The Pig War E-Book

E C Coleman

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 405

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2009

Beschreibung

With a plot to grace any comic opera, the 1859-72 'Pig War' broke out when an American living on a quietly disputed small island in the Gulf of Georgia shot a British pig he found rooting up his garden produce. The authorities on nearby Vancouver Island and the military leadership of the adjacent Washington Territory both felt they had good reasons to escalate a trivial incident into a full-blown war between the United States and Great Britain. Soon, American soldiers found themselves looking down the barrels of the Royal Navy cannon. Whilst both the British and the Americans continued to threaten and bluster, Royal Marines and US soldiers settled down on the island to a round of social events, including sports days, combined dinners and even summer balls. Despite the outbreak of the American Civil War, and British intervention on the Confederate side, the hot-heads were restrained and, eventually, it was decided that the problem should become one of the earliest examples of international arbitration. The German Kaiser was brought in and - from the British point of view - came to the wrong decision. Set against the framework of US attempts to gain control of the whole North American continent, The Pig War is a highly readable account of a little-known episode in Anglo-American history.

Leseprobe

THE

PIG WAR

THE

PIG WAR

THE MOST PERFECT WAR IN HISTORY

E. C. COLEMAN

First published 2009

The History Press The Mill, Brimscombe Port Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QGwww.thehistorypress.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2013

All rights reserved © E.C. Coleman 2009, 2013

The right of E.C. Coleman to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 0 7524 9670 2

Original typesetting by The History Press

Contents

1. A New Nation Flexes its Muscles

2. The Boundary Settled?

3. Defining a ‘Channel’

4. The Americans Begin their ‘Molestation’

5. Unco-operative Sheep and the Mustering of Arms

6. The Boundary Commission

7. The Shot is Fired, and the General Responds

8. The South Arises in the West

9. The Order is Given

10. The Americans Land and the Royal Navy Sails

11. Opening Negotiations

12. Reinforcements

13. The Chief Antagonists Correspond

14. The President Becomes Involved

15. Scott Arrives on the Scene

16. A Different War Looms

17. The Royal Marines Arrive

18. Replaced by a Northerner

19. A Remarkable Incident

20. Great Britain Aids the South

21. The Island Settles Down

22. Attempt to Take Canada

23. Alaska and British Columbia

24. A New Commander

25. The Politicians Grow Restless

26. British Columbia Joins Canada

27. Decision and Aftermath

Appendix: Maps

Select Bibliography

1

A New Nation Flexes its Muscles

On the obverse of the Great Seal of the United States of America, a spread-winged bald eagle clutches in one of its talons an olive branch; in the other, thirteen arrows. The eagle’s body is hidden behind a shield, whilst above its head a circle of light-emitting clouds enclose thirteen stars. A ribbon streams from the bird’s beak, bearing the words ‘e pluribus unum’ (‘out of many, one’). It is a fine – indeed, noble – image that threatens firm retaliation, but offers peace.

The reverse of the seal shows a quite different design. The main feature is an unfinished pyramid with its top layers and cap missing. As if to take the place of the missing section, a matching triangle, containing a light-emitting eye, hovers just above the incomplete structure. Above the design, a Latin motto reads ‘annuit coeptis,’ which is usually translated as ‘God has favoured our undertaking.’ Along the bottom another Latin motto states ‘novus ordo seclorum,’ which is taken to mean ‘a new order for the world’ (or ‘of the ages’). Taken together, however, the mottos can be read as ‘grant the beginning of a new world order.’

The fathers of the American Revolution were not long in attempting to set the beginning of this new world order in motion. Dr Benjamin Franklin, who was the leading designer of the unfinished pyramid of the Great Seal, had the following as the thirteenth of his Articles of Confederation of 21 July 1775:

Any and every colony from Great Britain upon the continent of North America and not at present engag’d in our Association shall upon Application and joining the said Association be receiv’d into this Confederation, viz. West India Islands, Quebec, St Johns, Nova Scotia, Bermudas, and East and West Florida; and shall thereupon be entitled to all the Advantages of our Union, mutual Assistance and Commerce.

As the negotiations for the recognition of the United States began in September 1782, the American side (John Adams, Benjamin Franklin and John Jay) began by demanding that Great Britain surrender Canada (then consisting of the two colonies of ‘Upper’ and ‘Lower’ Canada) to the United States. It was a bold thrust that would have set the missing cap onto the pyramid. The British negotiator, David Hartley, backed by the Prime Minister, rejected the suggestion with such vigour that it quickly became clear to the Americans that to continue with such an outrageous demand would jeopardise the whole negotiation and risk subjecting the fledgling nation to an unwanted continuation of hostilities. Consequently, the national border between Canada and the United States, fishing and property rights, and the withdrawal of the British from American soil were all negotiated and settled. The northern border of the United States would, it was agreed, reach from the Atlantic, through the Great Lakes, ‘to the most northwesternmost point’ of the Lake of the Woods, and ‘thence on a due west course to the River Mississippi.’ The principle, however, of obtaining all the land in North America for the United States had taken root, and so began the longest cold war in history: that between the United States and Great Britain.

