by Dean King
For the unexampled time we had kept the sea, my crew had continued remarkably healthy; I had but one case of the scurvy, and had lost only the following men by death, viz:—
John S. Cowan, lieutenant,
Robert Miller, surgeon,
Levi Holmes, [ordinary] seaman,
Edward Sweeny, do.
Samuel Groce, seaman,
James Spafford, gunner’s mate,
Benjamin Geers, qr gunner
John Rodgers, qr gunner
Andrew Mahan, corporal of marines,
Lewis Price, private marine.
I had done all the injury that could be done to the British commerce in the Pacific, and still hoped to signalize my cruise by something more splendid before leaving that sea. I thought it not improbable that Commodore Hillyar might have kept his arrival secret, and believing that he would seek me at Valparaiso, as the most likely place to find me, I determined to cruise about that place, and should I fail of meeting him, hoped to be compensated by the capture of some merchant ships, said to be expected from England.
The Phoebe, agreeably to my expectations, came to seek me at Valparaiso, where I was anchored with the Essex, my armed prize the Essex Junior, under the command of Lieutenant Downes, on the look-out off the harbour. But, contrary to the course I thought he would pursue, Commodore Hillyar brought with him the Cherub sloop of war, mounting twenty-eight guns, eighteen thirty-two pound carronades, eight twenty-fours, and two long nines on the quarter deck and forecastle, and a complement of a hundred and eighty men. The force of the Phoebe is as follows: thirty long eighteen-pounders, sixteen thirty-two pound carronades, one howitzer, and six three-pounders in the tops, in all fifty-three guns, and a complement of three hundred and twenty men; making a force of eighty-one guns and five hundred men—in addition to which, they took on board the crew of an English letter of marque lying in port. Both ships had picked crews, and were sent into the Pacific in company with the Racoon of twenty-two guns, and a store-ship of twenty guns, for the express purpose of seeking the Essex, and were prepared with flags bearing the motto, “God and country; British sailors’ best rights; traitors offend both.” This was intended as a reply to my motto, “Free trade and sailors’ best rights,” under the erroneous impression that my crew were chiefly Englishmen, or to counteract its effect on their own crews.—The force of the Essex was forty-six guns, forty thirty-two pound carronades, and six long twelves, and her crew, which had been much reduced by prizes, amounted only to two hundred and fifty-five men. The Essex Junior, which was intended chiefly as a store-ship, mounted twenty guns, ten eighteen-pound carronades, and ten short sixes, with only sixty men on board. In reply to their motto, I wrote at my mizen—“God, our Country, and Liberty; tyrants offend them.”
On getting their provisions on board, they went off the port for the purpose of blockading me, where they cruised for near six weeks; during which time I endeavoured to provoke a challenge, and frequently, but ineffectually, to bring the Phoebe alone to action, first with both my ships, and afterwards with my single ship, with both crews on board. I was several times under way, and ascertained that I had greatly the advantage in point of sailing, and once succeeded in closing within gun shot of the Phoebe, and commenced a fire on her, when she ran down for the Cherub, which was two and a half miles to leeward. This excited some surprise and expressions of indignation, as previous to my getting under way, she hove too off the port, hoisted her motto flag, and fired a gun to windward. Commodore Hillyar seemed determined to avoid a contest with me on nearly equal terms, and from his extreme prudence in keeping both his ships ever after constantly within hail of each other, there were no hopes of any advantages to my country from a longer stay in port. I therefore determined to put to sea the first opportunity which should offer; and I was the more strongly induced to do so, as I had gained certain intelligence that the Tagus, rated thirty-eight, and two other frigates, had sailed for that sea in pursuit of me. I had also reason to expect the arrival of the Racoon from the NW coast of America, where she had been sent for the purpose of destroying our fur establishment on the Columbia.
