bore down upon the _Essex_, part of whose crew had been given shore
leave; but before the tars had gone far into the town they saw the
approaching sails, and some crowded into the little native boats that
were hauled up along the shore; many even started to swim back to their
vessel.
The drum rolled and flags went up to the _Essex’s_ mast-heads; but
Hillyar at that moment respected the international law, hauled his
wind, and went back to his blockading.
After a consultation with Lieutenant Downs, it was decided by Porter
that the period of inaction must be broken. A rendezvous was appointed,
and it was agreed that the _Essex_ should allow the British ships to
chase her offshore, and give the _Essex Junior_ a chance to make her
escape.
The very next day after arriving at this decision the wind came on to
blow fresh from the southward, and then followed a chapter of accidents
as disastrous as ever happened to any one unlucky vessel.
Even in yacht-racing the best boat does not always win; no allowances
are made for accidents, hard luck is an element that cannot be
forestalled, and thus it will always be in naval warfare. It must be
confessed that the fates were against America on this day, the 28th of
March.
The wind, which had started with a fresh breeze, grew stronger and
stronger, and, the anchorage being hard ground, the _Essex_ began to
drag her anchors seaward. Suddenly her larboard cable parted, and
she went, stern foremost, at a good rate of speed towards the harbor
entrance. The adventure could be put off no longer. Trusting in the
superior sailing of the _Essex_ to be able to work to windward, Porter
hoisted his topgallant-sails, braced around his yards, and came close
upon the wind.
The British vessels, off to leeward, crowded on all sail. In the
white-caps there was very little sea, for the fitful wind was new and
off the land.
It looked as if the _Essex_ were going to escape; but just as she
rounded the point, the muzzles of her guns almost in the water, another
link in the chain of unfortunate circumstances was forged; there was a
crash, and the main-topmast went by the board, broken short above the
top. The men who were then lying out upon the yards went down with the
great spar over the side, and all were drowned. The _Essex_ brought up
as if she had struck a shoal.
The English ships were now coming fast. Porter had no alternative but
to endeavor to get back to the protection of the port; but he could
not reach his former anchorage, hampered as he was by the wreckage at
his side. Therefore he made secure all sail upon his foremast and ran
for shore, anchoring there about a pistol-shot distance from the beach,
and three-quarters of a mile to leeward of the battery on the east side
of the harbor. Here he worked industriously to clear his decks and cut
away the tangled wreckage, but in the midst of this the crew of the
_Essex_ saw that they were not to be unmolested.
Hillyar had determined to take advantage of the moment the _Phoebe_ and
_Cherub_ came down before the breeze, which was now dying away, and,
breaking all precedent of neutrality, they opened up their broadsides
upon their almost helpless antagonist. It was nearly four o’clock when
the first gun was fired.
Porter, seeing that the action was going to begin, endeavored to get a
spring upon his cable, and bring a broadside to bear upon the British
ships. He hoisted every flag he had, at every point where he could
reeve a halyard, awaiting quietly the nearer onslaught, and praying for
close quarters.
The _Phoebe_ placed herself under the stern, and the _Cherub_ on his
starboard bow; but so hot was the _Essex’s_ answer to the latter
that she bore up and ran under his stern also; and now followed such
slaughter as has hardly been equalled in naval warfare. From their
positions they raked the hull of the _Essex_ through and through,
cutting long gashes in her sides, and aiming with precision, as
if they were firing for practice at a helpless hull. Against all
this destructive cannonade Porter could only bring to bear three
long 12-pounders, which he had run out of the stern ports and the
cabin-windows, and well were they manned and served.
Two or three times did he manage to get a spring upon his cable, and
had half turned his broadside towards the enemy, but every time was
the hawser shot away, and the poor ship drifted back to her almost
defenceless position. Some of the round shot and whole charges of grape
from the _Phoebe’s_ guns swept the _Essex’s_ decks from stern-post to
the heel of her bowsprit. Whole crews were slaughtered as they worked
the few guns able to be brought to bear; but as fast as the men were
shot or blown away their places were filled by others. At one gun
fifteen men were killed, and as many wounded and carried below.
At this point in the combat Hillyar signalled the _Cherub_, and they
both drew off to repair their damages, that were far from slight.