Beyond the Mississippi, Louisiana – the land as far west as the Rockies – had belonged to the Spanish since 1763, when it was taken from the French. In 1801, by treaty, France regained control of Louisiana and, as a result, the United States found itself staring at a golden opportunity. By the end of that year, the French Revolutionary War had fought itself to a stand-still. Both France and Britain were exhausted. The Royal Navy dominated the seas, while the French Army, under Napoleon Bonaparte, continued to grow more powerful. But a larger, more powerful army is expensive, and Napoleon was keen to raise the necessary funds. The Treaty of Amiens, signed in 1802, provided a pause in the conflict, but Britain had not done well out of the treaty and, when the French began to disregard parts of the agreement, Britain refused to abandon Malta and began an aggressive blockade against French shipping. In this atmosphere, the Americans approached Napoleon with a remarkable suggestion. They would like to buy part of Louisiana. The bait worked. The French offered not just a part, but all of Louisiana, in return for which the United States would pay 60 million francs and cancel 20 million francs’ worth of debt (a total of $15 million). At a stroke, the French economy was raised to a war footing, the Americans had doubled the size of their country and the British were, once again, embroiled in a continental war.

As the combatants took up their positions, the Americans could afford to await the outcome. If the British came out on top, nothing would have changed; but if the British were defeated, it would be an easy task to walk into their possessions in North America and take them over.

Across the Atlantic, the war had taken on a significant change on its resumption. The Royal Navy, especially after Nelson’s great victory at Trafalgar, continued to sweep all before it, but the British Army was occupied in removing the French from Spain. By 1812, the United States of America felt it could make moves of its own. It did not have to look far for an excuse. As far back as 1807 an incident had occurred which had threatened to bring the Americans into the war.

Against a background of blockading that had badly affected American trade, the Royal Navy insisted on continuing its practice of raising men by pressing them into the service. In Britain itself, any man ‘used to the sea’ was at risk of being pressed. There were exemptions, but being on board a foreign vessel was not one of them. Many seamen had deserted to American ships, usually for the better rates of pay rather than for any greater principle. Consequently, the Royal Navy assumed the right to stop any American ship and to search it for His Majesty’s subjects who would be better employed in the ships of war of their own nation – or hanged as an example if desertion could be proved.

On 22 June 1807, Captain Humphreys of HMS Leopard sent a boat across to the USS Chesapeake with a demand that Humphreys’ men be allowed to search her for British seamen. Captain Barron of the Chesapeake refused the demand and was seen by the men in the Leopard’s boat to be preparing for battle. On learning of the American’s action, Humphreys promptly gave the order to engage the Chesapeake. Within minutes, three Americans had been killed, eighteen had been injured and the British were searching their ship.

In response to the incident, the Americans passed an Embargo Act forbidding any merchant vessel to leave American ports with cargoes for foreign destinations. The effect on the British war effort was significant, but not crippling. The same, however, could not be said about the American merchants, who saw the United States’ export trade fall dramatically. The Embargo Act was repealed in 1809.

The United States took its revenge for the Chesapeake–Leopard incident in May 1811, when HMS Little Belt of 20 guns ran into the 44-gun USS President. The Little Belt hailed the President to ask who she was – the reply came in the form of a full broadside. For half an hour the tiny British corvette tried to close with the American vessel, but, whenever her captain, Commander Arthur Bingham, tried to get alongside the President, Commodore John Rogers kept out of range and used his much heavier guns to bring down the Little Belt’s mizzen mast. Unable to steer or bring his guns to bear, Bingham ceased firing. The American also stopped his cannonading and sailed away after signalling his regret at the incident. The British ship had eleven killed in the action and twenty-one wounded. The President had one boy slightly injured.

The incident had no effect on American attitudes, which, in some quarters, had already hardened. By now, Congressman Henry Clay – a leading ‘War Hawk’ – was demanding the invasion of Canada. Clay was not alone, and he was able to muster enough support to have war declared against Great Britain on 18 June 1812. Congressman Daniel Webster was appalled: ‘Public opinion, strong and united, is not with you in your Canada project.’ But it was too late, and the ‘cold’ war was about to become hot.

The prospects of another war on a second front were not too good for Britain. The military forces in Canada were weak and thinly spread. Less than 5,000 soldiers, supported by a poorly trained militia, were supposed to guard against invasion along a thousand-mile border. It was not, however, on land that the main shocks were to be felt, but at sea.

