by Hughes, Ben;
On 12 January 1814 the island of Mocha was sighted. Running northwards parallel to the coast, the next day the ships anchored at Isla Santa Maria, 100 miles to the north. Porter sent the boats to water before proceeding to Concepción where the flotilla arrived on the 18th. Downes performed a reconnaissance, flying British colours while Porter stood off shore. Several British whalers were at anchor, having been detained by the Peruvian royalists who held the port, but as all where under the guns of the shore defences, Porter pressed on to Valparaiso where he ‘hoped … to signalize … [his] cruise by something more splendid [than capturing mere merchantmen]’.3
After a tedious passage, punctuated by Porter’s thirty-fourth birthday, the Essex arrived on 3 February. Downes was ordered to cruise off shore and intercept any British vessels, while Porter stood in for the roads. The Hector, Montezuma and Atlantic, which Downes had left behind on his previous visit, were at anchor along with two British merchantmen: the Good Friends, commanded by Master N. Murphy and the Emily, which the Essex’s First Lieutenant had seen in July. Unwilling to risk his ship while American cruisers and Peruvian privateers lurked off-shore, Captain Dart of the Emily had remained at Valparaiso in the hope that a British man-of-war would arrive and escort him home. Another of the Emily’s complement was Sailing Master George O’Brien. Formerly a lieutenant on HMS Sparrowhawk, O’Brien had been dismissed for ‘youthful indiscretions’. The arrival of the Essex and Essex Junior would afford him a way of making amends.4
Despite the rise of the Anglophile faction, Valparaiso afforded the Essexes a friendly reception. Porter stayed at the house of Mr. Blanco, a Chilean who had been appointed American trade vice-consul by Joel Poinsett while he played soldier with O’Higgins’ and Carrera’s troops in the south and on 4 February Governor Lastra and his wife were entertained on board the Essex. Porter heard that the British squadron assigned to pursue him had disappeared rounding the Horn, but paid the rumour little heed and invited Lastra, the officers of his government, ‘their families and all the other respectable inhabitants’ of Valparaiso to a ball to be held on the frigate on the 7th. In the interim, the Essex was resupplied, repairs were undertaken and the men allowed ashore by watches. The time passed pleasantly and the day of the ball soon arrived. Chilean and American flags were put up, an awning was strung from the rigging, refreshments were readied in the galley and the decks scrubbed clean. Having anchored the Essex Junior in the roads ‘so as to save a full view of the sea’, Downes was rowed aboard as the guests began arriving. The ball was a great success. ‘The dancing continued until midnight’, Porter recalled, ‘after which Lt. Downes repaired to his vessel, got her under weigh and proceeded to sea.’5
The next morning was overcast with moderate breezes. As usual, a third of the Essexes were ashore on leave. At 6 a.m., as the rest of the crew were taking down the decorations, lookouts in the tops cried out an alarm. The moment Porter had long anticipated seemed to have finally arrived. Two unidentified men-of-war were approaching the bay.6
HMS Phoebe and Cherub had taken four weeks to sail from Callao. Hillyar and Tucker had exercised the great guns twice daily until 16 January and once every twenty-four hours thereafter. Aside from the Sabbath, the only day on which the guns had fallen silent was 18 January, when squalls had led to the ports being battened shut. Pistol drill had been initiated two days later. Firing at marks strung up from the spars, those designated boarders had fine-tuned their aim. On the Cherub, Tucker had flogged several men for a variety of petty crimes. On the 14th Jonathan Baker had been given twenty-four lashes for neglect of duty and partaking of stolen goods; Thomas Owens and John Rafferty received twelve apiece for disobedience of orders; Johnathan Pitman got twenty-four for drunkenness; and William Lint was punished with thirty-six for theft.7
On 24 January, as the Indespensible prepared to part company, Hillyar wrote to Secretary Croker. ‘I have given convoy to the only British vessel I have heard of on this coast … on her way to Europe’, he began. ‘Not being quite satisfied of the final departure of the American frigate … I propose to proceed to Valparaiso for information previous to … repassing Cape Horn … Since my last … I have experienced much anxiety respecting our separated companion [HMS Raccoon], having heard from an American gentleman, that as early as December 1812, accounts had reached New York of two hundred Americans having arrived at the Columbia to strengthen the settlement and that ships had also sailed for the northwest coast a few days previous to the commencement of hostilities with Great Britain.’ Although Hillyar believed his mission had been a failure, a small glimmer of hope remained of ‘Providence doing some good at Valparaiso … This is my only present consolation’, he confided in Croker, ‘for my having been obliged to give up my voyage once promising to be of much usefulness for my country, interesting adventure and personal emolument.’8
