THE CRUISE OF THE "ESSEX."
Of the vessels in commission at the opening of the war, a fine frigate
of the third class was the "Essex," very fast, but poorly armed with
carronades. She had been for some months under the command of Captain
Porter, of whom we have heard in the war with France, and whose life had
already been so full of active service, that though only two-and-thirty
years of age, we think of him as a much older man.
The "Essex" had first got to sea for a war-cruise on the 3d of August,
and soon after, on a hazy night, she came up with a fleet of the enemy's
transports sailing under the convoy of a frigate. Stealing up silently
alongside the rearmost transport, Porter ordered her to draw out of the
convoy on pain of being fired into. This order the transport hastened to
obey; and the convoying ship, fearing that by delay she might lose all
her convoy, went on her way without molesting the captor. The transport
had one hundred and fifty troops on board; and Porter, putting all the
prisoners on their parole, ransomed the prize and left her to make her
own way into port.
A few days later the "Essex," being then disguised as a merchantman,
with her ports closed and her upper masts housed, made a strange sail,
which proved to be the enemy's sloop-of-war "Alert." The English sloop
ran down for her, deceived by the disguise. The "Alert" was not a good
ship for her size, and her size was only half that of her antagonist;
but when she found out what the "Essex" was, she made no effort to
escape. No doubt the English, who were accustomed, in fighting Frenchmen
and Spaniards, to engage a ship of almost any force, thought that the
Americans would be so frightened by an Englishman's attack that they
would strike immediately; for this was before the "Guerrière" had
surrendered to the "Constitution." But they received a needed lesson
from this engagement, for in ten minutes after the firing had begun they
found their ship in a sinking condition, with seven feet of water in her
hold; and after a resistance so feeble that the encounter could hardly
be called a battle, they yielded her a prize. She was the first vessel
of the enemy's navy that was captured in the war.
The "Essex" now ran in to the Delaware, where she remained some time,
making preparations for a more extended cruise. This cruise was a
cherished plan of the captain's own devising, and the scene of it was to
be a hitherto untried field,--the Pacific Ocean. At that day the
Pacific, with its vast stretches of sea-coast, and the innumerable
islands studding its broad surface, was almost unknown, except to the
English and American whalers. The United States had no settled territory
bordering on the great ocean, and our ships-of-war had hardly been seen
at all upon its waters. The "Essex," on her first cruise in 1798, under
Captain Preble, had gone as far as Batavia, by way of the Cape of Good
Hope; and she was now to be the first vessel of the navy to go around
Cape Horn.
What, then, was Captain Porter's object in sailing into this remote and
almost unknown sea? It was this: he knew that the enemy would never
expect to find our cruisers there, and therefore would have sent none of
their own. If, then, he could evade the frigates that were patrolling up
and down the Atlantic from Halifax to Bermuda, and from Bermuda to
Jamaica, and all through the Windward Islands, and on the South American
coast as far as Rio de Janeiro, and if he could once double the Cape and
find his way into the Pacific, he would have before him a field of
operations where he might be almost free from interruption. He would
find there numbers of American whaling-ships, which generally went
unarmed, and which he could protect and succor if they found themselves
in any danger; and he would find also numbers of British whalers which
were fitted out as privateers, carrying from five or six to twenty guns,
to whom the Americans that they might meet would fall an easy prey. To
assist the first and to capture and destroy the second was now Porter's
object. Sooner or later, he thought the enemy's Government would no
doubt hear of his depredations, and send out ships-of-war to capture
him. But in those days of slow communication between distant places it
would take a long time to accomplish this, and meanwhile the bold
American would be able to carry everything before him; and even when the
enemy arrived in force, he was prepared to take his chances either in
flight or in battle as circumstances might require.
The original plan, as I have said already, was for the "Essex" to go to
the Pacific with two other vessels,--the "Constitution" under Commodore
Bainbridge, and the "Hornet" under Captain Lawrence. She was to start
alone from the Delaware when the others sailed from Boston, and the
three ships were to rendezvous near the coast of Brazil. The "Essex"
went first to the Cape de Verde Islands. Proceeding thence to the
westward on his way to the appointed place of meeting, Captain Porter
fell in with an enemy's brig-of-war, the "Nocton." The "Nocton" was a
small ship for the "Essex" to fight, and Porter would not order the guns
to be fired at her, supposing that she would surrender. But she began to
manoeuvre to get into a raking position, thinking that perhaps she might
fire one broadside and then escape in the confusion. So Porter concluded
to make short work of her, and coming close alongside he poured a volley
of musketry upon her decks. This was enough, and the "Nocton"
immediately struck. She was a stanch vessel, and therefore Porter sent
her to the United States in charge of one of his lieutenants. It was a
fortunate capture, for the brig had on board more than fifty thousand
dollars in gold and silver; and as the "Essex" was to be gone on a long
cruise, with no prospect of receiving money from the United States, the
captain needed all that he could get.
[Illustration: "WHEN THE 'ESSEX' ARRIVED OFF THE ISLAND SHE LAY TO."]
