Captain Hillyar having completed his repairs, again took his position where the Essex could not bring a gun to bear. Porter finding himself a mere target on the water, determined if possible to board the Phœbe. But his sheets and halyards had been so shot away that not a sail could be set, except the flying jib. Giving this to wind and cutting his cable, he drove slowly down on his foes, and when he got them within range of his carronades, opened a terrible fire. The cannonade on both sides was incessant and awful. The Essex on fire, almost a wreck, and swept by the broadsides of two vessels, still bore steadily down to close, but the Cherub hauled off, while the Phœbe, seeing the advantage she possessed with her long guns, when out of the reach of carronades, kept edging away. It was a painful spectacle to behold, that crippled, dismantled ship, bravely limping up to grapple with her powerful adversary, and that adversary as slowly moving off and pouring in the while a ceaseless, murderous fire. Hulled at almost every shot, her decks ripped up and strewed with the dead, her guns torn from their carriages and rendered useless, it was evident that noble frigate could not be fought much longer. Still Porter would not strike his flag, and he resolved to run his vessel ashore and blow her up. Her head was turned towards the beach, and he had got within musket-shot of it, when the wind suddenly veered and blew him back on the Phœbe and under her raking broadsides. Foiled in his first effort, he now for a moment hoped to get foul and board the enemy, but she kept away, raking the Essex as she retired. The scene on board the frigate at this time was horrible. The cock-pit was crowded with the wounded—men by the dozens were mowed down at every discharge—fifteen had successively fallen at one gun, and scarcely a quarter deck officer was left standing. Amid this scene of carnage and desolation, Porter moved with a knit brow and gloomy heart. As he looked at his crippled condition and slaughtered crew, he felt that he must submit, but when he turned his eye to the flag of his country, still fluttering at the mizen, he could not give the order to strike it. The sympathies of the thousands of spectators that covered the hill-top were with him—as they ever are with the brave. The American consul hastened to the governor of the city and claimed the protection of the batteries for the Essex, but in vain. It had, no doubt, been all arranged beforehand between the authorities and the British commander. Every thing, even the elements of nature, seemed combined against this single ship. As a last resort, Porter let go his sheet anchor, which brought the head of his vessel round so that his broadsides again bore. A gleam of hope lighted up for a moment the gloom that hung over his prospects, and walking amid his bleeding crew, he encouraged the few survivors to hold on. The broadsides of the two vessels again thundered over the bay, telling with frightful effect on both vessels. But this last forlorn hope was snatched from the fated frigate—the hawser parted in the strain, and she drifted an unmanageable wreck on the water—while, to complete the horror of the scene, the flames burst from the hatchways and rolled away towards the magazine. Finding that his doom was now inevitably sealed, for his boats had all been shot away, Porter ordered those of his crew who could swim to jump overboard and make for the shore, three-quarters of a mile distant. Some reached it, while the remainder who made the attempt were either drowned or picked up by the enemy's boats. He then, with the few who preferred to share his fate, extinguished the fire, and again worked the guns that could be brought to bear. It was, however, the last feeble effort of a dying giant. The enemy could now fire more leisurely, and the water being smooth, he soon made a perfect riddle of the Essex. The crew at last entreated their commander to surrender—the contest was hopeless—the cock-pit, ward-room, steerage, and berth-deck could contain no more wounded, who were constantly killed while under the surgeon's hand. Of the carpenter's crew not one remained to stop the shot-holes, through which the water was pouring in streams, and the entire vessel was a wreck. Porter would have sunk with his flag flying, but for the number of wounded who would thus perish with him. For their sakes he finally consented to surrender, and ordered the officers of the different divisions to be sent for, but to his amazement only one was left to answer his call,[3] while out of two hundred and fifty-five men only seventy-five were left fit for duty. This unexampled and murderous combat had lasted nearly two hours and a half, and he gave the melancholy order to lower the flag. The enemy not at first observing it, kept up his fire. Porter, thinking it was his intention to give no quarter, was about to hoist his flag again, and go down with it flying, when the firing ceased.
A ship was never fought more bravely or skilfully, and Porter, though compelled to surrender, earned imperishable renown, and set an example to our navy, which if followed, will ensure its success, and cover it with glory.
Captain Hillyar's conduct after the victory, was distinguished by a courtesy and delicacy rarely witnessed in English commanders at that time. But he was blameworthy in attacking a ship in a neutral port, and it would not take many such victories to ruin his reputation. The whole transaction shows what little respect England paid to the laws of neutrality. The national heart was exceedingly shocked at the violation of those laws by Napoleon when he seized the Duke D'Enghien, but she could give orders, the execution of which did not cause the death of merely one man, but more than one hundred brave spirits, on neutral territory. The authorities of Valparaiso were also guilty of a base act in not defending the rights of their own port, and extending the protection required by the laws of nations to the American vessel.
1814.
The Essex Junior was transformed into a cartel, and the prisoners sent in her to the United States, on parole. She arrived off Sandy Hook the 5th of July, and though provided with passports from Captain Hillyar, to prevent a recapture, she was overhauled and detained by the British ship Saturn. Captain Nash, the commander, at first treated Porter very civilly, endorsed his passports, and allowed the vessel to proceed. Standing on the same tack with the Essex, he kept her company for two hours, when he ordered the former to heave to again, and her papers brought on board for re-examination. Porter was indignant at this proceeding, but he was told that his passport must not only go on board the Saturn, but the vessel itself be detained. He remonstrated, declaring that it was in direct violation of the contract entered into with Captain Hillyar, and he should consider himself a prisoner of Captain Nash's, and no longer on parole, and at the same time offered to deliver up his sword. On being told that the vessel must remain under the lee of the Saturn all night, he said, "then I am your prisoner, and do not feel myself bound any longer by my agreement with Captain Hillyar." He withdrew his parole at once, declaring he should act as he saw fit. The English captain evidently suspected some Yankee trick was at the bottom of the whole proceeding, and as it usually happened during the war, suspicion was aroused at precisely the wrong times. English vessels had been so often duped by Yankee shrewdness that they were constantly on the alert, and hence to be safe, often committed blunders of a grave character. Porter, whether treading the quarter-deck of his own vessel or a prisoner of war, was not a man to be trifled with, and as a British officer had treated him basely, he determined to be free of the obligations that galled him, at all hazards, and the next morning finding that he was off Long Island, and that Captain Nash had no idea of releasing him, he ordered a boat lowered, into which he jumped with an armed crew, and pushed off. As he went down the vessel's side, he told Lieutenant Downs to say to Captain Nash, "that he was now satisfied that most British naval officers were not only destitute of honor, but regardless of the honor of each other; that he was armed and should fight any force sent against him, to the last, and if he met him again, it would be as an enemy." Keeping the Essex Junior between him and the British vessel, he got nearly out of gun-shot before he was discovered. The Saturn immediately gave chase, but a fog suddenly rising, concealed the boat, when Porter changed his course and eluded his pursuers. Lieutenant Downs, taking advantage of the same fog endeavored to escape with his vessel, but the Saturn suspecting his movements, opened her guns, which brought him to. Porter heard the firing, and kept off in an opposite direction, and by rowing and sailing, alternately, for nearly sixty miles, in an open boat, at length reached Babylon, on Long Island. The people there discredited his story. Suspecting he was an English officer in disguise, they began to question him, and he was compelled to show his commission before they would let him go. When their doubts were at length removed, every attention was lavished upon him, and he started for New York. His arrival was soon spread abroad, and as the carriage that contained him entered the city the horses were snatched away, and the people seizing it, dragged him through the streets with huzzas and shouts of welcome.
Porter had lost his ship, but not his place in the heart of the nation, nay he was deeply and forever fixed there. His cruise had been a great triumph, notwithstanding its disastrous close. The boldness and originality of its conception—the daring and gallant manner in which he had carried it out—the spirit and desperation with which he had fought his ship against a superior force, were themes of universal eulogy, and endeared him to the American people.
CHAPTER III.
Plan of the third Campaign — Attack on Sackett's Harbor — Attack on Oswego — Woolsey transports guns to Sackett's Harbor — Capture of the detachment sent against him — Expedition against Mackinaw — Death of Captain Holmes — Complete failure of the expedition.
While Porter was slowly approaching our coast, on his return from the Pacific, events on our northern frontier were assuming an entirely different aspect from that which they had worn for the last two years. In the spring, just before and after Congress adjourned, small expeditions on both sides were set on foot; one, on our part, to Mackinaw, to aid in carrying out Armstrong's plan for the summer campaign. This, like all the previous plans looked to the same result, the details being varied apparently for the sole purpose of appeasing the people, who it was thought, would not allow a repetition of those manœuvres which had ended in such signal disgrace. It was therefore proposed, first to humble the Indians in the north-west, by capturing Mackinaw, and thus hold the key of that whole region, so valuable for its fur trade, and then march an army from the east of Lake Erie to Burlington Heights, and seize and fortify that position till the co-operation of the Ontario fleet and the troops at Sackett's harbor could be secured, when a rapid advance might be made on Kingston, and after its reduction, on Montreal. The Secretary clung to the conquest of Canada with a tenacity that deserved success, but this plan also utterly failed, and the progress of the campaign brought about results widely different from those anticipated. That part of it looking to the seizure of Mackinaw, was placed under the direction of Colonel Croghan and Major Holmes, with whom Captain Sinclair, recently appointed to the command of the upper lakes, was to co-operate with a portion of his fleet—the other portion to aid in the expedition against Burlington Heights. Major Holmes had at first been appointed by the Secretary to command the land forces, but Colonel Croghan, stationed at Detroit, and senior officer during Colonel Butler's absence, denied the right thus directly to appoint him, insisting that the commission should go through his hands. A correspondence followed, which delayed the expedition till the third of July. In the mean time, a British force, under Colonel McDowell, had visited and reinforced all the posts on the northern lakes, penetrating even beyond Mackinaw. While Holmes and Sinclair were detained till Colonel Croghan and the Secretary could settle a question of etiquette, the English, who had again acquired the ascendancy on Lake Ontario, by building more ships, made an attack on Sackett's Harbor. Being repulsed, Sir James Yeo then sailed for Oswego, to destroy materials for ship building, etc., which he supposed to be assembled there. He arrived on the 5th of May, and began to bombard the place. The American garrison at the fort, consisted of three hundred men under Colonel Mitchell, with five guns, three of which were almost useless. The place contained at that time, but five hundred inhabitants. The schooner Growler being in the river, and exposed to certain capture, was sunk, and her cannon transferred to the fort, situated on a high bank east of the town.
Finding that the bombardment produced no effect, a large body of troops, under General Drummond, was sent forward to carry the fort by storm. The fifteen barges that contained them were led on by gun-boats, destined to cover the landing. These no sooner came within range of the artillery on shore, than a spirited fire was opened on them, repulsing them twice, and finally compelling the whole flotilla to seek the shelter of the ships. The next day the fleet approached nearer shore, and commenced a heavy cannonade which lasted three hours. Under cover of it, General De Watteville landed two thousand troops, and advanced in perfect order over the ground that intervened between the water and the fort. The soldiers and marines of the Growler fought bravely, but Colonel Mitchell seeing that resistance was hopeless, retired, scourging the enemy as he withdrew, with well-directed volleys, and strewing the ground with more than two hundred dead and wounded. He fell back to Oswego Falls, where the naval stores had all been removed, destroying the bridges as he retired. Foiled in their attempt to get possession of the stores, the British, after having raised the Growler, retired to Sackett's Harbor, and blockaded it, resolving to intercept the supplies, guns, etc., that were ready to be sent forward. Lighter materials could be transported by land, but the guns, cables, and anchors, &c., destined for two vessels recently built at Sackett's Harbor, could reach there only by water, from Oswego, whither they had been carried by way of the Mohawk river, Woods' creek, Oneida lake, and the Oswego river. Captain Woolsey, a brave, skillful and energetic officer, who had been appointed to take charge of their transportation, caused a rumor to be spread that he designed to effect it through Oneida lake. May 28. But soon as the British fleet left Oswego, he dropped down the river with fifteen boats, loaded with thirty-four cannon and ten cables. Halting at Oswego till dark, he then pulled out into the lake. A detachment of a hundred and thirty riflemen accompanied him, while a body of Oneida Indians marched along the shore. The night was dark and gloomy—the rain fell in torrents, drenching sailors and soldiers to the skin, while the waves dashed over the boats, adding to the discomforts and labors of the voyage. It was a long and tedious pull along the scarcely visible shores, on which swayed and moaned an unbroken forest.