NATIONAL INGRATITUDE.
BY MATHEW CAREY.
Every American, actuated by a due regard for the honor of his country, must feel deep regret at one feature in the proceedings of our government, which is equally impolitic and discreditable. I mean the neglect, or, what is near akin to neglect, the very long delay of an acknowledgment of those brilliant services, which not only add lustre to the national character, but often produce the most solid, substantial advantages. In this respect, I am afraid, we are more delinquent than any other nation in Christendom—so far, at least, as regards delay. This conduct is, I say, discreditable, as it manifests a deficiency of gratitude, one of the noblest of national virtues.
It is, moreover, impolitic, and may often produce most pernicious and disastrous results in moments of difficulty and danger. There is a vast difference between the efforts of two men, in such crisis, one of whom may rationally anticipate having his merits duly appreciated, and to a certain extent remunerated, if he perform any very gallant or brilliant exploit—the other almost equally certain, that do what he may, he will probably be overlooked altogether, or, if his exploit be commemorated, it will be after a tedious delay of ten, fifteen or twenty years. In such great emergencies, as I referred to above, the former is stimulated to volunteer his services as one of a forlorn hope, where the chances are twenty to one against his escape—the other, if detailed for the service, will doubtless perform his duty, but will have had little temptation to offer himself as a volunteer.
Doubtless such considerations have great influence on the conduct of British military and naval officers. Whenever they perform any very signal or glorious exploit, they are morally certain of due and prompt attention being paid them. With us, if an officer victoriously defends a fort against an overwhelming superior force, as Colonel Croghan did—if he intrepidly destroy an important vessel of war, belonging to an enemy, and by that glorious act spread the fame of his country in remote nations, as Decatur, and his brave companions did—if he defeat a numerous army, as Scott and Brown have done—if he preserve a vessel of war by a rare union of ardor, tact, and energy, as Hull did when pursued by a fleet—if he capture or destroy an entire fleet, as Perry and M’Donough have done—what is his reward? Perhaps nothing. Perhaps after a lapse of ten, a dozen, or twenty “lingering, lagging years” of suspense, he is, at a time when the exploit by which it was earned is almost forgotten, rewarded with a gold-hilted sword!
By-the-bye, swords are, except for officers in actual service, a very injudicious mode of testifying national gratitude. To such officers they may be very appropriate, as they may carry them on their persons, and their appearance will recall the recollection of the action for which they were awarded.1 But a service of plate, which might not cost as much as a gold-hilted sword, lying on a sideboard, or used by the party in his entertainments, would more effectually tend to gratify that laudable pride and ambition, which, say what we may, have a powerful tendency to produce almost every thing estimable in human conduct.
1 Lieutenant Webster, in a letter received from him some years since, corroborated this idea: “I keep the sword generally in my closet, unless a friend should request to see it.”
Of the striking cases in our history, which have called forth, and which justify these strictures, I shall present those of General Starke, Commodore Decatur, and Lieutenant Webster.
General Starke.
That the acknowledgment of the Independence of the United States by, and the treaty of alliance with, France, accelerated the acknowledgment on the part of Great Britain, is a point admitted on all hands. Those arrangements with France probably saved the country the horrors of two or three years additional warfare—and this at a time when its resources were nearly exhausted, and a fearful gloom had for a long time pervaded the horizon.
It is equally true, that the battle of Saratoga and the capture of a powerful, well-disciplined army, commanded by an enterprising general, decided the hitherto wavering councils of Louis XVI. to admit the United States into the fellowship of nations.
Should there be any doubts on the subject, they will be removed by an attention to the chronology of that period.
Dr. Franklin arrived in Paris, in December, 1776, and used his utmost endeavors to obtain an acknowledgment of American Independence from month to month, in vain. He was fed with those vague promises, of which courtiers can be so lavish, but which, however specious, mean little or nothing. At length was fought the important battle of Saratoga, on the 17th of October, 1777. The news probably reached the Court of Versailles early in December. The treaties of alliance and acknowledgment of independence were signed on the 7th of February, 1778, after a lapse of only eight or nine weeks from the arrival of that intelligence. This time was probably employed in concocting the terms and was by no means too much for such a mighty business.2 Could the Jew Apella, for a moment, doubt the cause that led that court to the recognition of American Independence?
