With Porter in the Essex
- -
- 100%
- +
"Is there a brig aboard the Junior?" I asked.
"We've got what answers much the same purpose. He's ironed, an' made fast to a stanchion."
"How long are you to keep him?"
"Until you've given that Britisher the floggin' he deserves, an' ought to have had half an hour ago. Don't fear the Yankee-seller will give us the slip; an' if you're feelin' lonesome on his account, come aboard an' see him now an' then."
"No, thank you, we've had all we want of that fellow, although we'd rather take him on board if there's any chance of his getting overboard in the harbor," I replied with a laugh, feeling much relieved in mind at knowing that we were not to be burdened with him again immediately.
Simply to show that we of the frigate were not the only ones who believed Captain Hillyar had not spoken the truth when he apologized for coming alongside, I want to set down here that which was written by the historian Lossing many years after the occurrence, while I have been trying to put this yarn into something like proper shape for reading: —
He says: "It was afterward generally believed that Hillyar had positive orders to attack the Essex, even in a neutral South American port, and that his intentions were hostile, until the moment when he discovered his imminent peril in the power of the gallant American."
Twenty-four hours later the British ships stood out to sea, having taken on board whatever supplies they needed, and you may be certain they gave us a wide berth while passing. Our crew was at quarters, ready for any kind of a trick they might attempt; but Captain Hillyar had had quite enough of running us down; one experience was sufficient to show him that Yankee sailors in an unfriendly port are not easily caught napping.
Now all hands were certain the Phœbe would speedily show her willingness to engage us, for she was the heavier craft, and we remained with our nerves strung to their highest tension until it was shown plainly that the Britisher did not intend to tackle us except at that moment when it would be possible for her to take us at a disadvantage.
On the day after the two ships left the harbor we stood boldly out, with good reason to expect that a ship carrying so much metal as did the Phœbe would not hesitate to attack us even though the Essex Junior was near at hand; but, if you please, that valiant Captain Hillyar had no idea of fighting us on anywhere near even terms. His ship was superior to ours by at least twenty-five per cent, and yet when we were outside, ready for a fair battle, he refused to fight until the Cherub was in position to share a full half of the scrimmage.
It is not to be supposed that our commander would engage against both the Britishers, if it could be avoided. He was ready enough to show them of what stuff his crew was made; but did not propose to do so when it was impossible we could even so much as hold our own.
The days went by until four weeks had passed, we ready to fight the Phœbe alone, and Captain Hillyar showing the white feather on every occasion when an engagement was possible and the Cherub chanced to be at a distance.
Our men chafed and fumed at the cowardice, as we called it, but all in vain; and one day I asked Master Hackett flatly if he believed Captain Hillyar was afraid to tackle us.
"No, lad, I don't," he replied promptly. "It's showin' yourself a fool to claim that all the Yankees are brave, an' all the Britishers cowards. The commander of the Phœbe has had his orders to capture or sink us. He and his consort together can readily do it, an' considerin' that he's got us bottled up where we've no choice as to comin' out, he counts to hold the advantage. From his standpoint it's all right, an' I'm not certain but that our commander would do much the same thing if the tables were turned."
It wasn't all idleness with us, however, as we waited for a chance to engage one or the other of the enemy singly.
Time and again we got under way as if determined to tackle them both, and, standing out of the harbor, gave the Britishers an opportunity of measuring speed with us. We might have shirked a battle by leaving the Essex Junior to her fate; but Captain Porter did not count on doing one or the other.
Each time we stirred up the Englishmen we came back to our anchorage again, as much as to say that we would leave in company with our consort, or not at all.
One day I overheard little Midshipman David Farragut talking with Lieutenant McKnight about a boat expedition which was to be sent out some dark night for the purpose of capturing the Cherub, and I burned to make one of the party; but when I spoke of it to my cousin he reproved me sharply, saying that it was not seemly for boys to be listening to the conversations of their superiors.
