her flag to H. M. S. _Leopard_, after the latter had poured in several
destructive broadsides without return. The _Chesapeake_ had three men
killed and eighteen wounded, and her commander was forced to submit
to the kidnapping of four alleged deserters from his crew. The vessel
had proved herself a slow sailer, and had accomplished nothing in her
cruises. In March, 1813, she was lying in Boston Harbor, her complement
of men not filled and her armament incomplete.
Captain Lawrence, fearing that he might be appointed to her, applied
for the command of the _Constitution_.
High-spirited and sensitive, he had taken offence at the manner in
which his request was received. The Secretary of the Navy entailed the
condition that if neither Captain Porter nor Captain Evans applied for
the command of “Old Ironsides,” Lawrence could have her. Objecting
to this treatment, he was given the appointment unconditionally; but
the next day, to his chagrin, he received a recall of the order, and,
after some vexations, counter-instructions to take command of the
_Chesapeake_, then lying in Boston Roads. Lawrence was prejudiced
against this ship, and disgruntled at his peculiar treatment; but to
his respectful remonstrances the Secretary of the Navy vouchsafed no
reply, and the gallant officer pocketed his pride and went on board his
unfortunate command.
[Illustration: THE “CHESAPEAKE” LEAVING THE HARBOR]
British vessels of war were a common sight from any hill along the New
England coast. Outfitting at Halifax, they hovered about, and were in
constant communication with one another, the smaller vessels seldom
straying far from their towering guard-ships.
While Lawrence was endeavoring to teach the green crew of the
_Chesapeake_ something of discipline and man-of-war customs, a strange
sail boldly made in to the entrance of Boston Roads.
She tacked about, flying signals of defiance. It was the _Shannon_
(38), a prime vessel, magnificently equipped for the express purpose of
meeting a Yankee frigate. She had an unusually numerous crew of picked
men, thoroughly disciplined and well officered. She was commanded by
Captain Broke, a fearless and able officer, one of the best in the
service of Great Britain--a man who feared no danger, and fought with
desire to gain reputation and glory. He had dismissed the _Tenedos_,
line-of-battle ship, and wished to fight alone.
In Low’s _Great Battles of the British Navy_ the author speaks of
Captain Broke sending a formal challenge to the captain of the
_Chesapeake_ to come out and meet “ship to ship, to try the fortunes of
our respective flags.” The English writer adds that “the redoubtable
Captain Lawrence was not backward in accepting the challenge.”
This challenge, a model of the stilted courtesy and frank gallantry
of the day, was never received by the American commander, despite the
statement. It might have made some difference, for it told the number
of men, guns, and armament.
To Captain Broke’s honor be it said that he sought no favor and he had
no fear. An American publication speaks in the following words: “It
is to be deeply regretted that Captain Lawrence did not receive this
gallant challenge, as it would have given him time to put his ship
in proper order, and spared him the necessity of hurrying out in his
unprepared condition to so formidable and momentous an encounter.”
The English exploited in verse and song the victory they had gained. A
series of paintings and engravings representing different phases of the
engagement was designed by Captain R. H. King, R.N., and painted by
Schetky, and dedicated to Captain Sir Philip Bowes Vere Broke, Bart.,
R.N., K.C.B. The King, on hearing the news of the capture, is reported
to have clapped his hands.
That Lawrence fought the action contrary to his own judgment, and was
not sanguine of victory, is shown by a letter in his own hand, written
on board the _Chesapeake_, and sent off by the pilot; for the American
vessel, as she left the harbor, was surrounded by a fleet of small
craft, which came out to see the action. This letter is addressed,
“James Cox, Esq., Merchant, New York.”
The following is a copy of the letter, the original of which is now in
the possession of the author:
_June 1st._
“DEAR JAMES,--By the enclosed you will perceive that Bainbridge and
myself have had a serious difference. It is in a measure, however,
done away, in consequence of an explanation had last evening. You
will pay him one and one-half twentieths of my prize-money, and
demand the same resulting from the capture of the _Java_.... An
English frigate is close in with the light-house, and we are now
clearing ship for action.
“Should I be so unfortunate as to be taken off, I leave my wife and
children to your care, and feel confident that you will behave to
them the same as if they were your own. Remember me affectionately
to our good mother, and believe me,
“Sincerely yours,
“JAMES LAWRENCE.
