THE PEACE PARTY.

Terrence Malone, with all his frivolity and tendency toward ludicrousness, had a remarkable amount of shrewdness in his composition. He was a bold, harum scarum fellow, as liable to pull the beard of a king, as to kick a pauper. Though he had fared well for an impressed seaman, Terrence had no love for Great Britain. Like others of his race, he made a noble American. One can scarcely find, a more patriotic American than the Irish American, who, driven by tyranny from the land of his birth, transfers his love to the land of his adoption. America has never had a war in which the brave sons of the Emerald Isle have not been found under the star-spangled banner, musket in hand, risking their lives for their adopted country.

Young Malone had a double cause to hate England. His father had been driven from Ireland, when Terrence was but a child, by the tyranny of the British, and he had been made to give almost four of the best years of his life to the service of King George.

In January, 1812, Terrence announced to his father his intention of going to Washington City.

"What the divil be ye goin' to Washington City for, me boy?"

"To see the prisident," was the answer.

"You'd better be goin' to school, I'm thinkin'."

"School, father!" said Terrence, with an impatient shrug of his shoulders. "Faith, don't talk to me of schools and colleges, when it's a war we are goin' to have, sure. My next school will be breakin' heads."

"Be the times, you'll have yer own cracked!"

"Not before I've got even with some of the divilish Britons, methinks."

"What be ye goin' to see the prisident about?"

This interview, the reader will bear in mind, was before war had been declared.

"I am going to tell Prisident Madison to give Johnny Bull a good whippin'."

"Prisident Madison will tell yez to moind yer own business," the Hibernian answered.

"We'll see about that!"

Terrence was determined on making the journey, and he set out next day by the mail coach for Washington City. Public houses in Washington were not numerous then, yet there were a few good hotels, and he put up at the old Continental House. Terrence, with all his reckless impetuosity, proceeded carefully to his point. Where boldness won success, he was bold; where caution and prudence were essential to win, he was cautious and prudent.

He noticed a door opening into a room from the main corridor, over which was tacked a strip of white canvas bearing in large black letters the words:

"HEADQUARTERS OF THE PEACE PARTY."

Men were coming and going from this apartment with grave and serious faces and corrugated brows, as if they had the weight of all the world on their shoulders. Terrence watched the comers and goers awhile and then halted a colored chambermaid, and, in an awe-inspiring whisper, asked who was sick in the room "ferninst." He was told no one. He thought some one must be dangerously ill, people went in and out so softly and talked in such low tones; but she assured him it was the room where the "peace party" met to discuss means to prevent President Madison and congress from declaring or prosecuting war against Great Britain. That those men were congressmen or merchants from Boston and other New England towns, who opposed war.

Terrence was opposed to peace, and he knew no better way to declare war than to begin it on the peace party. A bull was never made more furious at sight of a red flag, than Terrence Malone at the streamer of the peace party. One who knows what Terrence had suffered cannot blame him. At the very outset of the war, the government encountered open and secret, manly and cowardly opposition. The Federalists in congress, who had opposed the war scheme of the administration from the beginning, published an address to their constituents in which they set forth the state of the country at that time, the course of the administration, and its supporters in congress, and the minority opinion for opposing the war. This was fair and, if they acted on their convictions and not from political prejudices, was honorable; but outside and inside of congress there was a party of politicians composed of Federalists and disaffected Democrats, organized under the name of the Peace Party, whose object was to cast obstructions in the way of the prosecution of war, and to compel the government, by weakening its resources and embarrassing the operations, to make peace. They tried to derange the public finances, discredit the faith of the government, prevent enlistment, and in every way to cripple the administration and bring it into discredit with the people. It was an unpatriotic and mischievous faction, and the great leaders of the Federalists, like Mr. Quincy and Mr. Emot, who, when the war began, lent their aid to the government in its extremity, frowned upon these real enemies of their country; but the machinations of the Peace Party continued until the close of the war, and did infinite mischief unmixed with any good. [Footnote: Lossing's "Our Country," Vol. V., Page 1203.]

This was the contemptible Peace Party at whose headquarters Terrence Malone stood gazing. He determined to venture into the den and see what it was like. The hour for the opening of congress had arrived, and men with bundles of papers in their hands and anxious looks on their faces hurried away to the capitol building. Some were congressmen, but most of them were New England merchants. Terrence waited until all were gone, then, as the door of the headquarters stood wide open inviting him to enter, he walked boldly into the apartment.