2 “In the midst of this supposed gloomy state of affairs in America, the news of the surrender of the British army commanded by General Burgoyne, to that of the Americans under General Gates, at Saratoga, on the 17th October, 1777, arrived in France; and at the very moment when the French cabinet was as yet undecided in regard to the steps to be adopted relative to the United States. This memorable event immediately turned the scale, and fixed the French nation in their attachment to the infant republic.”—Memoirs of Franklin, p. 382.
This preface appeared necessary to shed a proper blaze of light on the glorious battle of Bennington, the turning point of the war to the northward, which directly led to the triumph at Saratoga, and to the capture of the bombastic British commander. National gratitude could, at its utmost stretch, scarcely overpay an achievement pregnant with such all-important consequences.
General Carleton, who commanded the British forces in Canada, being regarded as not sufficiently energetic, was superseded by General Burgoyne, who stood in high estimation for energy, military skill and bravery. How far he answered expectation remains to be seen. He started from Canada early in December, 1776, and met with little resistance in his destructive and marauding career some hundred miles, till he arrived at Saratoga.
He issued his braggart proclamation on the 6th of December, in which he denounced extermination, through the instrumentality of the hordes of Indians, whom he had in his pay, against all who dared oppose his Majesty's arms. The prospect to the north was then to the last degree gloomy—defeat and disaster had marked the progress of the Americans. Those were “times that really tried men's souls.” Despondency had spread extensively. General Schuyler, who commanded the northern army, gives an appalling description of the state of things. “The torpor, criminal indifference, and want of spirit which so generally prevail, are more dangerous than all the efforts of the enemy.” On the 4th of July he resumes the subject—“We have not above four thousand continental troops; if men, one-third of whom are negroes, boys, and men too aged for the field, and indeed for any other service, can be called troops. The States, whence these troops came, can determine why such boys, negroes, and aged men were sent. A great part of the army took the field in a manner naked, without blankets, ill armed, and very deficient in accoutrements.”
Such was the deplorable state of affairs to the north, a few weeks previous to the time when Starke made his appearance on the arena. General Burgoyne, being considerably straitened for provisions of every kind, and having learned, by his spies, that there was a large supply of flour, corn, and cattle, collected at Bennington, guarded only by militia, of whom he entertained great contempt, despatched a body of five hundred Germans with one hundred Indians, under the command of Colonel Baum, to seize them. The Germans, being heavily armed, and the roads greatly obstructed, were several days in marching between thirty and forty miles.
General Starke, who had for some time previously employed all his influence and energies in collecting as many militia as possible, commenced an attack on Baum's troops, immediately on their arrival; but, after a short struggle, had to retire to some little distance; meanwhile, Baum, finding his situation perilous, fortified himself within a double breast-work, and sent for assistance to Burgoyne. On the other hand, Starke, having received a reinforcement on the 16th of August, renewed his attack on Baum; and, notwithstanding the strength of his defences, and the bravery of his troops, carried the fortifications, and made prisoners of all that were not killed. This battle was just ended when a reinforcement of five hundred Germans, under Breyman, made its appearance. The Americans, though extremely fatigued by the assault, and a battle of two hours, attacked the new enemies with such determined bravery, that their efforts were crowned with a most complete victory, after a hard fought battle of several hours. The results of the two battles were, the capture of about seven hundred prisoners, one thousand stand of arms, four brass field-pieces, twelve brass drums, two hundred and fifty dragoon swords, four ammunition wagons, eight loads of baggage, and twenty horses. Among the prisoners was Colonel Baum, who shortly afterwards died of his wounds. There were killed in the two battles about three hundred men, of whom, it is supposed, one third were Americans.