A rendezvous was appointed for the Essex Junior, and every arrangement made for sailing, and I intended to let them chase me off, to give the Essex Junior an opportunity of escaping. On the 28th of March, the day after this determination was formed, the wind came on to blow fresh from the southward, when I parted my larboard cable and dragged my starboard anchor directly out to sea. Not a moment was to be lost in getting sail on the ship. The enemy were close in with the point forming the west side of the bay; but on opening them I saw a prospect of passing to windward, when I took in my top-gallant sails, which were set over single reefed top-sails, and braced up for this purpose. But on rounding the point a heavy squall struck the ship and carried away her main-top-mast, precipitating the men who were aloft into the sea, who were drowned. Both ships now gave chase to me, and I endeavoured in my disabled state to regain the port; but finding I could not recover the common anchorage, I ran close into a small bay, about three quarters of a mile to leeward of the battery, on the east side of the harbour, and let go my anchor within pistol shot of the shore, where I intended to repair my damages as soon as possible. The enemy continued to approach, showing an evident intention of attacking us, regardless of the neutrality of the place where I was anchored. The caution observed in their approach to the attack of the crippled Essex was truly ridiculous, as was their display of their motto flags, and the number of jacks at their mast heads. I, with as much expedition as circumstances would admit, got my ship ready for action, and endeavoured to get a spring on my cable, but had not succeeded when the enemy, at fifty-four minutes after three P.M. made his attack, the Phoebe placing herself under my stern, and the Cherub on my starboard bow. But the Cherub soon finding her situation a hot one, bore up and ran under my stern also, where both ships kept up a hot raking fire. I had got three long twelve-pounders out at the stern ports, which were worked with so much bravery and skill, that in half an hour we so disabled both as to compel them to haul off to repair damages.
In the course of this firing, I had by the great exertions of Mr. Edward Barnewall the acting sailing master, assisted by Mr. Linscott the boatswain, succeeded in getting springs on our cables three different times—but the fire of the enemy was so excessive, that before we could get our broadside to bear, they were shot away, and thus rendered useless to us. My ship had received many injuries, and several men had been killed and wounded—but my brave officers and men, notwithstanding the unfavourable circumstances under which we were brought to action, and the powerful force opposed to us, were nowise discouraged—all appeared determined to defend their ship to the last extremity, and to die, in preference to a shameful surrender.
Our gaff, with the ensign and motto flag at the mizzen, had been shot away—but FREE TRADE AND SAILORS’ RIGHTS continued to fly at the fore.—Our ensign was replaced by another—and to guard against a similar event, an ensign was made fast in the mizzen rigging, and several jacks were hoisted in different parts of the ship. The enemy soon repaired his damages for a fresh attack; he now placed himself, with both his ships, on my starboard quarter, out of the reach of my carronades, and where my stern guns could not be brought to bear; he there kept up a most galling fire, which it was out of my power to return, when I saw no prospect of injuring him without getting under way and becoming the assailant. My topsail sheets and halliards were all shot away, as well as the jib and fore-top-mast-stay-sail-halliards. The only rope not cut was the flying-jib-halliards; and that being the only sail I could set, I caused it to be hoisted, my cable to be cut, and ran down on both ships, with an intention of laying the Phoebe on board.
The firing on both sides was now tremendous; I had let fall my fore-top-sail and fore-sail, but the want of tacks and sheets had rendered them almost useless to us. Yet we were enabled for a short time to close with the enemy; and although our decks were now strewed with dead, and our cock-pit fille
d with wounded, although our ship had been several times on fire and was rendered a perfect wreck, we were still encouraged to hope to save her, from the circumstance of the Cherub being compelled to haul off. She did not return to close action again, although she apparently had it in her power to do so, but kept up a distant firing with her long guns.
The Phoebe, from our disabled state, was enabled, however, by edging off, to choose the distance which best suited her long guns, and kept up a tremendous fire on us, which mowed down my brave companions by the dozen. Many of my guns had been rendered useless by the enemy’s shot, and many of them had their whole crews destroyed. We manned them again from those which were disabled, and one gun in particular was three times manned—fifteen men were slain at it in the action. But, strange as it may appear, the captain of it escaped with only a slight wound.
