In Pursuit of the Essex

by Hughes, Ben;

  Over 1,000 miles to the north Captain Porter’s voyage had been more eventful. Standing in for the continent until Downes’ flotilla had disappeared, on 9 July the Essex, Georgiana and Greenwich, made for the Galapagos Islands. Porter was keen to follow-up intelligence he had received at Tumbez: three armed British whalers, the Seringapatam, Charlton and New Zealander, had set sail for the archipelago a fortnight before. ‘On the 12th [July], I made Charles’ Island’, Porter recalled, ‘and hove to for the night.’ The next morning, a boat was sent into Post Office Bay to leave a note for Downes should the lieutenant pass that way. The papers Porter had previously found in the post-box had been removed along with some water kegs and firewood that the Americans had left on their last visit. Freshly-butchered tortoise shells and recently-used fire pits convinced Porter his quarry could not be far away.3

  That afternoon the flotilla sailed for Banks’ Bay. With a volcano on Charles’ Island erupting behind them, they arrived off the southern head of Albemarle at midnight and hove to until the morning, the rocks of the island’s southern flank illuminated by the pyrotechnic display eighty miles to the east. On 14 July, Porter sailed northward. As the Essex rounded the headland, it became apparent that the volcanoes on Narborough and Albemarle had also been active since their last visit. ‘[The former] appeared to have undergone great changes’, Porter recalled. ‘There were no less than four craters smoking … and [another] … on the south part of Albemarle’, prompting the Bostonian to speculate that there must have been ‘a submarine connection between them’. At 11 a.m. three ‘fine, large ships’ were sighted standing on a wind up Banks’ Bay. Porter gave chase to the stranger in the centre. The others split up. One headed to the west and the other made east towards Albemarle, while the chase flew northwards. With the Essex leaving her prizes in her wake, the stranger who had stood in for Albemarle tacked to windward, threatening to cut off the Greenwich and Georgiana. Looking back, Porter nodded in approval as Lieutenant Gamble, in command of the Greenwich, hove to for the Georgiana to come up. Once the lieutenant had taken on board extra crew, he tacked and closed towards the aggressive stranger.

  Early that afternoon Porter caught up with the chase. She proved to be the British whaling ship Charlton, of 274 tons and ten guns. Once she had struck her colours, Porter sent a boat across to take possession and brought her captain, Sinclair Halcrow, on board for interrogation. ‘[He] informed me, that the ship now to windward was the Seringapatam … commanded by William Stavers and that the other [then fleeing to the west] was the New Zealander.’ Armed with eight guns, the latter was owned by Benjamin Rotch. The Seringapatam was more of a concern. Gamble had ten guns to Stavers’ fourteen and his ship was marginally smaller than the Englishman’s. Stavers was also more experienced and had a reputation for aggression. Having already taken the US whaleship Edward off Cape Horn in May, Stavers was keen to give the Americans another bloody nose.

  Far to windward, Porter watched as the Greenwich closed to cannon shot. The first three broadsides, fired at long range through the Seringapatam’s sails and rigging, did little damage, but ‘when [Staver’s] tacked’, Surgeon’s Mate Alexander M. Montgomery recalled, ‘Captain P. became more anxious than ever.’ If Gamble tacked at the same time, the Seringapatam would have an opportunity to rake the Greenwich as her bow swung level. If the marine waited the tables would turn. “Now Mr. Gamble”, Montgomery heard Porter whisper, ‘If you will only stand on five minutes and then tack, I will make you a prince.’ Gamble did just that. The Greenwich swung round, her bow passing through the wind and opened fire as she came broadside-on to the Seringapatam’s bow. In a shower of splinters and torn canvas, the balls passed through the whaler’s spars, rigging and sails, crippling her in an instant. Porter was ‘much pleased’. After a futile attempt to flee, Stavers hove to and surrendered. Porter left Gamble to secure the prize and the New Zealander was taken without difficulty an hour later.4

  That evening Porter had the Seringapatam’s thirty-one crew and the American prisoners they had taken off the Edward brought on board the Essex. When Porter demanded to see Staver’s letter of marque, the Englishman panicked. He had left London before the United States had declared war and had not taken the trouble to obtain one. Despite Staver’s insistence that the Seringapatam’s owner, William Mellish, Tory MP for Middlesex and Deputy Governor of the Bank of England, had no doubt since forwarded the document to Lima, Porter had him put in irons under the half-deck and warned him that he would face the hangman’s noose on arrival in America like a common pirate. Porter then attempted to induce Staver’s crew to join the Essex. At least five agreed and in total seventeen men signed up from the three prizes. Amongst them was William Worth, a member of a prominent whaling family from Nantucket who would go on to make several notable discoveries in the Pacific, and a feeble-minded twenty-year-old Scot who had served on the Seringapatam named John Swayne. As the latter left Porter’s cabin clutching his signing-up bonus, Stavers cursed him as a ‘bad fellow’ and promised he would have his revenge.5