A man about thirty-five, dressed very neatly, with glasses on, was writing at a table littered with papers.

"Good morning to yez," said Terrence entering.

"Good morning, sir," said the writer, giving him a glance and resuming his writing as if the fate of the nation depended on it.

"An' so this is the place where ye make peace?"

"It's the place where we keep peace. It's the place where we oppose the foolish and suicidal policy of President Madison," was the curt answer.

"Who are you, misther?"

"I am Ebenezer Crane, sir, secretary of the Peace Party."

"Well, Misther Ebenezer Crane," and Terrence glanced at the secretary's long legs, as if he thought the name no misnomer, "will yez answer me a few questions?"

"Certainly," and Mr. Crane threw down his pen, wheeled his chair about and looked vastly important. "What have you to ask?"

"Why do you oppose the war?"

"Why should I favor it?"

"Don't the government promise protection to its citizens? Is not the blissed stars and stripes insulted by the British? Have not they set the murdherin' haythin to killin' innocent women and children on the frontier, and have they surrendered the posts as they should?"

Mr. Crane, with one wave of his hand, swept away every objection.

"That is all nothing!" he cried.

"Nothing! howly mother, sir! do you call it nothing for Americans to be knocked down, carried aboard British ships, to be made slaves, to be flogged until they die, and shot if they object?"

"Oh, those are all senseless, sensational stories, told for effect."

"But I say they are true. I have jist returned from nearly four years service on a British man-o-war."

"But, sir, we must look to the welfare of our country. What are the lives of a few sailors--common fellows--compared to the rich commerce we enjoy with England? The wealthy men of New England would surely be ruined by war."

"Ye blackguard! do ye set up the riches of New England against the life of men because they are poor?"

"Certainly," answered Mr. Crane, taking a cigar from his case, lighting it and proceeding to smoke. "What do Drake and Smoot, whom I represent, care for sailors like yourself? Why, if England wants such wretches, let her have them. We would sell them by the hundred, if we had our way. Caleb Strong, William Palmer and Roger Griswold, three of New England's leaders, will never allow a soldier to march from their states to fight the English--oh, no!"

Terrence was now almost beside himself with rage. He vividly recalled the tyranny of Snipes, and remembered that many of his friends were still slaves aboard the man-of-war. His cheek flamed, and his eye flashed. Slowly rising, he said:

"Do yez set up yer riches aginst the poor lads, better than yerself, who are dyin' by the hundreds in British slavery? Do ye? Why, ye spalpeen, ye have no more heart than a stone!"

"I don't believe your stories in the first place, sir, and I don't care if they are true in the second. What is the life or happiness of such a low creature as yourself to the prosperity of Strong, Palmer or Griswold? I think that impudence has mounted its topmost round, when you dare enter these headquarters."

"So yer for peace?" cried Terrence, his eyes dancing.

"Yes."

"Well, I'm for war!" and with this he struck Mr. Crane a blow between his eyes which smashed his glasses, lifted him from the chair and sent him head first into a waste basket. When Mr. Crane recovered, he was at a loss for awhile to tell whether the house had fallen upon him, or he had been struck with a six pounder. Terrence disappeared from the Continental House, and on the next day applied at the white house to see the president.

"The president's engaged," said the servant. Next day, the next, and the next, he applied for admission and was always met with the same story that the president was engaged, until Terrence began to believe that the door of the administration was closed to him, while he saw members of congress constantly admitted to the inaccessible man.

At last, a gentleman who had witnessed his frequent calls, suggested that he send his card. The Irishman wrote:

"Terrence Malone, Irish American, late impressed seaman on H.B.M. ship Macedonian."

President Madison read the card and appointed a meeting with Terrence, and at the hour appointed the Irishman was at the white house. A servant told him he would have to wait a few moments until Mr. Clay and Mr. Calhoun had finished a discussion with the president. Madison finally decided to have these young members of the house hear the Irishman's story, and he was sent for. Terrence found himself in the presence of two of America's greatest statesmen, Clay and Calhoun.

"Are you the prisident?" he asked of Mr. Madison.

"Yes, sir; these are our friends, Mr. Henry Clay, speaker of the house, and Mr. John C. Calhoun."