The Americans possessed a number of very powerful 44-gun frigates (actually mounting 54 guns), against which the Royal Navy was expected to deploy frigates mounting 38 guns. The swift capitulation of the Chesapeake in 1807 had sent out the wrong message, and the British people were stunned into disbelief when the Constitution tore the masts from HMS Guerriere, leaving her dead in the water and unable to continue the fight. Disbelief then turned into outright alarm when Lieutenant Chads, the first lieutenant of HMS Java, found he had the ‘melancholy task’ of informing the Admiralty that, with his captain seriously injured and his ship dismasted and helpless, ‘our colours were lowered from the stump of the mainmast.’ Matters became even worse when HMS Macedonian was not only pounded into a wreck by the USS United States, but was actually returned to an American port as a prize. Being outgunned was not an excuse acceptable to a nation – or a navy – that had seen someone like Horatio Nelson serving beneath its flag. Consequently, a new strategy saw the American frigates blockaded in port as British ships, more than capable in strength or in firepower, waited outside.

In the case of the Chesapeake (nominally a 38-gun vessel, but actually mounting 48), a different tactic was used. The 38-gun HMS Shannon managed to tempt her out of Boston harbour. The American ship was not only captured, but had the ignominy of her timbers ending up as the framework for an English flour mill. The President, in attempting to escape from New York during a snow-storm, fell in with a British squadron. After a chase, she was captured and also taken to England. A third American frigate, the Essex, was to meet her destiny off the coast of South America.

On land, matters had not fared so well for the Americans. Almost a dozen attempts to invade Canada had fizzled out and what had been achieved amounted to little more than vandalism involving the destruction of private and public property. In revenge, the Royal Navy invaded the nation’s capital and burned the presidential mansion (now known as the White House) and the Capitol. Nearby, the town of Alexandria, faced with a bombardment from two frigates and five smaller vessels, promptly surrendered, turning over all its stores to the British.

Nevertheless, much of the British military involvement suffered from incompetent leadership. At Plattsburgh, Lieutenant-General Sir George Prevost, despite having tough, eager veterans who had fought against Napoleon lined up ready to advance against the enemy, and despite the Americans managing to burn down their own buildings whilst using heated shot, refused to launch the attack and ended up lamely retreating across the border. In the south, at New Orleans, Major-General Sir Edward Packenham, ignoring the opportunity to allow part of his force to outflank the Americans, advanced over open ground towards a wide, muddy ditch and an enemy sheltered behind breastworks of cotton bails and sugar barrels. Needless to say, the British suffered a defeat of catastrophic proportions.

Three days after the debacle at New Orleans, Captain Robert Barrie of HMS Dragon captured Cumberland Island, off the coast of Georgia. Using the island as a base of attack, Barrie crossed to the mainland on 13 January 1815, captured the fort at Point Peter, took the nearby town of St Mary and sent two captured ships to join his squadron. Then, no doubt much to his chagrin, Barrie found he had to retire to his ships and leave the area. News had reached him that a peace treaty had been signed on Christmas Eve 1814. Consequently, both the Battle of New Orleans and Barrie’s invasion of the United States had taken place after the treaty had been signed (as did a further United States surrender to British forces at Fort Bowyer, Alabama, exactly one month later). Barrie, who had already had a spectacular career against American shipping along the east coast, and had helped in the capture of part of Maine, later became the senior naval officer in Canada and had the town of Barrie, Ontario, named in his honour.

At the start of the war, Great Britain owned vast areas of land in North America. Not only Upper and Lower Canada, Nova Scotia and Labrador, but also Rupert’s Land, the huge area controlled by the Hudson’s Bay Company which reached north to the Arctic Sea, the known lands of the North Western Territory and the lands west of the Rocky Mountains as far south as the 42nd Parallel, known as Columbia Country.

The latter territory had fallen to the British as a result of their victory in the Seven Years’ War (1756–63), and was administered by the North West Company, the main commercial rivals of the Hudson’s Bay Company. However, between 1804 and 1806 an American ‘Corps of Discovery’ expedition led by Captain Lewis and Lieutenant Clark had crossed the continent (the second to do so north of Mexico), giving the Americans – in their opinion – a claim on the land. In 1811, to underline this claim, the wealthy fur-trader John Jacob Astor sent a ship to the north-west Pacific coast to build a fort on the banks of the Columbia River. With the outbreak of war, the existence of ‘Fort Astoria’ on British territory became, at last, an affront to British sensibilities. Something had to be done.

The answer to the problem arrived in the form of an order to Captain James Hillyar of the 36-gun HMS Phoebe. On passage in company with a North West Company ship, the Isaac Todd, Hillyar was to enter the Pacific, make his way to Fort Astoria, capture it and hand it over to the North West Company, who, in turn, would use it as a base to establish a settlement at the mouth of the Columbia River.