Finding that the enemy had it in his power to choose his distance, I now gave up all hopes of closing with him, and as the wind, for the moment, seemed to favour the design, I determined to endeavour to run her on shore, land my men and destroy her. Every thing seemed to favour my wishes. We had approached the shore within musket shot, and I had no doubt of succeeding, when, in an instant, the wind shifted from the land (as is very common in this port in the latter part of the day) and payed our head down on the Phoebe, where we were again exposed to a dreadful raking fire. My ship was now totally unmanageable; yet, as her head was toward the enemy, and he to leeward of me, I still hoped to be able to board him. At this moment lieutenant commandant Downes came on board to receive my orders, under the impression that I should soon be a prisoner. He could be of no use to me in the then wretched state of the Essex; and finding (from the enemy’s putting his helm up) that my last attempt at boarding would not succeed, I directed him, after he had been about ten minutes on board, to return to his own ship, to be prepared for defending and destroying her in case of an attack. He took with him several of my wounded, leaving three of his boats crew on board to make room for them.
The slaughter on board my ship had now become horrible, the enemy continuing to rake us, and we unable to bring a gun to bear. I therefore directed a hawser to be bent to the sheet anchor, and the anchor to be cut from the bows to bring her head round: this succeeded. We again got our broadside to bear, and as the enemy was much crippled and unable to hold his own, I have no doubt he would soon have drifted out of gun shot before he discovered we had anchored, had not the hawser unfortunately parted. My ship had taken fire several times during the action, but alarmingly so forward and aft; at this moment, the flames were bursting up each hatchway, and no hopes were entertained of saving her; our distance from the shore did not exceed three-quarters of a mile, and I hoped many of my brave crew would be able to save themselves, should the ship blow up, as I was informed the fire was near the magazine, and the explosion of a large quantity of powder below served to increase the horrors of our situation—our boats were destroyed by the enemy’s shot; I, therefore, directed those who could swim to jump overboard and endeavour to gain the shore. Some reached it—some were taken by the enemy, and some perished in the attempt; but most preferred sharing with me the fate of the ship. We, who remained, now turned our attention wholly to extinguishing the flames; and when we had succeeded, went again to our guns, where the firing was kept up for some minutes, but the crew had by this time become so weakened that they all declared to me the impossibility of making further resistance and entreated me to surrender my ship to save the wounded, as all further attempt at opposition must prove ineffectual, almost every gun being disabled by the destruction of their crews.
I now sent for the officers of divisions to consult them; but what was my surprise to find only acting Lieutenant Stephen Decatur M’Knight remaining, who confirmed the report respecting the condition of the guns on the gun-deck—those on the spar deck were not in a better state. Lieutenant Wilmer, after fighting most gallantly throughout the action, had been knocked overboard by a splinter while getting the sheet anchor from the bows, and was drowned. Acting Lieutenant John G. Cowell had lost a leg; Mr. Edward Barnewall, acting sailing master, had been carried below after receiving two wounds, one in the breast and one in the face; and acting Lieutenant William H. Odenheimer had been knocked overboard from the quarter an instant before, and did not regain the ship until after the surrender. I was informed that the cock-pit, the steerage, the ward-room and the birth-deck, could contain no more wounded; that the wounded were killed while the surgeons were dressing them, and that, unless something was speedily done to prevent it, the ship would soon sink from the number of shot holes in her bottom. And, on sending for the carpenter, he informed me that all his crew had been killed or wounded, and that he had been once over the side to stop the leaks, when his slings had been shot away, and it was with difficulty he was saved from drowning.
The enemy, from the smoothness of the water, and the impossibility of our reaching him with our carronades, and the little apprehension that was excited by our fire, which had now become much slackened, was enabled to take aim at us as at a target; his shot never missed our hull, and my ship was cut up in a manner which was, perhaps, never before witnessed—in fine, I saw no hopes of saving her, and at twenty minutes after six P.M. gave the painful order to strike the colours. Seventy-five men, including officers were all that remained of my whole crew, after the action, capable of doing duty, and many of them severely wounded, some of whom have since died. The enemy still continued his fire, and my brave, though unfortunate companions, were still falling about me. I directed an opposite gun to be fired to show them we intended no further resistance; but they did not desist; four men were killed at my side, and others in different parts of the ship. I now believed he intended to show us no quarter, and that it would be as well to die with my flag flying as struck, and was on the point of again hoisting it, when about ten minutes after hauling the colours down he ceased firing!
