XI
THE DEFENCE OF THE “GENERAL ARMSTRONG”
[September 26th, 1814]
Samuel Chester Reid was born at Norwich, Connecticut, in August, 1783. Like the majority of the commanders who gained renown during the war of 1812, his seafaring life began at a very early age. At eleven years he made his first voyage, and shortly afterwards he was captured by a French privateer, and for some time confined in the prison at Basseterre. He was released after six months’ imprisonment, and, turning towards the regular navy, he served as acting midshipman on the U.S.S. Baltimore, and saw a good bit of active service with the squadron under Commodore Truxton in the West Indies.
As he held no regular commission in the service, he saw the great chance and opportunity presented for privateering enterprise, and took command of the General Armstrong, privateer. Her cruises were uniformly successful, and had it not been that circumstances forced her into national prominence she would probably have been forgotten like a hundred others of her class that had a vogue at the time. They enjoyed the popularity of the successful actor, but their names have gone out of people’s memories after their short careers of glory.
But there has probably been as much writing done about the wonderful defence of the General Armstrong, under Captain Samuel Reid, as there has been about any action in which ships of our regular navy participated. Captain Reid died in 1861, but even after his death the “Armstrong affair” was long kept before the public mind, owing to the claims of the heirs of the owners of the American vessel for damages against the Portuguese government.
The General Armstrong was a fast-sailing, cleverly handled little vessel, and she sailed from the port of New York, her crew having been recruited there. It was a motley gathering, as a great many of the crews of these vessels were, being composed of the pick of the merchant service, a few down-east fishermen, and, not strange to relate, adventurers of every sort and description, who, however, proved themselves to be great fighters when under competent leadership. Her full complement was about ninety men. The brig’s armament was rather a peculiar one; she carried no carronades, but had three long nines on either side, and a long 24-pounder amidships. She could fight at a greater distance than many of the vessels belonging to the regular service.
Farragut in his journal mentions that when he was a midshipman of the Essex, sailing from New York, a sail was sighted off the weather beam. To the surprise of the officers she was carrying more canvas than might have been considered prudent considering the weather, but she stood up under it and legged it so fast that she soon came within hailing distance of the Essex. The latter vessel, not knowing her character, had her men at quarters. All the officers admired the way the little brig was handled. Upon speaking her she proved to be the General Armstrong, bound upon her second cruise into British waters—her first had been most successful.
But to the event which has handed her name down to history. On September 26th, 1814, the General Armstrong came to anchor in the Portuguese harbor of Fayal. At about sunset of the same day three large ships, flying the British flag, were seen to enter the roads.
As the privateer lay some distance out and it was dead calm within the harbor, Captain Reid deemed it wise to trust entirely to the neutrality of the port, and to claim the protection that should be given to any vessel by a neutral power.
As darkness fell he saw some suspicious actions on the part of the British ships—the Carnation coming as close as pistol-shot range, and the others approaching to a distance of less than two miles; through the glass Reid could see that boats were being lowered. He trusted, however, for some time in the good faith and justice of the British captains, but these preparations suggested no peaceful intentions, and he began to warp his brig closer in to shore, anchoring at last, stem and stern, under the very guns of the castle that commanded the harbor.
Calling his men on deck, he told them that he thought that the British intended, if possible, to cut him out. At once the temper of the crew was evident. A boatswain’s mate approached him, and, saluting, said: “You can trust in us, sir. What you say we do.”
It was growing dusk. At about eight o’clock Captain Reid plainly saw four boats filled with armed men row down towards him. As soon as they were within hailing distance he stepped upon the bulwarks, and, making a trumpet of his hands, he shouted: “Boats there! Approach no nearer; for your safety I warn you.”
The rowing ceased, and there was evidently a consultation among the officers in command. Captain Reid’s men were standing at their quarters. Two of the guns were heavily loaded with grape. After talking a few minutes it was evident that the English decided to risk the venture, for the oars caught the water at once, and they came dashing on towards the American vessel. All dissembling was laid aside, and Reid ordered his men to fire. Two of the boats mounted swivels forward and returned shots in answer. A discharge of small-arms also began, but the torrent of grape that had raked one of the cutters had killed a first lieutenant and several of his men, and most of the others were wounded. The boats swung back, and made for the sanctuary of the vessels in the harbor.
The moon had now risen, and it was very light. Large crowds had gathered on the shore, but the castle displayed no intention of taking any part in the affair.
The commanders of His Britannic Majesty’s ships Plantagenet, Rota, and Carnation held a consultation. It resulted in a “most outrageous violation of the neutrality of a friendly port, and utter contempt of the laws of civilized nations,” to quote from the report of John G. Dabney, American consul at Fayal.