The Phoebe and her consort left Portsmouth in March 1813 and arrived at Rio de Janeiro three months later, only to learn that the purpose of the mission was already known to the Americans. Of even greater interest to Hillyar was the news that a 38-gun frigate, the USS Essex (like the Chesapeake actually armed with 48 guns), under the command of Captain David Porter, had entered the Pacific and was doing considerable damage amongst British whalers and other shipping in the vicinity of the Galapagos Islands. If the Phoebe and the Isaac Todd fell in with the Essex, there was every chance that Hillyar would be overwhelmed. Even if the Phoebe was sacrificed, the North West Company ship would not be able to escape the speed of the American. To even the odds, Hillyar was given two smaller ships to add to his squadron: the 18-gun sloop HMS Cherub and the 16-gun Raccoon.

After a stormy passage around Cape Horn, the Isaac Todd was discovered to be missing and, when she failed to appear at a rendezvous at Juan Fernandez Island, Hillyar was forced to assume she had been lost. Under the changed circumstances he chose to ignore the main thrust of his mission and sent the Raccoon on alone to take Fort Astoria. Why bother with the trifling business of taking a fort manned by fur-traders, when there was much better game afoot? Hillyar intended to go after the Essex.

Unbeknown to the Phoebe’s captain, news of his mission had already reached the Essex, and Porter took measures accordingly. One of the whalers the American had captured was converted into a 20-gun man-of-war with a ship’s company of ninety men and re-named the Essex Junior. Both sides were now hunting for the other.

They met by accident: not at sea, but in the harbour of Valparaiso. As the Phoebe and the Cherub prowled up and down outside the harbour, Porter, who had promised his men ‘an abundant supply of wealth, and the girls of the Sandwich Islands,’ remained under the protection of Chilean neutrality: a precarious policy as Britain, by now allied with Spain, had shown no signs of recognising Chilean independence or such neutrality.

It was, however, not the question of neutrality that decided the issue, for, after six weeks secured in the port, a violent storm caused one of the Essex’s mooring cables to part. Forced to sail from the harbour or risk the likelihood of being driven aground, Porter suddenly realised that the high winds were actually in his favour. With the wind astern, there was every chance that he could race out of the harbour and leave the slower British ships in his wake. But it was not to be. As he cut his remaining cable and left the harbour entrance, the main-topmast snapped, reducing both his speed and his manoeuvrability. Unable to return to the refuge of the harbour, Porter turned to what he hoped would be his salvation – the neutrality of Chilean waters. The Essex retreated to the coast in the expectation of sanctuary, but Hillyar was not impressed. Even if Chilean neutrality had been expected, it could not last indefinitely. The British ships bore down upon their enemy and, knowing that the American could throw out a broadside of 676 lbs compared to the 476 lbs of the Phoebe and the 248 lbs of the Cherub, Hillyar kept well away from the range of the Essex’s 32-lb carronades as he poured in fire from his long 18-pounders. Before long, men were to be seen jumping from the Essex in an effort to swim to the shore and, after just two and a half hours, Porter was forced to haul down his flag. The balance of power in the Pacific now lay with the British, and one of the much-vaunted American 38-gun frigates was on its way to becoming a convict hulk in an English port.

The Raccoon, on the other hand, had faced a much less glorious outcome as she reached Fort Astoria. Much to the outrage and disappointment of her captain and ship’s company – who had been looking forward to the prize money which would have been theirs at the imminent capture – the fur-traders, knowing that the British were coming, and showing true American initiative, had sold the fort to the North West Company. The only light in the gloom came when the battered – and given up for lost – Isaac Todd made its way up the Pacific coast with much-needed supplies.

With the signing of the Treaty of Ghent on 24 December 1814, the Canadian economy boomed from the resources spent during the war, the disparate parts of the country had earned the respect of each other and every American attempt at invasion had been repulsed. The question of pressing men from American ships was not even raised in the peace treaty, and not a single American enterprise existed on the north-west coast of North America.

2

The Boundary Settled?

After the war of 1812 there still remained a number of inconsistencies and general bones of contention regarding the border between the United States and the lands of British North America. Under the Treaty of Ghent a series of four joint commissions, with one commissioner from each side, would examine different sections of the eastern end of the border with a view to arriving at an amicable agreement as to the final line. All went well for two of these surveying commissions, but the question of the border with the state of Maine proved difficult, as did the boundary from Lake Huron to the Lake of the Woods. Both reported back to their governments as having ‘disagreed.’

For both parties the border difficulties in the east appeared to be little more than a tidying up of the line. There was some land to be lost or gained, some access to resources to be denied or achieved, but all agreed that the answer to the difficulties lay only in diplomacy. Such was not the case in the west.

Another look at the borders came six years after the war, when a treaty known as the ‘Convention of 1818’ was signed by both sides. After the usual jostling for position over fishing rights, Article II re-examined the border running along the 49th Parallel. Not only was it discovered that the 49th Parallel did not run from the ‘most northwesternmost point’ of the Lake of the Woods, but closer to the south-west corner, but it was also learned that the line of latitude did not meet the Mississippi at any point of the river’s length. The latter problem was dealt with after some difficult negotiations by continuing the line westwards until it met the ‘Stony (i.e. ‘Rocky’) Mountains.’ The question concerning the line’s starting position on the Lake of the Woods, however, fell into farce.

