Alexander Smyth, ca. 1810. Background: “A View of the Lake & Fort Erie From Buffalo Creek.” Watercolor by Edward Walsh, ca. 1810.Credit- Private collection
"Memorable in the Annals of the United States"The Curious Case of General Alexander Smyth, 1812
By Donald E. Graves
In 1812, when the United States declared war against Britain to solve longstanding grievances, Americans were confident that their nation would be victorious. As former President Thomas Jefferson put it, the conquest of Canada (the only place the war could be fought) would be "a mere matter of marching." The problem was that the young republic lacked everything needed to fight a successful conflict—above all, leadership. In the early period of the war, many men received appointments as general who proved totally unfit to command. Perhaps the worst of them was Alexander Smyth.
Alexander Smyth was born in Ireland in 1765 and came to the United States a decade later when his father, a minister of the Episcopal church, took up a pulpit in Virginia. He read the law, eventually setting up a thriving practice in southwest Virginia. Smyth was a good lawyer—in 1806, he successfully prosecuted for the state a sexual assault case that became a landmark decision. He was popular in his community and, in 1792, was elected to the Virginia House of Delegates where he served five terms and later two terms in the state Senate. He was also active in the state militia, reaching the rank of colonel.
Smyth had strong political connections with the governing Democratic-Republican party. In 1808, these connections paid off when the Chesapeake crisis brought the United States to the brink of war with Britain. The regular army was expanded and Smyth was given a colonel's commission and command of the new Rifle Regiment. In 1811, he was directed to prepare a new infantry manual for the Army, as Baron Friedrich von Steuben's "Blue Book" of 1778, the manual of the Continental army, was becoming obsolete. Americans interested in military affairs realized that changes had been brought about by the war raging in Europe and pushed for the adoption of the French Reglement of 1791, the manual of Napoleon’s army. The War Department authorized a translation and Smyth was given the task of preparing an abridgment. His work was completed in early 1812 as the Regulations for the Field Exercise, Manoeuvres and Conduct of the Infantry of the United States, and a general order dated March 13, 1812, authorized it to be used to train the regular army.
Title page and plate from Smyth’s Regulations for the Field Exercise
Manoeuvers, and Conduct of the Infantry of the United States, 1812.
Credit- Private collection
It was not a moment too soon. On June 18, 1812, the United States declared war against Britain. The American Army was nearly tripled in strength but it badly needed organization, training and discipline. In early July, Smyth was appointed inspector-general responsible for these matters, but he was not a popular choice as his arrogance, bombast and irritable nature had made him many enemies. As Major-General Henry Dearborn, his superior, put it: "General Smyth's temper, deportment, and general disposition are not calculated to render him popular or to insure a great store of personal friendship."
In early August 1812, Smyth proceeded to Greenbush near Albany, where Dearborn was concentrating the newly recruited regular regiments. It was Smyth's task to supervise the training of these units and he also organized the army into brigades of two or three regiments. He gave himself command of one of these brigades because, as he explained to Secretary of War William Eustis: "At present I have no command, and my authority as Inspector General is too feeble to effect anything important." At Smyth's request, Dearborn dispatched him and his brigade to the Niagara Frontier.
In the fall of 1812, the war was not going well for the United States. In August, Brigadier General William Hull had surrendered his army at Detroit and also ceded the entire Michigan Territory to Britain. This disaster was a signal to Americans that the conquest of Canada was going to be anything but a "mere matter of marching." A new offensive was planned, this time on the Niagara River, and Major-General Stephen Van Rensselaer of the New York militia was gathering an army at Lewiston.
Smyth arrived in Buffalo in late September. He was under orders to report to Van Rensselaer but rather than reporting in person, which would be more normal, Smyth did so by letter. On September 29, he wrote to Van Rensselaer that he had intended to report in person but "circumstances have determined me to remain" at Buffalo because it seemed to be proper "to encamp the U.S. troops near Buffalo, there to prepare for offensive operations." He added that it was his view that any crossing of the Niagara should take place at or near Fort Erie, opposite Buffalo, although he acknowledged that Van Rensselaer's "instruction or better information, may decide you to give me different orders, which I will await."
This communication could be construed as a deliberate insult to a superior officer, as Smyth was not only failing to carry out his orders, he was also suggesting a major change to the plan of campaign. It was clear that Smyth, a regular army officer, did not deem it necessary to carry out the wishes of a militia general, even if that officer was his superior in rank.
