of captain, and at this time Captain James Lawrence, in consequence of
his own promotion, had just left the sloop of war _Hornet_, which,
under him, had fought so bravely and so fortunately in the southern
seas. Captain Biddle asked for the command of the _Hornet_ immediately
upon Lawrence’s leaving her--she was then lying in New York Harbor. His
request was granted, and orders were given him to join his vessel with
the frigate _Chesapeake_, then at Boston nearly ready for a cruise. But
he and the brave Lawrence were never to make a voyage in company. News
travelled slowly in those days, and young Captain Biddle went on with
his preparations, sailing at last without hearing of the sad fate of
his superior.
By the capture of the _Chesapeake_, however, all the signals and orders
had fallen into the hands of the enemy. Immediately a frigate and
several smaller vessels were sent out by the British to intercept the
_Hornet_.
Captain Biddle had weighed anchor not alone, however, but in company
with the frigates _United States_ and _Macedonian_, going from New York
through the Sound, as there was then a large British blockading force
off Sandy Hook. The little American squadron was under the command of
Commodore Decatur.
On the first day of June, within sight of Montauk Point, the three
Yankee vessels were met by a larger and heavier force of the enemy.
Decatur put back into the Sound and entered New London Harbor, closely
pursued by the British, a ship of the line leading. In this chase the
_Hornet_, being deep laden and consequently slow, was nearly overtaken,
being fired at by the two headmost ships at quite near range. The
American vessels, going through Fisher’s Island Sound, proceeded up the
river Thames, and were moored across it, stem to stern, in order the
better to defend themselves.
A long and tedious blockade now began, and Biddle’s anxious spirit
and courageous disposition fretted under the confinement. It was his
first command; he was extremely anxious to measure his strength with an
enemy whose force was equal to his own, and he tried again and again
to obtain permission to make an attempt to elude the British squadron
at the mouth of the river; but in this he failed, Decatur, his senior,
forbidding him to risk the venture. For six long months no move was
made by either side, although alarms were frequent.
Early in January, 1814, the blockading forces at New London were the
_Ramillies_ (74), Commodore Sir Thomas Hardy; the _Endymion_, Captain
Hope; and the _Statira_, frigate, Captain Stackpole. There were also
one or two smaller armed vessels within call. Upon one occasion an
American prisoner of war, who was about to be landed at New London in
exchange, was present during a conversation among the English officers,
who, tired of acting as jailers, were anxious for a conflict. Upon
landing he reported what he had heard to the Americans, and Captain
Biddle, under a flag of truce, obtained an interview with Sir Thomas
Hardy on board the _Ramillies_. He did his best to secure a meeting
between the two frigates _United States_ and the _Macedonian_ on one
side, and the _Endymion_ and the _Statira_ on the other.
Sir Thomas, after thinking the matter over, declined the meeting
between the _Endymion_ and the _United States_ on account of the
difference in force; the captain of the _Statira_ did not wish to try
it alone, and so the meeting fell through. And what a strange comment
upon the pomp and circumstance of war! Biddle was so anxious himself to
fight, and so trusted in the honor of the enemy, that, hearing that a
British corvette was shortly to join the station, he would have sailed
out through the hostile fleet in the _Hornet_ to meet her all alone. It
was the _Loup-Cervier_ that was soon expected to arrive; this vessel
had once been the tidy American sloop of war the _Wasp_, and Biddle had
been second in command of her. Now, however, she was under a Captain
Mends, and flew, instead of the “sailors’ rights,” the cross of St.
George. However, after some correspondence, the meeting was given up,
much to Biddle’s chagrin, and the rechristened _Loup-Cervier_ sailed
out to sea after delivering despatches.
All through the winter a close blockade of New London was kept up, and
it was found impossible to make any escape. At last the government
ordered the two American frigates to be moved up the Thames as far
as possible, and there they were dismantled. The officers and crew
were transferred to other cities, while Captain Biddle was ordered to
continue at New London for the protection of the shipping. In vain he
protested against this hopeless and mortifying situation. The enemy
made no serious preparations for trying to take the force up the
river, and at last Biddle succeeded in obtaining permission to try to
sail through the British fleet. Leaving the _United States_ and the
_Macedonian_ protected by land batteries, he placed the _Hornet_ in the
best of trim, and on the night of the 18th of November, undiscovered,
he drifted past the guard-ships and arrived safely at New York. It was
seventeen months since he had been free.