The "Essex" now continued on her way to the island of Fernando Noronha,
near the Brazilian coast, where Porter expected to meet Commodore
Bainbridge, or at least to hear something of his movements. It had been
arranged that both the ships should be disguised as Englishmen, in order
that the enemy's squadron might not discover their presence in those
seas. So when the "Essex" arrived off the island she lay to outside, and
Lieutenant Downes went in a boat to the town and told the governor that
she was the ship "Fanny" of London. Captain Johnson, bound for Rio. On
his return Downes reported that the governor had told him that two
British ships-of-war, the "Acasta" of forty-four guns, and the
"Morgiana" of twenty, had departed from the island only the week before,
and that Captain Kerr of the "Acasta" had left a letter for Capt. Sir
James Yeo of the "Southampton," which was to be sent to England by the
first conveyance. As soon as Captain Porter got this message, he knew
that the pretended English ships were not the "Acasta" and "Morgiana" at
all, but the "Constitution" and the "Hornet," and that the letter from
Captain Kerr to Sir James Yeo was really from Commodore Bainbridge to
himself. He therefore sent word to the governor that the "captain of the
'Fanny'" knew Sir James Yeo, and would willingly take him the letter if
the governor would send it to him; which the governor immediately
proceeded to do. Here is the letter:--
MY DEAR MEDITERRANEAN FRIEND,--Probably you may stop here.
Don't attempt to water; it is attended with too many
difficulties. I learned before I left _England_ that you were
bound to Brazil coast. If so, perhaps we shall meet at San
Salvador or at Rio Janeiro. I should be happy to meet and
converse on our old affairs of captivity. Recollect our secret
in these times.
Your friend of H.M. Ship "Acasta,"
KERR.
SIR JAMES YEO, of H.B.M. Ship "Southampton."
This was apparently all the letter, and it would not have given Sir
James much information about the Americans if he had received it, though
its mysterious phrases would have puzzled him not a little. But on
holding the letter before the fire these words could be read between the
lines:--
"I am bound off San Salvador, thence off Cape Frio, where I
intend to cruise until the 1st of January. Go off Cape Frio, to
the northward of Rio, and keep a lookout for me."
As soon as he read this, Captain Porter made sail at once for Cape Frio.
He remained cruising about here for two or three weeks, waiting for the
"Constitution," and occasionally going in chase of a strange sail. Once
he succeeded in making a capture of an English schooner, which he sent
in as a prize in charge of one of his midshipmen. He could get no
information that was to be relied on, but was all the while disturbed by
vague rumors of something going on among the English and American ships
in the neighborhood. At last, upon putting in at St. Catherine's, he
heard that an American sloop-of-war had been brought into Rio by the
"Montagu" ship-of-the-line, and that an American frigate had sunk an
English frigate. He concluded then that the captured sloop must be the
"Hornet," and the victorious frigate the "Constitution," and that there
was not much reason for his delaying longer in those parts. As it turned
out, the rumor about the frigate was true, for, as we have already seen,
the "Constitution" had captured and sunk the "Java;" but the other story
was false, for instead of being captured, the "Hornet" had gone off to
the coast of Guiana, where she succeeded in sinking the "Peacock," after
which she had followed the "Constitution" home. "At any rate," thought
Porter, "the cruise in the Pacific can be made just as well without the
help of the other ships, and they do not seem to be anywhere hereabout,
so I may as well go on without them."
This determined, the "Essex" laid in a stock of fresh provisions, and
made her final preparations for the passage around the Cape. The
captain expected to be gone for a long time, and in fact it was nearly
two years before he finally returned. During the whole period, he was to
be cruising in those distant seas, with no word of direction or
encouragement from home, and with the whole care and responsibility of
his ship's company resting upon him alone. But he was a man of such iron
nerve and self-reliance and strength of purpose, that there was little
danger that his spirits and his energy would ever flag. It was to him
that all on board the ship were to look for support and guidance, and as
they soon found out, they could have had no better man for their
commander. For Captain Porter was a bold and hardy seaman, who knew his
business well, and who feared neither the elements nor the enemy; and
though he believed in strict obedience, and insisted upon having it, he
believed too in lightening as far as in him lay the burdens of his men.
He despised the cat-o'-nine-tails, which in those rough times was always
used to flog the sailors on board our ships-of-war, and never would
inflict this punishment when he could bring about his object by other
means. Two hours in every afternoon, from four o'clock till six, when
there was no serious work on hand, he allowed the blue-jackets to
skylark as they liked, and at these times they could throw off the
restraints of discipline and frolic to their hearts' content. The
captain was always careful too about the men's health, and their
sleeping-places, and all the little matters about their daily life which
added to their comfort and their strength. So that the men in turn
forgot their hardships, and were his devoted followers in storm and
battle, only waiting for his word to do their duty in any way that it
might please him to ask it of them.
After a stormy passage round Cape Horn the "Essex," about the middle of
March, 1813, appeared off the port of Valparaiso. At this time our
relations with Spain were not over-friendly, and Captain Porter did not
expect a very cordial reception. He learned, however, that Chili had
shaken off the Spanish authority not long before, and being a young and
small American republic, she was only too glad to welcome a ship from
the oldest and most powerful of the free States of the Western
Continent. Instead of indifferent or nearly hostile Spaniards, the
"Essex" found in the Chilian inhabitants only devoted friends. The ship
fired a salute in honor of the town, and the captain visited the Chilian
governor, and received his visit in return. All was hospitality and
cordial good-feeling, and stores and provisions were supplied in
abundance.
