Between the account given by Decatur and that of the “Pomone’s” log were some discrepancies. In the darkness many mistakes were inevitable; but if each party were taken as the best authority on its own side, the connected story seemed to show that Decatur, after beating off the “Endymion,” made every effort to escape, but was impressed by the conviction that if overtaken by the squadron, nothing was left but to receive the fire of the nearest ship, and surrender. The night was calm, and the “President” made little headway. At eleven o’clock one of the pursuing squadron came up, and fired two broadsides. “Thus situated,” reported Decatur, “with about one fifth of my crew killed and wounded, my ship crippled, and a more than fourfold force opposed to me, without a chance of escape left, I deemed it my duty to surrender.”
The official Court of Inquiry on the loss of the “President” reported, a few months afterward, a warm approval of Decatur’s conduct:[86]—
“We fear that we cannot express in a manner that will do justice to our feelings our admiration of the conduct of Commodore Decatur and his officers and crew.... As well during the chase as through his contest with the enemy [he] evinced great judgment and skill, perfect coolness, the most determined resolution, and heroic courage.”
The high praise thus bestowed was doubtless deserved, since the Court of Inquiry was composed of persons well qualified to judge; but Decatur’s battle with the “Endymion” was far from repeating the success of his triumph over the “Macedonian.” Anxious to escape rather than to fight, Decatur in consequence failed either to escape or resist with effect. The action with the “Endymion” lasted three hours from the time when the British frigate gained the “President’s” quarter. For the first half hour the “President” received the “Endymion’s” broadsides without reply. During the last half hour the firing slackened and became intermittent. Yet for two hours the ships were engaged at close range, a part of the time within half musket-shot, in a calm sea, and in a parallel line of sailing.[87] At all times of the battle, the ships were well within point-blank range,[88] which for long twenty-four-pounders and thirty-two-pound carronades was about two hundred and fifty yards.[89] Decatur had needed but an hour and a half to disable and capture the “Macedonian,” although a heavy swell disturbed his fire, and at no time were the ships within easy range for grape, which was about one hundred and fifty yards. The “Endymion” was a larger and better ship than the “Macedonian,” but the “President” was decidedly less efficient than the “United States.”
According to Captain Hope’s report, the “Endymion” lost eleven men killed and fourteen wounded. The “President” reported twenty-five killed and sixty wounded. Of the two ships the “President” was probably the most severely injured.[90] The masts of both were damaged, and two days afterward both were dismasted in a gale; but while the “President” lost all her masts by the board, the “Endymion” lost only her fore and main masts considerably above deck. On the whole, the injury inflicted by the “President” on the “Endymion” was less than in proportion to her relative strength, or to the length of time occupied in the action. Even on the supposition that the “President’s” fire was directed chiefly against the “Endymion’s” rigging, the injury done was not proportional to the time occupied in doing it. According to the “Pomone’s” log, the “Endymion” was able to rejoin the squadron at quarter before one o’clock in the night. According to the “Endymion’s” log, she repaired damages in an hour, and resumed the chase at nine o’clock.[91]
The British ships were surprised that Decatur should have surrendered to the “Pomone” without firing a shot. Apparently the “Pomone’s” broadside did little injury, and the “Tenedos” was not yet in range when the “Pomone” opened fire. The question of the proper time to surrender was to be judged by professional rules; and if resistance was hopeless, Decatur was doubtless justified in striking when he did; but his apparent readiness to do so hardly accorded with the popular conception of his character.
As usual the sloops were more fortunate than the frigate, and got to sea successfully, January 22, in a gale of wind which enabled them to run the blockade. Their appointed rendezvous was Tristan d’Acunha. There the “Hornet” arrived on the morning of March 23, and before she had time to anchor sighted the British sloop-of-war “Penguin,”—a new brig then cruising in search of the American privateer “Young Wasp.”
Captain Biddle of the “Hornet” instantly made chase, and Captain Dickinson of the “Penguin” bore up and stood for the enemy. According to British authority the vessels differed only by a “trifling disparity of force.”[92] In truth the American was somewhat superior in size, metal, and crew, although not so decisively as in most of the sloop battles. The “Hornet” carried eighteen thirty-two-pound carronades and two long twelve-pounders; the “Penguin” carried sixteen thirty-two-pound carronades, two long guns differently reported as twelve-pounders and six-pounders, and a twelve-pound carronade. The crews were apparently the same in number,—about one hundred and thirty-two men. Captain Dickinson had equipped his vessel especially for the purpose of capturing heavy privateers, and was then looking for the “Young Wasp,”—a vessel decidedly superior to the “Hornet.”[93] Although he had reason to doubt his ability to capture the “Young Wasp,” he did not fear a combat with the “Hornet,” and showed his confidence by brushing up close alongside and firing a gun, while the “Hornet,” all aback, waited for him.
The result was very different from that of Decatur’s two-hour battle with the “Endymion.” In little more than twenty minutes of close action the “Penguin’s” foremast and bowsprit were gone, her captain killed, and thirty-eight men killed or wounded, or more than one fourth the crew. The brig was “a perfect wreck,” according to the British official report, when the senior surviving officer hailed and surrendered.[94] The “Hornet” was not struck in the hull, but was very much cut up in rigging and spars. She had two killed, and nine wounded. “It was evident,” said Captain Biddle’s report, “that our fire was greatly superior both in quickness and effect.”
The “Penguin” was destroyed, and the “Hornet” and “Peacock” continued their cruise until April 27, when they chased for twenty-four hours a strange sail, which proved to be the British seventy-four “Cornwallis.” On discovering the character of the chase Biddle made off to windward, but found that the enemy “sailed remarkably fast and was very weatherly.” At daylight of the 29th, the “Cornwallis” was within gunshot on the “Hornet’s” lee-quarter. Her shot did not take effect, and Biddle, by lightening his ship, drew out of fire; but a few hours later the enemy again came up within three quarters of a mile, in a calm sea, and opened once more. Three shot struck the “Hornet,” but without crippling her. Biddle threw over everything that could be spared, except one long gun; and a fortunate change of wind enabled him a second time to creep out of fire. He escaped; but the loss of his guns, anchors, cables, and boats obliged him to make for San Salvador, where he heard the news of peace.[95]