Biddle was immediately attached, with his ship, to the command of
Commodore Decatur again, and was ordered for a cruise to the East
Indies. The frigate _President_, the flagship of the little squadron,
went to sea on the 14th of January, 1815, and from the outset was
pursued by the worst of misfortunes, that included shipwreck and
final capture. On the 23d of January--not knowing of the loss of the
_President_--the _Peacock_, the _Hornet_, and a store-vessel went
out to sea in a gale of wind. Three days afterwards they separated,
and, hearing of the _President’s_ fate from a merchantman, set out
for themselves. Late in March, Biddle anchored near the headlands of
Tristan d’Acunha, and on the 23d of the month, off the island, a sail
was discovered to the southward and eastward. The _Hornet_, ever on
the alert, raised anchor and bore up before the wind. When within five
miles Biddle shortened sail and waited for the stranger to come down
to him. It is quite amusing to think that the idea that was uppermost
in the mind of the British commander (for it was H. M. S. _Penguin_, a
heavily armed brig, that the _Hornet_ had sighted) was this: that if
the American saw who it was and how formidable was his ship, he would
escape. So the Englishman concealed his identity as much as possible
by clumsily taking in his sail to encourage Biddle to wait for him,
carefully keeping bow on to the _Hornet_ to hide his strength. Biddle,
not understanding his intention, and the idea of running away being the
last thing in the world for him to think about, was puzzled. He wore
ship three times, trying to get the other to haul by the wind and to
show his broadside, but without success. As the enemy approached nearly
within musket-shot, the Englishman at last hauled on the starboard tack
and hoisted his colors, firing a challenging gun. Biddle immediately
luffed, flew his ensign, and gave the enemy a broadside. It was then
about forty minutes past one. The action became brisk, and in fifteen
minutes the Englishman came down again, bow foremost, as if he would
fall on board the _Hornet_. Orders were given to prepare to repel
the expected boarders, but the men could scarcely be restrained from
tumbling over the bow of the _Penguin_ as her jib-boom crossed the
_Hornet’s_ taffrail.
There was a considerable swell, the sea lifted the _Hornet_ ahead,
and the bowsprit of the enemy (her men had displayed no intention of
boarding) carried away the mizzen-shrouds and swept the side. Just then
an officer bravely stood upon the bulwarks of the English brig, and
at the risk of his life shouted out that he had surrendered. He was
Lieutenant McDonald, the _Penguin’s_ first lieutenant. At this moment
the enemy was swinging clear, Biddle was prepared to give him another
broadside, and with difficulty could he restrain his crew, as the
_Penguin_ certainly had fired after Lieutenant McDonald had said he had
surrendered. One of the last shots had struck Captain Biddle, wounding
him severely in the neck. In fact, throughout the action he was almost
unrecognizable, because of wounds which he had received from splinters
in his face. Several times his men had asked him to go below.
It was exactly twenty-two minutes from the beginning of the action to
the time when the _Penguin_ was boarded by a boat from the _Hornet_.
The former vessel proved to be one of the strongest vessels of her
class, mounting 16 32-pound carronades, 2 long sixes, and a 12-pound
carronade on her topgallant forecastle, with swivels on the capstan
and in the tops; she had a spare port forward so as to fire both of
her long guns on a side. When she had sailed from England on the 1st
of September she was manned by a picked crew, that was afterwards
reinforced by marines taken from the _Medway_, a seventy-four. Out
of one hundred and thirty-two persons that formed her crew she lost
fourteen killed and twenty-eight wounded, among the latter number
being her commander, Captain Dickinson. Not a single round shot struck
the hull of the _Hornet_, but her sides were filled with grape and
her sails and rigging much cut. She had but one man killed and eleven
wounded. The _Penguin_ was so badly riddled that she sank, it not
being worth the while to attempt to save her. But the _Hornet_, after
obtaining a new set of sails, was ready for service without going
home for repairs or refitting. The English journals, in commenting on
this fact, advocated strongly the adoption of the American system of
gunnery instruction, to which a Baltimore paper replied that the only
thing they (the British) needed to be taught was “to _shoot_ Yankee
fashion--viz., straighter and more often.”