The Government of Chili could thus be relied on as at least a neutral in
the war. It was far otherwise with Peru, which was still a Spanish
province. On the day before Captain Porter left Valparaiso, an American
whaler had come in with the report that several English whaling
privateers were off the Peruvian coast, and that the news of the
declaration of war had just reached them. The "Essex," though she had
only been in port a week, lost no time in putting out to sea, to reach
the enemy's cruising-ground. Soon Porter fell in with another American,
the "Charles," whose captain told him that the Englishmen were not the
only enemies to be found there, for a Spanish privateer out of Callao,
the principal port of Peru, had recently chased the "Charles" and had
captured two of her companions, the "Walker" and the "Barclay." Here was
a fine state of affairs! It was well that the "Essex" was on the spot,
and she had arrived only just in time, for it was evident that between
open enemies and piratical neutrals the unarmed Americans would have
little hope of safety.
The "Essex," keeping the "Charles" in company,--for the whaler was only
too glad to stay under the wing of her new and powerful protector,--now
crowded all sail for the Peruvian coast. After a few hours she sighted a
vessel in the distance which had the appearance of a ship-of-war
disguised as a whaler, and which hoisted the Spanish flag. The American
frigate, as a ruse, showed English colors, and fired a gun to leeward,
which is the signal all the world over that a ship comes on a peaceful
errand. At the same time the "Charles" sent up a union-Jack over her
American flag, which meant that she was an American whom the pretended
Englishman had made a prize. The stratagems were successful, and the
stranger, which was a Peruvian privateer, the "Nereyda," was completely
deceived, thinking that the "Essex" was one of the English whalers, and
she fired a shot across the latter's bow. This was an insult; but
Captain Porter wisely thought he could put up with it, as it was an
insult to the English colors. In a short time a boat came from the
"Nereyda" bringing her lieutenant, who, little thinking to whom he was
talking, told the captain that he was cruising after American vessels,
and had captured the "Walker" and "Barclay," whose crews were then
prisoners on board the "Nereyda;" but that the "Nimrod," an English
privateer, had taken possession of the ships.
"You know," he added, "that the Spaniards are faithful allies of the
British, and that we always respect your flag; and we are now
endeavoring to clear the seas of these Americans."
When the lieutenant had finished his communication, and told Captain
Porter all there was to tell, great was his surprise at seeing the
British ensign lowered, and the stars and stripes going up to the peak
of the "Essex." He was still more astonished when she fired two shots
point blank at the "Nereyda," and the latter immediately hauled down her
flag. He realized, too late, that he had been entrapped, and that he had
revealed his perfidious acts to the very man from whom he most desired
to conceal them.
As there was no war with Spain, the "Nereyda" could not well be made a
prize, for the captain knew that two wrongs do not make a right, and
that, treacherous as had been her conduct, he could not stoop to
retaliate. He released the twenty-three Americans that were confined in
her hold, threw overboard her guns and light sails, and sent her back to
the Viceroy of Peru, with a letter that was courteous and dignified, but
whose language could not be misunderstood. His spirited action had the
desired effect, and taught the Spaniards such a good lesson that the
American whalers were never afterward molested by Peruvian corsairs.
The "Charles" now sailed to Coquimbo, and soon after the "Barclay" was
recaptured. The "Walker," however, and her captor the "Nimrod," which
Porter most desired to find, had by this time disappeared. Taking the
"Barclay" along, the "Essex" made for the Galapagos,--a group of
uninhabited islands much used by the whaling-ships as a refuge and
rendezvous. Good anchorage was to be found here, and whales abounded in
the neighborhood; but the principal product of the islands was the
land-turtle. There were great numbers of these of large size, some of
them as much as five feet across, and they would live for months in the
ship's hold without food or water. They made delicious food, and the
sailors found them an agreeable change from salt pork and hard-tack; so
that every ship calling at the islands took great quantities of them on
board.
[Illustration: APPROACHING THE GALAPAGOS ISLANDS.]
Some years before, an Irishman named Patrick Watkins had deserted from a
whale-ship, and had settled on one of the islands at a place which came
to be known as Pat's Landing. Here he had built himself a little cabin
and planted a potato-patch, and he would sell potatoes and pumpkins to
the whaling-crews for rum, to the use of which he was much addicted. He
led a wretched life, becoming like a savage in appearance, his hair and
beard matted, and his clothes in rags. He spent his time in wandering
about the island, doing enough work to keep his garden-patch in order,
but as soon as he had laid in a supply of liquor, keeping himself drunk
until it was exhausted. He was a half-crazy creature, and once he
frightened a negro boat-keeper into leaving the boat and going off with
him as his slave. For this he was severely punished by the captain to
whom the boat belonged, and ever after he sought to wreak vengeance upon
the whalers. At last by some means or other he got a boat and sailed
away to the mainland, where he was locked up by the authorities.