"Are you for war or peace?" asked Terrence.

Mr. Madison, smiling, assured him they would much prefer peace, if it could be obtained honorably, but that Great Britain would have to make amends for some of the wrongs she had committed. He urged Terrence to give a detailed account of his impressment and captivity. He did so, omitting nothing from the time he was captured on the schooner bound to Baltimore to his escape. He was summoned a day or two later before a committee of investigation, and narrated the story in all its horrid details.

[Illustration: HENRY CLAY.]

The indignation against the Peace Party, who, in the face of all the evidence, would protest against war, was scarcely less than the indignation against Great Britain. The governor of Massachusetts (Caleb Strong), of New Hampshire (William Plumer) and of Connecticut (Roger Griswold), refused to allow the militia of their respective States to march to the northern frontier on the requisition of the president of the United States. They justified their course with the plea that such a requisition was unconstitutional, and that the war was unnecessary.

Terrence had frequent interviews with the president. His audacity and his intense zeal won the admiration of President Madison and his cabinet, as well as many congressmen. One day, while waiting in the anteroom, he noticed a man whose features were evidently Hibernian.

"Do yez want to see the prisident?" asked Terrence.

"To be sure; but I've waited long," he answered, with just the least brogue in his speech.

[Illustration: JOHN C. CALHOUN.]

"Are ye fer war or peace?" asked Terrence, leading the stranger into a far corner. The stranger looked the young Hibernian in the face for a moment and answered:

"I am not an American; but if President Madison knew what I have to say, he'd give me an attentive ear."

Terrence was shrewd enough to read the face of the stranger, and he knew he had something of great importance to communicate.

"Do yez want to see the prisident, really?" asked young Malone.

"Certainly, I do."

"Lave it all to me," the Irishman answered. Then he explained that he was on the best of terms with President Madison and could get the ear of the president, when an audience would be denied everybody else. He urged the stranger to give him an intimation of his business with Mr. Madison. One Irishman will nearly always trust another, so the two Hibernians repaired to a hotel and, in a close room, the stranger told Terrence that his name was John Henry, and that he had lived for several years in Canada. He told Terrence a story of the perfidy and treason of New Englanders; which produced many uncomplimentary ejaculations from the young Irishman.

Terrence at once sent a note to President Madison, in which he hinted that he had new and strange developments to make. Madison again admitted Terrence, and they arranged for a meeting between the president and Mr. John Henry, who had a letter from Mr. Elbridge Gerry of Massachusetts.

[Illustration: "IT ALL TO ME."]

Late on a stormy night in February, 1812, Terrence conducted Henry to the mansion of President Madison. But little was done at this first meeting. Henry said he had some secrets to divulge which were of very great importance to the people of the United States. An interview was arranged for the next evening. Again Terrence conducted Henry to the president's mansion.

On the way he said:

"Say what you say for war. I want to meet Captain Snipes on say or shore."

When they were closeted in the president's private office, Mr. Madison asked:

"Now, sir, who are you, and what is your business?"

"I'm John Henry, an Irishman, sir," said Henry. "And I want to tell you that for two years efforts have been in progress on the part of British authorities in Canada, sanctioned by the home government, to effect a separation of the eastern States from the Union, and attach them to Great Britain."

"Can that be possible?" cried the president. It was no news to him; for he had heard the rumor before; yet he had always regarded it as groundless;--at least he had doubted the disloyalty of his opponents in the East.

"It is every word true, Mr. President, and I have the very best proof in the world of it."

"What proofs have you?"

"Can I speak freely?"

"Certainly."

"Without danger of arrest or imprisonment?"

"You can."

With this assurance, Henry said:

"I was in the employ of Sir James Craig, governor-general of Canada, in 1809, as a British spy to visit Boston and ascertain the temper of the people of New England."

"You did so?"

"Yes, sir."

"What was the temper of the people of New England?"

"At that time, sir, they seemed to be in a state of incipient rebellion, because of the passage of the embargo act. I was satisfied that the New Englanders were ripe for revolt and separation."

"Well, was any action taken on your report?" asked the president.

"No, sir. My performances in the matter so pleased Sir James, that he promised to give me lucrative employment in the colonial government; but I waited and waited for the fulfillment of that promise, and in the meanwhile Sir James died. I went to England last year to seek remuneration for my services from the home government. I was flattered and cajoled for awhile, and introduced into the highest circles of society; but what did I want of society? I wanted money, and money I must have."