Again in a few minutes they came down before the wind, and took a new
position athwart the _Essex’s_ bows. To this fire Porter could not
bring a single gun to answer. Again the decks of the _Essex_ were red
with blood; there had been no time to move the wounded, and the dead
lay huddled about in all directions. Now the shots even entered the
cockpit, and the men were killed as they lay on the operating-tables
under the doctor’s knife. To add to the horror, the _Essex_ had caught
on fire forward and aft.
Still undismayed, Porter determined to close with the enemy. The only
sail that could be hoisted, owing to the mangled condition of the
rigging, was the flying-jib. He raised this, cut his cable, and ran
down on both ships, with the intention of boarding the _Phoebe_ if
possible.
At the prospect of being able to fight back, his men revived again, and
a cheer ran along the shattered decks.
As the running-gear of the enemy was still intact, they easily kept
out of the _Essex’s_ way, the _Phoebe_ edged off, and, choosing her
distance, kept up her tremendous firing. Putting his helm hard down,
Captain Porter, finding the wind had shifted slightly, determined to
run his ship on shore, land the crew, and blow her up. He approached
once more within musket-shot of the sandy beach, when, in an instant,
the wind shifted from the land, as if the British had bribed the
elements, and once more the _Essex_ was driving down upon the _Phoebe_.
But her tiller-ropes were shot away, and the poor hulk was totally
unmanageable.
At this moment one of the strangest incidents of the whole affair
occurred.
Lieutenant Downes of the _Essex Junior_, which still lay at her old
anchorage under the guns at the battery, loaded one of his boats and
rowed through the fierce fusillade down to his superior officer. He
came on board through a port, but his services could be of no avail.
After a consultation, Porter ordered him to return to his own ship, and
be prepared for defending her or destroying her in case of an attack.
So Downes loaded his boat with wounded, and, leaving some of his crew
on board the _Essex_ to make room for them, he started to make his way
back to his own little vessel. The enemy did not respect his cargo or
his gallant action, but opened a hot fire upon him as he returned.
Luckily, however, the small cutter escaped swamping, and the men at the
long oars jumped her through the water at a rapid rate, despite the
plashing of the bullets all around them.
Horrible now was the position of the American frigate. Her commander,
in his desperation, persisted in the almost hopeless conflict, and
succeeded, by bending a hawser to the sheet-anchor, in bringing his
ship’s head around; the few remaining guns of his broadside opened once
more, and, strange to say, the _Phoebe_, which received this last and
almost expiring effort, was beaten off; but the hawser parted, and with
it failed the last hope of the _Essex_.
The flames that had started on her gun-deck and in her hold were
bursting up the hatchways; a bundle of cartridges exploded, killing two
men; and word was given out that the fire was near the magazine! Every
boat was cut to pieces; it was three-quarters of a mile from shore.
Thinking that the ship might blow up at any moment, Porter gave orders
to those who could swim to jump overboard and make for land.
The few remaining on board with the commander extinguished the fire.
Porter immediately summoned a consultation of his officers, and was
surprised to find that only one responded--Acting Lieutenant Stephen
Decatur McKnight; the others were killed, or below, disabled by their
wounds.
The late Admiral Farragut, who was a midshipman on board the _Essex_,
had displayed wonderful courage throughout the engagement. He was one
of the few midshipmen who were able to keep the deck.
Nothing could be done. The enemy in the smooth water had chosen their
distance, and were firing by divisions in a deliberate, careful way,
with coolness and accuracy. Almost every shot struck, and at twenty
minutes past six Captain Porter, almost weeping from the excess of
his grief, gave orders to strike the colors. It is probable that the
enemy did not perceive his action; for ten minutes longer the terrible
destruction continued; and once more, thinking that Hillyar was going
to show no quarter, the brave American was about to hoist his flag
again and fight until he sank, when the fire of the enemy suddenly
ceased.
[Illustration: THE “ESSEX” BEING CUT TO PIECES]
Thus ended one of the most bloody and obstinately contested actions in
naval record. Out of the 255 men composing her crew, the _Essex_ had
but 151, including some of the wounded, able to stand on her decks; 58
were killed outright, 50 wounded, and 31 had been drowned.
