During the war of 1812, as in that of the Revolution, the government
of the United States issued “letters of marque,” giving authority to
private individuals to build, arm, and man vessels, for the purpose
of making reprisals upon and destroying the enemy’s commerce. While
these “privateers,” as they were called, were entirely outside of
and unconnected with the regular naval force of the country, they
became one of the most potent weapons wielded on the high seas in
behalf of the government. Their destructiveness to English commerce
made them the dread of the ocean, for the daring men who engaged in
privateering enterprises were the best shipmasters and seamen of
their day, perfectly familiar with all coast ports and the highways
of the sea, so they knew where to strike most effectively for their
own advantage. A vessel captured under the English flag, became,
with her cargo, the lawful prize of her captors, and the proceeds of
sale were divided under established rules among the owners, officers
and men of the privateer, the business in many instances being
very profitable. The English commercial vessels likewise armed for
defence, and quite often there were spirited engagements before the
English Jack would be lowered to the Stars and Stripes flown by some
saucy, fast sailing Yankee brig, or long, low, rakish schooner of the
Baltimore clipper type.
France being friendly to the United States, her ports were open to
our privateers and their prizes, so the English channel itself, right
under the nose, of Great Britain, was a tempting cruising ground
where our letters of marque made many a successful venture and some
of them came to grief in capture by the English men-of-war.
As has been previously said in this series of reminiscences, Plymouth
had her full number of adventurous spirits, and her “men of the sea”
on board the many privateers, sailing from southern and northern
ports. On two vessels, however, the “Leo” and the “George Little,”
fitted at Boston, the crews were largely made up of Plymouth men, so
they may be regarded as the “Plymouth privateers” of 1812. Of the
“Leo’s” career we have no detailed knowledge, but it has been told us
that Captain Harvey Weston, Captain Robert Hutchinson, Captain John
Chase, Captain Nat Bartlett and others from this town whose names are
not known, were members of her company, and that she took several
prizes before she herself was forced to surrender over on the English
coast. Her men were imprisoned for the rest of the war period, some
of them being sent to the horrible Dartmoor prison of England, of
which history says that the dreadful tales of suffering and death in
the “black hole” and massacre by the guards are all too truthful, but
the “Leo’s” men were not there when the prison was at its very worst.
The “George Little” was a smart hermaphrodite brig, mounting ten guns
and a “chaser,” and was owned and fitted at Boston. Her commander was
Captain Nathaniel Spooner; first lieutenant, Captain Samuel Doten;
second lieutenant, William Holmes, and third lieutenant, — Turner,
all of Plymouth. The crew list contained the names of many of our
townsmen, but as it was not preserved, only those of Jacob Morton,
William Hammatt and William Stacy are now remembered. A private log
book of the voyage was kept by first lieutenant Doten, and is now
in possession of his son, Captain Charles C. Doten, the first entry
being: Monday, December 26, 1814, at 2 p. m., passed Boston light,
fresh gale, north by east, and extreme cold. At 3 p. m. chased by one
of His Majesty’s gun brigs, and outsailed her with ease.
At that time there was a fleet of British men-of-war cruising along
the American coast from Maine to Virginia, several frigates and
gun brigs making rendezvous at Provincetown, and often coming over
near the Gurnet, thence running up off Boston and along the Cape
Ann shore. It was from one of these brigs that the “George Little”
so easily escaped and got to sea. The log has daily entries, that
of January 7, 1815, recording that William Stacy fell from the top
gallant mast head, sending down royal yard, by the royal mast pitch
poling, and was saved on topsail yard.” “January 12, at 6.25 a. m.,
made a sail four leagues away, and set chase. At 11.30 she fired a
lee gun—11.40 fired another, and set English colors—11.55, seeing
American colors she fired her stern chasers in good direction for
us, but without effect, they falling short, and in a moment struck.
Proved to be the ship “Mary,” six guns and eighteen men, James Bags,
master, from New Foundland with fish for Lisbon. 13th took some
articles from the prize, put Mr. Turner and nine men on board, and
ordered her to proceed for first port in the United States.”