  That evening Porter set a course for James’ Island, a regular haunt for British whalers that offered considerable resources. The Bostonian had intended to reorganise his flotilla at anchor off shore, but his plans were thwarted by the contrary currents. Swept northwest, by noon on 19 July, the flotilla was at a latitude of 2° 8’ North, 200 miles north of its destination. Judging the Charlton to be the dullest sailer, Porter determined to rid himself of her by using the whaler as a prisoner cartel. Her captain, Sinclair Halcrow, was reinstated on the condition that he took Porter’s forty-eight prisoners directly to Rio de Janeiro. Halcrow and Captain Dunamon of the New Zealander – amongst those released – swore an oath to this effect, but some of the prisoners proved reluctant, fearing that they would be impressed into the Royal Navy as soon as they arrived. ‘They were very solicitous that I would allow them whale-boats’, Porter explained, ‘and let them take their chances … declaring that any fate would be preferable to … servitude in his majesty’s navy.’ Despite his sympathy towards their plight, Porter refused, ‘lest it … be supposed I had turned them adrift in the middle of the Pacific’. That afternoon, once her stores had been removed onto the Georgiana, the Charlton set sail and was soon out of sight.6

  In the third week of July the Seringapatam was fitted out as a man-of-war. The Essex’s gunner and carpenter and their crews dismantled the whaler’s tryworks, raised her bulwarks and mounted eight more cannon on her spar and gun decks. Master’s Mate James Terry was put in charge, while Purser Shaw was given command of the New Zealander. Both were ordered not to separate from the fleet. Meanwhile, Porter’s new recruits were assigned roles on the Essex. John Swayne, the ex-Seringapatam who had provoked Stavers’ wrath, was appointed to the main top. When being escorted to the heads to relieve himself, Stavers caught sight of the Scot grinding an edge on his cutlass at the armourer’s whetstone. ‘I hope you don’t intend to use that against your own countrymen’, he remarked. ‘The Scotch and the English ha[ve] not yet settled it’, Swayne replied,’and as I am a Scotchman I have as good a right to fight for the Americans as for the English.’ Stavers was furious.7

  Without the dull-sailing Charlton, the flotilla began to make progress and at dawn on 22 July Porter found himself midway between Culpepper and Wenman’s islands. Two days later, with the current once more pushing his fleet to the westward, Porter decided to send the Georgiana to the United States. Her cargo of whale oil would fetch up to $100,000 on the east coast and as she would arrive during the unpredictable weather of winter she would have a reasonable chance of breaking the British blockade. Porter was also worried about the unsettling presence of William Stavers. The former captain of the Seringapatam was ‘a man of great cunning and considerable observation’ and, following Porter’s threats to see him hang, had little to lose. The longer Stavers remained, the more likely he would find a way of fomenting revolt or forwarding information to the enemy. Dispatching the Georgiana would also allow Por
ter to rid himself of James Wilson. Since his attempted suicide, the lieutenant’s mood had stabilised and he had acted with ‘great activity and bravery’ on board the Greenwich during Gamble’s fight with the Seringapatam. Nevertheless, Porter felt it was only a matter of time before he reoffended. Placing Wilson in charge of the returning ship was a face-saving solution. A final motivation for the Georgiana’s dispatch was that several crewmembers’ year-long service contracts were soon up for renewal. Unlike the tars of the Royal Navy, who were obliged to serve as long as Britain remained at war, US sailors were free to leave once their contracts had expired. ‘With this [in mind]’, Porter ‘permitted … those’ concerned to depart, but ‘had the great satisfaction to observe but little desire on the[ir] part.’ With her crew made up, the Georgiana departed on the 25th, ‘giving … a salute and three cheers at her departure’.8

