lyonheart wrote:Hi Thrandir,
Be grateful you have the work.
I'm rather surprised you could take that attitude from RFC's, mine and other comments, but everyone is free to see things differently.
I spent more than 2 years in England, in case you're curious, but your somewhat uninformed arrogance brings back memories of some of the Brits I knew.
Lyon, be nice.
Especially since he's largely right. Mind you, I think British sources probably tend to be as parochial as US sources in terms of exactly how the facts are interpreted, but that doesn't change the fact that the terms of the Treaty of Ghent were essentially as stated, that the Brits never formally renounced the Orders in Council, or that the treaty was negotiated before the Battle of New Orleans and so could not have been imposed upon Britain by the US' demonstrated martial prowess. I mean, take a look at how the invasion(s) of Canada worked out. And you might ask a Canadian how he sees the War of 1812 and the implications of its outcome for firmly cementing Canada into the Empire.
Now, do I personally think the Brits could have "won" a war against the US that would have allowed them to dictate terms to us . . . or that wouldn't have had all sorts of negative repercussions for the Empire 20 or 30 years down the road? Nope. But Britain sure as heck wasn't "driven to the peace table." I strongly suspect that many a British historian (like a couple I've known personally) would argue that the war was "a minor irritant" because even at the time the British Empire was hugely humiliated by what happened to the RN in its engagements with the USN. Trust me, I have seen (and spoken with) British historians who insist almost hysterically that the American 44s were originally designed and laid down as ships-of-the-line and then effectively cut down on the stocks into frigates. This, you see, explains the heaviness of their armament and the stoutness of their structure, despite the fact that the correspondence of men like Joshua Humphreys make it abundantly clear the ships were designed as frigates from the keel up and that the language of the authorizing act clearly describes them as "frigates," and not ships-of-the-line. The fact that the Royal Navy's officers had almost universally derided the Americans for mounting 24-pounders when "everyone knew" (from British best practices which were, of course, the best best practices in the world) that the 18-pounder was both the ideal main battery gun for a frigate and the largest which could be worked effectively in a frigate action (and, of course, that the American ships were far too large to hold their own in eight maneuvering battle) is conveniently ignored by those same historians. (Of course, there was a lot of mutual hostility between the Brits and the Americans at this point which might also have helped explain the oft expressed British contempt for the big American frigates. You might want to check out some of the duels between officers of the two navies.)
As far as the action between the Chesapeake and the Shannon is concerned, there are a few points worth considering. One is that the American ship was a 38, not a 44, which means that she was smaller and more lightly armed than the "big" American frigates. In fact, she and Shannon were basically identical twins. (This is significant because the earlier British frigates defeated by United States and Constitution were pretty heavily outgunned). Secondly, her commanding officer, James Lawrence had been in command for a very brief period of time (no more than a couple of weeks, if I'm remembering correctly) without ever being able to take her to sea. In fact, he'd only exercised the crews on the guns two or three times — in harbor, not at sea. Third, Lawrence was determined to sail at the first opportunity, believing that it was his duty to get to sea and attack British commerce and that he would be able to defeat or at least sufficiently damage so as to outrun a single British frigate. Fourth, Sir Philip Broke, Shannon's CO, had been in command for several years, had drilled his crew to perfection, and had some very progressive notions about gunnery and tactics. And, fifth, once action was joined, Lawrence and every single one of his senior officers were killed or severely wounded in the early broadsides. In other words, yes, the British won very handily, but Captain Hull and the Constitution had won their actions almost as handily, if at somewhat longer-range. (There is, by the way, no evidence that Lawrence was even aware of Broke's formal letter of challenge when he sailed or that it had anything at all to do with his decisions. It does, however, make for damned good naval fiction! )
More to the point, perhaps, the Brits had their own notions about what big, double banked frigates should look like, and while their eventual design practices may have been influenced by President, they certainly weren't decisively influenced by their prize. They were already building big frigates – and deploying them to the American station specifically to take on the 44s — well before president fell into their hands. And while it is also true that the Americans were building some very large, very powerful ships-of-the-line by 1814, they were building only a handful of them and the ones they were putting into commission suffered from lack of American experience with the type. The US emphasis on gun power — a feature of American design to the very end of the battleship era — kind of got out of hand with the early liners like Independence, which is why she ultimately had to be cut down a full deck to become an effective worship. Now, in the Ohio and (to a lesser extent) Deleware, the USN produced world-class sailing ships-of-the-line which were actually greatly admired by the Royal Navy, because they finally had the displacement to carry their guns effectively and were far more heavily armed than the vast majority of their supposed peers. However, in 1815, there was no way in the universe that the American navy was going to be able to contend toe-to-toe with the fleet which had kicked Napoleon's arse. And an odd sort of way, British historians have had something of a reverse inferiority complex where the War of 1812 is concerned. They would have won the war at sea in the end, and I don't think there's too much question of that, but the Royal Navy was denied the opportunity to proof that was what would've happened after the initial humiliating defeats. As a result, they've tended to argue (as I pointed out above) that the Americans "cheated" somehow in calling the 44s "frigates" at all and to significantly downplay the extent to which the American privateers succeeded as an asymmetrical means of waging war.
It might put things into proper perspective if you thought of the Wharf 1812 as being at least somewhat analogous to the Vietnam War. Economically and militarily there was absolutely no reason that the United States couldn't have continued the war against North Vietnam for another 10 years. The problem was that a war weary American public saw no outcome which was going to achieve the results it thought the world was being fought for, there was a very vocal and energetic opposition to the war which (revisionist history notwithstanding) never representative majority of US public opinion but was far more effective in its opposition to the war than the portion of the population which actively supported the war, the constant drain of casualties and treasure was deemed unlikely to accomplish American war aims in the end, and, ultimately, the US could walk away from Vietnam, leaving a "stable regime" in place (sound familiar?), without any self-evident sacrifice of critical national interests. The British public in 1814 was exhausted after decades of war against France and, specifically, Napoleon, it saw no critical British interests at risk in North America, the wind down of the naval war in European and Indian waters and greatly eased the manpower crunch which had driven the impressment controversy in the first place, and — as Wellington pointed out when he refused the American command — it seemed unlikely those North Vietn — er, I mean those Americans were going to show common sense about admitting when they were beaten.
The British Army wasn't all that huge, and finding the necessary manpower to wage an effective campaign against something as big as the US was even in 1815 would have been a huge strain, not to mention the difficulties in logistically supporting that operation all the way across the Atlantic (a little problem they'd had a teeny bit of experience with thirty years earlier or so), and there was no way the British public was going to support what was being advertised in Britain by some people as an attempt to "reconquer" the lost colonies when that was clearly a lost cause. When those factors were combined with the losses British maritime interests were suffering and the fact that the Royal Navy knew that the USN was about to start deploying squadrons of light regular man-of-war under regular Navy officers as commerce destroyers, not commerce-raiders, there was no way in the world that Great Britain was going to commit to the level of military effort which would have been required to actually defeat the United States. In addition, Britain's political leaders recognized that the US was going to grow only more powerful over the next several decades, and they really, really didn't want to inaugurate a tradition of bitter hostility and revanchism between themselves and a nation which was likely to be a lot bigger handful than France in the fullness of time.
By the same token, the US negotiators in Europe fully understood that without the distraction of Napoleon, the US couldn't ultimately defeat Great Britain, either. Which is why, in an unusual outbreak of common sense, both sides basically agreed to call it a day without either side imposing terms upon the other.