In drawing the line southwards from the ‘most northwesternmost point’ of the lake, a section of Canada (modern Ontario) was sliced off. Covering an area of about 130 square miles, the land – known as the Northwest Angle – remained suspended above the 49th Parallel, unconnected to the United States and accessible by land only by going through Canada. A far more logical solution would have been to have given to the United States the land bordering the south-east corner of the lake until the 49th Parallel made contact with the water, and then taken it straight across the southern end of the lake following that latitude. However, as will be frequently seen, common sense and diplomatic negotiations often prove to be uncomfortable bedfellows in a cold war. They were just as uncomfortable when the treaty turned to the question of British possessions in the north-west.

There was never any doubt regarding Great Britain’s rights to the ownership of Columbia Country. South from the southern border of Russian North America at 54° 40’ N, to the northern border of Spanish Mexico on the 42nd Parallel, and extending as far east as the Rocky Mountains, the area had been taken from the Spanish in 1763 at the end of the Seven Years’ War. Britain’s claims could go back even further. The coast had been sailed by the Spanish as far back as 1542, but no land claims had been made. Nor were any claims made until the region was visited by Francis Drake during his voyage of circumnavigation. It is known for certain that he landed and claimed ‘New Albion’ (probably Upper California), but there was the mystery of the question concerning ‘a certain truth concealed.’ Some open-minded historians have come to the conclusion that Drake sailed much further north, beyond even the Straits of Juan de Fuca. This could be based upon the report of the expedition in which it was noted that, after a dash to the north, ‘… the men being thus speedily come out of the extreme heat, found the air so cold that, being pinched with the same, they complained of the extremity thereof.’ Drake then headed east to the coast (where he may have landed, at least for water), and then south, probably towards San Francisco. If far enough to the north, the southerly voyage would have taken them past the Straits of Juan de Fuca. Seeing the wide waterway, and realising that it might be a western outlet of a north-west passage across the top of North America, Drake – and, on his return, the Queen – decided not to publicise any claims in the area and thus forestall any foreign commercial competition. Whilst such a theory cannot be proved, it would, at least, account for the surprising discovery by later expeditions of northern American Indians of unusually large stature, with pale skins, lighter-coloured eyes and hair, and – most surprising of all – facial hair.

Between the southern border of the territory and the Straits of Juan de Fuca, the Columbia River reached the Pacific Ocean. Although guarded at its entrance by a treacherous series of sand bars, once these had been safely negotiated the river proved to be a natural highway for the delivery of stores and the receipt of furs. The North West Company’s Fort George (previously the American ‘Fort Astoria’) was situated on the southern bank of the river close to the entrance. The question of the fort had proved to be contentious during the negotiations of the peace treaty at the end of the war of 1812, when the Americans demanded its return on the grounds that it had been in their possession at the outbreak of hostilities. Had the fort been taken by enemy action, there may have been a case for its return, but as the Americans had sold the fort to the British it was felt (at least by the British) that its acquisition had been entirely legitimate. However, as someone pointed out, on closer examination it could equally be shown that at least one British organisation had, in consequence, been guilty of trading with the enemy. As a result, the fort was handed back to the Americans in a ceremony more pantomime than sincere. No Americans were present during the handover as, with full formality, the Stars and Stripes was run up the flagpole to replace the Union Flag, and the British continued to live in, and operate out of, ‘Fort George.’

During the negotiations leading up to the Convention of 1818, the Americans had provided a proposal that the border line along the 49th Parallel should be continued until it reached the Pacific Ocean on the western coast of Vancouver Island. Such a proposition was, to the British, unthinkable. Not only would thousands of square miles of prime land be lost along with the entrance to the Straits of Juan de Fuca, they would also lose the southern access to the Pacific provided by the Columbia River. But in an effort to show good will, they submitted a counter-proposal in which the line would be extended along the 49th Parallel to the point where it met the western loop of the Columbia. From there it would follow the river until it reached the sea. It was an eminently sensible compromise that would release a massive amount of land to the United States, allow both sides passage on the river, and allow Great Britain access to the Pacific south of the Straits of Juan de Fuca. The Americans refused. Finally, an uneasy compromise was reached. The territory (by then known as the ‘Oregon Territory’) would be settled by both sides. The joint occupation would continue for ten years, after which time the problem would be looked at again.

There were problems for both America and Britain in the compromise. The British were not keen to start mass settlement of the region (colonies meant defence, defence meant cost), whereas the Americans had long planned a westwards expansion of their population. On the other hand, all American attempts to start fur-trading in the territory met with failure, as the British interests had so tightly secured the industry that no opportunities remained for outsiders. The British, however, did eventually have to give up Fort George, and moved their headquarters upstream to a newly built ‘Fort Vancouver.’

