Naval battles of the world

Part 44

Chapter 444,154 wordsPublic domain

Just then Lieutenant Downes, the Commander of the Essex Junior, thinking that the Essex would soon be taken, pulled out in his boat, and came on board to receive Porter’s orders. In the wretched condition of the ship Downes could be of no use, and finding that the enemy had put his helm up and ran off, so that he could not board her, Porter directed Downes to return to his own ship, prepare for her defence, and if necessary, destroy her. Downes, therefore, took several of the wounded, left three of his own crew, and rejoined the Essex Junior.

The slaughter on board the Essex was now horrible; and the enemy continued to rake her, while she could not bring a gun to bear.

Porter then bent a hawser to his sheet-anchor, and cut the anchor away, thus bringing her head round.

Her broadside was then again brought to bear, and as the Phœbe was much crippled, and unable to hold her own, it is probable he would have drifted out of gunshot before he discovered that the Essex had anchored again, had not the hawser unfortunately parted. The case of the Essex now seemed hopeless. Several fires had been extinguished during the engagement; but now fire made headway both forward and aft; and flames, supposed to come from near the magazine, were shooting up the hatchways. At this juncture they were about three-quarters of a mile from the shore, and there was a bare chance for those of the crew who could swim well to reach the land. The boats were all destroyed by the enemy’s shot, and the fire was now burning fiercely, close to the after magazine.

Orders were given for those who could swim to jump overboard and make for the shore. Many did so, some with clothes already on fire. Some reached the beach, some were captured by the enemy’s boats, and some perished. Most of the surviving officers and crew preferred to share, with the Captain, the fate of the ship. These were now wholly employed in endeavors to extinguish the flames; and in this they finally succeeded.

They then once more manned the guns, and renewed the engagement; but the crew were now so weakened that all saw the impossibility of further resistance, and entreated Captain Porter to surrender, as the ship was entirely disabled, and such a step was necessary, to save the wounded. Porter sent for the division officers, to consult them; but found only Lieutenant McKnight remaining. He confirmed the reports of the bad condition of the ship, below, and the disabled state of the guns, and their crews. Lieutenant Wilmer had been knocked overboard by a splinter, while getting the sheet-anchor overboard, and had been drowned, after fighting gallantly through the whole action. Acting Lieutenant Cowell had lost a leg. The Sailing Master, Mr. Barnewell, was badly wounded. Acting Lieutenant Odenheimer had been knocked overboard, but managed to sustain himself upon some floating wreck, not succeeding, however, in regaining the ship until after her surrender. The cockpit, steerage, wardroom, and berth-deck were full of wounded; some of whom were killed while the Surgeons were operating upon them. More than this, it was evident that unless something was done the ship must soon sink, with all on board, from the numerous shot-holes below the water line.

The Carpenter reported that all his men were either killed or wounded; and he himself had narrowly escaped drowning, as the slings in which he was suspended, while overboard, stopping shot-holes, had been shot away. It was impossible to reach the enemy with the carronades; while they, from the smoothness of the water, and immunity from shot, were enabled to use their long guns upon the Essex, as upon a target.

It is said that, at this time, Lieutenant Ingram, of the Phœbe, wanted Captain Hillyar to bear down and board the Essex--saying it was deliberate murder to lie off and fire in this way. This gallant English officer was killed, among the last, that day.

The American ship continued to be hulled at every shot, and was cut up in a way seldom witnessed. In a word, there was no hope of saving her, and at half-past six in the evening Porter was forced to strike his colors.

Only seventy-five officers and men remained fit for duty; and many of these were wounded, and some afterwards died.

In spite of the colors being down, the enemy continued his deliberate fire, and the survivors continued to fall. Porter ordered an opposite gun to be fired, to intimate his surrender, but the fire continued, and several more men fell.

Porter now believed that they intended to show no quarter; and he was upon the point of hoisting his flag again, when, about ten minutes after the colors had been struck, the enemy ceased firing.