The inhabitants of the city during the action had crowded to the shore.
Their sympathies had been all with the American. When they had seen
the various times when the _Essex_ appeared to gain a slight advantage
their cheers could be heard coming across the water. So close had the
action been fought that many of the round shot from the _Phoebe’s_ guns
had struck the land, and some of the spectators had been wounded.
When the first British officer boarded the captured vessel, so shocking
was the sight that met his eyes that, used to scenes of carnage though
he was, he staggered back and almost fainted, struck with the sickening
horror.
The loss on the _Phoebe_ and _Cherub_ has never been ascertained, but
it must have been severe. The former had received eighteen 12-pound
shot below her water-line; her first lieutenant was killed, and her
spars were badly wounded. It was with some difficulty that she had been
kept afloat, but it was with more difficulty still that the _Essex_
could be prevented from going to the bottom.
Captain Porter and his crew were paroled, and permitted to return to
the United States in the _Essex Junior_, her armament having previously
been taken out. When off New York Harbor they were overhauled by
a razee frigate, the _Saturn_, of His Majesty’s service, and the
authority of the commander of the _Phoebe_ to grant a passport to his
prisoners was questioned.
All night the _Saturn_ held the unarmed _Essex Junior_ under her lee;
but the next morning, taking advantage of a slight gray fog, Porter put
off in his boat and rowed thirty miles to the shore, landing safely on
Long Island.
To quote from the contemporaries again:
“His reception in the United States has been such as great service
and distinguished valor deserve. The various interesting and romantic
rumors that had reached this country concerning him during his cruise
in the Pacific had excited the curiosity of the public to see this
modern Sindbad; and, arriving in New York, his carriage was surrounded
by the populace, who took out the horses and dragged him, with shouts
and acclamations, to his lodgings.”
The American commander’s own account of the affair, which appears in
a little volume entitled _Porter’s Narrative_, shows well the spirit
of this doughty old seaman, who, to use the expression applied to him,
“had rather have fought than ate.”
So virulent, however, were his tirades against the conduct of Captain
Hillyar that it is only just to take into consideration that the latter
commander, by refusing to take advantage of the many circumstances,
would have missed entirely the object of his sailing from England; and
his conduct has found many defenders among the writers of history on
the other side of the water.
The honor rolls of the United States navy show the records of many
a family history, and the name Porter has been associated with the
service from the Revolution to the present day. The late Admiral David
D. Porter was the younger son of the David Porter of _Essex_ fame, and
he had been named after his father, who was a doughty old sea-captain
of the Revolution.
The second David Porter was born at Boston on the 1st of February,
1780. Thus he was but thirty-two years of age at the outbreak of the
war with Great Britain, and his school of training had been the same as
that of all the younger officers who now found themselves for the first
time in command. He was with Bainbridge in the _Philadelphia_ when
that frigate was captured by the Tripolitans in 1803, and he suffered
imprisonment with the rest of the officers during the time that Preble
was endeavoring to liberate them. He had the honor of making the first
capture of a regular navy vessel of the war, when, in July, the _Essex_
compelled the _Alert_, of 20 guns, to lower her flag.
XIII
THE “PEACOCK” AND THE “EPERVIER”
[April 29th, 1814]
[Illustration: MEDAL PRESENTED BY CONGRESS TO CAPTAIN LEWIS WARRINGTON]
“Captain L. Warrington, of Virginia, has been given the command of the
_Peacock_, sloop of war of 18 guns. He expects soon to set sail and
cruise to the southward in search of the enemy.”
Such is the personal note appearing in that enterprising newspaper _The
Register_, published in March, 1814.
The Captain Warrington referred to was but little known to the country
at large, but those in a position of influence in the Navy Department
must have discerned his worth and well estimated his valor, for they
had given him command of the gallant little _Peacock_, of 18 guns
(really mounting 22) and a crew of one hundred and sixty men.
In the middle of March he sailed from New York Harbor, and cruised,
without events of much importance, along the Florida shore as far as
Cape Canaveral. On the 29th of April, in latitude 27° 47´ north and 80°
9´ west longitude, the lookout spied three sails off to the windward.
From the cut of the third, a brig, it was easy to mark her as a
man-of-war.