In 1823, Great Britain, delighted at seeing the success of the revolutions in South America, and already profiting from the trade with the newly independent nations, proposed to the American President, James Monroe, that the two countries form an alliance intended to prevent Spain and Portugal, along with other European allies, from attempting to regain their former colonies. Monroe refused and countered with his own policy. Eventually to be known as the ‘Monroe Doctrine,’ the President declared that no European country should ever again establish a colony anywhere in the Americas. From one point of view, this suited Britain, as the policy would appear to ensure that the United States would be allied with Britain should any European power try to take possession of any part of British North America – although whether or not that was Monroe’s intention is unclear. The only likely problem to arise for Britain would be if she made any arrangement with Russia to take over Russian North America. Monroe’s policy expressly forbade the trading or purchasing of colonies by other powers. Great Britain could not settle too comfortably into the apparent acceptance of the current position of British North America. Monroe’s Secretary of State, John Quincy Adams, also asserted in 1823 that the world should become familiar ‘with the idea of considering our proper dominion to be the continent of North America.’ And that included Canada.

After almost ten years of joint occupation it was time to revisit the 1818 treaty. Once again, there was no agreement regarding the ownership of Oregon Territory. The United States, now under the presidency of the same John Quincy Adams, pushed forward and obtained agreement on the proposition that the 1818 Convention should continue indefinitely, with the provision that either party could withdraw from the Convention upon giving twelve months’ notice.

For another decade the Oregon Territory went about its business without too much difficulty. Protestant missionaries arrived from the east and began their work among the Native Americans. They were followed by a trickle of settlers, but nothing to cause alarm amongst the representatives of the governing Hudson’s Bay Company. Then, suddenly, the attention of both nations was switched dramatically to the north-east.

In 1837, an American-backed rebellion broke out in Upper Canada (Ontario). A Scotsman, William Lyon Mackenzie, leading a band of dissident farmers and demanding a republican government, broke into an armoury and began to march on Toronto. They, and a group of supporters near Hamilton, were quickly defeated by British troops. Fleeing across the border into the United States, Mackenzie found eager support for his rebellion amongst the people of Buffalo, who supplied him with arms and ammunition, including two artillery pieces. Thus encouraged, he set sail across the Niagara River and established himself and a few dozen men on Navy Island, declaring themselves to be ‘The Republic of Canada.’ Supplies continued to be ferried out to the rebels in the steamer Caroline. To cut this supply line, British soldiers landed at Fort Schlosser in New York State, boarded the ship, towed her into the middle of the stream, set her on fire and, in a spectacular underlining of their achievement, sent the blazing vessel plunging over the Niagara Falls. Just weeks later, the rebellion collapsed and the leaders fled into the United States. Matters, however, did not end there. In retribution for the taking and destroying of the Caroline, twenty-two members of the Canadian Refugee Association – a New York-based organisation dedicated to the overthrow of British power in Upper and Lower Canada – boarded the Lake Ontario passenger steamer Sir Robert Peel, landed the passengers and set the vessel on fire, causing her destruction. Even worse, one of the men who been part of the Caroline attack was arrested in America and put on trial. If found guilty, he would hang. At this, Great Britain demanded his release on the grounds that the man had been a member of the British Army. If he was executed, it could – and probably would – mean war. The United States Government agreed with the British demand, but had no power to stop the trial in the State of New York. The trial went ahead, only – to everyone’s relief – to end in acquittal. Nevertheless, tension remained high and strong feelings continued to exist between the two governments – a situation not about to be helped when lumberjacks from the British colony of New Brunswick spent the winter of 1838–39 cutting timber in Madawaska District.

The area chosen by the lumberjacks was claimed by the State of Maine, a claim not supported by the British Government. The problem arose as a result – not for the first time – of poor boundary decisions in 1794 and in the Treaty of Ghent. At that time the surveyors had placed the northern border between Maine and New Brunswick along a range of ‘highlands.’ Later surveys revealed that there were two ranges of highlands, one to the north that followed the southern banks of the St Lawrence River, and another further south that ran across the state broadly in an east-west direction. Naturally, the British claimed the more southern range of hills as the border, whilst Maine insisted that the original treaty had meant the northern range. As far back as 1832, King William I of the Netherlands had been asked to arbitrate in the matter and he had come up with a compromise that took the border along the St John River, a waterway that roughly bisected the region between the two ranges of hills. The British Government reluctantly accepted the decision, but Maine, and the United States Government, refused. Consequently, when it was learned that the lumberjacks were at work to the south of the Maine-favoured border, an American Land Agent was sent to remove the invaders. The lumberjacks, however, kidnapped him.

