CHAPTER XVIII. NAVAL BATTLES OF 1814.
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.
On the 29th of April the American sloop-of-war Peacock, carrying eighteen guns and commanded by Captain Lewis Warrington, was cruising off the coast of Florida when she sighted the British brig-of-war Epervier, eighteen guns, convoying three merchantmen. The two men-of-war hauled up for action, and after a battle of forty-two minutes the English flag was struck. The Epervier had lost twenty-two men killed or wounded, her rigging was badly cut up, and there was five feet of water in the hold, more than forty shot having entered her hull. The Peacock, which was much heavier than her antagonist, had received very little injury, and but two of her crew were wounded. The prize had $118,000 in specie on board. Soon after this the Peacock cruised in the Bay of Biscay and along the coast of Portugal, and captured fourteen merchantmen.
Captain Johnston Blakeley, in the Wasp, a sister ship to the Peacock, sailed from Portsmouth, N. H., for a cruise in the chops of the English Channel. At daylight on the 28th of June he sighted two sail on the lee beam and one on the weather beam. Avoiding the former, he made for the latter, which proved to be the British brig Reindeer, of eighteen guns. There was considerable manoeuvring for the weather-gauge, but the Englishman succeeded in keeping it, and by three o'clock had come within sixty yards. At that short distance she had five shots at the Wasp, with a shifting carronade, firing round shot and grape, before the Wasp could bring a single gun to bear on her. But Blakeley then made a half-board, and by firing from aft forward finally brought every gun into use. This was too heavy for the Reindeer, and she ran into the Wasp and attempted to board, her crew being led by Captain Manners in person. But every attempt was repelled by the crew of the Wasp, and when Captain Blakeley ordered them in turn to board the enemy, they were on her deck and the British flag was hauled down in one minute. The whole action had lasted but half an hour. The Reindeer had lost twenty-five killed, including her captain, and forty-two wounded; the Wasp, five killed and twenty-two wounded. The upper half of the hull of the Reindeer was a complete wreck, and she had to be burned. A few weeks later, September 1st, the Wasp, after making three prizes, discovered four sail and bore up for the most weatherly of them. Between nine and ten o'clock at night the two ships came close together, and broadsides were exchanged till the enemy became silent. Blakeley hailed, and was answered that she surrendered. She was the British brig Avon, of eighteen guns. But before the Americans had taken possession of her, another British man-of-war came up. The Wasp made ready to engage her; but before she could do so, two others appeared, and she then put up her helm and ran off before the wind. It was afterward learned that the Avon had sunk, and her consort with difficulty rescued the survivors of her crew. In the next twenty days the Wasp took three prizes, and then, continuing her cruise, was never heard from again.
One of the bloodiest sea-fights of this year took place in the harbor of Fayal, Azores. The American privateer General Armstrong, carrying fourteen guns and ninety men, commanded by Captain Samuel C. Reid, put in there for water on the 26th of September. A few hours later, three British war-vessels—the Plantagenet, Carnation, and Rota—entered the harbor. It was a neutral port, but they cared no more for its neutrality than Hillyar had cared for that of Valparaiso.
In the evening, under a full moon, four armed boats were sent from these vessels to cut out the privateer. As they approached her, they were warned off several times, but paid no attention to it, and attempted to board. Reid then opened fire on them, and drove them off with heavy loss. For greater security, the Armstrong was hauled up close to the fort, and moored. The Governor remonstrated with Captain Van Lloyd, commander of the English fleet; to which the captain answered that he was determined to destroy the privateer, and if the fort protected her he would bombard the town till not a house was left standing.
At midnight the Armstrong was attacked again, this time by fourteen launches, each carrying about fifty men. Reid promptly opened his broadside on them, with terrible effect; yet two or three of them succeeded in reaching the vessel, and the crew then met them with cutlass and pistol, and scarcely a man in them was left alive. A letter written from Fayal at the time, by an Englishman, says the officers in charge of the boats cheered on their men with a shout of "No quarter!" and that "the Americans fought with great firmness, but more like bloodthirsty savages than anything else. They rushed into the boats, sword in hand, and put every soul to death, as far as came within their power. Several boats floated on shore, full of dead bodies."
Next morning, the Carnation sailed in and engaged the Armstrong; but after a short action she was badly cut up and obliged to haul off for repairs. Several guns on the Armstrong had been dismounted; and as Captain Reid now saw that her ultimate destruction was certain, he cut away her masts, blew a hole in her bottom, and went ashore with his men. Two of the crew had been killed, and seven wounded. The ascertained loss of the British was one hundred and twenty killed and ninety wounded.
After burning the abandoned wreck, Van Lloyd demanded of the Governor that the gallant little crew he had failed to capture should be given up to him as prisoners. This modest request was of course refused, and Captain Reid and his men then took possession of an old convent, declaring that they would defend themselves to the last. But they were not molested.
The vessel that was despatched to England to take home the British sailors wounded in this action, was not permitted to carry a single letter from anybody. Indeed, not only this affair, says Cobbett in his "Letters," but the loss of the Avon, the battle of Plattsburg, and other actions not creditable to the English arms, were carefully concealed from the English public. At the demand of Portugal, the British Government apologized for the violation of neutrality; but the owners of the Armstrong never obtained any indemnity.
This was the last naval action before the declaration of peace; but as that declaration did not immediately reach the cruisers at sea, three others were fought. On the 15th of January, 1815, Commodore Decatur, in the President, had a prolonged battle with the frigate Endymion, off Long Island, and reduced her to a wreck. But two other British cruisers came up, and he was compelled to surrender.
He had lost eighty men killed or wounded. On the 20th of February, the Constitution, Captain Charles Stewart, off the coast of Portugal, captured both the Cyane, of thirty-four guns, and the Levant, of twenty-one, after a battle of forty minutes, in which he lost fifteen men, and inflicted a loss of about forty. The Levant was subsequently recaptured by three English cruisers, while she was in Port Praya, another neutral harbor. On the 23d of March, the American brig Hornet, Captain James Biddle, and the British brig Penguin, Captain Dickenson, being almost exactly matched in men and metal, fought a battle of twenty-two minutes' duration, off the island of Tristan d'Acunha, at the close of which the Penguin, having lost forty-two men and been badly crippled, surrendered. Her commander was killed. The Hornet had one man killed and ten wounded. This was the last of what the London Times had fallen into the habit of calling "the painful events at sea."