James Lawrence
From an engraving by Edwin.
With such speed as was possible, Captain Lawrence spread his sails to the breeze, spread everything from courses to royals and studding sails, and drove away beyond the light. On his way out he hoisted a great burgee containing the words “Free trade and sailors’ rights.” As the reader will remember, “free trade” there had no reference to tariffs or imports—the phrase meant that the Americans were fighting for the right to trade on the high seas unmolested by British press-gangs and Orders-in-Council. Then the crew were called into the gangway, where Captain Lawrence began to talk to them to infuse some of his own spirit into their breasts. But hardly had he begun when he was interrupted by loud murmurs from the men who had been on the previous cruise of the Chesapeake. Led by the “scoundrel Portuguese, who was boatswain’s mate,” they demanded their prize-money under penalty of refusing to do duty. Not only was the crew raw and untrained; it was to an astounding extent mutinous.
What ought to have been done at this moment—what a modern naval officer would have done—may be a matter worth considering, but Lawrence yielded to the mutineers by calling them into the cabin and giving them checks for the prize-money due. Then they went forward and First Lieutenant Augustus C. Ludlow, assisted by Second Lieutenant George Budd (an officer of some experience) and Midshipmen William Cox and Edward J. Ballard, acting as third and fourth lieutenants, strove to get the crew into their places.
The Chesapeake, very brave in her display of colors, passed the Boston light at about one o’clock in the afternoon and headed away after the Shannon, that stood off shore, with a pleasant breeze until 3.40. Then the Shannon clewed down and put a reef in her topsails, and thereafter she filled and backed for an hour while the Chesapeake was bearing down on her and preparing for battle. “Lawrence displayed great skill and tactics when closing,” as the enemy testified, and at 5.50 P.M. luffed up and backed his mainyard within fifty yards of the Shannon’s weather-quarter instead of wearing down across the stern and raking her as he might have done.
The Chesapeake and Shannon.—Commencement of the Battle.
From an engraving at the Navy Department, Washington.
That was magnificent for bravery—it was chivalrous to the highest degree—so high as to be beyond the realm of common sense.
Up to this moment neither ship had fired a shot at the other, and both crews stood at their guns in perfect silence. Lawrence, “colossal in figure, with muscular power superior to most men,” paced his quarter-deck “fatally conspicuous by his full-dress uniform.” Broke, equally courageous and cool, stood upon his deck watching the Yankee. He had foreseen the manœuvre that Lawrence would make and had ordered William Windham, who commanded the fourteenth gun, counting from forward on the weather side of the Shannon, to fire as soon as he could see into the second of the ports on the lee-side of the Chesapeake.