[Illustration: THE “PENGUIN” STRIKES TO THE “HORNET”]
XIX
THE ESCAPE OF THE “HORNET”
[April 29th, 1815]
Although the treaty of peace between England and the United States was
concluded at Ghent on November 24th, in the year 1814, hostilities
continued even after the _signing_ of the document that took place a
month later to a day.
This can be well understood when we stop to think that at the best
rates of travelling it would take in the neighborhood of three weeks,
or possibly four, for the news to reach the United States.
The battle of New Orleans, so disastrous to the English arms, would
never have taken place if there had been such a thing as a cable in
those days. Nor would there have occurred several smart actions at sea,
including, sad to relate, the capture of the U. S. S. _President_ by a
British squadron.
There is no excuse, however, for the long detention of American
prisoners in the hands of the British, when there was no longer any
chance of their serving against her.
On February 17th President Madison ratified the Treaty of Ghent, and
hostilities practically ceased, although, of course, not knowing this
fact, Captain Stewart, in command of the _Constitution_, captured the
_Cyane_ and the _Levant_, two British sloops of war. And on the 23d of
March, on a foreign station, the gallant Captain Biddle, in command of
the _Hornet_, captured and sank the _Penguin_.
But even so long past the time when the news might have been expected
to be about the world, on April 27th, 1815, off the Island of San
Salvador, the sloop of war _Hornet_ had the last hostile experience
with the English of that eventful period. The little sloop was
sailing in company with the _Peacock_, and together they made a pair
of fighters that were not afraid of anything that carried in the
neighborhood of their weight of metal.
In a letter from Biddle, the senior captain, to Stephen Decatur appears
the following: “The _Peacock_ and this ship, having continued off
Tristan d’Acunha the number of days directed by you in your letter
of instruction, proceeded in company to the eastward on the twelfth
day of April, bound to the second place of rendezvous. Nothing of any
importance occurred until the twenty-second day of April at 7 A.M., in
latitude 38° 30´ and longitude 33´ east. The wind was from northeast
by north and light through the day, and by sundown we had neared the
chase considerably. It was calm during the day, and at daylight on
the 28th he [Warrington of the _Peacock_] was not in sight. A breeze
springing from the northwest, we crowded steering sails on both sides,
and the chase was made out standing to the northward upon a wind. At
2.45 P.M. the _Peacock_ was about six miles ahead of this ship, and,
observing that she appeared to be suspicious of the chase, I took in
starboard steering-sails and hauled up for the _Peacock_. I was still,
however, of opinion that the chase was an Indiaman, though, indeed,
the atmosphere was quite smoky and indistinct, and I concluded she was
very large. Captain Warrington was waiting for me to join him, that we
might get together alongside of her. At 3.22 P.M. the _Peacock_ made
the signal that the chase was a ship of the line and an enemy. I took
in immediately all steering-sails and hauled upon the wind, the enemy
being then upon our lee quarter, distant about eight miles. By sundown
I had perceived that the enemy sailed remarkably fast and was very
weatherly.”
This letter was dated from San Salvador, June 10th, 1815.
It had been very calm on the morning of the 28th when the great ship
had been sighted which, as Biddle has recorded, every one took to be
a large East-Indiaman. As the _Peacock_ was in advance and to the
windward of the stranger, it was feared by the crew of the _Hornet_
that she would be first to place herself alongside and secure the rich
prize. According to the private journal of one of the officers on the
_Hornet_, they had already begun in their imagination to divide the
contents of the vessel they expected to capture among them. If she
came from the Indies, the sailors declared that they would carpet the
berth-deck with costly rugs; while if she hailed from England and was
on an outward voyage, the officers revelled in the idea of what her
larder might contain; the probable value of her cargo was estimated
carefully.
