In the foremost rank of the most desperate and valorous conflicts recorded in the annals of the sea stands that made by Captain Samuel C. Reid, of the privateer schooner General Armstrong, in the harbor of Fayal, in the Azore islands, beginning early in the evening of September 26, 1814, and lasting, with intervals of peace, all night.

The Armstrong was a New York privateer. She was owned by Renselaer Havens, Thomas Formar, and Thomas Jenkins. In the early part of the war she carried nineteen guns, of which one was a long twelve-pounder and the others long nines. Manned by one hundred and fifty men under Captain Tim Barnard, she took nineteen prizes. Later twelve of the long nines were removed for use in a fort and a forty-two pounder placed amidship for a “long tom.”

In this style, under Captain Samuel C. Reid, she sailed from New York Harbor on September 9, 1814. The letter of instruction from her owners to her captain suggested that he cruise near the Madeiras to intercept the Brazil fleet. To this was added a paragraph worth quoting. It said, “Be particular in strictly prohibiting any plunder or depredations.”

With a fair wind and the Gulf Stream to help him along, Captain Reid arrived at Fayal Roads on September 26th and anchored there for the purpose of getting water and such fresh provisions as the port afforded.

The American consul, Mr. John B. Dabney, informed him that no British cruisers had been among the Azores for several weeks, but at about dusk that afternoon, while the captain, the consul, and some friends were standing on the deck of the Armstrong, the British brig Carnation suddenly came into view under the northeast head of the harbor within range of long guns.

Consul Dabney was quite certain that the British would respect the neutrality of the port, but as soon as a pilot had arrived alongside of the Carnation “she hauled close in and let go her anchor within pistol-shot of us.” And then as her anchor splashed into the water the big British liner Plantagenet and the frigate Rota came in sight.

Thereafter for some time there was a rapid exchange of signals between the Carnation and the big ship. All of the boats of the Carnation were dropped into the water. One boat was sent off from her to the Plantagenet and there was, in short, no end of bustle about her decks.

A full moon was shining that night, and in the clear air of the Azores every move of the enemy was distinctly seen from the Armstrong and from the shore as well. The significance of the bustle on the Carnation was unmistakable, and Captain Reid, after clearing for action, got up his anchor, and with the aid of long oars began to sweep the Armstrong away from the enemy and close inshore. There was only a faint air blowing and no sails were set on the Armstrong. But as soon as the crew of the Carnation saw the Yankee leaving them they cut cable and made sail in pursuit while four boats were manned with armed men and sent after her.

It was now about eight o’clock. Seeing the boats coming Captain Reid dropped his anchor, got springs on his cable and then triced up a stout rope net all around the vessel above the rail—a net that the boarders could not quickly cut out of the way nor easily climb over. Then Captain Reid hailed them repeatedly but they made no reply, unless, indeed, the quickening of their stroke, which was manifest, was a reply.

That the four boats were making a dash to capture the Armstrong was not to be doubted and is not doubted now by any fair mind. In defence of his vessel attacked in a neutral harbor Captain Reid opened fire. The enemy returned the fire instantly and came on at their best stroke, but before they had reached the rail of the schooner they had had enough, and while some of them begged for quarter, they all turned about and rowed back to the Carnation.

The loss of the enemy in this preliminary skirmish was never printed, but the Armstrong lost one man killed and the First Lieutenant, Frederick A. Worth, wounded.

When the enemy had retired, the Armstrong was hauled in until within pistol shot of the Portuguese Castle on shore, and there she was moored, head and stern to the beach, after which the arms were all prepared for action and the crew, to a man, awaited the next assault with the hearty good-will characteristic of the American seamen when resisting insolent aggression. And meantime the whole population of the port, roused by the fire in the first attack, gathered on every height overlooking the Yankee’s berth to watch the issue. The Portuguese Governor was among those who saw it all.