The reaction was astonishing. The Governor of the State of Maine called out the 10,000 men of the local militia and persuaded the United States Congress to approve a force of 50,000 men and allocate $10 million to fund the emergency. In New Brunswick, where many families were descended from ‘Loyalists’ who had opposed American independence in 1776, thousands of militiamen, desperately keen to assert their rights, were called up and funded by the colonial legislature. Many were veterans of the war of 1812.

The President, Martin Van Buren, was aghast at the thought of an impending war with Britain. A kindly, asthmatic man who was more interested in rescuing the waning fortunes of the Democratic Party than in getting involved in armed conflict, he knew just the man to send to the region.

General Winfield Scott was the son of a Virginia farmer who had fought in the War of Independence. After studying law, Scott entered the army and had distinguished himself during the war of 1812 and during the fighting against the Indians. At well over six feet tall and heavily built, he could hold his own physically as well as in debate – and it was to be the latter attribute that came to the fore on the border between Maine and New Brunswick. Instead of simply taking command of the American forces and squaring up against the colonists, he persuaded the leading officials of both sides to agree to calm the situation down and allow the dispute to be dealt with through negotiation.

In 1842, meetings were held between the United States Secretary of State, Daniel Webster, and his personal friend, Alexander Baring, Lord Ashburton. The negotiations were highlighted by elements of farce in which both sides tried to persuade their own people to accept their decisions by means of discredited evidence, and by a whiff of corruption.

Having come to the conclusion that the Dutch king had probably come to the best conclusion in his compromise proposal of a border along the course of the St John River, both Webster and Ashburton knew they would meet opposition from their own sides. Webster dealt with this by the ‘discovery’ of a map in France which purported to show the border delineated by Benjamin Franklin during the negotiations at Paris in 1782. Much to everyone’s surprise (except, that is, Webster’s), the border apparently agreed by Franklin was along the more southerly range of hills. It followed, therefore, that if Maine, pretending ignorance of the map, was to agree to the St John River compromise, the state would gain more than had been agreed during the Treaty of Paris – and be seen, in consequence, to be the winner in the negotiations.

Astonishingly, on the other hand, in the library of King George III, another map was discovered, one marked, no less, than by the King’s Geographer. This time the border line traced almost exactly the line demanded by the Americans – along the northern range of highlands. For the British, therefore, again pretending ignorance of their map, the St John compromise would make them winner in the negotiations.

The 1842 Treaty of Washington (or the ‘Webster–Ashburton Treaty’) finally put the seal on the north-east border between the United States and British North America. But not everyone was happy. Lord Palmerston, who had been Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs during the Dutch king’s arbitration, criticised the treaty on the grounds that too much had been given away to the Americans. Of greater concern to some people was the fact that Lord Ashburton was married to an American woman, and owned several million acres of land – in Maine.

The avoidance of hostilities in the country’s north-east gave the United States a chance to concentrate on activities along its southern borders. Texas had become an independent republic in 1836 and, after refusals by America to grant annexation as a state, decided to go for full-blown nationhood. British influence had been involved since the earliest days of the republic (a large percentage of the heroes of the Alamo had been British), and Great Britain was soon allowing Texans to trade at British ports, supplying loans and offering to help in negotiations with Mexico. Treaties were signed and a chargé d’affaires appointed.

An illustration of how sensitive this made the Americans over British involvement may be found in the curious incident of the United States Pacific Fleet commanded by Commodore Thomas Jones. Moored with his fleet in the Peruvian port of Callao, Jones watched as HMS Dublin, the flagship of the Pacific Station, sailed into the port before promptly returning to sea. The reason this had happened was that, on her arrival, it was discovered that there was no room for her in the harbour. Jones convinced himself that the British ship had seen his vessel and had left on some secret mission that the British did not want him to know about. Even more strange, Jones came to the conclusion that the British were about to invade California in lieu of Mexican debts. Consequently, Jones took his and other American warships to the port of Monterey, aimed his guns ashore and demanded the surrender of the authorities. When this happened, Jones promptly annexed California in the name of the United States. It was, therefore, with some embarrassment, that he had to give up his conquered territory when he learned that not only had the British no intention of taking California, but Mexico and the United States were still at peace. In compensation, Mexico demanded payment of 1,500 complete military uniforms, enough musical instruments to form a military band and $15,000. Nothing, however, was ever paid.

In 1843, with the help of the chargé d’affaires and the British Minister to Mexico, an armistice was agreed between the Mexicans and Texas. Alarmed at the prospect of increasing British influence in the region, the United States Government agreed to the annexation of Texas. Then, through a demand for more territory, it engineered a war against Mexico which resulted in the United States obtaining Texas as far south-west as the Rio Grande, along with California and New Mexico to the west. Among those who had shown great courage and leadership during the war was General Winfield Scott, who had entered and taken Mexico City itself.