Upon the appearance of the _Peacock_ the merchant men hauled their
wind, and the brig bore away for the American. She gallantly commenced
the action, and at no time showed a disposition to take advantage of
being to windward and escaping with her consorts.
Neither vessel hailed, and there was little manoeuvring. They began
to fire at each other as soon as they were within range. In the
beginning of the action the _Peacock_ received two 32-pound shot in her
fore-yard, and her head-sails were rendered almost useless. She was
compelled to run at large; and again was proved, what no authority on
the other side could ever deny, the infinitely superior gunnery that
existed under the system in vogue in the American navy.
For a long time after the war there was much controversy concerning the
weights of armament of the vessels engaged in single actions between
this country and Great Britain. In this affair it is only just to say
that the _Peacock_ carried thirty-two more in her crew; the number of
guns was exactly the same, but the _Peacock’s_ broadside was about one
and one-quarter pounds heavier to the gun.
The action was continued for some time at close quarters, and once
Captain Warrington drew off and hailed to ascertain whether his
antagonist had struck, as her flag had been shot away.
[Illustration: THE “PEACOCK” CAPTURES THE “EPERVIER”]
On renewing the engagement the uselessness of continuing to fight was
soon made apparent to the commander of the _Epervier_. She had received
no less than forty-five shot in her hull, and had twenty-two men
killed and wounded; the main-topmast was over her side. In fact, all
her standing rigging and spars were injured, and five feet of water was
already in her hold.
In hauling off to count up his injuries, Warrington discovered, to his
delight, that not one round shot had reached his hull, that not one of
his crew was killed, and only two were wounded. The effect of this news
and the easy victory stimulated the Americans to tremendous exertion in
trying to save the prize.
Upon boarding her it was discovered that she carried $118,000 in
specie, and must have been a fine vessel when she commenced the action.
With great difficulty the Americans succeeded in stopping some of the
shot-holes beneath water, and turned all attention to caring for the
prisoners and wounded, reeving new rigging and staying the tottering
main-mast.
The prize had struck at 11 A.M. At sunset she was in a comparatively
safe position, and sail could be made. To his sorrow, the American
commander had found upon boarding the _Epervier_ that three impressed
American seamen by the names of Johnson, Peters, and Roberts had been
killed. Often and often had it occurred that the impressed sailors
for whom the United States had gone to war had been compelled to take
up arms and serve the guns directed against the vessels of their own
country. The anger at the news of these outrages must have done much
to animate the seamen who sought to revenge them.
A contemporary speaks of the _Epervier_ in this fashion: “She is one of
the finest vessels of her class belonging to the enemy, built in 1812.
She appears to have been one of their ‘bragging vessels,’ for it is
said that when she left London bets were made that she would take an
American sloop of war or small frigate.” The odds must have been laid
against events of that character thereafter.
Warrington determined to save the prize if possible, and placed her in
command of Lieutenant J. B. Nicholson, with orders to proceed at once
to Savannah. Knowing, however, that British vessels thronged the waters
along the coast, Warrington determined to convoy his prize to port.
He had hardly come within sight of land when two large frigates were
discovered to the northward and leeward.
The _Peacock_ spoke the _Epervier_, and, after some conversation,
a plan was agreed on. They were abreast of Amelia Island, and the
frigates were fast approaching and crowding on all sail.
Lieutenant Nicholson shouted to Captain Warrington to take off the crew
from the _Epervier_ and leave him and his sixteen men to handle her.
Warrington complied, and endeavored to draw off the on-comers, it being
his intention to try to slip into St. Mary’s. Only one frigate fell to
the ruse, and came about upon the _Peacock’s_ trail. The _Epervier_,
which drew little water, kept well inshore, and under a light breeze
made good headway. The wind, however, soon died to almost a calm,
and the big vessel outside in the deeper water lowered her boats and
manned them all, intending to cut out and retake the prize inshore.
Fitful gusts of wind swept the captured vessel along, but during every
pause the steady rowing of the British sailors brought the armed boats
nearer. Suddenly they stopped all exertion, for Nicholson was shouting
orders through his speaking-trumpet as if in command of one hundred
men, instead of scarcely enough to haul his sheets and tacks. The ports
dropped with a clatter and the boatswain’s whistle rang out shrilly.
