CHAPTER XXIII.
During the war of 1812, as in that of the Revolution, the government of the United States issued “letters of marque,” giving authority to private individuals to build, arm, and man vessels, for the purpose of making reprisals upon and destroying the enemy’s commerce. While these “privateers,” as they were called, were entirely outside of and unconnected with the regular naval force of the country, they became one of the most potent weapons wielded on the high seas in behalf of the government. Their destructiveness to English commerce made them the dread of the ocean, for the daring men who engaged in privateering enterprises were the best shipmasters and seamen of their day, perfectly familiar with all coast ports and the highways of the sea, so they knew where to strike most effectively for their own advantage. A vessel captured under the English flag, became, with her cargo, the lawful prize of her captors, and the proceeds of sale were divided under established rules among the owners, officers and men of the privateer, the business in many instances being very profitable. The English commercial vessels likewise armed for defence, and quite often there were spirited engagements before the English Jack would be lowered to the Stars and Stripes flown by some saucy, fast sailing Yankee brig, or long, low, rakish schooner of the Baltimore clipper type.
France being friendly to the United States, her ports were open to our privateers and their prizes, so the English channel itself, right under the nose, of Great Britain, was a tempting cruising ground where our letters of marque made many a successful venture and some of them came to grief in capture by the English men-of-war.
As has been previously said in this series of reminiscences, Plymouth had her full number of adventurous spirits, and her “men of the sea” on board the many privateers, sailing from southern and northern ports. On two vessels, however, the “Leo” and the “George Little,” fitted at Boston, the crews were largely made up of Plymouth men, so they may be regarded as the “Plymouth privateers” of 1812. Of the “Leo’s” career we have no detailed knowledge, but it has been told us that Captain Harvey Weston, Captain Robert Hutchinson, Captain John Chase, Captain Nat Bartlett and others from this town whose names are not known, were members of her company, and that she took several prizes before she herself was forced to surrender over on the English coast. Her men were imprisoned for the rest of the war period, some of them being sent to the horrible Dartmoor prison of England, of which history says that the dreadful tales of suffering and death in the “black hole” and massacre by the guards are all too truthful, but the “Leo’s” men were not there when the prison was at its very worst.
The “George Little” was a smart hermaphrodite brig, mounting ten guns and a “chaser,” and was owned and fitted at Boston. Her commander was Captain Nathaniel Spooner; first lieutenant, Captain Samuel Doten; second lieutenant, William Holmes, and third lieutenant, — Turner, all of Plymouth. The crew list contained the names of many of our townsmen, but as it was not preserved, only those of Jacob Morton, William Hammatt and William Stacy are now remembered. A private log book of the voyage was kept by first lieutenant Doten, and is now in possession of his son, Captain Charles C. Doten, the first entry being: Monday, December 26, 1814, at 2 p. m., passed Boston light, fresh gale, north by east, and extreme cold. At 3 p. m. chased by one of His Majesty’s gun brigs, and outsailed her with ease.
At that time there was a fleet of British men-of-war cruising along the American coast from Maine to Virginia, several frigates and gun brigs making rendezvous at Provincetown, and often coming over near the Gurnet, thence running up off Boston and along the Cape Ann shore. It was from one of these brigs that the “George Little” so easily escaped and got to sea. The log has daily entries, that of January 7, 1815, recording that William Stacy fell from the top gallant mast head, sending down royal yard, by the royal mast pitch poling, and was saved on topsail yard.” “January 12, at 6.25 a. m., made a sail four leagues away, and set chase. At 11.30 she fired a lee gun—11.40 fired another, and set English colors—11.55, seeing American colors she fired her stern chasers in good direction for us, but without effect, they falling short, and in a moment struck. Proved to be the ship “Mary,” six guns and eighteen men, James Bags, master, from New Foundland with fish for Lisbon. 13th took some articles from the prize, put Mr. Turner and nine men on board, and ordered her to proceed for first port in the United States.”
