Thirty Years' View (Vol. 2 of 2) / or, A History of the Working of the American Government for Thirty Years, from 1820 to 1850

by Thomas Hart Benton

For six weeks the hostile vessels watched each other, the British vessel sometimes lying off and on outside of the harbor, and when so at sea the Essex going out and offering to fight her single handed; for the Essex Junior was too light to be of any service in a frigate fight. Other British ships of war being expected at Valparaiso, and no combat to be had with the Phœbe without her attendant sloop, Captain Porter determined to take his opportunity to escape from the harbor—which the superior sailing of the Essex would enable him to do when the British ships were a few miles off, as they often were—Essex Junior escaping at the same time by parting company, as it was certain that both the British ships would follow the American frigate.

March 28th, 1813, was a favorable day for the attempt—the wind right, the enemy far enough out, and the Essex in perfect order for fighting or sailing. The attempt was made, and with success, until, doubling a headland which formed part of the harbor, a squall carried away the maintopmast, crippling the ship and greatly disabling her. Capt. Porter put back for the harbor, and though getting within it, and within pistol shot of the shore, and within half a mile from a detached battery, could not reach the usual anchoring ground before the approach of the enemy compelled him to clear for action. A desperate but most unequal combat raged for near three hours—an inferior crippled frigate contending with a frigate and a sloop in perfect order. The crippled mast of the Essex allowed the enemy to choose his distance, which he always did with good regard to his own safety, using his long eighteens at long distances—keeping out of the reach of Porter's carronades, out of the reach of boarding, and only within range of six long twelves which played with such effect that at the end of half an hour both British ships hauled off to repair damages. Having repaired, both returned, and got such a position that not a gun of the crippled Essex could bear upon them. An attempt was made to close upon them and get near enough to cripple the sloop and drive her out of the fight for the remainder of the action; but the frigate edged away, choosing her distance, and using her long guns with terrible effect upon the Essex, which could not send back a single shot.

The brave and faithful Downes pulled through the fire of the enemy in an open boat to take the orders of his captain; but his light guns could be of no service, and he was directed to look to his own ship. Twice more the Essex endeavored to close upon the British frigate, but she edged away each time, keeping the distance which was safe to himself and destructive to the Essex. By this time half the whole crew were killed or wounded, and the ship on fire. Capt. Porter then attempted to run her on shore; but the wind failed when within musket shot of the land. Leave was then given to the crew to save themselves by swimming, which but few would do. At last the surrender became imperative. The Essex struck, and her heroic commander and surviving men and officers became prisoners of war. Thousands of persons—all Valparaiso—witnessed the combat. The American consul, Mr. Poinsett, witnessed it and claimed the protection of the fort, only to receive evasive answers, as the authorities were now favorable to the British. It was a clear case of violated neutrality, tried by any rule. First, the Essex was within the harbor, though not at the usual anchoring place, which she could not reach; secondly, she was under the guns of the detached fort, only half a mile distant; thirdly, she was within the territorial jurisdiction of Chili, whether measured by the league or by the range of cannon, and no dispute about either, as the shore was at hand, and the British balls which missed the Essex hit the land.

After the surrender some arrangements were made with Capt. Hillyar. Some prisoners were exchanged upon the spot, part of those made by Capt. Porter being available for an equal number of his own people. Essex Junior became a cartel to carry home himself and officers and others of his men on parole; but this man of daring deeds was not allowed to reach home without another proof of his determined spirit. When within thirty miles of New York, Essex Junior was brought to by the British razee Saturn, Capt. Nash, who denied the right of Capt. Hillyar to allow the cartel, and ordered her to lie by him during the night. Capt. Porter put off in a whale-boat, and, though long chased, saved himself by the chance of a fog coming to the aid of hard rowing.

And thus ended this unparalleled cruise—ending with a disaster. But the end could not efface the past; could not undo the captures which had been made; could not obscure the glory which had been acquired; cannot impair the lesson which its results impress on the minds of statesmen. It had lasted eighteen months, and during that time the little frigate had done every thing for itself and the country. It had lived and flourished upon the enemy. Not a dollar had been drawn from the public Treasury, either for pay or supplies; all came from the foe. Money, provisions, munitions, additional arms, spars, cordage, rigging, and vessels to constitute a little fleet, all came from the British. Far more than enough for all purposes was taken and much destroyed; for damage as well as protection was an object of the expedition—damage to the British, protection to Americans; and nobly were both objects accomplished. Surpluses, as far as possible, were sent home; and, though in part recaptured, these accidents did not diminish the merit of the original capture. The great whale trade of the British in the Pacific was broken up, the supply of oil was stopped, the London lamps were in the condition of those of the "foolish virgins," and a member of Parliament declared in his place that the city had burnt dark for a year.

The personal history of Commodore Porter, for such he became, was full of incident and adventure, all in keeping with his generous and heroic character. Twice while a lad and serving in merchant vessels in the West Indies, he was impressed by the British, and, by his courage and conduct made his escape, each time. A third attempt at impressment was repulsed by the bloody defeat of the press-gang. The same attempt, renewed with increased numbers, was again repulsed with loss to the British party—young Porter, only sixteen, among the most courageous defenders of the vessel. He was upwards of a year a prisoner at Tripoli, being first lieutenant on board the Philadelphia when she grounded before that city and was captured. He was midshipman with the then Lieutenant Rodgers, when the two young officers and eleven men performed that marvel of endurance, firmness, steadiness, and seamanship, in working for three days and nights, without sleep or rest, on the French frigate Insurgent, guarding all the time their 173 prisoners, and conducting the prize safe into port—as related in the notice of Commodore Rodgers.

After his return from the Pacific, he was employed in suppressing piracy in the West Indies, which he speedily accomplished; but for punishing an insult to the flag in the island of Porto Rico, he incurred the displeasure of his government, and the censure of a court martial. His proud spirit would not brook a censure which he deemed undeserved; and he resigned his commission in the navy, of which he was so brilliant an ornament. The writer of this View was a close observer of that trial, and believed the Commodore to have been hardly dealt by, and considered the result a confirmation of his general view of courts martial where the government interferes—an interference (when it happens) generally for a purpose, either to convict or acquit; and rarely failing of its object in either case, as the court is appointed by the government, dependent upon it for future honor and favor, acts in secret, and subject to the approval of the Executive.

Stung to the quick by such requital of his services, the brave officer resigned his commission, and left the country which he had served so faithfully, and loved so well, and took service in the Republic of Mexico, then lately become independent and desirous to create a navy. But he was not allowed to live and mourn an exile in a foreign land. President Jackson proposed to restore him to his place in the navy, but he refused the restoration upon the same ground that he had resigned upon—would not remain in a service under an unreversed sentence of unjust censure. President Jackson then gave him the place of Consul General at Algiers; and, upon the reduction of that place by the French, appointed him the United States Charge d'Affaires to the Sublime Porte—a mission afterwards raised to Minister Resident by act of Congress for his special benefit. The Sultan Mahmoud—he who suppressed the Janissaries, introduced European reforms, and so greatly favored Christians and strangers—was then on the throne, and greatly attached to the Commodore, whose conversation and opinions he often sought. He died in this post, and was brought home to be buried in the country which gave him birth, and which no personal wrong could make him cease to love. A national ship of war, the Truxton, brought him home—a delicate compliment in the selection of the vessel bearing the name of the commander under whom he first served.

Humanity was a ruling feature in his character, and of this he gave constant proof—humane to the enemy as well as to his own people. Of his numerous captures he never made one by bloodshed when milder means could prevail; always preferring, by his superior seamanship, to place them in predicaments which coerced surrender. Patriotism was a part of his soul. He was modest and unpretentious; never seeming to know that he had done things of which the world talked, and of which posterity would hear. He was a "lion" nowhere but on the quarter-deck, and in battle with the enemies of his country. He was affectionate to his friends and family, just and kind to his men and officers, attaching all to him for life and for death. His crew remaining with him when their terms were expiring in the Pacific, and refusing to quit their commander when authorized to do so at Valparaiso, were proofs of their devotion and affection.

Detailed history is not the object of this notice, but character and instruction—the deeds which show character, and the actions which instruct posterity; and in this view his career is a lesson for statesmen to study—to study in its humble commencement as well as in its dazzling and splendid culmination. Schools do not form such commanders; and, if they did, the wisdom of government would not detect the future illustrious captain in the man before the mast, or in the boy in the cabin. Born in Boston, the young Porter came to man's estate in Baltimore, and went to sea at sixteen in the merchant ship commanded by his father—the worthy father of such a son—making many voyages to the West Indies. There he earned his midshipman's warrant, and there he learned the seamanship which made him the worthy second of Rodgers in that marvellous management of the Insurgent, which faithful history will love to commemorate. Self-made in the beginning, he was self-acting through life, and will continue to act upon posterity, if amenable to the lesson taught by his life: the merchant service, the naval school, cruisers, the naval force, separate commands for young men. With a little 32 gun frigate, all carronades except a half-dozen stern chasers, and they only twelve-pounders, he dominated for a year in the vast Pacific Ocean; with a 44 and her attendant sloop-of-war, brig, and schooner, he would have dominated there to the end of the war. He was the Paul Jones of the "second war of Independence," with a more capacious and better regulated mind, and had the felicity to transmit as well as to inherit the qualities of a commander. The name of Porter is yet borne with honorable promise on the roll of the American navy.