The _Hornet_ was crowding on all sail in order to draw up before the
_Peacock_ should have had the best of the picking. Captain Biddle was
on deck with his glass in hand watching the _Peacock_, when suddenly
he saw her swing about (she was well to windward), and fly a signal
telling that the big vessel was a ship of the line. The _Peacock_ was a
faster sailer than the _Hornet_, as the latter sat deep in the water,
and, owing to the weight of metal she carried, was slow in stays.
But it was evident, by six o’clock in the evening, three hours after
Warrington had signalled Biddle to beware of approaching nearer, that
the big fellow had turned the tables and was evidently the pursuer,
with the intention of running down the _Hornet_. Every minute the sails
rose higher and higher above the horizon until the great hull was in
plain view. She weathered the little _Hornet_, and it was seen that
at the rate of progress the two were making the seventy-four would be
within gunshot sometime during the night.
Immediately the wedges of the lower masts were loosened, and at nine
o’clock orders were given to lighten ship as much as possible. The
sheet-anchor was cut away and hove overboard, and all of the cable
followed it. Then the spare rigging and spars were put over the side,
and before ten o’clock they scuttled the wardroom-deck and hove
overboard about fifty tons of the kentledge.
It was a bright night, with all the stars shining, and there was no
use disguising the matter: the _Hornet_ was continually dropping
back. The seventy-four fired a gun and signalled, but Biddle did not
respond. Like Hull, who brought the _Constitution_ successfully away
from a superior force, by pluck and attention to duty, knowledge and
seamanship, he determined to leave nothing untried that would tend to
increase the rate of his vessel’s sailing.
At two in the morning the _Hornet_ tacked to the southward and
westward, and immediately the enemy astern did likewise. At daylight
the line-of-battle ship was within gunshot on the _Hornet’s_ lee
quarter. At seven in the morning the English colors were displayed at
the peak of the Britisher, and a rear-admiral’s flag was flown at his
mizzen-topgallant mast-head. At the same time he began firing from
his bow guns--it must be assumed more as an imperious order for the
_Hornet_ to show her colors and heave to than with an idea of crippling
her, for the shot overreached her about a mile.
Biddle paid no attention at all, but having ascertained that the
lightening of his ship made her much faster, he went at it again,
cutting away the remaining anchors, and letting every foot of cable go
overboard. Then he broke up the launch and left the débris in the wake.
Even the provisions were broken into, and barrels of salt-horse and
bread thrown out upon the waters. Then more kentledge followed, and,
tapping the magazines, he threw over all but a dozen or so of round
shot. Then over went the capstan, which was no easy job, and they began
on the guns; one after another they plashed overboard. All this time
the _Cornwallis_, the great seventy-four, kept up a continual firing,
to which no reply was made. In fact, for four hours the English gunners
displayed the worst marksmanship on record, for their shot continually
went ahead of and all around the _Hornet_ without once striking her,
although several passed between her masts.
At eleven the breeze began to freshen, and the seventy-four commenced
to creep up slowly, and then gain all at once in a manner which caused
Biddle to believe that the Englishman had made alterations in his
trim. By noon the wind had shifted slightly, and was squally, with
fresh breezes from the westward. It was Sunday, the 30th, but there
was no service held. Gloom was everywhere throughout the American
vessel: staring them in the face were apparently inevitable capture and
the frightful confinement in an English prison. Many of the crew had
already been impressed and had served in the English navy, escaping
from time to time, and the idea of being held as deserters--deserters
to a country that was not theirs--gave cause for much unhappiness. At
1 P.M. the _Cornwallis_ was so close that her commander began to fire
by divisions, and once let go his entire broadside loaded with round
and grape. But, as is recorded in the journal, “the former passed
between our masts and the latter fell all around us. The enemy fired
shells, but they were so ill directed as to be perfectly harmless.”