Neither spectator nor sailorman had long to wait for the first manœuvre. By 9 o’clock the Carnation was seen drifting in with a large fleet of boats. Pretty soon the boats left the Carnation and gathered under shelter of a reef of rocks at long musket range from the Armstrong. Here they lay until midnight, when, after being divided into three divisions, of four boats each—the number of boats was easily counted by every spectator of the scene—they headed for the desperate Yankees.

Waiting until within close range Captain Reid opened on them. “The discharge from our long tom rather staggered them,” but they instantly recovered and, returning the fire with carronades, boat-howitzers, and muskets, they gave three cheers and bravely dashed in at the schooner. One round was all that Captain Reid could give them from his four cannon, for they were at the schooner’s low rail before he could reload. There was nothing for it then but to fight, man to man, man-fashion. With their sharpened cutlasses the British seamen strove to cut their way to the schooner’s deck, while the marines with muskets and bayonets strove to clear the Yankees away from the schooner’s rail. But the Yankees with muskets and pistols for a few rounds and with pikes and cutlasses and axes stood to their post and stabbed and slashed and chopped back. The British came on with fierce cheers and cries; the Yankees with close-shut mouths and bared arms split open the British heads down to the yelling mouths, and cut the throats and broke in the backs of those that twisted and turned to find a way on board. The enemy had come in three divisions; they swarmed at the stern and the waist and the bow. There were more than three hundred of them to the eighty-eight Americans, and for forty minutes the British fought with a vigor born of hatred, contempt, and mortified pride. But they were beating their heads and arms against a granite rock. Not once did an armed enemy stand for three seconds on the Armstrong’s deck. Because Second Lieutenant Alexander O. Williams was killed on the forecastle, and Third Lieutenant Robert Johnson was shot through the knee and unable to stand erect, the defence on the forecastle almost failed. But Captain Reid rallied his victorious shipmates from the quarter-deck and charging forward drove the last boat from the schooner’s bow.

Two of the enemy’s boats “which belonged to the Rota” were captured, “literally loaded with their own dead. Seventeen only had escaped from them both”—escaped by swimming ashore. The others, not less than fifty in number, were killed. Several boats were destroyed. “In another boat under our quarter, commanded by one of the lieutenants of the Plantagenet, all were killed save four. This I have from the lieutenant himself.” So says Captain Reid. The British officers admitted to Consul Dabney “that they have lost in killed, and who have died since the engagement, upward of one hundred and twenty of the flower of their officers and men. The captain of the Rota told me he lost seventy men from his ship.” So wrote the consul in his official report. Afterward “the British, mortified at this signal and unexpected defeat, endeavored to conceal the extent of their loss.”

In order to show American readers in what fashion British historians have handled the stories of the actions in which British seamen were badly defeated by the Yankees, the entire report which Allen wrote of this affair is here given verbatim:

“On the 26th of September, a squadron, consisting of the 74-gun ship Plantagenet, Captain Robert Lloyd; 38-gun frigate Rota, Captain Philip Somerville; and 18-gun brig Carnation, Commander George Bentham, cruising off the Western Islands, discovered at anchor in Fayal Roads the American schooner privateer General Armstrong, Captain Camplin, of seven guns and ninety men. The neutrality of the port having been violated by the American captain in firing on a boat from the Plantagenet, by which two men were killed and two wounded, Captain Lloyd determined to attempt the capture of the privateer by the boats of the squadron. At 8 h. P.M. the Plantagenet and Rota anchored off Fayal Road, and at 9 h. seven boats from the two ships, containing one hundred and eighty men, under the orders of Lieutenant William Matterface of the Rota, departed on this service. At midnight, after a fatiguing pull, the boats arrived within hail, when they received from the schooner, and from a battery erected with some of her guns on a point of land, a heavy fire of cannon and musketry. Two of the boats were sunk, and more than half the men that had been sent away in them killed or wounded. The remainder returned, and about 2 h. A.M. on the 27th reached the Rota. The Rota’s first and third lieutenants (Matterface and Charles R. Norman), one midshipman, and thirty-one seamen and marines were killed; and her second lieutenant, Richard Rawle, Lieutenant of Marines Thomas Park, —— Bridgeman (acting) purser, two midshipmen, and eighty-one men wounded. Soon after daylight the Carnation stood into the roads to attack the privateer; but the Americans set fire to and destroyed her.”

