Part 11

On renewing the engagement the uselessness of continuing to fight was soon made apparent to the commander of the _Epervier_. She had received no less than forty-five shot in her hull, and had twenty-two men killed and wounded; the main-topmast was over her side. In fact, all her standing rigging and spars were injured, and five feet of water was already in her hold.

In hauling off to count up his injuries, Warrington discovered, to his delight, that not one round shot had reached his hull, that not one of his crew was killed, and only two were wounded. The effect of this news and the easy victory stimulated the Americans to tremendous exertion in trying to save the prize.

Upon boarding her it was discovered that she carried $118,000 in specie, and must have been a fine vessel when she commenced the action. With great difficulty the Americans succeeded in stopping some of the shot-holes beneath water, and turned all attention to caring for the prisoners and wounded, reeving new rigging and staying the tottering main-mast.

The prize had struck at 11 A.M. At sunset she was in a comparatively safe position, and sail could be made. To his sorrow, the American commander had found upon boarding the _Epervier_ that three impressed American seamen by the names of Johnson, Peters, and Roberts had been killed. Often and often had it occurred that the impressed sailors for whom the United States had gone to war had been compelled to take up arms and serve the guns directed against the vessels of their own country. The anger at the news of these outrages must have done much to animate the seamen who sought to revenge them.

A contemporary speaks of the _Epervier_ in this fashion: “She is one of the finest vessels of her class belonging to the enemy, built in 1812. She appears to have been one of their ‘bragging vessels,’ for it is said that when she left London bets were made that she would take an American sloop of war or small frigate.” The odds must have been laid against events of that character thereafter.

Warrington determined to save the prize if possible, and placed her in command of Lieutenant J. B. Nicholson, with orders to proceed at once to Savannah. Knowing, however, that British vessels thronged the waters along the coast, Warrington determined to convoy his prize to port. He had hardly come within sight of land when two large frigates were discovered to the northward and leeward.

The _Peacock_ spoke the _Epervier_, and, after some conversation, a plan was agreed on. They were abreast of Amelia Island, and the frigates were fast approaching and crowding on all sail.

Lieutenant Nicholson shouted to Captain Warrington to take off the crew from the _Epervier_ and leave him and his sixteen men to handle her. Warrington complied, and endeavored to draw off the on-comers, it being his intention to try to slip into St. Mary’s. Only one frigate fell to the ruse, and came about upon the _Peacock’s_ trail. The _Epervier_, which drew little water, kept well inshore, and under a light breeze made good headway. The wind, however, soon died to almost a calm, and the big vessel outside in the deeper water lowered her boats and manned them all, intending to cut out and retake the prize inshore. Fitful gusts of wind swept the captured vessel along, but during every pause the steady rowing of the British sailors brought the armed boats nearer. Suddenly they stopped all exertion, for Nicholson was shouting orders through his speaking-trumpet as if in command of one hundred men, instead of scarcely enough to haul his sheets and tacks. The ports dropped with a clatter and the boatswain’s whistle rang out shrilly. The Englishmen were astounded; fearing that they had been drawn into a trap, turning tail, they scuttled out of range as quickly as possible and returned to the frigate. A breeze sprang up at this moment, and Nicholson was able to keep the _Epervier_ on her course, and on the 1st of May the brig arrived safely in Savannah. Three days later the _Peacock_ came in also.

Warrington’s delight on seeing that his prize was safe was great, and he reported the _Epervier_ in the following words: “She is one of their finest sloops of war, and is well calculated for our service. She sails extremely fast, and will require but little to send her to sea, as her armament and stores are complete.”

In his letter to the Secretary of the Navy, when at sea, on the night of the action, he speaks of his crew in this manly fashion: “Every officer, seaman, and marine did his duty, which is the highest compliment I can pay them.”

The _Peacock_ did not remain long inactive, but sailed for the Bay of Biscay and cruised along the coast of Portugal and among the islands. Time and again she was chased by English vessels, and was kept dodging from one position to another to avoid the many squadrons. It was not her luck to come across another vessel of war of anything like her size, but she captured handily fourteen sail of merchantmen.

The “commerce-destroyers” of those days were not spoken of in that term, but the trade of Great Britain was crippled severely by the swift-sailing privateers and our handy little sloops of war.

XIV

THE CRUISE OF THE “WASP”

[1814]

In a very amusing cartoon, printed in the latter part of the year 1814 in an American paper, our cousin Johnnie Bull was represented flourishing a cutlass above his head and vainly endeavoring to defend himself from the attack of a nondescript-looking animal that had succeeded in running him through the body with its sting.

As was the custom in drawing cartoons at that time, the legend issued from the lips in a cloud, and Johnnie Bull appeared to be smoking out the words, “Save me, oh, save me from this vicious insect!”