All this happened shortly before the arrival of the "Essex," so that the
islands were now deserted. But on one of them was found a rough sort of
post-office, made of a box nailed to a tree, in which the whalers
touching at the island left letters containing news of their movements.
From these it was learned that six whalers had put in here some time
before with two thousand and five hundred barrels of oil. One of the
letters was from the master of the American ship "Sukey," and read as
follows:--
Ship Sukey. John Macy. 7-1/2 Months out, 150 barrels, 75 days
from Lima. No oil Since Leaving that Port. Spaniards Very
Savage Lost on the Braziel Bank John Sealin Apprentice to Capt.
Benjamin Worth fell from the fore topsaill Yard In A Gale of
wind Left Diana Capt. paddock 14 day since, 250 Barrels I Leave
this port this Day with 250 Turpen 8 Boat Load Wood Yesterday
Went Up to Patts Landing East Side to the Starboard hand of the
Landing 1-1/2 miles Saw 100 Turpen 20 Rods A part Road Very
Bad.
Yours Forever
JOHN MACY.
This was a fair sample of the letters left at the Galapagos post-office.
Captain Porter remained a fortnight among the islands, searching every
hole and corner to find the whalers, and in the intervals exploring the
land, and making sailing directions of the coast, while the men spent
the time when they were not busy with their duties, in catching turtles
and in killing iguanas,--the big lizards that swarmed on the islands,
which though not very pleasant to look at, were excellent to eat. Jack
always likes a frolic on shore when he is not too much hampered by the
restraints of civilization; and the sailors of the "Essex" took great
pleasure in their sports, although the heavy turtles had to be dragged
over the rocky slopes a long distance to bring them to the ship. There
was plenty of fishing, too, for those that stayed on board the ship, and
flocks of penguins and pelicans and other strange birds lined the shore.
Altogether it was a pleasant break, this stay at the Galapagos, and the
ship revisited the spot several times, making it a sort of headquarters
for the next six months.
But all this was not war, and the men began to remember that it was not
prize-money; so when, after a fortnight of it, on the morning of the
29th of April, the cry of "Sail ho!" was heard, every one was glad, and
all the crew rushed eagerly on deck. A large sail was seen to the
westward, and the "Essex" started in pursuit. Soon two more sail were
discovered farther off. They were evidently whalers. If they should only
prove to be enemies! The crew went to work with willing hands, and
bearing down under British colors, by nine o'clock the "Essex" had
overtaken the nearest of the strange ships, the British whaler
"Montezuma." The master came on board and was shown into the cabin,
where he spent an hour in giving his supposed countryman such
information as would help him to capture the Americans. While this
interview was going on, his people were taken on board the frigate as
prisoners, and a prize crew was thrown into the whaler; and when the
master came on deck he was overcome with surprise at finding himself in
the hands of an enemy.
[Illustration: "'WE SURRENDER,' AND DOWN CAME THE FLAG."]
The "Essex" lost no time here, but moved on to reach the other vessels.
Soon the wind fell, and it became a dead calm, while they were still
eight miles away. The boats were then got out, and the men pulled away
for the whalers, under the command of Lieutenant Downes, the first
lieutenant of the "Essex." After a hard row for nearly two hours they
approached the largest of the strangers, which flew the English flag,
and which opened fire upon them. Nothing daunted, Lieutenant Downes kept
steadily on and prepared to board. As he ran up alongside he hailed the
ship and demanded a surrender. "We surrender," was the reply, and down
came the flag.
No sooner had Downes taken possession than the second ship hauled down
her colors without waiting for an attack. The prisoners were quickly
secured, crews were placed on board the whalers, and soon after the
frigate was rejoined by her men, bringing with them the new prizes,--the
"Georgiana" and the "Policy." It was a good day's work, for the three
ships, together with their cargoes of oil, were valued at half a
million. The "Georgiana," a fast, fine vessel, was made a tender, and
the command of her was given to Lieutenant Downes, the other ships being
placed in the charge of the older midshipmen.
The "Essex" now returned to the Galapagos. Here it was found that
vessels had visited the island during her absence, and the "Georgiana"
was sent out under Lieutenant Downes to look for them. The other prizes
were refitted, and after a stay of several days the commodore, as we
may call him now that he had a squadron to command, got under way again
with all his consorts, leaving instructions for Lieutenant Downes in a
bottle, which according to a previous agreement was buried at the foot
of the tree that marked the post-office. After a week's cruising, in
which all the vessels were spread out so as to cover as much ground as
possible, one of them sighted a strange sail, and the "Essex" started in
chase. In a short time it fell calm, and the boats were got out, with
the intention of coming near enough to the stranger to keep her in sight
all night, but not to attack her unless it could be done by surprise.
Soon after the boats got away, however, a breeze sprang up and the
"Essex" again took up the pursuit. The enemy, who carried the British
flag, waited for her to come up, supposing that she was British too; and
he was not undeceived until Porter had got alongside and made him a
prize. The new capture was the whaler "Atlantic," carrying six
18-pounders, and like the others engaged both in privateering and in
whaling. She was very fast, and with her little battery of heavy guns
made a valuable addition to the squadron.
