“NO ‘DUTCH COURAGE’ ON THIS SHIP”
As the vessels came nearer and an action became certain, the stewards came on deck with the grog-buckets, in accordance with the time-honored rule on men-of-war by which the liquor is served before a fight. Instructions had been given that, as the battle was to be with two ships, a double portion of the drink should be served. But just as the stewards were about to ladle it out an old quartermaster rolled down from forward, and saying, “We don’t want any ‘Dutch courage’ on this ship,” with a great kick sent the bucket and its contents flying into the scuppers.
About four o’clock the westernmost ship signalled her consort and bore down to leeward to join her. The “Constitution” now set her stu’n-sails and went bearing down after them at a strain that seemed to menace her spars. She was rapidly drawing up with them when, just as she got well within range of the long guns, there was a sharp crack far aloft and the royal-mast snapped off at the cap. It was a doubtful moment, for the Englishmen crowded on all sail to escape, and rapidly drew together, flinging out their English ensigns as though in triumph.
But they did not reckon on the superb seamanship of the “Constitution.” In a trice the men were aloft with their axes, the wreck was cleared away, new gear was rove, and in half an hour a new mast was aloft and another royal was spread to the breeze.
But the ships had been enabled to close with each other, and Stewart had lost the opportunity of attacking them separately. They made one ineffectual effort to get the weather-gauge, but, finding that the “Constitution” outpointed them, they settled back in line of battle and cleared ship for action. Stewart immediately showed his colors and beat to quarters.
The fog had blown away and the sun had set behind a lowering bank of clouds. The wind still blew briskly, but the “Constitution” only pitched slightly, and offered a fairly steady platform for the guns, which were now trained upon the nearest vessel, but a few hundred yards broad off the port-bow. The darkness fell rapidly, and the moon came out from behind the fast-flying cloud-bank and silvered the winter twilight, gleaming fitfully on the restless water, a soft reproach upon the bloody work that was to follow.
At a few moments past six the long guns of the “Constitution’s” port-battery opened fire, and the battle was on. Both ships responded quickly to the fire, and for fifteen minutes the firing was so rapid that there was not a second’s pause between the reverberations. The English crews cheered loudly. But the gunners of the “Constitution” went on grimly with their work, sponging and loading as though at target-practice, content to hear the splintering of the timbers of the nearest vessel as the double-shotted thirty-twos went crashing into her. Before long the smoke became so thick that the gunners could not see their adversaries; and Stewart, ordering the batteries to cease firing, drew ahead and ranged abeam of the foremost ship, with his port-battery reloaded and double-shotted. He waited until he was well alongside before giving the order to fire, when he delivered such a terrible hail of round-shot, grape, and canister that the enemy staggered and halted like an animal mortally wounded. For the moment her battery was entirely silenced, and during the lull they could hear the cries of the wounded as they were carried below to the cockpit. The English cheered no longer. Another such a broadside might have finished her; but before Stewart could repeat it he saw that the other ship was luffing up so as to take a raking position under the stern of the “Constitution.”
Nowhere did the wonderful presence of mind of Stewart and the splendid seamanship of his crew show to better advantage than in the manœuvre which followed. He quickly braced his main- and mizzen-topsails flat to the mast, let fly all forward, and actually backed down upon the other enemy, who, instead of being able to rake the “Constitution,” found her emerging from the smoke abreast his bows in a position to effectually rake him. The “Constitution’s” guns by this time had all been reloaded, and a terrific fire swept fore and aft along the decks of the Englishman, tearing and splintering her decks and dismounting many of the guns of both batteries. So terrible was the blow that she faltered and fell off. Before she could recover from the first, another terrible broadside was poured into her.
The other vessel now tried to luff up and rake the “Constitution” from the bows. But the American filled away immediately and let them have her other broadside. Side by side the “Constitution” and the larger ship sailed, firing individually and by battery as fast as they could sponge and load. Here and there a shot would strike within the stout bulwarks of the American; and one of these tore into the waist, killing two men and smashing through a boat in which two tigers were chained. A sailor named John Lancey, of Cape Ann, was carried below horribly mutilated. When the surgeon told him he only had a few moments to live, he said, “Yes, sir, I know it; but I only want to know that the ship has struck.” Soon after, when he heard the cheers at her surrender, he rose from his cot, and, waving the stump of his blood-stained arm in the air, gasped out three feeble cheers and fell back lifeless.
Having silenced the larger vessel, Stewart immediately hurried to the smaller one, which had been firing through the smoke at the gun-flashes. The “Constitution” fell off, and, gathering headway, succeeded in getting again across her stern, where she poured in two raking broadsides, which practically cut her rigging to pieces. Returning to the larger vessel, Stewart rounded to on her port-quarter and delivered broadside after broadside with such a telling effect that at 6.50 she struck her colors.
The other vessel having in a measure refitted, came down gallantly but foolishly to the rescue of her consort. The “Constitution” met her with another broadside, which she tried to return, and then spread all sail to get away. But the American ship could outsail as well as outpoint her, and under the continuous fire of the bow-chasers of the “Constitution” she became practically helpless, and at about ten o’clock, when the dreaded broadside was about to be put into play again, she surrendered.
It was a wonderful battle. In a fight between one sailing-ship and two the odds were four-fold on the side of the majority. For it was deemed next to impossible to rake without being doubly raked in return. This obvious disadvantage was turned by Stewart to his own account by what critics throughout the world consider to be the finest manœuvring ever known in an American ship in action. He fought both his broadsides alternately, and luffed, wore, or backed his great vessel as though she had been a pleasure-boat. Neither of his adversaries succeeded in delivering one telling raking broadside. She seemed to be playing with them, and skilfully presented her reloaded guns to each vessel as it attempted to get her at a disadvantage.
The larger vessel was discovered to be the “Cyane,” 32, Captain Gordon Falcon, and the smaller one the sloop-of-war “Levant,” 21, Captain George Douglass. The “Constitution” had fifty-one guns, while the Englishmen had fifty-three; but of the “Constitution’s” crew four were killed and ten wounded. On the “Cyane” and “Levant” thirty-five were killed and forty-two were wounded.
After the battle, while the two English captains were seated in Stewart’s cabin dining with their victor, a discussion arose between them in regard to the part each had borne in the battle, while Stewart listened composedly. Their words became warmer and warmer, and each accused the other in plain terms of having been responsible for the loss of the vessels. At a point when it seemed as though the bitterness of their remarks bade fair to result in blows, Stewart arose and said, dryly,—
“Gentlemen, there is no use getting warm about it; it would have been all the same, whatever you might have done. If you doubt that, I will put you all on board again, and we can try it over.”
The invitation was declined in silence.
For this gallant action Congress awarded Stewart a sword and a gold medal, and “Old Ironsides” soon after the war was over was temporarily put out of commission. Her day of fighting was over. But years after, refitted and remodelled, she served her country in peace as gracefully as she had served it gloriously in war.