A careful examination of this report will be found most interesting.

First of all let the reader observe that the American consul in his official report says that the captain of the Rota admitted a loss of seventy from that one ship. But Allen says that the Rota’s loss was thirty-four killed and eighty-five wounded—in all one hundred and nineteen.

This is important because it proves that Consul Dabney in his report of the British losses understated at least the loss of the Rota; it proves that he was entirely candid and fair in his report. He truthfully reported what the British officers told him. It is therefore reasonable to suppose that when he says the British officers admitted to him that they had lost one hundred and twenty of their best men, he also tells the truth. It is not unreasonable to suppose further that these British officers understated the facts, as did the captain of the Rota when talking to him.

Let us now consider the number of boats attacking the little schooner. Dabney says that twelve large boats “crowded with men” came at the schooner. Observe that this is a statement by a spectator whose candor is proved by the enemy’s historian, and then read Allen’s report which says that “the Plantagenet and Rota anchored off Fayal Road, and at 9 h. seven boats from the two ships, containing one hundred and eighty men,” were sent. He says “Captain Lloyd determined to attempt the capture of the privateer by the boats of the squadron,” and then he omits saying whether boats were sent from the Carnation, and leaves the reader to infer that none was sent from her. Will a fair-minded student accept Consul Dabney’s count of twelve boats or will he do as Allen would have him do—will he believe that after Lloyd determined to attack with “the boats of the squadron” only the seven boats from the two ships and no more were sent? Is this unfairly accusing Allen of lack of candor? If anyone thinks it is unfair, let him note further that Allen gives in detail the losses among the Rota’s crew and does not say a word—not one word—about losses on the boats from the Plantagenet.

There were “seven boats from the two ships.” The one was a line-of-battle-ship and the other a frigate. Would not the larger ship send more boats than the smaller one? But grant that the larger ship sent three and the smaller one four, what was the loss on the Plantagenet? Were the Plantagenet’s men cowards that they did not fight and get hurt? Certainly the loss on the Plantagenet was as great in proportion to the number of men engaged as on the Rota. Captain Reid of the Armstrong says that he learned from a lieutenant belonging to the Plantagenet, that all but four men were killed in one of the Plantagenet’s boats under the Armstrong’s quarter. Shall we believe this explicit statement or must we infer, because Allen says nothing about any loss on the Plantagenet, that there really was no loss there? And in connection with this let the reader note once more that no boat from the Carnation is mentioned by Allen and that no loss among her crew is recorded by him.

And then consider once more that one hundred and nineteen were killed and wounded on the Rota’s boats. How many men were there in each of her boats that she should have lost that number of killed and wounded in four? These boats carried carronades. By referring to the accounts of other battles of the kind (that at Craney’s Island, for instance, where James himself admits that there were seven hundred men in fifteen boats, or forty-six to the boat) we learn that an ordinary ship’s cutter would carry at least twenty-five men, and a long-boat or launch anywhere from forty men up to sixty or more. Recalling now that the Americans credit two of the Rota’s boats with seventeen men escaping ashore by swimming, it is fair to suppose that part of them were unhurt. And if she had four boats to the Plantagenet’s three, part of each of her other two also escaped. In short, if she lost one hundred and nineteen it is fair to suppose that twenty-one escaped unhurt—it is fair to suppose that she averaged at the very least thirty-five men to the boat. The candid Dabney says the boats were crowded with men. We are at liberty, in view of these facts, to doubt Allen’s statement that only one hundred and eighty men were in the seven boats. Because he omits to tell the loss of the Plantagenet, and because he deliberately omits to tell how many men the Carnation had in the fight as well as how many she lost, we are compelled to believe that Allen deliberately understated the number of men in the boats he admits were sent. In short there is every good reason for supposing that when Consul Dabney wrote that “near four hundred men were in the boats when the attack commenced,” he was not only entirely sincere but reasonably accurate. If there were but thirty men to the boat there were three hundred and sixty in the entire flotilla of twelve, and that is “near four hundred.” Let any reader look up the stories of boat actions and then say whether even thirty-five is too large an estimate for the average number of men in a boat’s crew.