No sooner was the capture of the "Atlantic" completed, than another
whaler was reported in sight, and she too was quickly overhauled and
taken. She was called the "Greenwich," and like the "Atlantic" was a
good sailer. On board the two ships were great quantities of supplies of
all kinds, including water and provisions and naval stores, of which the
"Essex" stood much in need; especially of water, which is so scarce in
the Galapagos that it is sometimes taken from the stomachs of the
turtles,--the only sure place to find it.
The captain now proceeded with his prizes toward the coast of South
America, stopping on the way at the island of La Plata, where he left
instructions for the "Georgiana" in case she should visit it. The letter
was put in a bottle which was hung upon a tree, and the letters "S.X."
were painted on a rock to attract attention. Lieutenant Downes would
know that this meant "Essex," but no one else would suspect it. Soon
afterward a Spanish brig from Panama was spoken, whose captain took the
squadron for an English convoy and gave a full account of the affair
with the "Nereyda;" only he said that the "Nereyda" had attacked the
American frigate and shot away her mainmast, but having suffered much in
the action she thought it best to make her escape by running away, which
she accomplished by throwing overboard her guns,--all which, as we know,
was very different from what had actually happened.
On the 19th the squadron arrived at Tumbez, on the South American coast,
where it remained several days. The Governor of Tumbez, a ragged old
gentleman, who would be of assistance--so Commodore Porter thought--in
selling the prizes, came to the "Essex" by invitation, and was received
with full military honors.
After staying a week at Tumbez the commodore began to be anxious about
the fate of the "Georgiana," which had parted from him at the Galapagos
four weeks before, and of which nothing had since been heard. At last,
on the morning of the 24th of June three vessels were seen coming into
the harbor, one of which was the missing tender. The others were English
whalers--the "Hector" of eleven, and the "Catherine" of eight
guns--which the "Georgiana" had captured. A third prize, the "Rose" of
eight guns, had also been seized by the tender, but she was a dull
sailer, and rather than be impeded by her slow movements Lieutenant
Downes had sent her to England with all the paroled prisoners, after
throwing overboard her guns and cargo.
Commodore Porter now had with him a fleet of nine excellent vessels,
several of which were well armed, and all of which had been supplied by
the enemy. The best of the prizes in every way was the "Atlantic," and
she was fitted out as a new tender in place of the "Georgiana," mounted
with twenty guns, and christened the "Essex Junior." Lieutenant Downes
was transferred to her, and the chaplain was placed in command of the
"Georgiana," which would seem to be a very strange arrangement; but the
chaplains in those days were employed to teach navigation to the younger
officers as well as to administer spiritual advice, so that there was
much that they would know about the management of a ship. Besides, the
supply of regular officers was now almost at an end, even the youngest
midshipmen being placed in charge of prizes.
A plan of action for the remainder of the cruise was now drawn up by the
commodore. The "Essex Junior" was to go to Valparaiso with the
"Montezuma." "Policy," "Hector," and "Catherine," which were to be laid
up or sold or sent to the United States; though there was small chance
that any of them would reach port in safety, while British cruisers
swarmed in the Atlantic Ocean. The "Barclay," the recaptured American
whaler, was to accompany the others to Valparaiso, there to remain and
await further developments. The "Greenwich" was converted into a
store-ship, and all the spare supplies and provisions were put on board
of her. She now carried twenty guns, and with her and the "Georgiana" as
tenders to the "Essex," Commodore Porter proposed to continue his cruise
against the whalers that were still at large in the neighborhood of the
Galapagos Islands. Here the "Essex Junior" was to rejoin him.
This plan was exactly carried out. Early in July the two squadrons
parted company, Lieutenant Downes proceeding to Valparaiso, and the
commodore making his way once more to the Galapagos. The sailors were
rejoiced to return to their rambles on shore and their dinners of
turtle; but they were still more pleased with the prospect of making new
prizes in the neighborhood where they had already been so fortunate.
They did not have long to wait. Hardly had they dropped anchor in the
familiar roadstead, when three sail were reported in sight, and all were
soon under way in pursuit. The "Essex" headed for the ship that seemed
midway between the others, which last made off in opposite directions.
The centre vessel ran off before the wind, and for a while the "Essex"
had a hot chase; but in the end she came up with the stranger, the
English whaler "Charlton," of ten guns. The "Greenwich" made for the
second vessel, which opened fire, but after receiving one or two
well-directed broadsides she hauled down her flag. She was called the
"Seringapatam," and was the finest ship of the Pacific whaling-fleet,
having been built for a ship-of-war. She carried fourteen guns, and did
not trouble herself much about catching whales when it was so much more
profitable to catch the American whalers, one of which she had already
made a prize. The last of the three strangers, the "New Zealander" of
eight guns, was soon after overtaken and captured by the "Essex."
The "Charlton" was now sent to Rio with the prisoners, and the
"Georgiana" was despatched with orders to proceed to the United States;
but she was captured by the enemy on the way home. If the United States
had at this time had a port on the Pacific, all the prizes might have
been easily disposed of. As it was, they were compelled to run the
gantlet of British squadrons in the Atlantic, where they were almost
sure to be retaken.