THE “CONSTITUTION” AND THE “GUERRIERE”
By the exercise of remarkable seamanship Captain Hull had succeeded in escaping from the British squadron, under Broke, off the Jersey coast. But he came so near capture that the secretary of the navy succeeded in frightening himself and the whole Cabinet at Washington into such a state of timidity that, had they had their way, no war-vessel flying the American flag would have been allowed to leave any Atlantic seaport and put to sea.
Captain Hull had carried the “Constitution” into Boston, where, if the orders had reached him in time, the secretary would have peremptorily bidden him to remain. But Hull was not in a humor to be inactive. What he wanted was a fight, yard-arm to yard-arm, with a frigate of the enemy, preferably the “Guerriere,” Captain Richard Dacres, who had sailed boldly up and down the coast with an open challenge to any frigate flying the American flag. Though very warm personal friends ashore, both Hull and Dacres had high opinions of the merits of their own vessels. Dacres voiced the prevailing sentiment of the officers of his navy when he spoke of the “Constitution” as a bunch of pine boards which the British would knock to pieces in twenty minutes. Hull said little; but several months before war was declared had met Dacres, and wagered him a cocked hat on the result should the “Constitution” and the “Guerriere” ever meet. With the timidity at home, neither he nor any American officers had much encouragement. There was no confidence in the navy at this period, and the insults they heard from abroad were not half so hard to bear as the thinly-veiled indifference they met at home.
But Hull knew he had a good ship and a good crew. He had trained them himself, and he knew what they could do aloft and at the guns. Moreover, he knew what he could do himself. The navy was small, but the men who had smelt powder in the Revolution and before Tripoli were a stalwart set and had done deeds of gallantry that had set the greatest admirals of Europe by the ears. Many ingenious contrivances had been adopted, to be now tried for the first time. Sights had been put upon the guns, and the gun-captains knew better how to shoot than ever before. So, without waiting for the orders from the secretary which he knew would hold him in port indefinitely, Hull sailed on the first fair wind and uncompromisingly put out to sea. If the orders came, he wouldn’t be back to obey unless he had captured a British frigate, or, at the very least, some merchant prizes. If he did not succeed, it meant that he might be hung or shot for sailing without orders. But even this sword of Damocles did not deter him. He would do his best, at any rate, and made a quiet seaman’s petition to the God of winds and seas to send him the “Guerriere.”
Thinking to find a better opportunity towards Halifax, where many British men-of-war and merchantmen put in, Hull sailed to the northward, and cruised as far as the mouth of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The frigate “Spartan,” 38, was in those waters; but after watching for her for some days, he stood out to sea. On the 15th of August he sighted five vessels. The “Constitution” set all sail and rapidly came up with them. Four of them scattered, leaving the fifth, a brig, on fire. Hull made for the largest of the others, and found her to be an English merchantman in charge of an American prize-crew. The “Constitution” saved her from capture at the hands of the other vessels. Before night another vessel was overhauled, and she was found to be the American “Adeline,” in the hands of a prize-crew from the British “Avenger.” One vessel was destroyed and the other was sent to Boston in charge of Midshipman Madison and five men, carrying the first suggestion of the brilliant news which was to follow.
A few days later the “Constitution” chased and overhauled the American privateer “Decatur,” which, believing her to be an English cruiser, had thrown overboard almost all of her guns. The captain of the privateer had good news, though. He had sighted an English frigate the day before, sailing southward under easy sail. Hull immediately set everything the “Constitution” could carry and gave the quartermasters a course which should enable him to come up with her by the following day.
The next morning dawned clear, but the breezes fell light, and not until the morning watch was there wind enough to send the American frigate bowling along on her course under top-gallant-sails and royals. Hull took the deck for awhile himself and sent lookouts to the fore- and main-royal-yards to keep a sharp lookout. With moderate luck they should catch up with her. And then Hull felt that he would make the “Constitution” the most talked about ship afloat or else he would change the timidity at the Navy Department into a panic for which there would be some reason.
If the ship were the “Guerriere,” he promised himself a new hat.
Not a sail hove in sight until towards two in the afternoon, when a lookout aloft shouted, in a voice that was taken up by four hundred throats on the spar- and gun-decks,—
“Sail ho!”
In a moment the watch below came rushing up. So great was the excitement that many of them went half-way to the tops, without orders or permission, to view the stranger. In an hour the stronger glasses proved her plainly to be a frigate, and the “Constitution” eased off her sheets, and with the bit in her teeth boomed steadily down for her. For an hour the two ships moved in this position, the stranger making no effort to escape and leaving her colors, which were soon made out to be British, flying in defiance. In fact, as soon as she discovered the “Constitution” to be an American frigate she took in sail, laid her maintop-sail to the mast, and silently awaited the approach. Hull sailed on until within about three miles of the enemy, when he sent his light yards down, reefed his topsails, and cleared ship for action.
An American-built frigate was for the first time to test her stanchness against a worthy representative of the mistress of the seas and “Terror of the World.” Most of the crew had never been in close action before. The chase of the “Constitution” had tired their hearts less than their bodies, for the firing of the British squadron had been at a very long range, and there was never a time when their ship was in danger from the cannonading of the enemy. There was not a qualm or a fear to be seen on the faces either of grizzled seaman or powder-boy, and they went to quarters with enthusiasm.
But underlying it all there was a note of gravity. They were going to bring an American ship into action with a frigate whose navy had scored hundreds of victories over the vessels of all the great nations of the earth. They half wondered at their audacity and that of their captain in defying a frigate so redoubtable as the “Guerriere,” for there seemed no further doubt that it was she. But they looked up at Hull, who was calmly pacing up and down the quarter-deck, taking a look now and then at the enemy through his glass, and their confidence came back to them. The excitement was intense, and one by one the men began throwing aside their shirts and drawing in the buckles of their cutlass-hangers, most of the gun-crews stripping themselves to the waist and casting aside their shoes to avoid slipping on the decks when the blood began to flow. More than one of them had his own private score to settle with the British navy. Many of them had been at one time or another taken off American merchant-ships and impressed into the service of the enemy, and some of them still bore upon their backs the scars of the bloody lashes of the relentless “Cat.” The father of Captain Hull had died in the pest-ship “Jersey,” in the Revolution, and the other officers had all some grievances of their own which made them look eagerly forward to the battle which they intended should mean victory or death.
On the “Guerriere” there was a feeling of unshaken confidence. That any calamity to their ship could be expected from an American-built vessel, manned by a crew collected haphazard among the merchant-ships of the Atlantic harbors, never for a moment occurred to them. When the drum beat to quarters, the men tumbled to their stations willingly enough, with no more trepidation than if they were going to target-practice. Captain Dacres summoned an American prisoner, the captain of the captured merchant-brig “Betsy,” and asked him what he thought of the vessel which was approaching. The skipper ventured that she was undoubtedly an American frigate. Captain Dacres replied with a smile,—
“She comes down a shade too boldly for an American.” And then added, “Well, the better he behaves the more honor we will have in taking him.”
As the “Constitution” bore down nearer, her ensign and jack flying proudly, there could no longer be any doubt as to her nationality and intentions, and he shouted to his crew, who stood at the guns,—
“There, my men, is a Yankee frigate. In forty-five minutes she is certainly ours. Take her in fifteen, and I promise you four months’ pay.”