Allen says that the “neutrality of the port having been violated by the American captain in firing on a boat from the Plantagenet,” an attack was planned. The consul says Reid fired only when four boats dashed at the Yankee schooner. In view of the omissions in the British account we would be justified in believing the candid consul rather than Allen, but here, fortunately, we have the testimony of the enemy to prove that they were the aggressors, for not only did the British admit to the Portuguese that the British ships had violated the neutrality of Fayal; they made an ample apology and they paid for damages done.

To complete the story of the Armstrong it must be told that after the British were beaten off the Americans remained on guard. They had lost but two killed and seven wounded, and although a few had fled on shore there were enough left to meet another attack of the kind repelled. At 3 o’clock in the morning of the 27th Captain Reid was called ashore by Consul Dabney, and there he learned that the Portuguese Governor had sent a note to Captain Lloyd begging that hostilities cease, but Lloyd had replied that he was determined to have the privateer at the risk of knocking down the whole town.

All hope of saving the Yankee schooner was gone, and the wounded were sent ashore with the effects of the entire crew. The British brig came in at daylight and began to fire broadsides. The crew of the Yankee schooner fired back for a time, but eventually scuttled and abandoned her. Seeing that she was abandoned the British came on board hastily and set her on fire. The Yankee crew having escaped on shore, Captain Lloyd addressed an official letter to the Governor stating that in the American crew were two men who had deserted from his squadron in America, and as they were guilty of high treason, he required them to be found and given up. Accordingly the Portuguese soldiers mustered the entire American crew and compelled them to submit to an examination by the British officers. No British deserters were found. It is to the credit of the British historian Allen that he did not mention this act of Lloyd.

It is worth noting here, that Captain Lloyd’s squadron were bound to the Mississippi River—they were a part of the force sent on the land-grabbing expedition which the British Government planned and tried to execute while the negotiations for peace were under consideration at Ghent.

Captain Reid returned home by the way of Savannah. He was everywhere enthusiastically received for his heroic defence of the flag. The State of New York gave him a vote of thanks and a sword. The merchants of New York gave him a set of silver plate.

Samuel Chester Reid was a native of Norwich, Connecticut. He had seen service as a midshipman under Truxton. He was after this fight a sailing-master in the American navy, where his record for honor was as high as that of any man. There was absolutely no reason for doubting his report of his fight; in fact, it was modest and well within the facts as became a sea hero. Besides, it was fully corroborated by Consul Dabney and, as shown here, by the unwilling testimony of the enemy. He was at one time a port warden at New York and afterward Collector of the Port. It was he who originated the present scheme of arranging the stars and the stripes in the American flag, whereby the stripes number thirteen and the stars are of the same number as the States. Resolutions of thanks to him were passed in both houses on April 4, 1818, “for having designed and formed the present flag of the United States.” He died in New York City on April 28, 1861, and was buried in Greenwood.

When Lieutenant (afterward the famous Captain) Isaac Hull during the French war cut the schooner Sandwich out of Puerta Plata, a neutral port, the American Government returned the vessel with apologies. An American reads this with the greater satisfaction when he recalls the fact that British historians defend their Government for refusing to undo the wrong done to the owners of the Armstrong.

Of a character like that of the Armstrong was the fight made by the crew of one other New York privateer, the Prince de Neufchâtel, Captain J. Ordronaux. It was made on October 11, 1814. A famous privateer was this swift cruiser, and lucky in the extreme. She was credited with bringing in eighteen prizes all told, and in the cruise during which she made the fight, she brought in no less than $300,000 worth of goods, besides a large quantity of coin. Moreover she had been chased by and had escaped from seventeen armed British vessels, when on October 11th, being off Nantucket at the time, the British frigate Endymion, of which something will be told further on, came in chase of her. She would have outsailed the Endymion had the wind held, but a dead flat calm came on and neither ship could move.