I cannot speak in sufficiently high terms of the conduct of those engaged for such an unparalleled length of time (under such circumstances) with me in the arduous and unequal contest—Let it suffice to say that more bravery, skill, patriotism, and zeal were never displayed on any occasion. Every one seemed determined to die in defence of their much loved country’s cause, and nothing but views to humanity could ever have reconciled them to the surrender of the ship; they remembered their wounded and helpless shipmates below. To acting Lieutenants M’ Knight and Odenheimer I feel much indebted for their great exertions and bravery throughout the action, in fighting and encouraging the men at their divisions, for the dexterous management of the long guns, and for their promptness in re-manning their guns as their crews were slaughtered. The conduct of that brave and heroic officer, acting Lieutenant John G. Cowell, who lost his leg in the latter part of the action, excited the admiration of every man in the ship, and after being wounded, would not consent to be taken below, until loss of blood rendered him insensible. Mr. Edward Barnewall acting sailing-master, whose activity and courage were equally conspicuous, returned on deck after his first wound, and remained after receiving his second until fainting with loss of blood.—Mr. Samuel B. Johnson, who had joined me the day before, and acted as marine officer, conducted himself with great bravery and exerted himself in assisting at the long guns; the musketry after the first half hour being useless, from our great distance.
Mr. M. W. Bootlick, whom I had appointed acting purser of the Essex Junior, and who was on board my ship, did the duties of aid, in a manner which reflects on him the highest honour, and Midshipmen Isaacs, Farragut, and Ogden, as well as acting Midshipmen James Terry, James R. Lyman, and Samuel Duzenbury, and Master’s Mate William Pierce, exerted themselves in the performance of their respective duties, and gave an earnest of their value to the service; the three first are too young to recommend for promotion.—The latter I beg leave to recommend for confirmation, as well as the acting lieutenants, and Messrs. Barnewall, Johnson, and Bostwick.
We have been unfortunate, bu
t not disgraced—the defence of the Essex has not been less honourable to her officers and crew than the capture of an equal force; and I now consider my situation less unpleasant than that of Commodore Hillyar, who, in violation of every principle of honour and generosity, and regardless of the rights of nations, attacked the Essex in her crippled state, within pistol shot of a neutral shore—when, for six weeks, I had daily offered him fair and honourable combat, on terms greatly to his advantage. The blood of the slain must be on his head, and he has yet to reconcile his conduct to heaven, to his conscience, and to the world.—The annexed extract of a letter from Commodore Hillyar, which was written previously to his returning me my sword, will show his opinion of our conduct.
My loss has been dreadfully severe, fifty-eight killed, or have since died of their wounds, and among them Lieutenant Cowell; thirty-nine were severely wounded, twenty-seven slightly, and thirty-one are missing—making in all one hundred and fifty-four, killed, wounded, and missing, a list of whose names is annexed.
The professional knowledge of Dr. Richard Hoffman, acting surgeon, and Dr. Alexander Montgomery, acting surgeon’s mate, added to the assiduity and the benevolent attentions and assistance of Mr. D. P. Adams, the chaplain, saved the lives of many of the wounded—those gentlemen have been indefatigable in their attentions to them; the two first I beg leave to recommend for confirmation, and the latter to the notice of the department.
I must, in justification of myself observe that with our six twelve-pounders only we fought this action, our carronades being almost useless.
The loss in killed and wounded has been great with the enemy; among the former is the first lieutenant of the Phoebe, and of the latter, Captain Tucker of the Cherub, whose wounds are severe. Both the Essex and Phoebe were in a sinking state, and it was with difficulty they could be kept afloat until they anchored in Valparaiso next morning. The shattered state of the Essex will, I believe, prevent her ever reaching England, and I also think it will be out of their power to repair the damages of the Phoebe so as to enable her to double Cape Horn. All the masts and yards of the Phoebe and Cherub are badly crippled, and their hulls much cut up; the former had eighteen twelve-pound shot through her below her water line, some three feet under water. Nothing but the smoothness of the water saved both the Phoebe and Essex.