The insect was supposed to be the United States sloop of war _Wasp_, of 18 guns, then on a most remarkable cruise in European waters. Under the command of Captain Johnston Blakeley her career had been smiled upon by good fortune.

In a cruise of under four months she had captured thirteen British merchantmen, and had engaged and caused to surrender two of the finest brigs in the service of Great Britain.

The value of her prizes was reckoned at not less than two hundred thousand pounds sterling.

On the 1st of May, 1814, the little sloop had set sail from Portsmouth, New Hampshire. She was manned by a crew of one hundred and seventy-three men, the majority of them being green hands, and many of them mere boys, for they averaged but twenty-three years in age.

Meeting with some severe weather when only a few days out, it is on record that one-third of her crew were sea-sick for a week. This fact, however, did not prevent them from becoming great fighters afterwards.

On the 28th of June, in latitude 48° 36´, longitude 11° 15´, she fell in with the _Reindeer_, sloop of war in His Majesty’s service, mounting 19 guns--sixteen 24-pound carronades, two long 9-pounders, and a shifting 12-pounder. She had on board a complement of one hundred and eighteen men.

In an action that lasted but nineteen minutes from the first broadside, the _Reindeer_ was destroyed, her ports having been blown into one gaping streak of splintered wood. Not a boat was left, and her foremast fell the day after the action.

As it was found impossible to take her into port, the prisoners were removed from the _Reindeer_ and she was set on fire. That she had been gallantly defended is evident from the reports of the action. William Manners, her commander, a brave, fearless man, was killed, and twenty-three officers and seamen with him. The first lieutenant and the master were severely wounded, and forty seamen were on the list also.

The _Wasp_ lost five killed and twenty-one wounded. She was but slightly hurt, and within a few hours of the action could have commenced another.

Wishing to get rid of his prisoners as soon as possible, Captain Blakeley overhauled a Portuguese brig, placed them on board of her, and sent them to England.

No doubt the _Wasp_ was one of the finest sailing craft of her day. Her lines are spoken of as being remarkably fine; and one of her officers writes, in a private letter, as follows:

“The _Wasp_ is a beautiful ship, and the finest sea boat, I believe, in the world. Our officers and crew are young and ambitious. They fight with more cheerfulness than they do any other duty. Captain Blakeley is a brave and discreet officer, as cool and collected in action as at table.”

In those old days of sailing, given the weather-gage and the breeze that suited her best qualities, a handy vessel could boldly sail into view of a powerful fleet of the enemy, and she could actually present the tableau of an agile wolf following at the heels of a very angry herd of bulls, any one of which could toss her into the air or grind her under foot. So spry a sailer was the _Wasp_ that she could slip away from even a towering seventy-four, given her best weather.

After a protracted and tedious stay in L’Orient, the little sloop made her way to sea on the 27th of August. On the 30th she captured the British brig _Lettice_, and on the next day the British brig _Bon Accord_.

The morning of the 1st of September dawned bright and clear. There was just the breeze that enabled the _Wasp_ to show her finest form. Very early the lookout discovered a fleet of ten sail to the windward, away in advance. Plunging up and down lazily, scarcely moving in the light breeze, was a huge line-of-battle ship, and close to her was a bomb vessel.

The Yankee captain audaciously came down before the wind. In full sight of H. M. S. _Armada_, the seventy-four, and the other armed consort, Blakeley cut out the brig _Mary_. She was laden with brass and iron cannon and military stores from Gibraltar to England. As she was a slow sailer she was set on fire, after the prisoners had been removed.

Endeavor was made to take another of the convoy. The consternation and rage of the commander of the ship of line can well be imagined. There was not breeze enough for his great vessel to make headway by tacking, but the wind, changing a few points, enabled him to creep down towards the American, whereupon Blakeley swung about leisurely, and soon left the ponderous Englishman hull down.

When he had shaken off his pursuer he resumed his course, and at half-past six in the evening sighted four vessels at almost the same moment; two were to starboard and two off the larboard bow, the latter being farthest to windward. He picked out the nearest, a brig, and set all sail to come within gunshot of her.

At seven the chase commenced making signals with flags, and soon after with lanterns and rockets. It was past nine o’clock and quite dark when the _Wasp_ came up within hailing distance.

To quote from a British account of the affair, dated Cork, September 7th: “The Englishman spoke first, and demanded to know who the silent on-comer was. The ‘Yankee,’ in reply,” says the account, “called through his trumpet, ‘Heave to, and I’ll let you know who I am.’ At the same time a gun was fired by the _Avon_, and the most sanguinary action commenced, which continued until eleven o’clock, when the American sheared off and said, ‘This is the _Wasp_.’” Then the British account, for some reason, adds: “She appeared to be in a sinking state and glad to get away.”