For two months the "Essex," now accompanied by the "Greenwich," the
"Seringapatam," and the "New Zealander," cruised about among the
islands. There was now only one British whaler left to capture,--the
"Sir Andrew Hammond," commanded by another Captain Porter. At last, one
morning toward the latter part of July she was discovered some distance
off; but the "Essex," unfortunately getting into a dangerous situation
among the rocks and currents, was delayed in following her, and soon she
was lost to view. The next day she was seen again and pursued, but when
the frigate had come within four miles of her it fell calm. The boats of
the "Hammond" were hoisted out, to tow her out of reach. The "Essex"
then called away her boats,--not to tow, but to pull for the whaler and
board her. The commodore was sure that if they could only reach the
enemy they would succeed in taking her. But this time his hopes were
vain. The boats had covered more than half the distance, and were
nearing their object, when suddenly a breeze sprang up, filling the
"Hammond's" sails, and she lost no time in making off. The "Essex" lay
immovable, for she was still becalmed and did not get a breeze until
after sunset. So the Englishman was again lost in the darkness, and next
day no sign of him was to be seen.
Six weeks were now spent at the Islands, during which the "Essex" was
repainted, and her whole appearance so completely changed that her own
officers could hardly recognize her. At the end of this time she started
off alone, hoping to fall in with the "Hammond," which was almost sure
to be somewhere in the neighborhood. The commodore's search was soon
rewarded, for he had been out but a few days, when one morning at
daylight he discovered her some distance to windward, to all appearance
lying to, but really fastened to a whale, which she was in the act of
taking. The disguise of the "Essex" now served her in good stead, for if
she frightened away the enemy there would be little chance of making a
capture. The commodore had learned from the "New Zealander" that a
private signal had been agreed upon between her and the "Hammond;" and
he now came up in a lazy and careless fashion, under British colors, and
showing the private signal. He proceeded on in this way for some hours,
and had got within three or four miles, when suddenly the "Hammond,"
suspecting a stratagem, took alarm, and casting off the whale, made sail
to escape. But she had waited too long. In a few minutes the "Essex" was
within gunshot, and after firing half a dozen rounds the Englishman
struck his colors.
The last of the British whalers in the Pacific had now been captured,
and Commodore Porter could feel that his year's work had accomplished
substantial results. The Americans were safe from attack, for there were
none of the enemy left to attack them. The commodore could now carry
out his plan of retiring for a while with his fleet to some obscure
harbor in the South Seas, where he could refit at leisure, and where his
men could rest from the fatigues of their long voyage. Soon after the
"Essex Junior" came in, with the news that she had taken the prizes
safely to Valparaiso and laid them up, and that the cruise of the
"Essex" had caused so great a commotion in England that three
ships-of-war had been sent out specially to seize her. These had already
arrived at Rio, and before many weeks would make their appearance in the
Pacific.
But the Pacific Ocean is broad, and the Southern Seas are dotted with
innumerable islands, unfrequented at that time by civilized man, with
deep and safe anchorages in their land-locked bays, where ships might
remain for years lost to the world outside. Among all the South Sea
Islands none seemed to offer the needed advantages more than the
beautiful Marquesas, a group inhabited only by native tribes who lived
in primitive simplicity, uncorrupted by the influences of European
civilization. Thither the commodore now shaped his course in the
frigate, taking with him his tenders, the "Essex Junior" and the
"Greenwich," as well as his four latest prizes.
It was about the middle of October when the squadron came to anchor off
the island of Nookaheevah, in the Marquesas group, and here it remained
for two months, during which the "Essex" was thoroughly repaired. The
natives of this part of the island became very friendly, as soon as they
had recovered from their first suspicions. They were like children, and
showed great delight at receiving the simple presents that were given
them,--knives, or fish-hooks, or even pieces of iron hoops or glass
bottles; while a whale's tooth, which the islanders valued above all
other possessions, would purchase, almost anything they had. The king of
the tribe, Gattanewa, an old man of seventy, tattooed from head to foot,
came on board the "Essex" and vowed eternal friendship with the
Americans, ratifying the bond by exchanging names with the
commodore,--"Tavee" or "Opotee," as he was called, which was the nearest
approach that the Nookaheevans could make to David Porter.
The island of Nookaheevah was eighteen miles long and crossed by ranges
of mountains between which lay beautiful and fertile valleys filled with
streams and waterfalls, and little villages, and forests of sandal-wood,
and groves of cocoanut-palm and bread-fruit and banana. In that tropical
climate,--for the place lies near the equator,--where Nature gives with
a liberal hand all that man can ask for, amid the luxuriance of forest
growth, of tree and fruit and grass and flower, with its simple-minded
and childlike people, the sailors of the "Essex" were now to pass two
months of rest and refreshment. It was like the fabled land of the
Lotus-eaters,--a land
"In which it seemed always afternoon.
All round the coast the languid air did swoon,
Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
Full-faced above the valley stood the moon;
And like a downward smoke, the slender stream
Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem.
* * * * *
"The charmèd sunset lingered low adown
In the red west: through mountain clefts the dale
Was seen far inland, and the yellow down
Bordered with palm, and many a winding vale
And meadow."