Now, I never looked upon midshipmen as my superiors. Of course they lived aft, and ordered the other boys, and old men for that matter, about in the most ferocious manner; but it seemed as if the lieutenant was stretching matters when he allowed that thirteen-year-old David Farragut's conversation should not be listened to by such as me, even though he was the captain's adopted son.
However, nothing came of the boat expedition, and perhaps no one save Midshipman Farragut seriously thought of such a rash venture.
It was on the 27th day of February when we believed the time had come for the battle; when Captain Hillyar gave every evidence of being willing to meet us singly.
The Cherub was fully a league to windward when the Phœbe ran in toward the entrance to the harbor, and hoisted a banner on which were the words, "God and Our Country; British Sailors' Best Rights: Traitors Offend Both." Then she fired a gun to windward, giving as plain a signal as sailormen could that she was ready for action.
You may well believe that we did not spend many minutes in getting under way, and on the Essex was flying a banner with this motto, one which we had run up many times before when coaxing the Britishers to stand up like men: —
"Free Trade and Sailors' Rights!"
It seems that the sail-makers had been at work on another banner, for as we came out of the harbor a second was run up to the masthead of the Essex, and on it in bold letters were the words: —
"God, Our Country, and Liberty; Tyrants Offend Them."
Our crew was at quarters, Phil and I among the rest, with the officers in fighting trim on the quarter-deck, and I heard little Midshipman Farragut say to one of the lieutenants: —
"This time we've got them, and we'll show how Yankees fight!"
I took a fancy to the lad from that moment, although I had seen but little of him previous to this last visit at Valparaiso; and even though he was a Spaniard by birth, it did not surprise me to hear him claim to be a Yankee, although he had no right to the name save by grace of his adopted father, our commander.
The crew cheered lustily when the Phœbe stood her ground until we were within range, and every man was worked up to the highest pitch of excitement as the order was given for us to let fly a broadside.
The cheers were changed to groans and yells a moment later, however, for the Britisher, instead of returning our fire, ran down and joined her consort.
After that, even Master Hackett allowed there must be a strain of cowardly blood in the make-up of Captain Hillyar.
Once more I set down what another4 has written, this time concerning the trick the Britisher played us that day: —
"This conduct excited a good deal of feeling among the officers of the Essex, who rightly judged that the challenge should not have been given if it was not the intention of the enemy to engage singly. Taking all these circumstances in connection, there can be little question that Captain Hillyar had been positively instructed not to fight the Essex alone, if he could possibly avoid it. As he bore the character of a good and brave officer, it is not easy to find any other reasonable solution of the course he pursued. His challenge off the port was probably intended as a ruse to get the Essex into his power; for demonstrations of this nature are not subject to the severe laws which regulate more precise defiances to combat."
Well, we went back to our anchorage again, not in the best of spirits, for we believed firmly that we could whip the Phœbe in a fair fight, and every man jack among us, including several of the officers, had harsh words in his mouth regarding the British captain, Hillyar.
Within a very few days after this Captain Porter learned that other English frigates were working their way up to Valparaiso; and when the blockade should be stronger, it was almost positive both our ships would fall prizes to the enemy.
All this we heard from the marines, as a matter of course, and finally they brought that information which aroused us to the highest pitch once more.
It was said by these eavesdroppers that there had been a consultation of officers in Captain Porter's cabin, and it had been decided that we bend all our energies to giving the Essex Junior an opportunity of escape, while we would remain and take the brunt of the fight.
On some day in the near future, when the wind should be strong and favorable, we were to put out as if willing to meet both the Britishers. The Essex could outsail them, as had been proven several times already, and she was to run two or three leagues off the coast, knowing full well that the enemy would follow.
When we were hull down in the distance, the Essex Junior would get under way, and do her prettiest at doubling the Horn without running afoul of a British frigate.