It is only fair to suppose that the smoke prevented them from seeing that the flag was down.

Porter, and his officers and crew, had shown unparalleled bravery, skill, zeal, and patriotism; and nothing but the absolute requirements of humanity caused their surrender--to save the helpless wounded. Had they been disposed of, there is little doubt they would have let the Essex sink under them, and have taken the chance of gaining the shore.

The action had been fought almost entirely with the great guns; musketry being only used during the first half hour. During most of the time the Essex could only use her six long twelves; and it is fair to say that every one did his whole duty. Farragut, then a mere child, was mentioned, among others, for gallantry, but was “too young to recommend for promotion.”

The Essex’ ship’s company were unfortunate, but not disgraced. Out of them fifty-eight were killed, or died subsequently of wounds; thirty-nine were severely wounded; twenty-seven were slightly wounded; and thirty-one were missing--mostly drowned. Lieutenant Cowell, whose leg was shattered, insisted upon waiting his turn, with the other wounded, for amputation, and thereby lost his life.

The enemy’s loss, which was comparatively light, from the circumstances under which the battle was fought, included the First Lieutenant of the Phœbe, killed, and Captain Tucker, of the Cherub, severely wounded. Both the Essex and the Phœbe were in a sinking state, and were with difficulty kept afloat until morning, when they anchored in the port of Valparaiso.

The Essex was afterwards repaired, and sent to England, when she was added to the British navy. The Phœbe had eighteen shot-holes through her, below the water line, and nothing saved both ships but the fact that the water was very smooth.

During the action the American Consul General, Mr. Poinsett, demanded from the Governor of Valparaiso that his batteries should protect the Essex.

This was refused; but he was promised that, if she fought her way in to the usual anchorage, he would send to the British Commander, and request him to desist, but would not use force under any circumstances. This, and other evidences of bias in favor of the British were so strong, that Mr. Poinsett left the country, having no hope that any claim for the restoration of the ship would be entertained.

The change of feeling in the authorities of Valparaiso, Porter attributed to a revolution, which had lately put new people into power; beside the fact that the South American nations always favored the strongest force.

Soon after their capture Captain Hillyar allowed the prisoners to proceed to the United States in the Essex Junior, which ship was disarmed, and furnished with a passport, to prevent recapture.

Porter, in his remarks upon the battle, says that while he could never be reconciled to Hillyar’s course in attacking the Essex in neutral waters, he must do the English Captain the justice to say that, after the capture he did all he could to alleviate the misery of the wounded and prisoners. Their private property was pilfered, to be sure, but it was against Hillyar’s positive orders. Porter also very truly remarks that the Essex would almost certainly have escaped to sea, but for the accident to her mast, and that it was a wonderful thing that the two ships should not have captured or destroyed her in a much shorter time.

The English frigate Tagus arrived a few days after the battle. She, with other English ships, had been sent to look for Porter in the China Seas, Timor and Australia. Porter estimated the cost to the English government of the capture of the Essex as, at least, $6,000,000.

We now pass to the singular termination of the voyage of the Essex Junior, which ship left Valparaiso with the paroled American prisoners. She made a remarkably good passage of 73 days, to Sandy Hook, the prisoners hoping to be in time to be exchanged, fit out a vessel, and intercept the prize on her passage to England. But off Sandy Hook they fell in with the British ship Saturn, the Captain of which at first passed them, but two hours after boarded them again, and revoked the pass. As Captain Hillyar’s pass was thus violated, Captain Porter revoked his parole, and declared himself the Saturn’s prisoner. The Essex Junior was directed to remain all night under the Saturn’s guns. The next morning the ships were some thirty miles off Long Island, within musket-shot of each other, and in a dense fog. Porter determined to escape. A boat was lowered and manned, and Porter entered it, leaving with Lieutenant Downes a message for Captain Nash, of the Saturn, to the effect that he was “satisfied that British officers were destitute of honor, and regardless of the honor of each other. That he was armed and intended to defend himself against boats sent out after him.” He got nearly a gunshot off, in the fog, before it was discovered that he had left, and when he was pursued he eluded the enemy’s boats and landed at Babylon, Long Island. The English asserted breach of parole in his case, but the Government took up the matter, and it was finally satisfactorily arranged.