No sooner had the captain established friendly relations with the
natives, than he saw how great the danger was that his men, intoxicated
by the delights of this enchanted land, would forget their duties, and
like Sir Amyas Leigh's companions sink into the captivating indolence of
the life around them. He wished that they should have relaxation, but he
was not a man who would suffer discipline to grow slack. It was
therefore not without satisfaction that he learned that his sailors
might have some hard work; for the Happahs--the native tribe dwelling in
the next valley--were at war with his friends, and unless he took part
in the conflict he would soon lose their respect and with it their
friendship. So he joined forces with them and landed his men, and after
mounting a six-pounder, which his allies transported for him, on the
intervening range of hills, he drove the Happahs from their fort and
compelled them to ask for peace.
In the valley beyond the Happahs dwelt the Typees, a warlike tribe whom
all the other natives of the island held in great awe because of their
martial prowess. Hearing of "Opotee's" arrival, and of the subjugation
of their neighbors the Happahs, the Typees now declared war against him,
sending him defiant messages and declaring that he dared not fight them.
This challenge the commodore suffered to pass unnoticed, as he did not
wish to run any serious risks where no great object was to be gained.
But he soon discovered that his inaction was having a bad effect upon
the others, who began to think the Americans as much afraid of the
Typees as they were themselves. So he resolved to attack the warlike
tribe.
After his experience with the Happahs the commodore somewhat underrated
his new enemies, and on his expedition against the Typees he took with
him only Lieutenant Downes and about thirty men. The native allies
appeared in great force, but they were not over-zealous when it came to
fighting, their purpose being to witness the combat and take sides with
the party that might win. The attacking force proceeded in boats and
canoes to the landing at the end of the Typee valley. After he had
disembarked and made a reconnoissance, Porter found that he would have
to march with his handful of men to the enemy's stronghold through an
almost impenetrable jungle, which was filled with hundreds of hostile
savages, armed with clubs and slings which they used with no little
skill. But it was impossible to go back now; and the Americans,
advancing with great difficulty, fought their way slowly through the
forest. Early in the day Lieutenant Downes was wounded, having his leg
broken by a stone. Sometime after this mishap the Americans reached a
river which they forded, the enemy retreating as the sailors charged
gallantly up the opposite bank. Here their progress was checked by a
strong fort, and they could not storm it, for the ammunition was nearly
exhausted. The situation was very serious, or would have been so had the
Typees shown more boldness. But they were afraid of the "bouhis," as the
muskets were called, and did not venture to attack; so that the
Americans were able by great care and coolness to extricate themselves
from their dangerous position and retreat through the woods to the
beach.
It was now evident that the Typees must be subdued at any cost. A few
days later Porter, taking with him two hundred men, marched over the
mountains and attacked the natives in their forts. These were captured
one by one, and the men then proceeded up the valley, burning the native
villages. It seemed a pity to do this, but it was the only way in which
the savages could be really reduced; and from that time forward the
Typees and the Americans were fast friends.
At length the time came for the "Essex" to depart from the island. The
sailors were not happy at the prospect of leaving so pleasant a refuge,
and there was some disposition to murmur, as might have been expected.
But the captain sternly checked all insubordination, and on the 9th of
December the "Essex" and the "Essex Junior," repaired, and well supplied
with provisions and stores, sailed away for Valparaiso. The "New
Zealander" sailed soon after on her way to the United States, and the
"Greenwich," with the "Hammond" and "Seringapatam," was left in the
harbor in charge of Lieutenant Gamble of the marines, who was ordered to
start for home in five months unless the "Essex" returned before that
time. The "Essex" did not return, however, and Lieutenant Gamble found
his position full of difficulty. The few men who were left behind became
demoralized, and in May a party of the sailors, among them several who
had deserted from the prizes, mutinied, and seizing the "Seringapatam,"
made their escape from the island. The natives now became hostile, and
Gamble, after losing some more men through treachery, set fire to the
"Greenwich" and left the Marquesas in the "Hammond." He took with him
all that remained of the force,--a midshipman, three marines, and three
seamen. On her way to the Sandwich Islands the "Hammond" was captured by
the enemy's sloop "Cherub;" and Gamble and his midshipman, with their
feeble crew of half a dozen men, were made prisoners.
Meanwhile the "Essex," with her consort the "Essex Junior," made her way
safely to Valparaiso, arriving there early in February. Four days later
the English frigate "Phoebe" appeared off the harbor accompanied by the
sloop-of-war "Cherub," which had been sent out to capture the "Essex."
The two ships were much more than a match for Commodore Porter's force,
for the "Essex Junior" carried such light guns that she was of no use at
all, and the "Phoebe" alone was about as large as the American frigate.
Besides, the "Phoebe" was armed with long guns, while the "Essex" had
mostly carronades; so that if Captain Hillyar, the English commander,
could choose his distance, he would have the "Essex" at his mercy; for,
as we must remember, the long guns carried much farther than the
carronades, and if the ships were far apart would hit their mark at
every shot, while all the projectiles from the small guns would fall
short.
