The British force on our own coast was now, in 1813, much increased.
Particular attention was paid to the approaches of New York and to the
Chesapeake, which latter region was devastated. Destruction was carried
on under the general orders of the British Admiralty to “destroy and
lay waste all towns and districts of the United States found accessive
to the attacks of the British armaments.” Hampton, in Virginia, was
thus sacked with a brutality which even the very prejudiced British
historian, James, called “revolting to human nature.”
On February 24th the _Hornet_, which we left taking leave of the
_Montagu_, 74, at Bahia, was on January 24th off Demarara. A brig, the
_Espiegle_, was inside the bar; another, standing in for the port, was
the _Peacock_. She was ready to engage, and at 5:25 P.M. action opened;
fourteen minutes later the _Peacock_ was a prize and sinking. The two
vessels were equal in size and nearly equal in men, the _Hornet_ having
aboard 135 to the _Peacock’s_ 122. The _Hornet_ was superior in so far
as carrying 32-pound carronades to the _Peacock’s_ 24’s; but weight
of shot made no difference for the _Peacock’s_ guns did scarcely any
damage. Lawrence, overcrowded with prisoners, returned to the United
States, anchoring at Holmes Hole on March 19th. Less than three months
later he was to die a defeated man, aboard the _Chesapeake_, the victim
of rashness and over-confidence.
The _Chesapeake_, throughout her career an ill-omened ship, had made
a cruise under Captain Evans, leaving Boston December 13, 1812, and
returning there April 9, 1813, having captured five merchantmen. The
term of enlistment of the crew was up, and there being a difficulty
over prize money, most of the men refused to enlist. Captain Evans on
account of ill-health gave up the command, and Lawrence was appointed
in his stead. He joined about the middle of May; he left Boston Harbor
to fight the _Shannon_ a fortnight later. Thus in two weeks he had
to get new officers and a new crew together and prepare for sea. As
for target practice, or for even the ordinary “shaking down,” there
was no opportunity whatever. So new were some of the men to their
ship “that the last draft that arrived still had their hammocks
and bags lying in the boats stowed over the booms when the ship was
captured.”[34] Privateering had now risen to such prominence that
the same difficulties were experienced as to men as in the times of
the Revolution, when it was often impossible to man the ships of the
navy on account of the attractions which the other and freer service
offered. As a consequence a large number of foreigners had to be
taken, including some forty British and a number of Portuguese, these
latter in the best circumstances being what one would not select from
choice. In this case they were particularly troublesome, a Portuguese
boatswain’s mate being the ringleader in what became almost a mutiny
on account of a question of prize money. The first lieutenant, Page,
was ill ashore; he was replaced by a young lieutenant, Ludlow, who had
been third on the _Chesapeake’s_ last cruise; the third and fourth were
only midshipmen with acting appointments. To go to sea thus and fight a
battle with a ship which had been in commission six and a half years,
under a particularly able captain, was simple madness. But this, driven
by over-confidence and perhaps an over-desire for distinction, is what
Lawrence did.
Captain Philip Bowes Vere Broke, to give him his full name, had
commissioned the _Shannon_, a new ship, on September 14, 1806. He was
_sui generis_ in his own service, for he carried on target practice
twice a week, whereas the usual custom in the British navy of the time
was once a year; his guns were furnished with sights, which was also
unusual, and he was a kindly captain with the good-will of his crew,
likewise unusual in those days of free use of the cat.
The two ships, without going into detail, were practically of equal
force, each carrying 52 guns. The _Chesapeake_ had 379 men; the
_Shannon_ 330, 30 of whom were new hands. The _Shannon_ had been off
Boston for some time, when on June 1st Broke sent a letter to Lawrence
challenging him to meet the _Shannon_ later at a given point. It is a
great pity that this failed to reach Lawrence in time.
On May 31st the _Chesapeake_ dropped down to the lower bay; the men
were stationed at the guns and were exercised at the battery. On June
1st, a little after midday, she stood to sea under all sails, even to
studding sails. The _Shannon_ stood off shore under easy sail until
about eighteen miles from Boston Light, where she awaited her foe,
which had now also reduced her canvas.
There is no need to go into the manœuvres, which can be found in many
books. Lawrence brought his ship so close that both vessels suffered
severely. He was soon mortally wounded and the sailing master (who
looked after the handling of the ship under the captain’s orders) was
killed. The two most important officers were thus removed early in the
action. A heavy explosion occurred in the _Chesapeake_, probably by
the ignition of cartridges lying on the deck. At six o’clock the two
ships came together, the _Shannon’s_ anchor catching in one of the
after ports of the _Chesapeake_. Broke now ordered “away boarders.”