As a reward for this glorious triumph of patriotism and heroic bravery, Congress liberally passed a resolution of thanks to General Starke and his brave soldiers! and promoted him to the rank of brigadier-general! WERE NOT THESE THANKS AND PROMOTION ABUNDANT REWARD?
Whether this veteran received a pension or not, cannot now be ascertained. But be that as it may, he was, in his old age, I believe about ninety, reduced to penury. On the 18th of March, 1818, forty years after his exploits, he petitioned Congress for a pension (perhaps an additional one.) The petition was referred, in the House of Representatives, to a committee, who reported a bill on the 19th, which, conformably with the usual procrastinating routine of Congress proceedings,3 lay over untouched for five weeks, till the 18th of April, when it was passed and sent to the Senate, who referred it to the committee on pensions, who reported it that day, without amendments. It was read in committee of the whole, on Monday the 20th, and agreed to with amendments. It being against the rules of the Senate to pass a bill the same day on which it has undergone amendments, Mr. Fromentin moved to suspend the rule. But, regardless of the services, the claims, and the sufferings of the hero, the motion, alas! was rejected—Congress adjourned next day—and, of course, the bill was lost. Next session it passed. Starke received one year's pension, but died before another came around—covered with glory, but steeped in penury!!
3 To this general censure, there was one remarkable exception. The bill, to render members of Congress salary officers, at the rate of fifteen hundred dollars per annum, was hurried forward with an engine of high pressure. It was read the first and second time, March 6th, 1815—the third time, and passed the 9th. Received and read first time in Senate, the 11th, second time 12th, third time, and passed, the 14th. Laid before the President, and passed, the 18th. Thus, this bill, so extremely obnoxious, was hurried through, from its initiation till its final ratification in twelve days.
The Capture and Destruction of the Philadelphia frigate.
History furnishes few instances of heroic daring—ardent zeal—unconquerable energy—and nice tact and skill, equal to the capture and destruction of the frigate Philadelphia, in the harbor of Tripoli—and, all the circumstances of the case duly considered, it may be doubted whether any thing superior to it can be found on record. Never was there a much more hazardous enterprize—never was there a greater disparity between the means of attack and the means of defence. Indeed, it must be confessed, that all the dictates of prudence were opposed to the undertaking. But I will not enfeeble the interest of the reader, by attempting to describe the affair, when it is so transcendently better done in the glowing and eloquent speech of the Hon. Mr. Robbins, one of the senators from the State of Rhode Island.
“The Philadelphia was captured from the barbarians when she was, and after she had long been, in their secure possession, in their own harbour, and under the guns of their own fort, and where she was kept fully manned and armed, as their pride, as well as defence, and where she was a monument at once for barbarian triumph, and for American humiliation. This protecting fort was armed with more than a hundred guns, and backed, it was said, by an army in camp of twenty thousand men. The banks of the harbor were lined with land-batteries throughout, and armed also with more than a hundred guns, and its waters were guarded by a thousand seamen. Still this little gallant band, the recaptors, in the dead of night, with Decatur at their head, made their way to this frigate, boarded her, cut down every barbarian on board, or drove him over her sides into the water; then, in obedience to orders to set fire to her in different parts, they burnt her down to the water's edge, and made their retreat in safety; and all this in the face and fire of the artillery of that fort and of those land-batteries.
“Let it be recollected that this daring enterprise was out of the routine of the regular naval service; it was, indeed, permitted, but not directed by the commanding officer on that station; it was wholly a volunteer enterprise. It was originally suggested by the gallant and ever-to-be-lamented Decatur, then a lieutenant, and but a youth, as it were. He saw that the thing was practicable to spirits daring like his own, and that the achievement, though full of danger, would be full of honor. He saw the brilliant page it would make in history; but he did not foresee that it would be but the title-page to that volume of brilliant exploits, which subsequently were to illustrate our naval annals, of which this was to be the precursor and animating model. He soon collected his volunteer band of congenial spirits, all young, like himself, and, like him, burning with a thirst for distinction. Confiding in themselves, they went to the enterprise, confident of success, and did realize what to colder minds would seem but the dream of romance. It is pleasing to note the number of our naval heroes, who afterwards so much distinguished themselves in our naval battles, who gave their juvenile and first proofs of heroism in this heroic enterprise.”