“P. S.--10 A.M. The frigate is plain in sight from our decks, and
we are now getting under way.”
Trouble soon came; the crew, that had never sailed under Lawrence
before, acted in a listless, half-hearted manner. A villanous
boatswain’s mate, a Portuguese, showed signs of mutinous conduct;
for immediately after the _Chesapeake_ was under way, and Lawrence
had addressed a few words to the crew assembled in the waist, this
scoundrel replied in an insolent manner, complaining that he had not
received prize-money which had been due, he claimed, for some time
past. It was impossible, in view of the fact that he was entirely
unacquainted with the characters of his crew, for Captain Lawrence to
notice this conduct in the manner it deserved. He had had no time to
gain their affections or obtain influence through his personality.
Imagine the scene! With the enemy waiting in the offing, the
disaffected ones were taken to the cabin and there paid the money that
they claimed was owing them. As Lawrence looked about, he longed for
the Yankee tars that had served under him in the _Hornet_ and that he
had hoped to command in the _Constitution_. His heart must have failed
him.
Up went the flag. The English had learned to read without the glass,
“Free Trade and Sailors’ Rights,” the motto painted on it.
As the _Chesapeake_ approached, the English vessel hauled off shore.
It was a beautiful summer day. The water was rippled, and there was
little or no swell. It was a day for target practice. The small craft
either held back or had been left behind as the two combatants,
sailing in silence, drew away from shore.
At 4 P.M. the _Chesapeake_ fired a gun. The _Shannon_ braced back her
main-topsail and hove to. The smoke from the first shot had cleared
away, and the vessels manoeuvred for some minutes to gain the advantage.
Lawrence must have seen that it would have been better had he listened
to the counsels of Bainbridge and others, who had advised him not to
seek a meeting just at that time. It was evident that the _Shannon_
was the better sailer. Several times the newly rove running-gear of
the _Chesapeake_ jammed in the blocks. Her crew were confused, and the
men did not know their numbers at the guns. All exertions were made,
however; but, after having been for some time within pistol-shot,
broadsides were fired with tremendous execution. The first broadside
that the _Chesapeake_ received was a catastrophe in itself; the
double-shotted guns of the enemy tore great breaks in her bulwarks, and
officers who had occupied positions of great danger fell in every part
of the ship. The first shot killed Mr. White, the sailing-master. The
fourth lieutenant, Mr. Ballard, received a mortal wound; and at this
same moment Captain Lawrence was shot through the leg by a musket-ball
from the _Shannon’s_ tops. He made no outcry, but, leaning against the
companion-way for support, continued to give his orders in a cool, firm
voice. The ships were now so close that the powder smoke blackened
their white streaks, and three broadsides were exchanged in quick
succession that were frightful in their results.
The English had placed expert riflemen in their tops, and three men
were shot successively from the _Chesapeake’s_ wheel. The American ship
fell off from her proper course, and the _Shannon_ veering close, her
after-port was caught by the _Chesapeake’s_ anchor. The ill-luck of the
latter vessel had followed her. For some time she could not bring a gun
to bear, while the Englishman from his foremost guns raked her upper
decks, killing and wounding the greater portion of the men there.
It had been for a long time a superstition with our cousins across the
water that naught could resist the onslaught of an English boarding
party. An exception, however, has been made in favor of the “damned
Yankees” by a well-known English writer.
Seeing that the spar-deck of the _Chesapeake_ was devoid of defenders,
a party of the _Shannon’s_ men took advantage of a favorable chance,
and, without waiting for orders, jumped on the American’s deck. Captain
Lawrence, still leaning heavily against the rail, and weak from loss
of blood, had scarcely time to call his boarders to repel the attack
when he received a second wound, from a bullet, in the abdomen. He fell
into the arms of Lieutenant Cox, who commanded the second division,
and was hurrying up from below. At this moment Captain Broke, of the
_Shannon_, bravely headed a second boarding party, and sprang over the
railing of the _Chesapeake_. Lawrence saw the danger as he struggled,
with Cox’s help, to rise from the deck.
“Don’t give up the ship! don’t give up the ship!” he said, and repeated
it over and over as they carried him down the companion-way.