In Captain Blakeley’s letter to the Secretary of the Navy he mentions circumstances which may throw some light upon the actual happenings. After an hour’s sharp interchange of broadsides it was imagined that the _Avon_ had struck, and orders were given to cease firing. Blakeley hailed, but received no answer. Suddenly the Britisher opened up with his guns again. It was twelve minutes past ten when he was hailed the second time. The enemy had suffered greatly, and had made no return to his last two broadsides. A cutter was lowered away, and as it was leaving the side of the _Wasp_ to board the prize a second brig was discovered a little distance astern standing down before the freshening breeze. The crew were again sent to quarters, and everything was made ready for another action. A few minutes later the two other sail which had been off to windward were discovered also coming down towards the _Wasp_. The braces of the latter had been shot away, and it was necessary to keep off the wind until others might be rove. Blakeley did not endeavor to hasten. It was his intention to draw the second and foremost brig away from her companions and engage her as soon as they had reached a good distance from the others. To his surprise, however, the brig, which, from the English account, we make out to be the _Castilian_, hauled her wind as soon as she came within range, fired one broadside, and retraced her course to join her consorts, who were gathered about the _Avon_.

To Blakeley’s disappointment, he had to give up taking the prize, whose name and forces he did not know, as it had been impossible to distinguish the answer to his first hail.

The _Wasp_ was struck by four shot in the hull, each of which shot was thirty-two pounds in weight, being one and three-quarter pounds heavier than any the American carried.

For a long time the fate of the vessel which she had been fighting was not known, but she sank a few hours after the action. The loss on board the _Wasp_ was two killed and one wounded. From the English account, the loss on board the _Avon_ was nine killed and thirty-three wounded. As she was sinking, the _Tartarus_, a sloop of war, came up and took on board forty of her crew.

In the list of the vessels of the American navy in commission during the war of 1812 the name of the _Wasp_ is starred, with one or two others bearing the same mark, and, looking at the bottom of the page, we see this short comment, “Lost at sea.” This was the sad fate of the gallant little craft which caused John Bull so much trouble in her short career. It was never known what became of her. Some authorities on the British side stated that she had sunk from the injuries received in her action with the _Avon_; but of course we have the report of Captain Blakeley sent by a vessel spoken off the Western Isles.

In speaking of the disappearance a contemporary writes: “The most general impression is that she [the _Wasp_] was lost by one of those casualties incident to the great deep which have destroyed so many gallant vessels in a manner no one knows how.”

A strange circumstance, however, gives rise to a supposition. A British frigate put into Lisbon in a shattered condition. She reported having fallen in with a vessel and having engaged her through the better part of the night. She had made out that her antagonist was much smaller than herself, and evidently an American. She had not surrendered, and had disappeared suddenly, “as if the sea had swallowed her.” This may have been the _Wasp_.

The fact remains, however, that no trace of her or any of her crew was ever found after she spoke the vessel at the Western Isles. The first _Wasp_, captured with her prize (the British sloop _Frolic_) by an English ship of the line, was also lost at sea, after being refitted and commissioned in the English service.

Johnston Blakeley was an Irish-American. He was born in Ireland (in the village of Seaford, in the county of Down). When he was but two years old his father, John Blakeley, emigrated to America and took up his residence in Philadelphia, from whence he moved to the South. He had the misfortune to lose all of his children with the exception of Johnston, whom he sent to New York for his education. This was in the year 1790; but the young man, although he studied law with the intention of becoming a member of the bar, gave up all idea of it shortly after his father’s death. He left the University of North Carolina, at which he was a student, and succeeded in getting a midshipman’s warrant when he was nineteen years of age, much older than the average run of reefers.

Blakeley was a favorite with all who knew him, and his loss was mourned by all his countrymen.

XV

THE BATTLE OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN

[September 11th, 1814]

The first Thomas Macdonough was a major in the Continental army, and his three sons also possessed desires for entering the service of their country. The oldest had been a midshipman under Commodore Truxton, but being wounded in the action between the _Constellation_ and _L’Insurgent_, he had to retire from the navy owing to the amputation of his leg. But his younger brother, Thomas Macdonough, Jr., succeeded him, and he has rendered his name and that of Lake Champlain inseparable; but his fearlessness and bravery were shown on many occasions long before he was ordered to the lakes.

In 1806 he was first lieutenant of the _Siren_, a little sloop of war in the Mediterranean service. On one occasion when Captain Smith, the commander of the _Siren_, had gone on shore, young Lieutenant Macdonough saw a boat from a British frigate lying in the harbor row up to an American brig a short distance off, and afterwards put out again with one more man in her than she had originally. This looked suspicious, and Macdonough sent to the brig to ascertain the reason, with the result that he found that an American had been impressed by the English captain’s orders. Macdonough quietly lowered his own boat, and put after the heavy cutter, which he soon overhauled. Although he had but four men with him, he took the man out of the cutter and brought him on board the _Siren_. When the English captain heard, or rather saw, what had occurred--it was right under the bow of his frigate that the affair took place--he waxed wroth, and, calling away his gig, he rowed to the _Siren_ to demand an explanation.