Shortly after this Captain Hull was within two or three miles, and the “Guerriere” opened fire on the “Constitution,” to try the distance and get the range.
The shots fell short, but Hull took in his light sails and came down more warily under topsails. The “Constitution” fired a broadside, but these shots, too, dropped in the water between them. As he came nearer, the “Guerriere” squared away, wearing first to port and then to starboard, firing alternate broadsides and manœuvring to avoid being raked. He wanted to cripple the American’s rigging from a distance, if possible. But the shot all missed their mark, and the “Constitution” only replied with her bow-guns. Hull soon saw that this manœuvring might last the day out without coming to close quarters, so he hoisted his top-gallant-sails and made straight for the enemy.
Now the shot of the Englishman began coming aboard. Some of the standing rigging was cut away and the vessel was hulled several times. But the men, having carefully reloaded, stood silently at their guns, looking out through the ports at the “Guerriere,” which, enveloped in smoke, kept up a continuous fire. They looked anxiously at the short, stout, sturdy figure of Captain Hull, but he continued pacing the quarter-deck, making no sign that he was aware of the damage the shots were causing. In a moment the report of “Nobody hurt yet, sir,” ceased suddenly. A shot struck the “Constitution’s” starboard bulwarks up forward and sent a jagged hail of splinters among the crew of two of the guns of the first division. Two men were killed outright and one or two more were wounded by this shot, and as their shipmates saw the men carried below to the cockpit they moved uneasily, and several of the gun-captains wished to fire. Lieutenant Morris now, with a view to quieting them, strode aft to the quarter-deck, where Hull was still calmly pacing up and down, and said,—
“The enemy has killed two of our men. Shall we return it?”
“Not yet, sir,” replied the impenetrable Hull.
Morris returned to his station. But there is nothing more disorganizing to men than to be fired at and not have the opportunity of firing in return, and they besought Morris again to give the permission. Twice more the lieutenant went aft to the quarter-deck, and twice he got the same reply. Hull, like Paul Jones, believed in great broadsides at close quarters. This silence under galling fire was the greatest test of discipline an American crew had ever had. For in the heat of battle a man forgets to be afraid. That the men stood to it, speaks well for Hull’s training.
At last the “Constitution,” which had been drawing closer and closer, drew up to a position about forty yards off the “Guerriere’s” port-quarter, and Hull, waiting until his guns could all bear, stooped low, bursting his breeches from knee to waistband in the excitement of the moment, and gave vent to all the pent-up feelings of two hours in the hoarse order,—
“Now, boys, give it to them!”
It was a well-directed broadside.
The shots crashed along the line of bulwarks and sent showers of splinters flying over her spar-deck. The ships were so close together that the effect of those shots could be seen distinctly. Some of the splinters flew as high as the mizzen-top, and instantly the English cheering ceased and the shrieks and cries of the wounded rang out between the concussions. Dacres now, for the first time, must have realized how great the honor would be if he took the “Constitution.”
Nor did the action promise any sign of being over in fifteen minutes. So well aimed were the American guns that in a short time the enemy’s main-yard was shot away, and he was otherwise damaged severely both below and aloft. At a little after six a twenty-four pound shot went through the “Guerriere’s” mizzen-mast, and, swaying a moment, over it fell to starboard, making a wreck and drag which impeded the Englishman’s manœuvres. The seas pounded it against the sides of the ship and a hole was knocked under her stern, through which she began taking water badly. When the mizzen-mast fell, Hull threw off his hat, and shouted,—
“Hurrah, boys, we’ve made a brig of her!”
IN THE TOPS OF THE “CONSTITUTION”
One of the seamen shouted back,—
“We’ll make a sloop of her soon, sir!”
And they did; for in a little while the foremast followed by the board. The wreck trailing in the water astern acted as a rudder to the “Guerriere,” and she swung across the wind. The “Constitution” forged ahead, and crossing her bows, poured in a raking broadside. Then swinging round to port, she sent in another as effective as the first. The ships were very close together, and a fire from a burning gun-wad broke out in the cabin of the American ship. This was quickly put out, however, by Lieutenant Hoffman of the after-gun division.
Both captains now decided to board, and the men were massed on the decks as they could be spared from the guns for the purpose. Dacres was on the point of sending his men across his bowsprit, but, finding the jackies of the “Constitution” ready to receive him, changed his mind. The sharpshooters in the tops of both vessels were firing into the black masses of men, and every shot told. Lieutenant Morris, on the “Constitution,” while attempting to take a few turns of rope around the bowsprit of the “Guerriere,” received a bullet through the body. William S. Bush, the first lieutenant of marines, while standing on the taffrail ready to board, was shot through the skull by a British marine, and instantly killed. John C. Alwyn, the sailing-master, at the same time received a ball through the shoulder. Captain Hull climbed up on the rail, when a Yankee seaman, putting his arms around him, dragged him down and out of danger.
“Not with them swabs on,” he said, pointing to Hull’s big bullion epaulettes. He would have been a certain mark for one of the sharpshooters of the enemy.
At about this time the flag of the “Constitution,” which had been nailed at the mizzen-truck, was shot down. But a young topman, named Hogan, shinned up the spar far aloft, and, though fired at repeatedly by the British marines, succeeded in replacing it amid the cheers of his companions.
On the “Guerriere” things were going badly. Captain Dacres had been shot in the back by one of the American marines, but he pluckily remained on deck. As the “Constitution” got clear again, both the mainmast and foremast of the “Guerriere,” which had been repeatedly cut by American shot, went over with a crash, and she lay on the wave completely helpless. This was less than half an hour after the “Constitution” sent in her terrible broadside.
The American ship drew off to a short distance to repair her damages, and in less than an hour returned, and sent Lieutenant Read in a cutter to discover if Captain Dacres had surrendered.
Dacres’s humiliation was complete, and he felt that further battle would only be the butchery of his own brave fellows.
Lieutenant Read hailed him to learn if he had surrendered.
“I don’t know that it would be prudent to continue the engagement any longer.”
“Do I understand you to say that you have struck?” asked Read.
“Not precisely; but I don’t know that it would be worth while to fight any longer.”
“If you cannot decide,” said the American, “I will return aboard my ship and resume the engagement.”
Dacres here called out hurriedly,—
“I am pretty much hors de combat already. I have hardly men enough to work a single gun and my ship is in a sinking condition.”
“I wish to know, sir,” demanded Read peremptorily, “whether I am to consider you as a prisoner of war or as an enemy. I have no time for further parley.”
Dacres paused, and then said, brokenly, “I believe now there is no alternative. If I could fight longer I would with pleasure, but I—I must surrender.”
When Dacres went up the side of the “Constitution” to surrender his sword he was treated in the manner befitting his rank by a generous enemy. Captain Hull assisted him to the deck, saying, anxiously,—
“Dacres, give me your hand; I know you are hurt.” And when the Englishman extended his sword, hilt forward, in formal surrender, Hull said, magnanimously,—
“No, no; I will not have the sword of a man who knows so well how to use it. But”—and his eyes twinkled merrily—“but I’ll thank you for that hat.” He had not forgotten the wager, if Dacres had.