A hand-to-hand struggle now ensued. The only American officer
remaining on the upper deck was Lieutenant Ludlow. He was so weakened
and disabled by numerous wounds that he was incapable of personal
resistance, and the small number of British succeeded in obtaining
possession before those from below could swarm up to the defence.
An account gathered from an officer after the surrender speaks as
follows:
“We were greatly embarrassed in consequence of being unacquainted with
our crew. In one instance, in particular, Lieutenant Cox joined a party
of the enemy through mistake, and was made sensible of his error by
their slashing at him with their cutlasses.”
Lawrence, lying below in the wardroom, suffering agony, heard the
firing cease, and, having no officer near him, he ordered the surgeon
who was attending his wound to hasten on deck and tell his followers to
fight on to the last, and never strike the colors, adding:
“They shall wave while I live.”
But nothing could be done. A ship without a captain is a man without
a soul. The fate of battle was decided. It was mere waste of life to
continue, and Lieutenant Ludlow gave up the _Chesapeake_.
There was the utmost confusion during the latter part of the battle,
but accounts differ in regard to the details. A hot-headed boy fired
at an English sentry placed at a gangway, and started an action that
resulted in Lieutenant Ludlow receiving a cutlass wound in the head
which fractured his skull and proved fatal. An English authority, in
speaking of the hauling down of the stars and stripes, recalls that
Lieutenant Wall, one of their own officers, was killed, and four or
five men fell, from a volley delivered by their own people from the
tops of the _Shannon_, “for in the hurry and excitement the Yankee flag
was hoisted uppermost.”
Thus terminated one of the most remarkable combats on naval record. The
action had lasted over a quarter of an hour. There is little use in
surmising what might have occurred had not the ships run foul of each
other.
The _Chesapeake_ had received little injury to affect her safety, while
the _Shannon_ had several shots between wind and water, and could not
have sustained an action at gunshot distance for any great length of
time.
The two ships presented terrible spectacles, says a witness. “Crowded
with wounded and the dying, they resembled floating hospitals, sending
forth groans at every roll.”
The brave Broke had received a severe wound in the head, and was lying
delirious on board of his own vessel. He constantly inquired for the
fate of his gallant adversary, and kept speaking of the “masterly
style” in which the latter had brought the _Chesapeake_ into action.
Lawrence, though conscious, sealed his lips and never spoke, though
suffering great bodily pain, making no comment upon the battle. He
lingered four days, and finally expired.
His body was wrapped in the colors of his ship and laid upon the
quarter-deck of the _Chesapeake_, to be conveyed for burial to Halifax.
At the time of his death he was but thirty-two years of age, sixteen
years of which had been passed in the service of his country.
Great were the rejoicings at the British port when the two vessels
sailed in, and our hearts cannot fail to be touched by the honors paid
on this occasion by the British to the departed American hero.
His pall was borne by the oldest captains in the British service that
were then in Halifax, and the naval officers crowded to yield the last
honors to a man who had been so lately their foe. There is a sympathy
between lofty souls that knows no distinction of clime or nation.
As usual, much controversy over the numbers engaged and the weight of
armament was aroused.
So far as can be learned, the crews were nearly matched, each numbering
about four hundred.
The _Shannon_ lost twenty-four killed, including three officers, and
fifty wounded. The _Chesapeake_, forty-seven killed and ninety-nine
wounded.
Lawrence’s first lieutenant was killed, and all the surviving
lieutenants wounded, as were also five midshipmen and the chaplain.
Lieutenant William Cox, whose court-martial attracted much attention
after the investigation into the loss of the _Chesapeake_, was
doubtless a victim of the chagrin that the country felt at England’s
victory. Cox had fought bravely throughout the early part of the
action, and there is much to prove that his going below with the
wounded Lawrence was in compliance with the latter’s orders.
Lieutenant Provo Wallis, who brought the _Chesapeake_ as a prize into
Halifax, died within the last few years, an admiral, the oldest naval
officer then living in the service of Great Britain.
