CAPTAIN JAMES LAWRENCE.
The two earliest actions of importance in the year 1813, though nearly six months apart in time, belong together, for they form the two great events in the career of one of our bravest officers; and unless I am much mistaken, the second of these events, which ended so tragically in defeat and death, was in great measure a consequence and outcome of the first. All our captains who were actively engaged during the first months of the war had carried out their enterprises gallantly, but still with discretion and circumspection, as became them in fighting against the greatest naval power in the world; but Lawrence, borne beyond the bounds of prudence by one brilliant success, risked most where the danger was greatest, and so came to an untimely end.
We left the "Hornet" in December, 1812, blockading the "Bonne Citoyenne" at San Salvador, where Bainbridge and Lawrence had found her. As she was just equal to the "Hornet" in force,—what little difference there was being in favor of the Englishman,—Captain Lawrence, according to the gallant fashion of those days, sent a challenge to Captain Greene, who commanded the "Bonne Citoyenne," proposing a fight between the two sloops. He gave his pledge, in which Commodore Bainbridge joined, that the "Constitution" should not interfere, in order that it might be an equal match, where skill and pluck alone should decide the battle. Such a thing is hardly likely to happen now, when war is carried on so much more with an eye to business; but at that time a battle between two well-matched ships was looked on as a sort of tournament,—a rough kind of play perhaps, but still little more than a game where men went in to win as much for the sake of the sport as for the real earnest. It had this of good about it, that it made men look upon their enemies in some sort as friendly rivals, and it took away part of the bitterness which war engenders.
JAMES LAWRENCE.
Of this generous and chivalric spirit no man had more than Lawrence, and it was a deep disappointment to him when Captain Greene refused to accept his challenge. Here is what the Englishman's letter said:—
"I am convinced, sir, if such rencontre were to take place, the result could not be long dubious, and would terminate favorably to the ship which I have the honor to command; but I am equally convinced that Commodore Bainbridge could not swerve so much from the paramount duty he owes to his country, as to become an inactive spectator, and see a ship belonging to the very squadron under his orders fall into the hands of an enemy. This reason operates powerfully on my mind for not exposing the 'Bonne Citoyenne' to a risk upon terms so manifestly disadvantageous as those proposed by Commodore Bainbridge. Indeed, nothing could give me greater pleasure than complying with the wishes of Captain Lawrence; and I earnestly hope that chance will afford him an opportunity of meeting the 'Bonne Citoyenne' under different circumstances, to enable him to distinguish himself in the manner he is now so desirous of doing."
How little Captain Greene meant of these bold professions, and how small was the confidence he really had in his pretension that the result would be favorable to him, was shown soon after; for on the 6th of January the "Constitution" sailed for home, leaving the "Hornet" alone before the port. Here she remained until the 24th, nearly three weeks, waiting for the "Bonne Citoyenne" to redeem her captain's promise. At length the "Montague," a seventy-four which had sailed from Rio on purpose to relieve the English sloop, hove in sight, and chased the "Hornet" into the harbor, where she was safe for the moment in neutral waters. But Lawrence placed no great reliance upon such protection, for he knew that naval officers under strong temptation did not always show a due respect for neutral territory; and in the night he wore ship and stood out to the southward, thus eluding the enemy. In this way the "Bonne Citoyenne" got safely off; but the "Hornet" got off too, although a seventy-four had come out for the purpose of capturing her.