Angered at the result of their first attempt, the English threw all caution aside. They crowded as many men as possible into all the boats they had, armed them with carronades, swivels, and small-arms, and once more rowed down in two divisions; but Reid was waiting for them. The guns were double-shotted, and he moved two of the long nines from the other side across the deck and cut ports for them in the bulwarks. A tremendous action now began, which lasted about forty minutes. Never in any of the hostile meetings between the frigates or the fleets of the United States and England has such destruction and carnage been recorded, in proportion to the number engaged, as is shown by the loss of the British on this occasion. The fire from the brig cut away whole boats’ crews and almost destroyed the boats. It is estimated that about 400 men were divided among the flotilla of the attacking party. They fought bravely, but there is merit in being well prepared for defence. More than half of the British were either killed or wounded, “Long Tom,” the 25-pounder, doing terrible execution.
The outmost boats showed signs of giving up the contest. Those nearer the General Armstrong continued to fight desperately, but none had approached near enough to cut their way through the boarding nettings which Reid had strung along the sides.
Seeing that there was an intention to retire, if possible, on the part of the British, he slackened his fire. Two boats were drifting, however, beneath the quarter of the privateer. They were loaded with their own dead. From these two boats only seventeen men reached shore alive, and, with the exception of three, all of these were wounded.
The following day, from dawn until sunset, the British were occupied in burying their dead, among them being two lieutenants, one midshipman of the Rota, and the first lieutenant of the Plantagenet, who died of his wounds. The British endeavored to conceal the extent of the loss, but even they admit that they lost in killed and those who died of their wounds afterwards upward of one hundred and twenty-five officers and men.
The captain of the Rota, in his report, stated that he lost seventy men from his own ship.
It was claimed by the English that the first expedition of four boats, which was sent out early in the evening of the 26th, was merely a reconnoitring party, and had no hostile intentions; but it seemed a strange thing to reconnoitre at night an enemy’s vessel in a friendly port with one hundred and twenty armed men, a third as many again as were on board the American brig. There is no question, viewing the proceedings dispassionately, that they had hoped to take Reid by surprise.
To quote from Dabney’s report once more: “In vain can he [the British commander] expect by such subterfuge to shield himself from the indignation of the world and the merited resentment of his own government and nation for thus trampling on the sovereignty of their most ancient and faithful ally, and for the wanton sacrifice of British lives.”
The comparison of the loss sustained by the American and by the British sides is almost ridiculous—on the Armstrong two were killed and seven wounded. One of the former was Alexander O. Williams, of New York, the second lieutenant, an officer of bravery and merit. The first and third lieutenants, Messrs. Worth and Johnson, were wounded, and thus, strange to say, Captain Reid was deprived of the services of all of his junior officers, and was forced to conduct the defence alone.
The next morning one of the British ships took advantage of the wind which sprang up, and, sailing in, commenced a heavy cannonade upon the privateer. Captain Reid replied for a few moments, but finding of course that the result of final capture was inevitable, owing to the fact that the other vessels displayed intentions of joining in, he decided to abandon the General Armstrong. He hove his guns and powder overboard, and, manning his boats, brought his crew ashore.
As soon as the Armstrong was abandoned the British took possession of her, but, finding that she had been partially destroyed, out of revenge immediately set fire to her.
Dabney, in his letter to the Secretary of State, remarks as follows: “At nine o’clock in the evening (soon after the first attack) I called on the Governor, requesting his Excellency to protect the privateer, either by force or by such remonstrance to the commander of the squadron as would cause him to desist from any further attempt. The Governor, indignant at what had passed, but feeling himself totally unable, with the slender means he possessed, to resist such a force, took the part of remonstrating, which he did in forcible but respectful terms. His letter to Captain Lloyd had no other effect than to produce a menacing reply, insulting in the highest degree. Nothing can exceed the indignation of the public authorities, as well as of all ranks and descriptions of persons here, at this unprovoked enormity. Such was the rage of the British to destroy this vessel that no regard was paid to the safety of the town. Some of the inhabitants were wounded, and a number of houses were much damaged. The strongest representations on this subject are prepared by the Governor for his court.”
Now followed one of the strangest incidents that occurred during our last war with England. The senior commander, Captain Lloyd, threatened to send on shore an armed force to arrest the crew of the privateer, claiming that Englishmen were among them; but the General Armstrong’s people fled to the mountains, and some of them took possession of an old church, preparing to defend themselves. Lloyd was fearful of losing more men if he tried to force this point; so, resorting to stratagem, he addressed an official letter to the Governor, stating that in the American crew were two men deserters from his own squadron, and who were thus guilty of high-treason. Under this claim a force was sent into the country by the Portuguese. The American seamen were arrested and brought to town, but the pretended deserters could not be found. All the seamen, however, had to pass under the humiliating examination of the British officers.
It was a fortunate thing that the erroneous statement of Captain Lloyd resulted in nothing more serious than this.
Reid protested against the actions of the commanders of the British squadron, and also against the government of Portugal for not protecting him, and it was on this protest that the wearisome waiting and lawsuits arose which became known as the “Armstrong claims,” and which were decided unfortunately against the Americans by Louis Napoleon, who was chosen arbiter. The “Long Tom” was presented to America by the Portuguese three years ago, and was exhibited at the World’s Fair in Chicago.