IX
THE “ENTERPRISE” AND THE “BOXER”
[September 5th, 1813]
[Illustration: MEMORIAL MEDAL IN HONOR OF CAPTAIN WILLIAM BURROWS]
[Illustration: MEDAL PRESENTED BY CONGRESS TO LIEUTENANT EDWARD R. McCALL]
William Burrows was one of those men from whose early training and
development of character great things might have been expected. He
was born in 1785, near Philadelphia, and as a boy he had marked
peculiarities that presaged somewhat the eccentricities that were shown
by him in after-life.
His father was wealthy, and, being a man of accomplished mind and
polished manners, he determined to fit his son for no profession, but
intended to give him the best education that could be had. But the boy
seemed to show little desire to master that which would only fit him to
enjoy the better a life of leisure. A desire for travel, a wild longing
for the sea and for ships, manifested itself before he was twelve years
old. He cherished a solitary independence of mind, and did not indulge
in much of the playfulness or the pranks of boyhood.
At last, seeing that it was impossible to break him of his desire for
a seafaring life, the whole course of his education was changed, and
before he had trod the deck of a vessel he was instructed in naval
science. This he took up with avidity, and the intense hatred for
mathematics he had shown hitherto entirely disappeared. In November,
1799, a midshipman’s warrant was procured for him, and the following
January he joined the corvette _Portsmouth_, and sailed for France. He
served on board various ships of war until 1803, when he was ordered to
the frigate _Constitution_, under Commodore Preble. He distinguished
himself in the Tripolitan war, and centred all his pride in becoming a
thorough and accomplished sailor. Being mortified by the appointment of
some junior officers over his head, he attempted to resign the service
just previous to the outbreak of the second war with Great Britain; his
resignation was not accepted. However, after much trouble, he received
a furlough, and made a trip to China as first officer on board the
merchant ship _Thomas Penrose_, which vessel he saved on one occasion
by his good seamanship. What was his delight, upon coming back to his
country, to find that his friends had been working for him, and that he
had been appointed to the command of the brig _Enterprise_, 16 guns, at
Portsmouth! His character immediately underwent a change. He threw off
the misanthropic manner and the morose feelings that had characterized
him, and showed such knowledge and despatch in outfitting his little
brig that she was probably as well equipped as any vessel of her
tonnage in any service, and her crew as well trained.
On the 1st of September the _Enterprise_ sailed from Portsmouth on a
cruise to the southward. She encountered light weather and baffling
winds, and saw no sail until early on the morning of the 5th, when
a brig was espied inshore getting under way. For some time the
_Enterprise_ tacked to and fro, unable to ascertain the character of
the stranger. But soon all doubts were put aside by seeing the brig
display two flags, one at each mast-head; and although some miles
distant, she fired a gun, as if in challenge.
The _Enterprise_ hauled up on the wind and stood out to sea, preparing
for action. Then followed one of the strange circumstances which
happened so often in those days. The wind died away, and for six
hours or more the two enemies drifted about in a dead calm, watching
each other through their glasses, and preparing for the conflict that
would take place as soon as the breeze would enable them to lessen the
distance between them.
At half-past two in the afternoon it came, from the southwest, a light
wind that gave the _Enterprise_ the advantage of the weather-gage. It
took only a few minutes to find out that, so far as sailing went, the
two vessels were on equal terms, and at 3 P.M. Burrows shortened sail,
squared his yards, and bore down before the wind. He hoisted an ensign
at each of his mast-heads and another at the peak, firing a gun to
answer the previous challenge of the morning. Then, in silence, the two
vessels neared. Closer and closer they came without a shot being fired,
the men at the guns being eager to commence, and the officers anxiously
awaiting word from the young commander (Burrows was but twenty-eight),
who was walking quickly to and fro alone on the quarter-deck.
When within half pistol-shot the Englishman came up into the wind and
gave three cheers, immediately letting go his starboard broadside. The
cheers and the broadside were returned, and the action at once became
general.
Burrows had the opportunity for which he had been praying. He noticed
that the training of his crew was showing to good effect; all the care
and trouble he had taken were now being paid for.
He had turned to speak to Lieutenant McCall, to attract attention to
the way in which the enemy was being hulled, when a musket-ball struck
him in the body, and he fell. McCall bent over him. “Don’t take me
below,” he said, as he lay on the deck. “Never strike that flag.”