It may here be stated that the “Mary” arrived safely at Marblehead,
where with her cargo she was sold, yielding to the “George Little’s”
owners and men a good amount of prize money. The “Mary’s” crew, being
two to one of the “Little’s” men put on board, attempted to retake
her, but after a severe fight were driven below, and Jacob Morton of
Plymouth, who was a powerful man, drew the companion slide over them,
and upon it placed a large anchor, lifting alone the weight which two
ordinary men would have found a test of their strength.
The “George Little” held on her course across the ocean, intending
to cruise in the English channel and take her prizes, if any were
there secured, into French ports. Off the Azores or Western Islands,
January 21st and 22d, she chased a vessel but lost her. January
28 she overhauled the Prussian schooner “Ferwarhting,” from St.
Michael’s for Hamburg with fruit, and put Captain Bags, his son and
mate of the “Mary” on board.
“February 2 overhauled Prussian brig, “Ann Elizabeth,” from London to
St. Michael’s, in ballast. Put four prisoners on board and ordered
her to proceed. Lost both boats boarding, but saved all the men.”
February 4th and 5th the privateer brig was in chase of a sloop,
which escaped in the darkness of the second night, and the next day
the “George Little” met her own fate, the log reading as follows:
“February 6, made a sail on our lee bow, which gave chase at 8.30.
Bore away, made all sail, supposing her to be a frigate. At 9 she
fired her bow chaser, which fell short. At 10 her shot went over
us. At 11.30, finding no means of escape, we reluctantly struck our
colors to His Majesty’s ship “Granicus” of 36 guns, Captain William
Furlong Wise. So was lost the “George Little,” in my opinion for the
want of those necessaries to induce one and all to do their best to
save her, as we were short of bread, beef—poor rum—generally spirits
sunk—this is the effect of too much economy privateering. So ends
these 24 hours, rainy, and overpowering all with heavy hearts.”
The closing remarks above would indicate that the owners of the
“George Little” had not been liberal in fitting out the vessel, and
in consequence some discontent had existed on board. The “Granicus”
took the prisoners to Gibraltar, where they were placed with others
on hulks anchored in the harbor, and kept during March. On the 26th
of that month “His Majesty’s ship Eurylaus from the Chesapeake,
arrived with news of the ratification of peace between the United
States and Great Britain,” and on the 29th the prisoners were
embarked for England in the “Eurylaus,” arriving at Plymouth April
16th. Captain Doten’s memorandum becomes personal after that date,
and relates that on the 17th he was sent on board the “Ganges”
74, and on the 21st “had intelligence of the arrival of the Mary
at Marblehead, by an American paper of February 24.” April 24, he
says he “obtained permission to go on shore from the Ganges,” and
May 3d, “smuggled myself on board the ‘Royal Sovereign,’ Captain
Spence, bound to Boston as a cartel”—a vessel commissioned to
exchange prisoners. The “Royal Sovereign” had 400 prisoners, and as
she was coming direct to Boston, Captain Doten, not being included
in the list, took his chances as a stowaway. The vessel sailed from
Plymouth, England, May 4th, and arrived in Boston after a passage
of 35 days. In crossing the Grand Banks the schooner “Almira” of
Provincetown was spoken, 25 days from home, with 10,000 fish.
A personal expense account appended to Captain Doten’s journal of the
“George Little’s” cruise shows that at Gibraltar he spent $51.25,
among the items being $15.25 for provisions, and $1.00 for liquor, a
proportion which certainly was very moderate for those days. On board
the “Ganges” his expenses were $14.95, and at Plymouth, $105.63,
mostly for clothing, and passage home. The latter, seven pounds, was
probably paid to Captain Spence for not finding him on board until
the “Royal Sovereign” was at sea. The total of $171.83 paid out on
account of capture, was recouped with a fair margin of profit from
his share of the prize money of the “Mary.”
The lack of facilities for quick transmission of news at that time,
is strikingly illustrated by the fact that the treaty to end the war
was signed at Ghent, December 24, 1814, two days before the “George
Little” sailed from Boston, so her entire cruise was made in a period
of unknown peace. The battle of New Orleans, in which the British
were defeated with a loss of 2,000 men, including the death of their
commanding general, Edward Pakenham, was fought January 8, 1815, two
weeks after the agreement on articles of peace, which at the present
time would have been known all over the world within a few minutes of
their adoption.