It may here be stated that the “Mary” arrived safely at Marblehead, where with her cargo she was sold, yielding to the “George Little’s” owners and men a good amount of prize money. The “Mary’s” crew, being two to one of the “Little’s” men put on board, attempted to retake her, but after a severe fight were driven below, and Jacob Morton of Plymouth, who was a powerful man, drew the companion slide over them, and upon it placed a large anchor, lifting alone the weight which two ordinary men would have found a test of their strength.
The “George Little” held on her course across the ocean, intending to cruise in the English channel and take her prizes, if any were there secured, into French ports. Off the Azores or Western Islands, January 21st and 22d, she chased a vessel but lost her. January 28 she overhauled the Prussian schooner “Ferwarhting,” from St. Michael’s for Hamburg with fruit, and put Captain Bags, his son and mate of the “Mary” on board.
“February 2 overhauled Prussian brig, “Ann Elizabeth,” from London to St. Michael’s, in ballast. Put four prisoners on board and ordered her to proceed. Lost both boats boarding, but saved all the men.”
February 4th and 5th the privateer brig was in chase of a sloop, which escaped in the darkness of the second night, and the next day the “George Little” met her own fate, the log reading as follows: “February 6, made a sail on our lee bow, which gave chase at 8.30. Bore away, made all sail, supposing her to be a frigate. At 9 she fired her bow chaser, which fell short. At 10 her shot went over us. At 11.30, finding no means of escape, we reluctantly struck our colors to His Majesty’s ship “Granicus” of 36 guns, Captain William Furlong Wise. So was lost the “George Little,” in my opinion for the want of those necessaries to induce one and all to do their best to save her, as we were short of bread, beef—poor rum—generally spirits sunk—this is the effect of too much economy privateering. So ends these 24 hours, rainy, and overpowering all with heavy hearts.”
The closing remarks above would indicate that the owners of the “George Little” had not been liberal in fitting out the vessel, and in consequence some discontent had existed on board. The “Granicus” took the prisoners to Gibraltar, where they were placed with others on hulks anchored in the harbor, and kept during March. On the 26th of that month “His Majesty’s ship Eurylaus from the Chesapeake, arrived with news of the ratification of peace between the United States and Great Britain,” and on the 29th the prisoners were embarked for England in the “Eurylaus,” arriving at Plymouth April 16th. Captain Doten’s memorandum becomes personal after that date, and relates that on the 17th he was sent on board the “Ganges” 74, and on the 21st “had intelligence of the arrival of the Mary at Marblehead, by an American paper of February 24.” April 24, he says he “obtained permission to go on shore from the Ganges,” and May 3d, “smuggled myself on board the ‘Royal Sovereign,’ Captain Spence, bound to Boston as a cartel”—a vessel commissioned to exchange prisoners. The “Royal Sovereign” had 400 prisoners, and as she was coming direct to Boston, Captain Doten, not being included in the list, took his chances as a stowaway. The vessel sailed from Plymouth, England, May 4th, and arrived in Boston after a passage of 35 days. In crossing the Grand Banks the schooner “Almira” of Provincetown was spoken, 25 days from home, with 10,000 fish.
A personal expense account appended to Captain Doten’s journal of the “George Little’s” cruise shows that at Gibraltar he spent $51.25, among the items being $15.25 for provisions, and $1.00 for liquor, a proportion which certainly was very moderate for those days. On board the “Ganges” his expenses were $14.95, and at Plymouth, $105.63, mostly for clothing, and passage home. The latter, seven pounds, was probably paid to Captain Spence for not finding him on board until the “Royal Sovereign” was at sea. The total of $171.83 paid out on account of capture, was recouped with a fair margin of profit from his share of the prize money of the “Mary.”
The lack of facilities for quick transmission of news at that time, is strikingly illustrated by the fact that the treaty to end the war was signed at Ghent, December 24, 1814, two days before the “George Little” sailed from Boston, so her entire cruise was made in a period of unknown peace. The battle of New Orleans, in which the British were defeated with a loss of 2,000 men, including the death of their commanding general, Edward Pakenham, was fought January 8, 1815, two weeks after the agreement on articles of peace, which at the present time would have been known all over the world within a few minutes of their adoption.
It was a custom for old shipmasters and seamen, after their seafaring days were over, occasionally to meet in Captain Doten’s counting room at the head of what is now Captain E. B. Atwood’s wharf, and while a wild northeaster howled outside they would toast their shins at a good fire, smoke their pipes, and spin yarns of privateering days, or their experiences in various voyages to the West Indies or ports across the ocean. There could be no keener enjoyment to those of younger generations than to sit while all was blue about them from the tobacco exhalations, and listen to these “tales of the sea” from men who were veritable actors in the scenes so vividly recalled. Two incidents pertaining to Captain Doten’s cruise in the “George Little,” as her first lieutenant, thus came out, not written in his journal. When at the time of her capture by the “Granicus” the American flag was hauled down on the “George Little,” Lieutenant Doten was not only chagrined, but wrathy, and swore that he wouldn’t surrender his sword to any Englishman, so he broke it across his knee. The boarding officer from the “Granicus” on finding him without side arms to give up, at once declared him not entitled to consideration, and ordered him ironed. This was done, and in that condition, with Captain Spooner, he was taken to the “Granicus.” To the great surprise of the boarding officer who had thus thought to humiliate him, he was greeted by Captain Wise of the frigate as he stepped on the deck with, “Hallo, Sam! what have you got those on for?” “Because I was a fool and broke my sword,” was the response, at which Captain Wise laughed and called the master-at-arms to relieve him of the “bracelets,” bidding him go to the private cabin. There Captain Wise soon joined him, and over a bottle of the best, they renewed the acquaintance of some years before, when Captain Doten, then master of the brig “Dragon” of Plymouth, Mass., had sailed for three years in succession under convoy of Captain Wise, engaged in carrying naval stores up the Baltic from Plymouth, England, the “Dragon” having been chartered by the British government among other merchant vessels for that purpose. This service brought Captain Doten into quite intimate relations with many of the English naval officers, so that when he was a prisoner at Gibraltar, he was allowed many privileges. Among these was shore going almost daily, and passage through the batteries to the top of the Rock, where he could spend the time more agreeably than on the prison hulk. One day in going up he found Lieutenant Daly, who was in charge of one of the batteries, unshotting the guns, and was told by him that some ships in the offing were from America and signalled that the British had won a great victory, in honor of which he was ordered to fire a salute when the details were known. Much depressed in spirits, Captain Doten listened during the day for the salute, but it was not fired. Returning in the afternoon, Daly was then engaged in reshotting the guns, and explained that when the ships got nearer, the fortress had learned that there indeed had been a great battle “at a place called New Orleans,” but it had resulted in a tremendous defeat for the British arms, and General Pakenham had been “sent home in a hogshead of rum.” Daly—who of course was an Irishman—added at a low breath, “and I’m glad of it.” Captain Doten told the great news to his fellow prisoners on the hulk, and that night after they had been confined below the gratings one of their number, a ship carpenter, who had located where a barrel of beer rested on the deck, bored up through the planks and bilge of the cask, inserting an improvised tube or pipe, and drew off the contents. Of course a great deal ran to waste, but enough was secured to make all hands feel mighty “merry,” and they hilariously celebrated the victory of New Orleans, taunting the guard so outrageously, singing “Yankee Doodle,” and bandying epithets, that they were only partially quieted by the gratings being removed, the guard drawn up around the hatchways with muskets pointed down into the crowd, and the threat made to fire if the disturbance did not cease. Undoubtedly there would have been shooting, but the English officers had heard rumors of peace, and under such circumstances the killing of unarmed prisoners would have been deemed murder. They “made a night of it,” and the next day, when the loss of the beer was discovered, the cause of their high spirits was explained, while the shrewd manner in which they had obtained the liquid for the jollification, was characterized by the commander of the hulk, as “another d—d smart Yankee trick.”
During the passage of the Royal Sovereign bringing home 400 prisoners, she was caught in a heavy gale near the Grand Banks, but Captain Spence, her commander, was a good seaman, and made a safe arrival at Boston.