After leaving San Salvador the "Hornet" cruised off Surinam and the neighboring coasts. On the 24th of February, at the entrance of the Demerara River, she discovered an English brig-of-war, the "Espiègle," at anchor outside the bar. Lawrence was forced to beat around Carobano Bank in order to get at her; and while thus manœuvering, about the middle of the afternoon he discovered another brig edging down for him. Soon the stranger hoisted English colors, and Lawrence beat to quarters and cleared ship for action, keeping close by the wind in order to get the weather-gage. The new enemy was the brig "Peacock," under Capt. William Peake. It was nearly half-past five when the two ships passed each other and exchanged broadsides at half-pistol shot. As the "Peacock" was endeavoring to get about, Lawrence bore up, and running close up to her on the starboard quarter, began that furious and well-aimed cannonade which nothing in this war had thus far been able to withstand. In fifteen minutes the enemy's ship was riddled,—literally cut to pieces; her captain, Peake, was killed, and the lieutenant who took his place, seeing that he could hold out no longer, surrendered. Immediately after, the ensign was hoisted union down in the fore-rigging as a signal of distress, and presently the mainmast fell.
Lieutenant Shubrick was sent on board the prize, and reported that she had six feet of water already in her hold. No time was to be lost, for she was sinking fast. The two ships came to anchor, and boats were hurriedly lowered and sent to rescue the prisoners, and first of all the wounded. Some of the shot-holes were plugged, the guns were thrown overboard, and everything was done to lighten the ship, by pumping and bailing her out, so that she might float until the men could be taken off. But it was too late; the water was rising higher and higher, and in a few brief moments the brig went down, carrying with her several of the crew and three of the American blue-jackets who were trying to save them. The rest of the "Hornet's" people who were still on board only saved themselves by jumping to a boat that swung at the stern; and four of the enemy, who succeeded in climbing up to the foretop, clung there till they were taken off by the Americans.
The "Hornet" had but two of her crew killed, having lost more men in saving the enemy than in fighting the battle. Three others were wounded. The ship's rigging and sails were cut here and there, but her hull had not a single scar.
The "Peacock," on the other hand, was a sinking wreck; her sides showed numerous shot-holes, and she had forty casualties among her crew. The English chroniclers in their descriptions of this as well as other naval actions lay much stress upon the fact that the "Hornet" was armed with heavier carronades, carrying thirty-two's where the "Peacock" had only twenty-four's; but as some one has well said, "the weight of shot that do not hit is of no great moment." It is clear that in this fight, as in the others, it was skilful gunnery and firing low that settled the result. The "Peacock" was a smart and well-kept ship, her decks well cleaned, her bright-work spotless; in fact, so well known was Captain Peake for his attention to these small details, that his ship was called the "yacht of the navy." But polished brass-work and well-scrubbed decks are not the things that win battles, as poor Captain Peake found in that bitter quarter of an hour when he met his death and his ship was riddled till she sank.
The "Hornet" was now crowded with prisoners, and she turned her head toward home, arriving at Holmes's Hole in Martha's Vineyard some four weeks after the fight. Lawrence, always generous and true-hearted, kept a watchful eye to the comfort of his prisoners, treating them not as enemies, but as unfortunates whom the chance of war had thrown into his hands. So strongly did they feel the captain's courtesy, that upon their coming to New York the officers of the captured ship wrote him a letter, in which were these words: "So much was done to alleviate the distressing and uncomfortable situation in which we were placed when received on board the sloop you command, that we cannot better express our feelings than by saying we ceased to consider ourselves prisoners." If all officers would follow the good example of Lawrence, how much might be done to lessen the sufferings of war and soften its ferocity and bitterness!
In the following spring Lawrence was given a larger ship as a recognition of his services and merits. This ship was the "Chesapeake," which from her earliest history had been unlucky upon nearly every cruise. She was then refitting at Boston, and her former captain, Evans, having been sent on sick-leave, Lawrence was ordered to take his place, and arrived in Boston about the middle of May.
Not only was the ship an unlucky ship, which is always a bad thing among the simple-minded blue-jackets, but she was at this time in bad condition. The crew had come home from their last cruise dissatisfied; and having some dispute about their prize-money, many of them had left the ship. New hands were being shipped from day to day, but it was difficult to get good men, and several foreign sailors were taken,—some English and some Portuguese,—who showed a mutinous disposition. Some of the officers too had lately left the ship, and others less experienced had been ordered in their place. In time, no doubt, a captain like Lawrence would have made his ship's company as good as the "Hornet's" had been when she destroyed the "Peacock" so quickly and so easily; but he had orders to go to sea as soon as he could get the chance.