On 27 January the Indespensible parted company. Later Ordinary Seaman James Hedges, a 34-year-old from Windsor who had been with the Phoebe since before the Battle of Tamatave, was ‘attacked with a swelling in his leg’ and was taken to Surgeon Smith’s sick berth under the forecastle to recover. The next day Gardiner celebrated his twentieth birthday and on 29 January Captain Tucker had yet another of his men flogged. At some stage during the cruise from Callao, the Cherub’s junior lieutenant, the recently-commissioned John Belcher, a favourite of Rear-Admiral Dixon’s who had been foisted on Tucker at Rio de Janiero, committed a crime. Although the details are unrecorded, Tucker considered it serious enough to have Belcher confined in his cabin under guard.9
On 3 February the swelling on Hedges’ leg ‘produced a mortification’. Within hours he had passed away. ‘His loss was much lamented by all’, Gardiner recorded, ‘his upright character and good disposition, having endeared him to everyone on board.’ Hedges’ body was committed to the deep and the next day two Phoebes were flogged for insolence and theft. On the 5th the ships passed Juan Fernandez and changed course for Valparaiso. February 8th began unremarkably enough. At 4 a.m., as the Phoebe’s cook, John Dunn, lit the galley stove, the officer of the watch noted that the breeze was moderate and the weather cloudy. Fifty-five minutes later land was sighted and at 7 a.m. a strange sail, believed to be an American sloop, was spotted off the starboard bow. Dressed in a pea-green jacket, Hillyar ordered the cables ranged and the ship cleared for action as the stranger disappeared smartly round Angels Point. Captain Tucker followed suit. With anticipation rising, the Phoebe and Cherub tacked into Valparaiso Bay.10
Downes’ signal flag had caused a flurry of activity. On the Essex Lieutenant Odenheimer hoisted a cornet; a gun was fired to call those ashore on board; Edward Lawson and the other prisoners were put in irons below decks; the crew cleared for action; and Porter was rowed across to the Essex Junior for a better look. Master George O’Brien of the Emily lowered a boat, mustered a scratch crew and rowed out towards Angels Point to intercept the strangers and several of the Essex’s boats set out from shore. On board the Essex Junior, Porter ordered Downes to stand out to the edge of the bay. Peering through his telescope, he judged the new arrivals to be frigates and returned to the Essex, leaving Downes with orders to run back into the roads ‘and take a position where we could mutually defend each other’. At 7.30 a.m. Porter was back on board. ‘I found the ship completely prepared for action’, he recalled. ‘Every man [was present and] … at his post … [and] we had now only to act on the defensive.’ According to Farragut, however, not everything was as perfect as Porter had made out. Several of the Essexes had been drinking the previous night and were far from compos mentis. A few were unsteady on their feet and at least one, ‘a mere boy’, was fighting drunk.11
At 8 a.m. the Phoebe and Cherub rounded Angels Point. Before them was the quarry they had been seeking these past six months. The Essex, the Essex Junior and three of the prizes Porter had taken were all present. After getting over their surprise, the British officers were delighted and when George O’Brien’s boat pulled alongside and Hillyar learnt th
at a third of Porter’s crew were on shore, he decided to bring about an immediate resolution: if the Americans were short-handed, they could be taken by boarding. International convention prohibited Hillyar from firing on an enemy anchored within cannon shot of a neutral coast, but if he could provoke Porter into opening fire first, he would be perfectly within his rights to retaliate. Hauling into the harbour with a moderate wind, Hillyar made for the Essex, while Captain Tucker set a course to bring the Cherub alongside the Essex Junior.12
Farragut watched the British approach. Taking a wide berth of the rocks at Angels Point, the ships cut across the harbour and closed from the east. ‘The Phoebe made our larboard quarter’, the midshipman recalled, ‘but the Cherub fell to leeward about half a mile [away]’ where the Essex Junior rode at anchor. Putting the frigate’s helm down, Hillyar luffed up within fifteen feet of Porter’s starboard bow. Contrary to O’Brien’s intelligence, the Americans were ready. ‘The powder boys [were] stationed with slow matches … to discharge the guns, [and] the boarders, cutlasses in hand, [were] standing by.’ The tension was unbearable. Looking around, Farragut noticed ‘the intoxicated youth … [He] saw or imagined that he saw, through the [gun] port, someone on the Phoebe grinning at him’, the midshipman recalled and ‘declared with drunken bravado, “I’ll stop you making faces”.’ Grabbing a slow match, he leant forward to fire the nearest gun. With that all hell would have broken loose, but instead he was sent ‘sprawl[ing] … on the deck’ by a well-placed blow from an attentive Lieutenant McKnight.13