The following account of the incident is quoted from the life of Macdonough in Frost’s _Naval Biography_:

“The Englishman desired to know how Macdonough dared to take a man from one of His Majesty’s boats. The lieutenant, with great politeness, asked him down into the cabin; this he refused, at the same time repeating the same demand, with abundance of threats. The Englishman threw out some threats that he would take the man by force, and said he would haul the frigate alongside the _Siren_ for that purpose. To this Macdonough replied that he supposed his ship could sink the _Siren_, but as long as she could swim he should keep the man. The English captain said to Macdonough:

“‘You are a very young man, and a very indiscreet young man. Suppose I had been in the boat--what would you have done?’

“‘I would have taken the man or lost my life.’

“‘What, sir! would you attempt to stop me, if I were now to attempt to impress men from that brig?’

“‘I would; and to convince yourself I would, you have only to make the attempt.’

“On this the Englishman went on board his ship, and shortly afterwards was seen bearing down in her in the direction of the American vessel. Macdonough ordered his boat manned and armed, got into her himself, and was in readiness for pursuit. The Englishman took a circuit around the American brig, and returned again to the frigate. When Captain Smith came on board he justified the conduct of Macdonough, and declared his intention to protect the American seaman.”

Although Macdonough was very young, and his rank but that of a lieutenant, people who knew him were not surprised to hear that he had been appointed to take command of the little squadron on Lake Champlain. These vessels were built of green pine, and almost without exception constructed in a hurried fashion. They had to be of light draught, and yet, odd to relate, their general model was the same as that of ships that were expected to meet storms and high seas.

Macdonough was just the man for the place; as in the case of Perry, he had a superb self-reliance and was eager to meet the enemy.

Lake Champlain and the country that surrounds it were considered of great importance by the English, and, descending from Canada, large bodies of troops poured into New York State. But the American government had, long before the war was fairly started, recognized the advantage of keeping the water communications on the northern frontier. The English began to build vessels on the upper part of the lake, and the small force of ships belonging to the Americans was increased as fast as possible. It was a race to see which could prepare the better fleet in the shorter space of time.

In the fall of the year 1814 the English had one fairly sized frigate, the _Confiance_, mounting 39 guns; a brig, the _Linnet_; a sloop, _Chubb_, and the sloop _Finch_; besides which they possessed thirteen large galleys, aggregating 18 guns. In all, therefore, the English fleet mounted 95 guns. The Americans had the _Saratoga_, sloop of war, 26 guns; the _Eagle_, 20; the _Ticonderoga_, 17; the _Preble_, 7; and ten galleys carrying 16; their total armament was nine guns less than the British.

By the first week in September, Sir George Prevost had organized his forces, and started at the head of fourteen thousand men to the southward. It was his intention to dislodge General Macomb, who was stationed at Plattsburg, where considerable fortifications had been erected. A great deal of the militia force had been drawn down the State to the city of New York, owing to the fears then entertained that the British intended making an attack upon the city from their fleet. It was Sir George’s plan to destroy forever the power of the Americans upon the lake, and for that reason it was necessary to capture the naval force which had been for some time under the command of Macdonough. The English leader arranged a plan with Captain Downie, who was at the head of the squadron, that simultaneous attacks should be made by water and land. At eight o’clock on the morning of September 11th news was brought to Lieutenant Macdonough that the enemy was approaching. As his own vessels were in a good position to repel an attack, he decided to remain at anchor, and await the onslaught in a line formation. In about an hour the enemy had come within gunshot distance, and formed a line of his own parallel with that of the Americans. There was little or no breeze, and consequently small chance for manoeuvring. The _Confiance_ evidently claimed the honor of exchanging broadsides with the _Saratoga_. The _Linnet_ stopped opposite the _Eagle_, and the galleys rowed in and began to fire at the _Ticonderoga_ and the _Preble_.

Macdonough wrote such a clear and concise account of the action that it is best to quote from it:

“... The whole force on both sides became engaged, the _Saratoga_ suffering much from the heavy fire of the _Confiance_. I could perceive at the same time, however, that our fire was very destructive to her. The _Ticonderoga_, Lieutenant-Commandant Cassin, gallantly sustained her full share of the action. At half-past ten the _Eagle_, not being able to bring her guns to bear, cut her cable, and anchored in a more eligible position, between my ship and the _Ticonderoga_, where she very much annoyed the enemy, but unfortunately leaving me exposed to a galling fire from the enemy’s brig.