  The following morning, Porter redoubled his efforts to reach James’ Island. On 27 July the northern headland of Narborough was sighted and the next morning, while the flotilla lay becalmed off Redondo Rock, a sail was spotted to the east. Porter shuffled out along the footrope beneath the topgallant yard to get a better view. Believing her to be a British whaler, the Bostonian gave chase, but with the westerly current against him, the stranger soon dropped over the horizon. The next morning she was sighted ‘to the northeast … standing on a wind … across [the Americans’] bows’. At 9 a.m., seven miles distant, the stranger hoisted American colours and laid on all sail in flight, heading for Abington Island, fifty miles northeast. Porter set his studding sails and used his drags to bring the Essex to within four miles at which point the stranger got his boats out to tow his ship. Porter ordered Lieutenant McKnight and Mr. Bostwick, the ship’s clerk, to take a whaleboat and the gig and row ahead of the whaler. Both carried marksmen to drive the British from their boats. The whaler’s captain refused to be beaten. Running two light cannon out on his forecastle, he kept up a steady fire on the American boats, forcing McKnight and Bostwick to keep their distance. With both ships becalmed and the Essexes too exhausted to continue working their drags, Porter decided to lower all his boats and surround the stranger. After firing a few guns, the whaler struck his colours at dusk, but set all sail when a breeze sprung up from the eastward. Firing at McKnight and Bostwick as she swept past, the stranger disappeared into the night.9

  With light and baffling winds and a strong lee current, it wasn’t until dawn on 4 August that James’ Island’s red-black cinder cliffs were sighted. By noon the fleet was beating up the eighteen-mile-wide channel that separated it from Albemarle and at 2.30 p.m. the Essex came to anchor in six fathoms in the main bay a quarter of a mile from the beach. With the stranger still at large, Porter ordered the New Zealander, Greenwich and Seringapatam to anchor in line across the bay to prevent any ship moving inshore of them, while the Essex’s pinnace and cutters were lowered and rigged and kept on constant patrol.10

  The fleet remained at James’ Island for sixteen days. The Essex took on water and supplies from her prizes, the carpenters repaired the boats and Sailmaker Navarro fixed the rigging, sewed a new main-topsail for the Essex and made ‘a considerable quantity of cordage from old rope’. Others scrubbed the seaweed and barnacles from the frigate’s hull and rowed her powder supply ashore for ‘sunning and sifting’. Nearly a third was too damp to use, perhaps as a result of the rudder coat being ruptured whilst rounding the Horn. The rest was packed in new barrels and the deficiency made up with supplies from the prizes. The Seringapatam was cleared of ‘cumbrous articles’ and painted with a broad yellow streak around her hull to resemble the Essex, while the frigate’s appearance was ‘changed entirely’ and the Greenwich was given ‘the aspect of a sloop of war’. Those not thus employed were allowed ashore in shifts. Four boatloads were landed daily. Some explored for water, others served as shepherds for the fleet’s flock of sheep and goats or laid in a stock of giant tortoises.11

  Formed by volcanic eruption, James’ Island was made up of mountains of cinder and ash. In places a thin soil supported straggling shrubs and the odd tree. Elsewhere were fields of sharp lava which ruined the men’s shoes. Far from being the paradise of ‘delightful groves’ and ‘rivulets of water’ which James Colnet had described on his visit twenty years earlier, Porter found it to be a sterile land. His men were unable to find any water even though the island abounded in animal life. Sea iguanas basked on the rocky shores; their land-dwelling cousins roamed the interior; flamingos and teal ‘of an excellent quality’ inhabited a salt lagoon just beyond the beach; the specie of dove which had proved such easy game on Charles’ Island was readily found; and pelicans, boobies, mocking birds, falcons and petrels and a small snake were seen. Giant tortoises were present in large numbers, especially round a beach to the northeast, where the females laid their eggs. The Americans took twenty to thirty a day, weighing on average 60lbs. Stacked on their shells on the Essex’s quarterdeck under an awning put up to provide shade, they were left for four days to void their stomachs before being stowed in the hold. In total fourteen tons were taken on board. Adding to the Essexes’ ecological crimes, one morning the goatherd found that his charges had absconded along with the sheep. ‘Several persons were sent in different directions, for two or three days, to search for them’, Porter recalled, ‘but without success.’12

  Early on the morning of 10 August two of Porter’s most promising young officers fought a duel, the reason for which is unknown. Lieutenant Gamble of the marines, the tough disciplinarian who had recently distinguished himself in his first sea battle, and Acting Fourth Lieutenant John S. Cowan, a 21-year-old native of Baltimore, met, along with their seconds just beyond the beach as their comrades slept on. Aside from pointing out the fact that the combat took place without his knowledge, the only detail Porter added in his journal was that on the third fire, Cowan was shot dead. ‘A neat and simple structure’, consisting of a post on which a bottle was suspended, was constructed to mark the spot where he fell by Lieutenant McKnight.13