"Did they not pay you?"

"Not a cent."

"What did you ask?"

"I demanded thirty thousand pounds sterling and not a farthing less. I had done the odious duty of a spy for my government. I had risked my fortune, my liberty and my life in the service of England, and she requited me with empty promises."

"They made you no offers?"

"None. I offered to take a lucrative position in Canada."

"And they offered you none?"

"No. At last they seemed to grow weary with my demands, and hinted very strongly that the disaffection in New England toward the government of the United States was nothing more serious than a local partisan feeling, and, as a polite way of dismissing me and getting rid of my demand, they referred me to Sir George Prevost, the successor of Sir James Craig."

"And have you called on Sir George?" asked Mr. Madison, coolly.

"No, sir; I have had enough of their delaying and dallying, and instead of sailing for Quebec, I sailed for Boston, determined, if the government of the United States would pay me for it, to divulge the whole secret of British perfidy to this government."

"We'll pay ye, won't we, Misther Madison?" put in Terrence, with his characteristic impertinence.

"What proofs have you of the perfidy of Great Britain?" asked the president.

"I have letters, sir, and official documents which would make any honorable man blush."

"No doubt of it, yer honor," put in Terrence.

"Have you those papers with you, Mr. Henry?" asked the careful president.

"Some of them."

"Will you produce them, so I may judge what they are?"

"Yes, the prisident and mesilf want to get a squint at the dockymints," put in Terrence.

The very impertinence of Terrence was his success. Mr. Madison could not repress a smile.

Henry laid before the president the strong documentary evidence, which clearly proved that Great Britain, while indulging in the most friendly expressions toward the United States, and negotiating treaties, was secretly engaged in efforts to destroy the young republic of the West, by fomenting disaffection toward it among a portion of the people, and intriguing with disaffected politicians with an expectation, with the aid of British arms, to be able to separate New England from the Union and re-annex that territory to the British dominions.

Madison, who was just about to declare war against Great Britain, was well satisfied of the importance of Henry's disclosures. Examining them carefully, he asked:

"What do you ask for these papers?"

"Lave that all to me, Misther Madison," said Terrence with an earnestness which caused the grave Mr. Madison to smile; but Mr. Madison was not inclined to leave so important a matter with Terrence. He again asked Henry how much he asked for those papers.

"I want one hundred thousand dollars."

"It's too much, Misther Madison; we can't give it," declared Terrence.

Madison, glancing at the impetuous Irishman, said that he could not pass on such an important matter without consulting his cabinet and taking their advice in the matter, and consequently he dismissed his visitors for the present, assuring Mr. Henry that he would give the matter of purchasing his documents serious consideration, and in the course of three or four days at most hold another conference with them. The secret service fund was at the disposal of the president, and he determined to purchase the documents with this fund, if his cabinet would so advise. The advice was given, and he sent a proposition to Henry, offering him fifty thousand dollars for his documents, which consisted chiefly of the correspondence of the parties to the affair in this country and in England.

Henry accepted the offer and was paid the sum for his papers.

Terrence obtained an interview with the president and said:

"Misther Madison, why the divil did yez pay him such a price? If ye'd 'a' left it all to me, I'd won the papers in three games of poker."

The president thanked him and assured him that the government of the United States could well afford to purchase such valuable documents.

"And now, Misther Madison, I am about to lave ye for awhile," said Terrence, "and I want to ask ye a very important question!"

"What is it?"

"Mind ye, if ye say yes, I'm goin' to stand by ye through thick and thin." Mr. Madison assured him that his time was very much taken up, and begged that he would be as brief as possible.

"Are ye going to declare war, Misther Madison? Now ye needn't do any of the fighting yersilf. All I ask is that ye just turn me loose. I've got a frind, poor Sukey, who is still on board the English ship, and I just want permission to go and bring him back."

President Madison assured him that the public would be notified in due time what course the administration would pursue, and that it was his intention to maintain the honor and dignity of the nation to the last extremity.

Terrence left the president and went over to the Continental House to see how Mr. Crane, the worthy secretary, looked with a rotten apple bandaged over each eye. Terrence was arrested for assault and battery, plead guilty, and the patriotic Democrats took up a collection and paid his fine.

