June 22, 1807, while Jefferson at Washington was fuming over Chief-Justice Marshall’s subpœna, and while the grand jury at Richmond were on the point of finding their indictment against Burr, an event occurred at sea, off the entrance to Chesapeake Bay, which threw the country into violent excitement, distracting attention from Burr, and putting to a supreme test the theories of Jefferson’s statesmanship.
That the accident which then happened should not have happened long before was matter for wonder, considering the arbitrary character of British naval officers and their small regard for neutral rights. For many years the open encouragement offered to the desertion of British seamen in American ports had caused extreme annoyance to the royal navy; and nowhere had this trouble been more serious than at Norfolk. Early in 1807 a British squadron happened to be lying within the Capes watching for some French frigates which had taken refuge at Annapolis. One or more of these British ships lay occasionally in Hampton Roads, or came to the navy-yard at Gosport for necessary repairs. Desertions were of course numerous; even the American ships-of-war had much difficulty from loss of men,—and March 7 a whole boat’s crew of the British sixteen-gun sloop “Halifax” made off with the jolly-boat and escaped to Norfolk. The commander of the “Halifax” was informed that these men had enlisted in the American frigate “Chesapeake,” then under orders for the Mediterranean. He complained to the British consul and to Captain Decatur, but could get no redress. He met two of the deserters in the streets of Norfolk, and asked them why they did not return. One of them, Jenkin Ratford by name, replied, with abuse and oaths, that he was in the land of liberty and would do as he liked. The British minister at Washington also made complaint that three deserters from the “Melampus” frigate had enlisted on the “Chesapeake.” The Secretary of the Navy ordered an inquiry, which proved that the three men in question, one of whom was a negro, were in fact on board the “Chesapeake,” but that they were native Americans who had been improperly impressed by the “Melampus,” and therefore were not subjects for reclamation by the British government. The nationality was admitted, and so far as these men were concerned the answer was final; but the presence of Jenkin Ratford, an Englishman, on board the “Chesapeake” under the name of Wilson escaped notice.
The admiral in command of the British ships on the North American station was George Cranfield Berkeley, a brother of the Earl of Berkeley. To him, at Halifax, the British officers in Chesapeake Bay reported their grievances; and Admiral Berkeley, without waiting for authority from England, issued the following orders, addressed to all the ships under his command:—
“Whereas many seamen, subjects of his Britannic Majesty, and serving in his ships and vessels as per margin [“Bellona,” “Belleisle,” “Triumph,” “Chichester,” “Halifax,” “Zenobia”], while at anchor in the Chesapeake, deserted and entered on board the United States frigate called the ‘Chesapeake,’ and openly paraded the streets of Norfolk, in sight of their officers, under the American flag, protected by the magistrates of the town and the recruiting officer belonging to the above-mentioned American frigate, which magistrates and naval officer refused giving them up, although demanded by his Britannic Majesty’s consul, as well as the captains of the ships from which the said men had deserted:
“The captains and commanders of his Majesty’s ships and vessels under my command are therefore hereby required and directed, in case of meeting with the American frigate ‘Chesapeake’ at sea, and without the limits of the United States, to show to the captain of her this order, and to require to search his ship for the deserters from the before-mentioned ships, and to proceed and search for the same; and if a similar demand should be made by the American, he is to be permitted to search for any deserters from their service, according to the customs and usage of civilized nations on terms of peace and amity with each other.”
The admiral’s conception of the “customs and usage of civilized nations” did not expressly require the use of force; and any captain or commander who received this circular must at once have asked whether, in case the American captain should refuse to allow a search,—as was certain,—force should be employed. The order, dated June 1, 1807, was sent to Chesapeake Bay by the frigate “Leopard,” commanded by Captain S. P. Humphreys; and since the “Leopard” was the admiral’s flagship, Captain Humphreys was probably acquainted with the meaning of his instructions. The “Leopard” arrived at Lynnhaven on the morning of June 21; and Captain Humphreys reported his arrival and orders to Captain John Erskine Douglas of the “Bellona,” a line-of-battle ship, then lying with the “Melampus” frigate in Lynnhaven Bay, enjoying the hospitality of the American government. Apparently Captain Douglas carried verbal explanations of the order from Captain Humphreys, for he made no attempt to qualify its extremest meaning. The “Leopard” remained twenty-four hours with the “Bellona,” while the two commanders were in consultation. The next morning, June 22, at 4 A.M., the “Leopard” made sail,[1] and two hours later re-anchored a few miles to the eastward, and about three miles north of Cape Henry Lighthouse.
The “Chesapeake,” during the difficulties at Norfolk and afterward, lay in the Eastern Branch at Washington. The inefficiency of the Government in doing those duties which governments had hitherto been created to perform, was shown even more strikingly in the story of the “Chesapeake” than in the conspiracy of Burr. The frigate “Constitution” had sailed for the Mediterranean in August, 1803. The Government knew that her crew were entitled to their discharge, and that the President had no right to withhold it. The country was at peace; no emergency of any kind existed. A single ship of about one thousand tons burden needed to be fitted for sea at a date fixed three years beforehand; yet when the time came and the “Constitution” ought to have reached home, the “Chesapeake” had not so much as begun preparation. Captain James Barron was selected to command her as commodore of the Mediterranean squadron; Captain Charles Gordon—a native of the eastern shore of Maryland, the youngest master-commandant on the list—was appointed as her captain. Both were good officers and seamen; but Gordon received his orders only February 22, and could not take command until May 1,—long after he should have reached Gibraltar. Such was the inefficiency of the navy-yard at Washington that although the Secretary of the Navy had the “Chesapeake” under his eye and was most anxious to fit her out, and although Gordon fretted incessantly, making bitter complaints of delay, the frigate still remained in the mechanics’ hands until the month of May. According to Commodore Barron the Washington navy-yard was more than incompetent.[2] “I have long known,” he claimed to have written, “the perverse disposition of the rulers of that establishment.” Yet he urged Gordon to complete his outfit at Washington, because the Norfolk yard was worse.[3] “I would by no means advise your leaving the navy-yard with any unfinished work and depend on Norfolk. You will experience more difficulty and trouble than you can imagine.” As Burr’s trial showed that the army was honeycombed by incompetence and conspiracy, so Barron’s court-martial proved that nothing in naval administration could be depended upon.
For much of this, Congress and the people were responsible, and they accepted their own feebleness as the necessary consequence of a system which acted through other agencies than force; but much was also due to the Administration and to the President’s instincts, which held him aloof from direct contact with both services. Jefferson did not love the deck of a man-of-war or enjoy the sound of a boatswain’s whistle. The ocean was not his element; and his appetite for knowledge never led him to criticise the management of his frigates or his regiments so long as he could shut his eyes to their shortcomings. Thus while Wilkinson was left at his own pleasure to create or to stifle a rebellion at New Orleans, the crew of the “Constitution” were in a state of mutiny in the Mediterranean, and the officers of the “Chesapeake” were helpless under the control of the navy-yard at Washington.
At length, in the earliest days of June, Gordon dropped down the Potomac. The “Chesapeake” was to carry on this cruise an armament of forty guns,—twenty-eight 18-pounders and twelve 32-pound carronades; but owing to the shoals in the river she took but twelve guns on board at Washington, the rest waiting her arrival at Norfolk. With these twelve guns Gordon tried to fire the customary salute in passing Mount Vernon; and he wrote to the secretary in exasperation at the result of this first experience:[4]—
“Had we been engaged in an active war I should suspect the officers of the yard with having a design on my character; but fortunately Mount Vernon drew our attention to the guns before we could apprehend any danger from an enemy. In the act of saluting that place I was struck with astonishment when the first lieutenant reported to me that neither the sponges nor cartridges would go in the guns. I immediately arrested my gunner; but on his satisfying me that he had received them from the gunner of the yard I released him, and hold Mr. Stevenson responsible.”