Fifteen feet away, it was beginning to dawn on Hillyar that O’Brien’s intelligence had been flawed. The Essex was fully-manned and ready for action. Even though Porter’s ship was four feet shorter than the Phoebe and not quite as broad, she packed a 676lb punch in weight of broadside compared to the Phoebe’s 502lbs. At such short range, the Essex’s carronades, which accounted for over 90 per cent of her firepower, could sweep Hillyar’s quarterdeck and cause carnage below. Rapidly weighing his options, the Englishman decided to bluff. He raised his speaking trumpet to his lips, casually leant across the taffrail and called out across the water in a ‘careless, indifferent manner: “Captain Hillyar’s compliments to Captain Porter and hopes he is well.”’ Porter replied with equal equanimity. ‘“Very well, I thank you, but I hope you will not come too near, for fear some accident might take place which would be disagreeable to you”.’ The American punctuated his threat with a signal to his men. Hoisting the kedge anchors up to the yards, they prepared to grapple with the Phoebe before boarding. ‘“Upon my honour Captain Porter”’, Hillyar responded, his arms raised in a theatrical gesture of supplication. ‘“I do not mean to touch you … I respect the neutrality of the port, & only came alongside for the purpose of enquiring after your health.”’ With that the Englishman signalled his men to back the yards. Her sails taut against the masts, the Phoebe inched away from the confrontation, her jib boom swinging perilously close to the Essex’s yards.14
Months later, Porter admitted that at that moment he had been caught in two minds. ‘Not a gun from the Phoebe could be brought to bear on either the Essex or the Essex Junior’, he explained, ‘while her bow was exposed to the raking fire of the one and her stern to that of the other … I could have destroyed her in fifteen minutes … The temptation was great, but … [,] disarmed by these assurances of Captain Hillyar[, I]’ delivered another warning instead.15
‘You have no business where you are’, Porter called out. ‘If you touch a rope-yarn of this ship, I shall board instantly.’ Hailing Downes, Porter ordered him not to fire without command, then signalled his boarders to take to the rigging. To Samuel Thornton Junior, the MP’s son, it seemed as if no less than 340 ‘Yankee warriors … armed with Pistols and Cutlasses’ filled the Essex’s yards. Many recently-recruited whalers recognised former crewmates across the water and Farragut noted Quarter Gunner Adam Roach had taken up a particularly belligerent position, ‘exposed … on the Cat Head … with every expression of eagerness to … board’. Slowly, the two ships parted while the shouts and whistles of the crew of the Emily and a host of Spaniards gathered on shore carried across the bay. ‘The Phoebe[’s] … yards passed over ours’, Farragut recalled, ‘not touching a rope and [at 10.55 a.m.] she anchored [in 16 fathoms] about half a mile astern’ – well within range of Hillyar’s 18-pounders, yet beyond that of Porter’s carronades. Captain Tucker anchored the Cherub, which also packed a powerful close-range punch, within pistol-shot of the Essex’s larboard bow.16
That afternoon the Phoebe’s boats went ashore to water while Hillyar reformulated his plan of attack. Instead of prompting a rash confrontation, he would blockade the Americans at the mouth of the bay. First, however, he needed to resupply. The Phoebe’s supplies of salt beef in particular were running perilously low. By 4 p.m. ten tons of water and two oxen had been brought on board. One was slaughtered and 129lbs of fresh beef sent across to the Cherub. Meanwhile, Downes had moved the Essex Junior. Unhappy that the British had gained an advantage by their choice of mooring sites, Porter had his consort ‘take a position that would place the Cherub between [the Essex Junior’s] fire and that of the Essex’. Downes followed his orders to the letter. The Essex Junior dropped anchor within a few dozen yards of her adversary, ‘an arrangement’, Porter noted, ‘that gave great umbrage to … Captain Tucker’.17
That evening Hillyar interviewed the crew of the Emily and Richard Jones, a 25-year-old able seaman from Cornwall, joined the Phoebe’s muster. Besides learning of Porter’s ill-advised attempt at Pacific colonialism, Hillyar also discovered that several of the Essexes and Essex Juniors were former British whalers captured during the cruise. At sunset the Phoebe’s boats were hoisted up and that night, the crews of the Cherub and Essex Junior exchanged insults across the water. Samuel Thornton Junior considered it ‘not unentertaining’. His former shipmate on HMS Amazon, the Phoebe’s First Lieutenant, William Ingram, was less impressed.18