At this the Endymion hoisted out five boats, large and small, and manned them with one hundred and eleven men. This was a most serious menace to the Yankee, for she had sent in so many prizes that only forty of her crew, at most (accounts differ—Coggeshall says thirty-three), including every one, remained. Nevertheless the Yankees triced up their nettings and prepared to fight it out. It was at about 9 o’clock at night that the boats arrived beside the privateer. They had spread out so that one came on each bow, one on each beam, and one astern. But the Yankee crew were ready, and when the British climbed up they were beaten back, and at the end of twenty minutes the British begged for quarter. One of their large boats, with forty-three men in it, had sunk. Another that had contained thirty-six men, surrendered, while the others drifted off with very few, indeed, to man the oars. Of the thirty-six originally in the boat that surrendered, eight had been killed and twenty wounded—twenty-eight out of thirty-six—say three-fourths. It is not unlikely that more than three-fourths of the entire attacking party were killed and wounded. Allen admits that the loss was twenty-eight killed and thirty-seven wounded out of the crews of the boats that returned to the ship. He makes no statement regarding the number lost either by wounds or as prisoners in the launch captured, but admits the capture. The killed and wounded in the launch should be added to the numbers given by Allen, so that the total British loss was at least thirty-six killed and fifty-seven wounded.

The privateer lost seven killed and fifteen badly and nine slightly wounded—all but nine of those on board were hurt. It was a right desperate fight on both sides. And it shows what a few men can do when they fight with relentless determination. “The privateersmen gained the victory by sheer ability to stand punishment.”

Meantime, when the battle began there were almost as many prisoners on board the privateers as there were Americans; when it was over the unhurt Americans had six times their number of the enemy to care for, besides nursing their own wounded. Yet they brought all safely into port.

The Lottery, Captain Southcombe, of Baltimore, fought off for an hour nine British barges containing two hundred and forty well-armed men before she was taken, and the loss of the British in killed alone was many more than the whole crew of the Yankee.

And a right brave action was that which Captain Boyle, of the Baltimore clipper Chasseur, made with the British war-schooner, St. Lawrence. Boyle ran down on the St. Lawrence by mistake. He thought her a merchantman. But when alongside he fought it out, and in just fifteen minutes from the firing of the first gun the enemy’s flag came down. This was extraordinary for two reasons. The enemy was a regular man-o’-war, and she was also of superior force. The enemy carried twelve short twelves and one long nine. Boyle at this time had six long twelves and eight short nines, but having no nine-pound shot he used a four-pound and a six-pound shot together. It was a fight yard-arm to yard-arm, so that the enemy’s broadside of eighty-one pounds was better than Boyle’s of seventy-six, even though Boyle could fire three long twelves. Accounts differ as to the number of men engaged. Boyle had eighty all told. He said he took out of the St. Lawrence eighty-nine besides passengers. Since no one but James disputes this there is no reason for doubting Boyle. James understates the number of the British crew because they struck when the privateersmen were boarding. The Yankee lost five killed and eight wounded; the British six killed and seventeen wounded.

The fights herein recorded were the most famous made by the privateers of this war. The sea militia were on these occasions well led, and therefore as brave as regular naval seamen. A careful study of the fights of this kind shows that in the majority of the cases where a privateer was attacked by a British man-o’-war crew the privateer surrendered militia fashion—tamely. But where the officers were men of sound nerves the fight was as desperate and about as well conducted as any naval fight involving the same forces. The fact that the Yankee privateers in this war took and destroyed or sent in about 1,600 British ships, including a considerable number of small war-ships, while the total number of Yankee ships taken by the British was only five hundred—this fact is significant. The total number of Yankee privateers was two hundred and fifty. Their record on the whole was so good that the fame of their deeds helped to preserve the peace of their country long after their timbers had rotted away; and it still helps.