JONES ENTERING THE BALTIC.
It was a brilliant spectacle which was presented in the rays of this June morning’s sun. The majestic bay, into which were poured the waters of the Dnieper, the Bog, the Liman, and several other minor streams, spread out in all directions. The whole Russian fleet of ships and gun-boats, in beautiful battle array, was bearing down under full sail with a fair wind, upon the unsuspecting and unprepared Turks. The moment the Capitaine Pasha caught sight of the wondrous spectacle, he was terror-stricken. The force rushing upon him appeared far more powerful than it really was. The wind being fresh and fair, the Turkish admiral saw at once that the whole Russian armament might strike any portion of his line before other portions could come to its aid. His only resource was in flight. The same wind which was bringing down the Russian fleet upon him, would bear him onward in his escape, to take shelter under the massive guns of the batteries and ramparts of Oczakow.
The signal was given for the flight. As in the twinkling of an eye, a wonderful scene of tumult and confusion was presented along the whole Turkish line. The ships, the frigates, the gun-boats were raising their anchors, cutting their cables, spreading their sails, and pulling their oars, in the frantic endeavor to escape the impending peril. Admiral Jones opened fire upon the bewildered foe, from his bow chasers, wherever a gun could be brought to bear.
The second officer in command of the Turkish fleet seemed to act like one bereft of reason, in the panic which had apparently seized all alike. He had charge of one of the finest of the Turkish line-of-battle ships; a mammoth fabric, with its tiers of death-dealing guns, which would have been a match for any ship in the British navy. But assailed by a dozen Russian ships and gun-boats, it would in a few moments have been sunk beneath the waves, or blown into the air. As the vast sails of this ship were flung to the breeze, it slowly wheeled around, got under rapid headway and ran plump upon a sand-bank, beyond all possible hope of extrication. As she struck, she careened over at an angle of forty-five degrees. The muzzles of her guns, on the lower side, were dipped into the water; upon the upper side, they pointed to the clouds. Thus the ship could neither fight nor run. The crew, as many as could, crowded into the boats, escaped from the ship, and took refuge in other vessels of the fleet.
Admiral Jones knew that the ship was his. It was a magnificent prize. It needed no further attention. He therefore gave chase to the ship of the Capitaine Pasha. The Prince of Nassau, to the great chagrin of Admiral Jones, came up with his gun-boats, threw fire-balls into the splendid prize, and burned it to the water’s edge.
The flag-ship of the Turkish admiral was also an unwieldy mass to navigate the intricate channels of this shallow bay. It soon struck a sand-bank, and was helpless. The crew fled. There were now nine of these large Turkish ships-of-war aground. They were manned by Turkish sailors, and also by a large number of Greeks, who had been subjugated by the Turks, and being nominal Christians, were in entire sympathy with their Christian brethren the Russians. These men were compelled to serve the Turkish guns, as England often compelled impressed American seamen.
The Prince of Nassau seemed to have lost all control of his gun-boats. They ran about here and there, independent of all command, and did what they would. Like Indian warriors, each boat fought, plundered, or destroyed, on its own account. A cannon-ball had struck the flag-staff of the deserted admiral’s ship, and broke it off so that the flag hung down draggling it in the water. The Prince of Nassau, eager of the honor of capturing the flag of the Turkish admiral, hurried up with one of his gunboats, seized the defenceless banner, and then insanely threw his fire-balls into the ship till it was wrapped in flame and disappeared.
The other boats of the flotilla, imitating this example, rushed about pell-mell without order or plan, offering no coöperation to follow up the victory, and wantonly amusing themselves in burning the grounded ships. All of these Turkish vessels had more or less of the Greeks on board. In vain these poor creatures cried for mercy. They threw themselves upon their knees; they made the sign of the cross, to indicate that they too were Christians. The barbarous and fanatic Russian sailors, ignorant and cruel, threw their fire-balls on board the ships, and consigned vessels and crew alike to the flames. Above three thousand of these unhappy men were burned with their ships. Only two of the stranded vessels were saved from the flames. One was a sloop, very indifferently armed, and the other a small brig.
Though this was a great victory, it probably gave Admiral Jones more pain than pleasure. He was appalled by the frightful, needless carnage, of burning the poor Greeks crying for mercy. Such a mode of carrying on war was abhorrent to his humane feelings. No results had been accomplished commensurate with what might have been secured, had there been order in the fleet. These nine grounded vessels, with their powerful armaments, would have been of immense advantage, transferred from the line of the Turks to that of the Russians. It is not strange that by this time Admiral Jones lost all patience with his very undesirable coadjutor. Under date of June 20th, he wrote to his Polish friend, Chamberlain Littlepage, as follows:
“Without explaining to me any of his reasons, the Prince of Nassau wished to go to the sand-bank which was under the guns at Oczakow, with all his flotilla. I opposed it, for all the Turkish flotilla was under the cannon of the place, within cannon-shot of our right wing. He permitted himself to say many uncivil things. Among others he said that he was always wanted to protect my squadron with his flotilla.