At dawn on 9 February the sun broke through the clouds. The Phoebe’s boats, aided by those of the Emily, watered while the morning watch mended the frigate’s sails. At 8 a.m. the Essex hoisted a large white flag at her foretopgallant masthead emblazoned with Porter’s motto, ‘Sailors’ Rights and Free Trade’. ‘To counteract this insidious effort to shake the loyalty of thoughtless British seamen’, Hillyar had the Phoebe’s Saint George’s ensign adorned with the slogan ‘Traitors offend both God and Country. British Sailors’ best Rights’. The Essexes manned their rigging and gave three cheers at the sight. Hillyar had his band strike up ‘God Save the King’ and his sailors gave three cheers in reply. ‘A finer sight never was seen’, Thornton opined, ‘than after the first stanza … when we cheered again, & the Essex answered our cheers, & struck up the Rights of Man.’ This chest-beating went on all day. ‘Boats full of liberty men … passed us’, Hillyar recalled, ‘carrying small flags with inscriptions on them, such as “Sons of Commerce, Free Trade”, etc’. After circling the British ships, the Americans paraded over Valparaiso’s hills.19
At noon, to the thunder of a fifteen-gun salute, Governor Lastra boarded the Phoebe. Hillyar discharged the patriot prisoners put into his care and Lastra responded by assuring him ‘that the [Chilean] government [was] favourable to England’ and promised he would do everything in his power to aid him. Hillyar met the courtesy by offering his services as a mediator between the Patriots and Royalists as per Abascal’s suggestion ‘as soon as he should be freed from the duty of watching the American ships’. According to Samuel Burr Johnston, an American printer and journalist who had arrived with Poinsett to set up the Patriots’ first newspaper, Lastra was painfully deferential to the British captain. ‘So much so’, he wrote, ‘that you could even say that [Hillyar] … began to govern the country from the moment he dropped anchor in Valparaiso’. Porter agreed. ‘When I commanded the most powerful force in the Pacific [in the first half of 1813], all were willing to serve me’, he complained, ‘but when Captain Hillyar appeare
d, with one still stronger, it became the great object [of the Chilean government] to conciliate his friendship, by evincing hostility to me.’20
Lastra’s fawning was a result of the ever-changing situation in Chile. At the start of 1814 the Loyalists had been bolstered by a second task force sent from Peru. Commanded by General Gavino Gainza, it landed at Arauco, where it was reinforced by Mapuche chieftains, before uniting with Antonio Pareja’s troops at Chillán and attacking the Patriot lines. To the north, Bernardo O’Higgins’ star continued to rise and on 1 February Carrera reluctantly gave his support to the new commander. As a result, the moderates in the Chilean Junta, amongst whom Lastra was a key figure, began to dominate. As far as the British and Americans in Valparaiso were concerned, the upshot was a tendency to favour Britain over a more risky association with the still-emerging United States.21
On the afternoon of 9 February Hillyar and Tucker visited Porter at Mr Blanco’s house. The convivial atmosphere belied the fact that their two countries were at war. After each paid the other the customary compliments, Porter asked ‘whether … [Hillyar] intended to respect the neutrality of the port’. The Englishman assured his adversary that he felt ‘duty bound in honour to respect it’. The discussion then turned to the captains’ recent cruises.
Porter recalled that:
We talked freely and good humouredly of the object of [Hillyar’s] coming to [the Pacific] and on my views in coming to Valparaiso. He asked me what I intended to do with my prizes; [and] when I was going to sea … I told him, whenever he sent away the Cherub, I should [set sail and] … added, that the Essex being smaller than the Phoebe, I did not feel that I should be justified to my country for losing my ship, if I gave him a challenge, but if he would challenge me and send away the Cherub, I would have no hesitation in fighting … Captain Hillyar … repl[ied] … that the results of naval actions were very uncertain: … the loss of a mast or spar, often turned the fate of the day. He observed, that notwithstanding the inferiority of my ship … if I could come to close quarters with her carronades, I should no doubt do great execution. On the whole, therefore, [Hillyar said] he should trust to circumstances to bring us together, as he was not disposed to yield the advantage of a superior force … [and] would … blockade me until other ships arrived … As regarded my prizes, I informed him, they were only encumbrances to me and I should take them to sea and destroy them, the first opportunity. He told me I dared not do it while he was in sight. I replied, ‘we shall see’.22