The transferring of prisoners was at once begun, for it was seen that the “Guerriere” was a hopeless hulk, not fit to take to port. When this was all completed and every article of value taken from her, she was blown up, and the “Constitution” sailed for Boston.
She arrived at an opportune time. For Detroit had been surrendered without firing a shot in its defence, and the American arms on the Canadian frontier had otherwise met with disastrous failure. The “Constitution,” gaily dressed in flags, came up the harbor amid the booming of cannon and the wildest of excitement among the people. A banquet was given to the officers in Faneuil Hall, and from that time the American navy gained a prestige at home it has never since lost. Congress voted a gold medal to Captain Hull, silver ones to the officers, and fifty thousand dollars as a bonus to the crew.
The statistics of the fight are as follows:
The “Constitution” had fifty-five guns, the “Guerriere” forty-nine, sending shot weighing approximately seven hundred and six hundred pounds respectively. The “Constitution’s” crew numbered four hundred and sixty-eight; that of the “Guerriere” two hundred and sixty-three. The “Constitution” lost seven killed and seven wounded, and the “Guerriere” fifteen killed and sixty-three wounded. All authorities acknowledge that, other things being equal, the discrepancy in metal and crews hardly explains the difference in the condition of the vessels at the end of the battle.
THE “WASP” AND THE “FROLIC”
The American frigates “Constitution,” “Constellation,” and “United States” fought and won great battles where the metal and crews were equal or nearly equal, and proved beyond a doubt the advantage of American seamanship and gunnery over the British in the Naval War of 1812. But it remained for the little sloop-of-war “Wasp,” Captain Jacob Jones, to add the final evidence of Yankee superiority. Her action with the “Frolic” was fought under conditions so trying that it fairly ranks with the great frigate actions of our naval history.
The “Wasp” was only about one-sixth the size of the “Constitution.” She was about as big as the three-masted schooners which ply in and out of our Atlantic seaports to-day, and only carried one hundred and forty men. What she lacked in size she made up in personnel, and what she lacked in ordnance she made up in precision of fire. They must have been fine Jack tars and gallant fellows every one of them, for there was no chance for skulkers in that fight. The vessel could not have been handled or the guns served as they were with one man less.
It was off Albemarle Sound, in the rough end of a Hatteras gale, with a gun-platform which now rolled the gun-muzzles into the spume and then sent them skyward half-way to the zenith. It is a wonder that the gunners could hit anything at all; but almost every broadside told, and the hull of the “Frolic” was again and again riddled and raked fore and aft.
When the war broke out the “Wasp” was in European waters, carrying despatches for the government. She was immediately recalled, and in October, 1812, sailed from the Delaware to the southward and eastward to get in the track of the British merchantmen in the West India trade. On the 15th of October she ran into a gale of wind off the capes of the Chesapeake, and lost her jib-boom and two men who were working on it at the time. For two days and nights the little vessel tumbled about under storm-sails, but Captain Jacob Jones was one of the best seamen in the navy, and no further harm was done. On the night of the 17th the wind moderated somewhat, though the seas still ran high. At about half-past eleven a number of frigates were seen, and Captain Jones deeming it imprudent to bear down nearer until day should show him who the strangers were, sailed up to get the weather-gage and await the dawn. His forward rigging was disabled, and he had no wish to take chances with an enemy of greatly superior force.
The dawn came up clear and cold, and, as the darkness lifted, the crew of the “Wasp” could make out six fine merchantmen under convoy of a big brig. The brig was about the same size as the “Wasp,” and it was seen that several of the merchantmen mounted from eleven to eighteen guns each. Nevertheless, Jones sent his topmen aloft, and in a trice he had his light yards on deck and his ship reefed down to fighting-canvas. The vessel was rolling her bows half under, but the guns were cast loose and the decks cleared for action. The brig, too, showed signs of animation. Her men went aloft at about the same time as those of the “Wasp,” and soon she signalled her convoy to make all sail before the wind to escape.
The sea was so high that it was eleven o’clock before the vessels came within range of each other. Then on the English vessel the Spanish flag was run up to the gaff. But the Americans nevertheless held on a course which would soon bring the ships together. There were enough Englishmen in those waters for Jones to take chances of her being one of the enemy. By half-past eleven the ships were within speaking-distance,—two or three hundred feet apart,—and Captain Jones mounted the mizzen-rigging, lifting his voice so that it might be heard above the shrieking of the wind and sea, and shouted through his trumpet,—
“What ship is that?”
For answer the Spanish flag came down with a run, the British ensign was hoisted, and a broadside was fired. Just then a squall keeled the Englishman over to leeward, and the “Wasp” having the weather-gage, the shots whistled harmlessly overhead and through the rigging. The Yankee ship responded immediately. The gunners had been trained in all weathers to fire as their own vessel was about to roll downward on the wave towards their adversary. By this means the shots were more sure to go low in the enemy’s hull and to have the additional chance of the ricochet which would strike a glancing blow. They waited a second or so for this opportunity, and then sent their broadside of nine shots crashing through the hull of the “Frolic.”
The tumbling of the vessel sent the guns rolling about, and the tacklemen needed all their strength and skill to hold the guns in for serving and out for firing. But they were in no hurry. They worked as slowly and as surely as possible, taking every advantage of the roll of the vessel, training and aiming deliberately, and then firing at will. The Englishmen sent in three broadsides to two of the Yankees. But they fired from the hollow on the upward roll of the vessel and most of their shots went high, scarcely one of them striking the hull of the “Wasp.”
It is a wonderful thing to think even of these two little vessels, tossed about like billets of wood, the playthings of the elements, fighting a battle to the death with each other, ignoring the roaring of the sea and the hissing of the water which now and again seemed to completely engulf them in its foam. The waves came over the bows and waist of the “Wasp,” flooding the decks, overturning buckets and making division-tubs a superfluity. Sometimes it dashed in at the leeward ports, dipping the handles of the sponges and rammers, and even burying the muzzles of the guns, which the next moment would be pointing at the main-truck of their adversary. The powder-boys, wet to the waist, stumbled over the decks with their powder-charges under their jackets, and, though buffeted about and knocked down repeatedly, kept the men at the guns plentifully supplied with ammunition.
Although the British were firing rapidly and the shots were flying high, they began doing great damage in the rigging of the American. A few minutes after the battle was begun a shot from the “Frolic” struck the maintop-mast of the “Wasp” just above the cap, and it fell forward across the fore-braces, rendering the head-yards unmanageable for the rest of the action. A few minutes later other shots struck the mizzen-top-gallant-mast and the gaff, and soon almost every brace was shot away. The “Frolic” had been hulled repeatedly, but aloft had only lost her gaff and head-braces. In a quiet sea it would have been bad enough to lose the use of the sails, but in a gale of wind manœuvring became practically impossible. The wind was blowing fiercely so both vessels drove on before it, keeping up the cannonading whenever a gun would bear, and pouring in from the tops a fire of musketry upon the officers and men upon the decks.
The “Wasp,” having squared forward by the dropping of her maintop-mast across the fore-braces, no longer sailed on the wind, and in a moment drew forward, gradually approaching across the bows of the “Frolic,” which, having lost the use of her head-sails, could not sheer off. Captain Jones was quick to see his advantage, and ran the enemy’s bowsprit between the main- and mizzen-masts of the “Wasp.” The vessels now began striking and grinding against each other furiously, as though by a test of the stanchness of their timbers to settle the battle between them. The men who were loading two of the port broadside guns of the “Wasp” struck the bow of the “Frolic” with their rammers and found themselves looking into the forward ports of the enemy. The guns were loaded with grape, and after the ships crashed together were fired directly through those forward ports of the “Frolic,” raking her from stem to stern in a frightful manner.
The next wave tore the ships apart, and the “Wasp” forged ahead, the bowsprit of the Englishman catching in the mizzen-shrouds, where Lieutenant James Biddle and a party of officers and seamen were awaiting the order to board. In this position the bowsprit of the “Frolic” was pounding terribly upon the poop of the “Wasp.” At every send of the waves the bows of the Englishman would fall as the stern of the American rose, and it seemed as though both ships would be torn to pieces. The men of the “Wasp” had wished to board, the moment the ships had come together, and crowded along the hammock-nettings hardly to be restrained. But Captain Jones, knowing the advantage of his raking position, wanted to send in another broadside. He called the men back to the guns, but they were too intent upon their object. One brawny fellow, named Jack Lang, who had been impressed into the British service, made a spring, and catching a piece of gear, swung himself up on the bowsprit and clambered down alone, his cutlass in his teeth, to the enemy’s deck. The “Wasp’s” men cheered vigorously, and, leaving their guns, rushed aft to follow him. Captain Jones, seeing that they would not be denied, then gave the order to Lieutenant Biddle to board.
Biddle, cutlass in hand, jumped upon the nettings to lead the men. Midshipman Yorick Baker, being too small to clamber up alone, and seeing Biddle’s coat-tails flapping in the wind, seized hold of them, one in each hand. He did not want to be left behind, and thought he might trust to the impetuosity of his superior officer to land him successfully among the first on the deck of the enemy. But just then a terrific lurch threw Biddle off his balance, and they both came violently to the deck. They were up again in a second, however, and with Lieutenant George W. Rogers and a party of seamen finally reached the bowsprit of the “Frolic.”
Upon the fo’c’s’le of the enemy stood Jack Lang, swinging to the motion of the brig, his cutlass at his side, looking aft at a scene of carnage that was hardly imaginable. All the fierceness had died out of him, for he looked around at Biddle and grinned broadly. The decks were covered with the dead and dying, who tossed about in the wash of bloody water with every heave of the ship. The decks, masts, bulwarks, and rails were torn to ribbons, huge jagged splinters projecting everywhere. Guns, tubs, sponges, rammers, and solid shot were adrift, pounding from one side of the wreck to the other. No one moved to secure them, for only half a dozen men stood upright. At the wheel an old quartermaster, badly wounded, swung grimly, ready to die at his post. Behind him an English lieutenant, bleeding from ghastly wounds, clutched at a stanchion for support. Two other officers stood near, and one or two jackies glared forward at the Americans. There was no sign of resistance, and the wave of pity which came over Biddle and his officers swept away all desire for battle. The British flag was still flying. No one seemed to have the strength to haul it down; so Biddle went aft and lowered it to the deck. In a few moments the masts fell, and she lay a useless hulk wallowing upon the waves, which, more sure of their prey, dashed against her torn sides, widening the gashes made by her indomitable enemy, and at times making clean breaches over her bulwarks, tearing loose her boats and otherwise completing her destruction.
Under the conditions, it seemed hardly credible that such injury could have been inflicted in so short a time, for the battle had lasted only forty-three minutes. The “Frolic” had twenty-two guns, while the “Wasp” had only eighteen. The crew of the “Frolic” was less than of the “Wasp,” the best authorities estimating it at one hundred and ten, against one hundred and thirty-eight of the “Wasp.” But even here the great loss and damage to the “Frolic” can be explained in no way save that the Americans were superior gunners and seamen. The “Wasp” lost five killed and five wounded, and these men were most of them shot while aloft trying to refit gear. The “Frolic” lost fifteen killed and forty-seven wounded, making a total of sixty-two against ten of the “Wasp.”
But Jacob Jones’s victory was not to prove profitable, save in the great moral influence it exercised in England and America. He placed a crew upon the prize, and, having cleared away his wreck and refitted his rigging, tried to make sail away after the fleet of merchantmen, which by this time were nearly hull down on the horizon. But a great British seventy-four, the “Poictiers,” hove in sight, and before Jones could get away he found himself under her guns a prisoner. Captain Beresford, of the line-of-battle ship, took the sloop-of-war to Bermuda, and there a garbled report of the action between Captain Whinyate’s and Captain Jones’s vessels was written. But the American captain and his gallant crew were soon exchanged, and returned home, where their victory had been given its true value. They received twenty-five thousand dollars from Congress as prize-money, and a gold medal was given to Captain Jones and a silver one to each of the officers. The legislature of Pennsylvania gave Lieutenant Biddle a sword for his gallantry.
THE “CONSTITUTION” AND THE “JAVA”
At the beginning of the war of 1812 there were but three first-class frigates in our navy, and but five vessels of any description were fit to go to sea. But the war with Tripoli and the gallant deeds of the American officers had made the service popular with the public. In March, 1812, an act was passed which appropriated money to put all these vessels in condition to meet the enemy on a more equal footing, and a naval committee was formed to deal with the emergency. Langdon Cheves was appointed chairman, and he took hold of the great task of rebuilding and regenerating the naval service with enthusiasm and good judgment. The result was that the committee expressed the opinion “that it was the true policy of the United States to build up a navy establishment, as the cheapest, the safest, and the best protection to their sea-coast and to their commerce, and that such an establishment was inseparably connected with the future prosperity, safety, and glory of the country.”
When war was declared, the “Constitution” was in good condition, but the “Chesapeake” and the “Constellation” were not seaworthy. These were recommended to be immediately put in condition, and ten other frigates, averaging thirty-eight guns each, to be built. There was no difficulty in raising the crews for these vessels. Owing to the impressment of American and other seamen into the British service, the Cross of St. George had come to be so hated by the fishermen, coastwise sailors, and merchantmen that they sailed, drove, or walked to Philadelphia, Baltimore, and the other places where the frigates were fitting out, eager to sign the articles which made them American men-o’war’s-men. They were not drafted into the service like many of the British Jackies, at the point of the pistol, but came because they wanted to, and because with the building up of a new navy there came a chance to see the flag they hated trailed in defeat. That and nothing else was the reason for the wonderful success of American arms upon the sea during the war of 1812. The American officers, smarting under past indignities to the service and to themselves, went into the many actions with determination and enthusiasm, combined with the experience of a rough-and-tumble sea,—experience which with anything like an equal force meant either victory or absolute destruction.
The “Constitution,” under Hull, had escaped from the British squadron, under Broke, off the Jersey coast, had defeated the frigate “Guerriere,” and in all her history had shown herself to be a lucky ship. William Bainbridge had been given the command of the “Constellation,” but, arriving at Boston, Hull had found it necessary to give up his command, and Bainbridge immediately applied for “Old Ironsides.”
The victories of the American frigates “Constitution” and “United States” over the British “Guerriere” and “Macedonian” had aroused great enthusiasm throughout the country, and the government had decided to change its timorous policy. Hoping to draw some of the British vessels away from the coast and cause them to be distributed over a wider horizon, expeditions were arranged to strike the enemy at many distant points. Bainbridge’s orders were to sail for the Indian Ocean and capture or destroy as many English merchant-vessels as possible. His squadron, besides the “Constitution,” 44, consisted of the “Essex,” 32, Captain David Porter, and the “Hornet,” 18, Master-Commandant James Lawrence. Bainbridge and Lawrence put to sea from Boston on the 26th of October, while Porter left the Delaware on the 24th to rendezvous at Porto Praya, on the South American coast.
A few days later, H. M. S. “Java,” a thirty-eight-gun frigate, Captain Henry Lambert, having two merchant-ships under convoy, sailed from Portsmouth, England, for India. She also had as passengers the newly-appointed governor of India, Lieutenant-General Thomas Hislop, and many naval and army officers, who were being carried out to their posts.
The “Constitution,” arriving at Porto Praya, and failing to find Porter in the “Essex,” put to sea again, stopping at Fernando de Noronha in the hope of meeting her there. Lawrence, in the “Hornet,” challenged the British sloop-of-war “Bonne Citoyenne” to single combat; but her commander declined, in view of the presence of the “Constitution.” Bainbridge wrote that he would not interfere, and pledged him his honor to give the Englishman the opportunity to fight the “Hornet” to the death. Hoping to bring the action about, Bainbridge sailed away, and remained four days. But the British captain was determined not to fight, and Lawrence was thus denied the opportunity he afterwards had with the ill-fated “Chesapeake.”
Near the end of December, 1812, the “Constitution” was cruising off the coast of Brazil, about thirty miles from Bahia. The wind was light from the northeast, and Bainbridge was moving under short sail. “Old Ironsides,” a ready sailer when in condition, had been off the stocks so long and was so befouled by her stay in tropical waters that she moved rather sluggishly, and had not the capacity for legging it that she had when Hull had carried her from under the guns of the British squadron. Her sails were patched and her rigging was old, but Bainbridge had done all he could with her, and his men were full of confidence. She was the “Constitution,” and that was enough for them. They only wanted an opportunity to repeat or surpass some of her previous exploits.
They had not long to wait. At nine o’clock on the morning of December 29, the man at the fore-crosstrees passed the cry of “Sail-ho,” and soon from the deck two sails could be seen to the north, near the coast. They were both made out to be full-rigged ships, one standing in cautiously for the land and the other keeping a course out to sea, pushing down gallantly under a full press of canvas. The one inshore was the American ship “William,” which had been captured by the British, and the other was the “Java.” The jackies who lined the nettings of the “Constitution” soon discovered that their wishes were to be granted, for the larger ship was evidently determined to come up, and could be nothing but a man-of-war looking for a fight.
By about eleven Captain Bainbridge took in his royals and went about on the other tack. The Englishman was coming nearer now, and hoisted the private signals, English, Spanish, and Portuguese, in succession. Bainbridge hoisted the private signal of the day, and finding that it was not answered, cleared ship for action immediately. Then, wishing to draw his enemy from his consort, he set his mainsails and royals and stood out to sea. The “Java” came up rapidly, and made sail in a parallel course. Finding that the other ship did not follow, and desiring to make the other vessel disclose her identity, Bainbridge showed his colors,—his broad pennant at the main, the Stars and Stripes at the peak, another at the maintop-gallant-mast, and the American jack at the fore. This was shortly followed by his adversary, who hoisted an English ensign and displayed a private signal.
All this time the “Java” was rapidly gaining on the “Constitution,” and Bainbridge, finding that he was outsailed, took in his royals and went about on the other tack, so as to pass within pistol-shot of the other.
The “Constitution,” still a mile to leeward, soon fired a shot across the “Java’s” bows to induce her to show her colors, which she had hauled down again. This had the desired effect, for the bits of bunting went up with a run, and a whole broadside was fired at the “Constitution.” But the range was too great for successful marksmanship, both these shots and those fired by the “Constitution” in return dropping harmlessly alongside.
By a little after two o’clock the frigates were within half a mile of each other, and the action then began with great spirit. The Englishman got the range first, and sent in a broadside which hulled the “Constitution” and killed and wounded several of her men. It soon became evident to Bainbridge that Captain Lambert’s guns carried better than his own, so began luffing up repeatedly in order to shorten the distance for an effective broadside. He was sure of his marksmanship if once his men got the range, for the same gun-captains were with him that had helped Hull to her great victory over the “Guerriere.” It was difficult to draw up, as the Englishman was forging ahead with the evident desire to sail close to the wind and keep the weather-gage at all hazards. The “Constitution” could only luff up at opportune moments, for Lambert’s position was one which would enable him to rake the “Constitution” from stem to stern if he luffed when the broadside was ready. But he edged up cautiously, and soon the vessels were but musket-shot apart. A continuous fire now began, and the wind being light, both vessels were soon so shrouded in smoke that only at intervals could the gunners make out their adversaries. Along they sailed, side by side, giving and receiving tremendous volleys. About this time a solid shot went crashing along the quarter-deck of the “Constitution” and, striking her wheel, smashed it to pieces. The gear had been rove below, however, and the ship throughout the remainder of the battle was steered by means of tackles on the berth-deck. The captain’s orders were shouted down through the after-hatch and repeated by a line of midshipmen to the men at the tackles.
Bainbridge, in full uniform, stood by the weather-rigging at the time the disabling shot came aboard, and a small copper bolt drove through the upper part of his leg, inflicting a bad wound. But fearing that if he left the deck his men might lose some of the ardor with which they were fighting, he would not go below though frequently urged so to do. Instead of this he bound it up with his handkerchief, and remained at his post, his epaulettes a fair mark for the sharpshooters in the tops of the enemy. His men down in the waist of the “Constitution” looked now and again at the imposing figure by the mizzen-mast, and bent to their work with a will, firing as rapidly as their guns could be loaded. The distance between the ships was now so short that all the smaller guns and carronades could be used, and a rapid and well-directed fire was kept up both upon the hull and the spars of their adversary.
The “Java,” by her superior sailing qualities, was enabled to reach well forward on the “Constitution’s” bow when she eased off her sheets to round down across the bows of the American and rake. But Bainbridge, in spite of the disadvantage of wrecked steering-gear, was too quick for her. He put his helm up, and wore around in the smoke, thus keeping his broadside presented. The Englishman at last succeeded in getting under the “Constitution’s” stern and pouring in a broadside at close range. But, fortunately, comparatively little damage was done. The superiority of the gunnery of the Americans, save for a few of the Englishman’s well-directed shots, had been from the first far superior to that of the Englishmen. The fire of the “Java” was far less rapid and less careful than that of the “Constitution.” Had the gunnery been equal, the story of the fight would have had a different ending.
But the Americans labored under a great disadvantage, and Captain Bainbridge, determined to close with the enemy at all hazards, put his helm down and headed directly for the enemy, thus exposing himself to a fore-and-aft fire, which might have been deadly. But for some reason the Englishman failed to avail himself of this opportunity, only one 9-pounder being discharged. When near enough, the “Constitution” rounded to alongside and delivered her entire starboard broadside, which crashed through the timbers of the “Java” and sent the splinters flying along the entire length of her bulwarks. The shrieks of the injured could be plainly heard in the lulls in the firing, and soon the bowsprit and jib-boom of the enemy were hanging down forward, where they lay, with the gear of the head-sails and booms in a terrible tangle. With this misfortune the “Java” lost her superiority in sailing, and this was the turn in the action. Quickly availing himself of this advantage, Bainbridge again wore in the smoke before Captain Lambert could discover his intentions, and, getting under the “Java’s” stern, poured in a rapid broadside, which swept the decks from one end to the other, killing and wounding a score of men. Then sailing around, he reloaded, and fired another broadside from a diagonal position, which carried away the “Java’s” foremast and otherwise wrecked her.
Captain Lambert, now finding his situation becoming desperate, determined to close with the “Constitution” and board her. He tried to bear down on her, but the loss of his head-yards and the wreck on his forecastle made his vessel unwieldy, and only the stump of his bowsprit fouled the mizzen-chains of the American vessel. The American topmen and marines during this time were pouring a terrific fire of musketry into the mass of men who had gathered forward on the English vessel. An American marine, noting the epaulettes of Captain Lambert, took deliberate aim, and shot him through the breast. Lambert fell to the deck, and Lieutenant Chads assumed the command. The Englishmen, disheartened by the loss of their captain, still fought pluckily, though the wreck of the gear forward and the loss of their maintop-mast seriously impeded the handling of the guns. At each discharge their sails and gear caught fire, and at one time the “Java’s” engaged broadside seemed a sheet of flame. At about four o’clock her mizzen-mast, the last remaining spar aloft, came down, and she swung on the waves entirely dismasted. It seemed impossible to continue the action, as but half a dozen guns could be brought to bear.
The “Constitution,” finding the enemy almost silenced and practically at her mercy, drew off to repair damages and re-reeve her gear. Bainbridge had great confidence in the look of the “Constitution,” as, to all outward appearances unharmed, she bore down again and placed herself in a position to send in another broadside. His surmise was correct, for the one flag which had remained aloft was hauled down before the firing could be resumed.
Lieutenant George Porter, of the “Constitution,” was immediately sent aboard the Englishman. As he reached the deck he found the conditions there even worse than had been imagined by those aboard the “Constitution.” Many of the broadside guns were overturned, and, though the wreck had been partially cleared away, the tangle of rigging was still such that the remaining guns were practically useless. The dead and wounded literally covered the decks, and as the lieutenant went aboard the dead were being dropped overboard. The loss of her masts made her roll heavily, and occasionally her broadside guns went under. Lambert was mortally wounded. Lieutenant Chads, too, was badly hurt. When he had assumed command, in spite of the fact that he knew his battle was hopeless, he had tried to refit to meet the American when she came down for the second time. He only struck his colors when he knew that further resistance meant murder for his own brave men. The “Java” was a mere hulk, and the hulk was a sieve.
Comparison of the injuries of the “Java” and “Constitution” is interesting. With the exception of her maintop-sail-yard, the “Constitution” came out of the fight with every yard crossed and every spar in position. The injuries to her hull were trifling. The “Java” had every stick, one after another, shot out of her until nothing was left but a few stumps. It might have been possible to have taken her into Bahia, but Bainbridge thought himself too far away from home; and so, after the prisoners and wounded had been removed to the “Constitution,” a fuse was laid, and the American got under weigh. Not long after a great volume of smoke went up into the air, and a terrific explosion was heard as the last of the “Java” sunk beneath the Southern Ocean.
When the “Constitution” arrived at Bahia, Captain Lambert was carried up on the quarter-deck, and lay near where Bainbridge, still suffering acutely from his wounds, had been brought. Bainbridge was supported by two of his officers as he came over to Lambert’s cot, for he was very weak from loss of blood. He carried in his hand the sword which the dying Englishman had been obliged to surrender to him. Bainbridge put it down beside him on his bed, saying,—
“The sword of so brave a man should never be taken from him.”
The two noble enemies grasped hands, and tears shone in the eyes of both. A few days afterwards the Englishman was put on shore, where more comfortable quarters were provided for him, but he failed rapidly, and died five days after.
The news of the capture of the “Java” created consternation in England. The loss of the “Guerriere” and the “Macedonian” were thought to have been ill-luck. But they now discovered an inkling of what they rightly learned before the war was over,—that the navy of the United States, small as it appeared, was a force which, man for man and gun for gun, could whip anything afloat.
When Bainbridge arrived in Boston he and his officers were met by a large delegation of citizens, and many festivities and dinners were held and given in their honor. The old “Constitution,” rightly deserving the attention of the government, was put in dry-dock to be thoroughly overhauled. Of the five hundred merchantmen captured by Americans, she had taken more than her share, and of the three frigates captured she had taken two.
THE LAST OF THE “ESSEX”
When Captain David Porter in the “Essex” failed to meet Captain Bainbridge in the “Constitution” off the Brazilian coast, and learned that the latter had captured the “Java” and returned to the United States, he was free to make his own plans and choose his own cruising-ground.
He captured an English vessel or so, but his ambition was to make a voyage which would result in the capture of as many vessels as could be manned from the “Essex.” He thought the matter over at length and then formulated a plan which few other men would have thought of. No large war-vessel of the American government had been in the South Pacific for some years, and now the English whalers and merchantmen pursued their trade unmolested, save by a few privateers which sailed haphazard in the waters along the coast. David Porter decided to round the Horn, thus cutting himself off from his nearest base of supplies, and live the best way he might off vessels captured from the enemy.
He knew that he could not hope for a hospitable reception at any port he visited, but if he could keep his magazine and store-rooms supplied, determined to capture or destroy every vessel flying the British flag in those waters.
He started on his long voyage at the end of January, 1813, during the Southern summer season, when the gales and hurricanes in that region are at their fiercest. He had not been at sea very long before the scurvy broke out on the ship, and it was only by the most rigorous discipline and cleanliness that the disease was kept under control. By the middle of February the “Essex” reached the Cape, and, the weather having been moderately free from squalls, they were congratulating themselves on avoiding the usual dangers of those waters when a storm came up which in a short time began to blow with hurricane force. Gale succeeded gale, followed by intervals of calm, but nothing terrifying occurred until towards the end of February, when a storm which exceeded all the others in its fierceness began to blow. They were near a barren country, and, even should they reach land, there was no possible chance of escaping the slow torture of death from hunger and thirst. Great gray waves, measuring hundreds of feet from crest to crest, swept them resistlessly on towards the menacing shore, which could be seen dimly through the driving spray frowning to leeward. Many of the waves broke clear over the little frigate, knocking in her ports, opening her timbers, battering her boats to pieces as they swung on the davits, and loosening her bowsprit and other spars so that they threatened at each movement to go by the board. The crew, weakened and disheartened by disease and the excess of labor, lost heart and considered the “Essex” a doomed ship. David Glascoe Farragut, then a midshipman aboard of her, afterwards wrote that never before had he seen good seamen so paralyzed by fear at the mere terrors of the sea. On the third day an enormous wave struck her fairly on the weather-bow and broadside, and she went over on her beam ends, burying her lee-bulwark in the foam. It looked for a moment as if she would never right herself. The ports on the gun-deck were all stove in and she seemed to be filling with water. The head-rails were swept away, and one of the cutters was lifted bodily from the davits and smashed against the wheel. The fellows there stood bravely at their posts, though thoroughly terrified at the position of the ship. The water poured down below, and the men on the gun-deck thought she was already plunging to the bottom. The grizzly boatswain, crazy with fear, cried out in his terror,—
“The ship’s broadside is stove in! We are sinking!”
That was the greatest of their dangers, though, and better days were in store for them. Early in March the “Essex” succeeded in reaching Mocha Island, and the men, starved on half and quarter rations, were sent ashore to hunt wild hogs and horses. These were shot in numbers and salted down for food. The crew soon regained their health and spirits, and Porter sailed away for Valparaiso, putting in there to refit his damaged rigging and spars.
And now began a cruise which is numbered among the most successful in the country’s history. Porter had been at sea but a few days when he overhauled a Peruvian privateer, the “Nereyda.” To his surprise, twenty-four American sailors were found prisoners aboard of her. When asked to explain, the Peruvian captain replied that as his country was an ally of Great Britain, and that as war was soon to be declared between Spain and America, he thought he would anticipate matters and be sure of his prizes. Porter, in forcible English, explained the Peruvian’s mistake, and, to make the matter more clear, threw all his guns and ammunition overboard, so that he might repent of his folly in a more diplomatic condition.
The Peruvian captain begrudgingly gave Porter a list of all the English vessels in those waters. The first one captured was the whaler “Barclay.” On the 29th of April the “Essex” took the “Montezuma,” with a cargo of fourteen hundred barrels of whale-oil. Later in the same day the “Georgiana” and the “Policy” were overhauled. These prizes, with their cargoes, in England were worth half a million dollars; but, better than money, they were plentifully supplied with ropes, spars, cordage, stores, and ammunition, of which Porter still stood badly in need.
Finding that the “Georgiana” was a fast sailer and pierced for eighteen guns, Porter decided to make use of her as a cruiser, and, fitting her up, placed Lieutenant Downes in command of her, with forty men for a crew. Then the “Essex” took the “Atlantic” and the “Greenwich.” With this very respectable squadron Porter sailed for the mainland, Lieutenant Downes in the “Georgiana” meanwhile capturing without great difficulty the “Catharine” and the “Rose.” A third vessel, the “Hector,” fought viciously, but was eventually secured after a stiff little battle.
Young Farragut had been made the prize-master of the “Barclay.” He was only twelve years old, but Captain Porter, who was very fond of him, was confident of his ability to bring the ship into port. The English captain had been persuaded to act as navigator; but once out of sight of the squadron he refused to sail for Valparaiso. He afterwards said it was merely to frighten the boy. But the boy did not frighten at all. Instead he called one of his best seamen to him and ordered sail made. Then he told the captain that if he did not go below and stay there he would have him thrown overboard. The Englishman retreated below precipitately, and Farragut brought the ship safely in, a first proof of the courage and skill he was to show in after-life. Few boys of twelve would have done it even in those days when midshipmen soon became men regardless of age.
The “Atlantic,” being reckoned the fastest vessel of her kind afloat in those waters, was now given to Downes, who had been promoted to master-commandant, and renamed the “Essex Junior.” She was given twenty guns and sixty men, and soon proved her worth. All of this time Porter had been self-supporting. Neither he nor his squadron had cost his government a penny in money, and the prizes he captured, including the “Charlton,” “Seringapatam,” “New Zealand,” and “Sir Andrew Hammond,” could not be reckoned much short of a million and a half of dollars, a tremendous sum in those days, when the pay of a captain of a naval vessel was only twelve hundred dollars,—less than the pay of a boatswain to-day.
But Porter grew tired of his easy victories over merchantmen and privateers. He had succeeded in frightening the ships of the British entirely from the ocean. His one ship, a small frigate, had complete control in the South Pacific, and the Admiralty wondered at the skill and ingenuity of a man who could manage his fleets so adroitly. They determined to capture him; and two smart ships, the “Phœbe” and the “Cherub,” were sent out for this purpose. Porter heard of their coming, and was willing enough to meet them if it were possible. He went to Nukahiva, in the Marquesas Islands, to put the “Essex” in thorough repair and give his men a rest. He remained there two months, sailing near the end of the year 1813 for Valparaiso, with the hope of their meeting the English cruisers.
The “Essex” had been there but a month when the “Essex Junior,” which was cruising in the offing in anticipation of the arrival of the British ships, signalled, “Two enemy’s ships in sight.” Half the crew of the “Essex” were ashore enjoying sailor-men’s liberty. Even if they all got aboard, it was fair to assume that they would be in no condition to fight should the Englishmen choose to violate the neutrality of the port by firing on them. Porter immediately fired a gun and hoisted the recall signal for all boats and men to return. The English captain, Hillyar, ran the “Phœbe” on the wind straight for the “Essex,” the “Cherub” following closely. But when they reached the anchorage, the “Essex” was ready for action and the crew were at their stations. The “Phœbe” went around under the quarter of the “Essex,” luffing up scarcely fifteen feet away. It was an exciting moment. Hillyar could see the men at their guns, and his ardor was perceptibly diminished. Had he given the order to fire then, he would have been raked fore and aft, and the tale of this last fight of the “Essex” might have had a different ending.
As it was, he jumped upon the nettings, and said, with distinguished politeness,—
“Captain Hillyar’s compliments to Captain Porter, and hopes he is well.”
Porter was well, but he was in no humor to bandy compliments.
“Very well, I thank you,” he replied; “but I hope you will not come too near, for fear some accident might take place which would be disagreeable to you.” And at a wave of his hand the kedge-anchors and grappling-irons were swung up to the yard-arms, ready to be dropped on the decks of the enemy. The men swarmed along the nettings, ready to jump aboard the Englishman as soon as she was close enough.
But Hillyar, not liking the looks of things, changed his tone considerably. He backed his yards hurriedly, and said in an excited manner,—
“I had no intention of getting aboard of you. I assure you that if I fall aboard it will be entirely accidental.”
“Well,” said Porter, “you have no business where you are. If you touch a rope-yarn of this ship I shall board instantly.”
Porter then hailed Downes on the “Essex Junior” and told him to be prepared to repel the enemy. The vessels were in a position to be almost at the mercy of the Americans. When the “Phœbe” ranged alongside, the crews could see each other through the ports, and laughed and made grimaces at one another. One young fellow in the “Essex,” who had come aboard drunk, stood at one of the guns, match in hand. He saw one of the English jackies grinning at him. He was primed for a fight, and yelled across,—