Surely, it seemed as if that plan would work without a hitch, so our old sea-dogs argued, for the Phœbe and Cherub must follow us, since neither of them was willing to meet us singly, and they could not run the chance of waiting for the Junior, because we might be trying to save our own skins, which would not seem improbable in view of the fact that the frigate was the more valuable ship of the two.
By such a course we would not be bringing the matter to an issue as far as the Essex was concerned; but it would open the way for the Junior to make a home port and give tidings of us who were ready to venture all rather than have it believed we dared not stand up to a ship of our size, or even two of them.
Now we thought and talked of nothing save the scheme to outwit the Britisher, and it is safe to say that never a crew watched the sky more intently than did we, for a strong, favoring wind was to be the signal for getting under way, as we knew by this time from the officers as well as the marines.
We were to make a venture which might bring us to grief; but we believed firmly that the Junior would get safely out of the scrape.
CHAPTER XIV
THE BATTLE
We were not kept long watching the weather, nor did we play the ruse exactly in the same manner which had been determined upon, as will be seen shortly.
It seems, as I afterward learned, that when the eavesdropping marines announced to us of the gun-deck that the scheme had been decided upon, our officers were as yet only discussing it.
To be precise, as one should be while setting down facts which go to the making up of history, it was not until the afternoon of March 27 when Captain Porter came to the conclusion that, under the circumstances, there was nothing better to be done than give the Essex Junior an opportunity to slip out of the harbor while we were leading the Britishers a long chase seaward.
In case the Junior got safely off, we would not soon again be troubled with Oliver Benson; for, as Master Hackett declared, there was every reason now why he should remain where he was, and, if all went right with us Americans, he would soon find himself in a prison from which he could not depart at will.
I will set down at this point, lest it be forgotten in that whirl of excitement which always comes over me when I ponder upon the thrilling deeds of bravery I witnessed within a few hours after Captain Porter had decided to give the Junior a chance for her life – I will set it down that from that 27th day of March I ceased to know aught concerning Oliver Benson. He was in irons on the evening before the gallant frigate was overtaken by misfortune, and there his history ends so far as I am concerned. Neither Phil nor I heard of the villain again, although in after years we made many inquiries concerning him.
And now I am come to that portion of my poor yarn where the Essex lost her "luck," and the losing of it cost the life of many a brave man, each of whom stood facing death with a cheer and a smile until the grim messenger gained the victory.
No time in my life stands out in memory so vividly as does the evening of March 27, 1814, and yet nothing of particular interest to a stranger occurred at that time. That portion of the crew not on duty had gathered well forward on the gun-deck, discussing the chances that the Junior would take in trying to weather the Horn when we knew that the Britishers had many ships between that point and a home port.
The majority of our men believed she would pull through all right, for Mr. Downes was a skilful and at the same time careful seaman, who would not run unnecessary risks. Besides this fact, our people still relied on the "luck of the Essex," for they were as yet ignorant of the fact that it had at last deserted the old frigate whose career had been so glorious.
There was much jawing and arguing on that evening, but in a friendly way. Never a man lost his temper, and, to the best of my knowledge, not a harsh word was spoken during that time of tongue wagging. All hands were in the best of spirits, thinking that soon we would show the Britishers a trick worth half a dozen of their clumsy ones, and believing we might yet prove the Essex to be a match for both the ships in the offing. It was the most enjoyable time I ever spent aboard the frigate, for on the eve of that terrible disaster we had forgotten entirely the dangers which threatened.
And now let me describe the entrance of Valparaiso harbor, for the better understanding of that which follows: —
It opens to the northward, being formed by a headland on its western side, and a cove that makes to the southward within it; the main coast sweeping round to the north and east again, affording the necessary protection.
When Phil and I turned in on this 27th day of March it was nearly a dead calm, with no indication landward that a stiff breeze was concealed by the fleecy clouds which had been lighted to a crimson glory by the setting sun.
