The Second War with England, Vol. 2 of 2

by Joel Tyler Headley

In August of this year, a gallant action was fought between the privateer Decatur, Capt. Diron, and a war schooner of the British navy. The Decatur had six twelve-pound carronades and one eighteen-pounder, and mustered 103 men. The schooner was thoroughly appointed, carrying twelve twelve-pound carronades, two long sixes, a brass four, a thirty-two pound carronade and eighty-eight men. She, therefore, had but fifteen men less than her antagonist, while she threw more than twice the weight of metal. But, notwithstanding this overwhelming superiority of force, and though a packet accompanied the schooner whose conduct in the engagement could not be foretold, Captain Diron hoisted American colors to the peak, and closed at once and fiercely with the enemy. He knew from the outset that in a broadside to broadside engagement the Dominica, from her great superiority in metal, would soon sink him, and he determined to board her. The latter detected his purpose and bore away, pouring in her broadsides. Both commanders exhibited great skill in manœuvering their ships; one to board, the other to foil the attempt. The schooner succeeded in firing three broadsides before the privateer could close. Captain Diron, who had previously got up all the ammunition, etc. which he wanted from below, and fastened down the hatches, the moment he saw from his course that the schooner could not avoid a collision, ordered the drums to beat the charge. Loud cheers followed, and the next moment the two vessels came together with a crash, the jib-boom of the Decatur piercing the main-sail of the enemy. In an instant they were lashed together. The fire from the artillery and musketry at this time was terrible. In the midst of it the crew of the Decatur sprang with shouts on the enemy's decks, when it became a hand-to-hand fight with pistols and cutlasses. The crew of the latter fought desperately, but at length, every officer being killed or wounded, with the exception of one midshipman and the surgeon, and only twenty-eight out of the eighty-eight left standing, the colors were hauled down. The combat, which lasted an hour, was one of the most bloody, in proportion to the number engaged, that occurred during the war.

1814.

The privateer Neufchatel was another lucky ship. Once getting becalmed off Gray Head, within sight of the Endymion, she was attacked by the boats and launches of the latter containing over a hundred men. The Neufchatel carried 17 guns, but had at the time of the attack only thirty-three men and officers included. Although it was dark the captain observed the approach of the boats, five in number, and opened his fire upon them. They, however, steadily advanced till they reached the ship, when they attempted to board on bows, sides, and stern simultaneously.

The action lasted twenty minutes, when one boat having sunk, another being emptied of its crew, and the others drifting away, apparently without men, the firing ceased. At its close the privateer found on her deck more prisoners than she had men in the combat. But few of the assailants ever reached the frigate again.

Nov. 24.

In November of this year the Kemp privateer sailed out of Wilmington and two days after was attacked by a fleet of six small vessels, carrying in all forty-six guns and a hundred and thirty-four men. Enveloped in the fire of six vessels this gallant privateer maintained the unequal combat for half an hour, and finally succeeded in scattering them, when she fell on them in detail and carried three by boarding. She then ranged alongside the largest brig and poured in her broadsides and volleys of musketry. In fifteen minutes the latter struck. In an hour and a half the whole were taken, but while the prizes were being secured two hoisted sail and got away. The other four were secured and brought into port, the result of a six days' cruise.

1814.

But the most desperate engagement probably during the war took place this year, between the privateer brig, General Armstrong, and the crews of an English squadron in the port of Fayal. This brig, carrying only seven guns and ninety men, entered that port to obtain water, and her commander, Captain Reid, seeing no sail on the horizon, dropped his anchor. A few hours after, the British brig Carnation came in and anchored near her. Soon after the Plantaganet, 74, and the Rota frigate arrived. Captain Reid, knowing how little regard English officers paid to the laws of neutrality, became very solicitous about the safety of his ship, and applied to the authorities of the place to know what course he should pursue. They told him he need entertain no fear, as the English officers knew the rights of a neutral port too well to molest him. Captain Reid, however, suspected it would be otherwise, and kept a close watch on the movements of the enemy. About nine o'clock in the evening, it being broad moonlight on the bay and not a breath of air breaking its glittering surface, he saw four boats rowing rapidly and silently towards him. When they came within hail he called out to know their purpose. The latter making no reply and keeping steadily on, he bade them stand off. They paid no heed to his repeated orders, and were about to board when he gave the command to fire. After a short but fierce contest the assailants were driven off and returned to their vessels. The news soon spread, and the inhabitants with the governor gathered on the shore to see the battle. About midnight fourteen launches, filled with four hundred men, were seen to put off and steer straight for the privateer. Captain Reid, who, in the mean time, had cut his cable and moored close in shore, knew he could not save his vessel; but indignant at this violation of the laws of neutrality he determined the enemy should pay dear for the conquest, and the moment the boats came within range opened a tremendous fire upon them. They staggered under it, but returning it with spirit continued to press on. But as they got nearer, the carnage became awful. Every gun on board that privateer seemed aimed with the precision of a rifle, and the discharges were so rapid and incessant that it was with the utmost efforts the boats could be pushed on at all. The dead cumbered the living, and the oars were continually dropping from the hands of the slain, crippling and confusing all the movements. At length, however, they succeeded in reaching the brig, and cheered on by their officers, shouting "no quarter," began to ascend the sides of the ship. In a moment its black hull was a sheet of flame rolling on the foe.

Shrieks and cries, mingled with oaths and execrations, and sharp volleys of musketry rang out on the night air, turning that moonlight bay into a scene of indescribable terror. The bright waters were loaded with black forms, as they floated or struggled around the boats. The Americans fought with the ferocity of tigers and the desperation of mad men. Leaping into the boats they literally massacred all within. Several drifted ashore full of dead bodies—not a soul being left alive of all the crew—others were sunk. Some were left with one or two to row them. Overwhelmed, crushed and discomfitted, the remainder abandoned the attempt and pulled slowly back to the ships, marking their course by the groans and cries of the wounded that floated back over the bay. Only three officers, out of the whole, escaped, while scarce a hundred and fifty of the four hundred returned unwounded to their vessels. A hundred and twenty were killed outright. The loss could scarcely have been greater had the enemy fought a squadron equal to their own.

Our Consul, after this, dropped a note to the Governor, who immediately sent a remonstrance to Van Lloyd, commander of the Plantagenet, saying that the American vessel was under the guns of the castle and entitled to Portuguese protection. To this Van Lloyd replied, that he was resolved on the destruction of the vessel, and if the fort undertook to protect her, he would not leave a house standing on shore.