In connection with the homeward passage of the Essex Junior, we must not omit to mention the sad fate of Lieutenant Stephen Decatur McKnight, the only Lieutenant of the Essex who escaped unhurt from the sanguinary engagement with the Phœbe and Cherub.

Lieutenant McKnight and Midshipman Lyman had remained behind, and went to Rio Janeiro in the Phœbe, to make the affidavits necessary to condemn the Essex as a prize. They were then allowed the option of going to England in the Phœbe, or to be allowed to go to Europe in a merchant vessel, and thence home, on parole. They preferred the latter, and sailed from Rio in a Swedish brig called the Adonis. On the passage they met, at sea, the United States ship Wasp, Captain Blakely, on a cruise, and left the Adonis and joined the Wasp, in mid-ocean. The Wasp was never seen again after the Adonis left her.

It may further be of interest to have Admiral Farragut’s recollections of this battle, as well as his comments thereon, when ripe in years and experience.

Farragut was only thirteen years old at the time of the battle; but, as we have seen, he was commended for his coolness and conduct.

He said that, when the English ships first came in, and while the Essex and Phœbe were close together, and the Captains talking to each other, a young fellow stationed at a gun-deck gun of the Essex, who had just come off from liberty, rather tipsy, fancied he saw a man on board the Phœbe grinning at him.

“My fine fellow,” said he, “I’ll soon stop your making faces!” and was about to fire his gun, when Lieutenant McKnight saw him, and knocked him over. Farragut remarks that, if this gun had been fired, the battle would then have taken place, under such circumstances that the Phœbe would most likely have been taken.

He also mentions (which Captain Porter does not), that one night, while the English ships were outside, the Americans manned all boats, to board and capture them; but finding them prepared, and their men lying at their quarters, they returned.

In his later years the gallant Admiral gave his opinion as follows: “In the first place, I consider our original and greatest error was in attempting to regain the original anchorage, as, being of very fine sailing qualities, the Essex should have borne up and run before the wind. If we had come in contact with the Phœbe, we could have boarded her. If she avoided us--having all her masts, and ability to manœuvre--then we could have taken her fire, and passed on, leaving both vessels behind, until we could have replaced our topmast. By this time they would have separated, or it would have been no chase, as the Cherub was a dull sailer.

“Secondly. When it was apparent to everybody that we had no chance of success, under the circumstances, the ship should have been run on shore, throwing her broadside to the beach, to prevent raking; fought as long as was consistent with humanity, and then set on fire. But, having determined upon anchoring, we should have bent a spring on the ring of the anchor, instead of upon the cable, where it was exposed, and could be shot away as fast as it could be put on. This mode of proceeding would have given us, in my opinion, a better opportunity of injuring our opponents.” Farragut further says, “It has been quite common to blame Captain Hillyar for his conduct in this affair; but when we come to consider the characteristics of the two Commanders, we may be inclined to judge more leniently; although Porter’s complaints in the matter will excite no surprise. Porter was then about thirty-one years of age, and the ‘pink of chivalry,’ and of an ardent and impetuous temperament; while Hillyar was a cool and calculating man, of about fifty; and he himself said, ‘had gained his reputation by several single-ship combats; and only expected to retain it on the present occasion by implicit obedience to his orders, viz: to capture the Essex with the least possible risk to his vessel and crew;’ and as he had a superior force, he had determined not to leave anything to chance, believing any other course would call down on him the disapprobation of his government.”

