Bainbridge, his ship needing repairs after a long period of service which had begun before the war, sailed from Bahia on January 6, 1813, and reached Boston February 27th, having been absent 119 days. The Hornet had been left at Bahia observing the Bonne Citoyenne, but the arrival of the Montagu, 74, relieved the captain of the British sloop-of-war from risking his ship and treasure. The Hornet, on the Montagu’s arrival, put to sea late in the evening unmolested.
The war had now lasted six months, and instead of the little American navy being swept from the sea, it had been a David to smite a Goliath. The capture of three British frigates in the three successive combats stirred Britain to the quick. Said the Pilot of London: “Five hundred merchantmen [taken] and three frigates! Can this be true? Will the English people read this unmoved? Any man who foretold such disasters this day last year would have been treated as a madman or a traitor. He would have been told that ere seven months had gone the American flag would have been swept from the ocean, the American navy destroyed, and the maritime arsenals of the United States reduced to ashes. Yet not one of the American frigates has struck. They leave their ports when they choose, and return when it suits their convenience. They cross the Atlantic, they visit the West Indies, they come to the chops of the Channel, they parade along the coast of South America. Nothing chases them; nothing intercepts them—nay, nothing engages them but to yield in triumph.”[33]
CHAPTER XVI
The British force on our own coast was now, in 1813, much increased. Particular attention was paid to the approaches of New York and to the Chesapeake, which latter region was devastated. Destruction was carried on under the general orders of the British Admiralty to “destroy and lay waste all towns and districts of the United States found accessive to the attacks of the British armaments.” Hampton, in Virginia, was thus sacked with a brutality which even the very prejudiced British historian, James, called “revolting to human nature.”
On February 24th the Hornet, which we left taking leave of the Montagu, 74, at Bahia, was on January 24th off Demarara. A brig, the Espiegle, was inside the bar; another, standing in for the port, was the Peacock. She was ready to engage, and at 5:25 P.M. action opened; fourteen minutes later the Peacock was a prize and sinking. The two vessels were equal in size and nearly equal in men, the Hornet having aboard 135 to the Peacock’s 122. The Hornet was superior in so far as carrying 32-pound carronades to the Peacock’s 24’s; but weight of shot made no difference for the Peacock’s guns did scarcely any damage. Lawrence, overcrowded with prisoners, returned to the United States, anchoring at Holmes Hole on March 19th. Less than three months later he was to die a defeated man, aboard the Chesapeake, the victim of rashness and over-confidence.
The Chesapeake, throughout her career an ill-omened ship, had made a cruise under Captain Evans, leaving Boston December 13, 1812, and returning there April 9, 1813, having captured five merchantmen. The term of enlistment of the crew was up, and there being a difficulty over prize money, most of the men refused to enlist. Captain Evans on account of ill-health gave up the command, and Lawrence was appointed in his stead. He joined about the middle of May; he left Boston Harbor to fight the Shannon a fortnight later. Thus in two weeks he had to get new officers and a new crew together and prepare for sea. As for target practice, or for even the ordinary “shaking down,” there was no opportunity whatever. So new were some of the men to their ship “that the last draft that arrived still had their hammocks and bags lying in the boats stowed over the booms when the ship was captured.”[34] Privateering had now risen to such prominence that the same difficulties were experienced as to men as in the times of the Revolution, when it was often impossible to man the ships of the navy on account of the attractions which the other and freer service offered. As a consequence a large number of foreigners had to be taken, including some forty British and a number of Portuguese, these latter in the best circumstances being what one would not select from choice. In this case they were particularly troublesome, a Portuguese boatswain’s mate being the ringleader in what became almost a mutiny on account of a question of prize money. The first lieutenant, Page, was ill ashore; he was replaced by a young lieutenant, Ludlow, who had been third on the Chesapeake’s last cruise; the third and fourth were only midshipmen with acting appointments. To go to sea thus and fight a battle with a ship which had been in commission six and a half years, under a particularly able captain, was simple madness. But this, driven by over-confidence and perhaps an over-desire for distinction, is what Lawrence did.
Captain Philip Bowes Vere Broke, to give him his full name, had commissioned the Shannon, a new ship, on September 14, 1806. He was sui generis in his own service, for he carried on target practice twice a week, whereas the usual custom in the British navy of the time was once a year; his guns were furnished with sights, which was also unusual, and he was a kindly captain with the good-will of his crew, likewise unusual in those days of free use of the cat.
The two ships, without going into detail, were practically of equal force, each carrying 52 guns. The Chesapeake had 379 men; the Shannon 330, 30 of whom were new hands. The Shannon had been off Boston for some time, when on June 1st Broke sent a letter to Lawrence challenging him to meet the Shannon later at a given point. It is a great pity that this failed to reach Lawrence in time.
On May 31st the Chesapeake dropped down to the lower bay; the men were stationed at the guns and were exercised at the battery. On June 1st, a little after midday, she stood to sea under all sails, even to studding sails. The Shannon stood off shore under easy sail until about eighteen miles from Boston Light, where she awaited her foe, which had now also reduced her canvas.
There is no need to go into the manœuvres, which can be found in many books. Lawrence brought his ship so close that both vessels suffered severely. He was soon mortally wounded and the sailing master (who looked after the handling of the ship under the captain’s orders) was killed. The two most important officers were thus removed early in the action. A heavy explosion occurred in the Chesapeake, probably by the ignition of cartridges lying on the deck. At six o’clock the two ships came together, the Shannon’s anchor catching in one of the after ports of the Chesapeake. Broke now ordered “away boarders.” The Chesapeake’s first lieutenant, Ludlow, received a wound of which later he died. Cox, the third lieutenant, coming up from the main deck, was so unmanned by the conditions of things that he turned and ran below, an act for which he was later court-martialled and dismissed from the service. As Broke came aboard heading some twenty men, the only opposition that could be offered at the moment came from the nine marines, all that were left unhurt of forty-four. Their commander, Broom, and a corporal, were dead, and both sergeants were wounded. The only officer there at the moment was the chaplain, Livermore, who fired his pistol at Broke, and himself was severely wounded, in return, by a sword cut from Broke. The large number of mercenaries aboard had run below. Lieutenant George Budd, stationed on the main deck, now ran up, followed by some dozen men, and attacked the boarders, killing the purser, Aldham, and the captain’s clerk, Drum, but Budd was soon wounded and knocked down the main hatchway. The wounded Ludlow struggled to the spar deck, and received another wound. Broke himself showed brilliant courage in leading his men and was severely wounded. Just fifteen minutes after the action began, the Chesapeake’s colors were hauled down. “Of her 379 men, 61 were killed or mortally wounded, including her captain, first and fourth lieutenants, the lieutenant commanding the marines, the master, boatswain, and three midshipmen; 85 were wounded more or less severely, including both her other lieutenants, five midshipmen, and the chaplain; total, 148; the loss falling entirely upon the American portion of the crew. Of the Shannon’s men, 33 were killed outright or died of their wounds, including her first lieutenant, purser, captain’s clerk, and one midshipman, and 50 were wounded, including the captain and boatswain; total, 83.”[35]