The Englishmen were astounded; fearing that they had been drawn into a
trap, turning tail, they scuttled out of range as quickly as possible
and returned to the frigate. A breeze sprang up at this moment, and
Nicholson was able to keep the _Epervier_ on her course, and on the
1st of May the brig arrived safely in Savannah. Three days later the
_Peacock_ came in also.
Warrington’s delight on seeing that his prize was safe was great, and
he reported the _Epervier_ in the following words: “She is one of their
finest sloops of war, and is well calculated for our service. She sails
extremely fast, and will require but little to send her to sea, as her
armament and stores are complete.”
In his letter to the Secretary of the Navy, when at sea, on the
night of the action, he speaks of his crew in this manly fashion:
“Every officer, seaman, and marine did his duty, which is the highest
compliment I can pay them.”
The _Peacock_ did not remain long inactive, but sailed for the Bay of
Biscay and cruised along the coast of Portugal and among the islands.
Time and again she was chased by English vessels, and was kept dodging
from one position to another to avoid the many squadrons. It was not
her luck to come across another vessel of war of anything like her
size, but she captured handily fourteen sail of merchantmen.
The “commerce-destroyers” of those days were not spoken of in that
term, but the trade of Great Britain was crippled severely by the
swift-sailing privateers and our handy little sloops of war.
XIV
THE CRUISE OF THE “WASP”
[1814]
[Illustration: MEDAL PRESENTED BY CONGRESS TO CAPTAIN JOHNSTON BLAKELEY]
In a very amusing cartoon, printed in the latter part of the year
1814 in an American paper, our cousin Johnnie Bull was represented
flourishing a cutlass above his head and vainly endeavoring to defend
himself from the attack of a nondescript-looking animal that had
succeeded in running him through the body with its sting.
As was the custom in drawing cartoons at that time, the legend issued
from the lips in a cloud, and Johnnie Bull appeared to be smoking out
the words, “Save me, oh, save me from this vicious insect!”
The insect was supposed to be the United States sloop of war _Wasp_, of
18 guns, then on a most remarkable cruise in European waters. Under the
command of Captain Johnston Blakeley her career had been smiled upon by
good fortune.
In a cruise of under four months she had captured thirteen British
merchantmen, and had engaged and caused to surrender two of the finest
brigs in the service of Great Britain.
The value of her prizes was reckoned at not less than two hundred
thousand pounds sterling.
On the 1st of May, 1814, the little sloop had set sail from
Portsmouth, New Hampshire. She was manned by a crew of one hundred and
seventy-three men, the majority of them being green hands, and many of
them mere boys, for they averaged but twenty-three years in age.
Meeting with some severe weather when only a few days out, it is on
record that one-third of her crew were sea-sick for a week. This fact,
however, did not prevent them from becoming great fighters afterwards.
On the 28th of June, in latitude 48° 36´, longitude 11° 15´, she fell
in with the _Reindeer_, sloop of war in His Majesty’s service, mounting
19 guns--sixteen 24-pound carronades, two long 9-pounders, and a
shifting 12-pounder. She had on board a complement of one hundred and
eighteen men.
In an action that lasted but nineteen minutes from the first broadside,
the _Reindeer_ was destroyed, her ports having been blown into one
gaping streak of splintered wood. Not a boat was left, and her foremast
fell the day after the action.
As it was found impossible to take her into port, the prisoners were
removed from the _Reindeer_ and she was set on fire. That she had
been gallantly defended is evident from the reports of the action.
William Manners, her commander, a brave, fearless man, was killed, and
twenty-three officers and seamen with him. The first lieutenant and the
master were severely wounded, and forty seamen were on the list also.
The _Wasp_ lost five killed and twenty-one wounded. She was but
slightly hurt, and within a few hours of the action could have
commenced another.
Wishing to get rid of his prisoners as soon as possible, Captain
Blakeley overhauled a Portuguese brig, placed them on board of her, and
sent them to England.
No doubt the _Wasp_ was one of the finest sailing craft of her day. Her
lines are spoken of as being remarkably fine; and one of her officers
writes, in a private letter, as follows: