The ships and sailors of old Salem

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

Captain Haraden made sail in chase. He offered his gunners a cash reward if they should be able to carry away a spar and disable the Achilles so that he might draw up alongside the enemy and renew the engagement. His fighting blood was at boiling heat and he no longer thought of making for Bilboa and thanking his lucky stars that he had gotten clear of so ugly a foe. But the Achilles was light, while her mainsail “was large as a ship of the line,” and after a chase of three hours, the General Pickering had been distanced. Captain Haraden sorrowfully put about for Bilboa, and took some small satisfaction in his disappointment by overhauling and retaking the Golden Eagle, the prize which had been the original bone of contention.

The prize had been in sight of the action, during which the captured American prizemaster, master John Carnes, enjoyed an interesting conversation with the British prizemaster from the Achilles who had been placed in charge of the vessel.

Mr. Carnes informed his captor of the fighting strength of the General Pickering. The British prizemaster rubbed his eyes when he saw the little Yankee vessel engage the Achilles and roundly swore that Carnes had lied to him. The latter stuck to his guns, however, and added by way of confirmation:

“If you knew Captain Jonathan Haraden as well as I do, you would not be surprised at this. It is just what I expected, and I think it not impossible, notwithstanding the disparity of force, that the Achilles will at least be beaten off, and I shall have the command of this prize again before night.”

The Spanish populace welcomed Captain Haraden ashore as if he had been the hero of a bull fight. He was carried through the streets at the head of a triumphant procession and later compelled to face veritable broadsides of dinners and public receptions. His battle with the Achilles had been rarely spectacular and theatrical, and at sight of one of his elaborately embroidered waistcoats to-day, displayed in the Essex Institute, one fancies that he may have had the fondness for doing fine things in a fine way which made Nelson pin his medals on his coat before he went into action at Trafalgar.

In a narrative compiled from the stories of those who knew and sailed with this fine figure of a privateersman we are told that “in his person he was tall and comely; his countenance was placid, and his manners and deportment mild. His discipline on board ship was excellent, especially in time of action. Yet in the common concerns of life he was easy almost to a fault. So great was the confidence he inspired that if he but looked at a sail through his glass, and then told the helmsman to steer for her, the observation went round, ‘If she is an enemy, she is ours.’ His great characteristic was the most consummate self-possession on all occasions and in midst of perils, in which if any man equalled, none ever excelled him. His officers and men insisted he was more calm and cool amid the din of battle than at any other time; and the more deadly the strife, the more imminent the peril, the more terrific the scene, the more perfect his self-command and serene intrepidity. In a word he was a hero.”

Large and resonant words of tribute these, written in the long ago, and yet they are no fulsome eulogy of Jonathan Haraden of Salem.

During another voyage from Salem to France as a letter of marque, the Pickering discovered, one morning at daylight, a great English ship of the line looming within cannon shot. The enemy bore down in chase, but did not open fire, expecting to capture the Yankee cockleshell without having to injure her. He was fast overhauling the quarry, and Captain Haraden manned his sweeps. The wind was light and although one ball fired from a bowchaser sheared off three of his sweeps, or heavy oars, he succeeded in rowing away from his pursuer and made his escape. It was not a fight, but the incident goes to show how small by modern standards was the ship in which Jonathan Haraden made his dauntless way, when he could succeed in rowing her out of danger of certain capture.

In his early voyages in the Pickering she was commissioned as a letter of marque, carrying cargoes across the Atlantic, and fetching home provisions and munitions needed in the Colonies, but ready to fight “at the drop of the hat.” She was later equipped with a slightly heavier armament and commissioned as a full-fledged privateer. With his sixteen guns Captain Haraden fought and took in one action no less than three British ships carrying a total number of forty-two guns. He made the briefest possible mention in his log of a victory which in its way was as remarkable as the triumph of the Constitution over the Cyane and the Levant in the second war with England.

It was while cruising as a privateer that the Pickering came in sight of three armed vessels sailing in company from Halifax to New York. This little squadron comprised a brig of fourteen guns, a ship of sixteen guns and a sloop of twelve guns. They presented a formidable array of force, the ship alone appearing to be a match for the Pickering in guns and men as they exchanged signals with each other, formed a line and made ready for action. “Great as was the confidence of the officers and crew in the bravery and judgment of Captain Haraden, they evinced, by their looks, that they thought on this occasion he was going to hazard too much; upon which he told them he had no doubt whatever that if they would do their duty, he would quickly capture the three vessels, and this he did with great ease by going alongside of each of them, one after another.”