Naval Actions of the War of 1812

by James Barnes

In recording the actions of the war of 1812 that gave lustre to our navy and added to the records of its heroes, we have already included two in which the results were defeat and capture of American ships. The Essex and the Chesapeake are here referred to, the latter being the only case in which the opposing forces approached an equality. There is one other action still to be touched upon, which, though disastrous, cannot but reflect honor upon those connected with it.

Stephen Decatur, the idol of the American service, had been given the command of the frigate President, which had been refitting in the harbor of New York.

On the evening of the 14th of January, 1815, he sailed into the lower bay, intending to make his way to sea under cover of the night, as it was known that a heavy squadron of the English had been hovering along the coasts of New Jersey and Long Island.

In leaving the harbor near Sandy Hook, owing to some mistake of the pilot, the President grounded heavily on a sand-bar, and for an hour and a half she struck continually in her efforts to escape, breaking several of her rudder-braces and straining her seams so badly that she commenced to leak very fast. Decatur determined to return to the harbor, as he suspected, what was afterwards proved to be true, that the President had carried away part of her false keel, and was badly hogged (i. e., broken and bent near her keelson). Owing to a strong wind rising, it was found impossible to put the President about, and the tide being at the flood, it became necessary to force her over the bar at all hazards. By ten o’clock that night she had succeeded in freeing herself, and shaped her course along the shore of Long Island, steering southeast by east.

Shortly after daybreak three ships were discovered ahead. The President hauled her wind and passed two miles to the northward of them. As the morning mist disappeared, it was discovered that four ships were in chase—one on each quarter and two astern. The leading ship, from the height of her towering masts, was made out to be a razee. She commenced firing, but at such a distance that the shot fell short.

At twelve the steady breeze which had been blowing became light and baffling. The President, despite her crippled condition, had left the large vessel far behind, but the next ship astern was proving herself a faster sailer, and was gradually gaining—creeping up with every puff of wind. The President sat deep in the water, and plunged downward into the sea as if she had been waterlogged. Immediately all hands were occupied in lightening the ship, starting the water in the butts, cutting away the anchors, throwing overboard provisions, cables, spare boats, and every article to be gotten at, while the men aloft were hoisting buckets and keeping the sails wet from the royals down.

At three o’clock the large ship, which had been joined by a brig, came up rapidly. It was the Endymion, mounting 50 guns, and she commenced to fire as she neared with her forward battery, while Decatur replied with his stern-chasers. Thus it continued for two hours, when the Englishman obtained a position on the starboard quarter at less than point-blank range, and maintained it so cleverly that neither the President’s stern nor quarter guns would bear. For half an hour the vessels sailed on, firing occasional guns, and keeping back their broadsides, the Englishman wishing, no doubt, to capture the President without crippling her, while Decatur hoped to be able to close, as he had had his boarders waiting for some time. It became evident, however, that the Englishman did not wish close quarters; and as it was growing dusk, Decatur made up his mind to alter his course farther to the south, for the purpose of bringing the enemy abeam. Meanwhile the ships astern were approaching, and would soon be within range. For two hours and a half longer the Englishman and the President sailed side by side, and the action gave cause for some pretty writing and press controversy afterwards, as all unfinished international contests will.

However, there is no question whatever that the President during the running fight completely disabled her antagonist, and at last left her drifting round and round helplessly before eight o’clock had passed.

It was growing dark, but the other ships of the squadron could be made out by their signal-lights, and to lower a boat to take possession of the Endymion was impossible. One more attempt Decatur made to avoid capture, and to accomplish this he sailed close to the Endymion and exposed himself to a raking fire, being within range for over half an hour, but not a shot was heard. The Englishman had been placed entirely out of the combat.