Next morning on turning out we found the wind blowing half a gale from the southward, and the frigate leaping and plunging to the anchors as if bent on getting under way on her own account.
My first thought was that the moment had come when we might play our trick on the Britishers, and I went directly to Master Hackett to learn if there was any show of leaving port that day.
"I reckon we'll hold to the ground, lad," the old man said as he gazed around after the general fashion of sailormen before replying to a question regarding the weather. "That 'ere Britisher is so careful of himself that he mightn't think it safe to chase us very far at such a time, so it stands to reason we'll stay where we are till things look more promisin'."
Having satisfied myself on this score, I went with Phil for our pannikins of tea and whatever the cooks might be pleased to dish out in the shape of breakfast; but before we had succeeded in our purpose, and while yet standing in line, with a dozen men ahead of us, the ship gave a mighty plunge; we heard a noise like the muffled report of a 24-pounder, and the frigate swung around with a lurch that brought us up all standing against the starboard rail.
For the instant I was at a loss to understand what had happened, and then came the cry: —
"The port cable has carried away!"
The heavy chain had snapped under the enormous strain put upon it as the frigate made a wilder plunge than usual, and in an instant we were being driven stern foremost directly toward the entrance of the harbor, where could be seen, less than a mile in the offing, the two Britishers with everything snugged down to the gale.
In a twinkling there was a scene of apparent confusion on board the frigate, although as a matter of fact the seamen were working with a well-defined purpose, each intent on his portion of the task.
There was nothing to be done but crowd on all sail, and, whether we were ready or no, begin that trick which we believed would result in giving the Junior an opportunity of running the blockade.
Our men worked like beavers, and even Phil and I took a hand in pulling and hauling until the good frigate was well under way, staggering toward that jutting land known as the Point of Angels, a dangerous bluff to double in the best of weather, because of the sudden and violent squalls which are frequent there. As a rule all ships reef down while going around, and here was the Essex under full sail.
We expected the order which came a moment later, and the topmen were already standing by the rail to execute it.
In with the gallant-sails! We were going to haul close by the wind, counting on holding our weatherly position, and surely it seemed as if all would go as was desired; but the "luck" of the Essex had left her!
The Britishers were at such a distance that we might easily, by hugging the land, give them the slip, and then the chase would begin.
There was no time for tongue wagging. Every man stood at his post ready for the next command which might be given, and Phil and I, sheltered by the starboard rail and the forecastle-deck, were breathlessly watching the old ship's gallant fight against both the elements and the enemy.
On the maintop four men stood ready to loose the canvas after we passed the danger point, and it was to me as if we had already doubled the bluff when there was a great crash, a swaying of the ship as if she had received a deadly wound, and we saw the maintopmast with its raffle of cordage trailing in the water alongside, pounding and threshing against the side as if bent on staving in the planks.
The four brave seamen went with the spar; but no effort could be made to save them. It was a case of holding on hard and running for dear life, otherwise the Essex would soon have been piled up on the rocks with all hands battling to keep off death a few seconds longer.
Phil gripped my arm till it was as if an iron band encircled it, and I believe of a verity that I ceased to breathe for a full minute.
To run before the wind with our top hamper dragging astern would have been to throw ourselves into the arms of the enemy, and while one portion of the crew were trying to cut away the wreckage, the remainder did their best to put the frigate about.
Even green lads like Phil and me understood that we could not beat up to our old anchorage, even though the frigate had not been wounded, and we gazed anxiously aft to learn what might be the course whereby we should slip past the Britishers and the yet more dangerous headlands.
That question was speedily answered when the Essex was headed directly across the harbor entrance to its northeastern side, and the anchors were let go within a pistol shot of the shore, just under a bluff on which was the Chilian battery.
I drew a long breath of relief. The ship was no more than three miles from the town; she lay hard by the land, and equally as much, if not more so, within a neutral port as before.