Thirty-two years have elapsed since this achievement took place, and the halls or Congress have, probably, witnessed twenty or thirty frivolous debates on this simple question, whether a great, a powerful, a wealthy nation, lying under heavy obligations to some of its heroic citizens, should honorably discharge the debt, or, through an unworthy species of chicane, delay or evade the payment—debates, which, in addition to the dishonor they inflicted on the nation, probably cost full as much as would have satisfied the claimants, and rescued them from the distress and embarrassments caused by the delay of justice. A delay of justice is often equivalent to a denial of it, and, for aught we know, it may be somewhat the case in the present instance. The justice of the claim has, I apprehend, never been disputed. The difficulty, so far as I understand the subject, is on the apportionment of the sum acknowledged to be due, among the different claimants. But what character would an individual deserve, who owed a sum of money to a number of persons, and delayed, or refused to pay any of them, under pretence that he could not precisely fix their respective quotas? Would he not be set down, and with justice, as a sharper. And are the rules of morality less obligatory on nations than on individuals?
If a proper disposition to do justice prevailed with Congress, the difficulty might have been easily obviated, by passing an act awarding the whole sum to the mass of the captors, subject to an apportionment by an arbitration, or by a jury.
If the widow of the illustrious Decatur, and her fellow-claimants, whoever they may be, are not common paupers, supported by eleemosynary aid—are not tenants of hospitals, or alms-houses—their escape from this frightful result, attaches no merit to those majorities whose cold-blooded and heartless votes are recorded against the act of paramount justice involved in this question.
Lieutenant Webster and Lieutenant Newcomb.
It cannot for a moment be doubted that the gallant attack on the British, in their attempt on Baltimore, by a six gun battery, called Fort Patapsco, and by another small battery called Fort Covington, the former commanded by Lieutenant Webster, and the latter by Lieutenant Newcomb, were the chief means of saving the city from capture. The British contemplated a simultaneous attack by land and water; and, while the troops were landing at North Point, a flotilla, consisting of sixteen ships including five bomb vessels, proceeded up the Patapsco. At one o'clock, A. M. on the 14th of September, 1814, twelve hundred picked men were detached with scaling ladders, to land on the south side of the city. They had eluded Fort M’Henry by a somewhat circuitous route. As they approached the shore, the two small forts, of whose existence, it is believed, they were ignorant, opened a most destructive fire upon them, which sunk some of their barges, and killed many of their men. These unexpected disasters wholly deranged all their plans, and made them retreat in a state of discomfiture. In their retreat they came within gunshot of Fort M’Henry, which raked them with great havoc.
Had they passed the two small forts, and debarked their men at the contemplated point, nothing could have saved Baltimore from falling a prey to those who had so recently taken Washington; and sharing in the ignominious fate of that city, as, even without this co-operation, the former, Baltimore, was in most imminent danger.
For this invaluable service, which would be cheaply purchased by millions of dollars, the two Lieutenants received the thanks of the City of Baltimore, and each a gold-hilted sword, which cost between three and four hundred dollars. To Lieutenant Webster, whose circumstances were humble, a donation of an equal sum in l'argent comptant would have been infinitely more useful. Sometime afterwards he opened a grocery store, nearly opposite the Indian Queen, in Market street, the principal thoroughfare in Baltimore, a city which was so largely indebted to him, and whose inhabitants ought to have vied with each other in their encouragement of him. But, alas! so slender was their support, that he was unable to maintain himself by his business, and finally failed. What has become of him since, I have no means of ascertaining with precision, but have some reason to believe that he is now in the service of the United States.
“Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend!”