[Illustration]
The English ships lay in or about the harbor for several weeks, and
during this time Commodore Porter made repeated efforts to draw the
"Phoebe" into action alone. The sailors in the "Essex," when the enemy
was near them in the harbor, would amuse themselves by singing songs
about the victories over the English frigates, which were set to the
tune of Yankee Doodle; and the English crews retaliated in like manner
by songs whose object was to banter the Americans. Commodore Porter and
Captain Hillyar were old acquaintances, having been together in the
Mediterranean, and they often met on shore and conversed about their
situation as amicably as if they were great friends instead of being
mortal enemies. On one occasion Porter, speaking of his prizes which
were laid up in the port, said,--
"They are in my way, captain, and I mean to take them outside and burn
them at the first opportunity."
"I dare you to do it," rejoined Captain Hillyar, "while I am in sight."
"We shall see," said Porter.
So choosing a day when the "Phoebe" and "Cherub" were at some distance
outside the harbor, the "Essex" towed the "Hector" out and set fire to
her. The English ships tried their best to head the "Essex" off from the
harbor, but without success, and by evening she was lying safe and sound
at her old anchorage.
Commodore Porter now decided on a judicious plan of action. He had found
by trial that the "Essex" outsailed the "Phoebe," and he proposed to put
to sea with both his ships, the two taking different directions; by
which means either the enemy's ships would be separated, or if they both
followed the "Essex," the "Essex Junior" would escape. Besides, as the
"Cherub" was a dull sailer, the "Phoebe" in attempting to overtake the
"Essex" would be drawn away from her consort, and so might be engaged
alone. At any rate, it was necessary to seize the first opportunity to
escape, for other frigates of the enemy were shortly expected on the
coast.
An accident, and a most unlucky one for the "Essex," finally brought
about the battle. On the 28th of March the wind was blowing fresh,
and the "Essex" parted her cable, and dragging the other anchor drifted
out. Sail was made, but at the moment when she was rounding the point a
squall struck her and carried away her main-topmast. The "Phoebe" and
"Cherub" were close upon her, and finding that she could not regain the
harbor, she ran over to a bay on the western side, where she anchored
half a mile from the shore. This was in neutral waters, just as much so
as in the harbor, and as Captain Hillyar had given assurances that he
would respect the Chilian neutrality, the American commander felt that
he could repair his injuries in security.
[Illustration: "A squall struck her and carried away her main-topmast."]
It is much to the discredit of Captain Hillyar that he did not keep his
word. When he found the "Essex" thus placed at a disadvantage, he took a
position under her stern, where no guns could be brought to bear on him,
and opened an attack. The "Cherub" joined him, and the two ships
together raked the "Essex" almost unopposed, inflicting heavy losses,
until Porter managed to get three long guns out of his stern-ports.
These he worked as well as he could for half an hour, after which the
enemy's vessels hauled off to make repairs, although their damages were
in no degree serious.
The "Essex" was now in a very bad way. Many of her men had been killed
or wounded, and her rigging was so much cut that she could carry hardly
any of her sails. The enemy had suffered no loss worth speaking of.
Commodore Porter nevertheless determined to take the offensive. It was a
desperate measure, but the only one that seemed to promise any hope.
Setting his flying-jib--the only sail he could use--and cutting his
cable, he stood down for the enemy. He could not manoeuvre much, but
for a little while he was near enough to use his broadside of carronades
with some effect. But it was only for a little while. The English were
fighting a safe battle, and meant to use the safest tactics, which of
course it was perfectly right that they should do; and in a little while
both ships had withdrawn out of range of the carronades, and the
"Phoebe's" long 18-pounders were once more covering the decks of the
"Essex" with the bodies of her unlucky men.
Still the "Essex" would not give up. She had been on fire in several
places, but the flames were extinguished. Her carronades were many of
them disabled,--as always happened with carronades,--and as the guns'
crews fell, others took the places of the killed. The cockpit was filled
with wounded, so that there was no room for more. The slaughter on board
was fearful, for in the smooth water every shot from the enemy told with
deadly effect; and at length the captain resolved to run the ship
ashore, as the wind was blowing that way, and land the remainder of his
men and then destroy the frigate. So he made for the land. But just as
he had nearly reached the point where he must touch, the wind shifted
and drove him out again.
At this juncture the "Phoebe," being somewhat injured aloft, began to
drift to leeward, and Porter, in the hope that she might drift out of
range, bent a hawser to the sheet-anchor to hold on where he was. This
would have enabled him to gain a little time; but the hawser parted, and
with it went the last chance for the "Essex." The boats had been
destroyed, but Porter told the men that such as wished might swim for
the shore. Most of the crew preferred to remain by the ship, although
they knew her hours were numbered. The flames were now coming up from
all the hatchways, the hull was riddled, the enemy was still keeping up
a raking fire, and the men were falling at every shot. At last, finding
all the chances against him, the commodore yielded to fate and gave the
order to haul down the flag. Never had the honor of that flag been more
gallantly sustained.
Out of two hundred and twenty-five men on board the "Essex," one hundred
and fifty-five were killed, wounded, or missing. Captain Hillyar, upon
receiving Porter's surrender, entered into an agreement by which the
"Essex Junior" was to be converted into a cartel-ship, and so be exempt
from capture. In her the captain and the remnant of his crew took
passage for the United States, where they at length arrived after nearly
two years of absence. Thus ended the eventful cruise of the "Essex."