Van Rensselaer replied the next day but did not reprimand Smyth for not reporting in person, though he hoped "soon to have the pleasure of meeting you here." As for changing the plan of campaign, Van Rensselaer commented that, although he might be willing "as a citizen soldier, to surrender my opinion to a professional one," he refused to do so and patiently explained in some detail the reasons for his choice of Lewiston as a crossing point. The two senior officers in the Niagara were thus off to a bad start.
Two days later, Smyth reported that some of his regiments had arrived at Buffalo. They were half-trained recruits but Smyth intended to devote six hours to their drill, although he assured Van Rensselaer that "any orders I receive will be obeyed with alacrity." This proved to be somewhat short of the truth, however, as on October 5, when Van Rensselaer queried when he could expect him at a senior officers' conference at Fort Niagara, he received no reply from Smyth. On October 10, Van Rensselaer decided to cross the Niagara River and attack the village of Queenston on the Canadian bank. He ordered Smyth to march immediately to Lewiston with all the regular troops under his command. The attack, however, was canceled.
On October 12, Van Rensselaer informed Smyth that he intended to attack that night but Smyth was to keep his troops at Buffalo. Smyth replied that the state of the roads were bad and that his men had just received new clothing. They would, therefore, wash on the 13th but could march on the following day, although he warned Van Rensselaer his regulars were "but imperfectly disciplined or trained." He added that the British appeared to have gathered a large force opposite Black Rock and, since the 13th Infantry Regiment and the 2nd Artillery Regiment—both regular army units—had arrived at Lewiston, the time for Van Rensselaer's attack on Queenston was favorable and “may you conquer is my prayer." This was hardly an enthusiastic response. In any case, Van Rensselaer's attack across the Niagara on October 13 was a total defeat that resulted in the loss of about 1,000 Americans killed, wounded or taken prisoner. Eleven days after the battle, Van Rensselaer resigned his command and left for his estate on the Hudson River.
In Command
Alexander Smyth was now in command on the Niagara frontier. He was confident, crowing to Secretary of War Eustis: "Give me a clear stage, men and money, and I will retrieve your affairs or perish." For his part, Dearborn advised Smyth to concentrate his troops, to be prepared to cross 3,000 men over the Niagara and to take the advice of his senior regular officers. He also urged Smyth to "cultivate a spirit of harmony and good understanding" among his units.
Smyth concentrated most of his troops at Buffalo and commenced an intense program of boat construction. He was aided in this work by the fact that Van Rensselaer had concluded a truce with his British opposite number after the defeat at Queenston and it was later extended indefinitely, either side being able to terminate it with 30 hours’ notice. Thus, for the time being, Smyth did not have to worry about surprise enemy action.
Smyth, however, faced very real problems. His troops, both regular and militia, were untrained, poorly clothed, unpaid, living in tents with winter coming and suffering from illness. As for maintaining "harmony and good understanding" among his units, the militia and volunteers proved almost impossible to discipline and desertion was common. Still worse, a unit of volunteers, who were ardent Republicans, tried to burn down a tavern in Buffalo owned by a Federalist. Smyth had to call out regular troops and artillery to quell the disturbance and to post a garrison of regulars in the village to maintain order. Among the worst of his problems was a shortage of provisions and Smyth blamed this on New York Brigadier General Peter B. Porter, a prominent local entrepreneur, who had been appointed the deputy quartermaster general. Relations between the two men became cool.
As October turned to November, both regulars and militia became anxious for any kind of action—otherwise they wanted to go home, in the case of the non-regulars, or build huts for the winter in the case of the regulars. It was clear to Smyth he had to do something or his army would disintegrate, either from desertion or sickness. On November 10, he issued a bombastic proclamation "To the Men of New York," informing them that "In a few days the troops under my command will plant the American standard in Canada." His regulars, he continued, "are men accustomed to obedience, silence and steadiness" and "they will conquer or they will die."
Comparing such paragons to the actual, miserable state of his regular troops was certainly taking liberties. Having got warmed up, a week later Smyth issued a bulletin to "To the Army of the Center," as he called his command, with even riper language: "Soldiers you are amply provided for war. You are superior in number to the enemy. Your personal strength and activity are greater" and "your weapons are longer." In contrast, the "regular soldiers of the enemy are generally old men, whose years have been spent in the sickly climate of the West Indies…. Come on my heroes." In a time when orotund language was common in public life, Smyth's bombast stood out and earned him some unflattering nicknames: "Alexander the Great," "Napoleon the Second” and—most cruel of all—“Van Bladder."