"That was a tight squeeze!" I said, bawling in Phil's ear, because the roar of the wind rendered ordinary conversation difficult; and he replied by saying: —
"At one time I counted it as a certainty that we must run on such a course as would allow the Britishers to rake us!"
At the same instant I noted the fact that while our crew should have been snugging down the canvas, they were moving here and there as if going to quarters, and, pouncing on Master Hackett who chanced to pass near at hand, I asked him for an explanation.
"Look yonder, lad," he cried. "Are you blind that you can't see both the Britishers comin' down upon us with motto flags and jacks set? The brave Captain Hillyar whom our commander spared when we might have sent him to the bottom, is countin' on tacklin' us while we're wrecked aloft, an' in no position to manœuvre."
"But we're still in the port!" I cried, almost beside myself with astonishment and fear.
"He doesn't give a fig for the port, now we're the same as disabled. It's what the coward has been waitin' for, an' he'd take advantage of us if we were lyin' just off the town! A gallant Britisher he, who wouldn't give fair battle, but hangs off an' on till he finds us in a tight place! Show me a Yankee who'd play so contemptible a game, an' I'll help keel-haul him!"
The first boat's crew was called away to get a spring on our cable, and the Phœbe was bearing down upon us with her men at quarters, thus showing, if we had had any doubt before, that it was her intention to open the action when we were well-nigh helpless.
Our commander was not one to show the white feather, however great the danger. At every point where we could reeve a halliard, flags were hoisted, and orders were given to go to quarters, although if the spring was not got on the cable we might never be able to give them a broadside.
None but a bully and a braggart like Captain Hillyar would have attacked an enemy while in such a condition.
The Phœbe rounded to when nearly astern of us, and while our men were working at the spring she opened fire at long range. The Cherub hauled off our starboard bow and blazed away at the same time.
The engagement was on, and I hardly realized that I was taking part in as cruel a sea-fight as was ever waged. Phil and I served the ammunition for Nos. 1 and 2 guns, and so rapidly did our people deliver their fire that we were kept on the jump every minute.
I saw the men throwing sand on the decks, and forgot to be frightened. I even understood how necessary it was, how greatly it might be to my advantage in the work, for a 24-pound shot had come through one of the midship ports, killing three men and wounding as many more, and the red blood with its odor of salt flowing across the planks where no sand had been strewn, caused me to slip and slide as if on greased timbers.
My shirt was covered with blood; my throat smarted with the fumes of burning powder, and my eyes were half blinded by the smoke. Here and there lay the body of a shipmate who would never again answer to the call of his superior; a wounded man had crawled against the forward bulkhead and was trying to stanch the flow of life fluid, and amid it all I had no consciousness of fear. The fever of battle was upon me like a consuming fire, and my only thought, outside of the duties I should perform, was that we might be mowing down as many of their men as they were of ours.
Now and then I saw Phil dimly through the smoke as he passed me going to and from the magazine. His shirt had been torn away, or flung off, and thus, half-clad, begrimed with powder until one might have mistaken him for an African, he cheered whenever we succeeded in firing a broadside, or waved his arms now and then in response to some command from the gunners.
Now I heard a shout from the hatchway that a spring had been got on the cable, and as we sent a broadside toward the Phœbe or the Cherub, as the case might be, I added my voice to the others, exulting in the thought that we had sent death aboard the cowardly Britishers.
Again I heard the cry that our springs had been cut away by a shot, and was sensible of the fact that the gallant old frigate was being swung around by the wind until the after gunners were forced to cease work because they could not bring their pieces to bear.
Three several times did our brave fellows, working under the enemy's heavy fire, succeed in getting the springs on the cable, and as often were the hawsers shot away.
"The Phœbe is punishing us terribly," so I heard Midshipman Farragut say; but through an open port I saw the Cherub running down to leeward to take a position near her consort. Surely, we had given that ship enough, although not succeeding in doing the frigate any great injury.