It was a custom for old shipmasters and seamen, after their seafaring
days were over, occasionally to meet in Captain Doten’s counting room
at the head of what is now Captain E. B. Atwood’s wharf, and while
a wild northeaster howled outside they would toast their shins at a
good fire, smoke their pipes, and spin yarns of privateering days,
or their experiences in various voyages to the West Indies or ports
across the ocean. There could be no keener enjoyment to those of
younger generations than to sit while all was blue about them from
the tobacco exhalations, and listen to these “tales of the sea” from
men who were veritable actors in the scenes so vividly recalled.
Two incidents pertaining to Captain Doten’s cruise in the “George
Little,” as her first lieutenant, thus came out, not written in
his journal. When at the time of her capture by the “Granicus” the
American flag was hauled down on the “George Little,” Lieutenant
Doten was not only chagrined, but wrathy, and swore that he wouldn’t
surrender his sword to any Englishman, so he broke it across his
knee. The boarding officer from the “Granicus” on finding him
without side arms to give up, at once declared him not entitled to
consideration, and ordered him ironed. This was done, and in that
condition, with Captain Spooner, he was taken to the “Granicus.” To
the great surprise of the boarding officer who had thus thought to
humiliate him, he was greeted by Captain Wise of the frigate as he
stepped on the deck with, “Hallo, Sam! what have you got those on
for?” “Because I was a fool and broke my sword,” was the response, at
which Captain Wise laughed and called the master-at-arms to relieve
him of the “bracelets,” bidding him go to the private cabin. There
Captain Wise soon joined him, and over a bottle of the best, they
renewed the acquaintance of some years before, when Captain Doten,
then master of the brig “Dragon” of Plymouth, Mass., had sailed for
three years in succession under convoy of Captain Wise, engaged in
carrying naval stores up the Baltic from Plymouth, England, the
“Dragon” having been chartered by the British government among other
merchant vessels for that purpose. This service brought Captain
Doten into quite intimate relations with many of the English naval
officers, so that when he was a prisoner at Gibraltar, he was
allowed many privileges. Among these was shore going almost daily,
and passage through the batteries to the top of the Rock, where he
could spend the time more agreeably than on the prison hulk. One day
in going up he found Lieutenant Daly, who was in charge of one of
the batteries, unshotting the guns, and was told by him that some
ships in the offing were from America and signalled that the British
had won a great victory, in honor of which he was ordered to fire
a salute when the details were known. Much depressed in spirits,
Captain Doten listened during the day for the salute, but it was
not fired. Returning in the afternoon, Daly was then engaged in
reshotting the guns, and explained that when the ships got nearer,
the fortress had learned that there indeed had been a great battle
“at a place called New Orleans,” but it had resulted in a tremendous
defeat for the British arms, and General Pakenham had been “sent
home in a hogshead of rum.” Daly—who of course was an Irishman—added
at a low breath, “and I’m glad of it.” Captain Doten told the great
news to his fellow prisoners on the hulk, and that night after they
had been confined below the gratings one of their number, a ship
carpenter, who had located where a barrel of beer rested on the deck,
bored up through the planks and bilge of the cask, inserting an
improvised tube or pipe, and drew off the contents. Of course a great
deal ran to waste, but enough was secured to make all hands feel
mighty “merry,” and they hilariously celebrated the victory of New
Orleans, taunting the guard so outrageously, singing “Yankee Doodle,”
and bandying epithets, that they were only partially quieted by the
gratings being removed, the guard drawn up around the hatchways with
muskets pointed down into the crowd, and the threat made to fire
if the disturbance did not cease. Undoubtedly there would have been
shooting, but the English officers had heard rumors of peace, and
under such circumstances the killing of unarmed prisoners would have
been deemed murder. They “made a night of it,” and the next day, when
the loss of the beer was discovered, the cause of their high spirits
was explained, while the shrewd manner in which they had obtained the
liquid for the jollification, was characterized by the commander of
the hulk, as “another d—d smart Yankee trick.”
During the passage of the Royal Sovereign bringing home 400
prisoners, she was caught in a heavy gale near the Grand Banks, but
Captain Spence, her commander, was a good seaman, and made a safe
arrival at Boston.