The disclosures of the documents procured from Henry, when made public, intensified the indignation of the Americans against Great Britain. The inhabitants of New England were annoyed by the implied disparagement of the patriotism of their section of the Union. Both parties tried to make political capital out of the affair. The Democrats vehemently reiterated the charge that the Federalists were a "British party" and "disunionists," while the opposition declared it was only a political move of the administration to damage their party, insure the re-election of Madison in the Autumn of 1812, and offer an excuse for the war. The acrimony caused by these partisan feelings was at its height, when the New England governors refused to send their militia to the frontier; and the British government, in declaring the blockade of the American coast, discriminated in favor of that section. That the British, mistaking partisan feeling for unpatriotic disaffection, hoped to carry out their plan for disunion, there is no doubt; but the suspicion that the New England people contemplated disunion and annexation to the English colonies was probably without foundation.

Terrence Malone remained in Washington City during the fierce contest between the Peace Party and the War Party. He was a constant thorn in the side of the peace faction, and more than once came to blows with some of the members. When war was declared, he sent the word to president that he was ready to set out at once, and shortly after took command of a privateer, which his father fitted out.

While New England was halting in its support of the war, the people of the South and West were alive with enthusiasm in favor of prosecuting it with sharp and decisive vigor. They had already suffered much from the Indians under British control, and the massacre at Chicago kindled a flame of indignation not easily to be controlled by prudence.

The government resolved to retrieve the disaster at Detroit, by an invasion of Canada on the Niagara frontier. For this purpose, a requisition was made upon the governor of New York for the militia of that State. He patriotically responded to the call, and Stephen Van Rensselaer, the last of the Patroons and a patriotic Federalist retired from public life, was commissioned a major-general and placed in command of the militia. The forces were concentrated at Lewiston on the Niagara River, Plattsburgh on Lake Champlain, and at Greenebush, opposite Albany.

The British had, meanwhile, assembled a considerable force on Queenstown Heights, opposite Lewiston. At midsummer, hostile demonstrations had been made on Lake Ontario and on the St. Lawrence frontier. Both parties early sought to get control of those waters, and the preparation of armed vessels on them was vigorously begun.

An armistice was concluded by General Dearborn. This armistice enabled Brock to concentrate forces at Detroit and compel Hull to surrender.

On the morning of the 13th of October, just after a heavy storm, Colonel Soloman Van Rensselaer passed over the river near Lewiston with less than three hundred men. They routed the British there, who fled toward Lewiston pursued by Captain John E. Wool, who, though wounded, did not relinquish the pursuit.

General Brock and his staff at Fort George hastened to the scene, but were compelled to fly, not having time even to mount their horses. In a few minutes, the American flag was waving over the fort.

Brock rallied his forces and, with fresh troops, pressed up the hill after the Americans, but, after a terrible struggle, was driven back and mortally wounded. General Sheaffe, who succeeded Brock, rallied the troops. Only two hundred and forty Americans were on the heights. Lieutenant-Colonel (afterward Major-General) Winfield Scott had passed over the river to act as a volunteer. At request of General Wadsworth he took active command. The Americans, reinforced to six hundred, were assailed by a horde of Indians under John Brandt. Scott led a charge against them and drove them to the woods; but overwhelming forces of British poured in on the Americans, and Van Rensselaer, who had gone to send over militia, found they would not cross the river, their excuse being that they were not compelled to serve out of their own State.

Overwhelming numbers compelled the Americans to surrender. All the prisoners were marched to New Ark, where Scott came near having an encounter with two Indian chiefs.

On the 13th of October, 1812, the Americans lost, in killed, wounded and prisoners, about eleven hundred men. General Van Rensselaer left the service in disgust and was succeeded by Alexander Smythe of Virginia, who accomplished nothing of importance during the remainder of the season. The situation of the Americans at the close of 1812 was this: The army of the northwest was occupying a defensive position among the snows of the wilderness on the banks of the Maumee River; the army of the centre, under General Smythe, was resting on the defensive on the Niagara frontier, and the army of the north, under General Bloomfield, was also resting on the defensive at Plattsburgh.

So far, the advantages had been altogether with the enemy, who were no more gratified than the Peace Party, with their excellent excuse for saying, "I told you so!"