Among other reminiscences by Farragut, we find that when Lieutenant Ingram visited the Essex, under a flag of truce, he was shown all over her, and made a very good impression by his frank and manly bearing. He said the happiest moment of his life would be to take her to England should she be captured in equal combat. Porter replied that, should such an event occur, he knew no British officer to whom he would more readily yield the honor. Poor Ingram was killed by a splinter, and the American officers who survived attended his funeral, in Valparaiso.

“During the action,” says Admiral Farragut, in his later years, “I was, like ‘Paddy in the Catharpins,’ a man on occasions. I performed the duties of Captain’s aid, quarter-gunner, powder-boy, and, in fact, did everything that was required of me. I shall never forget the horrible impression made upon me at the sight of the first man I had ever seen killed. He was a boatswain’s mate, and was fearfully mutilated. It staggered and sickened me at first, but they soon began to fall around me so fast that it all appeared like a dream, and produced no effect upon my nerves. I can remember well, while I was standing near the Captain, just abaft the main-mast, a shot came through the water-ways and glanced upward, killing four men who were standing by the side of a gun, taking the last one in the head, and scattering his brains over both of us. But this awful sight did not affect me half as much as the death of the first poor fellow. I neither thought of nor noticed anything but the working of the guns.”

During the action Midshipman Farragut was knocked down a ladder by the body of a heavy man, who was killed. Farragut was only bruised.

The Admiral also tells an amusing story of a fight he had, on board the English frigate, after the action, when they were taken on board, prisoners. He saw an English midshipman who had captured a pet pig, called Murphy, belonging to him, and he stoutly claimed it. The English midshipman refused to surrender it, but his older messmates told Farragut that if he licked the English midshipman he should have his pig. A ring was formed, and, encouraged by shouts, of “Go it! my little Yankee! if you can thrash Shorty you shall have your pig!” he went in and licked the Englishman handsomely.

BATTLE OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN. SEPTEMBER 11TH, A. D. 1814.

The battle of Lake Champlain, or Plattsburg, as it is often called, was one of the most important, in its results, of all fought during the war with Great Britain which began in 1812.

At the same time that the naval battle was fought, the Americans, under General Macomb, obtained a decided victory over the British land forces, which had advanced, on the west side of Lake Champlain, as far as Plattsburg.

Although Lake Champlain had been the scene of so many important events in the previous wars on this continent, two years of the “War of 1812” elapsed before anything of importance occurred there. Nor would it have then been the scene of any stirring event, if English military men had been capable of learning anything from previous operations there.

Towards the end of 1814 large reinforcements had arrived in Canada, from England, and an army of twelve or fifteen thousand men was collected in the vicinity of Montreal.

With this force the enemy intended an invasion of the northern counties of New York; undeterred by the fate of General Burgoyne, whose route, practically, they intended to follow.

In spite of the obstinacy and stupidity of the English military mind during these operations, many people have supposed that this expedition was not intended to be pushed very far into a country much more capable of resistance than in Burgoyne’s time, but that the officers were probably directed to penetrate as far as Crown Point and Ticonderoga, perhaps with a view to attempts at further conquests in the spring.

Some thought that they hoped to reach Albany; a measure that would have involved the loss of their whole force, as double the number of men could hardly have accomplished such a feat in Burgoyne’s time, through a sparsely settled country.

It is altogether probable that they intended to occupy a portion of the frontier, in the expectation of turning the occupation to account in the negotiations which were known to be impending; as the English Commissioners soon after advanced a claim which would have the effect of driving the Americans back from their ancient boundaries, with a view to leaving to Great Britain the entire possession of the lakes.

In such an expedition as this, with Canada as a base, the command of Champlain became of great importance, as it flanked the march of the invading army for more than a hundred miles, and offered great facilities for forwarding supplies, as well as for annoyance and defence.

Until the year 1814 neither nation had had a force of any moment on Lake Champlain; but the Americans had built a ship and a schooner, during the previous winter and spring. When it was found that the enemy had serious intentions, both by water and by land, the keel of a brig was laid, and a number of “row-galleys,” or gun-boats, were also constructed.