Maybe the recollection of the words of the great Lawrence influenced
him as he spoke. They brought a hammock from the nettings and placed it
underneath his head, and McCall assumed the active command.
This had happened during the first eight minutes of the engagement, and
so accurate was the gunnery of the Americans that the main-topmast and
the topsail yard of the Englishman were soon shot away, and a position
gained whence a raking fire was kept up for some twelve minutes.
Suddenly it was noticed that the enemy was not replying, although
the colors were still flying at the mast-heads.
[Illustration: THE “ENTERPRISE” HULLING THE “BOXER”]
McCall gave orders to cease firing, and then through the smoke came a
hoarse voice hailing the American brig. “Cease firing there!” it said.
“We have surrendered.”
“Why don’t you haul down your colors?” returned McCall through the
trumpet.
“We can’t, sir. They are nailed to the mast,” was the reply.
A boat was lowered from the _Enterprise_, and McCall climbed to the
deck of his late antagonist. She proved to be His Britannic Majesty’s
brig _Boxer_, 14 guns, that a few minutes before had been commanded by
Samuel Blyth, a brave officer, who burned to distinguish himself, and
had gone into action determined to follow the example of Sir Philip
Vere Broke, and lead “a captured Yankee into Halifax Harbor”--so he
had expressed himself. But he had not lived to see the outcome of the
action. At the same time that Burrows fell on board the _Enterprise_,
Blyth was killed by a cannon-shot on the quarter-deck of the _Boxer_.
His first officer came back with Lieutenant McCall, and approached the
wounded Burrows, who yet refused to be carried below. The doctor had
pronounced that he had but a few hours at most to live.
When he received the sword of his enemy, he grasped it in both hands.
“I am satisfied,” he said; and soon afterwards he was covered with the
flag below in his own cabin--“a smile on his lips,” wrote one of the
officers.
As usual, much controversy was excited in regard to the numbers of crew
and armament of the two vessels.
An extract from a letter from Commodore Hull to Commodore Bainbridge,
dated September 10th, 1813, is of great interest. Hull writes:
“I yesterday visited the two brigs, and was astonished to see the
difference of injury sustained in the action. The _Enterprise_ has
but one eighteen-pound shot in her hull, one in her main-mast, and
one in her foremast; her sails are much cut with grape-shot, but no
injury was done by them.
“The _Boxer_ has eighteen or twenty eighteen-pound shot in
her hull, most of them at the water’s edge; several stands of
grape-shot in her side, and such a quantity of smaller grape that
I didn’t undertake to count them. Her masts, sails, and spars are
literally cut to pieces; several of her guns dismounted and unfit
for service. To give an idea, I inform you that I counted in her
main-mast alone three eighteen-pound shot-holes.
“I find it impossible to get at the number killed, as no papers are
found by which we can ascertain it. I, however, counted upwards of
ninety hammocks that were in her nettings, besides several beds
without hammocks. I have no doubt that she carried one hundred men
on board.”
The exact number on board the _Enterprise_ was one hundred and two.
In addition to the particulars thus officially given, from other
sources it was ascertained that the _Enterprise_ rated as 12 guns, but
carried 16--viz., 14 eighteen-pound carronades and 2 long nines; her
officers and crew consisted of one hundred and two persons, and her
burden was about two hundred and sixty-five tons.
The _Boxer_ rated as a 14-gun brig, but carried 18, disposed as
follows: 16 eighteen-pound carronades in her broadsides and 2 long
nines on deck. She was very heavily built, and was about three hundred
tons in burden.
Soon after the arrival of the _Enterprise_ and her prize at Portland
the bodies of the two dead commanders were brought on shore in
ten-oared barges rowed at minute strokes by masters of ships, and
accompanied by a procession of almost all the barges and boats in the
harbor. Minute-guns were fired from the vessels, the same ceremony was
performed over each body, and the procession moved through the streets,
preceded by the selectmen and the municipal officers, and guarded by
the crew of the _Enterprise_, all the officers of that vessel and of
the _Boxer_ acting as joint mourners.
It is a strange fact that Burrows had never been in a battle before,
and that McCall, on whom had devolved the responsibility of command,
had never previously heard the sound of a hostile shot.
The losses during the action were, as near as could be ascertained, as
follows: