Capture of Eastport and Castine—Occupation of Territory in Maine—Destruction of the Frigate Adams—Bombardment of Stonington—Affairs at Wareham, Scituate, and Boothbay.
The close of the war in Europe had not only enabled the English to strengthen their land forces in America, but had also liberated many of their warships, and the result was felt all along our coast. The enemy's purpose to conquer territory which might be retained after the war, apparent enough before, was now definitely proclaimed.
In July, Sir Thomas Hardy, commander of the British fleet before New London, received orders to capture Moose Island, in Passamaquoddy Bay, and sailed thither with five ships of war and transports containing about fifteen hundred troops. The Americans had here a small fort, garrisoned by only fifty men, under Major Putnam, who made no resistance to the enemy, but surrendered at once, July 11th. Sir Thomas then took formal possession not only of the town of Eastport, which at that time contained about one thousand inhabitants, but of the whole island, and issued a proclamation in which he declared that all the islands in the bay-had been surrendered and were thenceforth British territory. He gave the inhabitants one week in which to make their choice, either to swear allegiance to the British Crown or move away. About two thirds of the people took the oath, supposing they would thereby be admitted to the privileges of British citizenship; but a month later the Provincial Council of New Brunswick ordered that they should be treated as a conquered province and placed under martial law. The fortifications of Eastport were greatly strengthened, the six guns being increased to sixty, and a large garrison placed there. But provisions were extremely scarce, the men deserted in great numbers, and the British officers were often seen on the ramparts, doing duty as sentinels.
On the 1st of September, another British force entered Penobscot River. The small American garrison at Castine blew up the fort and retreated, and the enemy took possession, and soon issued a proclamation declaring all that part of Maine east of the Penobscot to be conquered territory. It contained about forty villages, with an aggregate of more than thirty thousand inhabitants.
Captain Morris, after a successful cruise, had re cently arrived in the Penobscot with the American frigate Adams, and taken her to Hampden, thirty-five miles up the river, for repairs. The British commander sent up an expedition of about a thousand men to capture her, and Captain Morris made all possible preparations for defence. He erected several batteries on the shore, collected a small force of militia from the neighborhood, and, as they were unarmed, put the ship's muskets into their hands. But on the approach of the British regulars, the militia ran away; and Morris, seeing that he could not save his vessel, sent away his sailors and marines, who retreated across a bridge over a deep creek. He and a few men whom he had retained for the service then set a slow-match to the magazine, and, as their retreat by the bridge had been cut off, swam the stream and escaped. The frigate was blown to pieces, and the enemy returned to Castine with neither prisoners nor plunder. But they made thenceforth frequent incursions among the towns of the neighborhood, and freely robbed the inhabitants of what little property they had that was worth taking.
The next orders issued to the British Commodore, Sir Thomas Hardy, were to destroy the town of Stonington, Connecticut; which he found a very different task from the capture of Moose Island. With two frigates, a brig, and a bomb-vessel, he appeared before the town on the 9th of August, and sent in word that he should begin a bombardment in one hour. The women and children were hastily removed, and the men repaired to the defences of the place. These consisted of a small breastwork and three pieces of artillery—two eighteen-pounders, and a six-pounder. A rude, flag-staff was erected, and a small flag nailed to it. Those who had been trained as artillerists took their places at the guns, and the remainder, with muskets, were placed behind the breastwork. Word was sent to General Cushing, commanding at New London, and couriers on horseback rode through the surrounding country to rally the militia.
It was toward evening when Hardy opened his ports and fired upon the town every kind of missile in use at that day—round-shot, grape-shot, canister, bomb-shells, carcasses, rockets, and stink-pots. A carcass was a cylindrical cage or framework of iron, covered with canvas and filled with combustibles, intended to set the buildings on fire. About eight o'clock, while the bombardment was still going on, five barges and a launch filled with men and carrying several guns approached the shore. The Americans permitted them to come within close range, and then poured such a fire of grape-shot into them from the two eighteen-pounders that they were very soon compelled to retire. They then sailed around to the eastern side of the little peninsula, where they supposed it was defenceless. But the Americans dragged the six-pounder across, and were ready for them. With this gun alone, so rapidly was it served and so skilfully handled, they again drove off the fleet of barges.
The bombardment was kept up till midnight, and next day the fleet was increased by the arrival of another brig. The vessels now took a position nearer the shore, and the action was reopened. One brig was anchored within pistol-shot of the battery, at which it directed its guns. But the old eighteen-pounders sent several balls through her between wind and water, compelling her to haul off and repair damages. The barges made an attempt to land a force, as on the day before; but met a similar reception and once more retired. One of the barges was completely torn to pieces by the fire of the six-pounder. The fleet then drifted out of reach of the battery, but kept up the bombardment at long range during that and the following day. On the 12th, Sir Thomas, who had lost twenty-one men killed and more than fifty wounded, bore up and sailed away.
Of the Americans, six had been slightly wounded, and one mortally. Of the hundred houses in Stonington, forty had been more or less injured, ten of them badly, and two or three were entirely destroyed. The enemy had thrown in more than sixty tons of metal. Colonel Randall, the commanding officer, received high praise for the manner in which he had conducted the defence, as did also Lieutenants Lathrop and Hough.
There were smaller affairs of the same nature, at various points along the New England coast. At Wareham the enemy landed in safety by means of a flag of truce, and then burned a large cotton factory and the vessels at their moorings. At Scituate also they burned the shipping. But at Boothbay the militia rallied and drove them off with considerable loss. The attempt to land was repeated on several different days, but every time without success.
Ross's Expedition against Washington—Battle of Bladensburg—Destraction of the Capital—Capitulation of Alexandria—Comments of the London Times—Expedition against Baltimore—Death of Sir Peter Parker—Battle of North Point—Death of General Ross—Bombardment of Fort McHenry—How a Famous Song was written.
But these little affairs along the coast were of small consequence in comparison with what befell the capital of the country. Relieved by the peace in Europe, the English Government resolved to prosecute the American war with greater vigor, and fixed upon the policy of striking at the cities. Baltimore, Washington, Charleston, Savannah, and New Orleans were all marked for capture or destruction. A powerful British fleet was sent to the Bermudas, and a large number of veteran troops transported thither, and the commanders on our coasts were directed to draw thence such forces as they might need for their expeditions.
That Washington was likely to be the object of a hostile demonstration of some kind, was known to the Administration for months, but no efficient measures were taken to meet it. President Madison and General Armstrong, Secretary of War, did not like each other, and neither man was large enough not to let his personal feelings stand in the way of the country's interests. When the President urged that something should be done to avert the danger that threatened the capital, General Armstrong opposed the proposition with such abstruse reasons as that "militia were always most effective when first called out."
The only effective means of defence consisted of a small flotilla commanded by Commodore Joshua Barney, who sailed the waters of Chesapeake Bay for some weeks, continually annoying the English fleet. On the 1st of June he had an engagement with two schooners in the Patuxent, and drove them off with hot shot. A few days later, he was chased into St. Leonard's Creek, where he formed his boats in line of battle across the channel and engaged the enemy's barges, ultimately chasing them down to the ships. On the 10th he was attacked by twenty barges and two schooners; but he beat them all off, and so severely handled one of the schooners, an eighteen-gun vessel, that her crew ran her aground and abandoned her. On the 26th, with the help of a corps of artillery and a detachment of the marine corps, Barney attacked the whole squadron that was blockading him in the St. Leonard's, and after a fight of two hours compelled them to raise the blockade.
General Robert Ross, who had served in several campaigns under Wellington, and was with Sir John Moore when he fell at Corunna, was selected by the Duke to command an expedition against Washington. In July, with three thousand five hundred men, the finest regiments of Wellington's army, he sailed from Bordeaux for the Chesapeake, where he arrived in August, and was at once reenforced by a thousand marines from Cockburn's blockading squadron, and a hundred negroes from the neighboring plantations, who had been armed and drilled as British soldiers.
The District of Columbia and the adjacent counties of Virginia and Maryland had recently been formed into a military district, of which the command was given to General William H. Winder. His forces consisted of five hundred regulars and two thousand militia. On the approach of the enemy, Maryland and Virginia were hastily called upon for reënforcements of militia, and nearly three thousand came from Maryland; but the Virginians, from delay in receiving their flints, did not move till the fighting was over.
Ross's expedition ascended the Patuxent, and on the morning of August 19th his troops were debarked without molestation at Benedict, on the western or right bank, forty miles southeast of Washington. He had twenty-seven vessels, and over four thousand men.
By order of the Secretary of War, Commodore Barney blew up his little flotilla, and with his five hundred seamen and marines retreated to Nottingham, where General Winder assigned to them the management of the artillery.
The weather was fearfully hot, and the enemy proceeded by slow marches, dozens of men falling and fainting by the way. It was remarked at the time that their route might have been so impeded by felling trees, that the weather and the labor of removing them would have defeated the expedition. But nothing of the sort was done. Winder waited in a chosen position at Wood Yard, twelve miles from the city, to give battle. But Ross turned to the right after reaching Nottingham, taking the road to Marlborough, where Admiral Cockburn joined him with a body of marines and seamen. The Americans fell back to Battalion Old Fields, a detachment under Major Peters skirmishing sharply with the advancing enemy, and on the 24th to Bladensburg, six miles from Washington, where a bridge spanned the eastern branch of the Potomac. Here they made a stand, taking a strong position on the western bank, commanding the bridge. The President and several members of his Cabinet were on the field, all interfering more or less with the military arrangements. Monroe—then Secretary of State, afterward President—who had been a staff officer in the Continental army more than thirty years before, considered himself specially qualified as a military meddler, and actually changed the disposition of some of Winder's troops at the last moment.
It could not be expected that a mass of raw militia, hastily called together, and hardly knowing by whom they were commanded, would stand long, even in an advantageous position, before the onset of veteran troops. "Come, General Armstrong, come, Colonel Monroe," said the President, "let us go, and leave it to the commanding General." So Mr. Madison and his Cabinet left the field, and it was not long before the militia followed their illustrious example.
The ground on the eastern side of the river, where the British approached, was low and clear. On the western it rose in a gradual slope, and along the stream was fringed with willows and larches. A body of American riflemen was posted in the shrubbery that lined the bank. Three hundred yards up the slope was a slight earthwork, mounting six guns, supported by two companies of Baltimore volunteers. General Stansbury had posted three regiments to the right of it, but Secretary Monroe had moved them to a point in the rear of the battery and five hundred yards farther up the slope. At the top of the hill, one mile from the bridge, was formed a line consisting of Maryland militia on the right, Barney's seamen and marines in the centre, a detachment of regular troops and a regiment of District militia on the left, with a battery of six guns and a company of riflemen in front.
The enemy entered the village of Bladensburg soon after noon of the 24th, and was at once subjected to a fire that compelled him to seek the shelter of the houses. At one o'clock the advance column rushed at the double quick upon the bridge, where it met a concentrated fire from the American batteries and riflemen, and almost entirely melted away. A remnant, however, succeeded in crossing, deployed at once, and advanced upon the first line, which fell back and permitted two guns to be lost.
Elated at this success, the thin line of British troops threw off their knapsacks and advanced toward the second line, without waiting for another column to cross the bridge to their support. When General Winder saw their error, he placed himself at the head of a regiment of Baltimore volunteers, gave them an effective volley, and then made a charge, and at the point of the bayonet drove them down to the very brink of the river, where with difficulty they maintained their foothold under the trees till another brigade had crossed the bridge to their relief.
One regiment of these fresh troops turned the left of the American line, and threw in some Congreve rockets, which so frightened the militia on that flank that they broke at once and fled in confusion. The regiment headed by Winder stood firm till both its flanks were turned, when it retired, its retreat being covered by the riflemen.
The enemy then attacked the remainder of the line, all of which soon gave way, except Barney's men, who kept them in check for half an hour, and with the fire of four pieces of artillery ploughed their ranks through and through. But when the militia broke, the teamsters stampeded, without stopping to unhitch their horses from the ammunition wagons. Barney was thus left with but a single round of ammunition, while the enemy was gradually gaining a position upon his flank; and though many of his men were acting as infantry and behaved admirably, charging several times with great effect, he was obliged to order a retreat. He himself had been severely wounded, while two of his principal officers were killed, and two others wounded. He fell into the hands of the enemy, who took him to their hospital at Bladensburg. In this action the Americans had lost seventy-seven men killed or wounded; the British, more than five hundred. Ross's entire loss, including deserters, prisoners, and those who succumbed to the weather, was said to be nearly a thousand.
But no serious obstacle now stood in the way of General Ross's purpose to destroy the capital; and with that portion of his force which had not been engaged, he marched thither without the loss of an hour, arriving at eight o'clock that evening.
The most valuable portion of the public archives had been removed to a place of safety, and Mrs. Madison had managed to carry away the original draft of the Declaration of Independence, a portrait of Washington that hung in the White House, and a few other articles which could not have been replaced. The magazines and shipping at the Navy Yard had already been fired by order of the Secretary of War, and everything there was destroyed.
It is said that General Ross offered to spare the city for a price; but there was no one at hand who could treat with him, if the authorities had been inclined to purchase its safety. He expected to be attacked by a more formidable force than that he had met at Brudensburg, and, as he wrote to Earl Bathurst, "judging it of consequence to complete the destruction of the public buildings with the least possible delay, so that the army might retire without loss of time, he without a moment's delay burned and destroyed everything in the most distant degree connected with the government." There was one notable exception. At the intercession of Dr. Thornton, who superintended the Patent Office, the building containing that and the Post Office was spared; because, as the doctor represented, it contained great numbers of models and papers which were of value to the whole scientific world. The jail, one hotel, and a few dwellings also escaped. All else, including the President's house, the public libraries, and the new Capitol—of which only the wings had been built—was given to the flames. The commanders of the expedition distinguished themselves personally in this vandalism. Admiral Cochrane, who had a spite against the National Intelligencer because of its strictures upon his marauding exploits along the coast, caused the office to be sacked and the type thrown into, the street, and with his own hand set the building on fire. Admiral Cockburn is said to have led his men into the hall of the House of Representatives, where he leaped into the Speaker's chair and shouted, "Shall this harbor of Yankee democracy be burned? All for it will say, Aye!"
In the night of the 25th, Ross silently withdrew from the city, leaving his camp-fires burning, for he expected and feared pursuit-, and marched with all that remained of his force to Benedict, where they reëmbarked.
A division of the enemy's fleet, consisting of eight vessels, ascended the Potomac to attack the city of Alexandria. Fort Warburton, a small work intended for its defence, was destroyed by the garrison at the approach of the ships, and with no opposition they passed up and laid the town under their guns. A parley was had, the result of which was that the dwellings were left unmolested, the condition being, "the immediate delivery [to the enemy] of all public and private naval and ordnance stores; of all shipping, and the furniture necessary to their equipment then in port; of all the merchandise of every description, whether in the town or removed from it since the 19th of the month; that such merchandise should be put on board the shipping at the expense of the owners; and that all vessels which might have been sunk upon the approach of the fleet should be raised by the merchants and delivered up with all their apparatus." These conditions, hard as they were, were complied with, and on the 6th of September the fleet, loaded with booty, returned down the river. Two batteries on the shore—at White House and Indian Head, commanded by Captains Porter and Perry, of the navy—damaged it considerably as it passed, but were not able to stop it.
If the importance of General Ross's exploit was overrated by the Americans, who naturally felt chagrined that so small an invading force should have destroyed their capital and momentarily dispersed their Government, it was enormously exaggerated by the English journals. By confounding the capital of the country with its metropolis, they led their readers to believe that the chief city of the United States had been laid in ashes; whereas Washington was but a straggling place of eight thousand inhabitants, which had been made the seat of the Federal Government but a dozen years before. Taking it for granted that what would have befallen England or France with London or Paris in the possession of a foreign enemy, had actually befallen the United States, the London Times proceeded to say: "The ill-organized association is on the eve of dissolution, and the world is speedily to be delivered of the mischievous example of the existence of a government founded on democratic rebellion." In another issue, October 9th, 1814, it said: "Next to the annihilation of the late military despotism in Europe, the subversion of that system of fraud and malignity which constitutes the whole policy of the Jeffersonian school, was an event to be devoutly wished by every man in either hemisphere who regards rational liberty or the honorable intercourse of nations. It was an event to which we should have bent, and yet must bend, all our energies. The American Government must be displaced, or it will sooner or later plant its poisoned dagger in the heart of the parent state." In a speech in Parliament, Sir Gilbert Heathcote naively said, "it appeared to him that we feared the rising power of America, and wished to curtail it." Which, as the Scottish captain in the story said, was "a verra just remark."
In the night of August 30th, Sir Peter Parker, commander of the frigate Menelaus, who had been blockading Baltimore with that and another vessel, landed on the Eastern Shore, with two hundred and thirty men, intending to surprise and capture a small body of Maryland volunteers at Moorfields. But the Maryland men were ready for them, and after a sharp fight of about an hour the British retreated, leaving sixteen of their men killed or wounded on the field, and bearing away seventeen others, among whom was Sir Peter, who died almost as soon as he reached his ship. Three of the Americans were wounded.
Rightly conjecturing that Baltimore would be the next place at which the enemy would strike, the people of that city had made haste to provide for its defence. The fortifications were extended, and manned by about five thousand men. On the 11th of September, forty British war-vessels appeared at the mouth of the Patapsco, and that night eight thousand men, under General Ross, were landed at North Point, a dozen miles below the city. No resistance was offered till they had marched four miles up the little peninsula, when they were met by General John Strivker with three thousand two hundred men, including an artillery company with six small guns, and a detachment of cavalry.
The cavalry and a hundred and fifty riflemen were thrown forward to feel the enemy. General Ross, who had declared that he "did n't care if it rained militia," and had expressed his intention of making winter quarters in Baltimore, put himself at the head of his advance guard, and promptly attacked. But as he rode along the crest of a little knoll, he was shot in the side by an American rifleman, and before his aides could bear him back to the boats, he expired.
Notwithstanding the loss of their leader, the British forces rushed steadily forward, drove the American skirmishers back upon the main line, and brought on a general engagement. The battle lasted two or three hours with varying fortune, till a heavy attack on the American left turned it, when the whole body retreated to an intrenched position near the city.
The British followed the next day, but found their enemy strongly placed and reenforced, whereupon they took advantage of a dark night and retraced their steps. They had lost two hundred and ninety men, killed or wounded, and had inflicted upon the Americans a loss of two hundred and thirteen, including fifty prisoners. This action is known as the battle of North Point, but has sometimes been called the battle of Long-log Lane.
While Ross's men were approaching Baltimore by land, sixteen vessels of the British fleet moved up the bay, and opened fire upon its immediate defences. The shallowness of the water prevented them from getting near enough to bombard the town itself; but for twenty-four hours they poured an almost uninterrupted shower of rockets and shells into Fort McHenry, Fort Covington, and the connecting intrenchments. Most of the firing was at long range; whenever any of the vessels came within reach of the batteries, they were subjected to a fire that quickly drove them back, and in some cases sank them. Fort McHenry, garrisoned by six hundred men under Major George Armistead, bore the brunt of the attack.
At the dead of night the enemy attempted to land a strong force above the forts, for an attack in the rear; but it was discovered and subjected to a concentrated fire of red-hot shot, which speedily drove it off with serious loss. This practically put an end to the attempt to take Baltimore, and a few hours later the fleet withdrew. The loss of the Americans by the bombardment was four killed and twenty-four wounded. The loss in the fleet is unknown.
This bombardment of Fort McHenry gave us one of our national songs. Francis S. Key had gone out to the British fleet in a row-boat, under a flag of truce, to ask for the release on parole of a friend who had been made prisoner. Admiral Cockburn, who had just completed his plans for the attack, detained him, and in his little boat, moored to the side of the flag-ship, he sat and watched the bombardment. When the second morning broke, and he saw that the flag of the fort—which Cockburn had boasted would "yield in a few hours"—was still flying, he took an old letter out of his pocket, and on the back of it wrote the first draft of "The Star-Spangled Banner." The flag is now in the possession of the Massachusetts Historical Society.
Porter's Cruise in the Essex—His Campaign Against the Typees—Destruction of the British Whaling Interest in the Pacific—Battle with the Phoebe and the Cherub—The Peacock and the Epervier—The Wasp and the Reindeer—The Wasp and the Avon—Destruction of the General Armstrong—Loss of the President—The Constitution Captures the Cyane and the Levant—The Hornet and the Penguin.
The naval contests of 1814 and the winter of 1815 repeated and emphasized the lesson of the first year of the war; they were all, with but two exceptions, American victories.
The remarkable cruise of the Essex, commanded by Captain David Porter, begun late in 1812, extended along the coast of South America, around Cape Horn, and throughout almost the entire eastern half of the Pacific, ending in a bloody battle in the harbor of Valparaiso, in March, 1814. The prizes taken in the Atlantic were of little value, except one. The packet ship Nocton, captured just south of the equator, had $55,000 in specie, on board, with which Porter subsequently paid off his men. She was put in charge of a prize crew, and sailed for the United States, but was recaptured on the way by a British frigate.
Porter had sailed under orders to meet Commodore Bainbridge, who had gone to sea with the Constitution and the Hornet. But after failing to find either of those vessels at three successive rendezvous, he determined to carry out a plan which he had submitted to the Secretary of the Navy some time before, for a cruise against the British whalers in the Pacific. After the usual stormy passage, he doubled Cape Horn in February, 1813. His description of one of the gales shows us that the greatest dangers undergone by a man-of-war are not always from the guns of the enemy.
"It was with no little joy we now saw ourselves fairly in the Pacific Ocean, calculating on a speedy end to all our sufferings. We began also to form our projects for annoying the enemy, and had already equipped, in imagination, one of their vessels of fourteen or sixteen guns, and manned her from the Essex, to cruise against their commerce. Indeed, various were the schemes we formed at this time, and had in fancy immense wealth to return with to our country. But the wind freshened up to a gale, and by noon had reduced us to our storm stay-sail and close-reefed main-top-sail. In the afternoon it hauled around to the westward, and blew with a fury far exceeding anything we had yet experienced, bringing with it such a tremendous sea as to threaten us every moment with destruction, and appalled the stoutest heart on board. Our sails, our standing and running rigging, from the succession of bad weather, had become so damaged as to be no longer trustworthy; we took, however, the best means in our power to render everything secure, and carried as heavy a press of sail as the ship would bear, to keep her from drifting on the coast of Patagonia, which we had reason to believe was not far distant.
"From the excessive violence with which the wind blew, we had strong hopes that it would be of short continuance; until, worn out with fatigue and anxiety, greatly alarmed with the terrors of a lee shore, and in momentary expectation of the loss of our masts and bowsprit, we almost considered our situation hopeless. To add to our distress, our pumps had become choked by the shingle ballast, which, from the violent rolling of the ship, had got into them, and the sea had increased to such a height as to threaten to swallow us at every instant. The whole ocean was one continual foam of breakers, and the heaviest squall that I ever experienced had not equalled in violence the most moderate intervals of this tremendous hurricane. We had, however, done all that lay in our power to preserve the ship, and turned our attention to our pumps, which we were enabled to clear, and to keep the ship from drifting on shore, by getting on the most advantageous tack. We were enabled to wear but once; for the violence of the wind and sea was such as afterward to render it impossible to attempt it, without hazarding the destruction of the ship and the loss of every life on board. Our fatigue had been constant and excessive; many had been severely bruised by being thrown, by the violent jerks of the ship, down the hatchways, and I was particularly unfortunate in receiving three severe falls, which at length disabled me from going on deck.
"We had shipped several heavy seas, that would have proved destructive to almost any other ship. About three o'clock of the morning of the 3d, the watch only being on deck, an enormous sea broke over the ship, and for an instant destroyed every hope. Our gun-deck ports were burst in, both boats on the quarter stove, our spare spars washed from the chains, our head-rails washed away, and hammock stanchions burst in, and the ship perfectly deluged and water-logged. Immediately after this tremendous shock, which threw the crew into consternation, the gale began to abate, and in the morning we were enabled to set our reefed foresail. In the height of the gale, Lewis Price, a marine, who had long been confined with a pulmonary complaint, departed this life, and was in the morning committed to the deep; but the violence of the sea was such that the crew could not be permitted to come on deck to attend the ceremony of his burial, as their weight would have strained and endangered the safety of the ship.
"When this last sea broke on board us, one of the prisoners exclaimed that the ship's broadside was stove in, and that she was sinking. This alarm was greatly calculated to increase the fears of those below, who, from the immense torrent of water that was rushing down the hatchways, had reason to believe the truth of his assertion. Many who were washed from the spar- to the gun-deck, and from their hammocks, and did not know the extent of the injury, were also greatly alarmed; but the men at the wheel, and some others, who were enabled by a good grasp to keep their stations, distinguished themselves by their coolness and activity after the shock."
Porter touched at the island of Mocha, and afterward ran into the harbor of Valparaiso, where he learned that his arrival in the Pacific was most opportune; for there were many American whalers that had left home before the war began, and knew nothing of it, while some English whalers, sailing later, had taken out letters of marque, and carried guns, and were making prizes of the unsuspecting Americans.
Porter soon captured a Peruvian privateer, and two English whalers, and recaptured an American ship that had been taken by the enemy. One of the whalers carried six guns, and the other ten. He placed the entire armament in the faster sailer, cut away her try-works, and with some other alterations converted her into a war-vessel, giving the command of her to John Downes, his first lieutenant. Subsequently a still better ship for the purpose was captured, and the armament was shifted to that, which was then re-christened Essex Junior.
With these two ships Porter scoured the ocean for the next six months, and took numerous prizes, nearly all English whalers, several of which had armed themselves as privateers. One he loaded with oil and sent home. Two or three, as he could spare no more men for prize crews, he disarmed and allowed to go home in charge of their own crews, carrying also the other prisoners, all of whom were paroled. One captain, whom he found cruising as a privateer without a commission as such, he put in irons, to be tried as a pirate when the Essex should return home. In that six months, Porter and Downes had captured four thousand tons of British shipping, taking four hundred prisoners; and as they could now hear of no more in that part of the Pacific, they went in October to the Marquesas Islands, to refit their vessels and let the crews have a rest and a run on shore.
There in the beautiful harbor of Nukahiva they made repairs and wooded and watered at their leisure. Porter formally took possession of the island in the name of the United States, called it Madison's Island, and the harbor Massachusetts Bay, and built a fort on the shore, in which he mounted four guns. Near the fort he constructed a small village, consisting of six houses, a rope-walk, a bakery, and other buildings, which he named Madisonville.
His "Journal" gives an interesting account of their life for four or five weeks among the natives of that romantic and then almost unknown group. One of the most exciting incidents of it was a war between two tribes—the Happahs and the Typees—occupying different parts of the island. All the tribes of the island except the Typees had made a sort of treaty of friendship and alliance with Porter. As he and his men were guests of the Happahs, and the Typees had begun to treat them as enemies, Porter felt obliged to join in the war, when the superiority of the fire-arms over the native weapons ended it in the disastrous defeat of the Typees. But this was not accomplished without severe fighting, in which the Typees exhibited the most determined courage, and a great degree of military skill, making the best of such weapons and advantages as they had. Porter's campaign in the Typee valley is one of the most singular episodes in all the annals of war, and the reader will probably be interested in some passages from his account of it, though it has no necessary connection with the subject to which this volume is devoted.
"We arrived at the Typee landing at sunrise, and were joined by ten war-canoes from the Happahs. The Essex Junior soon after arrived and anchored. The tops of all the neighboring mountains were covered with the Taeeh and Happah warriors, armed with their spears, clubs, and slings. The beach was covered with the warriors who came with the canoes, and who joined us from the hills. Our force did not amount to a less number than five thousand men; but not a Typee or any of their dwellings were to be seen. For the whole length of the beach, extending upward of a quarter of a mile, was a clear level plain which extended back about one hundred yards. A high and almost impenetrable swampy thicket bordered on this plain, and the only trace we could perceive which, we were informed, led to the habitations, was a narrow pathway which winded through the swamp.
"The canoes were all hauled on the beach, the Taeehs on the right, the Happahs on the left, and our four boats in the centre. We only waited for reënforcements from the Essex Junior, our interpreter, our ambassadors, and Gattanewa [chief of the Happahs], I went on board to hasten them on shore, and on my return to the beach I found everyone in arms. The Typees had appeared in the bushes, and had pelted our people with stones while they were quietly eating their breakfast.
"I had a man with me who had intermarried with the Typees, and was privileged to go among them, and I furnished him with a white flag and sent him to tell them I had come to offer peace, but was prepared for war. In a few minutes he came running back, and informed me he had met in the bushes an ambuscade of Typees, who had threatened to put him to death if he again ventured among them. In an instant afterward a shower of stones came from the bushes, and at the same moment one of the Typees darted across the pathway and was shot through the leg, but was carried off by his friends.
"Lieutenant Downes arrived with his men, and I gave the order to march. We entered the bushes, and were at every instant assailed by spears and stones, which came from different parts of the enemy in ambuscade. We could hear the snapping of the slings, the whistling of the stones; the spears came quivering by us, but we could not perceive from whom they came. No enemy was to be seen, not a whisper was to be heard among them.
"We had advanced about a mile, and came to a small opening on the bank of a river, from the thicket on the opposite side of which we were assailed with a shower of stones, when Lieutenant Downes received a blow which shattered the bone of his left leg, and he fell. The allied tribes sat as silent observers of our operations; the sides of the mountains were still covered with them, and I as well as the Taeehs had no slight grounds to doubt the fidelity of the Happahs. A defeat would have sealed our destruction.
"The Indians began to leave us, and all depended on our own exertions. I directed Mr. Shaw with four men to escort Lieutenant Downes to the beach, which reduced the number of my men to twenty-four. We soon came to a place for fording the river, in the thick bushes of the opposite bank of which the Typees made a bold stand. We endeavored in vain to clear the bushes with our musketry. The stones and spears flew with augmented numbers. I directed a volley to be fired, three cheers to be given, and to dash across the river. We soon gained the opposite bank, and continued our march, rendered still more difficult by the underwood, which was here so interlaced as to make it necessary sometimes to crawl on our hands and knees.
"On emerging from the swamp, we perceived a strong and extensive wall of seven feet in height, raised on an eminence crossing our road, and flanked on each side by an impenetrable thicket. In an instant afterward we were assailed by such a shower of stones, accompanied by the most horrid yells, as left no doubt that we had here to encounter their principal strength. A tree which afforded shelter from their stones enabled me, accompanied by Lieutenant Gamble, to annoy them as they rose above the wall to throw at us; but these were the only muskets that could be employed to advantage.
"Finding we could not dislodge them, I gave orders for taking the place by storm. But some of my men had expended all their cartridges, few had more than three or four remaining, and our only safety depended on holding our ground till we could procure a fresh supply. I despatched Lieutenant Gamble and four men to the Essex Junior, and from the time of their departure we were chiefly occupied in eluding the stones, which came with redoubled force and numbers. Three of my men were knocked down by them. As a feint, we retreated a few paces, and in an instant the Indians rushed on us with hideous yells. The first and second that advanced were killed at the distance of a few paces, and those who attempted to carry them off were wounded. They abandoned their dead, and precipitately retreated to their fort. Taking advantage of the terror they were thrown into, we marched off with our wounded, returning to the beach much fatigued and with no contemptible opinion of the enemy.
"The next day I determined to proceed with a force which I believed they could not resist, and selected two hundred men from the Essex, the Essex Junior, and the prizes. As some of the boats were leaky, I determined to go by land, over the mountain ridge. We had a fine, moonlight night, and I hoped to be down in the Typee valley long before daylight.
"Not a whisper was heard from one end of the line to the other. Our guides marched in front, and we followed in silence up and down the steep sides of rocks and mountains, through rivulets, thickets, and reed-brakes, and by the sides of precipices which sometimes caused us to shudder. At twelve o'clock we could hear the drums beating in the Typee valley, accompanied by loud singing, and the number of lights in different parts of it induced me to believe they were rejoicing. I inquired the cause, and was informed by the Indians that they were celebrating the victory they had obtained over us, and calling on their gods to give them rain in order that it might render our bouhier [muskets] useless.
"The Indians told us it would be impossible to descend without daylight; and when it was light enough to see down the valley, we were surprised at the height and steepness. A narrow pathway pointed out the track, but it was soon lost among the cliffs. Before I left the hill, I determined by firing a volley to show the natives that our muskets had not received as much injury as they had expected from the rain. As soon as they heard the report, and discovered our number, which, with the multitude of Indians of both tribes who had now assembled, was very numerous, they shouted, beat their drums, and blew their war-conchs from one end of the valley to the other; and what with the squealing of the hogs, which they now began to catch, the screaming of the women and children, and the yelling of the men, the din was horrible.
"We descended with great difficulty into the village of the Happahs, where everything bore the appearance of a hostile disposition on their part. I sent for their chief, and required to know if they were hostilely disposed. I told him it was necessary we should have something to eat, and that I expected his people to bring us hogs and fruit, and if they did not do so, I should be under the necessity of sending out parties to shoot the hogs and cut down their fruit-trees, as our people were too fatigued to climb them. I also directed that they should lay by their spears and clubs. No notice being taken of these demands, I caused many of their spears and clubs to be taken from them and broken, and sent parties out to shoot hogs, while others were employed in cutting down cocoanut and banana trees until we had a sufficient supply. The chiefs and people now became intimidated, and brought baked hogs in greater abundance than was required.
"At daylight next morning the line of march was formed. On ascending the ridge where we had passed such a disagreeable night, we halted to take breath, and view for a few minutes the delightful valley which was soon to become a scene of desolation. We had a distant view of every part. The valley was about nine miles in length, and three or four in breadth, surrounded on every part, except the beach, by lofty mountains. The upper part was bounded by a precipice many hundred feet in height, from the top of which a handsome sheet of water was precipitated, and formed a beautiful river which ran meandering through the valley. Villages were scattered here and there; the bread-fruit and cocoanut trees flourished luxuriantly and in abundance; plantations laid out in good order, enclosed with stone walls, were in a high state of cultivation; and everything bespoke industry, abundance, and happiness. Never in my life did I witness a more delightful scene or experience more repugnance than I now felt for the necessity which compelled me to punish a happy and heroic people.
"A large assembly of Typee warriors were posted on the opposite banks of the river, and dared us to descend. In their rear was a fortified village, secured by strong stone walls. Drums were beating and war-conchs sounding, and we soon found they were making every effort to oppose us.
"As soon as we reached the foot of the mountain we were annoyed by a shower of stones from the bushes and from behind stone walls. After resting a few minutes, I directed the scouting parties to gain the opposite bank of the river, and followed with the main body. The fortified village was taken without loss on our side; but their chief warrior and another were killed, and several wounded. They retreated only to stone walls on higher ground, where they continued to sling their stones and throw their spears. Three of my men were wounded, and many of the Typees killed, before we dislodged them.
"Parties were sent out to scour the woods, and another fort was taken after some resistance; but the party, overpowered by numbers, were compelled to retreat to the main body, after keeping possession of it half an hour. We were waiting, in the fort first taken, for the return of our scouting parties. A multitude of Tayees and Happahs were with us, and many were on the outskirts of the village, seeking for plunder. Lieutenant McKnight had driven a party from a strong wall on the high ground, and had possession of it, when a large party of Typees, who had been lying in ambush, rushed by his fire and darted into the fort with their spears. The Tayeehs and Happahs all ran. The Typees approached within pistol-shot, but on the first fire retreated precipitately, crossing the fire of McKnight's party, and although none fell, we had reason to believe that many were wounded. The spears and stones were flying from the bushes in every direction; and although we killed and wounded in this place great numbers of them, we were satisfied that we should have to fight our way through the whole valley. "I sent a messenger to inform the Typees that we should cease hostilities when they no longer made resistance, but so long as stones were thrown I should destroy their villages. No notice was taken of this message.
"We continued our march up the valley, and met in our way several beautiful villages, which we set on fire, and at length arrived at their capital—for it deserves the name of one. We had been compelled to fight every inch of ground, and here they made considerable opposition. The place was soon carried, however, and I very reluctantly set fire to it. The beauty and regularity of this place were such as to strike every spectator with astonishment. Their public square was far superior to any other we had met with. Numbers of their gods were here destroyed; several large and elegant new war-canoes were burned in the houses that sheltered them, and many of their drums were thrown into the flames. Our Indians loaded themselves with plunder, after destroying bread-fruit and other trees and all the young plants they could find. We had now arrived at the upper end of the valley, about nine miles from the beach, and at the foot of the waterfall above mentioned.
"After resting about half an hour, I directed the Indians to take care of our wounded, and we formed the line of march and proceeded down the valley, in our route destroying several other villages, at all of which we had some skirmishing. At one of these places, at the foot of a steep hill, the enemy rolled down enormous stones, with a view of crushing us to death. The number of villages destroyed amounted to ten; and the destruction of trees and plants, and the plunder carried off by the Indians, was almost incredible. The Typees fought us to the last, and even at first harassed our rear on our return; but parties left in ambush soon put a stop to further annoyance.
"We at length came to the formidable fort which checked our career on our first day's enterprise, and although I had witnessed many instances of the great exertion and ingenuity of these islanders, I never had supposed them capable of contriving and erecting a work like this. It formed the segment of a circle, and was about fifty yards in extent, built of large stones, six feet thick at the bottom and gradually narrowing to the top. On the left was a narrow entrance, merely sufficient to admit one person's entering. The wings and rear were equally guarded, and the right was flanked by another fortification of greater magnitude and equal strength and ingenuity. I directed the Indians and my own men to put their shoulders to the wall and endeavor to throw it down; but no impression could be made upon it. It appeared of ancient date, and time alone can destroy it. We succeeded in making a small breach, through which we passed on our route to the beach,—a route which was familiar to us, but had now become doubly intricate from the number of trees which had since been cut down and placed across the pathway.
"The chiefs of the Happahs invited me to return to their valley, assuring me that an abundance of everything was already provided for us; and the girls, who had assembled in great numbers, dressed out in their best attire, welcomed me with smiles. Gattanewa met me on the side of the hill as I was ascending. The old man's heart was full; he could not speak; he placed both my hands on his head, rested his forehead on my knees, and after a short pause, raising himself, placed his hands on my breast, and exclaimed Gattanewa! and then on his own and said Apotee! [Porter] to remind me we had exchanged names.
"When I reached the summit of the mountain, I stopped to contemplate that valley which in the morning we had viewed in all its beauty. A long line of smoking ruins now marked our traces from one end to the other, the opposite hills were covered with the unhappy fugitives, and the whole presented a scene of desolation and horror. Unhappy and heroic people! the victims of your own courage and mistaken pride. While the instruments of your fate shed the tear of pity over your misfortunes, thousands of your countrymen—nay, brethren of the same family—triumphed in your distresses.
"The day of our return was devoted to rest. But a messenger was despatched to the Typees to inform them I was still willing to make peace, and that I should not allow them to return to their valley until they had come on terms of friendship with us, and exchanged presents. They readily consented to the terms, and requested to know the number of hogs I should require. I told them I should expect from them four hundred, which they assured me should be delivered without delay.
"Flags were now sent from all the other tribes, with large presents of hogs and fruit, and peace was established throughout the island. The chiefs, the priests, and the principal persons of the tribes were very solicitous of forming a relationship with me by an exchange of names with some of my family. Some wished to bear the name of my brother, my son-in-law, my brother-in-law, etc., and when all the male stock were exhausted, they as anxiously solicited the names of the other sex. The name of my son, however, was more desired than any other, and many old men, whose long gray beards rendered their appearance venerable, were known by the name of Pickaneenee Apotee; the word 'pickaninny' having been introduced among them by the sailors."
Captain Porter was undoubtedly sincere in the belief that what he had done was a necessity of war. But when we consider that it arose simply from the refusal of a people, standing on their own ground, to enter into a treaty of amity with strangers whose language they could not speak, and whose purposes they did not understand, it looks as if the captain had imposed a pretty heavy penalty for a small offence, and given the unfortunate Typees as unfair treatment as he himself experienced a few months later in the harbor of Valparaiso.
Meanwhile, Captain Porter had learned that an English frigate had been sent out to stop his career; and as whalers had now become scarce, and he had taken as many prizes as he could well manage, after refitting at the Marquesas Islands, he sailed in search of his enemy. The truth was, Captain James Hillyar, of the British navy, was looking for him with two ships, the Phoebe and the Cherub, mounting respectively fifty-three and twenty-eight guns; and there is good reason to believe that the Admiralty had sent him out with stringent orders to find and destroy or capture the Essex at all hazards. He found her at Valparaiso, and blockaded her there for six weeks. On one occasion the Essex and the Phoebe almost fouled, through the fault of the latter, and Porter called away his boarders and in a moment more would have been on the Englishman's deck; but Hillyar protested so earnestly that he had no intention of attacking in a neutral port, that he was permitted to withdraw from his suspicious position. Had Porter been more shrewd and less chivalrous, he would perhaps have seen that there was no way to account for the position of the Phoebe, except on the supposition that Hillyar was intending to carry the Essex by boarding, had he not found her commander and crew too ready for him. That he cared nothing for the neutrality of the port, was demonstrated by his subsequent conduct.
After vainly offering battle on equal terms, Porter, on the 28th of March, attempted to put to sea. But his ship was struck by a heavy squall, which carried away the main-top-mast. Being pursued by the Phoebe and Cherub, he tacked about, reentered the harbor, and anchored within pistol-shot of the shore. Paying not the slightest regard to the neutrality of the port, the enemy followed the Essex, took a position under her stern, and opened fire. Even under this disadvantage, Porter got three long guns out at the stern ports, and fought them so skilfully that in half an hour both the Phoebe and the Cherub drew off for repairs. They next took a position on the starboard quarter, out of reach of the carronades that composed the Essex's broadside, and fired at her with their long guns. Under his flying jib, the only sail he could set, Porter ran down upon the enemy, and after a short and intense action at close range, drove off the Cherub. But the Phoebe edged away again out of reach of his carronades, and kept up a steady fire from her long guns. The slaughter on board the Essex was sickening. At one gun, three whole crews were swept away in succession. Says Captain Porter, in his 'Journal', "I was informed that the cockpit, the steerage, the ward-room, and the berth-deck could contain no more wounded; that the wounded were killed while the surgeons were dressing them; and that, unless something was speedily done to prevent it, the ship would soon sink from the number of shot-holes in her bottom."
The captain next tried to run her ashore; but while she was still nearly a mile from the land, the wind suddenly shifted. A hawser was bent to the sheet anchor, and the ship swung round so as to bring her broadside to bear on the enemy, but the hawser soon parted. Indeed, she had anchored in the first place with springs on her cables, but the springs had been repeatedly shot away. *
With all these misfortunes, the ship took fire, and as the flames burst up the hatchways Porter ordered all who could swim to jump overboard and strike out for the shore, as the boats had been destroyed by the enemy's shot. The flames were extinguished; but the Essex was now a wreck, deliberately raked by every discharge from her antagonist, and the colors were struck. The Essex Junior had been in no condition to assist in the fight, but was included in the surrender. Out of two hundred and fifty-five men, Porter had lost one hundred and fifty-four in killed, wounded, or missing. Hillyar reported the loss on his two ships as five killed and ten wounded.
The battle had been witnessed by thousands of people on shore. So near were the vessels to land a part of the time, that many of the Phoebe's shot struck the beach. The United States Consul, Joel R. Poinsett, protested to the Chilian authorities
* A "spring" of this sort is a rope, one end of which is attached to the cable and the other end carried to the after part of the ship, so that by hauling upon it she can be swung round to point her broadside in any desired direction. A high authority—Farragut—says one of Porter's serious mistakes in this action was in fastening the springs to the cable, when they should have been fastened to the anchor, which would have carried the greater part of them below the surface of the water, out of the reach of shot.
against the violation of neutrality, and demanded that the batteries protect the Essex; but he received no satisfactory answer, and took the first opportunity of leaving the country. Captain Porter estimated that it had cost the British Government nearly six million dollars to possess his ship.
Among the crew of the Essex was a midshipman twelve years old, who subsequently became the greatest of all naval commanders, David G. Farragut.
In his "Journal" he describes vividly the battle and the part he took in it. Some passages will be of interest here, as they present pictures seldom found in the descriptions of such contests:
"I well remember the feelings of awe produced in me by the approach of the hostile ships; even to my young mind it was perceptible in the faces of those around me, as clearly as possible, that our case was hopeless. It was equally apparent that all were ready to die at their guns, rather than surrender; and such I believe to have been the determination of the crew, almost to a man. There had been so much bantering of each other between the men of the ships, through the medium of letters and songs, with an invariable fight between the boats' crews when they met on shore, that a very hostile sentiment was engendered. Our flags were flying from every mast, and the enemy's vessels displayed their ensigns, jacks, and motto-flags, as they bore down grandly to the attack.
"I performed the duties of captain's aid, quarter-gunner, powder-boy, and in fact did everything that was required of me. I shall never forget the horrid impression made upon me by the sight of the first man I had ever seen killed. He was a boatswain's mate, and was fearfully mutilated. It staggered and sickened me at first; but they soon began to fall around me so fast that it all appeared like a dream, and produced no effect on my nerves. I can remember well, while I was standing near the captain, just abaft the mainmast, a shot came through the water-ways and glanced upward, killing four men who were standing by the side of the gun, taking the last one in the head and scattering his brains over both of us. But this awful sight did not affect me half as much as the death of the first poor fellow. I neither thought of nor noticed anything but the working of the guns.
"On one occasion Midshipman Isaacs came up to the captain and reported that a quarter-gunner named Roach had deserted his post. The only reply of the captain, addressed to me, was, 'Do your duty, sir.' I seized a pistol and went in pursuit of the fellow, but did not find him.
"Soon after this, some gun-primers were wanted. and I was sent after them. In going below, while I was on the ward-room ladder, the captain of the gun directly opposite the hatchway was struck full in the face by an eighteen-pound shot, and fell back on me. We tumbled down the hatch together. I struck on my head, and fortunately he fell on my hips. As he was a man of at least two hundred pounds' weight, I would have been crushed to death if he had fallen directly across my body. I lay for some moments stunned by the blow, but soon recovered consciousness enough to rush up on deck. The captain, seeing me covered with blood, asked if I was wounded, to which I replied, 'I believe not, sir.' 'Then,' said he, 'where are the primers?' This first brought me completely to my senses, and I ran below again and carried the primers on deck. When I came up the second time, I saw the captain fall, and in my turn ran up and asked if he was wounded. He answered me almost in the same words, 'I believe not, my son; but I felt a blow on the top of my head.' He must have been knocked down by the windage of a passing shot.
"When my services were not required for other purposes, I generally assisted in working a gun; would run and bring powder from the boys, and send them back for more, until the captain wanted me to carry a message. "I have already remarked how soon I became accustomed to scenes of blood and death during the action; but after the battle had ceased, when, on going below, I saw the mangled bodies of my shipmates, dead and dying, groaning and expiring with the most patriotic sentiments on their lips, I became faint and sick. As soon as I recovered from the first shock, however, I hastened to assist the surgeon. Among the badly wounded was one of my best friends, Lieutenant J. G. Cowell. When I spoke to him he said, 'O Davy, I fear it is all up with me.' I found that he had lost a leg just above the knee, and the doctor informed me that his life might have been saved if he had consented to the amputation of the limb an hour before; but when it was proposed to drop another patient and attend to him, he replied, 'No, doctor, none of that; fair play is a jewel. One man's life is as dear as another's; I would not cheat any poor fellow out of his turn.' Thus died one of the best officers and bravest men among us.
"It was wonderful to find dying men, who had hardly ever attracted notice among the ship's company, uttering sentiments worthy of a Washington. You might have heard in all directions, 'Don't give her up, Logan!'—a sobriquet for Porter—'Hurrah for liberty!' and similar expressions. A young Scotchman named Bissley had one leg shot off close to the groin. He used his handkerchief for a tourniquet, and said to his comrades, 'I left my own country and adopted the United States, to fight for her. I hope I have this day proved myself worthy of the country of my adoption. I am no longer of any use to you or to her, so good-by!' With these words, he leaned on the sill of the port and threw himself overboard.
"Lieutenant Wilmer, who had been sent forward to let go the sheet anchor, was knocked overboard by a shot. After the action, his little Negro boy, Ruff, came on deck and asked me what had become of his master, and when I imparted to him the sad news, he deliberately jumped into the sea and was drowned.
"I went on board the Phoebe about 8 A.M. on the 29th, and was ushered into the steerage. I was so mortified at our capture that I could not refrain from tears. While in this uncomfortable state, I was aroused by hearing a young reefer call out, 'A prize! a prize! Ho, boys, a fine grunter, by Jove!' I saw at once that he had under his arm a pet pig belonging to our ship, called Murphy. I claimed the animal as my own. 'Ah,' said he, 'but you are a prisoner, and your pig also.' 'We always respect private property,' I replied, and as I had seized hold of Murphy I determined not to let go, unless compelled by superior force. This was fun for the oldsters, who immediately sung out, 'Go it, my little Yankee! If you can thrash Shorty, you shall have your pig!' 'Agreed!' said I. A ring was formed, and at it we went. I soon found that my antagonist's pugilistic education did not come up to mine. In fact, he was no match for me, and was compelled to give up the pig. So I took Master Murphy under my arm, feeling that I had in some degree wiped out the disgrace of our defeat." Porter and his surviving men were paroled, and the Essex Junior was converted into a cartel, in which they were sent home to New York. When she was within about thirty miles of her destination, she was overhauled by a British war-vessel and detained all night, which by the terms of the agreement with Captain Hillyar absolved them from their parole. In the morning Captain Porter with a few men left the ship in a small boat, unnoticed, and pulled for shore, landing at Babylon, Long Island, about sunset. He was immediately made a prisoner by the militia; but when he exhibited his commission, they fired a salute of twenty-one guns and furnished a horse and cart to carry his boat. On reaching New York, he received a grand ovation, and as he rode through the streets the people unhitched his horses and drew the carriage themselves. Thus ended one of the most exciting, varied, and romantic cruises ever made by a modern sailor.