Probably the discrimination was intended, like the exemption from blockade, as a favor to New England, and must have been meant to be more or less secret, since publication was likely to counteract its effect; but in time of war the British government was at liberty to seek supplies where it chose.
Madison thought differently. He sent to Congress, February 24, 1813, a special Message expressing indignation at the conduct of England.
“The policy now proclaimed to the world,” he charged, “introduces into her modes of warfare a system equally distinguished by the deformity of its features and the depravity of its character,—having for its object to dissolve the ties of allegiance and the sentiments of loyalty in the adversary nation, and to seduce and separate its component parts the one from the other. The general tendency of these demoralizing and disorganizing contrivances will be reprobated by the civilized world.”
Although many persons shared Madison’s view of war as a compulsory process of international law, Federalists and Republicans were at a loss to understand his view of “deformity” and “depravity” in modes of warfare. The whole truth in regard to West and East Florida was not known, but so much was notorious, even in 1811, as to warrant the British minister in protesting “against an attempt so contrary to every principle of public justice, faith, and national honor.”[20] What the United States could do in Florida in time of peace, England could surely do in Massachusetts in time of war; but if England’s conduct was in reality deformed and depraved, as charged, the celebrated proclamation of William Hull to the Canadians in 1812, inviting them to quit their allegiance and to “choose wisely” the side of the United States, should have been previously disavowed by the United States government. No little ridicule was caused by the contrast between Madison’s attitude toward Canada and his denunciation of England’s attitude toward Massachusetts.
Taken together, the news from Europe in the last days of winter gave ground for deep reflection. With the overthrow of Napoleon’s authority and the close alliance between Great Britain and Russia, the last chance of forcing concessions from England vanished. A long war, with no prospect of success, lay before the United States. New York harbor, the Delaware River, and Chesapeake Bay were already so nearly closed to commerce as to foreshadow complete stoppage; and if Boston was still open, its privileges must soon cease unless Great Britain deliberately intended to regard New England as neutral. All this, though alarming enough, might be met with courage; but against the pronounced disaffection of Massachusetts and Connecticut no defence existed; and whenever those States should pass from stolid inertia into the stage of active resistance to the war, the situation would become hopeless. Under such circumstances England would have a strong motive for refusing peace on any terms.
The shadow of these fears lay over the Inaugural Address which the President pronounced March 4, 1813, after taking for a second time the oath of office at the Capitol. His speech contained only the defence of a war that needed no defence, and complaints against England which were drowned in the tumult of war, the loudest complaint that man could make. Every tone showed that Madison felt doubtful of support, and that in proving the war to be just he betrayed consciousness that it was not energetic. Perhaps the most characteristic sentence in the Address was that in which he congratulated the country “with a proud satisfaction,” that in carrying on the war, “no principle of justice or honor, no usage of civilized nations, no precept of courtesy or humanity, have been infringed; the war has been waged on our part with scrupulous regard to all these relations, and in a spirit of liberality which was never surpassed.” Madison’s phrases were the more remarkable because at about the same time the British government announced its intention of making America feel what war meant. The courtesy and humanity of the war were to be all on the American side; while not a word in the Inaugural Address gave the pledge which could win victories,—the assurance that the President himself had energy and meant to exert it.
Besides the alarming difficulties which rose partly from failure of military calculations at home and abroad, but chiefly from want of national experience in the business of war, other annoyances surrounded the President, and could not fail to make him wish for peace. Armstrong had not been six weeks in the War Department before he set the members of Administration at odds. The factious days of Robert Smith returned, and the President found the task of maintaining discipline as great in the Cabinet as it was in the army. One of the strongest characters called into prominence by the war, who was himself destined to have charge of the War Department, spoke of Armstrong, four months later, in language hinting impatient consciousness of something too complicated to describe. “And Armstrong!—he was the devil from the beginning, is now, and ever will be.”[21] Only by studying what Armstrong did, could the causes be understood of the passion which he excited in every man he crossed.
Monroe was the first to resent Armstrong’s proceedings. Monroe’s character, the opposite of Armstrong’s, was transparent; no one could mistake his motives, except by supposing them to be complex; and in his relations with Armstrong his motives were simpler than usual, for Armstrong’s views could not be carried into effect without loss of pride to Monroe. Already Monroe had surrendered the War Department to him, with the expectation that if any one was to have general command of the armies in the field, Monroe was to be the man. Down to the time when Armstrong took control, the idea was universal that the next campaign was to be fought by Monroe. Jan. 13, 1813, Serurier wrote to his Government:[22]
“There is much talk of Mr. Monroe for the command of the army, and he has shown a zeal in organizing his Department which tends to confirm me in that belief.... Mr. Monroe is not a brilliant man, and no one expects to find a great captain in him; but he served through the War of Independence with much bravery under the orders and by the side of Washington. He is a man of great good sense, of the most austere honor, the purest patriotism, and the most universally admitted integrity. He is loved and respected by all parties, and it is believed that he would soon gain the hearts of all his officers and soldiers. He would be given a staff as good as possible, and with this assistance as well as all his own recognized resources, it is believed that he would be perfectly suited to carry on the campaign about to open against the last continental possession of England in America.”
As acting Secretary of War, Monroe had urged Congress to increase the number of major-generals; and after Armstrong took charge of the Department Congress passed the Act of February 24, 1813, authorizing the increase. February 27 the nominations were sent to the Senate. In a letter to Jefferson, Monroe told the story:[23]—