On November 20, 1812, Smyth terminated the truce with the British. This resulted almost immediately in an exchange of artillery fire at either end of the Niagara River. Fort Niagara traded rounds with Fort George in Canada while, at the southern end of the river, British artillery bombarded Black Rock, putting round shot through the house of Brigadier General Peter B. Porter. By November 27, Smyth was ready and issued his orders to his troops—they were to move at dawn the following day to their embarkation point behind Squaw (now Unity) Island. He added the embellishment: "Ye who have 'the will to do, the heart to dare,' the moment you have wished for has arrived. ...... Be strong! be brave! and let the ruffian power of the British king cease on this continent."
During the early hours of November 28, 1812, Smyth had ordered a number of detachments to cross the river and secure certain British batteries and bridges. These parties met with mixed success—one was cut off on the Canadian bank, the others returned without landing. Riding to the embarkation site, Smyth first heard news of the successful landing and, according to Dr. Cyrenius Chapin who accompanied him, rejoiced: "Huzza! Canada is ours! This will be a glorious day for the United States!" Unfortunately, when he learned a few minutes later that one of the detachments had been forced to surrender, his mood changed and "irresolution marked his countenance for the rest of the day."
It was a rotten day for the troops under his command. About 3,500 men assembled but the embarkation was confused and not completed until about mid-day. While the men huddled in the boats the artillery of both sides exchanged fire. Smyth was nowhere to be seen and there was much dissatisfaction in the ranks. In the early afternoon, the general decided to try what might be termed a military "Hail Mary" play—he sent an officer over the Niagara under a flag of truce to the British commandant at Ft. Erie with the suggestion that he surrender the fort "to spare the effusion of blood." The British officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Cecil Bisshopp of His Majesty's 1st Regiment of Foot Guards, who had been appointed inspecting field officer of the Canadian militia, immediately sent back a reply—probably as soon as he stopped laughing—that, if Smyth wanted the fort, he should be prepared to "fight for it." On receiving this blunt response, the general called a council of his senior regular officers who, after discussion, advised him to call off the operation. In the late afternoon, the troops, who had spent much of the day suffering under intermittent showers or rain, were ordered to "disembark and dine".
An eyewitness recorded that there was "much ferment and dissatisfaction" among the troops. This is a gross understatement, as they were furious and verging on mutiny: officers broke their swords and enlisted men smashed their muskets. Some men fired in the air and—inevitably—someone took a shot at Smyth, knocking the belt off his aide-de-camp. There was talk of putting a price on the general's head and a great many volunteers and militia simply melted away. The anger cooled down after Smyth announced that he would soon make another attempt to cross the Niagara.
On November 29, the general ordered both his regular and non-regular units to be at the embarkation point before dawn the next day. He added his usual embellishments: "Hearts of war," he exalted, "Tomorrow will be memorable in the annals of the United States." Unfortunately, it wasn't. Many units did not show up and those that did were late getting to their proper points of departure. The embarkation was muddled and delayed. Smyth decided to delay the operation and the troops were ordered to withdraw into the nearby woods, make fires and camp for the night.
Things went no better on December 1. This time, only about 1,500 men embarked but no orders came to cross the river. It had snowed during the night and the boats were full of snow, so officers let their men walk about on shore to keep warm. The hours passed and there were still no orders to commence crossing. Smyth seems to have been in a state of indecision and, finally, called another conference of senior officers—that shield against responsibility—and they again advised him to cancel the operation. Another riotous scene ensued: shots were fired, the price on Smyth's head was raised and Brigadier General Peter B. Porter, who commanded the New York volunteers, accused Smyth of being an incompetent coward. Smyth, one witness recalled, "prudently kept himself out of sight."
A Marked Man
For the remainder of his tenure of command, Alexander Smyth led a somewhat beleaguered life. If he took his quarters in camp, the guards had to be doubled and the occasional musket round went through his tent. If he took lodgings in a tavern or private residence, the owner was warned that their premises were in danger of being burned. Gradually, the furor died down, no doubt aided by the fact that most of the militia and volunteers voted with their feet and headed for home. Smyth's army was melting away and, in early December, he discharged almost all his non-regular units from service.
Smyth spent much of the first week of December 1812 writing a lengthy report to Dearborn about the debacle of the two attempts to cross the Niagara. He attributed the November 28 failure to a confused embarkation but noted that he had consulted his senior regular officers "in all important movements," as Dearborn had instructed him to do. The failure on December 1 he blamed on the low numbers of regular troops and again emphasized that his senior regular officers had advised him to cancel it.