Outside the harbor lay one vessel of the enemy, the frigate "Shannon," commanded by Capt. Philip Broke. She was of nearly the same force as the "Chesapeake," though whatever difference there might be was in favor of the American. But discipline and training are of far greater moment than a slight difference in the number either of guns or men, as the sequel proved; and in these things Broke's ship was far superior. She had been long at sea, and most of her crew were veteran tars, whom Broke, one of the ablest of the English captains, had trained and drilled and practised until they worked like a machine.
Now it must be confessed that it was a little rash in Lawrence, who knew how far his crew was from being shipshape, and ready to meet an enemy, to go out thus hurriedly and give battle. But there were his orders, which he must obey. He did not like to say—who would have liked to say it in his place?—that his ship was not ready; for Captain Broke had sent away the other ships that had been with him so that he might give the "Chesapeake" just such a chance as Lawrence himself had given the English sloop at San Salvador, and by remaining there alone, Broke offered him a sort of challenge to come out. In fact Broke wrote a challenge, as fine and manly a letter as was ever written by a gallant officer, but it happened that Lawrence sailed before it was delivered. Besides all this, it was to be expected that Lawrence, after what he had seen of the "Peacock," and after the victories of Hull and Decatur and Bainbridge, should somewhat underrate his foe; forgetting that this time his ship, besides being of lesser force than the other American frigates, was wanting in that very quality which had insured them their success,—the discipline and training of the crew.
"ALONG THE SHORE, UPON EVERY HILL-TOP AND HEADLAND, PEOPLE HAD GATHERED."
On Tuesday morning, the 1st of June, while the "Chesapeake" was lying at anchor off Fort Independence, in Boston harbor, the "Shannon" appeared outside, evidently waiting to join battle. As soon as the enemy was seen, Lawrence fired a gun and hoisted his flag; then, after making the last preparations, when everything was ready, the anchor was hove up, and with all her studding-sails set, and colors flying at each masthead, the "Chesapeake" left President's Roads and put out to sea. Along the shore, upon every hill-top and headland, people had gathered to see the battle; but both the frigates, their great clouds of canvas filled with the light southwesterly breeze, made off to the eastward and before long were lost to view.
About the middle of the afternoon the "Shannon" hove to, to await the coming of the "Chesapeake." The latter, having already cleared for action, presently took in her top-gallant sails and royals, and hauled the courses up, and a little before six o'clock shot up alongside of the enemy. In an instant the battle has begun in all its fury. Lawrence if he desires can pass under the "Shannon's" stern and rake her, but he is confident of success, and scorns his advantage. So he turns, and pressing close along the enemy's side, receives the fire of each gun as it is brought to bear. Half the "Shannon's" cannon have been loaded with kegs of musket-balls, and at the short range these make terrible havoc, and as mischance will have it, above all among the officers. At the first fire White the sailing-master is killed, and Lawrence is wounded, but he does not leave the deck. The guns of the "Chesapeake" reply, but the raw crew are not equal to such work as is required of them in opposing Broke's well-trained gunners. Presently the helmsman is shot down, and the ship, coming up in the wind, loses headway and falls off with her stern and quarter exposed to a raking fire. The enemy makes the most of this; broadside after broadside comes pouring in, smashing in the after-ports of the "Chesapeake," and killing the men at the guns or driving them away. The slaughter among the officers goes on; the third lieutenant is killed, then the marine officer and the boatswain. A moment later and the ships are foul, the "Shannon's" anchor hooking in the quarter-port of her antagonist. The withering fire of the enemy continues,—the heavy round shot, followed, now that the ships have closed, by the rain of grape and musket-balls. Ludlow, the first lieutenant, the captain's main reliance, is twice wounded and falls; and last of all the gallant Lawrence himself, who until now has kept his post, though weak from loss of blood, receives his mortal wound and is carried below, exclaiming as he leaves the deck, "Don't give up the ship!"