  On 20 August Porter set sail for Banks’ Bay. Arriving two days later, he left his prizes at anchor within the Basin with orders to establish a signalling post onshore and await his return, before setting out on a final, solitary cruise of the archipelago on the 24th. Heading south, the Essex sailed between Narborough and Albemarle. Seal played around her as she passed. Porter spent four days beating round the southern point against a rapid current until the wind hauled to the southward on 29 August and swept the frigate round. Two days later Porter called in at Charles’ Island to leave a letter informing Downes to rendezvous with the fleet at the Basin. The next day, at Stephen’s Bay, the men gathered prickly pear to turn into jam and hunted turtle and seal. The former were stowed as provisions, the latter were skinned for moccasins and hats. Others went inland and found a lagoon alive with teal and plover. None were caught, however, as Porter had banned the use of gunpowder to preserve supplies. On 7 September the Essex reached Hood’s Island. Having filled the hold with fish and taken fifty tortoises, which were ‘very fat and delicious’, Porter left another note for Lieutenant Downes and sailed on.14

  Three thousand miles to the south-southeast, Downes was preparing to set sail from Valparaiso. The situation in Chile had changed since his last visit. A state of open warfare existed with royalist Peru; and the task force which Abascal had dispatched under Brigadier Antonio Pareja had become increasingly active in the south. Although the royalist advance had been halted following the strategically indecisive Battle of San Carlos, fought near Chillan on 15 May 1813 and the patriots had managed to recapture the port of Concepción, the Carrera brothers were starting to lose the support of their more conservative backers. The cracks in the coalition were beginning to show.15

  Valparaiso had been in a state of high alert since April 1813. Instructed to build a navy to counter the depredations of the Peruvian privateers, Governor Lastra had purchased the Colt, the American brig that the Essexes had seen in March and another armed US m
erchantman named the Pearl. The ships, which largely retained their original crews, were renamed the Potrillo and Perla and on 2 May sailed out to attack the Warren, a blockading Peruvian privateer which also had a largely American crew. The encounter ended in disaster. No sooner had the Perla closed to within cannon range than her crew switched sides. Joining forces with their compatriots in the Warren, they captured the Potrillo and sailed to Callao with their prize.16

  By the time of Downes’ arrival, Valparaiso had the mentality of a city under siege. Commerce had ground to a halt, factionalism had turned the inhabitants against one another and rumours of an imminent royalist assault abounded. Although the Americans’ reception was friendly, it proved impossible to sell the prizes and a storm on 14 August saw the Policy and Montezuma collide after the latter had dragged her anchor. Two of her 4-pounders were lost overboard and the crew were forced to cut two cables. Downes’ men spent the next four weeks stripping their prizes and purchasing supplies. Having sent the Policy to the United States as instructed, the lieutenant chose to leave the rest of the prizes in Valparaiso and return to the Galapagos with the Essex Junior to rendezvous with Porter as arranged.

  At some stage during their stay, the Americans learnt of President Madison’s re-election. They also heard of the capture of HMS Macedonian by USS United States and of the victories of the US sloops-of-war Wasp and Hornet over HMS Frolic and Peacock. Downes also received a letter for Porter from William Gilchrist Miller, the American vice trade consul at Buenos Ayres, explaining that HMS Phoebe, Cherub and Raccoon and an unnamed 20-gun storeship had left Rio de Janeiro in July 1813 ‘in pursuit of the Essex’ and the lieutenant gathered further intelligence from the ships anchored in port. The US whalers Lima, Chili, William Penn, Charles and George were all seeking shelter from Peruvian predators as were two English merchantmen, the Emily, which had arrived with a cargo of firearms for the Chilean patriots on 25 June and the Mary-Ann, a ‘richly-laden’ former East-Indiaman bound for England. While Captain Dart of the Emily kept his intentions a secret, Downes overheard the captain of the Mary-Ann explaining he intended to sail the Marquesas before rounding the Horn, a piece of intelligence Porter would find particularly interesting. On 8 September the Essex Junior set sail accompanied by the whalers Policy, Chili, George, Lima and William Penn. Once out of sight of Valparaiso, the whalers stood southwards for Cape Horn, while the Essex Junior stood north-northwest. Downes planned to follow the Peruvian coast up to Callao before turning west for the Galapagos.17