One thing that was notable in this report was Smyth's treatment of Porter, whom he never refers to by his rank and once as the "contractor's agent." He suggests that Porter was keen to cross the river because he had found that his government contract to provide rations was "a losing one, and would wish to see the army in Canada" as he would not be responsible for supplying it once it crossed the border.
At this time, it was common for official documents to be published in the newspapers. Apparently, Smyth or one of his staff sent a copy of his report, which was dated December 8, to the Buffalo Gazette for publication. That same day it was in Porter's hands and Porter was infuriated. He wrote a quick note to the editor, asking him not to print the report until he had a chance to "give a true account" of the debacles of November 28 and December 1, which he ascribed to the cowardice of General Smyth. This was going too far—Porter had accused Smyth of being an incompetent coward before, but never in such a brazen and public manner. The result was inevitable—Smyth challenged Porter to a duel.
On December 12, the two aggrieved parties and their seconds rowed over to Grand Island and, against military regulations and New York State law, fired their pistols at each other. The island was probably chosen because its possession at this time was disputed between the United States and Britain and, since it was not legally part of the United States, specifically New York, a duel fought on it would not contravene any regulations or law. As it happened, both men missed their targets and, honor satisfied, "the hand of reconciliation was then offered and received." Thus mollified, the two generals returned to the mainland where, legend has it, they dined that night at a local tavern in a spirit of conviviality.
It was clear, however, that Smyth could no longer remain in command, and his request for leave was swiftly granted by Dearborn and Eustis. He left Buffalo on December 21 and traveled to Virginia on a 75-day furlough. There was many a dry eye along the Niagara the day Alexander Smyth rode away—the feelings of the locals are clearly expressed in the words of one resident who remarked that the frontier had suffered enough from the "odious conduct of a demi-brute or whimsical savage who ought to be placed in a museum or sent into the forest with the orang-outang."
Smyth was gone but he was determined not to be forgotten. He and Porter continued their quarrels in print and, in the next several months, long letters written by the two duelists or their supporters appeared in the newspapers. This should come as no surprise as both men were lawyers and politicians—two occupations known for long-winded oratory. Smyth also tried to justify his conduct to the secretary of war, arguing he felt "keenly" that an effort had been "made to deprive him of any opportunity of vindicating his honor." He requested that a court of inquiry be held to investigate his command on the Niagara. "Although I have devoted myself to the service of the United States," Smyth complained "and all my official acts have proceeded from an ardent wish to serve them effectively, yet not having succeeded," he did not wish to appear for an inquiry in Washington "until I can deserve that applause of my superiors."
In January 1813, William Eustis was replaced as secretary of war by John Armstrong, a much different man. Energetic and decisive, Armstrong decided to rid himself of the problematic Virginian and he hit upon a novel method. When new regulations were issued for the organization of the staff in March 1813, the office of inspector-general had disappeared and Alexander Smyth's name was no longer on the list of general officers. In effect, Armstrong had "legislated" Smyth out of the service, thus saving himself the time and trouble of holding an inquiry or possibly a court martial about his conduct.
Not unnaturally, Smyth was puzzled over his status and wrote Armstrong, requesting him to clarify whether "I am considered an officer of the army of the United States, or not." Armstrong does not seem to have replied to this request nor does he seem to have had any further correspondence with Smyth.
The last chapter in this curious tale of one of the early republic's most curious generals came in December 1813, when Smyth sent a petition to Congress. Stating that he had "not done or omitted any thing to the injury of the nation," to prove that that "affirmation is true, he believes he can satisfy a committee or committees of your honorable body, on short notice." Smyth being Smyth, however, he just could not resist a melodramatic flourish. It was impossible, he wrote, for him to return to civil pursuits "while the din of war continues," and he therefore desired "to serve, to die, if heaven wills it, in the defense of his country."
When read before Congress, these words were met with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The members passed the petition on to Armstrong who ignored it. The petition did, however, provide inspiration for one wag, who placed a poem on the door of the House of Representatives:
All hail, great chief, who quailed before
A Bisshopp on Niagara's shore;
But looks on Death with dauntless eye,
And begs for leave to bleed and die.
Oh my!
Thus, a piece of doggerel brought to an end Alexander Smyth's inglorious record as a military commander. He continued, however, in public life, serving three terms in Congress before his death in 1830. Fortunately for the United States, as the war progressed, better military leaders emerged to lead the armies of the republic.
About the Author
Donald E. Graves is an historian of the War of 1812 who has written a number of books on the conflict. The author wishes to thank Dr. Donald Hickey of Nebraska and Pat Kavanagh of Buffalo for providing additional information.