During this period the English were not idle. In addition to several small vessels they already possessed on these waters, they built a brig, and, as soon as she was in frame, laid the keel of a ship. The latter vessel was to be of the greatest force and size possible for those waters, and great care was taken to make her so. The American brig, which was called the Eagle, was launched about the middle of August, and the English ship, which was called the Confiance, on the 25th of the same month. As the English army was already collecting on the frontier, the utmost exertions were made by both sides, and each ship appeared on the lake as she was got ready.

Captain Thomas McDonough, who commanded the American naval force, was an officer who, though young, had repeatedly distinguished himself since he had entered the service, in the year 1800, being appointed from the State of Delaware.

McDonough got out on the lake a few days before his adversary, and as cruising, in the ordinary sense of the term, was impossible upon such a long and narrow body of water, the American Captain advanced as far as Plattsburg, the point selected for the defence against the invaders, and anchored, on the 3d of September, on the flank of the American troops, which occupied entrenchments at that place.

Previously to this the English had made an attempt to sink a vessel in the mouth of the Otter Creek, to prevent the Americans from getting their vessels out, but they were beaten off. Otter Creek is some distance down the lake, on the Vermont side.

About this time Sir George Prevost, the English Commander-in-chief, advanced against Plattsburg, then held by Brigadier General Macomb. The latter had only fifteen hundred men fit for duty, while Sir Geo. Prevost’s army was estimated at twelve thousand.

Prevost’s army was divided into four brigades, which were commanded by Lieutenant General De Rottenberg, Major Generals Brisbane, Power and Robinson, and Major General Baynes was Adjutant General.

With this formidably officered force Sir George Prevost advanced slowly down the right shore of the lake, waiting for the flotilla to get ready and to appear on his left flank.

From the 7th to the 11th of August the American skirmishers and scouts kept the English advance well upon the alert, while the latter were engaged in bringing up their battering trains, stores and reinforcements. Some fighting took place amongst detached bodies, on shore, but no move was made upon the water.

Cooper will be chiefly followed in the account of the battle which took place upon the lake, although Roosevelt does even more justice to McDonough than Cooper does. Like Cooper, too, Roosevelt ranks McDonough as much higher in the scale of ability, as a naval commander, than Perry, the commander on Lake Erie, while in regard to courage and conduct under fire, their claims are undoubtedly equal.

The English naval Captain, Downie, late in command of the Montreal, on Lake Ontario, had been sent by Sir James Yeo, the British naval Commander-in-chief, to take the command on Lake Champlain. He came, with the express understanding that he was not to come out until he considered his vessels ready.

In one sense, neither the English nor the American vessels were in a very forward state of preparation. The largest English vessel had been in the water but sixteen days when she was brought into action. The second vessel in size of the Americans had been launched but thirty days when she was fought in the battle. In point of fact, the American Eagle was ready for service but eight days before the English Confiance. As all these vessels had little need of the stores supplied to a sea-going ship, and as the action between them was fought at anchor, they were, really, not much more than floating batteries.

But to illustrate the difficulties under which naval operations in those parts were carried on, we may say that when Captain McDonough first arrived, to build and fit out a squadron, he was so short of skilled seamen that he was obliged to turn to and strop blocks, and do other seaman’s work, with his own hands.

Ready-witted Yankee landsmen soon learned to do a great deal, and after a time, seamen, in small numbers, were procured, such as had seen powder burnt.

On the 6th of September Captain McDonough ordered his galleys to the head of Plattsburg Bay, to annoy the British land forces, which they cannonaded for two hours. The wind then came on to blow a gale, which menaced the galleys with shipwreck, and they were ordered to retire. The boat which carried the order was in charge of a midshipman named Duncan, and it is supposed the enemy thought McDonough himself was in the boat, about to join the galleys, for they concentrated a fire upon it, and Mr. Duncan was severely wounded, losing an arm.