The President, James Polk, now found himself with a problem. The newly acquired Texas was a slave-owning state with the right – if it so wished – to divide itself into four smaller states. Even the acquisition of a single slave-owning state caused grave concerns among the Northern non-slave-owning states, who could see themselves being out-voted in the nation’s legislature. The answer was obvious. The Oregon Territory would have to be acquired as a non-slave-owning state to keep the balance.

There was no lack of support for such an idea. During his election campaign, Polk’s supporters had taken up the chant of ‘Fifty-four Forty or Fight!’, referring to the southern border of Russian North America which was set at 54° 40’ N. Great Britain, on the other hand, had perfectly sound claims to the 670,000 square miles of the whole territory. What she had not gained by war she had achieved through the surveys of Captain George Vancouver. The area had been under the benign stewardship of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who had fostered a continuing good relationship with the Native American tribes. Nevertheless, there had been important changes in the region and, alert to the possibility of new pressure from the United States, the Company had moved its headquarters from Fort Vancouver to Fort Victoria, on the southern tip of Vancouver Island.

There was still the need for good access to the Pacific. The Columbia, despite the dangerous shoals at the entrance, remained a vital part of the Company’s operation, while to the north, still to be developed, was the magnificent deep-water harbour on Puget Sound (named after Vancouver’s first lieutenant). All of which, of course, was known to the United States, who could argue that the priority of discovery of the Columbia was, in fact, theirs, as the entrance to the river had first been made in 1792 when the American Captain Robert Grey first entered the river in his ship Columbia Rediviva. Grey did not go upriver as Vancouver was to do later, but the priority still remained an American achievement.

The most important change, however, was the number of Americans who had made their way to the Oregon Territory. The migration had caused the Company employees to be considerably outnumbered. The newcomers had, for the most part, settled south of the Columbia, mainly in the Willamette Valley. There they had formed an elected provisional government, which provided for the security of land ownership and the introduction of a legal system. Of even greater importance, the legislature barred the introduction of slavery. Consequently, the pressure on the United States Government to take a closer look at the question of the Oregon Territory became almost irresistible, and could not be ignored by either them or the British.

At the Democratic Party national convention of 1844 there had been an absurd demand for the ‘reoccupation of Oregon’ (just as there had been a demand for the ‘reoccupation of Texas’). Those making the demand were firmly of the view that, as the United States had made a treaty with Russia which stated that the Russians would not expand further south than 54° 40’ N, it must follow that that was where the northern boundary of the Oregon Territory must be. Nothing less would be acceptable. What they overlooked was that Great Britain had also made a treaty with Russia under exactly the same terms, giving Britain the same rights as the United States. In addition, the Americans were demanding that, under the Monroe Doctrine, to leave any of the Oregon Territory in the hands of the British would inevitably lead to the creation of a European colony on the continent – something expressly forbidden under the doctrine. The threat of war, however, could be dangerous. The First Opium War (1839-41) had shown that the British could transport an army to the Pacific and challenge and defeat a far larger force. Furthermore, they not only had the most powerful navy in the world, but, as a result of the war, they now had a base at Hong Kong. Any aggression on the part of the Americans would meet a full and vigorous response – and this time the Americans could not depend upon the French to help them out, as had been the case in 1776 and 1812.

At about the same time, more rational and, at first, more reasonable discussions were taking place between American officials and the British Minister in Washington, DC, Sir Richard Pakenham (who had previously been Minister to Mexico). The Americans returned to their offer of the 49th Parallel as the boundary. Packenham turned the offer down and countered with the offer, once again, of a line along the 49th Parallel to the Columbia, then down the river to the Pacific. When the Americans turned that down, Pakenham suggested that the question be put to international arbitration, such as had been tried in the difficulty with the Maine–New Brunswick border. Again, the Americans turned the idea down. Matters then took a more critical turn when, in his inaugural address, President Polk referred to ‘the whole of Oregon,’ a reference which created palpable anger in Britain. This rise in temperature led the new Secretary of State, James Buchanan, to return to the offer of the 49th Parallel – an offer which was rapidly withdrawn when news of it got out and created a storm of protest from the ‘Fifty-four Forty or Fight!’ faction.

In December 1845, Congress was faced with resolutions demanding that ‘the whole of Oregon’ belonged to the United States and that the President should give the British notice that, under the Convention of 1827, the joint occupation agreement would end in twelve months. Across the Atlantic, Britain began to arm and prepare herself for war against the United States.

In America, the response was to take up a two-word phrase that had first appeared in the United States Magazine & Democratic Review at the time of the attempt to annex Texas. Those foreign governments who opposed the annexation were, according to the editor, attempting to prevent ‘the fulfilment of our manifest destiny to over spread the continent allotted by Providence for the free development of our yearly multiplying millions.’ Six months later, the New York Morning News used the phrase ‘manifest destiny’ when referring to the movement of settlers to Oregon. The phrase moved rapidly into public, then political, usage. God – in the shape of ‘Providence’ – clearly intended that the Americans should inhabit the entire continent of North America.