The _Chesapeake’s_ first lieutenant, Ludlow, received a wound of which
later he died. Cox, the third lieutenant, coming up from the main deck,
was so unmanned by the conditions of things that he turned and ran
below, an act for which he was later court-martialled and dismissed
from the service. As Broke came aboard heading some twenty men, the
only opposition that could be offered at the moment came from the nine
marines, all that were left unhurt of forty-four. Their commander,
Broom, and a corporal, were dead, and both sergeants were wounded.
The only officer there at the moment was the chaplain, Livermore, who
fired his pistol at Broke, and himself was severely wounded, in return,
by a sword cut from Broke. The large number of mercenaries aboard
had run below. Lieutenant George Budd, stationed on the main deck,
now ran up, followed by some dozen men, and attacked the boarders,
killing the purser, Aldham, and the captain’s clerk, Drum, but Budd was
soon wounded and knocked down the main hatchway. The wounded Ludlow
struggled to the spar deck, and received another wound. Broke himself
showed brilliant courage in leading his men and was severely wounded.
Just fifteen minutes after the action began, the _Chesapeake’s_
colors were hauled down. “Of her 379 men, 61 were killed or mortally
wounded, including her captain, first and fourth lieutenants, the
lieutenant commanding the marines, the master, boatswain, and three
midshipmen; 85 were wounded more or less severely, including both her
other lieutenants, five midshipmen, and the chaplain; total, 148; the
loss falling entirely upon the American portion of the crew. Of the
_Shannon’s_ men, 33 were killed outright or died of their wounds,
including her first lieutenant, purser, captain’s clerk, and one
midshipman, and 50 were wounded, including the captain and boatswain;
total, 83.”[35]
The _Chesapeake_ was taken to Halifax. Lawrence and Ludlow were buried
there with every honor. The remains of the former were later taken
to New York, where in the churchyard of old Trinity they now lie.
Lawrence’s dying words: “Don’t give up the ship,” were later blazoned
on a flag flown by Perry on Lake Erie, where the dead hero was to have
his revenge, for hero he was, however mistaken in judgment. His fatal
action was the ignoring of the value of preparation in war. Discipline
and training are as necessary as valor, an axiom which our people are
only too slow to learn.
The result caused immense rejoicing in England. It is the only naval
action of the war which to-day receives recognition there, and I doubt
if the British people in general, of the present, know of any other.
And while treating of it, there is a persistent unfairness in ignoring
conditions of the _Chesapeake_; even in articles which were written in
1913, the hundredth year later, by historians from whom fairness might
be expected, no mention was made of them. It is left to another and
fairer foreigner, a Frenchman, Admiral Jurien de la Gravière, the most
distinguished writer on naval affairs of his nation, to tell the truth,
when he said: “Fortune was not fickle, she was merely logical.”
A little later there was an action which was really discreditable
to us: that of the _Argus_, a brig of 298 tons and 10 guns, against
the British _Pelican_, of 467 tons and 11 guns. The _Argus_ had been
cruising in the English Channel “capturing and burning ship after ship
and creating the greatest consternation among the London merchants.”
On August 13th she had captured a brig laden with wine from Oporto,
a success which was to be apparently her undoing. Next day she met
the _Pelican_. The _Argus’s_ captain, Allen, was killed early in the
action, as were also two midshipmen; her first lieutenant was wounded.
The odds were against her, but not to such degree as to account for
the too slight resistance later in the action. It is not unlikely, as
has been said by competent historians, that the captured port had much
to do with this. The results of such actions had previously been so
markedly different that there is reason to suspect this. The capture
of the _Argus_ was soon offset by that of the British brig _Boxer_,
of 66 men and 14 guns, by the _Enterprise_, of 104 men and 16 guns.
Captain Blyth of the _Boxer_ was killed early in the action, as was
also Lieutenant Burrows of the _Enterprise_. The few remaining American
brigs disappeared by capture by much superior forces, most of them by
squadrons from which there was no escape.
There had undoubtedly by this time been a falling off in the character
of the American crews. The Atlantic now swarmed with privateers which,
as in our Revolution, attracted the best men; the navy thus labored
under a severe handicap. The privateers did immense damage to British
commerce and caused the British merchant to long for peace, but they
damaged our real naval interests. This damage would have been more real
had not the British naval power now begun to tell in blockade, which
became one of absolute strictness. The _United States_ and the captured
_Macedonian_, which had been repaired and commissioned at New York,
got to New London by way of Hell Gate, but were so strictly watched
that they remained there for the rest of the war. Naval action was now,
perforce, to be confined almost entirely to the lakes, where it was
momentous in character. The fights on the ocean were but exhibitions of
ability and prowess; those on the lakes were vital to the outcome of
the war.