite fashion to buy part of Mexico. Winfield Scott and Jackson were the rising figures in the army now.
The Americans launched a preemptive strike at Niagara, which yielded a fine American victory at Chippewa in July, led by General Winfield Scott, who took only about half the 500 casualties of the British. Scott would prove to be probably the greatest American general between Washington and Greene and the Civil War, and was now embarked on a career of 50 years as a military hero. (He, too, would be an unsuccessful presidential candidate, in 1852.) Three weeks later, there was a further action involving about 6,000 men evenly divided, at Lundy’s Lane, near Niagara Falls. It was a stalemate, though the Americans withdrew, and both sides took about 850 casualties. The British failed to take Fort Erie, but the Americans vacated it anyway a few months later—another indecisive engagement almost within earshot of the thundering falls. The British attack down Lake Champlain was repulsed in a naval battle in September, although the Americans were outnumbered. The British commander, Sir George Prevost, who mishandled 11,000 well-trained soldiers, was sacked, but that would prove the last time in history these singularly unsuccessful routes of invasion in both directions, Niagara and Lake Champlain, would be exploited (other than by armies of amiable tourists moving in both directions at once).
The Chesapeake Bay landings would be more successful, and were really an elaboration on previous coastal raids all along the American littoral, and on Pitt’s “descents” on France in the Seven Years’ War. This British movement of their land forces in pin-pricks on the perimeter of their enemies, facilitated by their usual naval superiority, would continue through the World Wars, including Gallipoli and Zeebrugge in World War I (unsuccessful), and the Greek and Crete operations and Dieppe (Canadian forces) in World War II (also unsuccessful). The 4,000 men of the British attacking force departed directly from France for their American targets in June 1814, with a brief stop at Bermuda, and were landed on August 19, an ambitious undertaking in amphibious warfare for the time. The objective was to burn Washington to avenge the burning of Toronto (York) the previous year. The American commander, the inept General William Winder, failed with a ragtag of 7,000 reservists and sailors to stop 3,000 of Wellington’s veterans at Bladensburg, nine miles from Washington, with Madison and the cabinet looking on and the Americans scattered as the British marched, unopposed, into Washington on August 24. The president and his cabinet colleagues fled (on foot in Madison’s case, because of problems with his horse) in different directions and the government temporarily disintegrated.
The British burned the Capitol, and all the other government buildings except the patent office, including the White House, which Mrs. Madison had fled with a portrait of George Washington under her arm, after coolly organizing the removal of as much as possible; she was refused shelter by the irate wife of a farmer who had just been conscripted, an astounding, even endearing display of official disorder. The white paint slapped onto the executive mansion’s seared outer walls gave the building its subsequent name. Apart from a couple of residences, a newspaper office, and the naval dock (which the Americans blew up themselves), the British forces showed correct discipline and avoided indiscriminate destruction or looting. The British left by sea on the 25th, unharried, and Madison and his colleagues returned on August 27, to a less-exuberant welcome from the citizenry. Madison again fired the secretary of war, John Armstrong, and now took the extreme step of replacing him with Monroe, who took over the War Department while retaining the State Department, a unique event in American history to this day. Monroe was now a virtual co-president, supervising