It was of no use now,—this last injunction,—for there was none to heed it. The quarter-deck had been stripped of all its officers except the midshipmen, who after all were only boys, and three of whom have fallen. Lawrence, before he is carried off, orders the boarders to be summoned, but the frightened bugler cannot sound the call. The captain's aides were sent below to pass the word, but the gun's crews on the main-deck, in the confusion, fail to understand the order. On the upper deck the men, uncertain, without a leader, are flinching from their guns. Broke, from his forecastle, sees that the Americans are weakening, and calls away the men to board. His boatswain, a veteran of Rodney's fleet, lashes the ships together, and in an instant twenty of the crew, led by their captain, have leaped the rail and gained the "Chesapeake's" quarter-deck. The deck is piled with bodies, but there is no one here to make resistance. On the forecastle are gathered a fragment of the frightened crew, and against these the enemy now advances. They are in no condition to resist: a few struggle to reach the hatchway; others climb over the bow; the rest throw down their arms and call for quarter.
For a moment there is now a pause, but presently some of the men below make a rush for the deck, and the fight begins anew. It is a scene of wild confusion. The enemy is now crowding on board,—officers, marines, blue-jackets; there seems no end to their numbers. The "Chesapeake's" topmen, who as yet have taken no part in the struggle, now pick the boarders off with small arms, but they are soon driven from their stations. The two remaining lieutenants, Budd and Cox, who have meantime come up from the deck below, are both wounded. The gallant Ludlow, striving, mortally wounded as he is, to drag himself up the ladder, is cut down as he reaches the hatchway. The chaplain, Livermore, seizes a pistol and fires without effect at Broke, who in return makes one furious cut with his sword, nearly dividing his assailant's arm. The "Shannon's" first lieutenant hauls down the flag and bends an English ensign; but in the hurry he hoists it with the old colors still above, and the guns' crews, whom he has left on board his ship, suppose from this that the boarders have been defeated. So they open again, and kill their own lieutenant and several of his men. Captain Broke, urging his boarders on, is half stunned by a blow from the musket of a marine, who clubs with his gun since he cannot fire; and a sailor, following the marine, cuts down the captain, only to be himself cut down by one of the enemy. A few minutes of desperate hand-to-hand conflict with pike and pistol and cutlass, and the Americans on deck are overpowered and yield. The crew below, not daring to come up, are still making a show of resistance; but a few shots fired down the hatchway put an end to the struggle, and the "Chesapeake" is in the hands of the enemy.
In this wonderful action, which from beginning to end lasted only fifteen minutes, the "Chesapeake," out of twenty officers, lost seventeen in killed and wounded. Even had this worst of all disasters not befallen her, she might perhaps have still been captured, for as we know her crew were not prepared to fight, having had no training. But had not Lawrence and Ludlow both fallen at the critical moment when the two ships fouled, it is certain that one or the other of them would have prolonged the contest, and that the enemy's loss, large as it was, would have been larger yet. The two ships were carried into Halifax with their wounded captains still on board, but Lawrence died before he reached the shore. Captain Broke, whose wounds were not so serious, recovered, and was made a baronet for his victory, which, as neither friend nor enemy could deny, had been gallantly and bravely won. Of the officers engaged on one side or the other in that eventful battle, many were killed or died of their wounds, and nearly all who survived the fight have long since been gathered to their fathers; but it is a strange fact that the highest officer in Her Majesty's Navy to-day, the senior Admiral of the Fleet, Sir Provo Wallis, was the lieutenant who took the "Shannon" into Halifax after her bloody victory three quarters of a century ago.