And now began what looked to be a work of destruction, and which was
intended as such, no doubt. Biddle determined that if he were taken
there would be very little for the enemy to show as trophy. Overboard
went all the muskets, cutlasses, and ironwork. The bell was broken up,
and the topgallant forecastle was chopped to pieces. All this time only
three-quarters of a mile on the lee quarter was the great ship of the
line pouring in a constant storm of shot and shell. The Yankee tars
trimmed ship by massing themselves against the rail, after the fashion
of a yacht’s crew.
At four o’clock a shot from the enemy struck the jib-boom, and another
caught the starboard bulwark just forward of the gangway. A third
smashed on the deck forward of the main-hatch, and, glancing up, passed
through the foresail. It struck immediately over the head of a wounded
Yankee sailor who had been hurt in the action with the _Penguin_; the
splinters were scattered all around the invalid, and a small paper
flag, the American ensign, that he had hoisted over his cot, was struck
down. But immediately he lifted it up and waved it about his head. In
fact, to quote again from the entry in the journal, “Destruction stared
us in the face if we did not surrender, yet no officer, no man in the
ship, showed any disposition to let the enemy have the poor little
_Hornet_.”
Captain Biddle mustered the crew, and told them that, as they might
soon be captured, he hoped to perceive that propriety of conduct
that had distinguished them, and that he was pleased at being their
commander. But now, as if by a miracle, the _Hornet_ began to gain. The
wind blew more aft, and by five the enemy’s shot fell short. Biddle had
not replied even with his stern-chaser to all this cannonading, for he
had noticed that the other’s firing hampered her sailing. At half-past
five the crew broke out into a cheer, for the _Cornwallis_ was dropping
behind, slowly, but surely. Now Biddle showed his colors, and so fast
did the _Hornet_ pick up, with the wind in her favorite quarter for
good going, that a few minutes after six the enemy was hull down. All
night long the distance between the two increased, and at daylight the
_Cornwallis_ was fifteen miles behind. At nine o’clock she shortened
sail, hauled upon the wind to the eastward, and gave up, after a chase
of forty-two hours.
A remarkable circumstance of this affair is that, owing to the
variableness of the wind, the _Hornet_ had made a perfect circle around
the battle-ship.
The relief occasioned to all by the escape was vented in cheering, and,
extra grog being passed, the men were in extremely good temper, despite
the fact of their precarious condition, for they were on the high seas
with no guns, no boats, no anchors, and short of provisions. They had
packed up all their things, thinking that they would soon have to go on
board the enemy as prisoners, but now, joyfully, they returned them to
their places.
In the fine writing of the period that every person who touched pen and
ink seemed prone to, the author of the journal says: “This was truly a
glorious victory over the horrors of banishment and the terrors of a
British floating dungeon. Quick as thought, every face was changed from
the gloom of despair to the highest smile of delight, and we began once
more to breathe the sweets of liberty. The bitter sighs of regret were
now changed.”
Biddle asked and obtained a court of inquiry to investigate the matter
of his throwing overboard almost everything but the skin of his vessel,
and on the 23d of August, 1815, by order of the Secretary of the Navy,
court was convened on board the _Hornet_, and the following opinion
was pronounced: “The court, after mature deliberation on the testimony
adduced, are of opinion that no blame is imputable to Captain Biddle on
account of the return of the _Hornet_ into port with the loss of her
armament, stores, etc., and that the greatest applause is due to him
for his persevering gallantry and nautical skill, evinced in escaping,
under the most disadvantageous circumstance, after a long and arduous
chase by a British line-of-battle ship.”
The _Cornwallis_ fired the last gunshot of the war of 1812.
Transcriber Notes
Obvious punctuation and spelling errors repaired.
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
In ambiguous cases, the text has been left as it appears in the
original book. In particular, many mismatched quotation marks, endquote
missing puctuation, wrongspaced quotes, ect., have not been changed.
Inconsistent hyphenation has been repaired.
quasiwar changed to quasi-war.
Seacoast changed to sea-coast.
mid-shipman’s changed to midshipman’s.
mid-day changed to midday.
bow-chaser changed to bowchaser.
mizzenmast changed to mizzen-mast.
End of Project Gutenberg's Naval Actions of the War of 1812, by James Barnes